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making fun of me?"

"No, but you're acting so--"

"Weird?" he said. "Right, I'm weird. I forgot."

He started back toward the rear door.

"Duncan, stop it. I didn't say you were weird." "It's all right. It doesn't matter. I just realized I

can't stay for dinner anyway. My mother made a roast.

See you," he said, and before I could say another

word, he was out the door.

Nevertheless, I charged out after him. He

practically ran to his scooter parked in front. "Duncan," I called as he turned it around to

head down and out the driveway. He kept going.

"Thanks for helping me in the studio," I shouted. He just lifted his hand to acknowledge and sped

up.

"Damn you!" I screamed after him. "You took

me to the river. You kissed me. If I thought you were

that weird, why would I let you do that? Why are you

running away now?"

Of course, he couldn't hear me. He was too far

away, but I needed to shout it after him. I stood there

long after he was gone, my head spinning because of

his radical mood swings. After another moment, I

went back into the house and paused at my bedroom

door. What could possibly have frightened him about

this room so much? I wondered and then saw a pair of

my panties on the back of a chair and a bra dangling

beside it. I had forgotten to put them into the laundry

hamper. Aside from the dainty curtains, there was

nothing else that really stamped this room a girl's

room. I couldn't imagine why the sight of a pair of

panties and a bra would put the shudders into a boy as