The Search for Joyful Read Free Page A

halt. “Can we maybe sit down somewhere and talk? If you don’t have to get home, that is.”
    â€œNo, I don’t have to be home.”
    There was shade not far off, and we sat with our backs against the large oak. Phil took my hand again. “This is better,” he said.
    I let my hand stay in his.
    â€œI never see you with any of the fellows at school.” He threw this out tentatively.
    â€œNo. I’m not going with any of them.”
    â€œThat’s what I was hoping because . . .” He leaned over and kissed me. He did it very deliberately as though he had been nerving himself to it. Then he did it once more and this time I cooperated.
    It felt heady. His touch awakened me to new knowledge of myself. In Phil Dunway’s arms I sensed what it was to be a woman. His fingers lightly followed the outline of my cheek, my throat, and, dropping lower, my breasts.
    I drew back frightened that I had allowed so much, afraid I would allow more. “I have to go.”
    â€œCan I see you again tomorrow?” he asked, getting to his feet. “Right here? Can this be our place?”
    I hesitated. I wanted to, but . . .
    â€œI’ll be here,” he said persuasively, “right after school. Will you?”
    Words choked in my throat, but I nodded.
    I thought of Phil all night, analyzed every intonation, action, and gesture. In English class I went over it all again. In mathematics I got totally lost, thinking not of square roots but of the soft, waving texture of his hair, remembering my fingers in it.
    While I was still debating whether or not to meet him, I found myself there. Phil was leaning against the old oak and at sight of me his face lighted and he came forward. Without a word we put our arms about each other. This time there was no fumbling, his mouth was deliciously open and his hands sure. He continued where he had left off. He slid his hands under my shirt. I rallied from dreamy acquiescence determined to say no.
    He didn’t ask, just opened my shirt and stared. “I never saw a girl before,” he said.
    I got to my feet, pulling my shirt around me. “You shouldn’t have done that, Phil.”
    â€œI’m not sorry, Kathy. I should be. And I apologize. Don’t go away sore.” He caught up to me. “How’d you like to go to the senior prom?”
    That stopped me. I’d never been to a school dance or any other kind. No one had ever asked me. The senior prom. I’d fantasized about it forever, Cinderella at the ball.
    â€œWell?” Phil asked. “What do you say?”
    I forgot I hadn’t answered him. I nodded before I could get the yes out.
    â€œCan I have another look, then?”
    I closed my eyes and stood in front of him, my face burning as he unbuttoned my blouse.
    That night I took down my wolf pawakam. I felt it held the answer to my question. “Guardian,” I whispered, “does he feel what I feel? Does he love me? Really love me?”
    The talisman replied sooner than I expected. Sooner than I wanted. I lived a very short time in my Cinderella dream. After school the girls were whispering to each other, speculating who was taking who to the prom. Some had already been asked, and they preened themselves before the wallflowers.
    I didn’t say anything. Marlene was keeping count at the drinking fountain. She said, “So far, Ev is going with John Boyle, Gwen with Danny Thompson, and Cindy with Phil Dunway . . .”
    She went on, but I didn’t hear. I left her standing there and walked down the hall and out to the ball field where I knew he would be playing lacrosse. It was baseball season, but a bunch of the fellows got up their own lacrosse game so they could charge and block and work out their hostilities.
    â€œPhil!” I called. “Phil.”
    They were taking a break, and Phil was showing off, cradling the ball. He looked up. The other boys did too. They were startled and