September 5, Saturday.

Danny Rigg's party.

Darkness. A candle on the mantle. Jane, her butt pressing into my lap. Turquoise skirt, white blouse. Long hair on my neck and face. Dancing. Breasts up against me. Stomach round, pressing, moving on mine. My lips laying on her hair, forehead, cheek. Talking, laughing, eating stuff. Her hand on the back of my neck caressing. Her hand moving on my back. Breasts, round, soft. Stella sitting in a chair across the room, white eyes looking at me, turns away. Hair tickles my face, in my nose, in my mouth. Wild. Wild about her. Last three dances. Last few couples dancing, not us. Me, laying on my back on the couch. Jane, sitting by my side, stretched across my chest her head on my neck, hand in mine. Perfectly happy. Need nothing else. Nothing. Perfect vacuum. Everything still, quiet, stopped. Her breathing, long, regular. Three couples dancing in the dark room. Danny trying to get close to Cherie Maynard. Jane, warm, moist, slightly heavy. Walking out into the cool night air, passing into and out of the bright glare of the porch light. Talking. Kiss goodnight. Bye bye. Then suddenly the night, quiet, cold, dark, lonely.

I walked home. Shit. Mad at myself. Should have made out more. She wants it, I know. Should have kissed her many times, while we were dancing, while we were sitting. She wants to. I have to. I'm going to. I will I will I will. No choice.