Mike was sitting over on the sill of one those big windows looking out onto the street. Spring had just arrived, and the huge Oak tree planted in the sidewalk was beginning to wake at the top branches where it would inevitably cover the windows to the pad. Mike hadn’t even noticed the tree through the winter when it was bare, but now the little bits of green were a welcome sight against all the concrete and brick backgrounds he had gotten so accustomed to. He wasn’t feeling very good about himself lately, maybe the change in scenery will help change his mood – he doubted it though. He had to get up, walk across the room, and make that phone call to Lauren to tell her he couldn’t make it tomorrow night; but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was already expected to show at the party she wanted him to attend with her – the third one this week, and there would be more. 'What have I gotten myself into?' he thought to himself. 'Is it really worth it to prostitute myself for a recording deal? The guys should know what I’m sacrificing for them. Sacrificing?! Going to big, fancy parties, dining in all the finest restaurants, and screwing a pretty blond every night is sacrificing? I guess not...so why am I so miserable?'

'And just who the hell am I really sacrificing for, anyway? For the guys, or me? Do they even care? They haven’t said anything...they haven’t even mentioned what a great job I’ve done getting the band started here in New York...I guess they think it’s easy...ha, I’d like to see one of them do it. No one appreciates what I do...startin' all over again like that, and changing our image and music till I finally got it right. I did get it right – didn’t I? Lauren thinks I got it right. What does she care...she’s only interested in my ass, anyway. As long as I keep her happy the band could be playin’ chamber music, and she wouldn’t know the difference. God, this isn’t the way I wanted it to happen.'

Reluctantly he got up, and walked over to the phone. With a slight, unconscious gesture of hesitation from his hand, he reached for the receiver and started to dial the familiar number. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he counted the rings. “Hello, Lauren? It’s Mike. Um...I just called ‘cause...ah...I...ah, I forgot what time I was supposed to be at your place tomorrow. Oh, okay...yeah...see ya then. Bye.” He hung up the phone a bit too abruptly – he hoped she wouldn’t notice how rude he was, but he didn’t want her to prod him with her questions, or give anymore orders for him to follow. He just wanted to be strong this time, and tell her what he thought of their situation – but he didn’t – he couldn’t. The success of the band was always gnawing at the back of his mind; so he kept reminding himself that it was all worth his efforts, and that nagging, guilty feeling that never let him forget it. Just one more, he thought, just one more day, and maybe she’ll finally come through with what she’s been promising. That kept him going.

He sat back down at the window, and tried to take his mind off of his own weakness. It wasn’t like him to act this way. What was he turning into? He would never let a woman treat him like this before, why was he allowing it now? Was it that selfishness again? Greed? He wanted success so badly he could taste it – no, it was pride. He didn’t want to admit to himself that he was a failure, and this was his only way out – his last chance not to be a loser.

'Arrgh...I hate that word: ‘loser’. Why can’t I just forget about all this, and enjoy myself? Things are goin’ great – better than ever. Why do I insist on torturing myself? We have more gigs than we’d ever hoped for back in California. No problems payin’ the rent. Enough money to finally live in some style. Life is good...isn’t it? The guys seem happy...I think. I wonder what they’ve been up to? I’ve been so distracted with Lauren lately that I hardly talk to them anymore. And whenever I am around, they’re always out. Where the hell do they go everyday?”

Over at Mom’s, Peter and Micky were enjoying yet another trip with their friends. That grade-A acid quickly became a favorite pastime, and so they indulged whenever it became available. And since it was available more than not, the dwelling started to find some new blood lurking in its shadows; not the usual crowd of artists and musicians, but maybe a bit less wholesome, a type out for something more than stoned conversation – mostly the drugs. Peter, who always welcomed a new friend, loved to meet all the people, even if they were only there for the acid, instead of “peace and harmony”.

But one of these newly adopted young stood out in the most recent crowd, and took an immediate liking to him – her name was Jane, and Peter was exactly what she was looking for – a young innocent who was willing to open up to new ideas and experiences, and maybe even a new way of life. Jane was the first girl to show some interest in Peter for a long time, and so he fell for her immediately. Actually, no one could be better suited for him – they even looked alike, and she had the same air of innocence, and sweetness which made her appear awkward and shy. She had come to the Village from an upstate commune where she had been living recently with some friends; but wanted to see the city a bit before she went back.

So, everyday they would meet at moms, grab their tainted sugar cubes, and then head out together for an expedition of the city, and beyond. Sometimes they would find themselves just sitting for hours at moms, or at the downstairs café where they could talk. They were so automatically in tune with each other that they could finish one another’s thoughts, and would wind up saying the same things at the same time which always amused them, and convinced them that they had each run into their respective soul mates. Peter never found anyone before who would sit still long enough to listen to him rant about the differences in the light and shadows between sunsets and sunrises – but Jane did, and she’d even contribute her own strange thoughts to his nonsensical theories. She made him feel smart, and he gave her someone to love.

“What were we talking about?" Peter said.

“Um...oh, sunrises. I think that...um…sunrises are better than sunsets.”

“Really? Me too.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Yes, I do,” he said with a seriousness that didn’t quite match the subject.

“Wow,” Jane whispered dreamily.

“Hey, You know what...would you like to come back to the pad with me?”

“Oh...yes. Yes Peter, I would...let’s go,” she said with great enthusiasm; and they each, without question, understood what that meant, it meant they were ready to take their relationship to the next step – sex. Only one minor detail upset their plan.

“Um...Peter? Can I tell you something before we go?” she asked him.

“Sure, Jane. What is it? Actually...I should tell you something too.”

“Oh, well...then you go first.”

“No, you go first.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Well...I’m a virgin.” she said plainly, and honestly.

“Really? I was just about to tell you the same thing.”

“Really? You were?”

“Yeah, I’m still a virgin too. Don’t tell anyone though, okay?”

“No, I won’t tell anyone.”

“I guess we must be the only two people that managed to miss the ‘summer of love’, huh.”

“I used to think I was the only one.”

“Me too.”

With Peter having a new playmate taking up all his time, Micky would try to catch Charlie at every opportunity. She never answered her phone anymore, so he would make trips to her apartment on a regular basis. Normally she wouldn’t be home at all, or she would be just heading out the door to make a gig, so he really didn’t expect to catch her, but he was determined to share as much time with her as he could, and every once in a while he would find her home and willing to take a long walk with him up to Central Park, or a short stroll through the neighborhood. Today was one of those lucky days when he would knock on her door and it would open. He buzzed the downstairs bell, and without a “Hello,” or “Who’s there?” he was let into the building. 'That’s strange, she never does that,' he thought as he climbed the stairs to reach her fourth floor flat. 'How does she know I’m not some lunatic with an axe?' he finished his thought as he rang the bell, and leaned against the wall to wait for some response.

When the door finally opened, he didn’t see his familiar nymphet on the other side; instead he found a half-naked Butch to greet him. “Hey, Micky,” Butch said with his usual glowing, friendly smile. “What are you doin’ here? Come on in.”

Butch began to open the door when a voice from inside shouted, “Is someone here?” A semi-alarmed Charlie grabbed the door away from Butch and peeked around it to find a stunned Micky standing in her hallway. “Micky?” she said to him with a faint smile. Micky stood there and looked at her for a moment, as she covered up with her thin robe and stepped into the hall. “Micky. What are you doing here?” she said.

Micky paused for a moment, not quite believing what she was asking him, since she knew very well that he was there at least once a day. “I always come here,” he answered plainly. “I was...I was hoping you were home.”

“Oh...I’m sorry, Micky.”

“It’s okay...I just thought...maybe...” he glanced over at Butch who was still smiling, and still half naked. He was obviously clueless to the situation, so Charlie pushed him back into the apartment and closed the door behind her – Butch didn’t seem to mind. She didn’t want Micky to be hurt, that was never her intention, but she wasn’t the type to stick with one boyfriend either; and if Micky couldn’t handle that then he would have to be hurt after all – what else could she do? He was leaving her no choice.

“Micky, I’m really sorry, but you have to understand…”

“I understand...um...I have to go,” he said, unsuccessfully trying to be as casual about the situation as she and Butch were.

“No...wait Micky.”

“I can’t...I have to go,” he said as he turned to leave.

“Micky, please don’t do this...let’s talk. Why do you have to be like this?”

Charlie tried to grab his hand, but he didn’t want her to see his face, so he turned away from her and said almost in a whisper “Bye.” He ran down the stairs listening to Charlie call his name one last time, and when he got to the bottom of the first floor it finally hit him what had just happened. All this time he thought Charlie was in love with him, but now it was all too clear that she wasn’t. How could he be so blind, he thought. Upstairs he could still hear Charlie. She was pounding on her door, and shouting to Butch to let her in – apparently she had locked herself out of her own apartment. Micky pictured her wearing nothing but that short, cotton robe she had on, standing there in her hallway trying to get the door open.

How could he ever have thought she would forget about Butch, and stay with him? He really couldn’t blame her. He knew he was no competition for the picture perfect Butch. He opened the glass door to the small vestibule that led to the street with every intention of continuing through to the next door when he suddenly stopped, and broke down into quiet sobs. He turned to the wall and cried on the dozen mailboxes that it housed, until someone entered the door from the sidewalk. He wiped at his eyes and straightened himself up, and left the tiny room for the brisk, fresh air of the street. Where would he go now, he thought, and what will he do without Charlie?

He wandered the streets for a while, but with nowhere else to go he found himself back at the old warehouse that was now his home. When he got to the sixth floor he found a sign on the door which read: “Occupied, Please Come Back Later.” He recognized Peter’s scrawl, and wondered exactly what the note meant when he attempted to gain entry with his key, but the door was chained shut. So, he sat himself down on the stairs nearby and waited for whatever was going on in the pad to end. He had nothing else to do anyway except sit and be depressed. He laid his head down into his folded arms and knees, and waited in the quiet, dark hallway. Occasionally the sound of the elevator would stir to break the silence, and then it opened onto his floor to deposit Mike.

Mike walked up to the pad door to find the note, then he turned to find Micky, and went to join him on the steps. “Hey Mick,” he said as Micky looked up. “Hmm, guess Peter’s gettin' lucky,” Mike said as he sat down with the note. “We should have thought of this sign posting a long time ago.” Micky remained silent leaning against the wall, and not really hearing what Mike had to say. He resumed his previous pose, hiding his face in his arms, while Mike continued the small talk: “So, what are you doin’ here, anyway, Mick? How come your not out with Charlie?”

Micky picked up his head from out of his cave and said, “Butch is back.”

“Oh...I see,” Mike said “Well Mick...there’s lots of other fish in the sea, so don’t let it get ya down. Ya gotta go right back out there, and grab yourself another before you get too depressed – just like ridin’ a bike.”

Micky’s hands automatically covered his face as his tears started once again. Mike didn’t know how to react; being put into this type of position wasn’t really his strong point, but he didn’t want to seem cold, or uncaring, so he thought about what Peter might do in such a situation. Peter wouldn’t make jokes; he would be kind and sensitive. So, Mike moved down a step to sit closer to Micky, and put an arm around his shoulder as he attempted to console him with his wisdom. “Look Mick, it isn’t that bad. I’m sorry about Butch bein’ back, but Charlie was never really the type to stick around anyway. It was probably sure nice while it lasted, but...come on...you weren’t really in love with her – it was more kind of a lust thing, don’t ya think? I mean...the only thing you two ever did together was screw on the couch.”

Micky didn’t find Mike’s comments to be very sympathetic. He looked up at him with disbelief, and anger in his eyes, and without a word he got up, and ran down the stairs as Mike tried to stop him. “Micky, wait...I’m sorry...I didn’t mean it.” Mike shouted toward the bottom of the stairwell.

Meanwhile, inside the lock-up, Peter and Jane were enjoying their privacy. Since it was the first time for them both, they were eager to experience each other to the fullest; and they weren’t nervous about what was about to happen either, because they were so much alike, and could practically read each other’s thoughts – ah yes, true love was in blossom. Peter’s brilliant plan of getting the pad for himself for a few hours made things easier as well, so there was no need to worry about roommates popping in unexpectedly, and that took some of the pressure off. Still, two virgins about to be initiated into the world of free love can be somewhat awkward, if not down right messy, but they tried their best, and were determined to make the experience as pleasant as possible for each. They sat on Peter’s bed finishing the last of mom’s hash, and discussed how they should proceed:

“Well...what should we do first?” Peter asked.

“I’m not really sure, but...maybe we shouldn’t talk about it,” Jane answered.

“Oh...um...Okay,” he said, and they leaned toward each other for a tension melting kiss.

“That’s better,” they said in unison, and they kissed some more.

“Maybe we should take off our coats,” he suggested.

“Okay. Don’t worry Peter, I’ve watched this a few times at the commune.”

“I’m not worried. I’ve watched it too – on the couch.”

“Oh, good,” she admitted with some relief.

As they flung their coats onto the floor, and proceeded to look like they knew what they were doing, they gave each other big smiles and started the kissing all over again. It was much easier, they found, to get passionate without that bulky clothing on, so they each reached for the other’s clothes and began to remove them between their kisses. Not an easy maneuver for such an inexperienced couple, but they managed with as little fumbling as possible. They laid back onto the bed among the cotton sheets and soft pillows, and they began to get that feeling of inhibition that allowed them to explore each other more freely. But they were a little too anxious to get past the petting and onto the good stuff, so with Peter only partially prepared, he attempted to gain his first access into the depths of pleasure.

“Oh...I don’t think it’s supposed to go there.” Jane said.

“Oh! I’m sorry...there, is that better?”

“That’s my knee!”

Just then the phone rang, so Peter got up and hurried into the living room to answer it. “Hello?”

“Peter man, when ya gonna finish up there?” It was an impatient Mike, calling from the corner store.

“Hi Mike. Well...actually, it would be a lot easier if you tried not to call right now.”

“Sorry Pete, but it’s gettin' kinda’ cold out on the stairs ya know.”

“Oh...okay Mike. I’ll try to hurry it up then.”

“Okay shotgun, I’ll be waitin’.”

Back to the bedroom he ran with the intention of continuing where he had left off, but that phone call, and the cold floor on bare feet seemed to make his anatomy respond in another direction. So, once again, they took it from the top. Some more kissing, some more fondling, and they were almost ready to make the final move when suddenly someone tried to get into the pad.

Davy didn’t see the note on the door – there wasn’t one because Mike had taken it down when he read it over an hour ago. So, with the door inexplicably chained shut, Davy tried to break his way in. Luckily, for Peter and Jane the chain was stronger than petite Davy, and it kept him out long enough for Mike to re-appear on the stairs outside, and inquire as to what the hell was going on.

Mike put his mouth up to the opening in the door, “Sorry Pete,” he yelled, and then closed it shut. “What were you doing?” he asked Davy.

“I was tryin’ to get into the pad – someone chained it.”

“Peter chained it.”

“Well, what he’d do that for?”

“Didn’t you read the note?”

“What note? There isn’t any note.”

“Of course there’s a note, it’s right...oh, there’s no note.”

“See, I told ya there’s no note.”

“Oh, here it is.” Mike found the note he had left on the steps where he was sitting earlier.

“Oh...well, a lotta good it does over there.”

Mike gave him an annoyed look for that and they both sat down on the steps for the wait.

“So, what’s he doin’ in there, anyway?” Davy asked.

“Whadaya’ think he’s doin’?”

“Peter?! No.”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t know he did that.”

“Come to think of it, neither did I.”

“So, where’s Micky, then?”

“Ah...Butch is back.”

“Oh...is he?”

“Yeah, Micky’s kinda’ upset. Better stay out of his way.”

“Oh...sure Mike.”

So, it had finally happened, Davy thought to himself. Butch was back with Charlie, and Micky and himself were now all alone once again. 'Micky must be devastated,' Davy couldn't help thinking as he hung his head. 'Mike doesn’t even realize what’s happened. He thinks Charlie was just another bird. He doesn’t know what’s been goin’ on with the four of us – I wish I could tell him…I wish I could ‘ave told Micky. It’s my own fault for burnin’ down Butch’s flat like that. He’s probably living with her now. I wonder how Micky’s taking it? He must be heart-broken...how could he think she was in love with him? But he did...he really believed it – god, she was good. I can’t believe she left him for Butch. Micky really loves her – Butch doesn’t care...besides Butch has me. I’ve never seen anybody try so hard to keep someone before. If Micky would just be a little less in love, and more open to sharin’ her, then he wouldn’t have to put himself through this. I guess he’s just not ready for that yet. To bad we’ll both have to give up the couch. I won’t miss Charlie, but I’ll sure miss the nightly porn show. I guess this means I’ll have to find something else to do now – leave the pad! Well, it was nice while it lasted...now I ‘ave to get a life again. I wonder what Butch’s plans are? He won’t stop seein’ me...I hope. Nah, he’d never stick with just a girl...he needs all he can get...he needs me too. She doesn’t deserve him either. What does everyone see in her, anyway? Oh, I guess it must be all that sex – she certainly is willing. I just hope Butch doesn’t disappear on me.”

On the other side of the wall, Peter and Jane were still attempting to triumph in their sexual objective – unsuccessfully. Despite their caution, all the interruptions were beginning to take their toll on the inexperienced couple. “Peter, maybe we should just stop, and try again another time,” Jane tried to convince him with a little disappointment in her voice.

“Ohhh...I’m sorry Jane. I really wanted to do it, too,” he whined.

“It’s okay, Peter.”

“You sure you aren’t too disappointed?”

“Yeah, we’ll do it some other time, sweetie.”

“Okay, as long as it’s alright with you.”

“It’s alright. Let’s get dressed then, and let your roommates in.”

“Okay,” he agreed.

They gave each other a few last consolation kisses while preparing themselves to greet Mike and Davy. They were frustrated with the outcome of the afternoon, but decided it was all for the best, rather than force the issue at such an inopportune time.

Meanwhile, Micky was wandering the Village streets when he decided the only place left for him to go now was to moms. He dried his tears on the sleeves of his coat, and quickly made his way to the little hideout. There was nowhere else for him to go anyway, and he could really use a good high right now.

Another buzzer to ring, a few more flights of stairs to climb, and he was greeted with the familiar blended scent of blonde hash, and red tie-stick. Mom went over to him and immediately saw the distress in his face. She didn’t need to know what was wrong – it didn’t matter. One of her own was unhappy and it was her job to make it better – just like any good mom would do. So, she offered him what she had available to cheer him up in her own little way. He sat himself down in a corner of the room and tried to console himself with the hash she gave him, but without Peter around it just wasn’t the same, and the higher he got, the more depressed and alone he began to feel. “Where’s all the acid?” he asked her.

“Oh...I’m sorry, It’s gone. You know, with all the extra people in here lately, nothing sticks around too long anymore,” she explained. Micky seemed disappointed; she of all people understood that look of sadness on his face, and she was determined to change it. So, she led him into the other room, sat him down on the floor in front of a small table, and showed him his other option from her very own private stash. He watched her as she began the ritual of turning a crystalline, white powder into a liquid substance that could be injected.

“This is what I do when I want to feel better,” she said.

“I’ve never done this before,” he admitted.

“You don’t have to.”

“I know.”

“If you don’t want it, I’ll save it for myself.”

“No...no, I want it.”

“I just thought you looked like you could use it. This is the only thing I’ve ever found that really makes the world go away,” she said as she held up her now prepared needle. “Do you want me to do it for you?” she added.

He looked at what she held in her hand, and after a moment of slight hesitation, and a small sigh he said, “Yeah,” and offered her his arm. She gave him her usual warm smile and took his arm to push up his sleeve, and began the search for the perfect vein to invade with the narcotic. He watched, not caring what the new substance would do, only hoping it would make him feel a little better than he was feeling now; and after a rush of fluid warmth, he did. Mom was right – she always was, it was just what he needed. And what a great high it was, so much better than the speedy, acid he had wanted only a few minutes ago, or that teasing hash. He leaned back against the wall, still sitting on the floor, and let the pleasant, heroin numbness encase him as he melted into that always present sitcom in his mind.

It was the next day, so Mike halfheartedly headed for Lauren’s to once again act as her “love slave”. He wasn’t happy about the idea either, but he couldn’t find any other solution to the problem. She had him by the proverbial balls, and her grip was tightening with every event he was forced to attend with her. Tonight would be big, and he had to be on his best behavior or he could blow the whole thing.

She told him the party was being hosted by a record producer, specifically to meet some new, young talent. But Mike was skeptical, she had said things like that before, and it always turned out to be a mistake she had made: “Oh, sorry Mike. I must have misunderstood,” would be her lame excuse to him. He was so tired of it; but she was getting the band some good, higher paying gigs, and the parties were a nice diversion from the guys and the pad, so life couldn’t be all that bad – could it?

Mike hailed a cab and made his way uptown. Loren insisted he not take the train or bus anymore – he was supposed to be above that now, no escort of hers would be seen in a dark, disgusting New York City subway. He sat back in the cab to do some thinking about his situation when it suddenly occurred to him that Micky never made it home last night. 'Gee, he’s never done that before. Even when he gets laid he always comes home. I wonder what happened,' he thought. 'God, I hope it wasn’t what I said. I didn’t say anything that bad...did I? He wasn’t that upset...was he? Oh well, I’ll straighten it out with him later. He’s an adult – he can take care of himself. I have my own problems to think about. Micky only has the usual girl trouble – he’ll get over it.'

He decided his own matters concerning Lauren were more pressing, and so tried to return his focus to his current dilemma, and how he should behave himself for the evening’s activities. But, instead he allowed his mind to wander off into another one of those daytime excursions – only this one scared him...

Nez found himself having his life’s blood sucked from the veins of his neck by an evil, monstrous, yet beautiful, blonde vampire. It made him weak at the knees, but still he couldn’t resist wanting more, while wishing all the while that it would stop. He could feel her sharp fangs rip into his flesh as she held him down with strength he would never hope to possess. Then suddenly, after what seemed like forever, he felt her give way, and a lightness came over him. He felt powerful, and strong, and hungry. So, he reached up for the beautiful blonde, and forced her into a more submissive position that allowed him to dine on her lips. His thirst was finally quenched, when she was dry.

'Jeez, what the hell is happening to me?' he thought to himself. 'Man, she’s not that bad...well, maybe she is.'

Meanwhile, Peter had found himself on an upstate New York commune with Jane. He wasn’t exactly sure how he had gotten there, but the scenery was pretty, and so was she. Unfortunately, he remembered that there may be a gig to get to tonight, and no way of getting there. Boy, Mike’s gonna be mad, he thought. No matter though, he can be late...just this once anyway. Besides, it was so nice being away from the city, up in the mountains with clean air, and an overwhelming abundance of the color green. And then there was Jane who seemed to grow out of the scenery as if she were a part of it, rather than standing in it. Tresses of strawberry blonde locks reached below her waist when the wind wasn’t catching it; otherwise she resembled a wild lion stalking her prey in the wilderness. Today, that prey would be Peter. They were both determined to see their sexual goal come to fruition; so they chose to escape the city for a while in search of some quiet and solitude – only Peter couldn’t quite remember agreeing to this – must have been those Quaaludes. She took him to a secluded spot by a small lake hidden in the woods hoping the nature setting would inspire them both. It had been a long drive up in the old communal VW, and it was getting late, so they wasted no more time, and got right down to business. The cold evening air made for a good excuse to snuggle under the quilt they had brought with them, but more difficult to get warmed up to the moment.

“This is much better than being at the pad,” Peter commented.

“Yeah...it’s a little cold though.”

“Well, that’s what I’m here for, right?”

“Yes,” She said as she gave him a little kiss.

He kissed her back and fell onto the grass as they once again attempted that undressing maneuver they clumsily did the day before. So, now they were both freezing, but still determined to muddle through. Shivering beneath that thin quilt they locked in each other’s embrace in an effort to both keep warm, and get aroused. But it was clear it was going to be an uphill battle. After a half hour of foreplay, Peter was nowhere near ready for the next crucial step; so armed with her knowledge of what she had witnessed others doing in this situation, Jane reached down and gave him a crude, but helpful hand-job. It worked, and now they were on their way, if only they could control their enthusiasm long enough to get it right. Technically, they understood what was to be done, but in the heat of the moment with no experienced teacher to show the way – well, it was the blind leading the blind, and so the outcome was less than graceful. Finally, after much readiness, they decided to take the plunge.

“Ouch!” Jane screamed.

“Oh, I’m sorry!”

“That’s my knee again. You have to go a bit higher, Peter.”

“Oh, okay...is that better?”

“Higher.”

“Here?”

“Not quite. Wait...let me help.”

“Ohhh...that’s better.”

So, with Jane’s guidance, Peter found what he was searching for, and it only took them two days, too. They prodded through the final stages of their goal allowing nature’s instincts to lead the way, until minutes later they had at long last reached the climax of their target. Eureka! They’d done it! Their cooperation, and determination had seen them through all the misguided turns, and bumpy roads, but they did it; and they were two virgins no more. They could now hold their heads up high as a part of the experienced crowd of an enlightened generation who viewed sex as a great pastime. No longer in the dark when they had to listen to people explain their sexual tensions and conquests; for now they had their very own sexual event to draw upon. They decided to quickly dress and head for some shelter, though they were both eager to try for seconds – they were also freezing, and anyway, tomorrow would be another day.

Meanwhile, Micky finally made it back to the pad only to find it empty of his roommates. It figures, he thought; just when he wanted someone to talk to, they all disappear. Peter was out with Jane, Mike was out with Lauren, and Davy was out with one of probably a dozen girls, and that only made Micky feel lonelier, and more depressed. He went to lie down on his bed and try to sleep, but he only stared at the ceiling awake, thinking about Charlie and what she was doing with Butch. It was all still too new, and it didn’t quite seem real yet, but somehow he knew that everything had changed suddenly. He didn’t feel like the same person anymore; even his surroundings looked different. The walls to his room seemed grayer, and duller...darker.

'Charlie isn’t the first girl not to want me. Why do I feel so bad this time? Mike’s right, she isn’t that special – so why can’t I stop thinking about her? I’d feel a lot better if the guys were home with me...I wish Mike were here. God, even Peter found himself someone – why can’t I? I’m not that bad...am I? What’s wrong with me? I tried so hard this time, and it still didn’t work. What am I doing wrong? I wish I were high...I should’ve stayed at moms...why did I come home?'

He stared at the blank ceiling some more and then he remembered the little gift mom had slipped to him before he had left. So he got up and reached into his coat pocket to find the tiny bag of white, crystal powder, and then went to work on the little ritual mom had taught him.