Divine Evil

convince herself she was in love with him. And he with her.
    Her mother had talked to her very frankly about sex, birth control, responsibilities, consequences. The specters of AIDS, of unwanted pregnancies, of abortion, combined with her fevered desire to go to college and study journalism had been more than enough deterrent to make her keep her head with Josh.
    Ernie Butts was a different matter.
    When he had taken her into his room, all thoughts of responsibility, the future, her mother's caring and practical words faded.
    He'd lit dark candles, had put on music that burned in her blood. He hadn't asked. He hadn't joked or fumbled like Josh. He'd been rough, and that frightened her at first. Then he had done things, things that her mother never told her about. Things that had made her cry out and sob and scream. And hunger.
    Even thinking of it now had her wet and throbbing.
    She had gone back to him, night after night, with the excuse of a chemistry project she no longer cared about. Mixed with the blind, terrible need she had for him was fear. She knew, as women do, that he was cooling toward her, that he was sometimes thinking of someone else when he buried himself inside her.
    She wanted reassurance. Craved it.
    She parked at the pump and got out, knowing she looked her best in the skimpy shorts and tank top. Sally was justifiably proud of her legs—the longest and shapeliest in the cheerleading squad. She'd dipped into her mother's hoarded cache of White Shoulders and spent an hour wrapping her hair in Benders to turn it into a mass of spiraling curls.
    She felt very mature and sophisticated.
    When Ernie strolled out, she leaned against the car door and smiled. “Hi.”
    “Hi. Need some gas?”
    “Yeah.” She tried not to be disappointed that he didn't kiss her. After all, he wouldn't even hold her hand in school. “I'm sure glad it's Friday.” She watched him fit the nozzle into the tank, looking at his hands, his long, bony fingers, and remembering. “One more week, and we graduate.”
    “Yeah.” Big fucking deal, Ernie thought.
    She wiped her damp palms on her shorts. “Mary Alice Wesley's having a big graduation party. She said I could bring a date. Do you want to go?”
    He looked at her in that odd, penetrating way he had. “I don't go to parties. How much gas do you want?”
    “You might as well fill it.” She licked her lips. “Are you going to the parade tomorrow?”
    “I got better things to do than stand around and watch a bunch of jerks walk down the street.”
    She would be marching, too, and it hurt her that he didn't remember. Her grandfather was coming up, all the way from Richmond, with his video camera, to record her last stint as head cheerleader for Emmitsboro High. But she didn't feel like mentioning it now. “We're having a barbecue after, at my house. Just hamburgers and stuff. Maybe you could come over.”
    He wasn't even interested enough to snicker at the idea of sitting in Sally's backyard, munching burgers and drinking lemonade. “I got to work.”
    “Oh. Well, it goes on all day, so if you have time …” Her voice trailed off as she groped, humiliated. “I've got the car tonight, if you want to take a drive or something when you get off work.”
    He looked at her again as he pulled the nozzle from the tank. Looked like Sally's tank was running on empty, too. He grinned. She was hot, all right. She'd probably drop to her knees and suck him off right then and there if he told her to.
    “Why don't you come by around nine-thirty and see how I feel?”
    “Okay.”
    “That's fifteen-fifty for the gas.”
    “Oh. I'll get my purse.”
    As she bent in the car window, Clare drove in. Ernie forgot Sally existed. “Hey, Ernie.”
    “Want me to fill it up?”
    “Yeah.” She smiled, carefully avoiding glancing down at his pendant. “Haven't seen you in a couple of days.”
    “Been busy.”
    “I bet.” She rested her elbow on the window and pillowed her head. She'd just driven back from the hospital and another visit with Lisa MacDonald. She was tired but no longer guilty. “You must have a lot going, with graduation just a week away.”
    “Your friends are still here.”
    “They're going to stay for the parade tomorrow. You going?”
    He only shrugged.
    “I wouldn't miss it,” Clare went on. “I hear they're going to be selling fried dough. I have a real weakness for fried dough.”
    “Ernie. Here's the money.” Sally walked up to stand between them.