The Funhouse

and listening to a Bob Seger number that was blasting out of the jukebox with the force of a jackhammer.
        When the music stopped, Liz said, “You know what would be great?”
        “What?”
        “If you came along with me to Vegas.”
        “ Me?”
         “ Sure. Why not?”
        “My God,” Amy said, shocked by the idea.
        “Listen, I know I'm a damned desirable little package,” Liz said. “But I'm not one bit sexier than you are. You've got just what it takes to be a huge success in Vegas.”
        Amy laughed with embarrassment.
        “You really do,” Liz insisted.
        “Not me.”
        “They'd be standing in line for a chance to get in your pants. Listen, kid, in that town you'd outdraw Liberace and Frank Sinatra combined .”
        “Oh, Liz, I couldn't do that sort of thing. Not in a million years.”
        “You did it with Jerry.”
        “Not for money.”
        Which is foolish.”
        “Anyway, that was different. Jerry was my steady boyfriend.”
        “What's so great about steady?” Liz demanded. “Did going steady mean anything to Jerry? He dumped you the second he heard you were knocked up. He wasn't considerate or sympathetic or loyal or anything else a steady is supposed to be. I guarantee you, none of the men you'd be escorting in Vegas would treat you that shabbily.”
        “With my luck,” Amy said, “my first client would turn out to be a homicidal maniac with a butcher knife.”
        “No, no, no,” Liz said. “Your clients would all come with seals of approval from hotel pit bosses and other casino executives. They'd send you only the high rollers-doctors, lawyers, famous entertainers, millionaire businessmen…You'd only take on the best people.”
        “This may come as a surprise to you,” Amy said, abut even a millionaire businessman can turn out to be a homicidal maniac with a butcher knife. It's rare. I'll grant you that. But it's not impossible.”
        “So you carry your own knife in your purse,” Liz said. “If he starts acting creepy, you make the first cut.”
        “You have an answer for everything, don't you?”
        “I'm just a girl from little old Royal City, Ohio,” Liz said, abut I'm not a hick.”
        “Well, I don't think I'll be going to Vegas with you at the end of the year,” Amy said. “It's going to be a long, long time before I'm even ready to go on a nice, quiet, no-sex date. I've sworn off men for a while.”
        “Bullshit,” Liz said.
        “It's true.”
        “You have been a stick-in-the-mud so far this summer,” Liz said. “But that'll pass.”
        “No. I mean it.”
        “Last week you went to the doctor I recommended,” Liz said smugly.
        “So?”
        “So you got a prescription for the pill. Would you get a prescription for the pill if you really intended to be a wallflower?”
        “You talked me into that,” Amy said.
        “For your own good.”
        “I wish I hadn't gone to that doctor. I won't be needing the pill or anything else until I'm out of college. I'm going to sit back, with my knees together, and be virginal.”
        “Like hell you are,” Liz said. “Two weeks from now, you'll be flat on your back, pinned under one stud or another. Two weeks at most. I know it. I know you backwards and forwards, up and down, inside and out. You know how it is that I'm able to read you so clearly? It's because you're exactly like me. We're two of a kind. Peas in a pod. Oh, not on the surface, necessarily. But deep down, deep in your heart where it counts, you're exactly like me, honey. That's why we'd be great together in Vegas. We'd have a ball.”
        Richie Atterbury walked up to the table. He was a tall, thin boy, not handsome but not unattractive, either. He had thick, dark hair, and he wore horn-rimmed glasses that made him look a little bit like Clark Kent. “Hi, Liz. Hi, Amy.”
        Amy said, “Hello, Richie. That's a pretty shirt you're wearing.”
        “You really think so?” he asked.
        “Yes. I like it a lot.”
        “Thanks,” Richie said awkwardly. He looked at Liz with his big, lovesick, puppy eyes, and he said, “Ready for the movie?”
        Can't wait,” Liz said. She stood up. To Amy, she said, “We're going to the drive-in. That's really fitting, too.” She grinned wickedly. “Because Richie sure knows how to drive it in.”
        Richie blushed.
        Liz laughed and said,