Marilyn Grant found the Fall of '76 a time of responsibility. There was more to being vice president of her sorority chapter than she'd thought, and she had other responsibilities in the chapter as well. The second meeting on rush, Natalie laid some out.

"All right. The first thing you do is meet the girl, introduce yourself and get her name, an impression, and some concrete data. What is her intended major? Where is she from? Anything else she wants to tell you. That's important, you know. It's all well and good to have these categories in which to place the rushees: major, where from, and so on: but it's just as important -- maybe more important -- to know what they want you to know about themselves. And it's important to answer their questions about Zeta, too. Remember, we're one of the oldest sororities in the nation.

"Anyway, the next thing you do is to pass them along to some active who has something in common with them. And choose that active with a grain of common sense, too. We're trying to impress all of them, even the ones we won't want, with how good it is to be a Zate. Who knows who her roommate is? Well, last year, half the girls who talked to Marilyn and got bids accepted ours. Maybe that's luck, but if Marilyn's free and the prospect has a tie to her, take them to her. She's from Evanston; her majors are English and Education; she has a boyfriend that didn't rush a fraternity. Anything else? Well she attends church and was a leader of her church youth group in high school. We might not want anybody who'll be holier than thou, but we don't want them to think they've rejected us because we aren't Christian enough."

The Sunday before rush began, she and Andy returned to First Urbana. They were welcomed back. They'd told enough people that they were leaving for the summer that nobody asked where they'd been. This close to the campus, most people probably knew that they'd been back for a Sunday, at least, but nobody mentioned that. It wasn't as though the church was full of people who never missed a Sunday.

After church, instead of leaving her on the porch, Andy was a guest of the chapter for Sunday dinner. Merrillie and she escorted him into the dining room when everybody else was seated. Even full professors visiting the house usually got escorted by the president alone, but Merrillie had said that it would be ridiculous to omit her. The sophomores burst into applause when they came in, and the others followed. Andy seated Merrillie and then her. He took his seat last. After dinner, Laura made a pretty speech about how grateful they were. Andy was about to reply when Barbara got up.

"You've heard that Nancy went up a grade, and figure that Andy probably helped her. You've heard that Hailey went from a D to a B; Andy is certain to have been a big help. I had a C both semesters. You might figure that he wasn't much help to me. Well, that's not how it went. I'd taken the course before. The first semester, I got a D. Worse, through that semester, my grades kept falling. My professor warned me to take the course over instead of going on. But I'd been a pledge, and I figured that I would work harder. By the time I got to the final the second semester, I don't think 100 on the final would have passed me for the course, and I didn't come anywhere near to finding out. I left a third of the questions blank. Well, when I transferred, the D didn't. I retook the course, and I did better. I wasn't pledging, after all. Even so, I was in over my head towards the end of the course. I was totally lost in the second semester when Andy came along. So, my C is as much to Andy's credit as the others' B s."

"Well," Andy said, "I'm complimented. But, really, I didn't take the tests. These three did. And I didn't learn the stuff that year. These three did. You'll hear that you have to work to learn math, and that's 100% true. On the other hand, when people say to me that they'll work harder, I ask myself whether they shouldn't be working smarter, instead. I hope I helped Barbara, Nancy, and Hailey to work smarter. You have to read the book before the lecture; you have to listen to the lecture; you have to read the book after the lecture. If there's a discussion section, you have to go to that section with concrete questions. You have to solve the homework problems for yourself. That's the work you have to do to learn any math course.

"And math is a series of stair-steps. If you did really poorly on section 11, it doesn't do any good to say you'll study section 12 better, because you usually can't learn section 12 until you've learned section 11. Sometimes, section 12 doesn't depend on section 11, but section 15 will. Anyway, you're going to have to learn section 11, or fail the course. It only makes sense to learn it when the professor is teaching it. It is really easier then; you'll get tested on it then; and the rest of the course will be less confusing if you do.

"Now, I'm really grateful for this good food, great company, and kind words. But I've sent word to Laura, and I'm stating publicly now: if there is a group who want tutoring in College Algebra this semester, I'll make some time free. I can't guarantee being free next semester. You see, I took my book on partial differential equations home with me over the summer, and I got sort of on top of the first half of the book. I don't know it well enough, but I have a head start on most of the rest of my class. I'll have some time to spare. On the other hand, I can't guarantee to have any time free next semester. And I guarantee that I won't be willing to tutor anyone spring semester that I haven't tutored fall semester. Basically, falling behind makes both the student's job harder and the teacher's job harder. And I won't have time to help someone who makes my job harder. Now, Marilyn assures me that you have something more important than studying to do fall semester, but that's your choice." He'd warned her, but still she held her breath.

"Well, Andy," said Merrillie, "we're grateful for what you did. I don't think we'll be asking you to do any more." After all, those who wouldn't be helped were future pledges, both not anyone they knew yet and people totally unaware that the help had ever been available.

When they left the dining room, they went towards the front door. Andy's three former students were right behind them, but most of the room was heading for the chapter room. She would have to be there soon, too. When they got a little past the narrowest part of the hall, where the bannister from the stairs curved out at its fanciest, the three all said "'bye" in unison. The turned around, facing the opposite direction, and linked arms.

"Then use the back stairs," she heard Nancy tell someone. They soon were all alone on the front porch.

"You have a fan club," she said.

"Who expect us to smooch," Andy said. "Be a shame to disappoint them." And so, on the porch, with the whole world -- if not the sisters -- to see, they had a great kiss. His hands were all over her back and ass while their tongues made love to each other.

"Goodbye," he said. "I love you."

"Love you, too. It's not that long."

"Practically forever."

She ended up spending almost the entire rush period talking to girls that had been brought to her. That included three girls who had kept boyfriends from high school who were attending the U of I but not going to pledge. When bid time came around and Antonia mentioned one, she spoke up to say that there had been three.

"Four," said Sandra. "You were busy and Anne remembered about Clark."

"Look," Jessica asked, "do we want to be the house without Greek boyfriends? Andy's a great guy; I'm not denying that. But are the fraternities going to invite us to house parties if we snub them?"

"I think you're crossing that bridge long before you come to it," Natalie said. "In the first place, we're talking about four girls, and some of those I wouldn't want anyway. I'm not saying who; that's not the pledge chair's job. Most of the freshmen don't have boyfriends on campus. Of course, that will change, but we can't control who they fall for in October. Maybe part of my responsibility is managing where they look, but I can't control who they meet in class. And we haven't met the other boyfriends, either. Maybe they plan to pledge but no frat will have them, and with good reason.

"Having said that, a non-pledging boyfriend is a negative in my book. They won't all be like Andy, by any means. Still, it would be a minor negative. If we really want the girl otherwise, let's bid for her. In the first place, we don't know the boy; we've seen a lot of guys with worse problems than being non-Greek. In the second place, coming to college is a big change; how many high-school romances survive that change? In the third place, I don't mind being known as a house that welcomes, or will at least look at, a girl with a non-Greek boyfriend. I can't imagine that the other girls care, but probably the girls in that sort of relationship do. And the more girls that want to look at us, the better. But, if you have some other opinion, you can vote that opinion."

However many sisters agreed or disagreed with her, they bid on two of the girls with non-rushing boyfriends, Debby and Paula.

Marilyn spoke on another issue. "Look, Kathy wants to major in Chemical Engineering. I wouldn't speak for a girl who was unsuitable otherwise. After all, the University doesn't even allow them to declare a major yet. But I think that in a girl whom we'd bid on otherwise, like Kathy, this is a strong positive in two ways. First, a lot more women are going into engineering than used to, and anyone who wants to break into a new field like that has to be a strong woman. We want more strong women. Second, notice that, to talk with a woman who wanted to go into engineering, we had a woman whose boyfriend is majoring in engineering. We need more diversity. We don't want everything; we don't want our share of ugly girls. But when some trait isn't something we reject, then getting more diversity is a big plus." Whether it was her speech or not, Kathy got a bid.

Although it felt a lot more selective to Marilyn this year than it had felt the year before, they ended up bidding on 40 girls. Maybe it felt more selective because they'd spoken with more girls this year; while they bid on only two fewer than the previous year, they decided not to bid on twelve more than the previous year. Sixteen accepted their bids, the same as the previous year. It turned out that Debby, Paula, and Kathy all accepted their bids.

"Great rush," Natalie told her as the executive committee was gathering for a more formal evaluation. "We're not only getting a better acceptance rate than we got your year, we're getting a better class of girls looking. Bids and acceptances don't mean anything if the freshmen don't think you're worth considering. You wouldn't have given us a look if it weren't for your mother." Marilyn didn't really think that was so. Zeta was top rate. On the other hand, she'd thought that before she'd ever seen the house, and that had been Mom's influence.

The new pledges would move in Saturday. Friday, right after his last class, Andy picked her up. They stopped on the way to buy groceries. She had another shopping bag she left in the car while she shopped. He ceremoniously handed her "her keys," and she preceded him up the stairs while he carried both bags. He'd left her "her drawer" in his dresser, and she filled it. They made love before she cooked the spaghetti.

Their first meal in his room, he'd put water in the saucepan, put the open can of spaghetti in it and heated everything that way. He'd served it on plates with a hunk of lettuce beside each serving. She showed him that real spaghetti was cooked from scratch -- okay, she used bottled sauce, but she boiled her own spaghetti. The salad was on separate plates, and the spaghetti, sauce, and broccoli were in separate serving dishes.

Cooking took a while, and it was a little late when they were done. Still, they had only so many nights when they could make love.

"Leave the dishes," Andy said. "I've lots of time to wash them."

"Do you have the dish soap?"

"Sure. I got it after the first time you were here." Which suggested that he didn't wash dishes when she hadn't used them. Really, though, why should he? Catching his own germs couldn't be dangerous.

While she was thinking this, he started taking off her apron and her borrowed shirt. He picked her up and laid her on the bed before removing her panties. He stripped off his own underpants and lay beside her.

"Oh love," he said. He kissed her face and stroked her body. Then he kissed her body and stroked the special parts between her legs. "Oh love," he repeated when lightning struck. He kissed her forehead while she relaxed. "Sweet, sweet, sweet." When her breathing had eased, he kissed down her temple to her ear, down he neck to her chest, and down her chest to her tit. When he got there, he began to fondle her again.

She was ready to tell him that it was too soon when she decided that it wasn't. When she thought it wasn't enough, she reached for him. Instead of moving over her, he abandoned her nipple and flopped down on his back.

"Want to be on top?" Well, did she? It sounded sexy, and she needed him in her. She was spoiled; the fingers which had satisfied her for nearly a year no longer sufficed.

"Yeah!"

"Well, come on, then." She had the idea, more or less, of what to do, and he helped. When she had her knees on both sides of his chest and was right above him, he spread her. She grasped him and put him in the right place. "Slowly." And, slowly according to directions and -- for that matter -- common sense, she eased herself down on him. She had to shuffle her knees a tiny bit when he didn't seem to be going in straight enough. Then he was filling her. Then she relaxed a little more, and he was pressing into her for more than full.

She leaned forward and put her hands on his shoulders with her arms straight. One of Andy's hands cupped her right breast, and one of his fingers parted her pussy lips.

She moved up and down. Soon, she learned what motion aroused her most. One glance at his face persuaded her that she didn't have to worry about arousing him; he looked to be in absolute bliss. As she moved on his cock so it and his finger aroused her higher and higher, she closed her eyes to keep her attention all on the inward sensation.

When lightning struck, she pressed down and felt fire spread throughout her body. She shook, and she felt herself contract around him deep inside her.

"Marilyn!" Andy shouted. She felt herself lifted off the bed by his hips once. Then he was throbbing in the midst of her contractions.

When she fell forward, he came out. Then his arms were around her hugging her to keep her on top of him. His breath was gasping somewhere near the top of her head, and she felt herself raised and lowered by the motions of his chest.

"Should I move?" she asked some time later.

"Never." After a little, though, she did move. When she straightened up so she was sitting on him, she felt some little Andies running back to where they had come from.

"I love you," he said.

"Love you, too, but I should get cleaned up." She went into the tiny bathroom and closed the door. She used a douche and showered in his shower. When he joined her, the idea felt sexy. The reality was a little crowded, but they both got clean. They dried each other off and got dressed. He drove her back and kissed her on the porch.

Lying in bed, she thought about the coming weeks; then she thought about the last evening. She'd sometimes worried that Andy wasn't taking enough initiative. Well, he was taking initiative now. That was good. It meant a little awkwardness, sometimes. Well, they hadn't escaped awkwardness all many times when she was taking the initiative, and they were lucky about those times. Really, they were learning together. That business of being on top, whatever the initial problems of fitting themselves together, had been sexy as hell -- not only the idea but the feeling when she got into it. She'd been able to go for just what made her feel best, but he'd initiated the position. Indeed, starting with the motel, he'd been initiating all kinds of things. He'd actually asked her to live with him, and she'd said no. That, she felt, was the proper relation between the sexes.

Marilyn was a managing type person. She'd run for MYF president not to look good on her college apps but to change the MYF -- to change the relationship between older adults and young adults in the entire church. She'd recently announced that the sorority needed strong women and more diversity. That wasn't something that the chapter had voted on or something which had come down from national. That was Marilyn's opinion.

Her parents had an old fashioned relationship, more typical of the early '50s than the late '70s. Her father's career determined where they lived, give or take a commute. His success in it determined the family's level of consumption. Within these broad limits, her mother managed the family, and not just kirche, kuchen, und kinder. The furnishings of the house and the entertainment they offered were her decisions. She was a manager, not a dictator. Her husband's -- even her children's -- tastes and distastes in food influenced her menu choices. The friends she had whose husband's Rick Grant couldn't stand were mostly guests at lunches instead of dinners. Still, when she decided to keep her daughter's sexual activity from her husband, Marilyn had been grateful rather than thinking that this was a strange secret for one parent to keep from another.

Marilyn fully expected to manage as much as her mother did. More, if she were to marry Andy she expected to buy his clothes. Rick Grant -- father's day presents aside -- bought his own. On the other hand, she fully expected to have her own career in her own profession, and she expected it to be just as important as her husband's. She would have resisted Andy telling her how to study, even though she acknowledged that he had more success in studying than she did.

In the most basic relationship of male and female, though, she expected the boy to take the initiative. The place of the girl was to say yes or no. More accurately, the place of the girl was to refuse him or let him. And Andy hadn't taken enough initiative for something like their first year and a half. Now, however, he was taking initiative just fine. She didn't mind saying no, though she had to be careful to distinguish 'not now' from 'never.'

About how seldom she'd said no in the past, she was conflicted. A good girl denied her boyfriend any access below the belt. A good girl in love, however, could be enticed much further by repeated appeals from the man she loved. A modern, free woman decided how far she would go and stuck to that decision until she redecided -- however much her lover might importune. She, however contradictory these were, both wanted to be a modern, free woman and wanted to be a good girl. Well, she'd told April that everybody both wanted and didn't want some thing or another, and that you had to choose. She'd chosen. Andy, all unconsciously, had forced her to choose. She was a modern, free woman but a modern, free woman in love.

The next week they put the new pledges through their paces. She also made it a point to get to know each new pledge, starting with the ones she hadn't spoken with during rush. A lot that she learned was still superficial; after each meal-time interview she wrote down on a card the pledge's name, hometown, enough physical description to distinguish her from the others, planned major, and -- if she could -- one other thing she'd learned.

Natalie had warned her that she would be in charge of teaching them the Zate songs again, and she marked a guess at the quality of the girl's singing from her speaking voice.

Among the other duties which took her from Andy were general all-Greek meetings. The presidents and vice presidents of both fraternities and sororities met. So did the presidents and vice presidents of sororities. Sorority vice presidents met often enough so that she got to know the other women. The houses were rivals, but they also had things in common.

All-university dances were on Saturdays. Before the first one, she stood in the house doorway watching the new pledges file out with their dates, the pledges from Gamma Nu. For the last few minutes, Andy stood across from her. Then they went to the dance themselves. They didn't have any passengers, since Gamma Nu had provided enough rides. She had several dresses suitable for dances, and several suitable for church. She was wearing the only one she had suitable for both.

They were sitting out one of the fast dances when Judy, a pledge, came up to her looking shaken. She looked like she had something important to say, but she looked scared or embarrassed by Andy's presence.

"Three Cokes?" asked Andy getting up. She nodded.

"Marilyn," Judy said, "my date groped me!"

"On the dance floor?"

"Just off."

"Where? What part of you did he touch?" The ass wasn't so bad -- gross, maybe, but you had to expect gross from some frat pledges.

"My crotch."

"Well, we'll have to deal with him, but that can be later. What do you want to do right now?"

"Could I go back to the house?"

"Sure... Know the crud's name?"

"Bill Gregory."

"Well, remember it." She looked up at where Andy was standing with the cokes. Reading her expression, he came over. "Judy needs to get back to the house now. Think we could take her?"

"Sure." He drained his Coke and started for the door.

"Drink up," she told Judy. "It'll be a few minutes." They were waiting in the doorway when Andy drove up. He walked back to get them, but she noticed that Judy stayed a yard behind them in their walk to the car. Andy opened her door and helped her in. Judy walked around and got in the left-hand back seat. Andy made no comment, but he walked around the front of the car to get to his place.

"You don't have to worry about Andy," she told Judy while he was out of earshot. When they got to the house and Andy went to open Judy's door, however, she scooted over in the seat right behind Marilyn. "I'll walk Judy to the house," she said. "You're really over-reacting," she told Judy while she did. "Andy's a nice guy who gave you a ride."

"I know he wouldn't do anything. I'm just scared."

"Well, we'll talk more about this tomorrow afternoon. Sorry. I have things to do between now and then. You can talk to Natalie between now and then, too, but not until everybody's back from the dance. She needs to be there."

"Well, what now?" she asked Andy back in the car. It was fairly late to go back to the dance, and the rules were strict. If they wanted back in, they'd have to buy new tickets.

"Want to go home?" Well, it really wasn't her home. She'd said she wouldn't move in. On the other hand, she felt like it was home -- their home.

"Yeah." The night was beginning to get chilly, and there was no heat in the room. After a kiss, Andy started to take her dress off. "No. Let me." She needed the dress to be perfectly neat in the morning for church. So they undressed separately. He'd left her a big gap on the left end of the closet, but they nearly collided at the closet door.

She went into the bathroom in her underwear and shoes. She took her time removing her makeup. She took out her contacts and left the case on "her shelf" in the medicine cabinet. When she came out, he went in. The weird floor lamp by the bedside was lit. She stripped off her underwear quickly, hung it on hooks in the closet, and got into bed. The sheets were chilly.

He came out of the bathroom nude and nearly erect. He walked around the foot of the bed to get in the other side. His skin was as cold as the sheets. His kiss was warm, though. His hand was still chilly, but he kept it moving. When it finally stroked between her thighs and then across her lips, it wasn't quite as cold.

His finger might be cool, but its strokes up and down her inner lips made her feel warm and then hot. Meanwhile, he didn't stop kissing her face. Sometimes he scattered kisses over her nose, forehead, temples, and ears. Sometimes he just kissed her -- his tongue tangling with hers. When she felt herself close to climax, Andy raised his head, but his finger continued its regular motion. He was watching her.

Then lightning struck. She could feel fire spread from her center to every part of her body, and the fire shook her as it flowed.

"Lovely girl." He kissed all over her face. "Delightful woman." Then his finger began again. This was delightful, truly it had felt marvelous, but it was what they could have in the car. She wanted more, and she reached for him.

"Back against me," he said. They'd done that before, and it had been great. She turned to her right, nearly falling off the bed, and backed up. He helped her get just the right position. "Oh, my love," he said as they touched. "Sweet," he said when he was really inside. He spread her, filling her with his warm firmness. "Sweet... Marilyn!" He had filled her completely.

When his hand tugged her leg, she raised it. His finger returned to her clit, and it felt better when they were joined like this. She began to move back and forth on the bed -- up and down in his lap. He moved in the opposite direction, and he filled her, almost emptied her, and filled her again. She was close, very close, to her climax, but she held it off to feel the sensations of them moving in rhythm.

"Marilyn!" He grabbed her leg and pressed more deeply into her. His throbbing within her brought the lightning. Every throb of his cock sent sparks along her nerves, and fire spread.

Then they were both at peace, no motion but their breathing. He slid out of her, down her hip, and then away. She was nearly asleep when he turned off the light. Then he tucked the covers tight around her. The temperature didn't call for it, but it was a symbol of love.

She woke in the night needing to go to the bathroom. The confusion of a new place woke her thoroughly, but she figured out her path. She got back in bed chilly and wanting his warmth to hold her, but he'd turned onto his back while she was gone. Soon, she was back asleep.

The alarm clock brought new confusion. No, she was in Andy's room and Andy's bed. She was where she should be. When he bumped into her she expected to be held. Instead he got up and headed to the bathroom. By the time he was done, she needed to go herself. She went in with her purse, used the facilities, washed her hands, took her pill with water from her hand, and put in her contacts. She thought about her makeup for a minute, but that was best done after coffee; besides, she was getting chilly. She went out.

"Come back to bed," were the words that greeted her.

"Aren't we going to church?" On the other hand, the bed looked more attractive.

"Hours yet." He moved aside invitingly, and she got under the covers. She was chilly, and his looking at her, while exciting, somehow made her chillier.

"Brrr.... Goose bumps." He ignored her complaint to stroke her. This time, his hand was warm.

"Yeah." He held her nipple. "Here's a big one."

"Silly!" And he was silly, but he was sexy, too. And his kiss was all sexy and no silly. "You want?" The Pill was not only safer than his things, it was much more convenient, too. If they wanted to make love, they didn't have to worry about protection.

"Always." Which was nearly true. Andy might have been a nice guy and an obedient guy who would take no for an answer, but, if no wasn't the answer, he seemed insatiable.

"Before church?" Really, she wasn't sure about that. On the other hand, if she had to make a choice, she'd missed church for less pleasant reasons. And they were a couple in this bed, too.

"Well, what choice do we have? After church you have house business, and during church would draw criticism from the congregation." Andy was being totally silly.

"You're silly." But he was sexy, too. She kissed him for his sexiness, and -- just maybe -- for his silliness. His hand didn't stop moving until it rested on her shoulder to push her back on the bed. Then, it was Andy who was giving her the kiss. Soon, his hand went to her thighs, and she spread them to let him in. He knew her so well. Invited by the steady strokes of his finger on her clitoris, her climax came near.

She grabbed his arm and held it right there where he was stroking her so slowly, so sexily, so right. He sucked her earlobe, and even that felt sexy. Then he nuzzled down her neck, and that felt more sexy, yet.

Lightning struck. She gasped and wiggled as fire spread through her. His strokes fed the fire, and lightning struck again. Then the fire was only a pleasant warmth, and her muscles turned to dishrags.

"Darling Marilyn," he said as he stopped stroking. He held her there and was kissing her shoulder, then all over her face. When his kiss finally found her lips, his finger returned to her cleft. She could have told him that it was too soon, but those strokes felt good.

He put his head under the covers to kiss her tits. Around the time he got to her nipple, she felt her climax approaching again. This was great, but if they were going to make love, they were going to make love.

"Andy." She grabbed his shoulders. He moved off her tit.

"Get the covers," he said. She held the covers so they didn't slide off as he got into position. When she felt him at her entrance, she pulled him up by his shoulders. She had neither the strength nor the leverage to actually move him, but he cooperated. His face stared into hers as he filled her. She enjoyed that fullness, enjoyed his kiss on her hairline.

Then he was moving, and she enjoyed the motion even more. Filled, stroked within, emptied, stroked almost the same way, filled. She felt her body, quite without her deciding it, move against his. That was even better. He held her shoulders to pull her to meet his thrust, and she held his ass to pull him into her. The sensations were delightful, and she would enjoy experiencing them forever. Then forever became only one more second. She felt herself tense; she pulled his ass into her with extra fervor to have him fill her that last extra bit.

Lightning struck. Fire flowed from her center to her fingers and toes. She felt herself convulse. As the convulsions weakened and the fire flowed out of her, she felt him throb deep within her.

Then he fell to her right. This time, though, he took the covers with him. Well, it might be chilly, and something was dripping down one ass cheek, but she felt fine anyway.

"Sorry," he said somewhat later.

"Well, you're keeping most of me warm."

"Try to move the covers when I lift." It was himself he was lifting, and she managed to pull enough covers from under his torso that most of the gap was covered. His knees didn't move, however, and neither did the covers under them. Together, they managed to get themselves covered again, and she began to warm up. She'd spoken correctly, he was a furnace on her right side.

Whatever she might think of this as a preparation for church, it had been a great way to start the morning. She turned on her side, snuggled back against Andy and tucked the covers carefully around her. And, thinking about church, did she really believe that God wouldn't have noticed if they'd stopped at midnight? She loved the guy, and she made love with him -- anybody didn't like that, tough. That was about people's opinion, not God's, but -- despite what Mom had said -- it wasn't in the Ten Commandments. Adultery was, but this was far from adultery; neither of them was married. It was a great way to start the morning, even to start a church morning, but, probably, it was time to continue the morning if they were going to get to church.

"What time?" she asked. Andy rolled away behind her. That messed up the covers again, but he straightened them.

"8:45," he said. Well, that wasn't too bad, but there were things to do. And there were bound to be delays if they left it to the last minute. Besides, she was going to cook him some eggs, and that might mean a little searching around and making do. She was virtually certain he didn't have any pancake mix in the apartment.

"I'm going to cook you breakfast." The decision announced, she acted on it by getting up. It was chilly outside the covers, and she didn't want to get dressed before her shower.

"There's a shirt on the chair if you're cold." And so there was. It was his shirt, and must have been loose even on his immense frame. As it was, she rolled up the sleeves and kept rolling. Well, it was flannel and would keep her warm. Now, she needed eggs and butter. She looked in the refrigerator. There was milk, an open can, half a cabbage, and a bag of sugar. There were no eggs. There was no butter. There wasn't even bread.

"Do you have eggs?"

"Huh? No." He got up and started to make the bed before getting dressed.

"Butter? Margarine?" He was living cheaply, after all.

"No. Do we need them?" Well, he needed one or the other.

"What do you put on your toast."

"No toaster. No bread for that matter." She'd suspected that. Most people keep bread in the 'fridge. And few people keep sugar there.

"Why do you have sugar in your refrigerator?"

"Ants. The landlord warned me about ants. They like sugar."

"A sugar canister keeps them out."

"So does a 'fridge." Okay. Let's back up a bit.

"What were you planning on for breakfast?"

"Do you like cornflakes? I have Wheaties and Cheerios, too."

"Quite a variety for a guy who doesn't buy bread."

"Well, the cornflakes are open. But I didn't know what you eat.... I've got several bowls, too." She laughed.

"Andy, you are impossible." He went into the kitchen and got the bowls out of a cabinet and the spoons from a drawer. He grabbed the package of paper napkins, and set everything on the table.

"Which would you prefer?"

"The cornflakes are fine." He got those while she brought the milk and bag of sugar. He seated her and took his own chair. It was a remarkable formality for a guy who didn't have a sugar bowl, a guy whose sole article of apparel was a wristwatch, for that matter. "I need a robe."

"Yeah!" He passed her the cornflakes. "Should I buy you one? Mine's dirty." He seemed awfully enthusiastic. Of course, it was something else she'd have in the apartment. And, really, it was a sign that she'd pass the night. Well, before she'd pass another night, she'd give him a shopping list. He passed her the milk before using it himself, but took the sugar first. He was digging in it to loosen it up. Well, if you stored your sugar in the 'fridge, it would develop a solid crust. There didn't seem to be a sugar spoon, he used his own spoon. She'd use hers. It wasn't as if he'd had the spoon in his mouth first.

"I'll buy the robe." Really, she didn't mind storing clothes there, but she didn't want him buying her a robe. Besides, she didn't trust his taste in clothes. "Get pencil and paper." He got up to get them and came back. "Did you like my spending the night?"

"Yeah." He looked enthusiastic.

"Well, I did, too. Before I do again, here's some things you need to buy: a dozen eggs, a pound of butter, a sugar cannister." She'd leave the sugar bowl 'til later. A cup would do. Any spoon would serve for a sugar spoon. "Coffee." She'd missed that.

"I have instant." Well, that was better than nothing. Anyway, he'd not choose the right coffee maker.

"Could I have some?" He got up and put water on to boil. She should have seen the pot on the stove. He got two cups down -- with saucers, for a wonder -- and measured powder into the cups from a jar he also got down. He poured the water into the cups and brought it to the table. The cup he gave her had another spoon on the saucer. It had coffee on it, but she used it to get the sugar for the coffee. There was milk, and she used it. He drank his black.

"Bread and a toaster." At her words, he set down his cup and grabbed the pencil and paper again.

"Toothbrush, too?" he asked. He was thinking ahead of her.

"I'll get that."

"I should have thought of that."

"Andy, I should have thought of that. What I don't see is how you can live like this -- the food, I mean. You eat fine at home, don't you?"

"Sure. Dad makes coffee. If you want ground coffee, you'll have to tell me how. Mrs. Bryant cooks good dinners, good lunches when I'm there, and sack lunches for school or work. I suppose she cooks her own lunch when I'm not there. Weekends, sometimes, she leaves something we eat cold; sometimes, we go out; sometimes we order in -- but only lunch and dinner. And, of course, there are left-overs for snacks. I wonder what happens to the left-overs when I'm down here? I hadn't thought of that." Well, she was sure that two adults would figure out something to do with extra food. Didn't Mrs. Bryant have a family? But now she was chasing his idle thoughts.

"So, why don't you eat like that down here?"

"Well, I can't cook like that -- can't cook at all, really."

"Okay, I've seen that. But you can heat up those cans -- put the contents in the saucepan, dish it up into a serving bowl, put the serving bowl on the table, cook the veggies, put them in another serving bowl, put the salad on another plate." She'd leave the idea of mixing a salad for later.

"Well, you have to eat veggies and salad -- fruit for that matter -- or you get sick. You don't need to eat them all at the same meal."

"Okay, what did you eat for lunch yesterday? How did you eat it."

"Well, beef stew is covered with fat on top if you eat it without heating. I had beef stew for lunch. I put the can in the sauce pan and heated it up. Since I was in the kitchen, I ate it there. Then, I came out, and cut off a chunk of cabbage and ate that. I did cabbage instead of peas because I'd used the sauce pan."

"You ate in the kitchen? Standing up?" That was a silly question. There wasn't room in the kitchen for sitting down.

"Sure. I was alone."

"And do you eat standing up when you're in Evanston?"

"Snacks only. Mrs. Bryant tells me to sit down if she's going to fix something for me. Not every time; she told me years ago, but it's a rule."

"Um, Andy, do you eat most of your meals in this apartment standing up?"

"Not breakfast. I've got a bowl then, and it's easier to sit down."

"Well, you have a plate at dinner, don't you?"

"Here? Not unless you're here. Anyway, except for breakfast, this table is usually covered in books and stuff. I don't have anywhere else to study. I clear a place every night so I can get breakfast without thinking about it."

She'd have to consider this. Andy was a great lover, partly because he learned from books. She wondered if there were any books to teach dining etiquette. Really, he knew the rules. He didn't seem to know that he should follow the rules when he was alone. Weird guy -- nice guy, but definitely weird. She finished her cereal, and waited while he finished his.

"Okay, if you're worried about ants, you should rinse out the bowls now. Don't bother with my cup, I'll have another cup before I go." She figured that Andy needed instruction, and he didn't seem to mind it. But, then, Andy never seemed to mind anything. How little he actually minded was another question. On the other hand, she'd seen him act annoyed with his Dad.

When Andy got up to follow directions, she got up to get a clean pair of panties and one of the douches out of her drawer. She took them and her purse into the bathroom. She used the facilities, used the douche, and then started her shower. She heard him come in. Then Andy came into the tub.

"Andy."

"Let me wash you." Well, why not? He soaped his hands and began on her neck and shoulders. "You can do your face. I'm afraid of getting soap in your mouth. The closer washcloth is yours."

So they washed and dried each other. A weird preparation for church, but that was what it was. Again, Andy was much too gentle on her hair, but she took the towel from him and really rubbed. That was something else she needed here, a hair dryer.

She went out in her panties, leaving her purse in the bathroom. She put on all but the dress itself. By this time, he was out, and she went back in. After closing the door, she got the makeup out of her purse and started to apply it. When she looked in the mirror, she saw a large hickey on the right side of her neck. How was she going to cover that up? Well, she put on her eyes and lips first.

"You gave me a hickey," she said when she came out.

"I did? Darling, I'm sorry." Well, he should be sorry. He was half dressed and went back to putting on his trousers when she didn't say anything else. When she had her dress on, she went back into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. There was a collar on the dress which was supposed to lie flat. Pulled up, it didn't look too weird. When she put on her watch, it wasn't ten yet. Andy was sitting down in his shirt and tie, without his suit coat on yet.

"Maybe I set the alarm too early," he said.

"Well, better too early than too late. Andy, you've got to eat like other people do."

"I do? Why?"

"It's only sensible."

"What ways should I eat? You ate in a borrowed shirt. You wouldn't do that in your sorority house would you? What rules should I obey at home alone?"

"Well, for one, you need a plate for your food. You can't eat out of a can."

"And that's sensible? Why?" She was absolutely flummoxed. How could she explain that? "It means more to wash, and I can't catch my own germs. can I? Besides, every time you put food in another container, you waste some -- not much, but some." She could explain this later, when she had thought of the explanation. Meanwhile, he'd made an earlier comment and she had an escape.

"Don't you like my eating breakfast with you in that shirt?"

"Sure. Well, since it was a chilly day..." Meaning he'd rather see her in the nude. Well, if he wanted to see her eating breakfast in the nude, he could serve her breakfast in bed. She wasn't going to suggest that, though; he'd take it as a promise.

"Andy, I'm not going to eat a meal in my birthday suit. You see enough of me already."

"Not enough. Never enough." Man was insatiable.

"We took a shower together."

"Yeah. That was fun." And it had been fun, but it should have been enough nudity for him. She knew better, though, nothing was enough nudity for him. Well, there are worse things than your boyfriend wanting to see you naked. And one of those worse things is trying to explain standard table rules to an adult -- an adult who had made dean's list three semesters in a row.

"Andy, you're insatiable."

"About you." He smirked. "Want more coffee now?" When she nodded, he made two more cups and they drank them. She put her hand out, and he took it. Well, they couldn't make out lest it mess her dress; they couldn't kiss lest it mess her lipstick. Holding hands was all that remained. She snuck a glance at her watch a little later. It was nearly 10:40.

"Want to go?" she asked.

"Sure. Wait in the hallway 'til I get the car. It's a way." Yeah, she'd remembered that from the previous night. Obviously, plenty of non-students lived in this area; the streets had been full of parked cars before the dance was over -- empty parked cars.

When they got to church, Bess Norton took one look at her and led her to the ladies'. Her hickey showed. Bess started digging in her purse.

"I'm so embarrassed," she said.

"Don't be, Marilyn. Look, there's been a little speculation about you two. Nobody suggests that you never touch each other. You sit too close together in service to keep apart when we're not watching. Here." She pulled out a tiny safety pin and pinned the bottom of the collar closed over he neck. She pressed the points of the collar out. Marilyn looked in the mirror. The hickey was covered, and the style wasn't that bad.

"Thanks."

"No thanks needed. The one person I didn't want to see this is my daughter. Liz is one of those who think you two go at it like bunny-rabbits. I don't want her disillusioned. It changed her entire opinion of churchgoers. Where she thinks she came from..."

From this, Marilyn gathered that: First, Andy giving her a hickey was proof that they weren't having actual sex, and second, that Bess wanted her daughter to think that they were. That Liz didn't think of her parents having sex was perfectly understandable. She could remember seeing her mother's Pill dispenser -- the Pill dispenser that had been sitting in the medicine cabinet since she'd been tall enough to see it -- and realizing what it was for the first time.

"Whether thanks are needed, they are deserved."

You'd think that with all the libido so recently discharged, it would be easier to pay attention to the sermon. Really, though, she thought of what Bess had said instead.

Going back, she switched her mind from the recent past, pleasant as that had been, to the immediate future. She caught Judy as she was going in to Sunday dinner. They stepped aside.

"Look, I want to warn the other pledges against this guy. Would you be willing to tell them in a group what happened?"

"Yeah. Most of them know, already."

"After chapter meeting, then." They had dinner and went to a rather dull chapter meeting. She warned Merrillie to call on her at the end.

"Will the pledges and Natalie stay after?" she announced when called upon. "It won't be long." They stayed. Natalie was a little puzzled, but willing to go along with her little sister. The pledges were used by now to having their time taken without warning. When the door was closed again, she reminded them that they were still under chapter-meeting confidentiality rules. "Judy, will you tell us what happened to you last night."

"My date groped me in the crotch."

"That's takes care of your embarrassment, but it hardly gives your sisters sufficient warning. Who was this guy? name and description?" So Judy told his name again and gave the best description she could. "Look," Marilyn continued, "this joker has two counts against him. If he groped Judy, he's likely to try the same on you. Second, he wronged your sister. On both counts, if he ever asks you for a dance, decline."

"He's a Gamma," Natalie pointed out. "We're not going to have another house date with Gamma after this. So you only have to look out at the university dances. Remember this later on, though. He's a guy you might meet elsewhere on campus and ask you for a date."

Later she talked with Natalie alone. "We're damn-well not going to have another house date with Gamma," Natalie said. "Maybe never again, after you broadcast this. Couldn't you have checked this with me before you went public?"

"Do you really want a creep like that preying on our pledges?"

"Really, no. It's just that I'd have liked to be consulted."

"Well, she came to me. Sisters stand by sisters."

Later, she thought about what she'd said. The other sororities were rivals, but she was used to cooperating with them -- the other VPs, at least. And this creep was more than an unpleasant date; he was a menace. She wrote the VPs of the other sororities a warning about him to be passed on to any pledge assigned to him as a house date. When the envelopes were ready to be mailed in the morning, she sought out Judy. The best place they could get privacy was the kitchen two flights down from Judy's room or not.

"Thanks for doing that. I know it must have been painful, but your sisters deserve the warning."

"Well, I'm not as scared as I was yesterday. I just felt so helpless."

"You probably should have gone to one of the faculty chaperones at the dance, but that's my thoughts after sleeping on it. I should have gone to them, too, but all I thought about was getting you away from the guy you feared. Really, you looked awfully scared."

"Yeah. I was. I'm sorry about the way I treated your guy..."

"Andy. Well, he wasn't insulted. He could tell you were scared, and not of him in particular." At least, she hoped that was true. They hadn't spoken about Judy afterwards at all. "Y'know, I think that -- out of all the times he's driven me to the house -- that's the only time he hasn't walked me to the door."

"He ever done that to you? I mean..."

"Look. There's no place that creep put his hands on you that Andy hasn't put his hands on me -- just not at a dance. Maybe when the dance books say his hand should be on my waist, it's really a little lower, but that's all. In private though, the difference isn't what the guy does, but the permission he has. And on a first date? Andy gave me a closed-mouth kiss on our first date. He only surprised me once. He picked me up to kiss me. I expected the kiss, but not to be lifted off the ground. Even then, he might not have known it would be a surprise. If a guy puts his hands in your armpits, do you expect him to lift you up? Anyway, aside from that, he always moved slowly enough so I could stop him, and that's what a decent guy does. You figure you don't want to go there, don't want to go there with him, even that it's too early in your relationship, you stop him. Nobody loses."

"When Bill put his hand on by boob, I pulled it off."

"Yeah. You can do that, but then it's already done. You, at least, lose. Smart guys move slower. You going to be okay?"

"Yeah. I feel better today."

"Well, you have sisters on your side. We might work you like a team of mules, but we're your sisters already. Sisters stick together." On that they parted. She mailed the letters Monday. She thought the matter was over, and she had more to do with the chapter, Andy, and classes. Then a summons came to go before the all-Greek council. Gamma Nu had accused her of slander. Merrillie went as her advocate and they took Judy with them as a witness.

For the purpose of an accusation like this, the council consisted of representatives of four fraternities, representatives of four sororities, the dean of men, and the dean of women. The president of Gamma Nu opened up.

"This is totally irresponsible." He passed around copies of the letter. "Somebody reports that she didn't like how Bill behaved. Instead of trying to find out what happened, instead of telling the girl to grow up and act like a college student, Marilyn Grant passed on the complaint to all the sororities on campus. And it was a totally bogus complaint."

"Well, now," asked the dean of men. "What did happen?"

"I'll let Bill Gregory tell you. Bill?"

"She's a little cock tease."

"That's another accusation," said the dean of women, "and one we don't judge. The question is did you put your hand on her groin?"

"Only after she pulled my hand toward it. What was I supposed to do?"

"I didn't..." Judy said.

"Let's hear from you in a minute," the dean of men said. "Is that all you have to say for now?" he asked Bill.

"Yeah, I guess."

"If there's something else, you can speak later. Well, young lady, what's your version of what happened?"

"He grabbed my boob first. I pulled him off, and he went directly to my crotch."

"Just a minute," said the dean of women. "Let me get clear what the two of you agree on. Mr. Gregory, did you have your hand on her breast earlier?"

"Yes ma'am, but that's not what the letter..."

"Very well. And did she pull it away, pull it down, perhaps."

"She certainly pulled it down, she moved it more than halfway to her crotch herself."

"All right. We know what happened. We know there were different interpretations of what it meant. Is there anything more that anyone has to say? Anything relevant?"

"Yes, ma'am," Merrillie said. "I'd like to point out that the letter is no longer in question. Marilyn said that a pledge reported that Bill groped her. Judy confirms that, indeed, Bill Gregory confirms that he groped her. All Marilyn wrote is what Judy said."

"She wrote more than that," the president of Gamma said, "she suggested that any pledges be warned about him before future house dates."

"All right," said the dean of men, "we have the letter before us. Please go into the other room." So, instead of the jury being sequestered, the opposite sides were sequestered -- together in a less-than-friendly group. Marilyn tried to shield Judy from that Bill guy, but he seemed to be more interested in darting malevolent looks than putting his hands on her. It was only ten minutes, although it seemed much longer, before they were called back in.

"We," the dean of men said, "are going to issue two warnings. First, to Zeta Gamma Tau. There are appropriate procedures for making complaints, and a letter of this sort isn't one of them. If any officer of Zeta in the coming year breaks procedures seriously -- we aren't talking about misspelling something or using the wrong form, we mean seriously -- we'll require that that officer be replaced. As for libel or slander, there is no grounds for that accusation. Perhaps it is the part of generosity to find out both sides of a question before reporting one side, but not doing so is not an offense. How far the clear understanding of the other side of this would have mitigated the letter, we can't tell. For the warning to Gamma Nu, I'll call upon my colleague, Dean Benjamin." He sat and the dean of women rose.

"Gamma Nu has clearly not informed its pledges of common courtesy in dating. It will hold sessions in which it lays that out. It may invite actives to participate. If there is any doubt in your minds about the rules of common courtesy, and it seems to me, at least, that there is a great deal of doubt, the four sorority representatives here are willing to produce a paper laying the rules out. If we sustain one more complaint of inappropriate fondling or similar behavior from any member, active or pledge, of Gamma Nu in the next twelve months, the fraternity will be suspended from all inter-Greek activities for the next year. This will specifically include the next rush."

At the next executive-committee meeting, Merrillie laid it out.

"Okay, be careful how you operate. Marilyn really went over the line. There are procedures, as they pointed out. On the other hand, Gamma Nu was really spanked. They're held responsible for the behavior of their members, and we know how often frat boys misbehave. Being barred from Greek week would mean a tremendous loss of prestige; being barred from rush is nearly a death sentence."

"And," said Dorothy, "they are livid about us -- not only Marilyn, about the whole chapter." Dorothy had a Gamma-Nu boyfriend.

"Well," said Natalie, "you always hear that 'sisters aren't like brothers.' They had a pledge who got in trouble, and they backed him. They can't all be so stupid that they think he'd behaved sensibly, but they were brothers and they backed him. Well, Marilyn had a sister, and she backed her. I'll echo that she has -- we all have -- to be careful about procedures. But I'm not going to complain that one of my sisters backs up her sisters that way."

She went back to the tried-and-true paths of being a chapter VP. She had been chastised, but was little abashed. Classes were going okay. Because of her double major, she was taking nothing but English and Education this semester. She mostly spent Saturdays with Andy, but this Saturday was during her period. Anyway, she had three church-worthy dresses here and three at Andy's. She'd followed her trick from last year of assigning the best singers among the pledges to help some of the worst singers, and that had her working them hard without wasting all her time with them.

She'd scheduled a rehearsal of the entire group for Friday night, but Natalie had pulled a surprise scavenger hunt. She'd done her homework in that period, and by Saturday night she was almost caught up. Her mind had also turned to mush. The rest were out on a house date, but she'd begged off. Well, Andy deserved something for his patience. She wasn't going to sleep with him, but he'd used his mouth on her many times, and she'd never reciprocated. She dressed warmly. It was September 25, and cold. Andy would come get her if she asked, but she wanted to surprise him. She walked to the apartment, and the downstairs door was unlocked. When, she wondered, did they lock it?

She snuck up to Andy's door and tried the knob. It was locked. The guy had been a Chicagoan through his 16th year, after all. She unlocked the door and went in. He got up from the table, flustered.

"Marilyn!" Well, she hadn't surprised him with another girl. She had, instead, surprised him deep in his studies. For the first time, the place looked a mess. For some reason clothes were piled on the unmade bed; his coat was on the back of the chair; he was in stocking feet with a five-o'clock shadow; there was a pile of dirty dishes in the sink.

"Ta da." She took off her coat and dropped it over his. She remembered to shut the door. "Ta da." She took off her scarf and dropped it on the coat. Andy just looked at her. With similar announcements, she stripped off the warm sweater and the sweat shirt. "Ta da, da, DA!" she stripped off her bra and dropped it on the pile of clothes on the chair. It immediately slipped to the floor, but you couldn't have everything.

Andy managed to close his mouth. She caught his hands as he came towards her. She pulled them up around her neck -- it was a little struggle, they tried to go lower on her body. She lifted her face for a kiss. This much, at least, he was willing to cooperate in, but it was a little bristly around the edges. During the kiss, she unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans. When she pushed the jeans and underwear down, he gasped. She knelt.

He was already erect. The taste was a little more bitter than she'd expected, but she went on. When he was as far into her mouth as she could get him without choking, she put her right hand around the base of his cock while her left felt for his ball sack. He was breathing hard, and he put one hand on her head.

"You don't have to do this," he said without pushing her away. Yes, she did, even though the taste was getting more and more bitter. She drew back with her lips tight around his shaft. She licked all around the head and pressed forwards until he started her gag reflex. The second time she licked a circle around his head, he shouted, "Marilyn." His come was salty rather than bitter, but it wasn't anything you'd want to taste.

As soon as he was done, she ran to the bathroom and spit it into the sink. As she rushed past him into the kitchen for a glass, he was still struggling to get his belt buckled. She spent some time in the bathroom rinsing out her mouth.

"You don't taste all that good, you know," she said.

"Sorry about that. Next month I won't force you like I did this one."

"Okay, it was my idea. I wasn't saying it wasn't. It's just that you don't taste as good as I'd expected." Actually, he hadn't tasted at all pleasant. On the other hand, she'd wanted that experience. She'd had that experience. She would take a pass next time.

Aside from the taste, it had been fun to take him by surprise. And his last remark had been healthy, too. Last year at this time, his apology would have been real, not sarcastic. Even though it was her decision, he would have said that he was sorry, like he'd said about the thunderstorm. She could remember worrying that he was taking her for granted. Well, now he actually was, at least a little. She'd moved enough clothes into his closet that he realized that he would see her next time, just like he said. And, still, without the fear in his voice, he was a nice guy. Wait a minute; he hadn't said "next time."

"Next month?" He must know it was her period.

"Look, Marilyn, I'm Andy, your Andy. I'm the guy who learns thing by reading. I don't claim to know what menstruation feels like to you. But some things, like every four weeks, some things I know about."

"For how long?"

"Well, remember when you used nylons instead of pantyhose? One date, you went back to pantyhose. I was desperate, wondering what I'd done. Then, when you wore nylons again, I figured out why."

"And you never said anything?"

"Well, you didn't say anything. It seemed to me that it was your choice -- your body, your choice."

"You wouldn't have wanted to touch me there when it was like that."

"Now, you're putting words in my mouth. If you don't want to be touched now, I'll understand. After all, it's only one week in four, and it's not like you're refusing me and accepting other guys. But that's your decision. I always want to touch you. I love you -- not sometimes but all the time."

"Andy, you are weird."

"Well, yes.... But loving you isn't the weirdness. Now that we're no longer avoiding the subject, can you stay the night? You have church dresses in the closet." Yeah, she'd practically moved in. She had almost all of what she'd need. There were two exceptions. Well, the Pill wasn't critical. Sunday's pill was a placebo; she wouldn't lose anything by taking it late. She would really not lose anything, for that matter, by not taking it at all. But...

"I don't have Tampax." The one in her purse was for emergencies, not to take her through nearly 20 hours.

"Want me to go out and buy some?"

"Andy, you aren't going to buy Tampax." She was shocked, although Dad had picked some up on a shopping trip. Even that had been a single occasion, though. "I'll get it."

"I'll walk you to the store." And he put on his coat. When they got back, he sorted out the laundry which was on his bed. He'd done some of hers that she'd left, and she put it away. Not having much to do up, they went to bed early. Still, his knowing about it was one thing; his touching her there when a string was hanging down from her Tampax was quite different. He hugged her above the waist except for his hard on, which pressed into her thigh.

Logic insisted that sleeping by yourself was more restful than sleeping with another -- especially more restful than sleeping in a too-small bed with a horny man. Somehow, though, she always woke from sleeping with Andy feeling very rested. Even this night, without any sex, was restful. Being wrapped in Andy's arm was also warmer than her bed in the house got. Even her head was warmed by his breath.

With the weather so wet, her tennis shoes didn't attract any comments at church. She rode directly back to the sorority from church leaving the jeans and stuff in the apartment. After chapter meeting, Janice and Karen were both in the room, and she still had a little homework to do. She went to the study room until fairly late.

When she was too tired for more study but not really sleepy, she went to bed. She tried to figure out Andy. His acceptance of her periods wasn't all that strange, really. It had been her embarrassment, more than anything else, and -- really -- her continuance of an early avoidance. She had good reason not to tell an occasional date about her periods freshman year, and she had never had a particular reason to change that behavior. Plenty of married couples slept in the same bed; her own parents slept in the same room. Andy's willingness -- eagerness -- to sleep with her during her period wasn't too far from the norm.

But, as Andy had admitted, he was weird in other ways.

She thought of what she'd seen of Andy's life in the apartment. Her original picture had been that he'd live there and she'd visit to make love. Well, she was living here, not there, but nothing else quite fit the picture. She'd moved in more than she had expected. Each step was only practical: Why return here Saturday night when he was going to pick her up Sunday morning? That meant she needed clothes there fit for church, and such conveniences as a toothbrush and a hair dryer. She'd moved in her possessions, if not herself.

Andy, on the other hand, was certainly not living anywhere else -- but he was camping out in the apartment, not living there. She needed to teach him what it meant to live in a place. Which might lead to her living there more than she had intended. Well, she'd enjoyed cooking for him in her own home. She should have foreseen that she would enjoy cooking for him down here, although that pleasure had been a surprise.

Aside from the social necessity of a boyfriend or -- at least -- a date, aside from the physical pleasure they produced -- and Andy was only the second boy who could provide her greater physical pleasure than she could provide herself -- boys gave one more satisfaction that girls talked about. They were predators, barbarians, and girls boasted of keeping them under control. They never said, "Joe will keep his hands out of my panties if I tell him to," but they often said, "Joe wanted to feel me under the panties," implying that she didn't let him -- that she had him under control. Andy had never really given her that satisfaction; he'd always been more controlled than she'd wanted. He could go wild, but only at the end. Her pride was more in driving him wild than constraining him.

Well, now she'd found out the way Andy was wild or, at least, feral. In civilized households, even the dogs and cats had their meals dished out of the can into bowls before they ate them. Andy seemed to eat directly out of the can. He ate, not salads, but slabs of lettuce or cabbage. There was nothing wrong with cold cereal for breakfast -- she'd had it often herself -- but there was something wrong with thinking it the only possible breakfast, and without toast.

If they were going to marry, and she seemed to condition every thought of her after-college future with that phrase, he'd have to learn better. It wasn't as though he'd been raised in a barn. She'd been in his home for studying and three meals. Even pizza was served on a plate.

This was the first time she'd walked into the apartment when it wasn't neat, though. The guy even made his bed before breakfast. (Did Pete know how to make a bed? Well, she was pretty sure that Pete knew how to make a camp bunk.) It wasn't that Andy lived feral, it was that he lived feral in some ways. He could learn, and he was willing to learn from her.

Maybe, she thought as she dropped off to sleep, she should give him a list. The thought didn't recur in the next week. What little time she had for thought was consumed in planning for pledges and in class work. This wasn't hell week, but the week was full of squeezing the pledges, and -- somehow -- she was involved in more than her fair share of those activities. Saturday, she brought her books with her to Andy's.

"It's not fair, I know," she said after they'd made love. "But I'm behind in three of my classes. Tomorrow, I'll catch up in one, but I've brought the books for the others with me."

"Well, we are in school, after all. We'll study together -- different subjects but across from each other."

"I haven't even planned out the dinner."

"Want me to open a can?"

"I won't go that far. I'll cook, but I'll cook from your cans. What did you eat last?"

"Beef stew. Why?"

"So I don't cook it."

"Why not. It's really one that needs heating. The others don't. Besides it and the baked beans come in the largest cans. Having you here to eat one makes sense."

"Andy, you can't eat the same thing two nights in a row."

"Why not? Not that I do it all that often. Like I said, only baked beans and beef stew. Usually I start a can at lunchtime and finish it for dinner, or vice versa." She'd said 'two nights in a row,' and he'd taken her literally. He didn't eat the same thing two nights in a row; he ate the same thing two meals in a row. This was a guy she'd decided to civilize? She remembered her earlier resolution, but put it aside to cook the ravioli. She still marveled at his weirdness while she put on her panties, robe, and apron.

Some of the frozen asparagus she'd bought was still in the freezer. She'd already discovered that he ate no vegetable but peas on his own initiative. There was a new head of lettuce in the refrigerator along with an almost-dead head of cabbage. Andy alternated those purchases. Tomatoes and cucumbers were only added when she took him shopping and then used them in the salad. She tore up some lettuce, heated up the ravioli, washed out the saucepan, and cooked the asparagus in it. Andy was watching her all the while, but she'd become used to that. You'd think the man was studying how to prepare a meal in civilized fashion, but he claimed that it was only that he liked watching her.

After dinner, they did study for hours across from each other at the table. Occasionally, she'd look up and see Andy staring at her, but even more often she'd look up and see Andy reading his book.

"Ten o'clock," he said suddenly. "Do you need more study time?" Yeah, but. She needed twelve hours more studying, but she wasn't capable of much more. There was the education course work at the house which needed her to be fresh -- or at least awake -- tomorrow, and there was that bed not far away attracting her with more possibilities than simply sleep.

"Want to call it a night?" she asked.

"Let's." And, so, they started for bed. She took her bathroom time first. The idea of giving her "her shelf" in the medicine cabinet had seemed more suggestive from Andy than practical. Now, her shelf was crowded. Taking her makeup back and forth hadn't been very practical.

When Andy came to bed, they kissed for a while. His hands were cold, but so were the sheets. As everything warmed up, he began stroking her back. Soon, she lay back, and he ducked his head under the covers. He kissed her right tit while stroking her left one. She was warm by the time he raised his head up for another kiss. He stroked down between her thighs. He varied his kisses but stroked her clit as regularly as a metronome. She felt her tension rise. When she was near her climax, Andy pulled his head back.

"Marilyn!" he said as the lightning struck. The convulsions took her attention inward, but as she relaxed she saw him still looking at her. "I love you," he said as his finger started moving again.

She stiffened as her climax neared, but he didn't make any move to join her. She wanted him with her. She reached for him. He evaded her hand but started to climb over her legs.

"Okay." He got himself into position, his body's motion interrupting his finger's motion. "Open yourself." When she did, she could feel him entering her slightly. "Oh, Marilyn." He moved over her and slid into her -- spreading her, filling her. He kissed her forehead before starting his motion in and out. "Love you."

"Love you," she replied. Her tension, which had lowered when his finger left her clit, rose with the steady rhythm of his motion deep inside her. His face was an arm's length above hers, and the covers were slipping down his back. She pulled them up, tucked them securely around his shoulders, and closed them so that there was only a narrow gap running from his body to hers.

Framed by that gap, she saw his cock almost leave her, and then it drove down into her pussy again. That sight was so sexy! When he'd risen to his full withdrawal again, she curled herself up to meet him so she could see more of the motion. As she was sinking down with him embedded in her, the lightning struck. She could feel his cock move out as she clasped around it.

"Oh, my love," he said. He repeated this on every stroke as he moved in and out through her rhythmic clasp. "Oh," he said at the end, as he pounded into her and pulled her down into that thrust by her shoulders. She could feel him pulse deep inside her last, waning flutters around him.

Then, he was heavy on her, but she wanted that weight. It expressed their love. By the time he moved over, though, she welcomed the freedom to breathe freely. He was careful of the blankets, and she felt only the briefest intrusion of cool air. He reached up to the headboard to turn off the light. He moved a little further away.

"Want to lie in my arms?" Wanting to, she rolled to her left and then backed into him. He tucked the blanket over them both, and she drifted off to sleep thinking that lying in his arms had been nice last week, but lying in his arms after sex was definitely nicer.

She was still lying in his arms when his alarm went off. They made their preparations in the bathroom and returned to bed. There, they made slow, sleepy love before sharing a shower. Almost dressed, she made him eggs for breakfast. He ran the toaster, which sat on the table outside the kitchen.

"I like your breakfasts better than mine."

"Well, I enjoy cooking for you.... Andy, do you think I do a lot for you?"

"Yeah!" He was grinning, or -- more accurately -- leering. Well, what she did with him maybe deserved a leer. What she did for him didn't.

"Do you think you would do something for me?"

"Sure."

"Not so fast. Remember your warning me to ask what the favor was before agreeing to your father's request."

"Good advice, although I don't remember giving it. But that is Dad. I love you, and -- as important for agreeing to something unseen -- I think you love me, too." This was beside the point, but was too important to pass up.

"You think your Dad doesn't love you?"

"Not in that... Actually, while I love you -- and I think you love me -- in quite a different way, this trust I spoke about is really based on wanting what is best for the other. Dad wants, if not what is best for me, what he thinks is best for me.... Still, bargaining with Dad is fun. I'm not sure I'd enjoy that sort of tussle with you."

"Well, I don't have anything to bargain with. I'll sleep with you whether or not you agree." And, of course, sleeping with him as a reward sounded too much like prostitution.

"That's nice to hear." Which might mean he'd give her what she asked, and might mean he'd enjoy not giving her what she asked.

"Next time," Then she thought of being behind in schoolwork. "Maybe time after next, I'll bring a little list. When you've read it, you'll tell me whether you'll go along with me. Okay?"

"Sure." They went off to church. Afterwards, she led the pledge class in serenading the actives during Sunday dinner. They could have sounded better, but nobody complained. The meeting dealt with two routine matters, and she got to study most of the afternoon and evening. She would, at least, be prepared for Monday.

Monday, the pledges were kept in the study room after dinner. Laura had persuaded Natalie that this would maintain discipline while having them likelier to pass their subjects. She sat with them doing her own study. That earned her a little credit in the unwritten-but-real "dealing with pledges" account each active kept in her head. It also caught her nearly up on school work. Tuesday, she took a break from schoolwork to make a list for Andy.

As long as Marilyn shares the apartment with Andy part of the time, Andy will follow these rules in the apartment all the time:
Every meal is eaten off plates. The plates are washed rather than used for another meal.

So is any silverware used washed after use.

Lunch and dinner each require a vegetable and a salad.

Salads are placed on a separate plate.

Main dishes are heated in the pan -- or cooked some other way -- and served in a serving dish.

You sit at the table to eat any meal in the apartment.

She thought that covered it. If not, it would be an improvement. She really didn't want Prince Albert; it's just that she didn't want Conan the Barbarian, either.

She went back to her schoolwork. On a later break, she typed the list up. Then she folded it and put it in the envelope with her Pill dispenser. One thing she'd never figured out how to move into Andy's was the Pill dispenser. It sat in her dresser drawer six mornings a week, but she had it in her purse from Saturday afternoon until Sunday afternoon. She was at Andy's for most of that time, but she did carry her purse to church. She could just imagine dropping the purse and the dispenser falling out. Well, she'd never spilled the contents of this purse, and she'd had it for years. Spilling it in church was extremely unlikely, but she kept the dispenser in the envelope when it was in her purse, nevertheless. She'd be sure to notice the list Sunday morning if not before.

She took one book with her Saturday, but she was determined to cook Andy a nice meal before cracking it. They shopped, as usual, on their way to the apartment. Before lovemaking, she put all the food away. It wouldn't really be that long, but she didn't want to be sloppy when about to ask Andy to be neat.

The meal was pork chops and home-fries, and she did it well. Andy's praise was so dependable that she had stopped using it to judge, but her own taste buds told her that it was a success. Andy cleared and took the dishes to the sink. She got her list from her purse.

"Remember when I said I might have a list of things I'd ask from you?"

"Yeah."

"Well, here's the list." She handed it to him.

"Okay." He read the list. "Wash dishes after every meal?"

"No. I tried to be careful to not say that. You rinse them off and leave them in the sink. Every day, maybe every other day for a single person, you wash them. Leaving the dishes to pile up in the sink until you run out of dishes is considered slovenly, but, with the number of dishes you have, it wouldn't be all that slovenly."

"Okay."

"What does that mean?"

"I'll try to keep all these rules."

"No argument? No bargaining?"

"No. One of the things I want is to keep you happy. Two things, really. I want your happiness, and I want you to be happy to be around me. I figure that this will contribute to both, and it doesn't look all that hard." Some days, Andy was hard to figure. Well, she'd wanted to civilize him, and he was willing to act civilized to please her. If his statements sounded like the civilization would be skin deep, he was being honest.

They got out the books and each of them studied. It had been more fun when they had courses together, but this night would end better than those sessions had.

And, between Saturday night studying across from Andy and Sunday evening studying in the sorority, she got her current work caught up. Monday, she started blocking out her Education paper.

That night, she got a call from Andy.

"Love you," he started.

"Likewise." There were plenty of ears that could hear her. It wasn't as if she was afraid of saying that she loved him within hearing of her sisters. They knew where she spent Saturday nights, for God's sake. It just seemed a weird way of starting a phone conversation.

"This Saturday is a home game. Are we going?" That wasn't the best way to make an invitation, but he was being realistic about their relationship.

"Why Andy, I'd love to. Thank you very much." There were still ears around her. Besides, maybe he'd take the hint. Then she got practical. "Give rides to a few others?"

"Sure." They talked for a few more minutes although they had no other business. There was a rule about tying up the phone, though.

"Love you," she ended the conversation, "but I've got to run."

"Love you, too." She planned out the Saturday. Making out in the sight of thousands had been fun, but it would be childish when they'd end the day in bed; she'd wear a bra and sit next to him. Studying might be a good idea; she'd bring her Teaching English book.

Taking three pledges to the game had an odd feel to it. She was not only a couple with Andy, they were like parents to three teenagers. She'd skipped the wedding and the honeymoon. Well, she'd skipped toilet training, too, and maybe they'd be having the honeymoon that night.

And, after Andy drove the girls back to the house, they did have their honeymoon. Andy had bought a full-length mirror and mounted it on the closet door. The apartment being warm for once, he brought her to that mirror when they'd stripped each other.

"Look how beautiful you are." She wasn't beautiful, but he petted and kissed and stroked her until she felt beautiful. Watching his hands stroke her was even sexier than feeling them in the dark car had been. She saw her nipples harden; she saw herself blush at what his handsd were doing and what her eyes were seeing. She'd seen her mound in the mirror many times. It was a neat, fur-covered patch with a tiny cleft just at the bottom. When his finger parted those lips, the fur parted, the cleft grew and she could see the lips on each side of his finger.

As he stroked her there, standing began to require too much attention. she sank back against him, and he moved her to the right before supporting her. She could see his cock peeking out at the mirror at the side of her waist. As she felt herself tense, she could see it in the mirror.

He held her when the lighning struck. She wasn't beautiful at all, scowling, her body wriggling in his arms. Her arms flailing. The sight, if not pretty, was arousing as hell.

Afterwards, when she sagged against his back, he carried her to bed and kissed her everywhere.

When she knew that lightning was about to strike a second time, she pulled him up until he entered her. As he filled her, she convulsed. She felt his firmness within her grip, and then his pulsing in her depths. Afterwards, he cuddled her and kissed the back of her head. That was delightful, but soon her conscience reminded her that she had studying to do.

After two hours of studying, she made dinner. When she went back to her book after dinner, he got out some library books. Andy wasn't about to interfere with her studying, though she caught him looking at her some times. When she finally closed the book, though, he stopped his own studying. He was undressed by the time she came out of the bathroom, and he joined her in bed only minutes later.

The man was insatiable, wanting sex a second time that night and in the morning, too. She enjoyed the action, of course. Maybe she was hypocritical to blame him for wanting what she enjoyed, but he was the instigator each time. Sunday morning, they showered together. Then they went to church.

The next football game was during her period. She told him to let her off with the pledges. He called later that afternoon.

"You know, you could still sleep in my arms. We don't have to have sex."

"I don't think so, Andy." True, he would always take no for an answer, but she didn't want to see his desire when she was opposed to satisfying it. And it wasn't just seeing; lying in his arms without having sex meant his erection jutting against her ass all night.

"I don't want to talk about this any more." She was at the phone in the hall with ears all around her.

"Shall I pick you up for church?"

"That would be nice. 10:45?" And he came by at 10:45.

That set their pattern for nearly the rest of the semester. She was with him from after lunch Saturday to noon on Sunday three weeks out of four. The other sisters knew she wasn't available then; what they would never have believed was that she got a fair amount of studying done in those evenings.

When Hell Week was in the offing, she warned him. She'd have to deal with the pledges during the Saturdays at either end. He didn't argue or plead for her to dodge her responsibilities, but he did look awfully dejected. She didn't even wanting him calling during that time.

He called on the last night before that ban went into effect. He sounded quite unhappy.

"I'm not leaving you, you know."

"You have left me," he replied. "Promise that you'll come back."

"I'll come back." He wasn't being realistic. She loved him, loved how he could make her feel. He might not know her emotions, but her clothes were also in the closet.

Even though the actives outnumbered the pledges and often one or two sisters could deal with the entire pledge class, Hell Week was hard on the actives as well. They got through it, though, and the pledges did too. Despite her study deficit, Marilyn took care of her sleep deficit first. After the chapter meeting Sunday, she slept until the supper hour. She called Andy after supper.

"Want to pick me up after class on Monday?" The weather had been nasty, and there was slush all over the sidewalks.

"When do you get out?"

"Five o'clock. It's a late one. Clark Hall." He was there. Being Andy, he was waiting at the door to walk her to the car when she came down the stairs.

"Mind stopping by the house for a few minutes?" She asked after they'd got in the car and shared a kiss. "I want to change over to tomorrow's books. Then we'll pick up the groceries." She hadn't done any studying for her Tuesday classes. He let her out in front, but he was waiting inside when she came back down with the right books. They had a brief kiss before she took the last two steps down.

"Would you consider a change of plans?" he asked as they were walking to the car. "This is something to celebrate. Would you be willing to go out to a restaurant?"

"Don't you like my cooking?"

"You're cooking is delightful for me. Maybe it's more work than celebration for you." Spontaneous as he tried to make the invitation sound, Andy had scouted out the restaurant. The meal was lovely.

When they'd taken off their coats back at the apartment, they continued with their other clothes. It was chilly, and she got into bed immediately. He followed right after.

"Oh, Marilyn," he said after the first kiss, "you did come back." Then he kissed all over her face. He continued down her body to her thighs. After kissing between them until she was quite excited, he began licking between those lips. Lightning struck.

When she relaxed, he began kissing her thighs again. When he continued after her second climax, she grabbed his shoulders and tugged upwards.

"Oh love," he said as he began to enter her. He stared into her eyes as he slowly, firmly, inexorably, filled her. He paused for a second buried in her to kiss her forehead. Then he said "oh love" again and began stroking in and out. As his strokes quickened, she matched him. Finally, he pressed deeply into her and throbbed. His climax brought on her third.

He was still looking into her eyes as she recovered. With him above her, pressed against her stomach, hugging her arms with his and with his legs hugged by hers, occupying her, she was finally warm.

When he got off, he lay on his side and pulled her back against him. He hugged her tight and kissed the top of her head.

"You came back," he murmured between kisses.

"Andy, I'll always come back to you." After all, she'd been deprived as long as he had. Her dresses were in the closet and her other clothes were in the dresser. She felt him go stiff. He didn't let go, but the comfort was gone. What had she said?

"Always?..." he said after a damned awkward pause. He hadn't relaxed a bit.

"That wouldn't be fair to you," he said a while later. What had she said? She'd heard of guys being afraid of commitment, but that had been her commitment. It was what he'd asked of her. And what wouldn't be fair? be fair to her? There was a bit more awkward silence before he spoke again.

"Look, do you ever think about after graduation?" No more than three times a minute. "You're going to be a teacher, sure, but do you ever think whether there will be an us after graduation?" Good question. Two questions, really, and the important one was inthe subordinate clause.

"Well, what do you think?" If he was going to freeze over a bit of commitment, he could damn-well express the commitment.

"There's no question about me." Well, there was a question in her mind about him, even though he was relaxing a tiny bit.

"If you can ask the question, you can answer it. That's only fair."

"I want as much of you as I can get," he said, then paused. "As long as you let me." Now, there was an interesting statement. What did it mean? But it didn't sound like he was scared of commitment. Having said it, he even relaxed. She turned over, though it put her face almost against his.

"Is this a proposal?" If so, it was a damned awkward one. But whatever he was trying to say now, it was awkward.

"It's not fair for me to propose when I can't support you." Well, she hadn't decided what she would say to a proposal anyway. She wasn't the sort of girl her mother wanted her to be, one who wouldn't sleep with a man unless marriage were involved. She suspected that girls who wouldn't sleep with a man until after marriage were before even mom's generation. Was she a girl, though, who would sleep with a man and then refuse him marriage? Anyway, supporting her sounded more chauvinistic than Andy usually did.

"Well, I'm going to be a teacher, as you said. I'll be able to support my own self."

"Yeah, but only after graduation. We can't get married if we can't pay rent." He had a point there. She might never be Andy's dependent, but she was damn-well her parents' dependent right now. She thought of a married couple as free-standing, maybe not a strongly as Andy did. "But do you mind if I think about it?" Now that was a different question.

"Do you?" He'd said, nearly a year ago, that he wanted to marry her. The statement had embarrassed him, and she'd pretended to forget it.

"Maybe dream about it is a better term. Do you mind?" Why should she mind?

"No. And I'll think about it, too." That wasn't really a lie. Nothing she'd said implied that she hadn't been thinking about it before.

"You will?" He sounded happy. He kissed her, first with his lips closed. When they'd had a long deep kiss, he kissed all over her face. Then he hugged her. They were pressed against each other, but he didn't make any more sexual move. When his hand did move, it was along her back from her shoulder to her seat. Her head was out in the cool room, but her body was warmed by the blanket and by him. He warmed her and he loved her. She, she decided, had missed this. She was important in Zeta, and many there liked her, but nobody there loved her the way Andy did. The room was warmer at Zeta House, but the bed wasn't as warm.

Had she thought him insatiable? He kissed her and hugged her and stroked her back, but he didn't shift to the more directly sexual activities. Finally, she had to reach down and take him in her hand. As he stiffened, she shoved his arm out of her way and rolled on her back. She spread her legs and led him between. She placed him at her entry.

"Oh, Marilyn," he said as he slowly thrust into her. He kissed her forehead when he had filled her. She put her arms around his waist and pulled him into her on every stroke. He was still taking slow strokes when lightning struck again.

"Darling." he said. "Lovely Marilyn." But he missed only one beat in his strokes. As she relaxed under him, he filled her again and again. Her arousal rose again as he moved deeply within her. She was throwing her hips upward against his when he grabbed her shoulders and thrust more deeply than ever. His throbbing cock buried in her took her to her own release.

"I love you," he said later as he rolled them over.

"And I love you," she said as she reached to bring the covers to protect her back from the chill of the room. And she did love him, but she remembered that she still had homework to do for the next day. And, after she'd recovered her strength, she got out of bed, dressed again, and hauled out the books.

He studied across from her until she was couldn't keep her eyes open. He was insatiable, wanting another session that night and one in the morning. She had to deny him the morning sex.

"We're heading for early classes. Control yourself, can't you." They did share a shower before she got ready to cook their breakfast. There weren't any ingredients since they hadn't been to the store the night before. "Don't you have any eggs?"

"Sorry. They weren't going to see a cook for two weeks, so I hard boiled them and took them for between-class snacks. I have cereal." So they ate cereal. They both had nine o'clock classes, in buildings far apart. So he let her off a few minutes early. She took those minutes to review her work from the night before, and to think about their new status.

One reason she resisted morning sex was she suspected that it might affect her class participation. She wasn't obsessive about being on top of class, but some of her classmates might guess the reason. She was obsessive about their gossip.

She was behind in everything. That afternoon and evening she studied for as long as she could. Despite the excitement of the new full members, everyone else had the same problem. The study room was rather full, and anyone who took a break left the room. When Marilyn's head seemed too full to continue, she went up to bed.

"Spending a lot of time with Andy?" Janice asked when she got in the room.

"Well, we didn't see each other, didn't even talk on the phone, both sides of Hell Week."

"And you were the one who spoke so strongly about keeping up your grades."

"I'm going to be a teacher. I need to learn something to do that, and I'll need to have a transcript to satisfy some school board. I'm not going for an M-R-S degree. You would be surprised how much studying I can get done at Andy's."

"Right. You go there Saturday afternoon to study. Then he drives you back for Sunday dinner."

"I didn't say that studying was all I did. It's one of the things I do. He likes to watch me study, but usually he studies too. The guy spends a lot of time on his books. He's been on the dean's list regularly, for heaven's sake."

"Sounds like an exciting date."

"Well, we go to dances and football games, too. The real exciting parts are none of your business."

"I don't know. If I were spending that much time in a guy's bed, I'd be working on the M-R-S degree."

"Well, if I wanted to sell it, I could charge a gold ring. I'm not the sort of girl who sells it."

"Does giving it away make you better."

"Prude! We share our pleasure."

"And making it permanent would decrease the pleasure?"

"Not at all. But marriage is more than sex. Do you think I should marry him?"

"You should marry somebody. A coed can have a love affair. I think a schoolteacher would lose her job. Andy? Make a list. He's smart. You two would have smart kids, smart middle-sized kids. He's kind. On the other side, he'd bore me to tears. You thinking of marrying him?"

"Thinking about marrying him. I'm not at the point of making a decision." Then Marilyn left the room for her bathroom time. When she got back Janice looked asleep; she certainly was silent. The questions she had raised, though, stayed in Marilyn's head. Did she want to marry the guy? She'd been fairly judgmental about girls who turned down sex unless marriage was involved. A few, it is true, were looking for a husband who'd provide certain things to them -- any husband who would provide that would be acceptable. The only difference between them and a streetwalker was the price. Most girls, though, were looking at a certain man. They might not put out without a wedding in the offing, but they weren't available to the next bidder.

Her problem was almost the opposite. She was having sex with Andy, and enjoying it greatly. She wasn't a girl who would only screw a man who would marry her. Was she a girl who would screw a man she wouldn't marry? Really, she loved Andy. Did she love him a whole life's worth?

Andy had problems. Janice was wrong; he wasn't boring. He was, however, somebody you had to watch. When you knew everybody would behave some way, you had to check that Andy would, too. That wouldn't bore her. It might, in time, worry her or embarrass her. On the other hand, Andy liked to learn things. He might turn into a more interesting person than the average man. Really, he already was.

As a matter of fact, Janice's list didn't include the crucial points. Andy would make her a fine husband. She wasn't particularly ambitious for wealth, but she'd grown up in comfortable circumstances and wanted to spend the rest of her life in comfortable circumstances. Andy would earn enough to assure that. He wasn't CEO material; people who understood things worked for people who understood people. But he'd make enough to buy food and housing of the sort she liked. For all her talk of supporting herself, teaching looked better as a vocation than as a career.

He wouldn't abuse her, not even verbally. Lots of her sisters' boyfriends talked to them in front of her in terms Andy would never use to her in private.

He wouldn't cheat on her. In the first place, Andy behaved as if he wanted her, not as if he wanted sex and figured that she was available. In the second place, Andy was totally immune to subtle hints. The vamp who wanted to steal him from her would have to be totally explicit in her invitation, and Marilyn could ensure that few had that opportunity.

Then, too, Andy was sexually generous. She thought back to the previous night. Andy had gone for her climaxes before worrying about his own. She fell asleep reliving those sexual activities.

After dinner Wednesday, she called him.

"Andy?"

"I love you."

"Likewise, but you're wasting the sentiment."

"Huh?"

"How'd you like to pick me up after dinner tomorrow?" She loved cooking for him, but she was behind in her studies. Once a week was quite enough. And she didn't really trust his cooking. Besides, the house menu was better than his canned stuff.

"You're right. I love you more now. Y'know, you could make a list."

"Huh?"

"A shopping list. I'm used to shopping from a list. Make one, and I could get the breakfast things you want."

"Well, I don't have a list, but check that you have bacon, eggs, and butter on hand. And bread." He was eating and buying bread now, but she wasn't certain he was using the toaster when she wasn't there.

Before supper, she packed a shopping bag with her books for Friday in the bottom. On top, she put a pair of jeans and several tops. She already had couple of church-suitable dresses and a full assortment of underwear in his apartment. She was really moving in. On the other hand, she didn't want to wear the same top to classes for two successive days.

After supper, she stayed downstairs talking to Natalie, Beverly, and Joyce, Beverly's new Little Sister. The line was a good one. At least she, Natalie, and Beverly were still friends. That didn't always happen. When Andy came in, she went to get her coat and the shopping bag from the downstairs closet while Beverly introduced Joyce to Andy.

"You guys have a date?" Joyce asked when Andy took the shopping bag from her.

"Study date, I'm afraid. Hell week may not be as rough on us, but the actives still fall behind in their courses."

"Marilyn and Andy are demons on studying," Natalie said. "They often study together all night." Andy blushed beet red, which may have been what Natalie had intended.

"Now, Joyce," Marilyn warned, "don't follow Nat's bad example. Proper Zates only gossip about couples after they've left." The three women joined her in laughing. The best Andy could produce was a forced smile.

"You're a prude sometimes," she said when they were both in the car. She forgave him, though, and kissed his ear to show the forgiveness.

"Do they know everything we do? All of them?"

"Maybe not everything, but if I stay out all night the sorority knows it. And what they don't know, they'll imagine. Probably they imagine more than we do, or could do." What they almost certainly didn't imagine was the amount of time she and Andy actually spent studying.

"What's in the bag?" he asked after the car was on the way.

"Books and some clothes. I have Sunday stuff in your apartment, but nothing I can wear to class."

"If you need more room, just tell me."

"You'd really like it if I moved in completely, wouldn't you?"

"Don't tease me with the thought. You know I would, but I understand how important the sorority is to you." Which reminded her.

"What do you think of Joyce?"

"She seemed a nice girl. Your Grand Little Sister? Am I right?"

On a stretch break half-way though the studying that night, she realized how close to being married they were. They went out sometimes, football and dances. They were together, though, whether they went out or not. They'd had sex and then started on their work. Her parents might do the work first, but they did what had to be done and then went to bed together. She and Andy were missing the wedding and those vows, the every-night sense, and the shared budget.

So, maybe, the question of whether she wanted a marriage with Andy was the question of whether she wanted this to go on. It was strange. She'd always assumed that she'd get married someday. Marriage to somebody other than Andy, some vague other man, looked less and less attractive. But she was still hesitating over marriage to Andy. Part of it was that she now saw marriage more clearly, and the problems were getting clearer. On the other hand, she wasn't built to be a spinster. She used the bathroom, splashed some water on her face, and returned to her work.

When she got to the house after class on Friday, Joyce looked like she wanted to talk about something specific, but they spoke about the weather and how far behind Joyce was in classes before she brought it up.

"Look, you really spend the night with that guy?"

"Andy?" Joyce should remember his name, she'd probably need a ride before the year was over. "Sure. But, look, before you decide to copy the precedent, Andy and I'd been dating for more than a year -- three and a half semesters and the summer in between -- before I had sex with him. I'm not saying you should wait that long, but don't say 'Marilyn does it; so it's okay' before you follow everything I did. Hadn't you known? I thought everybody in the house knew about my Saturdays."

"No. I don't know what the rules are."

"There are too many sets of rules. Your mother told you 'not outside of marriage.' And that's a good rule."

"Not for you, apparently."

"It's a good rule, nevertheless. Make that your rule, and -- sometime -- you'll run into a reason for the exceptions. It's a great reason to give the boy, too. If you care for the boy at all, you don't want to say that you do but not with him. That goes for anything else, too."

"Is that how you were with Andy?"

"Generally speaking, Andy moved slowly enough that I didn't need to say no to him very often. Not all guys are like Andy. For that matter, not all girls are like Joyce."

"Thanks. I just don't know how far college girls go. We had rules in my high school."

"And, even then, some girls broke them?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I'll tell you my rules for everybody. If a guy takes you out on a date unless he was an utter pig, he deserves a kiss at the door when you come back. He doesn't deserve anything more. If you want more, want more with him, go for it. If you don't want it and he grabs, chop him off at the knees."

"Yeah, that's easy enough for you to say. You must never have waited at home for the phone to ring."

"Look, you're a Zate. Zates are special. You had all those dates with frat guys during your pledge period. You'll have more house dates the rest of the year, the rest of your college time. Dates aren't going to be the problem. Your problem will be to find the one guy among those dates who really turns you on, and who you turn on, too."

"I had a steady in high school."

"And he's not around any more? Join the club. The first time Andy asked me for a date, I had to turn him down because I was going steady with another guy. We decide, and then our judgment doesn't look so hot, or we grow into something different, or the guy does."

"When does it stop? When do you know you're not going to outgrow it?"

"Bingo. Give the girl a gold plated boomerang for asking the hot question. It would be solid gold if she had found the answer."

"I thought you had the answer."

"No. I'm just the girl whom the question bites hardest."