"No," she said, pulling back.
"Why not?" he asked, raising his voice.
"It doesn't happen like that. Nothing like that happens until she cries," Thelma said.
He pulled his hand out from under her blouse and held her hips.
"Okay, okay," he said. "I forgot."
"You're ruining it," she accused.
"I said I forgot."
"Start over," she commanded.
"What? Why?"
"You've got to start over," she insisted.
"That's silly, Thelma."
"Don't call me Thelma!" she exclaimed. "You're ruining it!"
"All right, all right. I'm sorry. I'll start over."
He turned from her, and I closed the door softly soneither of them would see me spying. My heart was pounding so hard, however, I was afraid they would hear the thumping in my chest. I listened.
Karl went down the hallway and closed a door. Then he opened it.
"Nevada," he called.
I opened my door again. Thelma was standing with her back to me now. She turned slowly, her face so different. She really looked as if she was on some sort of stage.
"Johnny Lee," she said, and wiped her cheeks. I could see she was crying real tears. "Please, please forgive me. Please, don't hate me."
"I don't hate you. I could never hate you, Nevada."
"I want to give myself to you," she repeated. "I want to give myself to you like I have never given myself to anyone, Johnny Lee."
"I know. I want you, too," Karl repeated his lines just as he'd said them before.
He stepped up to her, and they embraced but did not kiss. This time, he kept his hands on her hips. She started to cry, her whole body shaking. He embraced her and held her against his chest, kissing her hair, her cheeks, and then holding her head up softly so he could kiss her lips.
Then his hand returned to the bottom of her blouse and moved up over her breast again She moaned.
"Will it be different tonight, Johnny Lee? Will it be going to the moon and back?"
"Just like I promised," Karl said. He lowered his right arm around her waist, and they turned toward their bedroom. Thelma laid her head on his shoulder as they walked toward their room. I watched until they disappeared inside, the door closing softly behind them.
I didn't want to eavesdrop on them, but curiosity was like a magnet drawing me toward the wall between our two bedrooms. I put the tips of my fingers against it. Their voices were muffled, as were Thelma's sobs. I brought my ear to the wall and closed my eyes.
"Oh, Johnny Lee," she said. "Touch me everywhere this time. Do what you promised you would do. Make my body sing!'
"I will."
They were quiet, but I heard the distinct sound of the bedsprings. Her moans grew louder, longer. There was a combination of moans and cries that made me even more curious. Was lovemaking painful as well as pleasureful? Why wasn't he crying out, too?
Finally, after a long, loud cry, everything grew silent. I listened for a while longer and then retreated to my own bed. Was that the way it was supposed to be? I knew every scientific detail. I could describe the hormones, the movement of blood, even the nerve impulses, but the emotions were so confusing. Sex was one thing, but sex with love was supposed to be another.