Crystal (Orphans 2)

"Maybe she can go with us, Karl?"

"You just heard her say Ashley invited her to dinner, Thelma. Let her get to know other children her age," Karl declared. "You want her to have friends, don't you?"

"Yes," she said in a small voice. Ever since her mother's death, she seemed to be even more withdrawn and afraid of real life. I thought if she could crawl right into the television set or into a book, she would.

"That's settled, then," Karl said.

Thelma started to eat again and then stopped. "You know what's on tonight, Crystal? Romance Theater, and it's a brand-new story," she said.

"I'm studying for my math test with Bernie Felder," I said. It wasn't a total lie. I expected Bernie and I were going to do some of that.

"Oh. Well," she said, thinking, "maybe I'll tape it for you to watch with me later this weekend, okay?"

"That would be nice," I said, and she looked satisfied.

Karl stared at me with troubled eyes. I avoided his gaze and finished my dinner. After helping Thelma with the dishes, I went to my room, gathered my books, and stuck our graphs into my notebook. Thelma was already involved in a television program. Karl was settled in his chair, reading the Wall Street Journal.

"Don't be too late," he called when I went to the front door.

"I won't." I took a deep breath and went out.

It was a clear evening, the stars looking somehow bigger, brighter. The street was quiet, but the shadows looked deeper and longer, and my heart filled my ears with a thumping so loud I didn't hear any cars go by. When I reached Bernie's front door, I felt as if I had floated to it. My finger trembled against the door button. I heard it ding inside, and moments later, Bernie opened it.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi." I stepped in, half expecting to see his mother, too, but as usual, his house was quiet.

"No one's home," he said quickly, and followed that with a conspiratorial smile. "Don't worry. We're not going to be interrupted."

"I thought we might study a little for the math test, too," I said.

"Sure, but it's going to be easy. Mr. Albert's first tests always are. He likes to give everyone

the feeling they can do well. False hope," he quipped as we walked to his room. As soon as we entered, he closed the door and then turned to me. "Did you bring the graphs back?"

"Yes," I said, taking them out of the notebook and handing them to him.

He gazed down at them as if he had forgotten what was written.

"Good," he said, and looked at me. "Are you ready?" I hesitated, and he looked worried. "You still want to go on with the experiment, don't you?"

"Sure, sure I do." I wanted to tell him how much I'd been thinking about our kisses, but I was afraid he wouldn't want to continue if I wasn't serious about the experiment.

I couldn't help but hope that for Bernie too, our experiment was more than just a scientific test.

Bernie's kiss started off sweet like the first time, but soon he became more insistent, forcing me to kiss him deeper and longer. These sorts of kisses made me nervous, but not in the good, special way I'd felt before. As Bernie pressed his lips and then his body against mine, I couldn't help but feel that he wanted to do more than just kiss.

Pushing him away, I took a step backward.

"Bernie, stop, we need to take breaks to write down our results." I hoped I sounded calm; inside I felt as if my heart would break from beating so quickly.

"Aw, come on, Crystal, it was just starting to get interesting." He stepped toward me and reached out to put his hands on my shoulder.

"Bernie, no, I'm not comfortable with this." I turned away and walked toward his desk. I grabbed my chart and started to write down my results, but my hands were shaking so badly I couldn't do much more than scrawl.

"Crystal, I don't understand. Did I do something wrong? Don't you want to continue with the experiment?" Bernie sounded hurt, and although I knew we had to stop this, I didn't want him to think I didn't like him.

"No, Bernie, it's nothing like that. It's just that . . . this is starting to feel like more than an experiment . . . and I don't think I'm ready for that." I hoped he would appreciate my honesty.