she had rolled her head from side to side, and a monkey chant came from her small, moving lips.
"I didn't know girls were different from boys," he had answered. He disrobed and put on the dress.
"I did," she had grinned. "Look, I bet you can't turn yours this way … see?" She had come beside him. "My brother put his inside me once … right in here."
"Gosh … didn't it hurt?"
"Naw …" She reached over and pulled up the dress. Gaylord didn't mind. "You wanta?" she asked. "Yours is bigger than Tim's."
"I don't think so … let's play."
And now she had become Jo and looked unhappy in a dress. She looked so much better in slacks. Why couldn't they have exchanged sex? Why? She stood out among a group of girls as much as he felt he did with a bunch of boys.
What a difference between Jo Sears and this gentle girl by his side. His gaze left Lois Sue, swept over the chattering, laughing students passing down the hall. He and Lois Sue moved on, but unlike the others they did not laugh with a wild abandoned air. Remembering her poem he told her again the lines were lovely and asked what she was going to call it.
"I don't know," she answered. "I won't know until it's finished. I can't seem to find a title until after my poems are finished."
"I guess you're right … guess a title comes afterwards …"
"Well, sometimes right in the middle of the night I think of one … I got one from a dream one time …"
"Which one was that?"
"The Mount."
"Oh, I remember that one … I liked it."
"Here's my room." She put out her free hand and he caught it. "It's been nice talking, Gay … and … thanks for the words of encouragement … they help me a lot … bye … Gay."
"Bye, Lois Sue … I meant every word … bye."
"Bye."
The students did not merely move along the school sidewalks, they swarmed. It was a river of bare feet, a rumble of skates, a rustle
