Page:Jay Little - Maybe—Tomorrow.pdf/19

 As he listened, these words were engraved pitilessly on his mind, and yet the flow of his thoughts was not halted. We can double date … and I can get a date, he thought … I know girls too. Wanda would love to go with me. We can double date … yes, double date. His tense young face lightened. It was one thing to imagine the fact and another to be confronted by it. He was astonished to find his eyes dry. But his muddled-headedness was not affected by tears. He would not cry like he had done so many times.

He had come home from school determined to read all evening, had flung himself into a book but there were too many things interrupting his trend of thoughts. Try as he might the book was uninteresting, monotonous, and, feeling lonely, he had decided to go to the dance. What an idiot he had been not to have asked Wanda to accompany him. He had talked to her after school and she had hinted she didn't have a thing to do that evening. He was fond of her and liked to take her places. She wasn't too popular at dances … not as popular as some girls …

He found himself thinking of Thelma White. Yes, Thelma was popular. But he wouldn't take her if she were the last girl on this earth. He could see her smiling. He was reminded of devouring red lips and coiling snakes. The vision left him with a sick feeling in his stomach. He was reminded of a night long past but still vivid in his memory. He listened a moment to echoes of her voice that still rang in his mind, then shook his head as he realized he was hearing nothing.

Gaylord shuddered and passed his fingers over his eyes to brush away the panorama that had unfolded before him.

"I'm still going to this damn dance," he said with a determined air. "I don't care if Thelma will be there. I'll get to see Bob and maybe I'll get a chance to ask him about lunch tomorrow." He clenched his fists together and attempted a light-hearted laugh.

Gaylord finished his toilet in a daze of whirling thoughts about Joy and Bob Blake. He was not interested in the girl but he was mightily interested in making a good impression on Blake. He swore to himself that he would yet become the most correct, most admired, most warlike student at the auditorium. He screwed up his courage, and walked briskly toward the stairs. He pictured his parents in the 9