Page:Jay Little - Maybe—Tomorrow.pdf/241

 "Hello, Joy," he blushed, remembering that afternoon.

She walked past and sat at her desk … He wanted to say something nice to her but his throat felt tongue-tied.

Glenn Rogers appeared and broke the tenseness …

"Hi, Gay … Have a nice trip?"

"Sure did, Glenn."

"When did ya get back?"

"Last night."

Miss Grey tapped her pencil on the desk. "Glenn," she said, "you and Gaylord refrain from talking while in this room."

"Yes, ma'am," sputtered Glenn.

Gaylord was silent but some girl behind giggled. He was glad it wasn't Joy …

A sound of high heels tapped past the door only to be broken by the sudden clanging of the school bell. There was a mad scramble of books and legs. Gaylord looked at Joy as she passed, but she only smiled.

She's mad, he thought … and I don't blame her …

Glenn Rogers came up to him, his face beamed with joy and excitement.

"How was the trip? You got to tell me all about it."

Joy was forgotten as New Orleans came back into his mind … Gene Limbeaux's apartment … the large divan … the smoke filled air … the pasty faces … Claude's naked body … Paul's …

"Wonderful, Glenn … I had a wonderful time … I wish you could have been along."

"I wish I could have too."

They strolled down the corridor. Gaylord was saying … "I don't know where to begin."

"What did you do?"

Gaylord thought a moment. "Well, for one thing I went to a party … and what a party … It was mad." He wasn't sure if he had used the word correctly but he had heard someone at Gene's use the expression.

"Mad? Who was mad?"

"Everybody."

"Sounds goofy to me." 231