Demographic Heterogeneity

Alex and I walked back to the dorm hand in hand. We'd often done things together, gone to the show or taken a walk around campus, but this was our first outing that could have been considered a real date. She was so happy, swinging her arm, continuing the happy chatter from the snack bar. When we got back to the dorm I hesitated before unlocking the door.

"I kind of wish we lived in separate rooms," I said.

She looked at me quizzically.

"Because then I could give you a goodnight kiss."

She regarded me shyly, so I kissed her. My hands at my side, her hands at her side, I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers. She puckered back. It was the kind of chaste goodnight kiss that even her parents would not have frowned upon. The kind that didn't generate even an ounce of romantic momentum.

"I had so much fun tonight, didn't you?" she chattered on as I fiddled with the key. "Thanks for putting up with the lessons. I had such a good time."

She waltzed around our little space, but it was pretty clear that the romance she was re-living was all to do with the ballroom and the music and the swirling dancers, not any one partner in particular.

She needed help with her zipper. She hung her dress in her wardrobe. When she turned, in just her panties and bra, I guess I was kind of staring. She crossed her arms over her chest and gave me a chiding "just don't look" frown. Playfully, but seriously. I looked away as she finished putting on her pajamas.

---

I threw a little party for Alex on her birthday. We just had it in the room, with some of the people from the dorm and a few of her other friends. It was a relatively simple affair, but a happy one, and she seemed to enjoy it quite a bit.

I had gotten her an emergency flashlight and a bouquet of flowers. Most of the other gifts were likewise small or funny. But Stacey and Beverley gave her a beautifully wrapped box, all white ribbons and bows. When she opened it up the box said "Victoria's Secrets."

"It was the only box you could find, right?" Alex laughed. But inside the tissue paper was---I don't even know what you call it, a negligee I suppose. It was lacy and really pretty, not gaudily sexy, but quite sheer. I couldn't imagine her ever wearing it. I couldn't tell whether it had been intended as a gag gift or a real one.

"Try it on," said one of the boys. More laughter. Alex held it up in front of her and turned this way and that as if she were modeling it. It would have barely contained her breasts, and it came just a few inches below her waist, just barely below the crotch of her jeans. I couldn't tell if it was supposed to be worn as just a top, or as a whole nightgown without anything else. Either way it wouldn't have hidden much. Alex was blushing, but laughing along with everyone else.

It was a school night, and so people didn't stay too late. Alex hugged everyone affectionately as they were leaving. She gave everyone, boys and girls, a little kiss. Then it was just the two of us left.

Alex was still glowing from all the attention she had received, and a bit sad that it was over.

"The party was wonderful," she said. "Thanks so much." She kissed me on the cheek.

I gave her a little hug. "Happy birthday," I said.

She looked at a few of her gifts. She picked up the negligee and held it in front of herself again, looking at herself in the mirror. I was in the corner of the mirror. I came up behind her and put my arms around her. She dropped the negligee on the bed and just stood for a second, the two of us looking at ourselves in the mirror.

"Did you make a wish?" I asked her.

"Yes," she replied, "but it's a secret."

"Well, I hope it comes true."

We stood in silence for a while. But when it seemed that I had been hugging her about as long as a roommate could reasonably hug a roommate on her birthday, I gently let her go.

We got ready for bed, each on our separate sides of the room. I got into my bed, she turned out the lights. But instead of getting into her bed, she came over to mine.

"Do you think I could have just one more little cuddle?"

I scooted over and opened up the blanket for her to get in next to me. She got in and lay her head on the pillow. I let the blanket back down over the two of us.

"This was one of my nicest birthdays ever," she said.

"I'm glad it worked out so well."

She looked at me. Somehow, instinctively, I realized it was the way that a girl looks when she wants to be kissed. So I moved my head closer. She puckered her lips, and I put mine against them, feeling their firm texture. She had her arms crossed in front of her. I put my arm around her and held her close.

She gently broke off the kiss, and settled herself more cozily into my embrace, her head against my cheek and shoulder. I moved my hand down to the small of her back. I didn't try to hide my erection.

I wasn't sure if she wanted more. The way we were lying together seemed so pure. A hug and kiss on her birthday.

After a minute or so, she started to disengage. "Thanks," she said, softly.

"You can stay."

"I'd better go." She gave me another little kiss on the lips, and then got up from the bed. "Sleep tight," she whispered.

"You too, Alex. Happy birthday."

---

The school year kept moving along, the way school years do. I couldn't have asked for a better roommate than Alex. She and I were always talking about the ideas that had come up in our classes, to the point that it sometimes seemed like we were both doing a double major. She'd show me the pictures they were studying, pointing out the themes and details to pay attention to in a Giotto or a da Vinci, a Monet or a Van Gogh. I explained De Morgan's law and reductio ad absurdum, the arrival of Zen Buddhism, the first hundred days of the New Deal.

We proofread each other's papers and quizzed each other on dates and vocabulary. We decorated the walls with art posters: Botticelli's Primavera, Van Gogh's Starry Night, Maxfield Parrish's Ecstasy (which I couldn't leave the bookstore without, and which Alex didn't object to). We went to talks and exhibits and sometimes sat in on each other's classes, just to get a taste of them. From a scholarly contemplation point of view it was everything I wanted sophomore year to be.

But there was always something else hanging there just slightly out of reach. I'd never given up the dream that the two of us might eventually establish a more intimate relationship. But it was hard to tell if we were making any progress. I was never sure exactly what my feelings for her were. I loved being with her, I loved her being part of my life. But was that just the way things worked between mixed-gender roommates? Or was I really falling in love with her?

It was hard to tell what her true feelings were for me. She clearly liked me a lot in a roommate sort of way. But I couldn't tell how she felt about me in a boy / girl sort of way. She seemed somewhat timid to physical closeness. She enjoyed the dancing and the occasional horsing around, but the two times I'd kissed her she'd been very reserved. A little warmth, perhaps, but no spark. Was that just a shy reticence that my perseverance might eventually overcome?

I knew I wasn't the handsomest fellow around, or the most athletic, or the most engaging. But I did think of myself as reasonably sociable, reasonably good humored, reasonably fun to be around. I kind of hoped that by just being myself these positive qualities might add up to something in her eyes. But if it was working at all, it was taking its time.

---

One day we were next door with Stacey and Beverley and a guy they knew. He'd just learned of our situation.

"So you guys can just go at it whenever you want, twenty-four seven," he said, incredulously. "That's pretty sweet."

Neither Alex nor I said anything.

"I mean, you guys do fuck, don't you?"

"That's not really any of your business," I said.

He gave me a look of dawning recognition. "You're shitting me!" He looked at Alex, who was blushing for all she was worth. He turned to Stacey. "Are they for real? They live together in the same dorm room and they don't even fuck?"

"Jesus, Don," said Stacey.

"Dude," he asked me, "seriously, how can you be in the same room with someone as hot as Alex going around naked all the time and not get turned on?"

"God, Don," said Stacey. "Do you go around naked all the time in your dorm room?"

"I sure as hell would if I lived with Alex."

"Well, maybe not everyone is as big a pervert as you are."

"Pervert? What's perverted about that? It's human nature. I don't know, Alex. If he's really not fucking you, he's either gay or retarded. Listen, if you were my roommate we'd have so much fun every night. You're more than welcome to come over some time and see what you've been missing."

"Yeah, right," laughed Stacey.

"It's just human nature, that's all I'm saying. You put two red-blooded college students of the opposite sex together in the same room for more than fifteen minutes and they're going to fuck. Isn't that right, Beverley?"

"I wouldn't know about that," replied Beverley in an embarrassed laugh.

"Listen, Stacey," continued Don, "if they can do it, why can't we? Create our own little computer mix up. Don and Stacey, that's what my printout says. How about you, Beverley? Shall we make it a threesome? Or you can move in with my roommate Steve if you want. He's pretty red-blooded too."

"God, Don" said Stacey, "You're a real piece of work."

"Baby, you know it. You and me, roommates. It was meant to be. What a party pad we'll turn this place into. Think of the space we'll save by only needing one bed."

---

Don's harangue left me feeling violated and sordid. Whatever Alex and my relationship was, we'd built it ourselves, and it had been private, between the two of us. Now it felt as if Don had broken into our room, tracked dog excrement all over it, and left the door open for the whole world to see. It wasn't bad enough that he'd said those things in front of me, but he'd said them in front of Alex and the girls.

Alex was upset too. "Oogh," she vented back in 241. "Is that what people think?"

"He's a jerk," I said. "He was just trying to get a rise out of us."

"Stacey and Beverley wondered the same thing though. Whether we . . . you know. We were talking the other day, and they asked me whether we did."

"What did you tell them?"

"The truth."

"I just couldn't see telling Don the truth. He would have made it sound bad no matter what I said."

"Is it what you think too, though?" she asked. "That people who live together should have sex."

"No, of course not."

"Do you ever think about it?"

"Having sex? I'm a guy. I think about it."

"The two of us?" Her look was so earnest.

"I . . . don't let myself. I put it out of my mind." My voice kind of quavered. My ears were burning. Because it was the truth. I didn't rule out the possibility of us having sex some day, but out of respect for her, and, I guess, out of fear of jinxing it, I never dwelt on it.

She looked at me as if she was seeing me for the first time. I couldn't tell if she believed me that I put it out of my mind or not. In a sense it didn't matter. We weren't little kids. Maybe we'd been pretending to be, but we weren't. Don was right. I was a man. She was a woman. Even if I didn't dwell on thoughts of sex, they were never far away.

"Do you think about it?" I asked.

She blushed. "I put it out of my mind too."

She turned away. It was a new side of her I'd never seen either. In all our time as roommates we'd told secrets, but only the ones we'd told. We'd shared feelings, but only the ones we'd shared.

---

The whole business with Don made me very self conscious about my masculinity. He was right. Alex was a very attractive woman, and I was quite attracted to her. But you wouldn't know it by the way I acted around her. It's not that I admired Don's raunchy style, but he did have a vitality about him, a manliness, that all the girls had responded to.

I'd been telling myself that the best way to be an honest roommate to Alex was just by being myself. But apparently the mild-mannered, bookish type didn't exactly sweep her off her feet. I was going to have to man up. To let her see that I was as red blooded as the next guy, and that I was crazy about her.

Finally I hit upon a plan. Mr. and Mrs. Duffy were having an Evening of Dance. There would be a short refresher class followed by two hours of ballroom dancing. I thought this would be something that Alex would really like. It would be a fun date for the two of us. It would get us out of the room, into a romantic setting, and this time I'd be more forthright, more manly. I'd come out and tell her what was in my heart, how much I wanted us to be boyfriend and girlfriend. She would see that all my previous hesitation had just been dormitory civility, but that underneath my heart beat only for her. I'd sweep her off her feet, I'd kiss her, a real kiss, my arms around her, holding her tight, and she would feel the temperature of my ardor.

The plan wasn't perfect. The dance was on Thursday, a school night, during the hectic last week of classes. The hall was downtown, and we'd have to take the bus to get there. Obstacles, surely, but not insurmountable ones.

I told Alex about the dance. Wouldn't it be fun? We could go to a nice restaurant in town first. It would be an adventure. But she was only lukewarm about the idea. She had a paper due on Friday, and finals began on Monday. Wouldn't it be better to plan to do something after finals? But we'd both be going home for the break right after. What about next semester? Oh, Alex! Reluctantly she agreed to go.

On Monday her Earth Science teacher scheduled a review session for Thursday evening at the exact time of the refresher class. It wasn't mandatory, but this was the one subject she was having the most trouble with. Just go, I told her. It would be all right. We'd have to skip the lesson and the restaurant, but we'd still we'll have fun at the dance.

.

On Wednesday I went into town to buy a corsage. The lady explained that a gardenia would be just the thing. She told me to keep it refrigerated. I hadn't planned on that. I wanted to surprise Alex, so I asked Stacey to keep it for me. She got all excited. I tried to downplay it---just a little get together of the dance class. She thought we could probably get away without refrigeration for just one day.

Thursday turned out to be a hectic day for both Alex and me. We missed each other at lunch, then she didn't come back to the room until after six, but she had to rush right off again to talk to someone about a project before her Earth Science review.

"What about dinner?"

"I'll eat a big breakfast tomorrow."

I went down and made us some sandwiches to eat on the bus. They had paper bags you could take, but when I got back to the room, there were big grease stains. I looked around but couldn't really figure out what else to do. Maybe Alex would have an idea.

I put on my sports coat and tie. I wanted tonight to be really special. I rehearsed in my mind how thing would go. They usually have a little intermission to give people a chance to rest. There was sure to be a veranda or an outdoor courtyard where we could walk. I'd silhouette myself against the stars and tell her how much she meant to me. And I'd kiss her. Or should I kiss her first?

Seven thirty came. I suddenly remembered the gardenia. Nobody was home next door. Beverley finally came around eight. She admired my get up and fetched the flower. It had started to turn a little brown. Not brown brown, but not the pristine white it was supposed to be. She wasn't sure whether it was still wearable or not.

Eight fifteen, eight thirty. The bus would take half an hour, but it only ran every half hour, so depending on when we got to the bus stop, it might take us almost an hour to get downtown. Finally Alex rushed in.

"I'm so sorry. Can we still make it?"

"Just barely."

"Let me get dressed."

I turned around while she changed. No time to shower. I showed her the gardenia. She said it was fine and had me pin it on, but it still looked a little sad to me. We put on our coats. I'd forgotten to do anything about the sandwiches, so I just stuffed them into my coat pocket.

The bus stop was clear across campus. When we got there I checked the schedule. We'd missed the bus by five minutes. The next one wouldn't be until nine fifteen. By the time we got downtown the ball would be practically over.

"Maybe the bus is running late," Alex suggested. We waited ten minutes, shuffling in the cold. No bus. Even if the next one was right on time we'd still miss the intermission. OK. I'd have to improvise. I looked at her. She looked exhausted, more ready for bed than for a night on the town.

"Maybe the dancing isn't going to work out," I said.

"I'm sorry. It's just turned out to be a bad night for it."

"Yeah." That's what she'd been trying to tell me all along. "But look, I've got some sandwiches." I pulled out the greasy bag. The sandwiches were all squashed and unappetizing. "Maybe we can just go eat them back at the room."

Alex seemed relieved. We started back across campus. The night sky was overcast, no chance for a silhouette. Still, if I was going to make my move it would have to be soon. Back at the room would be just too awkward. We were passing the hedge of the sculpture garden outside the library. The streetlights twinkled. As good a spot as any.

"When we first decided to share the room, I was excited and terrified all at the same time," I told her. "It was so daring, so risque for a boy and a girl to be sharing a room together. But it was terrifying too. I didn't know anything about living with a girl. I used to look at you and think, who is this strange, lovely creature living here beside me?

"You remember you told me your idea of what a good roommate should be. I've got to say, you've been all that to me and more. This semester has been the most exciting time of my life, intellectually, emotionally, in every way. I've loved everything about it: the partnership, the give and take, the whole having to figure out for ourselves how boys and girls can live together. I've loved sharing this year with you.

"So I guess what I'm getting at, the whole reason I kind of wanted to take you someplace special tonight . . . " I stopped, right in the middle of the quad, halfway between one twinkling streetlamp and the next. "I think that we've become more than roommates. More than friends. Alex, I think you're the most wonderful, beautiful, exciting person in the whole world. I . . . I just . . . I love you."

I put my arms around her and moved to kiss her.

But she turned her head away.

I pulled her closer.

She resisted, she . . . struggled.

I let her go. Her look was unmistakable. Affront that someone she thought she knew so well had been so presumptuous. Revulsion at the thought of the kiss. The thought of being kissed by me. I touched the side of my face as if I'd been slapped.

"Tracy," she said, "I don't feel about us that way."

I felt like such a fool. I'd presumed I knew the way she felt, but I'd completely misread her. No, I hadn't even misread her, I'd just projected my own fantasies onto her without bothering to read her at all. Had I ever even taken an honest look at her?

I'd bared my soul, taking it for granted that anyone would find my soul as interesting and lovable as I did. But my God, had I ever taken an honest look at myself? Now I was being forced to, to look at myself through her eyes. And what I saw was a conceited, petty, grease-stained, clothes-strewn wimp of a guy who was trying to pass himself off as some kind of red-blooded ladies man.

I felt ashamed. Flushed with shame. Shame in the marrow of my bones. People would see it scintillating there, and shake their heads and say, 'He didn't even know. He didn't even know that when shame is as warranted as that you feel it in the marrow of your bones.'