"You're going to be late," he laughed. "So are you." "Not me. I'll just say I've been checking powder rooms," he said and jumped off the bed. "You rat," she shouted as she walked out the door. Her bare feet slapped the pavement as she bounded down the stairs. "Hey, Tirza!" called Gene. She turned to look at him. "Thanks for waking me up." She smiled and turned around. She undid her buttons as she walked down the hall and went into her room. She slammed the door and tossed her robe on a hook in the closet. She grabbed the white uniform out of the closet and wiggled into it. She picked up the dirty socks on the floor and pulled her feet into them. She shoved her feet into the tan keds and checked for the key in her pocket. She felt it bounce as she walked over to the door and flipped the lock. She pulled the door closed and walked down the hall, doing up her buttons. The service elevator creaked and groaned as it grunted to a stop. She yanked the cage door open and stepped out. Sara was standing in the hall smoking. Her frizzy, red hair kinked in knots on her head and dangled down on her leathery forehead. "Hi, hon," she gushed as Tirza walked past her into the linen room. She walked over to the table and signed the book. "Number 3 05 don't want no night service, hon," yelled Sara. "Newlyweds! Makin' their own night service," she cackled as Tirza lifted an armload of sheets off the shelf. "Gert's sellin' Christmas cards again," bellowed Sara. "Want some?" "No, thank you," said Tirza as she stepped into the hall with an armload of sheets. "Tell Gene I'll be down in 315 if he wants me to put the cots in early," she said and backed through the swinging doors. Tirza stood in front of the mirror and fluffed her hair. She sprayed it heavily with hair spray and put the can on the shelf. She rinsed the mascara spotters off the sink and wiped her hand on the towel. She could hear Gene walking down the hall. She waited till he knocked, then opened the door. She could see his eyes behind the black glasses as he looked down at her tight green stretch pants. Her gold blouse puckered in all the right places. Her blonde hair dropped down over her right eye. "You look sexy," he said. "I feel innocent." "That won't take long to fix," he said and put his arm around her. "It might," she giggled as she flipped out the light and pulled the door closed. The Espresso looked like a renovated pioneer church from the outside, thought Tirza as they sat at a round table. Gathered curtains hung on all the windows and cast rippled shadows on the pointed ceiling. Gas wall-lamps forced yellow splashes of light to filter out through the 10 smoke. Small, round tables with fringed, red cloths dropped over them surrounded the wooden floor. Loose-jointed dancers shouted and jumped around among the tables. Waitresses in black turtle-neck sweaters and tight stretch pants ricocheted around the room like dodge 'em cars. Tirza snickered as she watched them. "What's funny?" growled Gene as he stared at her. "The waitresses," she laughed. "They remind me of those dodge 'em cars at amusement parks. You know, the ones that bump into everything." "Yeh, they do kind of," he said. "You like it here?" "Very much," she said. "Why?" "It's different. It's something new and exciting. It's wicked." "Why do you say that?" "I'm a girl who doesn't live this kind of life. We don't go to places like this at home." "Where do you go?" "Oh lots of places clean environment places. Places I like." "You like this too?" "Sure. It's different. I'm in a changed world. I'm with a boy that I'll see for one summer, and then it will be over. I wish it weren't that way, but it is. You drink. I don't. You smoke. I don't. It's a world for now, not always." Gene laughed and lit a cigarette. "You sound like a little girl." "I feel like one." She watched him smoke. "You like it here, don't you?" "No, it's some place to drink, somebody to listen to." "Gene, why do you always wear those glasses?" "I have to. I was welding without a mask, and my eyes got burned. If I wear them for two or three years, I won't go blind." "Even at night?" "Every minute that my eyes are open." He looked at the stage. "The guys are going to sing now. Tirza turned her neck and looked at the stage. "Slide around. Your neck will fall off," said Gene as he pulled her chair back. He slid it next to his. She looked up at him. He laid his arm across her shoulders. The boys walked over and sat on stools in the middle of the stage. Their birch-wood guitars flashed in the lights as they moved. The tallest one talked while the others strummed softly. Everyone in the room had stopped moving. The only noise Tirza could hear was Gene blowing out smoke. The tall one stopped talking. The group plucked an introduction and began singing "Old Bill". Gene put his hand on the back of Tirza's neck and began stroking her as he sucked on his cigarette. Goose bumps climbed on her skin. She stared at the singer. He stared at the floor. The singers finished the song and started to talk. A waitress came over with a pitcher of beer and two glasses. She poured them full and walked back to the bar. Tirza looked down at the beer and made a noise as her chair creaked. The foam jiggled on the amber beer and made it 11