‘No,’ I whispered. ‘When did you first make love?’ she continued cruelly. ‘In college. Toward the end of my junior year. About two years ago...’ I couldn’t force myself to meet their gazes. I looked down at the table helplessly. ‘Tell us about it.’ ‘Oh, no!’ I pleaded. ‘Oh, please! It’s really embarrassing. Please?’ I looked frantically around the table. Jean patted me on the leg. ‘Go ahead, dear. Just tell us. It’s okay,’ she assured. I looked back down. This was terrible. I’d spent two years. “I was gonna leave you a note, but yoursection of the building is locked up by the time I getthere. Let’s go somewhere so we can catch up,” shesuggested. We chatted amiably about the previous three months fora few minutes; she was having a much easier time withher classes and hadn’t been stressed all semester.Julie excused herself for a second, went back over toher table and grabbed her purse. She pulled out alighter and a Capri. I commented, “Still smoking when. More

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