"I didn't mean that," Emily said, lowering her eyes. She knew why Traci was so paranoid about sex… the whole neighborhood knew the story about her mother. But no one talked about it, everyone liking Traci's mom and her efforts at trying to build a good present and future for her daughter and herself. "I just meant that you're too uptight. Everyone can see you tensing when a guy comes near you. You have to relax, be natural. You can have fun with 'em without going all the way."

Traci sighed, rolling up her blanket and stuffing it in her bag.

"Men just want one thing," Traci retorted. "They just want to slide up between your legs. Then they'll go away and… and…" She couldn't finish. Tears started welling up in her eyes. She turned from her friend, brushing more hair from her eyes, watching the Pacific turn a dark luminous green while whitecaps began to appear out in the bay.

"I've gotta go to the john. I'll be right back," Emily said, scrambling to her feet. She knew the conversation had gone as far as it could.

Traci watched her retreating friend, then turned and resumed her contemplation of the harbor. Men, she thought gloomily. The way Emily was talking, the way she was primping, it was just as if she were getting ready to get fucked. Traci sucked in her breath in dismay at having used that dirty word again. She had promised herself never to use words like that… promised both herself and her mother.

Why can't I stop thinking those words? the girl thought in a moment of self truth, covering her face with both hands and leaning forward. It was true. For all her propriety in public Traci was feeling forces at work inside her she couldn't understand. I'm not going to give into it, Traci said, rocking back and forth in her self-imposed darkness. But how strong those forces were, making her pussy so hot and moist when she lay alone in her bed. And when Traci tried closing her eyes she thought of Greg or indeed any young man, wondering what he looked like naked, wondering what his body felt like.