"That's a good book!" Brian said. Then he added, "I read it in about two hours."

"Gee, your lips must have gotten tired," Brenda commented, then returned to her reading.

"Can I sit down?" Brian asked. "Please?"

"You can go straight to hell!" Brenda said, standing up. She walked quickly out of the drive-in, not looking back, leaving Brian standing there stupidly, a tortured look on his face.

Brian walked home, his hands in his pockets. His mood had altered drastically, and he fairly booted the door down ash entered his house through the garage. He went to the refrigerator and poured himself a large glass of milk and drank it down in one gulp, feeling the icy liquid knot up his already churning it stomach.

He couldn't get his mind off of Brenda. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see her plain as day, her beautiful face – even in anger – haunting him. He felt like ramming his fist into a wall as he walked into the living room, and then he heard the voices upstairs. It was probably Beth and one of her snotty-nosed friends, he muttered, turning on the television.

"It's Brian!" his sister Beth called out to her friend, Susan. "Let's go down go and see him!"

"Oh, Jesus Christ!" Brian said quietly, not looking forward to a day with his sister and her bratty friend. "Stay up there and play," he yelled out.

"Hello, handsome!" Beth said sitting beside her big brother, her fingers in his hair.

"Goddammit, Beth!" Brian said loudly, "Don't do that!"

"But I like touching you!" Beth said, her fingers slipping under his collar and feeling his taunt, hairy chest.

"Will you please keep your fucking hands to yourself?" Brian yelled out, pushing Beth away. Then he looked at his little sister with a penetrating stare. "Has this whole fucking world gone crazy today?"

"You sure say fucking a lot," Beth said. "Is that because you do it a lot?"