Trish came by that night. Actually she came by in the early evening first, at dinner time. She carried up a plate of BBQ with homemade potato salad and slaw. She was wearing sneakers, tight jeans and a low cut-blouse. She also had beer, two of them, one for her and one for Bill.
She didn’t knock. She just let herself in, called out “Hello?” even though she knew he was there. Bill came out from the bedroom.
“Hi,” he said. He wore a man’s shirt, open, and white navy surplus bell-bottom pants. He was barefoot.
“Brought you some dinner.” She set the plate down on the trunk, set the beer bottles down and plunked herself down on the sofa.
“You really are skinny,” he said.
“Very. Small tits too, but you already know that. Nice nipples though, huh? Anyway, if I want, I can wear boy’s clothes. Makes it cheap for me, specially at the second hand store.”
Bill sat next to her and took up the plate to eat.
“Patsy’s a really good cook. And that’s not all as you know now.”
“She’s wild. You too.”
“She and I have been friends forever, since public school. Anyway, no matter how free they are with other people, I don’t do her guy. I just live there. I live there because it’s good economically for all of us. And Patsy and me, well, we hang out together.”
“I’d say that’s pretty accurate.”
“We’re not gay or bi, not really. I’m hetero even though I enjoy doing what we did this afternoon sometimes. I think when I get married, I’m just gonna be straight with my man, not in an open marriage. That’s okay for now, while we’re young and free, you know?”
Bill sipped his beer. “You don’t have to tell me this stuff. You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
“Can I read your poetry?”
“Sure.”
Bill got up and went into the bedroom. He returned with a notebook and a binder, handed them both to Trish. Then he sat back down and finished eating.
She read. She spent twenty minutes reading. Bill went about doing things he had to do, some of which was homework. In the midst of the things he did, he washed the plate and fork Trish had brought up and poured them both some wine. Trish said she had more beer downstairs and if he wanted she would bring it up. But Bill went on to drink wine and so did Trish. They smoked a joint too. Then she told him she’d be back later, took up his binder and notebook and left.
Bill was reading when she came back. It was after eleven and he was thinking she wasn’t coming, which was alright with him. He had just a little more to read for tomorrow’s class which was why he hadn’t gone to sleep.
This time she was wearing a black slip and open-toe, high-heel mules. She’d done her hair and her make-up too, dark eyes and deep, black lipstick. She didn’t knock this time either, just let herself in through the unlocked door.
“What you reading?” Trish asked. She stood before him, legs slightly spread, hands on her hips.
Bill looked at her, really took her in. “For my philosophy class,” he said.
“What’s it about?”
“Nothing particularly useful in this world.”
“So why you reading it?”
“Expanding my mind.”
Trish smiled. She shifted on her feet, one foot to the other. “Lots of ways to expand your mind,” she said. “Let’s get wasted.”
“What you want?”
“Quaaludes, lots of them. And wine. And weed. And then some good speed in the morning. You got all that?”
“You know I do.”
“I’d do anything for speed. Anything.”
Bill closed his textbook, got up to get the drugs. She was sitting on the sofa, legs spread wide when he returned.
“I’m not wearing underwear,” she said.
