But she knew that she would go, deeply, she knew that. And she was in love with him, and life was unfair, so terribly unfair, so unfair beyond all imagining. * * * * * Waiting for him, she was sick with a strange excitement that kept her blood alive and racing. She was afraid, too--mildly afraid, but fear could not stop her. Waiting, she remembered: their laughter, and a picnic lunch, once, when he had tried to hold her hand during the hour when they listened to the Music, again when he chose her twice in the social living game; and how unafraid and _warm_ she had been then, until it began to break and crumble around her, and she could feel him drifting away, toward Them--toward the utterly terrifying and complex and baffling and painful life beyond her, where she was afraid to go. But she could not let him escape from her: for he owed her something more--he _had to_ owe her something more; life owed her something more, and she would not be cheated. Then she would go away, and leave school, and go somewhere and try to start all over again, and most of all, really try to understand. She was waiting for him just beyond the light that cascaded down the steps from the open doors of the library, and finally, when she saw him coming, a tall, lanky form coming uncertainly from the darkness, she felt her temples pound, and her knees were trembling. He came to her side. Her hand, not shyly, now, went out for his, and he tried to draw back, startled by the strange intensity of her eyes. Then, without a word, she led him by the hand across the smooth grass toward the aspen trees around the tiny, moonlit lake. When they were safely hidden among the trees, she pressed him to the ground, and to her the moon seemed pale and ghostly, and the water lilies, coffin flowers, and the cat tails, dead, furry fingers. Life was no longer sweet and innocent, and the lake smell was like decay upon the air. "There," she said huskily. "Sit there. I'll sit by you." Again she took his hand, and the wind rustled the trees. "I want you to be in love with me," she said. "Uh ... you love me, don't you?" he said uncomfortably. "I want to be loved," she echoed stubbornly, and the wind sighed. Lake water gurgled at the shore, and she thought it might be going down a drain, somewhere, the way time goes down a drain; although time goes silently. * * * * * She closed her eyes, trying to think, but she found only the eternal confusion in her mind; and the wind carried back some of her own sweet perfume smell to her, half sickening her. She licked her lips nervously, and her cheeks were hot. "We'll get married and have our own home, and you can...."