Myra-Breckinridge-Gore-Vidal

simply shut him out and watched the group that wasdancing in the center of the room, a dozen boys and girlsgyrating without touching one another, each in his or herprivate world which is the key to the game of the moment:don't touch me and I won't touch you. While the operativeword is "Cool." Like fun? Like crazy! Of the dancers, RustyGodowsky was easily the most exciting and certainly themost attractive, in his faded chinos and checked shirt,whose top two buttons were missing, revealing a smoothmuscular neck at whose base, just below the hollows of thecollarbone, tendrils of bronze hair curl, looking as if theywould be silky to the touch, unlike the usual male Brillo.Soon I shall know for certain their texture. Poor Mary-Ann."He does dance well, doesn't he?" Mary-Ann sat down inthe place which the metaphysician had vacated, without, Ifear, my noticing his departure. Obviously she had seen mewatching Rusty. She is not entirely stupid. "I was studyinghim for posture." I sounded colder than I intended, but shehad taken me by surprise and I dislike it when peopleobserve me without my knowledge. "I will say he movesvery well when he dances," I added with a degree ofwarmth which encouraged her to smile shyly. "That's beingan athlete. It's just when he walks he sort of lumbers." "Well,we'll soon take care of that," I said briskly, and indeed Ishall, poor bastard. Mary-Ann chattered away, unaware ofmy designs. "We've been talking about maybe gettingmarried in June after we finish the course-that is, if we canboth get work. Of course I can always pick up a little moneymodeling. I'm not really crazy about a career, you know.