Myra-Breckinridge-Gore-Vidal

class but we did not speak and he was more than evernervous and sullen in my presence. His T-shirt is still in mydesk drawer, which now smells of him, a musky disturbingodor that makes me quite weak since, regretfully, I am notable to smell the original, for he keeps half a room'sdistance between us. I must soon make operative thesecond phase of my plan. Meanwhile, to my surprise, Mary-Ann has been unusually friendly. When I told her yesterdaythat Miss Cluff thought her very talented, she wasenormously pleased. "Miss Cluff is nice to say that. And Ido like singing but, like Rusty says, there's only room forone star in any bed... I mean family." She stammered,blushing deliciously at her error, which was no doubt alovers' joke. "I'm sure that's what he would say. It's the usualmale view." "But I like it. Honestly I do. I think the man's gotto be boss so a girl knows where she is." "I'm afraid that's aslightly outmoded point of view." I was careful, however, notto sound too sharp. "Particularly now when the relationshipbetween the sexes is changing so rapidly, and women arebecoming aggressive and men passive and..." "Which I justhate!" Mary-Ann was unexpectedly vehement. Good. Thesubject has occurred to her before. Excellent. "I hate theseboys who just drift around, taking pot and trips and notcaring if--well, if it's a boy or a girl they're with. It's justterrible the way so many are now, and I guess that's why I'mso hung up on Rusty. He's all man." I thought with someamusement of "all man's" defenseless bottom, quivering atmy touch. I have the power forever to alter her image ofRusty. But that is for later. Now I must win her friendship,