"Your place is just a few blocks from Henry Peidmont. I usually give him and Betty Thompson a lift to school in the mornings."

"Oh yeah, I know." She smiled. "Spying on me?"

"No! Uh-uh."

"I was just joking."

He kept staring into her eyes. For a few moments he was silent.

Then he smiled. "Me, too. I mean, I don't spy on you, exactly. But I notice you a lot. All the time. Whenever you're around, anyway."

"Really?"

"If you want to know the truth-" Grimacing, he shook his head.

"Never mind."

"No, what?"

"You'd think I'm a dork."

"No, I wouldn't. Come on." She elbowed him gently. "Spill it."

"It's stupid. Never mind."

"All right. Anyway, what I was going to say is you can ride with us if you'd like. I could pick you up Monday morning on my way to Henry's.

I've got room for one more pas-senger. It'd save your mother a trip, and we'd be glad to have you along."

George looked confused. "Why?" he asked.

"Why what?"

"Why would you want me along?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"We don't even know each other."

"We do now. And I want to know you better."

His face went crimson. "You do?"

"Yes."

"Jeez."

"How about it?"

"Sure. Fine. I'll have to check with my parents, but..." He shook his head.

"Why don't you give me your telephone number?"

"Yeah. Sure. Okay."

Lane opened her purse. She took out a pen and a small notepad.

George told her the telephone number. She wrote it down, then wrote her own number on the next page, tore off the sheet and gave it to him. He stared at it.

"You find out if it's all right with your folks, and I'll give you a call tomorrow."

"Yeah. Okay."

"You don't have to ride with us."

"No, I think... that'd be neat. Henry's a cool guy, and-"

"I've never heard him called that before."

George grinned. "Well, yeah, he is. I think so, anyway."

"Me, too." "Betty's kind of obnoxious."

Lane laughed. "Ah, you know her."

"To know her is to fear her. But you're not so bad."

"Why, thanks. You're not so bad, either."

Thirty-eight

"Would you mind if we stop at the marina for a minute?" Mr. Kramer asked after he'd dropped off the others. They were back on Shoreline Drive, still a mile from the turnoff to Lane's house. "It'll save me an errand in the morning."

"That's okay with me," she said.

"Great. It won't take long. I just need to pick up a couple of things I left on my boat."

"You have a boat?"

"She isn't much, but she's mine."

"Gee, that's neat." Neat, Lane thought. Dumb. Stop talking like a kid.

He pulled the station wagon into the parking area in front of a hardware store, turned around and headed back the way they'd come.

Lane was well aware that they had passed the marina shortly after leaving the college. Either Mr. Kramer hadn't wanted the rest of the kids to know about his boat, or he'd just remembered whatever it was that he needed to pick up. Either way, she was glad. This would give her a little while longer to be with him. And it made her feel special that he was willing to take her along, to let her have a glimpse of his real world.

I'm more than just a student to him, she thought. He wants me to see that he's not just a teacher.

"So," he said, "I guess you made a new friend tonight."

"George? Yeah. He's nice."

"He's a good student. He seems like quite a young gentleman. Did he ask you out?"

"No, not hardly."

"Well, then, he missed the boat. No pun intended."

"George is pretty bashful. But I might start giving him rides to school. He has to check with his parents."

"Always a good idea. Speaking of parents, it's almost midnight. I don't want to get you into any trouble."

"Well, they know it's a long play. I don't think they'll mind if I'm kind of late. Especially since I'm with you. Since you're my teacher, and everything."

"Good. That's good. This won't take long." Soon he turned into the marina parking lot. A few other cars and pickups were there, but Lane saw no people. "Come on down with me," Mr. Kramer said. "I'll show you the pride of my fleet."

"Great." She climbed out. She met him in front of his station wagon. Side by side they walked toward the dock. A chilly wind, blowing in off the river, swept her hair back and pressed the front of her blouse and skirt against her skin. She leaned into it. She folded her arms across her chest. "Cold?"

"A little."

"Here." He started to remove his blazer.

"No, no. I can't take that. I'm fine. Really."

"I insist." Turning to Lane, his white sport shirt flapping, his necktie whipping this way and that, he draped the jacket over her shoulders.

She clutched its lapels to keep it from blowing away.

"You're gonna freeze," she warned, her voice trembling.

"Naw. I'm of hearty, seafaring stock."

"If you say so."

He unlocked a chain-link gate and held it open while Lane stepped onto the dock. When he came toward her, his shoulders were hunched.

"You are freezing."

"Me?" Arching his back, he threw his chest out and pounded it with his fists.

Lane laughed. It felt strange to laugh with her lungs feeling so tight and shaky. It left her breathless.

"You can shield me," Mr. Kramer said. He turned her around.

Holding her by the shoulders, he pressed himself against her back and steered her forward. She twisted her head to look at him. Their faces nearly collided. "Careful," he said. "Or we'll have still another accident."

The dock swayed under her feet. The boats moored along both sides bobbed and pitched on the rough surface of the river. Most were dark, but lights glowed from the cabins of a few. She wondered if there were people inside the lighted boats. She didn't see anyone. And hoped that no one saw her.

What if it got back to Mom and Dad that I was out here fooling around like this with Mr. Kramer?

"Hard to port," he said into her ear. Turning Lane to the left, he pushed her along an arm of pier. Past a rocking, dark sailboat. Past a catamaran. He halted her at the bow of a powerboat that must've been at least twenty feet long. Moonlight gleamed on its foredeck and cabin windshield.

He hurried ahead of Lane, and she followed him up a narrow strip of pier that reached alongside the boat. Near the stern he stepped onto the gunwale and hopped down. "Watch your step," he said. He held out a hand to her. She took it, hung onto his jacket with her other hand, and planted a foot on the rail. As she thrust herself up, he pulled. She dropped, landed on the pitching deck and staggered against him.

Mr. Kramer wrapped his arms around her. He squeezed her tightly against him. He said, "Brrrrr."

His face felt cool on her cheek. His chest was solid against her breasts. His hands moved up and down her back. She could feel him shivering. "Why don't we go below for a minute?" he gasped. "Warm up."

Lane nodded.

He turned away, unlocked the cabin door and slid it open. "Go on first. And watch your step."

She climbed down into darkness. Away from the wind. At the bottom of the stairs she found herself in narrow, cozy quarters.

Moonlight came in through the portholes, casting a gray haze over cushions to both sides and in front of her.

She heard the door skid shut. It cut off most of the wind's noise.

"Sleeps three," Mr. Kramer said. "If they're munchkins."

"Nice," Lane whispered. She turned around, careful not to lose her balance, and saw the dim shape of Mr. Kramer coming toward her.

"A haven from the tempest," he said.

"That's for sure. You might as well have this back." She slipped the blazer off her shoulders.

"Just toss it down anywhere."

She folded the jacket. As she bent down to place it on a cushion, a hand stroked the back of her head and she flinched.

"Sorry. Did I startle you?"

"A little."

She stood up straight. The hand slipped down to her shoulder. Then both Mr. Kramer's hands were on her shoulders, gently rubbing them through the heavy denim. Her mouth went dry. Her heart thudded.

"Does that feel good?" he asked.

"Yeah. But... I really can't stay."

"I know. We'll go in a minute. But you like this, don't you? I know you liked it after school the other day. Really eases the tension."