understand what he needed to steal for, though; his parents were definitely not poor.
Maybe that's why, she thought. Maybe stealing was the only way he felt he could get something on his own, something that wasn't handed to him by his parents. He didn't talk about his parents often, but when he did, he had nothing good to say.
Beneath his abrasive surface, though, Kevin had a soft side. It was buried deep and she'd only seen glimpses of it a few times, but it was there. And it seemed that maybe, just maybe, it had come out a bit more in the last couple weeks, that maybe she was having an effect on him. Perhaps, with a little time, she could cool the angry fire that seemed to burn in his eyes.
He hadn't said so, and probably wouldn't, but Kevin Donahue needed her.
Dating Kevin came with a price, though. The reactions from her friends hurt her, made her feel isolated, cut off, and, most of all, let down. They also made her more determined to stay with him, to show them she wasn't going to knuckle under just because they didn't approve.
That did not, however, diminish the disappointment she felt, as if she'd been betrayed or abandoned.
Her shoulders suddenly felt heavy, and she wanted to talk to Jeff. He always cheered her up when she was down, made her feel better, or at least took her mind off things.
Not this time.
Maybe, she thought, he can't do it anymore at all Can't or won't . Maybe those days are over.
That only made her feel worse.
She stopped at the side entrance to the building and stared for a moment at the door. If she went to class, she would run into Jeff; their first classes were next door to each other. If she didn't, she could get the assignment from Deidre later, and she could go find Kevin.
Mallory picked up her pace as she walked by the door….
Eight
Kevin Donahue opened his eyes and quickly squinted against the sunlight shining through his bedroom window. His headphones were still on, but the music had stopped. He sat up in bed and looked around. Something had awakened him.
"Kevin!" his mother snapped, pounding on the door again. "I have got to go to work now—will you get up? "
He took off the headphones and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the ragged sneakers that were still on his feet. His jeans and T-shirt clung to his skin.
"Kevin?"
"Yeah, I'm coming," he said hoarsely.
He ran his hands through his bushy hair as he stood and stretched. His eyes were bleary with sleep, and he rubbed them hard for a moment, then crossed the room and turned off the stereo.
After dropping Mallory off the night before, he'd come home to his room to write for a while. Music thundering in his head, he quickly jotted down the lyrics of a song he hadn't touched in months. When he finished, he read it over quickly and realized the song was about Mallory. No surprise. He'd never had that much sex in one night. Trevor's brother was gone for the week, and Trevor had lent them his key. It had been a small and sloppy apartment, but it had a big bed.
After finishing the song, Kevin had gone downstairs to the back yard, smoked a joint, and returned to his room to enjoy the high with some music and to relish the lingering, throbbing warmth in his genitals.
He went to his desk and looked at the lyrics of the song again. Sometimes they didn't seem so good the next day. This time, they did. He played the tune in his head, singing the words under his breath.
"Kevin!"
He reached under his shirt and scratched his flat belly, wishing he hadn't fallen asleep.
He opened his bedroom door on his mother, who was standing at the mirror in the hall, tugging her coat into position, turning this way and that, looking at her reflection.
"You know, Kevin," she said, adjusting an earring, "I don't think putting that lock on your door was such a good idea. I've been standing out here knocking on your door for the last ten minutes. If you can't get yourself up when you're supposed to, the lock goes, do you understand?"
"I
Maybe that's why, she thought. Maybe stealing was the only way he felt he could get something on his own, something that wasn't handed to him by his parents. He didn't talk about his parents often, but when he did, he had nothing good to say.
Beneath his abrasive surface, though, Kevin had a soft side. It was buried deep and she'd only seen glimpses of it a few times, but it was there. And it seemed that maybe, just maybe, it had come out a bit more in the last couple weeks, that maybe she was having an effect on him. Perhaps, with a little time, she could cool the angry fire that seemed to burn in his eyes.
He hadn't said so, and probably wouldn't, but Kevin Donahue needed her.
Dating Kevin came with a price, though. The reactions from her friends hurt her, made her feel isolated, cut off, and, most of all, let down. They also made her more determined to stay with him, to show them she wasn't going to knuckle under just because they didn't approve.
That did not, however, diminish the disappointment she felt, as if she'd been betrayed or abandoned.
Her shoulders suddenly felt heavy, and she wanted to talk to Jeff. He always cheered her up when she was down, made her feel better, or at least took her mind off things.
Not this time.
Maybe, she thought, he can't do it anymore at all Can't or won't . Maybe those days are over.
That only made her feel worse.
She stopped at the side entrance to the building and stared for a moment at the door. If she went to class, she would run into Jeff; their first classes were next door to each other. If she didn't, she could get the assignment from Deidre later, and she could go find Kevin.
Mallory picked up her pace as she walked by the door….
Eight
Kevin Donahue opened his eyes and quickly squinted against the sunlight shining through his bedroom window. His headphones were still on, but the music had stopped. He sat up in bed and looked around. Something had awakened him.
"Kevin!" his mother snapped, pounding on the door again. "I have got to go to work now—will you get up? "
He took off the headphones and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the ragged sneakers that were still on his feet. His jeans and T-shirt clung to his skin.
"Kevin?"
"Yeah, I'm coming," he said hoarsely.
He ran his hands through his bushy hair as he stood and stretched. His eyes were bleary with sleep, and he rubbed them hard for a moment, then crossed the room and turned off the stereo.
After dropping Mallory off the night before, he'd come home to his room to write for a while. Music thundering in his head, he quickly jotted down the lyrics of a song he hadn't touched in months. When he finished, he read it over quickly and realized the song was about Mallory. No surprise. He'd never had that much sex in one night. Trevor's brother was gone for the week, and Trevor had lent them his key. It had been a small and sloppy apartment, but it had a big bed.
After finishing the song, Kevin had gone downstairs to the back yard, smoked a joint, and returned to his room to enjoy the high with some music and to relish the lingering, throbbing warmth in his genitals.
He went to his desk and looked at the lyrics of the song again. Sometimes they didn't seem so good the next day. This time, they did. He played the tune in his head, singing the words under his breath.
"Kevin!"
He reached under his shirt and scratched his flat belly, wishing he hadn't fallen asleep.
He opened his bedroom door on his mother, who was standing at the mirror in the hall, tugging her coat into position, turning this way and that, looking at her reflection.
"You know, Kevin," she said, adjusting an earring, "I don't think putting that lock on your door was such a good idea. I've been standing out here knocking on your door for the last ten minutes. If you can't get yourself up when you're supposed to, the lock goes, do you understand?"
"I
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