It was Friday afternoon, I remember, in late May, and a bunch of us had cutclasses to go down to the lake and swim. There were about twelve of us, evenly dividedinto boys and girls—which is always the best way, I think, after all—and we’d begun assimply an amorphous pack, only gradually pairing off. I’d taken Jodi to a movie onceupon a time, but aside from some sporadic breast-clutching in the darkened balcony of the theater, nothing much had happened. I looked at her that afternoon, and I knew atonce that that was a mistake that had to be rectified, and the sooner the better.God, she was lovely! Picture this, if you’ll be so kind: A girl of eighteen, just tallenough so that the top of her head was even with my shoulder. Long slender legs, tannedan amber gold. Smooth tanned arms, cameo shoulders and neck, the softest downiestthroat in all creation. A longish pixyish face shaped somewhat like an inverted triangle. No! What a ghastly picture, that isn’t what I mean at all! Picture an elf, with the straightslanting jawline, the high cheekbones, and somehow hungry look. Add to this picture aflawless tanned complexion, two huge round dark eyes as deep as night, a straight not-too-narrow nose, and cupid-bow lips of a red that would put Titian to shame. That washer face, framed by honey-blonde hair cut rather short and brushed very straight, curlingaround the shells of the ears.I purposely left the portion encased in the bathing suit till last. The bathing suititself, of course, was black. Two straps curved over those lovely shoulders and shot downtoward the breasts. Firm breasts, not yet very large, but exciting to touch for all that. And, below, the bathing suit hugged down across a perfectly flat belly. And now we turn her around, as though she were a work of art upon a pedestal, and we stare for a while at the back view.The lovely breasts around front distracted us so that we didn’t really notice her waist. Now, with the aft portion facing us, we can see that she has a hell of a good waistindeed, the sides sloping in from beneath the arms—that’s just a hint of breast-curve wecan see there, when she raises her arm that way, and isn’t that the most beautiful sight inall the world?—and the sloping-in ends at a waist that is just the perfect degree of slenderness, without the malnutrition look that goes over so big in the clothing ads. And below the waist, the whole business starts to slope out again, curving this way and that, inthe cutest rear you’ve ever seen. You just want to walk up behind her and pinch, and leanyour chin on that soft shoulder and whisper into that soft ear, “Hiya, Jodi.”That was Jodi.At any rate, we all cut classes and went off to the lake for an afternoon of swimming and fooling around. It was, as I said, late May, and too early for the lake to befilled with tourists and vacationers and cabin-owners, so we had the place pretty much toourselves. We ran shouting into the chilly water at the public beach and immediatelyswam around to one of the better private beaches, where we knew the owners hadn’t yet put in their annual arrival. One poor fool—old Jack Fleming, I think it was—tried toswim the whole way one-handed, holding a portable radio up in the air with the other arm, and of course the result was that he practically drowned himself and gave that radioa hell of a good soaking.But they really made radios in those days. We opened the silly thing up and let itdry in the sun for two or three minutes, and then we slapped it back together and turned iton, and by God it played! It played mainly static, of course, but here and there you coulddetect a note of music in the garble, so we turned it up to top volume and then spent theafternoon screaming over it.