The knob on the front door turned slowly and cautiously. Dustin and Guillermo stood watching. The door slid slightly open, and through the crack Wendy and Darryl's shadowed faces peeked out. The door opened further, and Wendy beckoned the boys in.

Wendy and Darryl both wore drab cloth nightgowns that reached to mid-calf. The material on the nightgowns was pilled but still soft from motherly washing know-how. Darryl's looked barely newer, and both must have been at least two years old.

Darryl put her finger on her lips to Dustin and Guillermo. The two girls turned and tiptoed off. Dustin and Guillermo followed, placing their feet delicately. One of the stairs creaked on the way up. Wendy whipped her head around and glared with bulging eyes at the boys. She wasn't mad or anything. She was just saying, "Come on. This is serious. My parents would kill me, and you, if they caught us."

The little band of conspirators kept moving, more carefully after Wendy's reproof. The shag carpeting quieted their steps. They got to Wendy's door. They looked around to see if they'd inadvertantly disturbed the parents. Everything seemed O.K. Wendy turned the knob and nudged open the door. They went in. Wendy shut the door after them. Darryl sat down Indian style in the clear space next to the bed. Dustin and Guillermo sat down with her. They left the lights off.

On the wall over the bed, Dustin could make out an Alphaville poster. On the dresser opposite the foot of the bed sat one of those cheap, Sanyo, record-player/tape deck/radio all-combined-into-one dealies. Wendy dialed KRQR into the radio and turned the volume low. A ghostly green lit up the radio band and power button, casting an eerie surrealness on the gathering and somehow legitimating it. Surreal was the imprimatur of all memorable sneak-outs.

Foreigner-Urgent was playing. "Urgent, urgent . . . emergency." Classic.

Wendy strode across the room and got something from the corner. She came back with incense in a holder. She fired up the incense with a yellow Bic and set the holder on the dresser next to the stereo. The incense suffused a punguent musk through the room.

Wendy joined the other three on the floor, tucking her nightgown between her legs as she sat down. "I can't believe you guys were asleep. Why were you asleep?" Guillermo asked. Disgust masked his offense.

"We stayed up 'til 1:00, but we couldn't stay up anymore. We were tired," Wendy answered.

"That's unsatisfactory," Dustin stated.

"We didn't know if you guys were going to come. And if you didn't then we would have been sitting up here, staring out the window, waiting for nothing. And we knew if you did come that you could wake us up. Going to sleep seemed reasonable," Darryl expounded.

"Well aren't we just the thinker," Guillermo quipped.

"So'd you guys make us anything special?" Dustin redirected the conversation.

"We made brownies tonight. We saved you a plate. My mom's going to think we ate 'em all tomorrow. I'll just tell her Darryl's a pig," Wendy said and laughed. "Here. You guys want some."

Wendy got up and went to the dresser. She picked up a tin-foil covered plate next to the incense. She returned to the circle, pulled back the tin-foil and said, "Here."

Dustin and Guillermo dug in. Dustin put three in his lap and started eating a fourth. Then he handed the plate to Guillermo, who did the same. Darryl passed. She'd eaten enough of them at dinner.

Joan Jett and the Blackhearts was playing on the radio now. "I love rock and roll / Put another dime in the jukebox, baby / I love rock and roll / Come on take a chance and dance with me / With me, yeah me."

Guillermo smiled and said, "I love this song." He had a piece of brownie stuck in between his front two teeth. "Have you guys heard her version of Little Drummer Boy? It's really good."

Darryl shifted. She moved both her legs to one side but stayed sitting up, side-saddle on the carpet. Dustin and Guillermo kept chowing their brownies.

"So what's up with you guys and the IHCT Club? What is that? I hate Carrie Tremeling Club?" Dustin asked.

"You got it," Wendy said. "She's a total bitch-backstabber, and it's finally coming back to her."

"I didn't notice," Dustin said. "I think she's pretty cool."

"That's 'cause you're a guy. She's nice to all the guys. I mean to all the guys. Try like Shelly's boyfriend. She's just trying to get all the boys to like her so she can be in charge of what the girls do. She spends like three hours on the phone a night," Wendy whined.

"Oh, and you don't?" Dustin contended.

"Yeah, well I'm not scheming and stuff. I'm just talking to my friends," Wendy replied.

"How do you know she's scheming? I always sensed she was at the heart of some giant conspiracy, but I was never certain," Dustin gibed.

"I just know. O.K.?" Wendy responded.

"That sounds pretty convincing to me. What evil is she plotting now?" Dustin maintained his sarcastic tone.

"Oh, never mind. Obviously you're blind to it," Wendy sighed, exasperated.

"O.K. Well, anyway, granted that she's conspiring to wreak some scourge or another, what is the IHCT thing?" Dustin asked.

"It's the I Hate Carrie Tremeling Club. Everyone who's in it writes IHCT on the back of their left hand in permanent black pen. See." Wendy shows Dustin her hand. "Then we all sit together at lunch," Wendy answered.

"How many people are in the Club?" Guillermo asked.

"About fifteen."

"So what's Carrie do at lunch when you're all sitting around despising her?" Dustin asked.

"I don't care what she does. She's got to find out somehow that she's being a bitch," Wendy said, indignant.

"I don't suppose you've talked to her at all or anything. I mean she used to be one of your best friends," Dustin said.

"Oh, quit being so fucking mature," Wendy reproached. "It's her own fault."

"So are you in the Club too, Darryl?" Guillermo asked.

Darryl held out her hand.

"All I can say is, I'm glad I'm not a girl," Dustin remarked, "You guys are vicious."

"It's only because she deserves it," Darryl finally spoke.

"So are you guys going to make an I Hate Dustin McGowan Club if I go around being nice to Carrie?" Dustin derided.

No answer.

"Ahh, how tenuous are the bonds of friendship," Dustin mused grandiloquently with a Shakespearean aspect. Somehow with this phrase he put the whole issue to sleep and reinstilled an easy bonhomie among the group.

Darryl abandoned her side-saddle and lied down on her stomach facing the group, with her chin propped on her hands.

"Why does Mrs. Bailey always give so much homework?" Darryl mouthed randomly. Her forehead bobbed as she spoke, and her jaw stayed even against her hands.

"I know. It's a heavy," Dustin mimicked Mrs. Bailey's accent and inflection. "Like telling us 'it's a heavy' makes it O.K. to give as much homework as she wants. This homework I'm giving you today should take between five and seven hours. Mmm, it's a ballpaak figure," Dustin mocked with Mrs. Bailey's characteristic slow shrug and pushed out bottom lip.

"Hey, did you guys hear about Mr. Fury?" Guillermo posed.

"No. What happened?" asked Wendy.

"I heard he's in the hospital. Someone said he's got colon cancer, but I also heard he's got AIDS and he doesn't want to admit it so he said he's got colon cancer," Guillermo said as if divulging a great secret.

"I like Mr. Fury," Darryl said. "He talks funny." Darryl had always been the witty one.

"That's too bad that he's sick," Wendy uttered, concerned. "Maybe we could send him some flowers at the hospital or something."

"O.K. I'll chip in if you want to buy them and deliver them. I'll even sign the card. But I don't really feel like going over to see him. I mean he's just our teacher," Dustin said matter-of-factly. "Serves him right for making us diagram sentences anyway. Wasting our youth in a classroom like that. It's disgusting," he added.

"I don't know. He means well though. He thinks it's helping us," Guillermo counterposed. "And the guy's sick. We should do something for him."

"I didn't say we shouldn't do anything for him. I just said I wasn't going to do the legwork. I'm right behind you guys though in principle," Dustin defended.

"Fine. We'll do all the shit, and you can just pay us when we're done. How's that?" Guillermo voiced with an edge.

"O.K.," Dustin said, "No need to get all hostile. If you guys don't want me to be a part of this that's fine. The important thing is for Mr. Fury to know that the students care." Dustin hopped the fence somehow with that last statement, but no one seemed to notice. Dustin was a good guy again.

"Can I have a have a brownie?" Darryl asked Wendy.

Wendy passed the plate.

The incense and late hour had addled all the seventh-graders' brains. The low din of Ted Nugent's Free For All crashed harmlessly against the bubble of drowsiness, warmth, and embryonic dreams that insulated the four kids. They reclined in their bubble with all the satisfaction of blithe unconcern.

They sat quietly for a few moments, not knowing this was a night they'd all still remember years later, except for Darryl, who became a telephone operator.

Guillermo moved closer to Wendy. They had been talking on the phone a lot lately, and everybody knew they were an item.

He asked her softly if she had gone shopping with her mom that day like she said she was going to. Wendy and Guillermo fell into a private conversation, and the group was now divided into pairs. Dustin was stuck with Darryl. Dustin didn't move any closer to her.

"Want another brownie?" Dustin asked lamely but what else could he say to her.

"No thanks," Darryl said tersely.

Dustin could see this was going to be a chore.

"How'd you do on that test in Clemensen's class?" Dustin continued lamely. He didn't care though. The point was just to pass time.

"I think I got a B. You mean the one with like the prepositions and stuff?"

"Yeah, the one we got back today," Dustin responded without too much disdain.

"Yeah. I thought it was pretty hard. I mean she didn't really teach us all that stuff in class, you know?"

"Yeah. You're right. I don't know how she thought we'd know all the new stuff," Dustin humored her. Everything on the test had been gone over in class.

"Are you going to the Burgess this Friday?" Darryl asked with uncharacteristic industriousness.

"Probably. That's what always happens. Are you?"

"Yeah."

"I heard there was some new guy from Encinal that you were all into," Dustin prodded.

"Who?" Darryl asked shocked. No one was supposed to know but her girl friends. Openly declaring affection for a boy was risque behavior at this age.

"I don't know. That guy, Jeff Wallstadter, or something like that."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Darryl blurted. She'd never been very smooth.

"Aha. Jeff Wallstadter it is, huh? So does he know you like him?" Dustin continued.

"Who told you?" Darryl demanded.

"I was just going to throw out names until you freaked on me," Dustin explained. Truthfully, Wendy had told Guillermo who told Dustin who would in turn share this with others, as was customary.

"What do you mean? You just guessed that it was Jeff?" Darryl asked incredulous.

"O.K. So it definitely is Jeff. You hadn't admitted it until just then. I still wasn't sure. Not until you said," Dustin disclosed to further antagonize her.

"I never said it was Jeff," Darryl insisted.

"O.K. I believe you," Dustin assured her with raised eyebrows.

"It's not Jeff. O.K.?" Darryl persisted.

"I know. It's some other guy, but it's not Jeff. I understand completely," Dustin promised with sugar-sweet insincerity.

During this conversation, Guillermo and Wendy had inconspicuously moved up onto the bed and were now lying next to each other talking.

Dustin glanced up and noticed. He caught Guillermo's eye and motioned toward the door, meaning "Should I leave?". Wendy saw him also.

"No. Don't go outside. My parents might hear you. Why don't you go in the closet?" Wendy suggested.

Oddly enough, this suggestion was received as sensible among all four of the group. Dustin and Darryl acquiesced without remonstrance. Darryl struggled up, slid open the closet door and slipped into the pitch black beyond. Dustin followed and moved the door almost shut behind him. After a few minutes their eyes adjusted somewhat to the darkness. Dustin could see Darryl's body sitting on the floor, back against the wall. Her head was lost in Wendy's dangling wardrobe.

Dustin sat parallel with the closet door, looking at Darryl. She didn't move. She just sat there. Dustin tried to come up with something to say.

"So why are you so embarrassed about this Jeff guy, Darryl?" Dustin asked curiously. He had no intention of being contentious. He was honestly interested.

"I don't really want to talk about it," Darryl said, but not curtly. She kept her head in the clothes when she spoke, muffling her voice.

Dustin could tell she'd fess up with a little coaxing.

"How come?" Dustin went on.

"I just don't, O.K."

The two were talking in whispers so as not to disturb Wendy and Guillermo.

"Well, does Jeff know you like him?" Dustin asked.

"No," emphatically. "That's why I don't want anyone to know, 'cause they'll tell him. Then I'll be all embarrassed."

"What if he likes you too?" Dustin offered.

"I don't know."

"You don't even want to find out, do you?"

"What do you mean?"

"'Cause if you found out he did like you, you wouldn't know what to do?"

"That's not true. I've had a boyfriend before," Darryl retorted.

"Oh, really. Who was that? Lionel in fifth grade? With the runny nose?" Dustin rebutted.

"Not just him. There was this guy, Johnny. At camp." Darryl struggled.

"So then why are you afraid of Jeff?"

"I'm not."

"Bullshit."

"Why do you care so much about this, anyway?" Darryl asked, her head still in hidden behind drooping sundresses and hanging jeans.

"I don't care all that much. I just think you should suck it up and let Jeff know you like him," Dustin said.

"Well, he's probably going to find out anyway now that everyone knows," Darryl whined.

Dustin leaned back and peeked out the opening he had left in the closet door. Wendy and Guillermo lay kissing on the bed. The incense stick had almost burned out, and the stereo still buzzed.

Darryl's infatuation with this Jeff character ruled out Dustin's chance for any action tonight. Not that he really had any chance anyway. But when you're in a dark closet, it's late, the girl's in her nightgown, you can't help but give it some thought. Even if you try not to, it comes creeping in like a cloaked bandit.

Dustin vanquished the bandit and then stayed silent. He figured he'd carried his load of the conversation. If Darryl wanted to talk she could. If not, he'd just wait another couple of minutes and then tell Wendy and Guillermo he was coming out.

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