Yes and No

He tasted like whiskey.
It was so crispy cold outside, the kind that makes you skin pink and numb before you realize you can't feel your fingers.  The hours I spent meticulously setting my pin curls were lost as my waves rebelled and began to trickle down the back of my neck; too much dancing and not enough setting spray will do that to a gal.  He leaned over with that whiskey breath and his words tickled my ears,
"Let's go sugar, there's a full moon outside."  He didn't wait for an answer, but pulled my wrap over my shoulders and gently steered me out the back door.
The shivers could have been from the cold or the contents of the half-empty flask in his coat pocket, but the most likely culprit seemed the hand now settled snugly about my waist as we headed down the lake shore.
There was indeed a magnificent moon holding court over the cold midwest landscape, somewhere far away another couple was laughing, probably Vicki and Ronnie at it again.  I swear, if our parents only knew what we got up to at these fraternity socials...
A behemoth loomed out of the darkness, a rock that must have stood there since the beginning of time, or at least since the founding of our distant school. It had become the staged setting for many student's evening's trysts.  He took the wool coat that was so casually draped over his arm and spread it, and then with one smooth movement lifted me to perch slightly unsteadily atop the cold stone.  I couldn't see his eyes in the dark, but I could feel them piercing me to my core.
"Is this all right? You're not too cold are you?"  I shivered again, but I couldn't tell if it was the wind across the lake or his breath against my neck.  He was so slow, so deliberate that I could hear myself thinking as if my thoughts were spoken word.
He's so handsome, so very dark and mysterious.  I wonder what he expects me to do, tilt my head back perhaps, sigh just so... is that too much I wonder?  Maybe he thinks I'm fast, that I've done this before.  But I haven't.  I haven't and I don't know what I'm doing but he's perfect.  God, he is perfect.  Without trying, some of those last words do escaped my lips.
"Oh God!"
His hand was on my thigh now, exploring ever upwards, questing fingers tickled my gooseflesh skin. This is the part, in the pictures, where the debutante falls deep into embrace and then everything fades away, dissolves into the next plot point.  But here, there was no fading.  Only one hand searching ever higher, his other tugging at his belt; then with easy practice both sliding down his trousers and unhooking my garter belt in one slick move.  I gasped and recoil involuntarily, not ready for such exposure.  He notices.
"You all right sweetheart?  Not going to leave me in this state, are you?"  I looked up at him there, from my half prone position on the cold rock.
Calvin Greene, the most popular boy in school- president of the top fraternity and probably future president of the United States as well- or at least a moving picture star.  He looked annoyed, almost angry at my slight movement of resistance.  I could say no... and what?  Go back to the social?  He would probably put me in a cab straight back to campus.  Or I could stay here...Everyone saw me leave.  They would assume the outcome, even if it didn't come to fruition.  It was so easy to throw away, after all: a girl's virtue.
I grabbed his collar with both of my hands, the way I had seen Vicki seize Ronnie's earlier and kissed him as thoroughly as I knew how.  Temporary annoyance gone, he returned to the task at hand with gusto.
My legs were up over his shoulders before I knew it, and then...the oddest sensation.  Wasn't it supposed to hurt this time?  The older girls in my sorority had tried to scare us, saying it felt like being stabbed with a red hot poker.
It wasn't like that at all. It was the strangest thing, but it didn't feel particularly bad, or particularly good either.  I had the sudden urge to cover up all my exposed bits, but I thought I should probably keep up a good show, encourage him along.  I arched my back, feeling my dress catch on a jagged bit of granite as I did. He didn't notice, his eyes were closed and his head was thrown back in his own carnal pleasure.  And then, with one final grunt it was over.  He ran his fingers through his hair and leisurely pulled his trousers back.  I curled in onto myself, letting one of my own hands catch a stray curl, twisting it around and around and around my finger.  He paused tucking his shirt in to look down at me.
"Well get dressed sweetheart, we'll miss the walk back to campus if we don't leave soon."
The walk back to campus, of course.  My fingers were shaking so badly that I couldn't get my garter clip on the back of my stockings; I ended up putting a hole straight through them.  Finally, I stood, as prepared to run the gauntlet of fraternity jeers as I ever would be.  I had hoped to take his arm, but his hands were thrust deep into his pockets and he carefully kept a distance between us as we picked our way back across the shore.  As we reached the last few steps before leaving the lake behind, he turned and looked at me.
"You know this doesn't mean that we're going steady, right?  You understand that."  I nodded, wordless, and followed him back up path.
*****
It's been two months.  That beautiful clear december night was just two months ago, but I swear it must have been a millennia.  The doctor says that by April, I'll have to tell, I won't be able to keep this secret anymore.  But it's all right, because in the last two months I've been thinking, and in the last two hours I've made my decision.  Calvin is at dinner right now, but he will be home by six.  He's always home by six.  That's when I used to visit him in his room, he used to tell me to come over to help him study- but ever since that night at the lake he's stopped asking.
The first week of January term I went past the Phi Kappa Psi house to bring them a pudding I had made.  I could have left it in the parlor and gone back out the front door, but I thought perhaps I should bring it to the kitchen; and besides what did it matter if Cal's room was on the way and he saw me deliver it, anyway?  Well, it didn't matter because he didn't see.  He was sitting by the window, and there was a brunette with a bob sitting next to him with her notes scattered debonairly across the desk.  I left, red faced.  What did he want with Isabelle?  Everyone knew she was fast trash.  It wasn't until I was back in my room that I realized that I was fast trash now, too.
By the middle of the month I knew, but I had little idea of what to do with that information.  But now...now my decision is made.  My reflection in the mirror of my vanity is pale, but I've applied enough rouge to perhaps conceal my inner turmoil.  I pause, and then pick up my siren red lipstick.  I might as well look the part.
He is in his room, but thank god he's alone.  I knock and smile, seeing a half confused half wary look in his eyes.
"Hey sugar, what have you been getting yourself up to lately?"
"Oh nothing much, we've got the new girls, you know- they'll be getting their pledge mothers soon,;and I've got Professor Riley this semester, he's tough as nails." I'm babbling, and we both know it.  He's nodding politely, ever the perfect gentlemen, and I can feel my color rising.
"Well listen, Sweetheart, I would love to chat but I've actually got some physics sets to do before tuesday..."
"Actually Cal, I'm not here to talk about Professor Riley.  I'm pregnant, Cal."  He freezes, his hand caught halfway through his normally suave hair flick.  Twenty excruciating seconds of silence, and then,
"You're sure?"  Those two words packed with my worst fears.  Doubt and disbelief.
"Cal, if I wasn't sure I wouldn't be talking to you right now."  His face has gone ashen, but somehow he is still grinning.
"That's a good question actually Sweetheart, why are you here?"
"What?"  God, how can he be smiling right now?
"Why are you here talking to me?  What do I have to do with any of this?" I can't be hearing him right.  Those words can't be coming out of his mouth.  Dear lord, it wasn't supposed to go this way.
"You've got everything to do with this!  Without you, I wouldn't be in this...situation."
"Oh, Sweetie, your situation is your own problem.  You should have thought about all this before you said yes that night."
"But I didn't say yes, Cal.  I never said yes because you never asked me.  Even if you had asked me, do you think I could have said no?"  He shrugs, and turns away.  His next words come as he stoops to sweep his textbooks into his bag.
"I can't even be sure it's my problem at all.  If you're willing to open your legs for me, who knows how many others there are."
"You KNOW that there haven't been any others.  Good God this campus is small enough that you know everyone's business without trying so long as you're not deaf, dumb and blind!" He turns, looking sadly bemused at my distress.
"You're not Greta Garbo Sweetheart, passionate outbursts don't suit you.  I've got to get to class, but I think it's best if we don't see much of each other anymore.  I've got a future to think about."
He's gone, and I'm lost.

There is a clinic in Cleveland; they'll do the procedure without asking questions and with minimal scarring.  I should go, I should make the appointment before it's too late.  In my mind I'm walking back to my dormitory, but before I know it my feet have led me astray and I'm staring at the silvery gray glass of the lake's surface.  A future to think about.  He's got a future to think about.  What about my future?  It's my fault I suppose.  That's what they'll say at least. I shouldn't have accepted the invitation, everyone knows that when Phi Psi's invite you to their formals, they mean business.  But he was so sweet, so sincere...somehow despite everything I still feel guilty.  But it shouldn't be my fault!  He knew what he was doing, knew it the whole time, he created a world where I couldn't say no even when I didn't want to say yes.  I kick a rock with all my strength and it skips away, disappearing in the lake into rings of concentric circles.
It's all over now.  One way or another, this will be the definition of who I am for the rest of my life.  A few moments on the rocks, and a man who makes it impossible to say no.  Unless...

It's February and the water that's washing over my toes is freezing, numbing them almost instantly.  Once the water is up to my knees I can't stop my teeth from clacking together, no matter how stubbornly I clench my jaw.  I'm holding my skirts up, but soon I'll either have to drop them and let the water soak it's way up my thighs, or I'll have to turn around.  I'm still standing there, indecisive, when a breeze begins to blow across the shore.  Turning my face to the wind I involuntarily let slip the fabric, and the tendrils of ice water are creeping up to my stomach before I can think.  The lake is wide but shallow, I'm a quarter of a mile out before it gets to my waist. I plunge further on, barley noticing that my shivering has stopped.  I've been submerged for nearly three quarters of an hour and everything is starting to feel warm again.  I splash with my fingers, enjoying the patterns the droplets make.  It's beautiful out here at the center of this wet world; it's fitting to be alone surrounded only by the hard elements of nature.  Glancing down at my blue skin, it takes some minutes to register something much darker spreading out around my skirts.  My hands are unwieldy blocks now, they don't move the way I think they should but I mange to press my fingers up beneath my skirt, and they come away scarlet.  No, it can't be true.  It's my cold addled brain playing tricks on me, it can't be true.  But the blood keeps swirling determinedly away, unceasingly real.
I'm trying to move now, trying to shift my feet but my legs have stopped cooperating.  I fall and come out with soaking hair.  How far away is the shore, half a mile?  How long have I been in here?  I can't conceptualize time anymore.  All I know is the fiery sting of cold.  Plunging doggedly onward, it isn't until I'm less than a hundred yards away that I realize even if I can make it back to shore walking on pins and needles, campus is still two miles away.  There are few cars on the road in February, my clothes are soaked and the wind is picking up.
In the same moment I realize that I'm not going to make it, and that I have to try.
Onward.  One step, two steps.  The lake is blue and bright and the sky is cold and deep.  No, that's not right.  Grey lake, cold lake, blue sky.  Clear.  So clear.  My fingers are chattering and my teeth is numb and I said no.  I did say no.  But I also said yes.  I said yes, and I said no, and now I am a debutante.  I am Greta Garbo and the lake is embracing me and I am going to fade, fade, fade.  Fade to.  Fade away.