I nodded and gestured up at the pavilion. "Want a sandwich, or a soda?"

"No, I don't think so." Suddenly her eyes caught me and wouldn't let go. "You didn't ask me to meet you here so we could talk about Daddy, Paul. And something's bothering you lately, I know."

Her voice was gentle, but I was familiar enough with that look to know she wasn't going to put up with any dodging. "What is it, Paul?"

I concentrated some more on the water, and took a deep enough breath to force out the words. "Julie, I don't think we should see each other any more." The quiet got more quiet. I kept my eyes on the water and tried to picture what her face might be doing.

There was no expression in her voice at all. "Because of Marty, Paul?" My stomach muscles got ready to tie knots. "Why do you say that?"

Her voice tried to be casual, but gave it up after a few words. "Oh, I don't know. It's just that you seemed somehow different after we met him at Karen's party, and even more so since he's moved into your apartment. You've been . . . uneasy with me."

I thought she had stopped, but the rest came out in a quick whisper. "I thought you had . . . found something you'd been looking for."

The knots were there now. Tight and hard. If there were any alternate meanings, I couldn't see them. The words came out fast, almost like I had to tell her before she told me. "I suppose you might put it like that. I'm homosexual, Julie." I did look at her then, ready for the quick flicker of horror, or at the very least, of disgust. I thought I knew everything her face could do, but I couldn't read the expression on it now.

She nodded. "I know, Paul."

I must have shown dismay, because she almost smiled. "Don't be alarmed; I'm sure the whole world hasn't guessed. But I knew there was . . . something... right from the beginning. There was never a big flash of realization; never one thing that made me decide I knew what it was. Just gradual, growing awareness. I can't remember when I was sure, consciously, but I guess by that time I had prepared myself to accept it.

"The night we met Marty, I recall liking him at first I talked to him, remember?-before I introduced him to you. Then I started to feel something 'clicking' between the two of you. It was almost like interlocking wheels dropping into place. You don't know how I resented him then."

"And now?"

She shrugged wearily. "It would be impossible for anyone to dislike Marty very long. His greatest charm is that he doesn't know how much natural charm he has. He just likes people, the possibility of their not liking him never occurs to him, so it never happens."

I was puzzled. "If you've known, why have you kept on seeing me?"

Her smile this time had no amusement in it at all. "Why have you kept on seeing me for so long?" She didn't wait for an answer I wouldn't have been able to give. "I guess we just found it. . . easier, Paul. Much easier. This thing of our being together all the time seemed to start without either of us intending it; without our even knowing, at first, that it was happening. Maybe we both just needed someone to talk to; to share things with, and we each found we could do that with the other.

"We think of ourselves as 'loners' and we like it that way, but no one's really a loner not all the way. There has to be somebody . . ." she let it go without finishing.

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