destroyed the illusion of calm by falling over her desk. With the usual lack of concern that only a teenager can display, few noticed this fog of confusion surrounding the girl. Halfway through the class she asked almost inaudibly for an infirmary pass. In our school if one felt sick, it was possible to be excused from class and brave the infirmary nurse. If she felt you were ill she would cluck a little over you, then allow you to lie down on an iron cot in a darkened room which held three of these cots. I don't really know why I was possessed to do this, but after chemistry class I went to my next class and immediately asked for an infirmary pass. I managed to convince the rather dubious nurse that I was half dead and in a few moments I was lying on a hard iron cot a foot or two from the girl from my chemistry class.

A few moments of silence followed the nurse's departure. Holding my breath a little I turned on my side to face the girl next to me She sobbed soundlessly for about five minutes and during that time I gathered courage and leaning near her I whispered her name and asked her what was the matter and if I could help. She didn't reply for a full minute or more and when she did reply her vehemence and bitterness shocked me almost to tears.

"Leave me alone, nobody can help me! Nobody knows me, nobody loves me, nobody ever will, I'm a damned queer!"

The finality of this statement didn't leave room for conversation or comment, so after nearly an hour of the most uncomfortable, guilty silence I have ever endured I got up and left the infirmary.

We never spoke or even allowed our eyes to meet for the rest of the school year. I never saw the older girl near the school again. About three months ago I saw both of them walking leisurely down a street less than 20 feet

from me. They looked very happy. My former classmate was even lovelier as an adult than she had been at 16.

By the way, the incident in the infirmary took place seven years ago. It seems somebody knew her, loved her and helped her after all.

-Vern Nivon