"They drove down to Hyannis Port to have dinner with some people."
"Oh," he said. He went back into the kitchen and opened the icebox. He took out a bottle of milk and a piece of chocolate cake and put them on the table.
He drank the milk from the bottle and ate the cake with his fingers.
It wasn't until after he had finished that he remembered he'd promised himself he wouldn't touch any sweets in hopes that his skin would clear up. He sat there in a kind of lethargy.
He heard the bathroom door slam and footsteps leading back to Rina's room.
Idly he wondered what she was doing home at this time of the afternoon.
Usually she was down at the beach already with her giggling bunch of silly girl friends.
Maybe Tommy was right.
She was growing up.
Certainly the way she brazenly sat there on the raft with her boobs half hanging out and letting them goggle at her didn't make her seem like a kid.
Tommy was right about one thing, though. They were bigger than his cousin's.
A picture of Rina sitting on the raft flashed through his mind: the way she looked at them while they looked at her; her hair falling wet and straight to her shoulders, her lower lip pouting and kind of heavy.
He felt a familiar heat surge through him. He half groaned aloud.
Oh, no, not again. He'd promised himself after the last time, he'd stop.
He got to his feet abruptly.
He wouldn't do it this time.
He picked up the empty plate and put it in the sink, then walked out of the kitchen and started up the stairs.
He'd grab a cold shower and then beat it out to the beach.
Rina's room was opposite the head of the staircase and the door was partly open.
He was almost halfway up when the light spilling from her room caught his eye.
There was a movement inside the room and he stopped on the staircase, his heart pounding.
Slowly he sank to his knees so that only his eyes were above the top of the landing.
Rina had just crossed the room and was standing in front of the mirror, her back to the door, clad only in a brassiere and a pair of bloomers.
While he watched, she reached behind her and unfastened the brassiere, then, half turning, stepped out of the bloomers.
Holding them in her hand, she crossed the room and came back in a moment, carrying a bathing suit.
She paused again in front of the mirror and stepped into the suit. Slowly she pulled it up over her breasts and straightened the shoulder straps.
He felt faint beads of perspiration across his forehead.
This was the first time he had ever seen a grown-up girl completely naked.
He had never thought they could be so beautiful and exciting.
Walking quietly, he passed her room and went into his own. He closed the door and sank, still trembling, to the bed.
For a long moment, he sat there, the pain of the heat surging inside him bending him almost double.
Slowly he reasoned with himself.
No. He mustn't. Not again.
If he gave in to it now, he would always give in to it.
At last, he began to feel better. He wiped his forehead with his arm and got to his feet.
All you needed was a little self-control and determination.
He began to feel proud of himself.
What he had to do was remove himself from all kinds of temptation. That meant everything. Even the French pictures he had bought from the candy store down in Lobstertown.
Quickly he opened a dresser drawer and burrowing underneath a broken slat, came out with the pictures.
He placed them on the dresser drawer face down. He wouldn't even look at them one last time.
He'd flush them down the toilet when he went in to take his shower.
He undressed rapidly and put on his bathrobe. He walked back to the dresser and caught a glimpse of his face in the mirror.
It was filled with a noble resolve.
It was amazing how quickly resolution could reflect itself.
He turned and left the room, forgetting the pictures that lay on the dresser.
He was drying himself in front of the mirror when he heard her footsteps turn down the hall to his room.
Suddenly, he froze as he remembered. The pictures were still on the dresser.
He grabbed for the bathrobe on the door behind him.
It was too late.
When he got to his room, she was standing near the dresser, the pictures in her hand.