When her parents had gone, Billie joined Corky on the sofa, and took his hands in hers. "They won't be home until after 11:00, maybe midnight," Billie said, "so we won't have to worry about a thing until then."
Corky replied, "Billie, I can't begin to tell you how special you make me feel. I sometimes have to pinch myself to be sure you're not a dream. It's so pleasant just to share your company, you know?"
"I'm glad," she said. "I thought for a while there you were never going to kiss me," and giggled. "I practically had to ask you to. Remember?"
Corky blushed, and confessed the loneliness of his high school years, and his utter inexperience with girls. Now, when it mattered most, he felt like an idiot and didn't know what to do or what to say half the time. Billie was deeply moved, and gave him a hug. Corky returned the hug, and the silence comforted.
Billie rose and faced Corky from the middle of the room, judging by the sound of her movements. She said, "I know just what you need. You need a teacher."
"I need a teacher? I have lots of teachers."
"Yes, but you still need a teacher. A girl teacher."
"Do girls make the best teachers?" he asked with amusement.
"It's not that, what I was thinking was, you probably have an English teacher, a history teacher, a math teacher, and a teacher for things I can't even imagine, but you don't have a girl teacher, someone to teach you about girls, and how to be with them."
"Sounds great, but where do I get a girl teacher?" Corky replied with interest.
"You will probably think I'm way too bold, but what if I was your girl teacher? I mean, I'm no big expert or anything, in fact I'm pretty average in most ways, but I'd really like to have a shot at it.""
"Billie, I would love that, but why would you want to?"
"Well, I already told you, when we are together, I just enjoy looking at you a lot. I love how you touch things so gently, and move around so carefully, and listen so closely to things. Sometimes I think to myself that you mostly have to just imagine looking at me, or looking at other girls, and that makes me so sad for you."
"Me too,believe me, it makes me sad too," Corky replied. "Sometimes I want to look at girls so bad it almost hurts."
"But you really do sort of 'look at things and see them', you just do it with your hands instead of your eyes, right?"
"Well, that's true. Sometimes when I touch things I imagine they light up, like they come out of the dark and become almost visible, at least for a little while. But you don't just go around touching what you want to look at, especially girls."
"You mean to tell me," said Billie, "you never touched a girl in your whole life?"
Blushing again, Corky replied, "Not really. Except maybe when you and I touch a little. Or maybe when I bump into a girl once in a while. In the seventh grade they made us learn to dance the Fox Trot, even though most of us didn't want to. I must have touched some girls then, but I can't remember."
"So you really don't even know what girls look like, right? I mean grown up girls, women, not just seventh grade kids?"
"Well," Corky said a little defensively, I read books, and Guys talk about girls, and I have a good imagination."
"But I bet your books don't have pictures, and the average guy doesn't know beans about girls, believe me. And not feeling free to touch, that's got to change right away, or you'll never learn about girls. You better just come over here and braille me, or however you say it. Nobody is watching, and I won't mind. But you just have to know what girls look like before we go any farther. Remember, I'm your teacher, and that's your first assignment."
Billie suddenly realized that Corky's imagination might be pretty well developed, and it could possibly lead to disappointment when he compared his mental picture of her to the real physical her, but it was too late to back out now.
Billie continued, "If this doesn't work, and things get too weird for either of us, we'll just quit, okay?"
"That's a deal, but I'll do my assignments and try for an A!"
Corky rose and moved toward the sound of Billie's voice. He found her easily, standing with arms stretched out to the side. They were both a little nervous about this. Billie was not sure what she would do if Corky got really crude and took advantage of her offer to touch her, maybe even heading right for home plate. She didn't want to have to tell him, "no, no, not there!" but she would, if he went too far, too fast.
Corky slid his hands out to her fingertips, then back to her sides, close to where he assumed her breasts must be, and slid them slowly down. He noticed the inward dip of her waist, and the ballooning of her hips, as the texture of her sweater gave way to that of her skirt. He continued down over her thighs and her stocking clad calves to her feet. Were those penny loafers? Her sweater was loose fitting, and her skirt was daringly short for the day, ending just above the knees. And with only that quick scan, Corky seemed satisfied.
Billie thought to herself, "Was that it? Is he through already? Maybe he didn't like what he saw! What do I do now?"
"Billie, you are truly beautiful!" Corky said, standing up and taking her hands in his own.
"Don't I wish!" she replied, with a grin as wide as the Grand Canyon. "But I'm really only average. I'm five foot three, and you must be what, about six feet?"
"Yes, Exactly, without my shoes."
"And you didn't see my hair. Did you know that girls have hair?" she said laughingly.
"Forgive me. I forgot.," and Corky gently examined her hair, noticing how it came to shoulder length with a gentle curl. "You are a brunette, right?"
"Amazing!" Billie exclaimed. "How can you tell?"
Blushing, Corky replied, "Well, it's just a statistical thing. I read that most people are brunettes, with a small number being blondes and an even smaller number with red hair. So I just played the odds."
"You stinker! You played the odds?" Billie said, "you sure had me fooled. And here I thought you had some magic third eye or something. Statistics! That's terrible!" but she was laughing.
