David and I return to the hotel room and lie down on our respective beds. I find it odd when he reaches over the space between our beds and takes my hand again. I look over at him and see him smiling at me. I lower my eyes, finding that a blush is creeping over my skin, and that his stare sends goose bumps over me. The sun is setting behind me, and I hope that my faces' new color becomes hidden among the setting sun's bright and beautiful rays.
"You're beautiful, you know that?"
I blink and raise my eyes to his. "What did you say?"
"I said, 'I think you're beautiful, Rose Radcliffe'. I think you're crazy, but so brilliant, and you do stupid things sometimes, but everybody does."
I sigh and sit up, pulling my hand from his and run my hands through my hair. I had forgotten about the abundance of hairspray keeping my thick locks in place, and I recoil and make a disgusted sound. "I've got to wash this out," I say, shaking my head. "And then I've got to write a letter to a government official banning this stuff."
"Why?" asks David. "The girls use it for hair; the guys use it to get high. What could be better?"
I fix him with a look and shake my head at him. "Guys use it for their hair, too, and I'm sure a girl has used it to get high."
I scoot off the bed and walk over to the bathroom. Instead of undressing, I merely run a brush through my hair and adjust my makeup. I scurry out of the bathroom and grab my purse, and notice that David has a confused expression on his face. I throw up my hand in what seems to be the national symbol for wait and hasten out of the room. I thought I heard an ice cream truck on the walk home and, sure enough, there is one just down the block from the hotel, which is currently being swarmed with children. As I near the truck, I see that it has Good Humor stamped to the side. I slip into the crowd and patiently wait my turn.
A man with a small cap perched on his gray hair with an equally gray mustache smiles at me. "What can I get for you, miss?" he asks.
"Um, one with almonds and one plain?" I ask with slight hesitation, removing a five dollar bill from my wallet.
The man smiles and reaches behind him in what appears to be a freezer and takes out the bars. "Dollar-fifty," he says.
I don't blink at the price and merely take the bars and hand over the five willingly. I don't know how difficult it is to keep a job like this, nor do I know how much these people actually make. When he gets me three dollars and fifty cents, which should have been my change, I shake my head at him. "Keep the change, sir," I say, flashing him a smile.
"Are you sure, miss...?"
"Radcliffe," I reply. "It's Rose Radcliffe, but please keep the change."
He blinks, lowering his eyes to the five-dollar bill, now in his hands. "Seems like you've turned over a new leaf, Miss Radcliffe," he says in an odd tone, before turning to service another customer.
I blink but merely walk patiently through the crowd, back down the block, and up the stairs to the second floor of the hotel. I am biting my lip by the time I return to the room itself and unlock the door. I see David sitting on the edge of the bed, obviously awaiting my return. No sooner have I locked the door back behind me and handed him the bar of frozen chocolate than are his arms around me in a protective grip.
"David?" I ask.
"Yes?" he whispers in a throaty voice.
I sigh, pleased to be crushed against him, but not wanting my money to go to waste. "You're about to smash my ice cream bar," I say softly.
"Sorry," David says quickly, stepping back and pulling me after him so as I am sitting beside him on the bed. He unwraps his bar and shuts his eyes in a momentary wave of pleasure at the taste of the sweet treat.
I unwrap my bar and take a bit, chewing it slowly. "I'm surprised that you like my company, after everything," I say quietly.
"Why?" he asks with his mouth full.
I make a face at him and take another bite of my bar and swallow it. "Because of something the ice cream man said..."
"What did he do?" David demands then, his hands forming a fist and tightening around his ice cream bar's wrapper.
I take the wrapper from his hand and toss it into the trash can along with my wrapper. "Just something he said is all..."
"What did he say?" David presses.
I sigh and shake my head at him. "I don't know. I guess something tells me that Rose had a bit of a bad reputation around here..."
"Why do you say that?" David wants to know.
I finish my ice cream bar and rub my temples, wanting to get theories out of my head for one evening, but knowing full well that they couldn't be absent, decided to just lie back and accept them filtering in at all hours. "I just think that Rose might have done something..."

"Something like...?" David asks.

I shake my head and begin to chew absentmindedly on the ice cream bar's stick. "I justifiably can't answer that, to be honest with you," I reply. "I mean, maybe there's a reason that I never met her in person, and about how phone calls had to 'suffice' or something, but my parents would always get nervous whenever I mentioned her, as if she did something, I don't know, against the law or something..."

David puts his hand under my chin, raising my face to his, and I find my lips parting then, a momentary gasp escaping them. He makes no move to turn away from me, nor does he release me visually or physically. We sit in silence for a few moments, merely staring at each other, content in each other's company, and the solitude of this 1982 hotel room.

He looks as if he wants to say something, something meaningful, and then he does. "Rose, I know you know how I feel. I know you think that it doesn't mean anything, but..."
I lower my eyes. "David, please. It's nothing..."

"It's something... Please. Just hear me out."

"Okay," I say at last, knowing that this could make or break anything and everything that we have between us. "Talk."

"It's not nothing, Rose..."

"Okay...?"

"It's everything," he whispers. "It's everything to me. All of it."
Then he is kissing me, and I've thrown my ice cream bar's stick away—if by it slipping from my fingers, such a thing counts—and throw my arms around his neck. There are quick fluttering movements in my belly as this all sinks in, like a butterfly's wings. I find myself molding to him, almost as if we are two halves of the same whole. I have never felt more complete in my life as I do then, and I do not verbally or physically object when David begins to unbutton my blouse.
I hear a zipper made that classic unzipping noise, and find that I am the one making it, and then his pants are down and around his ankles. He kicks them across the room and unbuttons his shirt as I shrug out of my blouse. Then I am lying beneath him in only my undergarments, mini skirt, and my shoes and padded socks. He then rolls me on top of him for a moment and I accidentally hit the radio, turning on Africa by Toto.
It is almost as if the radio is encouraging us along, for David suddenly is in control again as he rolls back on top of me. I find that I am gripping tightly to him, almost as if my life and very existence depended on it. And then he is pulling down my mini skirt and I am still not making any moves to stop him. And then I'm naked beneath him, as he is on top of me.
It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you. There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do. I bless the rains down in Africa. Gonna take some time to do the things we never had..., the cheap radio gently blasts out from behind me.
"It's true," David whispers, leaning down and caressing my neck with his lips. I find my eyes rolling back and shutting automatically on a wave of pleasure. My arms still do not release him, but they unhook from around his neck and travel down his back, and I find that I begin to scratch it.
"W-what's true?" I whisper, hoping that I'm not hurting him as my fingers continue to roughly caress his back.
"It would take a lot to drag me away from you," David whispers, hit hot breath sending chills all throughout my body.
I chuckle. "What? Because I'm clawing you?" I ask.
David sighs, and then, it happens. The thing that changes me from his sister's best friend, from his partner in crime, from his fake girlfriend, from his trainee against bullies... There is such a long list, given the history between us. Virgin would probably be another adjective to fall into that category, describing me, of course. I just can't believe that that word virgin doesn't apply to me anymore. I wonder who would have thought—me and David having sex in 1982 in a hotel room? Well, at least there would be some confusion to society and family members as to when I actually lost my virginity. Was it 1982—the year it happened? Or was it 2013—the year that David and I came from?

"Hurry boy, she's waitingthere for you..." I whisper, and then I am singing, something I had vowed neverto let anyone hear. "It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you. There'snothing a hundred men or more could ever do. I bless the rains down in Africa,I bless the rains down in Africa, I bless the rains down in Africa, I bless therains down in Africa. Gonna take some time to do the things we never had..."
David is staring at me, an awestruck look on hisface. "Rose..."
"Yes?" I say, whispering again.
He smiles down at me. "You sing, too."
I shrug. "I guess..."
And then we did not leave that hotel room untilthe next morning.