After we were done, Katie suggested that we go out on the town, and that I pick her clothes.I agreed, but we would have to go to her place first to have options. We got dressed quickly (both of us eschewing underwear), gobbled up the crisp, dry bacon, and left the apartment. We walked to the elevator and got in with Mrs. Culairen and her young son, Tommy. Tommy stood beside Katie, nearly at eye level with the bottom of her short skirt. I wasn't paying much attention at first, but shortly after the lift started moving I noticed the little guy lifting up the back of my girlfriend's skirt and looking underneath.I looked at my girlfriend's face; she was facing me with an awkward, shocked look that said "Do you see what this kid is doing? What the fuck, right?" I looked over at Mrs. Culairen, who was on her phone the whole time and was still unaware of her kid's misconduct. I grinned at Katie and whispered into her ear: "Let him look. Curiosity is very healthy." And when I said "very" I. It was one gi-normous party.The only dark spot of the evening was a "slut" thrown in my direction by someone I'd seen around school lately but didn't know. I grabbed Greg's arm to keep him from defending my honor. It wasn't worth a fight, wasn't the first time I'd caught that insult. There was a faction at school -- in town, for that matter -- that had always opposed The Program and it seemed to be growing bolder and more vocal. As chair of the committee I was an obvious and highly visible target, but I was more concerned about what it meant for The Program than myself.All that was forgotten as a whole gang of us -- my Lunch Bunch and their dates, those of the Dirty Dozen still in middle school and other friends -- spread blankets and snuggled together against the cool breeze on the shore of the lake, listening to music, then counting down, our voices echoing across the water, the new year ushered in by booming, blossoming fireworks that we hardly saw as we kissed, and kissed, and.
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