"Lauren, I just don't like the idea of your going off for the night to celebrate a pagan holiday."

"But Mom..." She only had to keep talking until Samantha showed up.

"Don't 'But, Mom, ' me."

"Mother," said Lauren, swallowing the "but." "You said that I could go. It's Samantha, for goodness sakes. The boys would laugh themselves silly if we chickened out now. They camp there all the turnings of the year. They do it on the winter solstice."

"It's still awfully cold up there."

"We'll have one of those 'space blanket' things, and a tent. Wrap a person tight in a space blanket, and they'll burn to death from their own body heat."

"Who told you that?"

"Dunno. Hal or Sam. I'm sure that they didn't try for themselves, but Lance and Hal went up there in the middle of December. Remember the cold snap? They've done it for years. Their parents trusted them to look after each other when Lance was maybe ten. Why do boys get to do things, and girls don't?" Mom was a feminist when it suited her.

Her mother's look meant that she knew what game Lauren was playing. "Well, I never said that you couldn't. I just said that it was silly. And sounds pagan, too."

"It isn't pagan. It's astronomical. It's just that people knew those simple facts long before Christianity. If you want pagan, look at Easter eggs. The solstice happens to be an important date of the solar year."

The discussion (her mother insisted that they didn't have arguments) ended as Lauren knew it would. Sam honked for her in the driveway. Lauren shoved her sleeping bag and other necessities in the back seat of Sam's shocking pink Suburban and climbed into the front seat beside her. They were off. The boys in their jeep, with the spaceblanket and tent, turned in behind them just before they got to the expressway.

"I'm really grateful to you for covering for me," Sam began. She was watching the car ahead, but she knew this part of the route.

"Hey! What are friends for?" Lauren answered. She was glad to cover for her friend, but she was looking forward to the time with Harold as well. "A little nervous?"

"Naw! Not a little nervous. Absolutely petrified, maybe. Actually, all this worry -- about my mother's finding out or your mother's pulling the plug -- saves me from worrying about the main event."

After a pause, Samantha laughed.

"What's so funny?" Lauren asked. At least, Sam was coming out of her funk. Lauren's first time was going to be fun, and she would damn-well wait until it would be. Would it be with Harold? She couldn't picture anyone else, but he wasn't her first boyfriend. Nor was she Hal's first girlfriend by a long shot; he was in college and an experienced man, however often she called him a boy to her mother. Was Hal willing to wait until it would be fun for her?

"Remember a few years ago? Seen any little kids recently? The reason they really envy adults is that adults get to stay up instead of going to bed." They shared the laugh.

When they got to the turnoff into the park, Sam got out, Lauren scooted into the driver's seat, and Hal got in. Sam walked back to join Lance in Hal's jeep. "The things you'll do for a friend, hey?" Hal said.

"And you'll do for a brother." She watched the road ahead as the car bumped along.

"Yeah, spending an entire evening with a pretty girl when I could be home studying thermo. But no sacrifice is too great for my brother's happiness."

"It's no real sacrifice to spend the time with a handsome man, either." Harold wasn't really handsome; but one compliment deserved the other, she not being really pretty. His face was definitely masculine, however, a little blocky, a few scars left over from acne, eyebrows like a hedge. Although you could see the family resemblance, Lance had almost androgynous good looks.

Harold definitely had the family hands, though. Lance's were the envy of the orchestra, but Hal's fingers were several millimeters longer. "Totally wasted on an engineer," she and Sam had agreed. Lauren was no longer so sure of that. He had evoked some delightful feelings with those fingers. There was more to life, not that she could tell Sam this, than music.

"Coming up," said Hal. She saw the turn onto the rutted dirt road. Soon, they had bumped as far as they could go. The jeep stopped behind them and Lance and Sam got out.

Hal walked back and took a rope and some tools from the jeep. "Don't try the path until we get it roped up," he said. Honestly, you would think that she and Sam were tourists. Still, she waited in the car. First day of summer or not, it was chilly out there.

Working together, Lance and Hal hammered pitons into the rock beside the path. Then they tied a rope to the pitons as a handrail. They sometimes held on to the rope when they took the tent and spaceblanket up.

When the boys were near the vehicles at the end of their second descent, Lauren got out of the car. She pulled her sleeping bag and bag of essential/just-in-case supplies out of the back seat. "Let me take that," said Lance. Hal was getting his own things out of the jeep.

"I can carry my own stuff," Lauren said. Lance yielded the sleeping bag.

"I'll carry this," he said, raising the bag. "You'll need one hand free for the rope."

"You guys take the description, 'Sherpas, ' too seriously." Still she put the sleeping bag over her left shoulder and trudged ahead. Hal was next, carrying only his sleeping bag. Either he hadn't brought anything, or it was all stuffed in the bottom of his bag. He let her go first. Lance was last.

Lauren gasped when she got to the top of the rise. The place was as grand as the boys had said. She looked around in the light from the setting sun. She saw a shallow bowl still filled with snow. The tent set up against the far wall, facing East. The only footprints were on the path leading to the tent.

Despite the sunlight, the air was chill around her. She shivered once and took her sleeping bag over to the tent. Hal tossed his sleeping bag in the tent on top of the spread-out space blanket. He took her bag of material from Lance and laid it down on the blanket as if he thought something could break.

"We generally designate the space west of the tent as the latrine," Hal said.

"Make sure he's inside the tent when you use it," Lance suggested. Hal gave him a dirty look. If Hal was that eager to see her with her pants down, he didn't need to sneak; but she wasn't going to tell Lance that.

She crawled into the tent to arrange things while Hal walked Lance back to the descending path. "Well," he said when he came back, "they're off."

"That's good," she said. Then she couldn't think of anything more to say. She had been alone with Hal many previous times, but never quite so alone as this. They were going to sleep in the same tent all night; there probably wouldn't be another human within ten miles. Maybe a park ranger, but nobody within one mile at most.

She walked out to admire the view. After a bit, she started around the edges of the bowl. Hal walked with her, but he didn't say a word.

"Watch out," he said after a while. "The air is cold, but it's less protection than it is down below. You'll burn before you know it."

Actually, she had known that. Still, she did need to be reminded; and it was nice of him to worry about her. "Thanks."

"Summers, we usually spend our time in the shade of the tent."

She crawled into the tent and lay on top of her sleeping bag. Hal came in after her, lay on top of his bag, and pulled the spaceblanket over her, leaving lots of room for the cool air to circulate. The only bit of himself he covered were his heavily- booted feet.

"Thanks."

"You are quite..." Hal said. Then he kissed her nose. "welcome."

She held his head to give him a kiss on the lips. He, for a wonder, kept his tongue inside his own mouth. "Do you think that they are getting along okay?" she asked. She couldn't get Sam and Lance out of her mind.

"I think they're okay. They're probably not getting very far along, though. I doubt that they've reached the motel yet.

"Look," he continued, "let's leave the lovebirds to run their own lives for now. We've done what they wanted, and there is nothing we can do to help from here. I don't really think that they would appreciate our picturing their night together."

"That wasn't what I meant!" Not that she had avoided picturing this night in the past, but she wasn't about to start when Hal was right here beside her.

"Your picturing them is no problem. They might not like it, but they'll never know. My picturing them is no problem, likewise. Our discussing them might well be a problem."

"You have a dirty mind. I was worrying about my friends." Not that her earlier thoughts hadn't been as dirty as he implied. Just that the thoughts which prompted her comment were utterly clean.

"Well, I'm not sure that worrying about them is going to help. We're here; they're there. We won't know about any problems unless someone comes storming up the trail asking what you think you're doing."

"Do you think we'll be found out?" That was something else to worry about.

"I don't see how. As Lance pointed out, my father hasn't come up here to make sure that we are all right for years. If he does, I'll tell him that Lance is asleep."

"Lance reassured you?" she asked.

"I said that I was nervous about the camping here. All Lance could think about was his getting caught."

"You were nervous about spending time with me?" Not, she'd bet, as nervous as she was about spending the time with him.

"More about what happens after. I'm going to enjoy tonight, but not if it means that it's our last date. Anyway, Lance is always the sensitive violinist of the family with his head in the clouds. I play the pragmatist with dirt on my hands. Lance, however, can be a self-centered pig without half trying."

"I wouldn't say that he has his head in the clouds." About his being self-centered, Hal didn't have anything to tell a member of the orchestra. "Anyway, you went out of your way to help him tonight."

"We get along fairly well. I certainly wish him the best. Everybody is so sure that Sam can follow him to Eastman."

"She should be able to. She's a really good student, and every bit as good a musician as he is. Already, as a junior, she was probably the best viola in the state of Colorado. A year from now, she'll be better than he is now."

"And you? Are you going to go off to Rochester and leave me?"

"Thanks. I've told you before. I'm the third best flautist in the orchestra, a high-school orchestra. I'll be lucky to play after next year. I get to turn a lot of pages as it is."

"Well, you'll have to get by on looks, then."

"Thanks." Her looks were as average as her flute playing, whatever Hal thought. But being with a guy who thought her very pretty -- or at least said so -- was a bonus.

"You are..." He leaned over to kiss her. " ... welcome. Whatever the thanks were for."

She kissed him back. This time, his tongue pressed between her lips. His hand was cold on her breast, even through shirt and bra. He moved it to her waist, where -- if it was no warmer -- at least she had fewer nerve endings. When she broke the kiss, he kissed her eyebrows and forehead.

He leaned over her to kiss her ear and down the side of her face towards the neck. She shivered.

"Cold?" he asked. He tucked the spaceblanket around her more securely. Then he pulled his side over his arm.

"Not really." Really, it was the touch of his lips which made her shiver. He stroked her side. Then he held her butt through the jeans. The kiss went on and on, and she got hotter and hotter.

When he broke the kiss, she rolled over onto her back. This time, when he held her breast his hand was nice and warm. The feeling was so exciting otherwise, that she wouldn't have complained even if it had chilled her.

He unbuttoned the top button on her shirt and kissed her there. He slowly bared her, keeping the kisses coming all the time. When he reached her navel, he stuck his tongue in there. She pushed him away, laughing.

"You're silly," she said.

"You're luscious. Good tasting, good enough to eat."

She sat up, pulled off the shirt, and removed the bra. He kissed her mouth again, his tongue touched hers, and -- then -- the roof of her mouth. His hand came back to her breast. He held it for a minute, and then took her nipple between his thumb and one of his fingers. She shivered.

"Are you cold? Should you get in the sleeping bag?" She wasn't shivering from the cold, but the sleeping bag was a good idea. She opened it up, got inside, and then covered herself. She was careful to leave it unzipped; she didn't want his hand kept out.

He kissed her, starting with her mouth. Then he pushed his head inside the sleeping bag and kissed her down to her breasts. Finally, he tongued and licked her nipples. She shivered even more and held his head where it was needed.

When she let go, he continued downward. He kissed the undersides of her breasts for the longest time. Then he returned to her nipple.

He ran his fingernails over her jean-clad thigh. She widened her legs and he repeated the caress. Then he moved that hand to her other breast. He held it, but kept one finger free to tease her nipple. He lifted his head.

"Do you want help removing those jeans?" he asked. They were far from her tightest pair, but a little help would be appreciated. He was careful to tug her panties upwards when he removed the jeans. This time, her shivers were for the cold air. She burrowed to the bottom of the sleeping bag, not even leaving her head outside the tent.

Looking out, she saw that there were no shadows left. The sun had set, even though the sky was still light. Hal moved further into the tent so that he was even with her. He took her face in his two hands -- one was still cold -- and kissed her. He kissed down to her breast again.

His hand tickled the inside of her thighs. Then he cupped her mound. His fingers rested across the slight covering of her panties from those lips that they had so often brought so much pleasure. It was time, she thought, for them to bring that pleasure again.

Perhaps reading her thoughts, he brought both of his hands to the waistband of her panties. She raised her hips to allow him to pull them down. He kissed her mouth lightly before leaning across her to suck on her left nipple. His hand returned to her mound.

This time, there was no cloth interfering. He stroked the edges of the outer labia. Delightful at first, this soon became inadequate. She raised her knees and spread her legs to give him access. He combed his fingers through the hair on her mound before continuing down. He parted the outer lips with two fingers and passed another within.

Soon, he was tonguing her right nipple while tickling her clitoris. She felt herself climbing the slope. "Hal loves Lauren," he said. Then he returned to her breast. She tightened. When he started sucking, she tightened still more.

Then a fire burned through her. She felt herself rise around his finger. She tensed. For minutes, maybe years, she was all tension while the fire flared.

Then she collapsed. His mouth left her breast. His hand left her crotch.

"Oh, Lauren," he said in a whisper. "Beautiful Lauren." He put his arm around her and kissed her shoulder. He kept far away from all the parts which were -- now -- so sensitive. She moved her own arm to push up the sleeping bag; its touch hurt her nipples.

He moved away for a minute. He sat up and stripped off his own shirt and teeshirt. When he hugged her again, his skin was warm against her arm.

Slowly, she came back. She was in a tent, a tent in the middle of beautiful scenery. She was in Hal's arms. She loved him deeply. She turned her head, and he moved his kisses over to her face. She moved her mouth under his. He kissed her, lightly on the lips, then deeply. Their tongues met. She had to move back to breathe.