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anywhere it would hurt. Rab had no idea what to expect, and his friends hung back, out of danger. Rab only kept at it because he was embarrassed not to. I would hit him with my fist or my lunch box, or I’d shove my desk right into his hips—except after the first time I did that, he was always ready to hop back, away.
    After a while Rab just gave up; they all did. “Who wants to waste time fighting a girl,” he muttered. They groused to themselves, “Girls are crybabies anyway, theydon’t fight fair, you’re always never allowed to hurt them. Who cares?” they said.
    Orfe raised her face at that and looked at me. I don’t know what I looked like, with rage draining out of me, but Orfe’s eyes shone out glad. That’s what I mean, I could hear, as clear as if she said it. I think my eyes must have been shining too.
    Even though I moved away and left Orfe behind, I didn’t forget her. Even if I’d never seen her again, I would have remembered Orfe. As it was, I wasn’t surprised to be the one she asked to go before them when she and Yuri walked out together to be married. I think my eyes must have been shining then too, and I know that Orfe and Yuri radiated a sense of loving that I can still warm my hands at, if I close my eyes and remember.

TWO
    I don’t remember why I was on that street on that day, at that time. I saw the gathering of people at the same time that I heard the singer’s voice. The song floated like light. Both particle and wave, if light, the song seemed unlike anything else in the sensual world.
    The singer stood with bent head, so I could see only a long mass of copper-colored curls. Then she raised her head in a remembered gesture and I recognized Orfe, across all the years.
    In jeans, turtleneck, and boots, Orfe could have been taken for a scrawny young man or a slender young woman; it didn’t matter which. Her hair spread around her face like a cloud. Her eyebrows were dark, and her narrow nosealmost projected into a hook. When she had finished singing, hands went into pockets and purses to find money to drop into the upturned hat at Orfe’s feet.
    Until the crowd had disbanded, Orfe didn’t notice me. When she did, she picked up the hat without counting what was in it and came toward me.
    I wasn’t sure of her then. “Orfe?”
    â€œHave I changed that much?”
    I shook my head to say no. “Older.”
    â€œIt’s been years. What did you expect?”
    I shook my head again, to clear my thoughts, for wonder. I had never expected anything and certainly not—
    Orfe opened the hat and peered into it. “I can buy you a cup of coffee.”
    â€œMore than one.” I poked my finger at a ten-dollar bill.
    â€œUnh-uh,” Orfe said. “My room for the night comes out of this, and meals.”
    â€œStay with me,” I invited her. “It’s a dormitory, but I’ve got a single, plenty of floor space.”
    She didn’t hesitate to accept any more than I had hesitated to ask. “In that case, I can buy you a sandwich. Aren’t you hungry? Don’t tell me anything yet, wait until we sit down and I can really pay attention—and you, you too, you can really payattention. Wait’ll you hear what’s been going on with me.”
    I couldn’t imagine and, imagining, was already caught up in Orfe’s excitement. But first I had to answer her questions about myself as we ate, and drank glass after glass of iced tea, and talked. “Why a degree in business?” Orfe asked.
    Most people thought that but didn’t ask. “I want to earn a good living. I’m good at management and applied economics, statistics, fitting all the pieces together.” Most people thought that if you were a business major, you weren’t their kind of person. “The workplace is so much of your life, you know? Work is so central, what you do to make your