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Amongst a group, she tended to be rather reticent and introspective,
electing to keep her own counsel. It was only when we were alone, and others
had departed a lunch-table discussion, that she’d whisper an opinion on the
topic(s) of discourse: usually a sotto “My ass!” or drawn-out “Bulllllshiiiit!”
delivered disdainfully from the side of her mouth.
Despite the fact that Norma (or was it just her scent?) was a constant
source of distraction for me, I never made any moves to get intimate with her.
I liked things just as they were; Norma was a friend, a pal. Perhaps
subliminally I was a bit intimidated by Norma. Her inherent assertiveness
frustrated any overtures, sexual or otherwise. She was also five inches taller
It was just before Christmas vacation that Norma acted out of character. It
was the first time I had ever seen her wear a skirt, a full pleated affair in
some vaguely familiar tartan. At the end of Sociology II, as we stood up,
gathering our books, she quite casually said: “Well, what the hell, have a
happy holiday,” and planted a kiss full on my lips. For the briefest of
microseconds, I felt the tip of her tongue caress my mouth. With perfect
aplomb, she tossed a coat about her shoulders and left the classroom.