Vanessa seats and approached it a little. Is. - She put their hands in the chest and pushed him skeleton in bed. Then took the cigarette from his hand and stuck in the old coffee cup that was on the table by half-to-head. -Do not worry - she said with his voice hoarse from more experienced women. -I know what I'm doing. She gently kissed the mouth and started to strip the two. First it took the gray shirt, then took the black she dressed. Was wearing a black top underneath. All that was Vanessa wore black. Dan deep breath and closed his eyes. It was not how he thought would happen. For him, sex was as important as birth and death, one of the most intense poetic experience that a person could have. It was not something you do with a girlfriend when I was bored one night before the evidence of Saturday's middle period. It was one thing when the two had already explored all other ways - intellectual, spiritual and philosophical. Dan came to play with the idea of waiting for sex when they were married ready to have children. He wanted to have five children and give them the name of your favorite writers: Kafka, Goethe, Sartre, Camus and Keats. Even if you do not have to wait until marriage, the first time should be a process of discovery as the two learn to speak a new language. But Vanessa had learned the language with another man. - You have feet and close it - she noted, kneel down on the floor while Dan took the half. Dan felt her feet and departed. -Wait. Vanessa is dragged to bed and was sat next to him, his legs crossed, with that black top and black panties. -What is the problem? -I do not want to do this - Dan crossed the thin arms bare chest. A pair of corduroy was still in the body, but he felt very naked. - I mean, not now. Vanessa extended the hand and arm afagou happily. -I was nervous the first time too. Not so much - she said, reassuring. I promise. Dan swallowed in dry and looked at the ceiling. It was looking upon a crack in the plaster above his head. -I just wanted to wait until it is more ... organic. -All right, said Vanessa slowly. But it is sex-only, save as is. Not a poem. Obviously she did not mean it. For Dan was even a poem. Probably the most important poem he ever wrote. He put the shirt. -I just think better to wait, it's just that. -Okay - Vanessa said, the point of losing patience. Dan was always considering other things, writing about them in his black hood of bloquinho until there was nothing else to write. She loved the way his sensitive and romantic, but at least once in life he could be nice and stop thinking so much on things and just follow the damn current. Still, Vanessa was the end of it since the day they met and made friends, three years before. She would not ruin things, now they were finally together. Dan lit another cigarette. Hands tremiam him as ever. Vanessa the cutucou again. -Hey, there is not so worried. For me, all right that has not rolled. Okay? He seats. Vanessa took his hand and put the arm of Dan around his shoulders. They returned to lie in bed and Dan blew the smoke into the role of Chinese red lantern while gently afagava the bald head of Vanessa with the thumb. I was fortunate to not have to explain both. It was what was cool in dating the best friend. She knew him almost better than he knew himself. The two were lying there for some time, watching the smoke of cigarette Dan float in the air. That was another thing to be legal with the best friend. Not when you have to talk. -Once you start the holidays, I run one more film. Vanesa-broke the silence. - I think that my War and peace may be too dark to send to the University of New York. The latest film by Vanessa was adapted from a scene of war and peace, Tolstoy, and brought as a princepe Dan Andrei addicted to crack. Vanessa had applied to the University of New York and wanted to send one of his movies instead of writing an essay, because it wanted to form in cinema. She could barely wait. Just one more time in Constance Billard School for Girls Magrelas and neurotic, where (thank God) does not fit into anything, and she was free, free, free! Dan released a long whiff. I did not know with what Vanessa was concerned. The films were combrios it, but it was that made it bright. I had as Univerdidad of New York did not accept it. -If anyone has to worry, that somebody is me - he said, his hands trembling with nervous again. -How so? - Vanessa asked. - A university with a decent program deliteratura means you have to kill. -Yeah, but I speak of dombrio, My poems are even ... - Dan stopped. The poems were his personal, were what they were. And it seemed weird to have a lot of them an official admission in any of Columbia, or Brown, or Vassar, as if his soul desnudando and a complete stranger could not have read the works of Goethe, Sartre and Camus and not understand your references oblique to them. -Did you know that you can even try to publish their stuff? - Vanessa suggested. -That would leave the staff of the university's admission completely convinced about you. Dan put the cigarette end of empty cigarette in a can of Coca-Cola. -Yeah, okay - he said. He liked to write, but no way is ready to send your stuff to a publisher. Not even find your voice yet. He knew that. Each new poem that I wrote seemed different from the older. Vanessa is seated again. -What? I'm talking sério.Você should do that. Dan adunfou further in blankets. -Whatever - he muttered without enthusiasm. I was not ready for sex and not estavapronto to be published. Now she felt even more inadequate. Vanessa knew that when I was back Horadada. She breathed fund and channeled his inner kitten, one that just came out of his corner in hot heater when Dan needed a strong kiss on his cute face. She deslizou covered under the breast and kissed him. -One more week and we can spend all the time so the holidays - she muttered. Unlike most members of the class at Constance Billard and Riverside Prep, or Vanessa or Dan would have a glamorous travel holidays of Christmas. Vanessa lived with older sister, a bassist, Ruby, in an apartment in Williamsburg, in Brooklyn. Parents of them were artists of the future, always lived in Vermont and spent the Christmas on a tour with his troupe perfotmática. Dan and sister Jenny, lived with her father, Rufus, a communist writer and editor, beat poets known anything, not believed in Christmas, Hanukkah or in, or in any other holy days, indeed. -Daddy will make his annual lasagna on Thursday - and Dan went back in the hands of Vanessa, allowing them to relax again. He loved the softness and firmness of her back, which were not full of ribs as him. - Are you coming, right? She gave the shoulders.