SANTORINI

    

    It was late by the time she got rid of the Greek boy at the bar and then walked home, and her roommate, the Swedish girl, was already sleeping.

    Cow, she thought.

    The girl slept nude and though the night had started out cold it was milder now so that the sheet and blanket were down around her waist. She lay to one side, one hand beneath the pillow and the other draped over it, mouth slightly open. Her shoulders and back were brown and firmly muscled, the breast flesh very pale and slack by comparison.

    She knelt beside the girl’s bed and blew gently into her face. The eyelids fluttered.

    “You awake?”

    The girl slept on.

    She watched her, thinking of the Greek boy on the dance floor as he’d tried to hold her, thinking how easy it was to get rid of him once she’d wanted to. 'You know what Greek boys like, don’t you?' she’d said, deadpan, and the boy thought he understood so he smiled knowingly and laughed and watched her as she nodded toward his friend at the table, who smiled too, and then she said, 'Am fucking. Go fuck yourselves. The two of you. I’ll watch.'

    She smiled now. There wasn’t much worse you could say to a Greek. He’d wanted very much to hit her but he hadn’t. He hadn’t dared.

    The Swedish girl’s breathing was shallow and even. She slept deeply. Lelia did not and was glad of it. What if someone came to you in the night? Robbed you? Touched you?

    Like this.

    She pressed her forefinger to the girl’s shoulder, rested it lightly there for a moment, then drew it down behind the shoulder blade across the rib cage and finally to the base of her breast. Then she stopped and looked at her. The face registered nothing.

    She turned her hand palm upward and gently moved it down and with the back of her hand to the mattress drew the breast out toward her so that the weight of it rested in her hand. It was warm and slightly damp. The girl hadn’t moved. She looked at the nipple. It was large, a pale brown color, soft now.

    She wondered how long it would get.

    Let’s see.

    She moved her thumb and forefinger together and gently turned. She felt the skin wither and tighten.

    It got long. Very long.

    There was a tiny sound, almost a purring in the girl’s throat and she saw the eyelids move in the side-to-side motion that told her the girl was dreaming. Lelia almost laughed aloud. The Swedish girl was having a little dream. She moved in closer so the girl could smell the scent of her, the fine dusting of expensive perfume.

    Maybe she should lick it. Or bite.

    See how it tasted.

    But no.

    Leave something, she thought, for later.