The normal precautions and rules were somewhat out the window. I made my costume and had some sort of shoes I could dance in. Her costume was something with feathers—something birdlike.
There were balloons and streamers. The music was loud. You could buy beer or wine and the people that you came with soon disappeared.
I found myself with her and around other people I didn’t know, and she had about her, I thought, an aura of world-daring, except that I was not ready—that was for sure.
She gave me compliments and smiles and we had a lot of fun dancing.
She was quite a bit older, I guessed, so when she said she lived nearby, sex was on my mind.
We ended up in bed and after kissing and hugging for a while, we proceeded to the more essential part, having intercourse.
I had little experience. Eventually, I landed in the right space and then after, it wasn’t a long time, she pulled back. So at that point I was looking at her.
I didn’t have preservatives—whatever they’re called, starts with a p. Anyway, she said she had protection and I said, “So what should we do?” and she said, “Let’s complete it.” And I did reach a climax. I don’t know if she did. I just felt awful.
She was talking about continuing our relation and I said, yes, yes. So we parted and I felt something between exhilaration and shame, shame because I could not see any future with Margareta. I was not a good candidate and I did not want to give her any hope. We spoke on the phone and I was very sad.
So, do I even know why I submitted to her continued pursuit—in the end?
Ever since and years later, I have stayed on with Margareta, all the while considering myself unalterably naive.
For instance—what is it that constitutes deep and enduring affection? This remains to be seen.
And I am still bent on strictly assessing myself.
Is my background well rounded enough? Have I a passably pleasant personality?—the right combination of theoretical and practical knowledge to remain reasonably competent, acceptably up to the standard in everything that I do?
Or, can I make it look like that?
Am I qualified for my reward? 
Diane Williams is the founder and editor of NOON. She is the author of ten volumes of short fiction and the recipient of four Pushcart Prizes. Her most recent book of stories, How High?—That High, was published by Soho Press in 2021. A new collection of stories, I Hear You’re Rich, is forthcoming from Soho Press next year.
Illustration: Rae Buleri
