第4部分(第2/7 页)

　…　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　plete

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　pletely　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