Honeymoon Hotel

The young girl -- nineteen, freckled-faced, and with a surprisingly mature body for one her age -- was dressed in skin-tight white shorts and was braless beneath her powder blue blouse. She lay 'crosswise on the bed, and stared up at an older girl who was standing before a mirror and running a comb through long blonde hair. "But aren't you excited?" Marylou asked, shivering in vicarious enjoyment. "I mean ... I would be! After all, your wedding is only two days away, and then you and Dick go to that groovy castle place in Ireland for your honeymoon. Why, you must be excited." "Of course I am, silly." Sue's voice was patient with her cousin. "I'm happy and excited. But I'm also calm." That last statement was a lie, but Marylou couldn't know it. The younger girl couldn't see the turmoil Sue felt, the oppressive feeling of apprehension that bordered on fear.