Chapter 4

I didn't have anything to do, so I went down to the can and chewed the rag with him while he was shaving. Stradlater always looked alright, but he was a secret slob. Like, his razor was always rusty as hell, with all lather and hairs and crap always left in it. I was sat on the wash bason next to his and I had a habit of turning the tap on and off. Then he asked me to do him a favour. He wanted me to write him a goddamn composition for English. I mean, it's me who's flunking out of the goddamn place but he wants me to do his work for him. It was very ironical. It really was. He said I had to write something descriptive - like a room or a house. I asked him who the hell his date was. He said that she knew me, and when he told me her name i damn near dropped dead. Jane Gallagher. Boy, I sat up from the washbowl when I heard that name. I couldn't believe it. She practically lived right next door to me, the summer before last. Boy, was I excited though. I really was. I oughta go down and say hello to her but I was too tired to be honest. I told him to give her my regards and to ask her if she still keeps all her kings on the back row - oh, we used to play checkers together all the time. I knew he probably wouldn't remember though. Boy, I was excited as hell. I couldn't stop thinking about her. As soon as Stradlater left, Ackley barged in again through the damn shower curtains. For the first time in my life I was pretty glad to see him - he took my mind off other stuff. He was talking about how he hated all the guys at Pencey and squeezing his big pimple on his chin. He could have at least used a goddamn hankerchief.