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LYNN FLOWERS By Jane Howard The following story is copyrighted by the author and cannot be duplicated or reproduced anywhere or for any purpose without the author's consent. This story is a continuation of Jane Howard's RUNAWAY, which is also available on FICTIONMANIA. Reading the prequel first is not mandatory. Actually, it might be more fun to read this story first and then read the prequel. LYNN FLOWERS is rated R for mature situations and language. ***** The night of the spring concert, Lynn was as nervous as a kitten. She spent too much time redoing her makeup, couldn't find her shoes, although they were right in front of her eyes, and after assessing herself in the mirror that hung behind her bedroom door, she finally decided that she looked awful. "I can't let anyone see me looking like this!" she said to herself. Actually, Lynn looked perfectly fine. Her make up was fine. Her hair and eyebrows (which would have been dead giveaways) had been toned down with a color rinse from their natural red gold to a lustrous light auburn. The retro, 1930's style off-white silk dress and matching scarf Mr. DiGisco the music teacher had found for her in a thrift shop rendered her not just presentable, but extremely attractive. The problem was that the drape of the dress and the clinging delicacy of the soft silk from which it was made would leave anyone who saw her in it with the impression of a girl who was less innocent than she was seductive. Lynn had seen plenty of girls at school who dressed like sluts to get attention, but she'd always been far too na?ve about herself to think that she had the power to excite boys - until she saw herself in that silk dress. If she was going to be completely honest about it, the projection of worldly sophistication that was so "not her" was what she thought was so "awful" about the way she looked. She wasn't a slut, and she very much feared and had always avoided doing anything with her appearance to provoke the kind of attention that testosterone-charged boys paid to high school girls. She wasn't a real girl yet, and even if she had been, she was never going to allow herself to be seen as cheap and easy. That was the road to real danger. True she had snuggled with Michael in his car, and even let him kiss her on the lips once, but that was as far as she was willing to go at this stage in her transition. And besides, her relationship with Michael was private. No one else at school even knew they were seeing each other. Michael was the only boy she allowed to treat her as kissable because Michael was warm and sensitive and kind and generous. He wasn't the type to pay all kinds of attention to a girl and then go behind her back to brag to his buddies about what he'd done to her body the night before. And she believed that he probably really did love her, so he deserved that kiss anyway. Nevertheless, getting involved with Michael had been a mistake?a mistake she planned to correct as soon as the concert was over. Meantime, what could she do about the dress? Nothing. "I'm not wearing it! I'm not going to the concert, and that's all!" But no sooner had Lynn raised her hands behind her neck to unclip the pearl choker Michael had given her the day before, when she heard a car pull up in her parents' gravel driveway. The driver honked twice. Lynn glanced at the electric clock on her night table. She couldn't believe it was already a quarter to seven. The concert started at eight o'clock and, even though she wasn't going, she was still way behind schedule. "Damn! Damn!" she said as she finally found and then slipped into her beige high heels. There was no time left to do anything but react. Michael was waiting for her at the front door. She would just have to run down stairs and tell him the whole thing was off. He'd probably try to talk her out of it. Well, he might think that he had her wrapped around his little finger, but this time she wasn't going to be persuaded to change her mind. She never allowed Michael into the house. Bad enough that her parents were in denial about her true gender, but if they saw her going out in that dress and then found out she had a boy friend on top of it, she was sure they'd kill her and bury her body in the garden. Lynn pulled a pale pink cardigan from the closet and rushed to the stairs. Too late! Her mother was already waiting below, holding unsteadily onto the banister. "Got a hot date?" Mrs. Flowers asked with the excessive articulation of a person who's been drinking and wants to conceal it. Lynn took a few cautious steps down the stairs and replied as casually as she could, "Just getting a ride to the spring concert." "Dressed like that?" Mrs. Flowers tone was genuinely curious, although the look in her eyes was hard to read. "Oh, this?" Lynn pulled at the skirt of her dress like a little girl. "We're doing a skit tonight. Just for laughs. You know?high school kids joking around, acting silly...." As she spoke, Lynn took a few more tentative steps down. Mrs. Flowers watched Lynn's naturally graceful descent, carefully studying her son's face and clothes. But Lynn wasn't really her son anymore, was he? Mrs. Flowers finally had to admit to herself that he wasn't. She sighed and her eyes moistened. At last, as if surrendering at last to an idea she'd long resisted accepting, she said, "Lovely? beautiful..." Coming all the way down, Lynn tried to brush by her, but Mrs. Flowers caught her by the hand and stopped her for a moment. "You have fun tonight, honey," she said, giving Lynn's hand a little squeeze before letting go. "Why, thank you, momma!" Lynn answered. Although her mother's apparent and inexplicable change in attitude mystified her, she felt grateful. Impulsively, Lynn kissed her mother on the cheek, and then she was out the door. Michael was waiting for her on the front lawn. He was holding a small bouquet of orchids mingled with baby's breath. Lynn came near enough to him to murmur, "Get back in the car, you crazy boy!" Michael laughed, and followed her the few steps to his car, politely opening the passenger side door for her. "The neighbors could be watching!" Lynn complained, slipping into the car. "And what would they see if they did?" Michael replied. Lynn was silent for a moment. She didn't want to answer that question. But she had one of her own. She waited for Michael to join her in the car. "What were you laughing at?" she asked, certain that he was amused by the way she looked. "Why, the look on your face! I've never seen a face with a look so happy and puzzled and stressed all at the same time. Talk about complexity! God, girl! You're one of a kind, and that's for sure!" "Maybe I'm happy because I'm with you," she said with a coy, sideways glance. Michael slid closer. "Don't muss me," Lynn warned, pushing him away. "I'm puzzled because my mother was so nice to me just now. She hasn't called me 'honey' in years?ever since I was little and she still loved me. She was acting so strangely, even for her. At first I though she'd been drinking, but now I don't. I don't think she's feeling very well at all." Michael felt obligated to commiserate, even though he really didn't like Mrs. Flowers?or Mr. Flowers for that matter?at least from what he knew about them. "I'm sorry. But maybe it's nothing." "Maybe," Lynn agreed. "And why do I look stressed? I'm stressed because of this damn concert!" "It's a piece of cake," said Michael, using his most reassuring tone. While he spoke, he was tying the corsage around her wrist. "We go in, we have a ball, people applaud and we leave. No big deal." "Not for you! You enjoy calling attention to yourself, mister-lead- singer-with-his-own-band-been performing-for-years, blah, blah, et cetera!" "Lynn..." Lynn wasn't finished. "But suppose you had to show up tonight in a dress! A dress you hate! And suppose you were really, really shy. And suppose you were scared to death that somebody was going to recognize you for who you truly were and that you were going to be harassed and humiliated for the rest of your life because of it!" Once she got what she had to say out of her system, she could no longer hide the fear that laid beneath her frustrations, Lynn began to tremble. She needed a cuddle. "Thank you for the corsage," she said in a much softer voice. She looked down and delicately fingered the fragile orchids. In a deceptively off-handed way she added, "I just came out to tell you that I can't do this." Despite what was at stake, Michael never lost his cool for a second. Mildly, he observed that Lynn looked beautiful in the dress. He took her hand in his and assured her that he loved her and that he would never, never let anything bad happen to her. He reminded her of all the planning that had gone into protecting her identity. Gently, he spoke of all the people who were counting on her tonight, and the sacrifices they'd made to see the project through. Finally, he pointed out that if she began to cry, her mascara was going to run, and then where would they be? "It's water proof," Lynn said. Was she overreacting when she told him she didn't want to go? Perhaps. "I'm sorry. It's just my nerves. I'm so nervous that something's going to go wrong tonight." "Nothing's going to go wrong. I promise you." They sat in silence for a minute, listening to the hum of the engine. "Are you going to get tired of me being such a crazy bitch all the time?" Lynn asked. "Never." Michael released the emergency brake, put the car in gear and they were off. ***** It usually took about five minutes to cover the distance from Lynn's house to Franklin Pierce High School. However, on this particular night it took Michael and Lynn a lot longer than that to get where they were going. The extra travel time had to do with an incident that took place at the intersection of Beaufort Boulevard and Utopia. For it was at that exact intersection that Lynn panicked yet again, screamed, "I can't do this! I can't do this!" and tried to throw herself out of the car. Michael slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a screeching, fishtailing halt. Fortunately for Lynn (for she'd surely have been seriously hurt if she'd succeeded), she'd forgotten to unlatch the seatbelt? which had the effect of restraining her, despite the several lunges she'd made to get free, rather like a puppet on a set of strings. So, once the car stopped, it was relatively easy for Michael to grab her by the arm and pull her back inside, where his application of a series of reassuring words and affectionate pets and hugs successfully returned her to a state of calm. Not so fortunate was the fact that officer Stubmann of the town police had observed the entire incident from behind the windshield of his patrol car and concluded that he might just be witnessing a kidnapping. He pulled up behind Michael's car, activated his flashing lights and stepped out of his vehicle. "Do you still have faith in me, Michael?" asked Lynn as the police officer ambled towards them with his hands on his hips. "Yes, I do," Michael replied. "Even after what I just did?" "Call me a whacko if you want to, but I still do." "You really trust in me?" "Absolutely!" "Then you let me handle the cop," said Lynn, pulling out her lipstick and fiddling with her skirt. After Michael produced his license, registration and proof of insurance, the officer asked him where he was going. Michael explained that they were performing in the Spring Concert up at the high school tonight. Stubmann noted that Michael appeared to be completely in control of himself, not nervous at all. He also observed that the attractive young female with the corsage on her wrist was pale, but had a dazzling smile, and that she held onto the driver's arm with easy familiarity. There was nothing in her demeanor to suggest that she was intimidated or afraid. According to the license and registration, both bearing the same local address, the driver was Michael Sage. Stubmann knew the name Sage very well. It was a highly respected name in town? the Sages had plenty of class and plenty of money and plenty of influence, too. He didn't want to make a bad arrest and end up with a reprimand in his file or worse. But on the other hand, he wasn't going to let himself be outsmarted by a kidnapper, either. Stubmann turned his attention back to the girl. She seemed utterly unaware that her dress had ridden up high on her thighs and that she was unintentionally giving the police officer quite an eyeful of legs, garters, and the beginnings of a white silk triangle of panty right at the very top of his view. He wouldn't mind tearing off a piece with that little hottie, Stubmann thought. "Are you alright, miss?" he asked. "Oh, yes!" "I'm asking because you seemed to be in some distress just now." "I was. There was a bee in the car." "A bee?" "Yes, and I'm terribly allergic to bee stings. But it flew out when I opened the car door and everything's fine." Lynn batted her eyes at Stubmann. The explanation was plausible, the boy who was driving seemed credible and the girl was definitely one hot little momma?even if she was jail bait. But just to make sure, officer Stubmann decided to escort them to the high school and leave them in the custody of their teachers. That way someone else would be left holding the bag (assuming there was a bag to be left holding in the first place), and he'd be off the hook. So, with his patrol car leading the way, he conveyed his two charges through all the stop signs and traffic lights along the route, arriving at Franklin Pierce High School at about twenty after seven?not too late at all?with his siren blaring and his lights flashing. "Talk about being inconspicuous," Micheal muttered, rubbing his face. "Oh, my God! This is so fun!" Lynn squealed, clapping her hands together. Michael thought that the one good thing that had come out of this near- disaster (after all, they both could have ended up in jail!) was that Lynn's confidence was back. She'd had Stubmann practically coming in his pants, and what was even better, Lynn told Michael she'd known Stubmann since she was a kid, yet he had no idea who she was. If she could fool a professional observer from close up, then she shouldn't have any qualms about fooling a bunch of self-obsessed high school kids from a distance. Stubman rolled his window down and palavered with the outrageously gay man attired in a white tuxedo who was lingering by the auditorium door. With a perfect poker face, Mr. DiGisco, the school's choral director, vouched for his two performers. This satisfied Stubmann, who then sped off, lights on, siren blaring, in response to a radio call about a truck full of frozen salmon overturning on Route 118 West. Mr. DiGisco motioned for Michael to park in the principal's own parking space, which happened to be right next to the connecting corridor that led to the school auditorium itself. Then he grabbed both his charges by the hand and pulled them into the building as fast as he could. Speed was of the essence. A bunch of kids were already making their way behind the building to find out what was up with a police car coming onto the school grounds. The last thing DiGisco wanted was for someone to recognize Lynn. Once inside the corridor, the trio split up. Mr. DiGisco, who not only directed the school chorus, but also the school band, went into the auditorium to warm up the brass and strings and Lynn and Michael rushed into a side room that had direct access to the stage via a short set of steps. The room, which was about the size of an average living room, served as a combination "green" room and dressing room. It smelled strongly of make up and hair spray and stinky socks. The far wall was lined with a few chairs, small tables and make up mirrors. A portable screen stood in the corner in case a member of the cast needed privacy to make a costume change. To the right of the screen was another door that led to a bathroom with a single toilet and a sink. The only wall decoration was a dusty, framed photograph of a long-dead, long-forgotten former principal. The metal plate screwed into the bottom of the frame identified the joyless face as belonging to one Mr. Tunkel. Some witty student had taken a magic marker and given Mr. Tunkel's face a pair of eyeglasses, a moustache, and a goatee, and he'd also written the word variant "faggit" across Mr. Tunkel's forehead. The other four members of the ensemble were already in the room along with a couple of student volunteers named Trudy and Liz who were acting as make up artist and costumer respectively. Sarah was fiddling with her hair, Joe was doing scales to warm up his voice, Elaine was in the bathroom gargling and Graham was sitting backwards on one of the chairs looking rather glum. "Sorry we're late," Michael said. Graham and Sarah snickered because Lynn was always late. "I almost didn't come at all," Lynn confessed. "Why not?" asked Sarah. "Stage fright, I guess," Lynn replied. "Are you kidding? This act is the best thing Franklin Pierce High School is ever gonna see!" said Sarah. "By lunch time tomorrow we'll all be cafeteria celebrities!" Lynn blanched. She didn't want to be a lunchroom celebrity. Seeing Lynn getting upset again, Michael quickly intervened. "Except for Lynn of course, 'cause no one's going to know its her." "Right," Sarah said, instantly understanding Michael's meaning. She changed the subject. "Nice corsage, Lynn." "Thanks! Um, my parents gave it to me." Lynn held her wrist out so Sarah could admire the corsage even more. "I can't dance for shit," said Graham, suddenly standing up and trying a few steps. "What are you talking about? You're a great dancer, pookie!" Sarah turned her attention immediately back to Graham, her dance partner and current boyfriend. Sarah changed boyfriends often, but she'd been going with Graham since they'd both gotten involved in the Spring Concert?four and a half weeks?which was kind of a record for her. "Nah! I got two right feet!" Graham whined. "You mean you've got two left feet," corrected Sarah. "See, everybody? Even Sarah says I suck! But she luh-huh-huves me anyway!" Graham held his arms out wide. "Don'cha, baby?" Sarah flung herself into Graham's arms and gave him several big, noisy kisses to prove that she did. Elaine came out of the bathroom and walked straight towards Michael, noticed Lynn and made a quick detour to give her a peck on the cheek. "Hi!" said Elaine, stepping back a bit. "Hi," replied Lynn "You look faboo," said Elaine after giving Lynn the once over without trying to look like she was. But as hard and as critically as she might scrutinize Lynn, she had to admit to herself that what she said was true. Lynn looked absolutely faboo?glamorous and sexy?not a trace of boy to be seen?not even a speck. "You, too!" Lynn didn't entirely trust Elaine. She'd heard the other girls talking about Elaine in the school lunchroom. She was 'easy,' they said. She was practically a 'nympho,' they said. She had her eye on Michael, they said. Sure enough, Elaine turned away from Lynn, then acted completely surprised, throwing her hands up in the air, pretending to notice Michael for the first time. In a room as small as that one, it took some serious brass to bring it off. "Ohhh! Michael! I didn't see you standing there!" she gushed, taking a few small steps towards the object of her attention. "Do you look hot in that suit or what?" Michael smiled and let Elaine give him a peck on the cheek. Perhaps this peck took just a second longer than the peck Elaine had given Lynn. Then she began to engage him in small talk about the musical numbers their ensemble was going to perform that night. Lynn was watching Elaine with a look that can only be described as extremely focused and her usually serene green eyes took on a glint that, had Elaine been aware of it, she would have found quite unsettling. Elaine wasn't conscious of the look Lynn was giving her, but Michael was. It made him happy, and his smile widened. He was delighted to see any sign of caring, even one as negative as jealousy in this mercurial creature he loved so much. Gradually, to improve his view, he changed positions so that Elaine's back was to Lynn and he was looking right at her. For her part, Lynn was experiencing emotional turmoil. She'd never experienced a feeling of jealousy before. Didn't even realize she was feeling jealous now. She just knew that Elaine had Michael's attention, and she didn't want him paying attention to Elaine. She wanted him paying attention to her. She couldn't swear it was exactly the same feeling, but she'd felt something similar once before. A few years ago, when her little kitten Ming Toy had died for no reason at all, she'd experienced something like this. It was a combination of anger, and helplessness and a terrible sense of loss in the face of some irresistible force that had the power to take anything she loved away from her whenever it chose. She knew the comparison was absurd?she hadn't lost anything yet, no one had died?and she understood why this time was different. Elaine was no supernatural force, just competition for Michael's attention. This time Lynn could fight for what she wanted to keep. She was strong enough to do it now. She would do it. Elaine was a busty girl, and Lynn thought she saw her flaunting her tits right up at Michael a couple of times?that bitch! Lynn wasn't busty, but she had enough chest to fill out the top of her dress rather nicely. Michael appreciated her bosom exactly the way it was. She knew he did. Elaine? Elaine was a cow! Elaine had some nerve! What a slut! Lynn decided it was time to act. Before she could do anything, Trudy came over and grabbed her by the arm. "We need to work on your makeup," Trudy said. Lynn protested. "I already did it myself!" "That's okay for day wear, honey. But it's just not going to work under the stage lights," Trudy explained as she dragged Lynn over to one of the wooden chairs facing the mirrors and sat her down. "But..." "You want your face to bleach out under the lights? You want to look like a girl ghost?" Trudy asked. "No..." "Of course not! So, take that sweater off, put it on the peg over there, and let's get to it!" Trudy didn't start from scratch. There wasn't any time for that, although she would have preferred to. Instead, after covering Lynn's dress with a plastic sheet, she reinforced the base and then powdered Lynn down while Lynn held her hair out of the way. Then, she just went over what Lynn had already done, reinforcing the definition of her eyebrows, eye lashes and eyeliner, and deepening the colors of her Midnight Blue eye shadow, Pomegranate Pink rouge and Russian Red lip gloss. The whole makeover only took a few minutes. Trudy took a step back to assess her work. "You're a pretty little thing," she said. "Now blot your lipstick." Trudy handed Lynn a tissue. Lynn hardly heard her. She'd only been paying minimal attention to what Trudy'd been doing to her?just enough attention to make sure that Trudy was enhancing rather than destroying the look that Lynn herself had spent over an hour creating at home. But for the most part, she'd been watching Elaine in the mirror, glancing over towards her at every opportunity, and she continued to do it even as she pressed her lips against the tissue Trudy had given her. If Elaine didn't stop flirting with Michael there was going to be a cat fight in the green room. "You have really beautiful eyes. Striking." Trudy said, gently raising Lynn's chin so she could admire the extraordinary green color of Lynn's irises all the better. Trudy's admiration was getting to be a bit much, and it was interfering with Lynn's spying. "Are you hitting on me?" Lynn asked. Trudy rolled her eyes and walked abruptly away saying, "Some people can't take a simple compliment for shit!" But despite her protest, her cheeks were burning, and everyone could see they were, which made Trudy blush even harder. Lynn removed the plastic apron and pushed herself out of the chair. Her small hands were curled into fists, her newly re-glossed lips were pressed into an angry pout, and she was headed straight for Elaine. Then Rod Colletti stuck his head inside the door. "Hi, guys!" he shouted, his famous sneer still permanently attached to his wolfish face. Rod had been well known to all the students at Franklin Pierce for years. One reason he was known so well known was because he'd been left back twice. The other was for his infamous exploits, one of which led to his ultimate expulsion. In Rod's senior year, he was charged with pulling the fire alarm during a crucial basketball game between the Franklin Pierce Pioneers and the Hillville Huskies. This happened at a time when both teams were vying for first place in Division C. After the alarm activated the sprinkler system, the soaking wet teams, coaches and fans were forced to stand in freezing weather while the volunteer fire department searched for the non-existent fire. Afterwards, it wasn't hard for school authorities to determine the facts of the case. For one thing, Rod couldn't stop bragging all over the place about what he'd done. For another, while he was being questioned about the incident in the principal's office, he admitted he'd done it, said he was glad he'd done it, and announced that he'd do it again if he felt like it. Then he told everyone in the room to go fuck themselves and left. The police were waiting for him in the hall and promptly arrested him on several charges and took him out of the building in handcuffs. Rod went to juvie for a while. He was also expelled from school for chronic disruptive behavior, inciting a riot and using bad language. No one cared about any of that. What was worse, much worse, was the decision of the State Athletic Board to declare the game a forfeit against the Pioneers (who'd been trailing by a mere two points at the time the alarm went off) and to award the win to the Huskies. So the Huskies went on to the Regionals and Franklin Pierce's only decent basketball team in its entire history as a high school went on to achieve nothing at all?unless you count having become a legend in the school's folklore as worth something. Every student at Pierce who remembered Rod, and that included everyone, hated his guts?and Rod hated them right back. So what was he doing here? Lynn looked around the room. Everyone was ignoring Rod and busying themselves, or pretending to be busying themselves with something else. Trudy grabbed Elaine and put her in the chair for a reassessment of the make up she'd just applied to her face twenty-five minutes ago. Joe (whom Rod had knocked down the stairs once) went into the bathroom. Sarah and Graham (on whom Rod had once planted marijuana and then turned him in for selling drugs on school property) started going over their music. The other production assistant, Liz tried to slip passed Rod, but he was hogging the doorway, so she changed directions without missing a beat and went into the bathroom with Joe. Lynn slipped over to Michael and stood next to him. "What are you doing here, Rod?" Michael asked. "I just came to wish everybody good luck tonight," Rod answered casually, directing his reply towards Lynn rather than Michael. Now the strange thing about Rod was that of all the kids at school, the one person he'd never bothered was Lynn. Once, when his younger brother Brian (who was almost as bad as Rod) started to mess with her, Rod smacked him on the side of the head and told him to leave the freak alone?and after he said that Rod gave her a look that confused her. It wasn't a hateful look, or a look of contempt, or disgust or anything like that. But it wasn't friendly, either. Then, some days afterwards, while Lynn was waiting in the food line in the cafeteria, standing right behind big fat Danny Amberg, she saw the same expression on Danny's face that she'd seen on Rod's. Except Danny was looking at a fresh juicy bacon lettuce and tomato sandwich. Rod had that same look on his face tonight. "Weren't you expelled?" Michael asked Rod. Michael's voice was smooth and controlled. "Yeah," Rod said, shaking his head like he still couldn't believe they'd thrown him out of school, but that he also found the idea humorous. "So what're you doing here?" Michael continued in a slightly more aggressive tone. "Hey! I got a right to buy a seat to see this show just like anybody else," Rod countered, holding up his ticket. He shrugged his shoulders and added, "Besides, I miss seeing some of you guys, so it's kinda like going to a reunion for me." "Somebody should call the cops!" Liz yelled from behind the locked bathroom door. "Why call the cops?" Rod asked reasonably. "I done my time and I'm a free citizen now, just coming to see the spring musical. So what?" and with that Rod made as if to go. As an afterthought, he turned back and added, "I got a front seat, too," aiming that last comment directly at Lynn, and giving her another one of those hungry for food stares. Once Rod was gone, Michael looked at Lynn appraisingly. "Do you have a history with that guy?" "No!" "It wouldn't matter if you did. You know that." "Are you out of your mind? I've never even said a word to him! He's horrible!" "I'm just asking because he knew it was you the moment he saw you." It looked like Lynn's greatest fear was about to come true. Rod's reaction to her was the proof. And that's why she said very decisively, "I told Mr. DiGisco this wasn't going to work. You're right, Rod knew who I was in a second, and everyone else is going to know it, too! That settles it. I'm leaving." Lynn left out mentioning her concerns about the other part, about Rod looking at her with so much appetite. She wondered briefly what kind of foods he liked. Was she a lamb chop to him, or a piece of white frosted cake? She didn't really want to know. The idea was beginning to give her an upset stomach. But whatever he was thinking, she was sure it was the damn dress she was wearing that was at fault. Lynn began looking around for her clutch purse. It was a Coach purse. Michael bought it for her because it went so well with tonight's outfit. "Come outside with me for a minute," Michael said. "Only if it's because you're driving me home!" "Is that bastard still here? Did anybody call the cops yet?" Liz yelled. Sarah shouted back, "He's gone! Everything's okay! You can open the door!" Joe, who'd already been in the bathroom when Liz locked herself in, shouted back, "Nah! We're staying in here! We got a party going on! Right, baby?" "Idiot!" said Liz, slamming the bathroom door open and coming out with Joe right behind her. He'd always been hot for Liz, but unfortunately for him, she found him unattractive and immature. Basically, when she referred to him at all, it was to call him that 'skinny jerk Joe, who's always sniffing around me.' So she must have genuinely been scared of Rod if she was willing to share a bathroom with Joe. "I think I'm in love with you, Liz" said Joe, looking at her with as much sincerity as a sixteen-year-old possessed with the mind of a ten- year-old could muster. Liz ignored him. She looked around at everyone. "What are we doing about Rod? I know that guy. He just came to make trouble. Should we tell Mr. Vederer he's here tonight?" Mr. Vederer was the Assistant Principal at Pierce and his primary function was to discipline students when they misbehaved. He was tough. In fact, once, during a fight in the hall between Rod, his brother Brian and some of their rivals, he'd manhandled all three boys pretty easily. So Liz's suggestion really made a lot of sense, except for the fact that Rod wasn't a student anymore. "He doesn't go here anymore, Liz," said Sarah. "Then my first idea was right. We call the cops," Liz concluded. Michael, who would probably be a lawyer someday, and certainly thought like one on occasions like this, pointed out the obvious. "We could, but the problem is he hasn't broken any laws." Graham agreed. "Yeah. We can't get him busted just for showing his face." Everyone except Lynn stood there with their hands on their hips, staring at their shoes, trying to think of a way out of their dilemma. Lynn's purse was sitting on a chair. The only thought in her head was to get out of there. She grabbed the purse and made for the door, leaving her sweater behind in the rush to escape. That's when the lights went out and the fire alarm went off. It was all chaos after that. The green room went pitch black and the sprinklers began hissing and ejaculating water down on them with a steady rhythm. The girls screamed, the boys cursed Rod for a goddamned son-of-a-bitch, and everyone ran for the nearest exit. The corridor leading to the parking lot was jammed wall to wall with screaming kids. Once the petite and delicate Lynn merged into the crowd, she found it impossible to do anything but follow the flow, like an April leaf caught in the current of a surging stream. Her main concern was to keep her balance because if she stumbled in high heels she felt sure she'd be crushed to death by the increasingly panicky mass of adolescent humanity that was pushing hard against her and everyone else who was ahead of them. Water from the sprinkler system was accumulating on the hall floor, pooling in spots, and aggravating the risk of a fall. Lynn reasoned that it might be a good idea to take her shoes off altogether and run barefoot. The trick was to keep moving while she did it. She needed something or someone to anchor her. A husky fullback from Pierce's football team was right in front of her. She knew him by name, even though she didn't really know him. But disasters make for the most unlikely partnerships. Lynn had learned this from watching the film "Titanic" about a dozen times. Emboldened by desperation, and her familiarity with the film, Lynn called out to him. "Bronco! Help me!" Bronco turned his head, and saw this small, attractive girl trying to get his attention. Despite being a jock, he'd never been a hit with the hotties at Pierce due to his slow moving brain, ultra-horniness, and unstoppable body odor. He'd mostly had to settle for the dregs. Now this kid was a doll. He didn't recognize her, but she obviously knew him, and he'd be nuts to turn down a hot chiquita like that when she was in distress. "Hop on board, doll!" In a single smooth motion, Bronco swiveled from the hip, grabbed Lynn around the waist with both hands and threw her over his shoulder like a sack of feathers. He never missed a step doing it. With one arm securing her safely to his shoulder, he used the other to straight arm who ever was in front of him and bulled his way into the safety of the parking lot in no time. Once outside, Lynn's high heels slipped right off her feet and she didn't have to worry about them anymore. What did concern her were Bronco's hands. He had them both under her dress, and he was taking liberties, his busy fingers exploring her ankles, calves, thighs, and the surface of the silk panties covering her butt. All this was being done under the guise of keeping her securely over his shoulder while he found a good place to set her down. She was grateful to Bronco for saving her, so Lynn didn't mind him copping a casual feel. She felt he was entitled to it?to a point?just as long as he didn't start getting the idea that she was his love doll. "You can put me down anywhere," Lynn instructed, her voice muffled somewhat by Bronco's broad back. "Okay, baby girl!" Bronco brought Lynn's lithesome little body slowly down to the pavement, all the while sliding his huge, ham-like hands slowly up every inch of her, like he owned her. He kept his arms around her once she was standing up. She felt trapped. "You're an awesome little girl," Bronco said, meaning it. "But your hair's wet, and so's the top of your dress. I can see your nips poking out?no offense. Why don't we get in my car and I'll turn the heater on?dry you right out?get your hair and clothes looking all nice again and shit." Lynn may have been na?ve about some things, but she was savvy enough to suspect that Bronco's invitation was more about him expecting some form of payback for his help than about drying her clothes. If she were dumb enough to get into his car, then one thing would lead to another?at least some making out. Then again, he looked pretty horned up. He might want a lot more than just a lip lock. Things were getting too weird. Lynn looked around desperately. Where was Michael? Still stuck in the hallway she supposed. The only thing she could do was stall for time until she could get away from this Neanderthal playboy. But then she thought, to Bronco's credit, maybe he didn't know that she was with someone? After all, she'd been alone and asking for help when he first saw her in the hallway. She was the one who'd made the first move. Being both a jock and a dope, he'd probably thought she was unattached and on the make. Maybe this was all about false impressions. She'd clear it up right now. "Oh, thanks, Bronco! But I have to go look for my boyfriend. I came with my boyfriend, and then my boyfriend and I got separated, and my boyfriend's probably looking for me all over the place. See, I have this boyfriend and...." There was a ten second pause in the conversation, during which Lynn's words traveled from Bronco's ears into his brain for processing. Then Bronco looked like he was having a thought. At last, very carefully, very slyly, he said "Boyfriend? Yeah, I seen your boyfriend like just a few seconds ago." "You know my boyfriend?" asked Lynn, hoping against hope that Bronco was telling the truth. "Where did you see him?" "Over by my car." "Oh," Lynn replied, beginning to feel more and more helpless as a wave of 'Bronco-doom' spread over her body, leaving her almost paralyzed. More and more students were beginning to fill the parking lot. That was good. They were all potential witnesses. He wouldn't dare try anything with this many people around. Or was a crowd of this size, everyone overexcited, talking all at once, some of the girls crying, wringing the hems of their dresses out with their hands, merely adding to the intoxicating sense of anarchy that was taking over Bronco's cerebellum? Fire engines, sirens still blaring, blue white and red lights illuminating the crowd, added to the surrounding chaos as each truck began to nudge its way through the throng of milling kids and slog down the long driveway into the wide parking area behind the school. Abruptly, Bronco pulled Lynn towards him. She could feel the full seven inches of his desire pressing against her. "Let's go find him right now," Bronco said. Before Lynn could walk away or otherwise show any type of resistance, Bronco picked her up in his arms and began making for his car. It wasn't very far away, perhaps only fifty feet and he covered the distance with amazing speed, taking long strides with his powerful legs. Even though Lynn didn't feel secure being held like that, she refused to hold onto him, fearing that he'd think she was beginning to like the idea that she was being abducted. Boys often misread cues like that. So she just let her arms flop around and her head loll back as if she was Fay Wray in a dead faint and he was King Kong, carting her off to his cave on Skull Island. But she wasn't unconscious, of course. Basically, she was depressed. And very, very apprehensive about what was yet to come. Lynn realized that she'd both lost her purse and was about to be ravished. "God damn it!" Lynn said aloud, thinking back to the decision she'd made in the hall about trusting strangers in a crisis. "I'm never watching TITANIC again!" "What the hell are you talking about?" asked Bronco. "Nothing." "Then shut the fuck up, bitch!" Once they got to Bronco's car, the good news was that it was a convertible. How wild could things get in a convertible in the middle of a crowd scene? "The top on this baby goes up in under a minute," muttered Bronco, dumping Lynn in the back seat, where she cowered, shivering, disheveled, and completely at his mercy. "Plus I got all my windows smoked so we can have some privacy," Bronco added, flashing a toothy, leering smile as he studied his prey. There would be few males indeed whose hearts would not melt at the sight of Lynn in Bronco's back seat. Lips trembling, eyes bright with fear, tears angling across her cheeks, fingers of her right hand pressed against her heart, Lynn looked as fragile and vulnerable and helpless as any girl could look. But what Bronco saw was something quite different?more on the order of a succulent burger patty warming up on the broiler. With her legs drawn up in the way they were, he could see the crotch of her panties nestled between two silky soft white thighs. That delicious sight melded in turn into the curving globes of Lynn's two perfect butt cheeks, the rims of which circled back to the original target of his lustful eye. He interpreted Lynn's shallow breathing and trembling as excitement in anticipation of what was to come. He assumed that her waif-like emerald eyes were widened in admiration of his highly muscled and incredibly well-cut bod. Her tears must be tears of joy! In fact, he felt like crying for joy himself! Tonight was Bronco's night! Yes, sir! Tonight was Bronco's night to finally get him some pussy! So much for foreplay! As Bronco reached into the convertible to grab Lynn by the ankles and pull her crotch closer to the fly in his pants, her mind raced to remember the tips and hints she'd read in a booklet about how to avoid being raped. The booklet advised carrying a police whistle. She didn't have one, nor did she have any mace. The booklet also suggested that when all else failed she should try to go to the bathroom in her pants. No way she was going to do that. "I just want you to know I'm having my period, Bronco," she said. "Don't give a damn," replied Bronco. The booklet also recommended screaming for help. Screaming was good? provided her voice would carry over the tumult of noise going on around her. What should she scream? "MIIICHAAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLL!!!!" Bronco paid no attention. He was too busy unzipping his pants and whipping out his tool?which was very impressive?not only long but thick?with an immense tip nearly the size of a plum tomato such as those grown somewhere in the northwestern United States, where the soil is known to be radioactive and produces some extraordinarily large plum tomatoes. Bronco pulled Lynn's ankles up to a place near his own ears. His view was close enough to her lap now to notice what he presumed to be her clit pressing shyly against the gusset of her panties. Although not even remotely big enough to compare to what a boy had, hers seemed awfully large for such a small girl. But to him, this was merely one more sign that she was hot to trot. The girls with the biggest clits were nymphos. Everyone knew that. Poor Lynn took one good look at the grandeur of Bronco's super-sized sausage and promptly pretended to pass out?maybe that would work. So she didn't miss a thing when, watching it all through her eyelashes, she saw a boy she couldn't recognize in the darkness come up behind Bronco and tap him on the shoulder. When Bronco turned his head, smiling and ready to say that whoever it was could have a turn with Lynn as soon as he was finished with her, the boy sucker punched him in the face with his fist. Bronco's eyes rolled up in his head. He took a couple of steps backwards and then crumpled to the ground. The other boy studied Bronco's prone form for a moment, just to satisfy himself that Bronco wouldn't be getting up any time soon. "Pull your dress down and come with me," the boy said. Extending his hands towards her, he pulled her up over the side of the car and onto solid ground. Lynn's legs were shaky, but she could walk. And she willingly kept holding onto one of the mysterious boy's hands as he led her gently away, down a mildly sloping field of grass and towards the school ball field. Someone turned the nightlights on and the empty field became a beacon of bright, silent serenity in contrast to the mob scene they were leaving behind them. The boy seated Lynn on the one of the stadium benches near what would become the fifty-yard line during the football season and then sat beside her. Under the lights, Lynn could see him quite clearly. But she wasn't afraid. "Shouldn't you be half way out of town by now?" she asked. "Yeah. I suppose I would be," Rod Colletti answered. "Except tonight they caught my brother Brian red handed when he set off the fire alarm. So this time I didn't have to take the rap for him." "It was always Brian?" Lynn asked, connecting the dots. "He's a fire bug. What can I say?" Then Rod looked deeply into Lynn's eyes. "Lots of people got something kinky going on in their brain." "I'm a girl," Lynn answered simply. Then she shrugged and smiled. "Anyway, thanks for saving me from a fate worse than death." Rod took a deep breath. He looked like he was about to tell Lynn something very important, something that he'd kept bottled up inside himself for a long time. But a look of resignation came over his face and he exhaled. "Oh, you're welcome," he said. "What the hell! I been meaning to deck that guy since the second time I was in ninth grade." By ones and twos and in small groups, people from the concert were beginning to drift down the slope towards the field. Rod saw them coming. He stood up. "Listen, Lynn! Those people don't know the real story. I gotta get outta here before I get lynched! But before I go, I just wanna say...," and there he stopped speaking. Lynn rose, too. Rod was a good foot taller than she was. She had to look up at him, and looking up at him in that way, his face being so much higher than hers was, gave her own upturned face an expression of total expectant innocence--- not that she wasn't still innocent, despite everything that had happened to her that night. Rod began to speak again. "I just wanted to say good luck, and I really wanted to see you perform tonight. That really sucks. That you missed out doing the concert tonight, I mean. You're a great singer, and you're a very beautiful girl, and I hope you get a break somewhere down the line, cause you really deserve it." "Thank you, Rod!" Lynn said. She stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. "I wish you something really good, too!" "Thanks!" Rod turned and began jogging into the vacant space that divided the seats in the midfield stands. He jogged deeper and deeper into the shadows until Lynn couldn't see him anymore. That's when it finally struck her that Rod had called her a girl, just as casually as he would have said it to any other girl. "Hey, girl!" "What?" Lynn turned and saw Michael and the rest of Mr. DiGisco's musical cast coming towards her. They all seemed pretty happy, even if they looked a little bedraggled. "What are you all so smiley and happy about?" Lynn asked, completely bewildered. Then, remembering everything she'd just been put through tonight, she placed her hands on her hips and tapped her foot. She gave Michael a glaring look. "Just where have you been?" Michael's smile vanished. "We couldn't help it! They closed off the rear exits and sent everyone who was in the hall back into the auditorium and out the front of the building. After that they put up a bunch of tape and we were stuck and we just had to stand around until the firemen were convinced there wasn't any fire. The school's still sealed off..." "Oh?" Lynn asked, rather cynically. "We've all been trying to find you," Liz explained. "It's just that the ball field was the last place we'd expect you to be," said Graham. "Besides, you're the one who got herself into a panic and ran out the door first. If you'd stayed with us, everything would've been fine," said Elaine the bitch, adding "Oh, by the way, weren't you just sitting over on the bench with some guy? Who was that guy?" "I don't know who he was?I think he goes to Catholic school?he was here to see the concert.... We were just sitting there talking about what happened." Lynn improvised as she went along. "He said he didn't want to leave me alone in the dark. Then we saw you guys coming and...and I told him I knew you and you were my friends... so... he went home." Elaine gave Lynn a look that said she-knew-exactly-who-the-boy-was-so- stop-futzing-around-right-now. "He looked familiar," she insinuated, getting ready to expose her suspicions to the rest of the group. Lynn did some quick mental calculations and concluded that it was going to be her word against Elaine's. No one else had gotten a good look at the boy, and everyone knew Elaine would leap at any chance to create trouble between Lynn and Michael. Besides, they wouldn't really care, anyway. They'd just write it off as Elaine being her bitchy self as usual, and move on to something else more interesting. After all, there were plenty of other things to talk about. Like the fact that Mr. DiGisco and the band were coming down onto the field. "Look! The Band's coming!" shouted Joe. Sarah grabbed Lynn by the shoulders and gushed the big news. "Mr. DiGisco said he was going to bring the band onto the ball field and have the concert here!" "What?" screamed Lynn, raising her hands up to her cheeks. "Yes! Yes!" screamed Lynn. "We told everyone to come!" "And they're all coming! See!" yelled Graham, pointing to a mass of people poised to stampede down the slope. "Oh, my God! Oh, my God!" screamed Lynn, hopping up and down. "I can't believe it!" "Believe it!" yelled Joe. "No wonder you all looked so happy!" Coming forward, Michael embraced Lynn and kissed her. Then he looked her right in the eye and said, "See? I told you everything was going to work out tonight." It hadn't, of course. Not in any way, really. But Lynn didn't want to burst his bubble. She knew boys had a hard time about being wrong, and from this point on it was going to be her role in life to encourage them when their confidence was fading, and to prop them up when they were failing. She might as well start right now. Lynn hugged Michael right back. "You're so smart!" "I know!" Michael replied, nodding too much and smiling like a goof. "I lost my shoes," said Lynn. "I'll have to dance barefoot." "You'll be great," Michael reassured her. "I left my sweater in the Green Room." "We'll come back and get it tomorrow. Besides, it's warmer now than it was this afternoon. You won't need it." "I can't find my purse," Lynn confessed, leaving out the part about Bronco. "I'll buy you another one," Michael promised. "Do I look okay?" Lynn asked, fluffing her hair with her fingers. By way of an answer, Michael drew her to him and began to kiss her. Tonight's kiss was different. It was passionately insistent. He was passionately insistent. His tongue searched her mouth, and his hands slid down her back and onto her bottom and pressed her against him. He wanted her close enough to feel the proof of just how utterly happy and excited he was to be with her. Lynn did not resist, and her body melted against his. ***** Mr. DiGisco assigned the band members to places in the stands, horns over here, strings over there. The tech kids, some of whom might someday walk the halls of MIT or Stanford, and others of whom might end up working behind the counter in your local electronics store, planted microphones and speakers all over the field and got the sound system up and running in no time. The lights were already on. The performers took their places. Mr. DiGisco wiggled his baton. The overture began. It was show time. Only about half the students and guests who'd been in the audience before the fire alarm went off had stayed to become a part of yet another soon to be mythic moment in the history of Franklin Pierce High School. And that just made the event more intimate, more special. There were no inspiring speeches, there was no cheering. No one looked glamorous. In fact, after being thoroughly doused by the sprinklers, everyone looked pretty much like something the cat dragged in. That didn't matter. No one was there to impress anyone anymore. They were all there to have a good time no matter what. They were there to celebrate the light and to banish the darkness. They were there because, lame as it might sound, they loved their school. As soon as the first song was half way sung, several couples in the audience began dancing. The line between performers and audience started to blur. By the time it was Lynn and Michael's turn to sing "I've Got That Loving Feeling Again," everyone found a partner of his or her own and started to dance. Sarah danced with Graham, and Liz danced with that skinny jerk Joe. Trudy was dancing with Bobbi, the new girls' gym teacher?even the loners and the untouchables paired off. It was quite a sight. There's a nut for every bolt. Rod Colletti stood on the opposite slope from where the unconscious Bronco still reclined, with his right fist firmly wrapped around his erect dick. Rod was still planning to run away, but he couldn't resist taking one last look at someone he would probably never see again. Patiently, he scanned the crowd from right to left and left to right, couple by couple, until he saw the auburn haired girl in the off-white dress and knew he was watching Lynn dancing with Michael. He smiled to see her down there. He admitted to himself that she was sweet, and that he enjoyed looking at her. Gradually the smile faded. "That guy she's with, he's got money and charm and a great future, and that's why he's got the girl. And what have I got?" Rod asked himself. "I got ungatz." Then Rod turned and walked quickly away and this time he didn't look back. Down on the field, Lynn was having a wonderful time. The air was scented with the smell of the season's last lilacs. The band was playing something very old about stars and dust, and she could see the stars and the stars could see her. Best of all, she was in the arms of the boy she loved. Well, maybe she loved him. She'd see how she felt about it tomorrow. END