by Karen Gordon
They continued down the line till there were only two tulle balls left. She couldn’t see her, but Carrie could feel Joelle’s stare burning a hole in her back. Jealous waves rolled in from the refreshment end of the gym.
♥ ♪ ♥
“Don’t fall Carrie!”
She almost did when she flinched. That could only be MG’s loud voice screaming at her from the entrance.
“Nice balls, girl, are those blue?” It was obvious MG had already started drinking, she was on a roll. Carrie couldn’t help but laugh. Not only was the comment damn funny, but she would love to turn around and see the looks on the faces of the gym full of prepsters and Jesus freaks.
Because he loved to point out the obvious, Pat said, “Um, your friends are here.”
Friends? Plural? MG didn’t come alone? “Dude, it works better if your face is turned the other way,” was Steve’s helpful tip for Ben, “and make slow circles with your tongue,” he shouted.
Carrie almost did fall off Ben she was laughing so hard. But Ben held tighter to her thighs, which was a good thing because he was beet red but shaking with laughter too.
“Enough!” She twisted around as far as she could and shouted at Steve and MG and some other really big, scary looking guy who was with them. She had never seen him before.
“How about you let me take over, and I’ll show you how it’s done.” Steve was still talking to Ben’s back. Carrie squeezed her legs tighter around his chest and back, letting him know she wanted him to stay. “I’m almost done,” she shouted to her friends as she finished tying that tulle ball then Ben moved to the last one without prompting. As she was tying the last knot she noticed the gym had gotten very quiet. She leaned down so only Ben could hear her. “Can you squat down so I can get off?”
He looked up at her as he squatted, “You want me to get you off?” He was smiling, really proud of his sexual joke. Carrie smiled back then swung her leg over his head and jumped onto the stage.
MG let out a whoop and held her arms above her head like she had just performed an Olympic dismount. “That’s a 10. I’ll give her a 10 for that dismount.”
Her cheer was the only noise because everyone else in the gym had stopped working and was staring at her friends in horror. As if the sexual comments weren’t bad enough, the new guy with them had tattoos on his arms, a big scar near his ear and muscles that were bulging out of his black tee shirt. He looked like some sort of monster in the purple fairy castle of the little high school people.
Ignoring the stares and wanting to get out of there, Carrie walked toward them with the intention of continuing out the door and straight to Chuck’s house.
“What’s up?” Ben’s voice came from behind her. He was talking to Steve, but keeping an eye on the big guy. He came in close and stood directly behind Carrie.
Always in a good mood, and probably high too, Steve smiled and slurred, “Not much. You?”
“Who’s your friend?”
No, really? Did Ben really just say that? He was such an overprotective dad/kid.
“This is my brother, Stony.” The big guy glared at Steve, “Tony, I mean, Tony.” Tony ignored Ben and focused his attention completely on Carrie. He smiled at her, revealing tar stained teeth, “Hey.” He nodded his head, checking her out, liking what he was looking at.
Ben stuck out his hand toward Tony, pushing Carrie to the side. “Nice to meet you.” He said in a voice that was anything but civil and pleasant.
Carrie felt trapped in the twilight zone of her two worlds colliding. She had heard of Stony. This was Steve’s brother who had been in jail for dealing. Chuck and some of the older guys always talked about how great Stony was, probably because he was their dealer. Steve never really talked about him. Ben needed to leave him alone.
Ben stepped forward toward Stony like he could intimidate him. OK, he was the same height, but tattoo man had at least 50 pounds on him.
MG looked at Ben like he was crazy, then turned to Carrie, “I forgot to bring your clothes, they’re at Chuck’s.” She hoisted the motorcycle helmet she was holding up to show Carrie, “We brought the motorcycles.”
Two things became clear; one, Carrie didn’t want to wait around and change clothes here at school anyway. That would give Ben more time to aggravate Stony. And two, if MG rode here with Steve, they expected her to ride to Chuck’s with Stony. Fuck!
She grabbed MG’s arm and made a bee line for the doors. Steve followed. Stony took a minute to stare down at Ben, then smiled like he thought the whole thing was funny, and turned to leave. She tried to keep her eyes trained straight ahead, but a noise in the refreshment area caught her attention, and Carrie turned to see the look of smug disgust on Joelle’s face as she watched Stony walk across the gym floor.
Chapter 10
It was a typical Friday night at Chuck’s house. His mom had moved out to live with her boyfriend, leaving Chuck with a free party house and venue for his band. Ever since Carrie had started coming over to party at his house, Chuck had been working on getting his band going. When his house was full of people on the weekends, Carrie would always find him, in the basement, on the make-shift stage, arguing with his band mates, and playing parts of cover songs that were so bad they were unrecognizable. Not that most of the people at the party noticed or cared; there was enough liquor, pot, speed, and acid to keep everyone happy.
Carrie couldn’t wait to get away from Stony, who made it more than obvious that he was interested in her on the ride over. He drove fast, so she would have to hang on tight, then he kept moving her hand to his crotch and laughing when she would move it away. Gross!
She decided to skip changing clothes and went straight for the giant raspberry slushie and Everclear MG had hidden for her in the freezer. She had some catching up to do. Goal number one was avoiding Stony, number two was fighting the crowd on the basement steps to find Chuck. She knew his band sucked and would never go anywhere, but it still gave her a thrill to be the lead singer’s girlfriend. As always, there were a few scary-looking burnout girls dancing in front of him, pudgy middles and flat chests coming out of their ripped concert shirts, hoping for his attention. This was her favorite part of the night; he winked at her and smiled when he spotted her. The girls turned too, eyeing up the competition. Now she wished she had changed into her skinny jeans and high heels and fixed her make-up. Those girls would hate her anyway, why not make herself stand out more as not one of them.
Casey and Gina made room for her on the grubby couch next to the stage, and she relaxed. This was exactly where she wanted to be; next to her friends, watching her cute boyfriend try to sing, sipping on her sweet, icy cocktail. For her group of friends, Chuck’s parties were more about observation than participation. There was no need to drop acid or get stoned when a little alcohol buzz was all it took to enjoy this human freak show.
Carrie was half listening to Gina telling Casey about the car she was going to inherit from her grandma when a new girl dancing in front of Chuck caught her attention. This girl wasn’t some homely wallflower, and she definitely had Chuck’s attention. Carrie had met her before, here at a party. A few weeks earlier she had stood in line behind her waiting for the bathroom. Her name was something that reminded Carrie of sweet, Candy, no, Candice that was it. She bitched to Carrie during a long wait about a speeding ticket she had gotten that day and how she tried to get out of it by crying and telling the cop that she needed the money for her kid’s daycare. Kid? When, really, she was pulling in like a couple hundred a night between her time on stage and lap dances. Lap dances? Carrie just kept nodding her head, like she completely understood where Candice was coming from. It’s amazing the shit people will tell you if you don’t interrupt them.
So, Candice was back, and had clearly set her sights on someone in the band, because she was now hanging sideways from the basement support pole and opening her legs wide, crotch facing the band. She paid no attention to the fact that she narrowly missed kicking a few girls as she s
wung around, putting on her show. In a way it was really sleazy, and in a way impressive. Damn she must have strong legs and arms. When she flipped upside down, her head just inches from the concrete floor, Carrie, Casey, Gina and MG all looked at each other with eyebrows raised in both disgust and fascination. So this is what strippers do.
Red-headed, Irish, Sophomore Brian was on the far side of the impromptu dance floor, slack-jawed and transfixed by Candice. When she landed in full splits on the floor, ending her routine, Brian stumbled toward her. Carrie had never seen him at one of Chuck’s parties before, and he looked like he was in a little over his head.
Casey noticed him too and called him over to the couch. His head flopped in their direction, and he gave them a very lopsided smile.
“Brian, my man, how’s it going?” He smiled at Casey but didn’t answer.
“What have you been drinking?” Brian looked down at the bottle in his hand, to see what it was. He was too wasted to read the label so he held it up in front of Casey,
“Jagermeister!” She tried to hide her shock and nodded, “Good choice.”
She turned to the other girls with a comical look of fear on her face.
“How did you get here?” He slurred something, but Casey couldn’t understand, so she stood up to be closer and hear over the noise. “I had my mom drop me off at the park. I walked.”
“OK. Good. And how are you getting home?”
“I’m gonna call my mom and walk back to the park,” he smiled at his clever plan.
“Brian, babe, I think she is going to know you’ve been drinking.”
He looked at Casey like she really dropped a bombshell on his plan. “Really?” “Uh, yeah.” She took the bottle from his hand, and he didn’t seem to notice. Gina took it from her and took a swig before passing it to some guy standing next to her, who took a swig and passed it along.
Casey talked into Brian’s ear then turned to the girls, “He’s going to call his mom and tell her he has a ride home, then we need to take him to eat some food.” The girls all nodded. Casey grabbed his hand to lead him to the steps. He wasn’t a very big guy at all, but he was still bigger than tiny 5’, 90 lb, Casey. Gina, Carrie and MG got up and formed a huddle around him to help her guide him up the stairs.
The trip up the stairs was a sloppy giggle-fest as Brian weaved, stumbled and fell and the girls pushed and pulled. In the kitchen Casey propped him up near the phone. “What’s your number?” It took a lot of coaxing, but eventually he remembered enough digits to make an entire phone number. When a woman answered, Casey handed the phone to Brian, who slurred out a very happy, “Hi mom!” All four girls choked out a loud laugh at him trying to sound sober. “Um, hey,” he paused to glare at the giggling girls. “Yeah, um, I’ve got a ride home.” And that was the end of the conversation because Brian shot a stream of Jaeger vomit all over the phone and the wall behind it. The girls scattered to avoid the mess and roared with laughter. Even half sober, Carrie was laughing so hard she was crying. Brian just stood there, dumbfounded, like he couldn’t figure out how this puke-covered phone handset got in his hand. When he started to look sick again, Casey grabbed his clean hand and propelled him out the back door.
MG and Casey decided to drive him to get some food then home, providing he could remember where home was. Neither Carrie nor Gina wanted to ride next to Brian, so they decided to stay at the party. MG promised to come and pick them up later.
By the time Carrie worked her way back downstairs, the band had reached the point where they were too wasted to play anymore. Chuck was sitting on the couch, pushed up against Candice, who was almost on Mike, the drummer’s, lap. She was playing with Chuck’s hair while she whispered something in Mike’s ear. He grinned and nodded at her and Chuck. Enough of this shit. Carrie marched over and plopped herself in Chuck’s lap.
His “Hey baby” had a guilty ring to it, but she ignored it. This was when she finally got his attention, when she got to be that girl, the one who got the guy all the other girls wanted. She leaned in and kissed him, ignoring his beer-pot-cigarette breath in favor of putting on a good show for the pole-dancing queen. He kissed her back, and she was just starting to enjoy the sensation when he reached his hand up her shirt and started caressing her nipple. She lost focus on the kiss because she could feel Mike and Candice watching. Sure enough, she looked up and they were paying attention to Chuck’s hand, still groping under her bra. Damn it! She debated her options; push his hand away, which would make him mad and her look like a childish prude, or let him keep groping, and feel like she was putting on a sex show of her own for Candice to watch. She went with option three. She got up off his lap and pulled him up behind her, then toward the stairs, clearly headed for his bedroom. Not where she really wanted to go, but it was better than her other two choices.
♥ ♪ ♥ Ten minutes later Carrie was wondering for the thousandth time how the weird stain got on the ceiling of Chuck’s bedroom. Sometime after they had started having sex she decided it looked like a brown and yellow snowman. And here she was again; another night ending with her more interested in the ceiling stain than Chuck, who was groping at her boobs while he pounded away at her ‘til he made his usual whimpering noise, stiffened for a moment, then collapsed on top of her. Was this what everyone else is so excited about? Really? Maybe there was something wrong with her. Then again, maybe everyone else was faking how much they liked it, just like she was. Maybe MG was lying about how Steve could make her come, and how great it felt. Carrie could make herself come, but sex with Chuck felt nothing like that. It wouldn’t matter how long he pushed in and out of her, it wasn’t going to happen.
She just didn’t let it bother her all that much. She loved hanging out at Chuck’s house with her friends and all the crazy people who showed up, and she loved being the girlfriend of the cute lead singer. Wild, screaming, tear-at-the-sheets sex was probably just made up for romance novels anyway. Chapter 11
For Ben, being the only one of his friends to have a girlfriend had more disadvantages than advantages. With Pat and Wayne it was either, “You spend too much time with her,” or “Can’t you set us up with some of her friends.”
So every Friday night for the past month Ben and his friends had been going to a new youth group program at Joelle’s church. The idea was to find religion and be saved, Pat and Wayne just wanted to find girls. And there were prospects in the group. Pat liked Stephanie and Wayne had his eye on Laura, but between the fact that the program didn’t exactly promote guys and girls flirting, and neither guy knew how to hit on a girl anyway, it was slow going.
At first Ben liked going. It was a chance to be with Joelle, at her church, where she was happiest. But lately, he had started to feel uncomfortable there. The youth group leader seemed to pay a lot more attention to him, like he was on a personal mission to make sure Ben got the idea of the course. And Joelle’s family had started acting like it was now a foregone conclusion that he would be joining their church, which he had no intention of doing. He was invited to spend all day Sunday with them, starting with church in the morning, then a big meal at their house (with the preacher) and then back to church for bible study that night. It was getting overwhelming, and he hated leaving his mom alone all day on one of the few days he wasn’t at school.
The other side of the coin was that he felt closer to Joelle than ever before. The more he became part of her world, the more she would kiss him and sit on his lap and let him touch her without making him feel like some sort of pervert. He knew she wanted to wait ‘til she was married to have sex. He was fine with that, but he really liked making out with her. When she had allowed it, it felt great. He never intended to keep pushing her farther, but he would just sort of lose his head when she was clinging to him, her body rubbing against his, kissing him. It was a frustrating addiction for him and he was finally starting to feel like it might be for her too; that maybe she actually liked it.
At the Friday night youth party before Thanksgiving bre
ak, Pastor Jim announced that they had been asked to put together a nativity play for the Christmas service. Joelle almost jumped out of her seat with excitement.
“I wanna be Mary. I’ve always wanted to be Mary,” she whispered excitedly to Ben. He smiled, but sincerely hoped that didn’t mean she wanted him to be Joseph, or be in it at all. He really didn’t like the idea of dressing up and performing.
“Go for it, you’d be great.” He whispered back, nudging her ear with his lips, enjoying flirting with her in secret. Joelle leaned into him then smiled as she jumped up to volunteer to be part of the pageant. If she wanted to be Mary, she would make it happen. She had drive and passion and never did anything half way. Sure he took a lot of ribbing because she was so vocal about having a purity pledge, but he even admired her for that. He liked it that she stuck by her convictions.
After the meeting he avoided Pastor Jim by making sure that Pat and Wayne knew they had to find their own rides home. Tonight he needed to be alone with Joelle. He had a gift for her, and he wanted to give it to her when they were alone. And after that he was hoping for a reaction from her that could only happen if his friends weren’t in the backseat of his jeep.
When he pulled into her driveway, he strategically parked behind her mom’s SUV so they couldn’t be seen from the front windows. He left the engine running so they would stay warm and she wouldn’t feel the need to keep her coat zipped up and her gloves on.
He felt to make sure her gift was in his pocket for the hundredth time. “Do you remember what tomorrow is?” He knew she did, she was the one that started reminding him of their one year dating anniversary weeks ago.
Joelle smiled, “Our one year.”
“Yep,” Ben smiled back then reached into his pocket and pulled out the little box, “I got you something.” He handed it to her, then leaned away, his back against his door. Giving gifts always made him nervous. He wasn’t very good at reading people, and he was never sure he got the right thing. He was pretty sure she wanted this. One of her friends had one, and Joelle had said positive things about it. She was turning the small box around in her hand.