Class of 1983: A Young Adult Time Travel Romance

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Class of 1983: A Young Adult Time Travel Romance Page 16

by Victoria Maxwell

“I do know, it’s OK, your secret is safe with me,” she tapped the side of her nose like a moron and realized she was actually pretty drunk.

  “Uh, OK,” said Ben passing her a glass of water that someone had ordered rounds ago and never touched.

  “But I think you should stop,” Peggy said.

  “Stop? How can I stop Peg?” he screwed up his face in frustration as he downed the rest of his beer. He grabbed her arm and made her look at him. “Please,” he pleaded, his eyes flickering around the bar. “Please, don't tell anybody.”

  “Of course I won't, I won't tell a soul.” Peggy drunkenly zipped her lip. “But you need to stop taking them.”

  “Peg, what the hell are you talking about?”

  “Steroids,” she whispered.

  Ben laughed. “I’m not on steroids!”

  “Oh,” she made a face at him. “What can't you stop then? If it's not the steroids?”

  “So, you and Sammy,” Ben gestured towards the bar changing the subject.

  Peggy blushed. “Why would you think that?”

  Ben raised his eyebrows. “Are you denying it?”

  If she had had just one less toxic waste or screwdriver, or if she could even remember how many she'd had, she may have answered differently.

  “No, I’m not denying it.” She looked into her drink and slurped it dry.

  “Just, well, watch out for Sammy Ruthven.”

  A sip of her drink caught in her throat and she began to cough.

  “You OK?” Ben put a hand on her back and began to whack her much too forcefully in the hope he'd dislodge something. She nodded and looked up at the bar while Ben rubbed her back. Sammy was watching with a curious expression.

  “Why?” she asked, coughing and putting her hand to her chest. “What do you mean, watch out for him?”

  “Sammy is great, Peg. I mean, he's one of my best friends, he's an awesome guy, but he's awesome as a friend. I've seen how he is with girls, he's just, he doesn't do it on purpose.”

  “Do what on purpose?”

  “Screw people around. He gets bored. He gets attention, he gets what he wants, then he gets bored.”

  “Oh, sure.” Peggy fumbled in her clutch purse and scowled. No text message was going to help make this awkward conversation come to an end. She threw the purse across the broken leather seat.

  “I like you Peg,” Ben leant towards her his big brown eyes filled with kindness.

  “Oh, what?” asked Peggy pulling away slightly.

  “Not like that!” He pulled his hands away and held them up. “I just mean that I think you're rad. Like as a friend, and I don't want to see you get screwed around. You deserve better than that. And if something happens and it goes wrong it’ll be all weird like it is with Rochelle, and we were all really good friends before everything went weird with that.”

  She knew he was right. She should stay as far away as possible from Sammy Ruthven. Future Janet even warned her away from him so no good must come from any of this. But then, if future Janet knew that something was going to happen between Peggy and Sammy then how could she change that? How could she change anything that was destined to happen to her? If the future already knew this was going to happen, she couldn't change it even if she wanted to. Could she?

  The headache.

  “Do you want another beer?” Peggy asked looking for an escape from this conversation that was hurting her heart and her brain.

  “Maybe a Jack and Coke, and could you get me some change for the jukebox?”

  Just as Peggy approached the bar the guys in the biker jackets walked off, leaving Sammy on his own at the other end of the bar.

  “Hey,” she shouted over as she tried to casually lean against the bar.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Having a good night?” Was this the best she could do? She frowned a little.

  “Yeah,” he replied.

  He was clearly not interested in having a conversation with her, so she went ahead and ordered her drinks.

  “He's just so gorgeous I can't even believe he's alive, he must be an angel with like, his wings clipped or something. I mean, not just an angel, but really an angel.” Lacey was hardly making sense as she wobbled her way towards the bar.

  Peggy handed Lacey another toxic waste, although she was unsure if it was a good idea, probably better to cut her off, but Lacey seemed like the kind of girl who could look after herself.

  “He's no Sammy Ruthven I suppose,” she winked and waved over Peggy's shoulder at him. Peggy turned around to see him engaged in conversation with yet another blonde girl serving at the bar and rolled her eyes, deciding to give up on him right then and there.

  “He hasn't said one word to me since we got here. Well, he has said a few words, but not a full sentence.” Peggy said quietly.

  “Sammy Ruthven doesn't speak in full sentences,” yelled Lacey. “He communicates through smirks and subtle eyebrow movements.”

  Peggy laughed. “Come back when you're done flirting with this guy,” she gestured towards the blonde guy that was headed Lacey's way. Peggy was halfway back to the table when she realized she'd forgotten to get change for the jukebox, but it didn't matter. Ben had obviously found some change as he was back on the dance floor dancing like a maniac to the song of the same name.

  Peggy nearly dropped the drinks on the table, she was in fits of hysterics watching Ben attempt to climb the fireman's pole. She sat back at the empty booth and watched him for a while, giggling at his antics and the looks on the faces of everyone watching him.

  “Hey,” said Sammy as he slid into the booth next to her.

  “Oh, hey,” she said.

  Peggy sipped on her drink, trying to ignore him and instead tried to focus her wobbly gaze on Ben's performance on the dance floor.

  “You're not really from Canada, are you?” he asked.

  “Nope.” She had no idea why she had said that. Later she would curse that moment and wish she could go back in time and change it, but time travel didn’t work that way.

  “Didn't think so.” He took a swig of his drink. He leaned in closer to her. He smelt of alcohol and cigarettes, and aftershave and hair gel, and like outside on a summer's day even though they were in a dark bar. And it was completely intoxicating.

  “How did you know?” she asked.

  “My dad is from Canada. You don't have an accent. Like, at all.”

  Three sentences. Nearly. This was going very well.

  “Oh,” she said.

  “So?”

  “So, what?”

  “So, where are you from?”

  “I'm from the future. But you can't tell anyone. I'm not supposed to talk about it.”

  Silence.

  “You're drunk,” he finally said.

  “A bit,” she said.

  “You're different,” he said.

  “Different?”

  “You’re different from a lot of girls around here. Wherever you're from, it's gotta be kinda different.” He ran his hand through the back of his hair releasing a little more of his scent in Peggy's direction.

  “That’s funny, because I am kind of from here actually…” Peggy began.

  “Hey guys,” said Tricia appearing out of nowhere. “Did you see Ben on the dance floor? What a fool.”

  “Hey Trish,” Sammy said. “Can you get us some more drinks?”

  “I just got here and it’s my round already?”

  “Looks like it,” said Sammy.

  “I’m OK,” said Peggy waving her green cocktail around.

  “I’m so bored,” Lacey said returning to the booth.

  “Where’s angel boy?” Peggy asked.

  “Flew away I guess.”

  “I wanna dance.” Peggy stood up and realized again how drunk she was. She steadied herself and stumbled off towards the dance floor, Lacey and Ben following after her.

  Ben grabbed Peggy and spun her around, Lacey linked elbows with her and spun her in the other direction. She laughed h
ysterically and then suddenly felt like she was going to be sick.

  “I think I need to sit down!” she shouted at Lacey through the crowd. Pushing through the sweaty smoke screen that was the dance floor she headed to the table to sit. Just to sit. She'd be fine in a minute. Everyone was gone from the table and she stumbled towards it. She just needed a minute.

  “Hey sexy,” said Jonas as he collected the empty glasses from the table.

  “Hi,” she managed.

  “You OK sexy?” He seemed concerned. It was sweet. He was so sweet, who cared what he looked like? He was so nice to her. He actually talked to her. Sammy never talked to her. Maybe Jonas could be her boyfriend. But no, she loved Sammy. But then Sammy didn't know she was alive.

  “I'll be fine in a minute,” she told him. As the room spun around her, she tried to see where Sammy was. She couldn't see him anywhere and it made her sad to think he'd gone, she almost had to stop herself from crying. Crying because a boy she liked left a bar early? She was drunk. She was a mess.

  “You’re in a bad way,” Jonas said putting his arm around her, the smell of him making her almost retch, didn't this guy shower? He ran his hand across her face, pushing her hair behind her ear. It made her shiver, and not in a good way.

  Leaning in closer he whispered in her ear, “wanna go outside?”

  She nodded, she needed air. She’d be safe with this guy at least, he worked here. And her friends were around here somewhere, weren’t they?

  He wrapped his arm around her waist tightly. “You're so hot,” he said as he cradled her head in his hands.

  She knew something was up, but she was just too drunk to work it out. She had a feeling she needed to get away from him. But how? Go where? So instead, she just stood there, letting him do that to her, even though on some level she knew it was gross and wrong.

  The next thing she knew a salty rough tongue was thrusting around in her mouth and making her want to gag. She tried to push him off her, but he was holding her too tight. She struggled but she didn’t have the strength to get away.

  He loosened his grip suddenly and Peggy was sent flying into the table, bounced off it and landed on the floor. She heard screaming and cheering from above her and looked up just in time to see Sammy Ruthven punch Jonas so hard in the face that he fell onto the ground right in front of her, his face all messed up and bloody. Jonas looked at her, opened his mouth and spat out a tooth.

  Peggy screamed.

  “Oh my god!” screamed Lacey, running over to her. “What the hell just happened?”

  “We gotta go,” Sammy said, grabbing Peggy's other arm. “Get her up!”

  Sammy took her under one arm, and Ben under the other while Nick, Lacey and Tricia followed behind, out of the bar and across the street to the parking lot.

  * * *

  “Jesus Sammy, you nearly killed that guy!” Tricia said, her voice oozing respect.

  “He's a dick,” said Sammy fuming.

  “No joke,” said Nick, “but he’s also an Eight.”

  “I know what he is, and he deserved what he got,” Sammy said, unlocking the passenger side door of the Firebird.

  “What did he do?” Lacey asked. “What the hell happened? And what the hell is an Eight?”

  “Jonas was... kissing her,” Sammy said.

  “Holy hell Ruthven, you knocked him out for kissing her? He was flirting with her all night!” Lacey said.

  “I know what I saw Lace, and it was in no way consensual.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Look at her!” Sammy dropped her as gently as possible into the front seat.

  Lacey looked at her new best friend slumped in the car. Her head rolling around on the headrest for a moment before going still.

  “She's not breathing!” Lacey screamed. Ben and Tricia came rushing to the other side of the car.

  “Don't be an airhead Lacey. She's fine, just passed out drunk,” Tricia said.

  “Oh,” Lacey leaned her cheek against Peggy's mouth just to make sure. “Yeah, yeah. I think she's still alive. OK.”

  “What are you going to do with her?” asked Tricia.

  “Take her home. Do you guys need a ride?” Sammy asked.

  “If you guys are cool, I'm gonna go get a burger from Dee's,” Ben said. “Unless you need me?”

  “Nah, go get your burger,” Sammy said.

  “I could use some red meat, I’ll come with,” Tricia said.

  “Lacey?” asked Sammy.

  “I'll come with you, I wanna make sure you don’t try anything,” said Lacey sliding into the back seat.

  “I don’t need to wait until a girl is paralytic before I try something.” Sammy got in and started the engine.

  “Are you going to tell me what an Eight is or what?” Lacey asked, folding her arms and glaring at him in the rear-view mirror.

  “He’s a Crazy Eight.”

  “Well, he’s definitely crazy.”

  “As in the Crazy Eights of Paradise County,” Sammy explained.

  “The biker gang?” she shrieked.

  “The one and only.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I’ve got friends who are Eights. Well, maybe not anymore.”

  “If you really punched out an Eight, Sammy, that’s not good. They are going to come after you. They won’t rest until they get revenge.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?”

  “You should have just let him kiss her.”

  “Shut up Lacey.” Sammy raised his voice only slightly, but it was enough to shut her up.

  * * *

  Lacey had passed out in the back seat by the time he got to Miss Bates’ house. These girls were a total mess.

  Sammy hated the idea of doing what he needed to do, but ringing the doorbell and getting Miss Bates to come down and see her like this would be worse. Peggy would never be able to go out again, especially anywhere with him, and that was not something he could let happen.

  He took a deep breath as he looked in her purse for the house key.

  Walking up to the front door he said a quick prayer for her to get in safely and silently before unlocking the door and leaving it slightly ajar behind him.

  He lifted her out of the car, being as gentle as possible, but it was hard. She wasn't a big girl, but she was no waif either. He carried her across the threshold, and then stood in the doorway wondering where to put her. He had no idea where she slept, or where Miss Bates slept. Noticing the stairs to his right he sighed, he was not going to get her up those stairs in this state. At least not silently. He checked the room to the left and carried her to the couch, which was perfectly made as a bed, complete with pajamas folded on the edge.

  He lifted the blanket and the pajamas and dropped her gently onto the couch. There was no way he was getting her changed, although the thought did cross his mind. Falling asleep in her clothes was something she could explain to her aunt in the morning. This was the best he could do for now.

  He tucked her in and pushed the hair away from her face. She was damn pretty. What the hell, he thought, and he gave her a slow lingering kiss on the forehead. Panic rose in his chest as she mumbled something. It sounded like a name... Jack? He sighed, swore under his breath, and then he got the hell out of there before his English teacher came downstairs.

  Twenty-Seven

  The Walkman

  The sound of the doorbell rang in her ears, splitting her head into pieces. She covered her head with the pillow, waiting for Janet to come downstairs and answer the door. It rang again. Where was Janet? On the third ring, she opened her eyes. Sun streamed through the curtains which hadn't been closed the night before and blinded her. She lifted the covers. She was still in her dress from last night and now that she thought about it, she had no idea how she'd gotten home.

  She slowly got herself into a seated position and managed to push herself to standing as the doorbell rang again. “OK, OK!” she groaned shuffling to the door.

  “Peggy!”
beamed Lacey, looking as gorgeous and fresh as ever in skintight ripped jeans and a white t-shirt. Her hair was in a braid, falling in front of her right shoulder. She was showing absolutely no signs of what happened last night, except maybe for some smudgy eyeliner around her eyes which Peggy wasn't totally sure was today’s. Either way, she looked amazing and Peggy felt like she'd just eaten a sponge.

  “What the hell happened last night?” Peggy asked groggily.

  “You look like total crap.”

  “I feel like it.”

  “Where's Janet?” Lacey demanded walking through the front door as if she owned the place.

  “I don’t know, but if she sees me like this, I’m so dead.”

  Lacey whipped a note off the mirror by the door. “Gone to the farmer's market, didn't want to wake you even though I know you would've liked to come. Janet. Kiss, kiss.” Lacey waved the note under Peggy's nose. “Like anyone wants to go to the farmer’s market.”

  “There’s a farmer’s market?”

  “Uh, yeah, like every weekend.”

  “That sounds kind of cool.”

  Lacey made a face.

  “Does it say when she's coming back?” Peggy asked anxiously.

  “Nope, but you sure as hell don't want to be looking like that when she does.”

  Peggy caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She looked horrible. Her hair was slightly matted on one side and her eye make-up was smudged all over her face.

  “I'll fill you in over breakfast, but first you need to go shower.”

  Peggy did what she was told, fumbling quickly through her duffel bag for some clothes before making her way upstairs.

  * * *

  Lacey headed into the kitchen in search of coffee and was thrilled to see Janet had left a pot before she’d gone out. It was a little bitter, but with four sugars and some milk it was drinkable. Lacey sat at the counter flicking through an old Vogue. Peggy was taking ages. Lacey had flicked through two more fashion mags and finished her coffee and Peggy still wasn’t down. She sighed, and leaving her dirty mug on the table, she went to watch TV.

  As she sat down on Peggy's makeshift bed, she felt something hard under her butt. She grabbed it thinking it was the remote control and was about to throw it on the pillow when she stopped.

 

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