American Star

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American Star Page 10

by Jackie Collins


  was on a roll and couldn't stop. "I'm not ready to get involved."

  "You were involved with Sammy Pilsner," he said slyly.

  "What do you know about me and Sammy?" she snapped, her cheeks

  reddening.

  "Nothing much. Just that he used to tell all the guys he was getting a

  blow job from you.

  She couldn't believe Sammy would have betrayed her. "I don't believe

  you," she said fiercely.

  "It's true, isn't it? And if you did it to him, I want the same." And

  with that he launched himself upon her again.

  She wasn't Meg, about to let some oaf have his way with her. "If you

  don't stop I'm getting out of the car," she threatened, once more

  slapping his hands away.

  "Go ahead," he replied confidently. "It's a long walk home."

  "You think that's going to stop me?"

  "Aw, shit, you're behaving just like a dumb girl," he whined. "Anybody

  else would love being here with me."

  He was nothing but a braggart and a bully. She glared at him

  furiously. "I'm not anybody else, it's about time you realized

  that."

  Sensing her anger he rapidly changed tactics. "C'mon, Lauren," he

  wheedled. "I only wanna love you up a little." And it was hands all

  over her again.

  Every time he launched an attack she felt incredibly vulnerable.

  He was so big and strong, it would be easy for him to overpower her.

  She knew she had to make a move, and make it fast. She groped for the

  door handle, sprung it open and bolted. "I'm out of here," she

  yelled.

  "You're nothing but a sex maniac!"

  "And you're nothin' but a prick tease!" he yelled back.

  "Get lost, Stock Browning!" Burning with fury she set off down the

  road.

  Stock suddenly realized she was serious. He started the engine, turned

  the car around and drove after her. Winding down the window he leaned

  out. "Get back in. Stop being stupid."

  "I don't need this," she replied, marching along the bumpy country

  road.

  He was contrite. "I won't touch you again. I swear I won't."

  She stopped walking and whirled around to face him. "What do you swear

  on?" she demanded, not relishing the thought of a fivemile walk

  home.

  "My father's life."

  "Big deal."

  "Okay, okay, I'll swear on my own life. Does that make you happy?

  Now get back in the car." He threw open the passenger door and she

  climbed in. "I'll behave myself," he said, backing down all the way.

  "I wait until we're married. That's a promise.

  You'll have a long wait, she thought. A real long wait.

  he school play was due to take place a few days before Christmas

  break.

  Lauren was so immersed in her role that she decided to put the incident

  with Stock behind her and deal with him after Christmas.

  Her New Year's resolution was to get rid of him once and for all.

  Her parents were driving her crazy-all they wanted to talk about was

  wedding dates.

  "I was married to your father when I was barely eighteen," her mother

  said.

  "I'm only sixteen," she pointed out. "And I'm not getting married."

  "Why not?" Jane and Phil chorused.

  What was it with them? Were they trying to get rid of her? Or

  couldn't they wait to share in all the perks that being related to the

  Brownings would bring them?

  Rehearsals became the most important thing in her life. The only

  interruption was the arrival of Betty's brother. Harrington Harris

  looked like a famous actor. Tall, in his early forties, he had a

  receding hairline, long sideburns to compensate, lecherous eyes and a

  disarming manner. Every girl in the class immediately fell in love,

  including Meg. "Harrington's the most exciting man I've ever met," she

  confided to Lauren.

  Sitting at the back of the class, he jumped to attention. "I . . . I

  can't do this," he mumbled.

  "Come along, dear," Betty said crisply. "You joined this group, I'm

  sure you're perfectly capable of giving it a try."

  Reluctantly he got up and made his way to the stage, where Lauren sat

  at a makeshift dressing table brushing her hair.

  "This is the scene at the beginning of the play where Maggie and Brick

  have a confrontation," Betty explained. "You've watched the scene,

  Nick. You can do it."

  He clutched the script tightly. Christ! He'd joined the group to get

  closer to Lauren, but he hadn't expected to get this close. What if he

  made a fool of himself?

  He opened the script and stared blankly at the words. It wasn't like

  he hadn't watched Dennis say them enough times, and if Dennis could do

  it, so could he. Angry at himself for getting trapped, he began to

  read.

  Lauren turned around and responded to his lines, her eyes flashing.

  Soon he relaxed and started to get into it. Hey, it wasn't as bad as

  he'd imagined. Suddenly he wasn't Nick anymore, he was just an actor

  playing a role, and jeer, it was a kick!

  When the scene was finished he dropped the script to the floor and

  reality came flooding back.

  Lauren was staring at him. She had the most beautiful eyes he'd ever

  seen. He turned to Betty Harris, anxious for her reaction.

  "That was very good, dear," Betty said, beaming happily. "I'm

  impressed. Now all you have to do is learn the words."

  Learn the words. Was she kidding? "Ah . . . yeah, yeah, sure," he

  assured her, sounding a lot more confident than he felt.

  "Then there's no panic," Betty said, relieved. "Class, you can relax

  -we have our Brick."

  Outside the church hall it was cold and dark. Tiny snowflakes were

  beginning to fall. Nick leaned against the old bike Dave's brother had

  lent him. It certainly beat taking the bus. He waited patiently for

  Lauren. According to Aretha Mae, Stock and his parents were in Kansas

  City attending a family funeral, so there'd be no boyfriend lurking

  about.

  She came out a few minutes later.

  "Too old for me."

  Meg winked. "Certainly not too old for me. And he's asked me out."

  Here we go again, thought Lauren. "Maybe he's married," she said.

  Meg was silent.

  "Well, is he?"

  "How do I know?"

  "Are you going out with him?"

  "Of course I am. It's an adventure."

  "And I suppose I'm your excuse?"

  "Of course you're my excuse."

  At least Meg finally seemed to have gotten over Nick, which meant that

  maybe she could talk to him now. It wasn't easy pretending she didn't

  notice him-even though they kept on exchanging long looks, and she was

  painfully aware of everything he did.

  Meg set off for her date with Harrington Harris full of her usual

  enthusiasm. The following day her enthusiasm had turned to outrage.

  "He jumped me," she complained.

  Lauren shook her head in wonderment. "What did you expect? A cup of

  coffee and an intellectual chat? Naturally he jumped you. Sex.

  That's all men want. Didn't your mother teach you that?"

  Meg giggled. "As a matter of fact she did."

  "So what did you do this time?"


  "I told him I was a virgin. That frightened him off."

  "At least you're learning."

  A few days later Meg came down with the mumps. Twenty-four hours later

  so did Harrington Harris. Unfortunately, several other members of the

  cast caught the dread disease, including Dennis, much to Lauren's

  disappointment.

  "What will we do about the play?" she asked Betty Harris.

  Betty was as upset as she was. She surveyed her class of high school

  students, searching their eager young faces for someone to replace

  Dennis, her eyes finally falling on Nick. He was such a handsome boy

  in an intense kind of way, and he certainly looked as if he might be

  able to handle it. Not that she had any idea if he could act or not,

  but she waved the script at him, and told him to get on stage and read

  with Lauren.

  uh I just wanted to say thanks," He stepped forward. "Hey he said,

  kicking a pebble on the ground.

  he stopped. "For what?"

  "Y'know, for not letting me look like a jerk."

  She held out her hand to catch a snowflake. "You handled it really

  well. You must have acted before."

  He laughed. "Who, me? No way.

  "Then you're a natural."

  Now he was embarrassed. "Well, like I've seen a lotta movies, stuff

  like that."

  "It's not easy the first time you have to get up in front of people.

  But honestly-you knew what you were doing."

  He stamped his feet on the ground, warming up. "Thanks. That's a nice

  present."

  "Present?"

  "Yeah. It's my birthday today."

  "Really?"

  "How come you didn't tell anyone?"

  "Hey . . . Seventeen . . . it's no big deal."

  "My parents always make sure my birthday's a big deal. I have a huge

  cake and friends over to the house and lots of presents. What did you

  get?"

  "My family don't give presents."

  She wondered about his family, there'd certainly been enough gossip

  about them in school. "Aren't you going to celebrate at all?" she

  asked, half expecting Dawn to put in an appearance and drag him off.

  He pulled up the collar of his denim jacket and stamped his feet

  again.

  "Nah, guess not."

  "You have to do something," she said, prolonging the moment. "At least

  let me buy you a cup of coffee and a piece of cake."

  He wasn't about to turn this invitation down. "Great," he said

  quickly. "Let's go."

  "I've got a car," she said. "Leave your bike here and we'll pick it up

  later."

  "Do I get to drive?"

  "It's the family station wagon," she said apologetically. "Only I am

  llowe(1 to (Irive it."

  He grinned. "What're they gonna do, shoot you?"

  "I guess they let me live," she said, smiling back.

  Oh, God! Why was she doing this? She tried to tell herself she felt

  sorry for him, that nobody should be alone on their birthday. But it

  was more than that and she knew it. Nick Angelo was exciting, and she

  wanted some of that excitement.

  They walked over to the car.

  "Like one of these days I'm getting me a bright red Cadillac," he

  said.

  "Yeah, a Cadillac-that's the car for me."

  "Why a Cadillac?"

  "I dunno. It's just kinda . . . a cool car. An' it's made pretty

  good.

  It's" She smiled again. "You're very patriotic."

  "You gotta be something, right?"

  Their eyes met. "Right," she said.

  The snow kept everyone home, and by the time they reached the drugstore

  it was almost empty. Nick guided her into a booth and slid across the

  other side. "What'll you have?"

  "I'm buying," she reminded him.

  "I'm driving, so I'm buying," he countered.

  She laughed. "No way. It's your birthday."

  Louise came over, tapped her order pad and threw Nick a disapproving

  look. "What'll it be?" she asked, pen poised.

  "I'm starving," Lauren said. "How about two cheeseburgers?"

  "Yeah, an' let's go for a couple of chocolate malts along with that,"

  Nick added, winking at Louise.

  "And fries," Lauren said.

  "With ketchu" he interrupted.

  "And fried onions."

  "Yeah! Right!"

  They both burst out laughing as Louise walked briskly to the kitchen.

  "I like a girl who eats," he said, grinning.

  "From what I hear you like all girls," she replied, immediately

  thinking, Oh, no! Why did I say that? It makes me sound like a

  jealous idiot!

  "That's cause I'm not engaged," he said, staring pointedly at her

  ring.

  She hurriedly slid her hands under the table. "Stock's very nice," she

  said defensively.

  "Very nice, my ass."

  "I don't know. . . maybe it's not going to work out the way everybody

  thinks." Why was she revealing herself to him?

  He leaned across the table. "Are you telling me you're not engaged?"

  She hesitated for a moment, then plunged right in. "I'm just saying

  certain people have expectations. My parents think we make a great

  couple. But what I really want is to go to New York and give acting a

  try. When I'm older, of course."

  "Sounds cool to me. You told him?"

  "No, and I don't have to tell him. My future doesn't necessarily lie

  with Stock Browning."

  He nailed her with an intense stare. "So take his ring off."

  "I didn't say I was getting disengaged. I just said my future might

  not lie with him."

  Louise marched over, slammed their order on the table and threw Nick

  another sharp look as if to say What the hell you doing with her?

  Lauren took a bite of her cheeseburger. "Where's Dawn tonight?"

  Damn! She'd said it again. Why couldn't she keep quiet about Dawn?

  He shrugged. "Who knows? I only see her when I feel like it."

  She wanted to know more about him, but she didn't dare ask.

  He wanted to know more about her, but he figured he shouldn't push

  it.

  They ate in silence.

  "I guess this turned out to be a pretty good birthday after all," he

  said at last.

  She wondered why she felt so light-headed. "It did?"

  "Yeah. Like, y'know, bein' with you, getting the part in the play, it

  kinda makes today special."

  "That's if Dennis doesn't recover and come back," she reminded him.

  "Right," he said casually, pretending it didn't matter, although by

  this time he was hooked and it did matter a great deal. "Y'know, this

  is my first birthday since my mother died. She never made me a cake or

  any of that birthday stuff-she was always too busy working. But

  sometimes she would like, y'know, slide me ten bucks."

  "When did she die?" Lauren asked softly.

  "A few months ago. That's why we came here. Turns out my father

  married Aretha Mae seventeen years ago, then skipped town. He never

  got a divorce-so he an' my mother weren't legally married.

  She didn't know-nobody did. When she died, my aunt threw us out.

  So we came here. We live over in the trailer park."

  "What's it like?"

  "Believe me, you never wanna know. I got this half sister who refuses

  to speak to me, an'
a couple of half brothers, Harlan and Luke -they're

  okay. I share a trailer with them. My old man sits on his ass all day

  while Aretha Mae goes out to work. I'm stuck here until I get enough

  money to split."

  "Where will you go?" she asked, her eyes widening.

  "I dunno. New York, maybe." He paused and grinned. "Wanna come?"

  "My parents would love that."

  He was suddenly serious. "They wouldn't have to know. We'd just take

 

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