~ Spin the Bottle ~

by C. E. Gray

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Standard Disclaimer: The characters mentioned in this story are mine, though they might remind you of some very talented ladies. Spin the Bottle is copyrighted C. E. Gray Ó2001 Also, though my dad was a mechanic, I don't know much about cars myself; if there are any mistakes in here, they're purely my own. <g> Any help would be greatly appreciated - thanks to those of you who pointed some errors in my previous stories. Constructive criticism is well received.

Violence Disclaimer: Yeah, some of that in here. Nothing real graphic, I don't think, but it does involve some not-so-nice high school kids.

Language Disclaimer: Okay, so she really tries not to curse, but it just slips out! Definitely some language in here, especially when one of the main characters gets ticked off.

Sex Disclaimer: This is alternative fiction, meaning it involves the idea of two women in love - with each other! If this bothers you, this story may not be for you, although there is absolutely nothing graphic.

Thanks: Thanks to my friends Charlene, Tina, AJ, and Amanda for the support and encouragement. You guys are great. More thanks and love to my best friend and beta, Amber, who puts up (not so patiently! <grin>) with my cliffhangers. Love you all.

Author's Note: For those of you who have noticed that I've been posting a lot of stories lately, this may be my last year to post anything for a while. If my plans for the future go through, I'll be off to college, and probably won't have a chance to post or write much. You can email me at Y02Mustang@AOL.com if you feel the need for the whole story, but I will do my best to complete the works I have in progress before that point. There are a lot of them, so be prepared! Thank you all for your support and feedback.

A clay pot sitting in the sun will always be a clay pot. It has to go through the white heat of the furnace to become porcelain.

- Mildred White Stouven

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Part 1

CHAPTER ONE

This isn't the first time I've been in a situation like this - not at all. I always seem to be getting into trouble… but, it's not as if I can do anything about it! Things just happen to me, that's all. Like yesterday, when I accidentally tripped over our neighbor's cat, Mrs. Stevenson's tabby, and she got all mad at me; like it was my fault her stupid cat was under my feet in the first place!

And then there was last weekend, when I was working on the car with my dad, and he asked me to get the wrench. Well, he didn't tell me which size, so I brought over a handful of crescent wrenches, and one slipped. Luckily, it only hit my toe instead of falling on my dad's head, but he still got upset at me for being so clumsy.

But the worst yet was this morning. First, I got up late, and had to rush to get to school on time, and I was in such a hurry I forgot my history book. Then, my English teacher marked my grade down because he said I was disrupting class, but I was only trying to sharpen my pencil when I tripped! After that, my pen broke in History class, and I got ink all over my desk, and had to spend the rest of the period cleaning it up.

That's not even the half of it. During Calculus, my class right before lunch, the teacher caught me sneaking a drink of water. I was thirsty! So, after trying to defend my right to get something to drink during class before I caused a disturbance by coughing, he claimed I was being disrespectful, and sent me down to the office.

So, here I am, sitting here outside the principal's office, while all my classmates are eating lunch and having a good time. The stupid secretary wouldn't even let me up to go buy something to eat, so now I'm hungry. Plus, she said she was calling my parents, and I know that means my dad's going to be sore at me for getting in trouble…

I chuckled as my blue eyes scanned what I just wrote. Being in the principal's office, I had nothing to do, so I grabbed my pen and notebook and started writing. I always end up writing when I get restless, which is rather often. Although I normally don't write about myself, there was nothing else going on in my head.

Re-reading my lamenting, I was forced to laugh at how totally ridiculous it all sounded. Getting sent to the principal's office for coughing? Maybe my dad would see it the same way, and not get too mad at me… Well, I could hope.

"Hi," came a soft voice, and I glanced up from my notebook into the green eyes of Mary Jane Wilcox. I'd seen her in one of my classes and a few times during passing period, but never really talked to her, simply because not a lot of people had anything nice to say to me. I got picked on a lot, despite my height advantage over many of my tormentors, not to mention the fact that I was a lot stronger, even if I was a girl. I just chose not to fight back, as far as words go, and they knew it. But if one of them were to take a swing at me, I'd finish it in a heartbeat.

"Hey," I responded. When she made a glance at the chair beside me, I instantly removed my book bag from the seat, and nodded for her to sit down.

She did, and gave me a sad smile. "I think it's really awful what Mr. Newton did," she said, and I raised an eyebrow at her.

"You do?"

Mary Jane nodded, her short blonde hair bobbing with the movement of her head. "Sure. I mean, it's not like you could help it if you needed something to drink, and he doesn't let us out of class to go to the drinking fountain! I think it's a stupid rule, anyhow," she stated, and I grinned.

"Thanks," was my reply, and there was silence for a while. "How come you're not at lunch?" I asked, finally.

"I don't eat much," she answered, and I could whatever I'd done had made her a little uncomfortable, so I eased up, and didn't question her anymore. "I'm Mary Jane, by the way," she introduced, and I nodded.

"I know," I smiled. "I've seen you in class. I'm…"

"Bailey. I've seen you, too," Mary Jane laughed, apparently amused by my startled expression. Peeking over at my notebook, she glanced up at me when I unconsciously moved it out of her view.

I looked away. "I was just writing while I wait to see Mr. Heath," I shrugged.

The girl beside me smirked. "You're always writing, aren't you, Bailey?" At my surprised look, she added, "Mr. Newton always busts you for writing in your notebook when you're supposed to be taking notes in class."

"But, I do take notes!" I protested. "Good ones, too! I just write fast, and get done before a lot of other people, so I decide to write on my own until he shows the next slide. I'm paying attention," I pouted, and Mary Jane smiled, erasing my tension and hurt feelings immediately.

"Well, I've got to get to class," she said, as the bell rang, and I was sorry to see her go. She was the one person I'd talked to in a long time that hadn't mentioned anything about my being a klutz or teasing me about getting in trouble. It felt nice to have an almost-friend.

"I hope everything works out okay for you, Bailey. See you later!" Mary Jane called, as she walked down the hallway and out of my sight.

A sudden voice startled me out of my thoughts some time later. "Mr. Heath will see you, now," said the secretary, and I rose to my feet, grabbing my stuff as I entered the office. The man with a balding spot in the back of his head and a gut worthy of Santa Claus turned a grim set of gray eyes on me, silently asking me to sit in the seat in front of his desk, facing the small placard that read: Gerald Heath. I sat down, and prepared myself for whatever sentence was to come.

"Well, Miss Smith, it seems like I've been seeing a lot of you lately, doesn't it?"

I hated it when he called me 'Miss Smith', and I think he knew it. It made me think of the mother I only remembered in my dreams; she died when I was only three-years-old. It was really hard on my dad, and he raised me the best he could on his own, but I still believe that finding so many things out on my own helped me more than anything else could have.

With a heavy sigh, I responded, "Yes, sir."

"It's your junior year, Miss Smith. Let's hope you can improve by next year."

"Yes, sir." I didn't like our principal, no one did, but unlike most of my school, I was still respectful.

"Your father will be here in just a few minutes, and we can all discuss this then," he decided, and I ran my hands through my long black hair as I agreed. Checking my watch, I realized that even if my dad weren't upset with me for getting sent to the principal's office, he'd be mad for being pulled out of work. We needed the money, not that we were exactly poor, but my after-school job at the local Wal-Mart was necessary, so having to spend an hour or more with my principal discussing how I'd gotten in trouble again instead of working for pay wasn't going to make my dad very happy.

"All right, what's going on?" demanded my father, storming into the room, still wearing his gray mechanic's suit from work, his six-foot-three, 220-pound-former-high-school-football-star frame seeming to make the small office even smaller.

"Darryl, please sit down," urged Mr. Heath, and I raised an eyebrow at him, as did my dad.

"I wasn't aware that we were on a first name basis, Mr. Heath." I hid my grin when my dad took his seat beside me; he didn't like Mr. Heath any better than I did.

The principal blinked, startled, and replied, "I'm sorry, Mr. Smith, I meant no offense. I just thought that we'd been in this office often enough to…"

"Are you implying that my daughter is a troublemaker, Mr. Heath?" he growled, and I grinned as the man tried to hide behind his desk to escape my father's anger. In all actuality, I couldn't blame him, but it still struck me as funny.

"No, of course not. Now, about what happened today… Bailey deliberately disobeyed our school-wide rule of no drinks in class," he accused, and my jaw dropped.

"It was water!" I cried. "My throat was dry, and I needed a drink. When I tried to explain that to Mr. Newton, he said I was being disrespectful and talking back to him, and he sent me down here. I didn't do anything wrong, he just doesn't like me!"

"Now, Miss Smith, I'm sure Mr. Newton wouldn't arbitrarily get you in trouble."

That was all the 'Miss Smith' I could take. "Oh, what do you know?" I snarled, stood, and left the room, slamming the door behind me. Once out in the hallway, I silently waited for my dad, my arms crossed angrily across my chest.

"In trouble again, Bailey?" sneered a passing boy, and I simply glared at him.

"Screw off, Andrew," I replied, and he promptly looked in the other direction. It was passing period, so with all the people walking around, I began to feel uncomfortable; like an animal in the zoo or something. I saw Mary Jane enter her sixth period class, computers if I wasn't mistaken, and she gave me a quick smile before hurrying inside, making it just before the tardy bell rang.

"Come on, Bailey," said my dad, putting his hand on my shoulder as he urged me into my Spanish class. "You'll finish up your day here, and tomorrow you won't have Mr. Newton. Sound good?"

I nodded. "Sure, Dad, thanks. Sorry you had to leave work," I added.

He just grinned. "Don't worry about it, sweetheart. I'll be home late tonight, so go ahead and eat without me. Drive safe," he murmured, leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on my cheek, his beard scratching my chin, leaving me with a faint hint of grease and cologne as he walked down the hall. I was surprised that he wasn't upset, but assumed he must have taken all his anger out on Mr. Heath, which slightly brightened my day.

I saw Mary Jane only once more that day, and I couldn't help but notice she was crying. I frowned, and made my way to her locker, concerned. She apparently didn't know I was nearby, because she grabbed her books and hurried out the door, running down the stairs while wiping tears from her eyes. I considered calling out to her, but decided against it - I didn't really know her that well, anyhow, although I felt like I did.

"I'll just talk to her tomorrow," I sighed, climbing into my 1990 Ford Explorer. I loved the way in looked new, after the fresh coat of red paint my dad had just finished for me, and it ran well for being eleven years old.

Of course, my dad being a mechanic and having taught me everything he knew was a big help. Growing up around my father had made me able to detect many problems before most paid professionals. I think he wanted me to be a mechanic like him, but my dream was to become a writer.

Big surprise there, huh?

Pulling into my driveway, I grinned when the curtain adorning the window in our living room shifted, and a small muzzle could be seen. It belonged to our Australian Shepherd puppy; well, I guess he wasn't a quite a pup anymore - he'd just turned two years old the week before.

Pocketing my car keys, I found my house key and unlocked the front door, greeting the flying bundle of energy with a hug and a hearty scratch behind the ears. It had taken me three years of begging and pleading my case to my dad before he finally gave in, and I'd had Sodapop since he was only a month old.

"Hiya, Soda; hi, sweetheart. How was your day, big guy?" I asked, and he happily told me all about it between yips and growls of joy. He was my dog, no doubt about it. Dad like him too, of course, but didn't have the kind of relationship with him that Soda and I shared.

Sodapop was named after one of my favorite characters from S. E. Hinton's The Outsiders, the first book I remembered doing a book report on in second grade. My copy of the book was in one of the three bookcases in my room, dog-eared and worn, but well loved.

Grabbing an apple from the kitchen counter, I did a quick check for messages, both of which were from people looking for money, and then sprawled out on the couch with the remote control, kicking off my shoes. Flipping past Japanese animation, three channels with commercials, and two more with lame talk shows, I finally turned on our satellite, landing on Looney Tunes. After a long day, the best way for me to relax and unwind was reclining on the sofa with Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck.

It became a habit of mine, and had been for many years, until my dad gave me the nickname "Doc", after Bugs Bunny's infamous line. For my thirteenth birthday, he gave me a small pose-able figurine of the character, which now rode around on the rearview mirror of my car, doing very well for being four years in my clumsy possession.

Surprisingly enough, my tendency to be a klutz, or for having bad luck I suppose, did not carry over into my driving or my job. I was a very cautious and courteous driver, and standing behind a counter ringing up sales or giving change didn't allow me much room to screw up. I used to stock the shelves, but my boss very wisely decided to move me up front after about two weeks. I did fine on the cash register, and liked making small talk with the customers in my line.

Realizing it was Thursday, I settled down for about an hour of television before beginning my homework, since I only worked at Wal-Mart on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evenings, and most of the day every Saturday. It was scarcely three in the afternoon, and I didn't plan on having to do any more than two hours of homework, so, thankfully, I had some free time to just hang out and kick back with my dog.

Once the Acme Hour was over, I happened to glance out the window, and sighed. The sun was already beginning its descent, and with my luck, I wouldn't have time to finish my homework and still head outside for my daily jog. I tried to stay in shape, jogging and exercising often, even participating in Karate once a week, but my schoolwork was also a priority.

Finally deciding to just jog around the block a few times with Soda, and then do my homework when I got back, I grabbed Soda's leash, and he danced around expectantly. He knew what it meant when I picked up his leash.

"Come here, buddy," I urged, fastening the clip onto his collar, which also held his identification tags, the information engraved on a piece of metal in the shape of a bone. It was scratched and a little worn, but the words were readable, and he'd had it ever since he stepped foot in the house - I made sure of it. After all the work it took for me to get Soda in my life, I wasn't about to risk losing him because no one knew whom he belonged to.

"Ready to go for a run?" I asked with a grin, and he yipped his consent. Making sure I had my house key, since I'd locked myself out more than once, I locked the door behind us, and soon Soda and I were jogging down the street. I waved to a few people that I saw outside, either just arriving home from work, or busy working in the yard. Mrs. Stevenson was outside, and she gave me a hard look, not returning my wave.

It's not as if I hurt her cat, anyhow. But she still refuses to speak to me. I don't know what it is about being a klutz, but not even the adults will let me live it down. I just have bad luck, I think, and my dad says I'm too tall for the rest of my body to keep up with. That's why I keep tripping over my own feet, and he has no clue how I can manage to stay upright whenever I run or do my workout.

Some help he is.

Sweating despite the setting sun, neither Soda nor I returned until well after five, having run down to the park and back. I guessed the distance from my house to the park to be about four miles, so we'd jogged a little less than eight miles. Accounting for a potty break for Sodapop, we made good time, and I enjoyed the feeling of my blood pumping through my veins; it was invigorating.

Now that I was ready for a more intensive workout, I was forced to settle down and do my homework. All I had was a little Calculus and some English, having finished my Spanish and History during class time; it wasn't unusual for me to get done with the daily class work early, and then take that opportunity to finish the night's homework until the end of the period. It worked out well, and gave me a chance to relax a little more at home, instead of stressing out and spending the entire evening doing homework.

I was right; it didn't quite take me two hours to complete everything. I was polishing off a small pizza I'd stuck in the oven, listening to my music at a comfortable level as I wrote in my notebook, when my dad walked in the door. I glanced up to tell him there was some left over pizza still in the oven if he was hungry, and that was when I noticed the blood.

CHAPTER TWO

I was on my feet in an instant, tossing my headphones on the couch, much more concerned about my father than any song playing on the CD at the moment.

"Shit, dad, what the hell happened to you?" I cried, going to his side, prying his arm away from his shirt, which was nearly saturated with blood. I didn't curse very often, at least not around my dad, but if I was angry or worried the words tended to slip out a little easier.

"Bailey Joanne Smith! Watch your mouth, and I'm fine, just a little scratch," he lied, and I looked him over carefully, finding the cause of all the mess - a four-inch long gash along the inside of his right forearm.

I gave him "The Look", a glare I'd worked on perfecting for years; it was pretty damn intimidating if I say so myself. "Dad, that is not just a scratch. Come on; let's clean it up and then I'll see how bad it is. Now, what happened?" I asked, taking charge of the situation, as my father looked on with an approving glance in my direction.

He shrugged with his good arm as I ran water over the cut, and then gently wiped away the excess blood so I could see what I was getting myself in to, responding, "Nothing, really. Jim was handing Terry a greasy saw blade, and it slipped. I was working on the ground, and had just rolled out from under a nice '67 Mustang, when the blade fell on my arm.

"The guys wanted to take me to the hospital, but I didn't see a need, and they were already white as a sheet as it was; I figured they'd pass out if they sat in the truck with me. I took out the blade, and drove home. It didn't really start hurting until I was a few blocks away," he confessed, and winced as I held pressure on the still bleeding wound.

"Well, come on, I'm driving you to the hospital, and that's all there is to it." He looked as though he were going to protest, so I cut him off with, "Don't argue with me, dad, you need stitches and you know it. Now, let's go."

I waited anxiously in the waiting room as the doctor at the Community Hospital sewed up my dad's arm. I knew he'd be okay, but I couldn't help but feel my heart race against my ribcage, worried. I didn't have a problem with helping my dad, or seeing blood, or even sewing up wounds… I'd done it to myself often enough not to be bothered by it. But when someone you care about is in a hospital, no matter the reason, it just makes you a little shaky, you know?

"Come back in a few weeks to have them taken out, Mr. Smith," I heard the doctor instruct, and my dad lightly shook his hand, thanking him as he walked out of Room Number Two, and over to where I sat.

I stood to meet him. "I already paid, so let's go home," I urged, and he grinned, shaking his head and putting his left arm around my shoulders as we walked out the door.

"What would I do without you, Bailey?" he chuckled.

"You'll never have to know," I replied, honestly. It had been just my dad and I for as long as I could remember, and I couldn't see my life any other way. Sure, I knew I'd have to grow up and leave home sooner or later, but I always saw my dad with me in my future.

"Thank you for taking such good care of me, sweetheart," he said, quietly, when we were nearly home, after spending the earlier driving time in a comfortable silence. I knew he really appreciated that I'd taken care of things, but it was just who I was - I'd been raised in such a way that taking care of others was in my nature. It kind of startled me that he seemed surprised by my behavior.

It was my turn to grin. "Anytime, Dad. That's what I'm here for," I reminded him, reaching over to quickly pat his hand before I turned onto our street. I yawned as I pulled into the driveway, the digital clock in my Explorer displaying a quarter-past midnight. We'd had to wait a long time for anyone to see my dad, as the more serious patients were seen to first, and even after he was admitted into the room, he said it took about thirty minutes for the doctor to enter.

"Did you finish your homework?"

"Of course," I answered, laughing. "Now, what I was going to tell you when you first came home, there's pizza in the oven if you'd like some. It might be cold by now, but I'll reheat if you're hungry," I offered, but he shook his head as I unlocked the door.

"Hey, Soda," he greeted, continuing with, "No, thanks, Doc. You need to get to bed, and I'm tired. I'll see you in the morning, all right?" I nodded, and kissed his cheek before calling to my dog, changing into my boxers and a T-shirt before crawling into bed, Soda asleep at my feet.

* * * * *

I actually woke up on time the next morning, had breakfast, took Soda out for a walk, and got to school before the tardy bell rang, all without having to rush. I was stepping out of my car just as Mary Jane was entering the building, trying hard to ignore some rather nasty kids who, I could tell, were bothering her.

Jogging up beside her, I snarled at the freshmen, all of whom suddenly found their feet very intriguing as they left their former prey alone.

"You all right?" I asked, and she glanced up at me, as if noticing me there for the first time.

"Bailey! Yeah, I'm fine. Thank you, for getting rid of them," she smiled, and I just chuckled.

"Not a problem," I assured her, and walked her to her first class. "Well, I'd better run, or I'm going to be late to English. I'll see you later, okay? Maybe at lunch?"

Her green eyes suddenly seemed frightened. "Uh, no, not at lunch. Maybe during Mr. Newton's class," she corrected, and hurried inside before I had a chance to respond and tell her I wasn't expecting to be in his class today.

"Strange," I muttered, continuing on my way down the hall.

"I know you are, Bailey." A voice interrupted my thoughts, and I looked around to see Andrew Turnkey. He'd had a grudge against me ever since I beat him at basketball in front of his friends my sophomore year.

I sighed when he stepped in my way. "What do you want, Andrew?"

He grinned evilly. "Simple, Bailey. I want you to set me up with your little friend," he said, and my jaw about hit the ground. I couldn't believe my ears!

"Mary Jane? You want me to set you up on a date with Mary Jane?" I clarified, dumbfounded, and he nodded. "I am not doing you any favors, Andrew. Now, just get out of my way, before you make me late to class."

Suddenly his hands were on my shoulders, slamming me into the row of lockers behind us. "You'll do it or I'll make you sorry," he growled, and I glared at him, my eyes boring right into his heartless soul.

"Get your hands off me, Turnkey," I stated, dangerously. "Do it right now, or I'll remove them myself." I was ready to knee him in the groin when Mr. Heath happened to walk past.

"What's going on here? Miss Smith, Mr. Turnkey, what are you doing?" he demanded, and Andrew immediately backed off - one more suspension and he'd have to go before the board to explain why he shouldn't be expelled. He didn't need that, so he decided to play it safe.

"Nothing, Mr. Heath. Bailey and I were just talking, isn't that right?"

I sighed, and cut him some slack. "Yeah, just talking."

"Well, you both need to get to class instead of talk. Now, get a move on!" he ordered, and Andrew scrambled to his class as I walked slowly down the hall, the bell already ringing in my ears, Mrs. Linden hounding me for being late as soon as I walked through the door. I said nothing, and simply sat in my seat, determined not to let the past events ruin the rest of my day.

Stopping by the counseling office during our ten-minute passing period, I discovered that I was still scheduled to be in Mr. Newton's class for Calculus. Trying to talk to the secretary was no use, and my counselor had his door closed, so I was stuck.

"Damn it," I cursed, breezing past lip-locked couples and bald-headed students as I made my way to my History class. The day always seemed to go by slowly, but this day, it went by quickly until I hit Mr. Newton's class… then time decided to crawl. Any slower and I swear it'd been going backwards.

Mr. Newton didn't seem too surprised to see me, so I assumed he hadn't been informed that I was no longer supposed to be in his class. Perhaps Mr. Heath had just said it to pacify my dad, I didn't know for sure; all I knew at that moment was that I was not happy to be back in that class.

It must have shown on my face, because I caught Mary Jane giving me a curious look. She sat one row over and two seats up from me, so I quickly scribbled her a note, explaining that I was supposed to have been transferred, and handed it to her before the teacher noticed. He did not allow notes to be passed in class, and while I wasn't one to usually defy the rules, I wasn't real happy with Mr. Newton as it was, and he had his back turned to the class as he wrote on the white board, anyhow.

Reading the note quietly, Mary Jane wrote a response, and returned it to me. When I read what she had put, my day brightened immediately. I'm glad you didn't change classes, Bailey. That one little sentence totally changed my outlook. Suddenly, I didn't care if I never got switched out of Mr. Newton's Calculus class; I had a friend. A real, honest-to-goodness, true friend, who didn't want me to leave.

If I hadn't been in class, I believe I would have done a little dance on my desk. Instead, I simply smiled, an expression that grew even wider when Mary Jane returned my grin.

"Is there something you would like to share with the rest of the class, Bailey?" came the booming voice of Mr. Newton, and I shook my head.

"Not really, no," I replied, evenly.

"Then I suggest you pay attention up here." Nodding my assent, the man turned back to the board, intent on whatever example he was working… I had my homework done ahead of time, so I didn't need to worry about the class work.

Glancing over at Mary Jane, I figured she must have also been done, as she was drawing on a blank sheet of notebook paper. What it was, I couldn't quite make out, but she was cautiously watching Mr. Newton to make sure he didn't jump on her for not doing the work.

As I watched, two boys to my left snickered and pointed, subtly crumpling a piece of paper into a ball. Grinning, they threw the projectile towards the front of the room, where it bounced off Mr. Newton's bald head, causing the man to spin around. The immature seniors quickly turned angelic, oozing innocence. Mary Jane, having paid no attention whatsoever to their antics, apparently became frustrated with her picture and crumpled it up into a ball.

Mr. Newton saw this, and walked briskly over to her desk.

"I would not recommend that you throw that one, Miss Wilcox," hissed the teacher, and startled green eyes glanced up at him.

"What?" she asked, confused. "I didn't throw…"

"No one else in this room is making paper balls, Mary Jane; I am very disappointed," Mr. Newton scolded, and I watched my friend frantically try to discern what had happened. "This is not something I would have expected from you."

"That's because she didn't do it," I spoke up, and the man gave me a sidelong glance that encouraged me to continue. I knew of the seniors who had been the culprits, and also knew that if I ratted on them, I may as well prepare myself for a thirty-to-one all out brawl after school. Those kids had friends, and those friends had weapons.

Deciding I was too young to end up in the hospital, like the last guy they'd beat up, I lied, "It was me. I was trying to make it in the wastebasket, and I missed."

Yeah, nice cover up, I snorted. The wastebasket is a whole five feet away. Like he'll believe I'm that bad of a shot! Actually, I played basketball very well; I just hoped Mr. Newton didn't know that.

For a heartbeat, I didn't think he was going to buy it. His expression didn't change, and I was waiting for him to challenge the truth of my statement, when he cautioned, "I suggest you get up out of your seat and walk it to the trash can next time, Miss Smith, unless you want to see me during lunch for detention."

"Okay," I agreed, getting up and throwing the paper away, giving two chuckling seniors the evil eye as I walked back to my seat. Mary Jane mouthed a "Thank you" in my direction, and I shrugged. I wasn't about to let her take the blame for something she didn't do.

I managed to catch her when the bell rang, taking her arm gently before she could run out of class, and waited until almost everyone had gone before I spoke.

"I was, uh, just wondering if you had anything planned for lunch," I said, awkwardly. When she said she didn't, I offered, "Want to kick it with me? I mean, it'd be my treat, and we could go wherever you want."

She glanced up at me. "You have a car?" We were allowed to go off campus for our forty-minute lunch, but there wasn't anything of much substance within walking distance.

I nodded. "Yep, and I'm at your service," I grinned, doing a mock bow. "What do you say?"

"But… I…"

I tried not to show how disappointed I was; she didn't want to go, and just couldn't figure out how to tell me. "It's all right, you don't have to. I understand," I said, with a small smile, and turned to walk away, but Mary Jane stopped me.

"No, Bailey, wait!" I faced her again. "I want to go, it's just… I… I don't have any money to pay," she admitted, and looked down at the ground, ashamed.

"Mary Jane," I said softly, gently lifting her chin with my finger until our eyes met, "I said it was my treat, remember? I don't want you to pay anything. I wouldn't let you, anyway. Now, how's about we bust out of this joint?" I questioned, and she nodded, smiling as I led the way to the parking lot.

I let her choose, and she decided on a nice little Mexican restaurant not too far away, which I knew served good food at a decent price.

As we were waiting for our food to be brought to our table, I decided to strike up some small talk. At my prompting, she told me all about the other classes she had, and I found her schedule to be very similar to mine, just different class periods and one different teacher. I discovered she liked to draw and planned to go to an art school after she graduated.

"Can I see some of your work?" I asked, just as the man brought our order, and when I looked back to the young woman, she seemed to have shrunk back into her chair.

"No, I don't… they're not very good, really," she swallowed, and I immediately let it drop, sensing it was a touchy subject, for whatever reason.

Handing her the food she'd ordered, consisting of two tacos and a tostado, I soothed, "Hey, it's all right, you don't have to show me if you're not comfortable. I'm sorry I asked, if it upset you."

Mary Jane just smiled a little, becoming a bit more talkative as I mentioned Soda. It turned out she loved dogs, but couldn't have one because her dad was allergic. I invited her over to see Soda anytime she wanted, and she had politely accepted my offer, with dancing emerald eyes that told me she really appreciated it.

"Do you mind if I ask you something?" I asked, as we drove back to the school. We'd been chatting easily since our meal, and I found she was very nice to talk to, but I was still concerned about the tears I had observed the day before.

"Go ahead."

"Well, yesterday I saw you after school, and I couldn't help but notice that you were crying… I was just wondering if everything was all right, now," I said, in a voice that said she didn't have to answer if she didn't feel like it. I had learned very quickly that Mary Jane was not one to talk about her personal life, and it often frightened her when someone asked her a direct question, so I was sure to give her a way out if she felt trapped or scared.

There was no response for a while. And then: "Yeah, everything's fine. I was just upset over a stupid little grade. But, thank you." I had my doubts, but kept them to myself, and replied that I was glad to hear that.

"Thank you, Bailey, lunch was fun," she smiled, as I slipped my keys into my pocket, walking back inside the school with her.

I had to agree. "Yeah, it was. Thanks for going with me, Mary Jane. We can do it again anytime you're up to it, okay? Just let me know."

She seemed like she had something else she wanted to say, so I leaned against the wall outside the door of her computer class, waiting patiently. "I… I wanted to thank you for what you did in Mr. Newton's class. That was really nice of you, Bailey. No one's ever done something like that for me, and I…

"Well, thank you," she concluded, smiling shyly.

I shrugged, as I had done earlier. "I couldn't let Mr. Newton blame you for something you didn't do, it's not right." Glancing at my watch, I saw I had thirty seconds to get to class before the bell rang. "Look, I've got to go, but I'll see you later, okay? After school, maybe? I can give you a ride, if you'd like," but she shook her head.

"See you tomorrow, Bailey." Watching her walk away, I wondered if it was just in my head or if a look of panic had really crossed her face at my mention of seeing her after school.

Maybe she has a boyfriend, and he doesn't want her to have any friends or something, I thought, vaguely, but something told me that wasn't right. Maybe she just doesn't want to be seen with me. No, that wasn't it, either; I could feel it.

Slipping in the door just before the bell rang, all thoughts of Mary Jane unfortunately left my head as Mrs. Garcia began spouting rapid Spanish at us, trying to see what we knew and how well we were paying attention in class the day before. Luckily, I had been paying close attention, and was able to respond to most of what she said, unlike the rest of my class, who just stared dumbly at the teacher.

Breezing through that class, I walked down the halls to my last class, which happened to be an English 2 class, which I T.A.'d, meaning I was a Teacher's Aide. I'd had Mr. Renky the year before, and he was a great teacher and a funny man with lots of stories, so I offered to help him out with some of his grading and the like. I got to sit through his class and hear more stories, and he had less work to do when the day ended; it was a win-win situation.

My favorite kind.

It figures that the best class would go by the quickest, and before I knew it, the bell was ringing and sophomores were running out the door. I didn't understand why they'd be so happy to leave Mr. Renky's class, but shrugged it off to "underclassmen".

"See you Monday, Mr. Renky," I smiled, on my way out the door. He waved to me as I left, and as I walked to the student parking lot where I parked my car, I saw Mary Jane approach a guy in an old blue Honda Civic, an '87, if I wasn't mistaken. I assumed it was her ride, but seeing her duck her head when she got in, and noticing the gestures that told me the guy was yelling at her, I had to wonder who he was.

I went home for a quick bite to eat, checked on my dad (who was staying home from work, and I happened to catch him flipping through soap operas), and then got ready to go to work - it was Friday, so I had to work until ten at night. Changing into black jeans and a white T-shirt, I slipped my blue Wal-Mart vest over my head, and drove the six miles to the store.

"Hey, Jerry," I greeted the manager, my boss, as I relieved my friend Tina of her post. She got off just as I got on, and usually had a fairly upbeat attitude, so it was with surprise that I found her shoving the keys to the cash register in my hand.

"Take it, please, just take it," she whined, and I raised an eyebrow at her. She was seventeen, like me, but only had one class in the morning, since she'd tested out of any other classes the high school offered. She was my height, although a little heavier-set, with shoulder-length brown hair and hazel eyes. We'd been friends for as long as I could remember, meeting when she first moved into the neighborhood and my parents went to welcome hers to the block. Tina was one of the few people I could really call a true friend, and it wasn't unusual for us to hang out after work or on the weekend. We always did things together, and when we were little, our parents called us the "Gruesome Twosome", as we were constantly getting into trouble.

"Hard day, Tina?" I asked, and she rolled her eyes at me.

"You can say that again."

"Hard day, Tina?" I got a slap on my arm.

"Smart Alec," she accused. There was no one in line yet, so we had a few minutes to relax before the customers started coming in. For a Friday afternoon, I was surprised that it wasn't jam-packed with anxious people. Relieved, but surprised, nonetheless.

"I have never been so glad to see you," she continued, and I smiled, resting my forearm on her shoulder.

"Aw, I missed you, too," I grinned, laughing. "Really, though, what happened?"

She shrugged. "Just some people who decided it would be fun to annoy the cashier," she explained. "I had somebody accuse me of trying to cheat them out of money today! They made such a scene, Jerry had to come straighten it out, and it turned out he gave them a free bag of cookies just so they'd shut up and leave," she sighed.

I sympathized. "Sounds like a rough time," I agreed, patting her back as I saw some people coming. "I'm probably going to be busy with my dad this weekend, but give me a call if you can, all right?" She nodded, bid me good luck, and happily walked out the door.

Tina was right - people had to be out to get the cashiers. Luckily, a few people I knew also came through my line, so I was able to chat nicely with them, and that kind of balanced out my day.

"Have a nice night, Mrs. Stevenson!" I called, glad to have solved the little crisis over her precious tabby. We'd talked as I'd rung up her purchases, and she finally understood that I didn't intentionally hurt her cat, so we were on much better terms.

Jumping when I felt a hand on my shoulder, I turned to see Jerry standing behind me, a smile on his face.

"Damn, Jerry, give a girl a heart attack, why don't you?" I scolded, and he laughed good-naturedly.

"Sorry, Bailey," he said, gray eyes twinkling. "It's ten, why don't you head on home? I'll take over until Patrick comes in. I'll see you tomorrow at eight, okay?"

I grinned. "Thanks, Jer. See you later," I called, my vest off before I was even in the parking lot. As I walked through the dimly lit lot, I wondered, not for the first time, why I chose to park all the way at the other end. I told myself when I did it that it was for the exercise, but it seemed I always forgot just how dark it got, so that when it came time for me to go home, I wished my car were closer.

"Oh, well," I sighed, glancing upwards as one of the street lamps flickered and went out. "Damn." Not that I was afraid of the dark, mind you, I just kept up on the news, and there had been stories of a guy lurking in local department store parking lots after dark, waiting for female customers or employees to walk out alone. Then, he'd attack them, rape them, and then leave their dead body in a ditch somewhere. Call me crazy, but I didn't feel like being number seven on his count.

So, when I felt someone grab my shoulder, I immediately spun around and kicked them in the side, ready to fight for my life.

To my horror it was not the guy from the news, it was my boss.

"Just wanted to tell you left your house keys on the counter," he coughed out, and I felt horrible as I waited for him to regain his breath.

"Christ, Jerry, I'm sorry," I said, honestly. "I thought you were that stalker guy from the news that everyone's been talking about. You scared the living crap out of me!"

He smiled. "I was just checking your reflexes. Good girl," he praised, chuckling as he told me to have a good night, and then walked back inside the store. Shaking my head at my overreaction, I unlocked my car and drove home, still unable to get the thought of the stalker out of my head.

CHAPTER THREE

My work on Saturday went surprisingly fast, and before I knew it, it was three in the afternoon. Almost time for me to go home! Plus, I was supposed to get paid after my shift, so that was an added bonus. I had worked about three hours overtime during the week, and was looking forward to a small increase in my pay.

All thoughts of money, however, immediately left my head as I saw the next customer in my line.

"Mary Jane?" I exclaimed, as I scanned the packages she'd lain on the belt. "Hey, how are you doing?"

She seemed reluctant to meet my eyes. "Good, thank you," she said, quietly.

Deciding that the middle of a crowded store was not the time to push, although I really felt something was very wrong, I smiled instead and said, "Your total comes to $8.76."

Startled, she glanced up at me, and I noticed a nice shiner on her right eye, which she had apparently tried to cover up with make-up. Pretending not to notice for the time, I swallowed my anger, and listened to what she was saying.

"I… I only have seven dollars," she admitted, and then glanced at her meager purchases, trying to decide what to take back so she'd be able to afford it. She'd only bought three items: a package of drawing paper, some art pens, and one charcoal pencil.

I grinned, and winked at her, pulling a few dollars out of my pocket, placing them in the drawer along with her money. "Well, what do you know? Out of nine dollars, that's twenty-four cents change," I declared, handing her the change, and she stared at me for a moment, before smiling a little. She may not have shown it very much on the outside, but her emerald eyes held all the joy in the world.

"Thank you," she whispered, stuffing the coins in her pocket and hurrying out the door. Unable to dwell on the incident any longer, I was forced to turn to my other customers, who gave me strange looks, after realizing what I'd done.

I said nothing to them, but wondered if they knew that I would have done that for anyone. A difference of less than two dollars was no reason to tell someone they couldn't buy something, so I saw no reason to make Mary Jane return an item just because she didn't have the exact amount. Remember what I said about giving and kindness being in my genes? I really meant it; it was almost natural for me to help someone out, if it was in my power.

And, really, I'm not being conceited, here. Just honest.

Driving home after work, paycheck on the seat beside me, the only thing I could think about was Mary Jane. More specifically, who did I get to beat the crap out of for giving her that black eye? I had no idea where the protective urge came from, but I wasn't about to try to stop it - it felt too right, almost like I was supposed to watch over the young woman.

Yeah, yeah, I still don't understand it. Don't ask.

Anyhow, I think my dad must have noticed my sullen mood, because he commented on it at dinner that night.

"Bailey, are you okay?" he asked, and I glanced up from my plate.

"Huh?"

"Come on, Doc, you've been acting strangely ever since you got home," he explained, and I had to admit that I hadn't even realized it. "Did something happen at work?"

I sighed. "Kind of," I confessed, never being one to hold anything back from my dad if he asked. "I saw a friend of mine there, and she had a black eye. I haven't known her that long, but I guess I'm just upset that somebody hit her." I took a deep breath, and continued, lowly, "And I wasn't there to stop it."

My dad gave me a hard look. "Bailey, I'm sure if she needs your help, she'll come to you. Everything will work out," he said, trying to make me feel better. It didn't work, but I smiled a little anyway.

"Thanks, dad," I said, and finished my meal, helping him clean the table before insisting that he sit on the couch so I could check his arm. It seemed to be healing well, and I was pleased, telling him to make sure he didn't go back into work until the stitches were out and to keep it clean at all times.

He chuckled. "Yes, doctor," he smirked, and I gave him a mock glare.

"That's Doc, to you," I informed him, kissing his cheek before relaxing on the couch, patting Soda gently on the head. I wasn't even watching the TV, I was too absorbed in my own thoughts, and the stroking of my dog's fur was obviously done in a distracted manner, since I didn't even notice when he got up to get something to eat and I was left petting thin air.

My dad got up and put his hand on my shoulder, startling me. "Bailey, it's ten o'clock. We both need to get to bed," he urged, and I agreed, stretching as my back bluntly told me I'd been lying in an uncomfortable position for longer than I thought.

"Okay. Good night, dad," I said, stumbling to my bedroom, falling onto my bed, still fully clothed, asleep in minutes. My dreams were riddled with images of a faceless stalker and Mary Jane being beaten by the unknown man in the blue Honda… needless to say, I did not have a very good night's sleep.

* * * * *

Tina called around nine the next morning, and wanted to see if I could go to the movies with her. Checking in with my dad, he said he'd need my help in the garage, since I wasn't allowing him to use his injured arm.

"Sorry, Tina," I sighed, and my friend shrugged.

"That's all right, Bailey. I'll catch you at work tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah. Later," I said, and we both hung up. Telling Soda to stay in the house, since Dad didn't like it when he messed around with the grease in the garage, I started in that direction wearing an old pair of jeans and a T-shirt already stained with oil. My black hair was pulled back in a ponytail, to keep it out of my face, and I had a red mechanic's rag stuffed in my back pocket. I knew I'd be getting dirty, and dressed accordingly.

"When does the guy want this back?" I asked, glancing at the second car in our garage; I parked mine in the driveway most of the time.

The first one was my dad's, a 1993 Toyota Tundra pickup truck, silver with a blue patch on the side that advertised his business - he didn't own his own repair shop, but often did jobs on the side for extra income. The second one was the one we were working on, an old '67 Pontiac Firebird, bright red with black leather interior and a pair of fuzzy dice hanging from the rearview mirror… never question the taste of a paying customer, no matter how strange or eccentric.

"I told him I'd have it done by Monday, since he dropped it off on Friday," he explained, going through his toolbox to find what we'd need. Handing the tools to me as he pulled them out, I set them on the ground by the Pontiac, which was up on jacks. Apparently, the owner wanted the brakes replaced and the transmission checked. My dad had flushed out the tranny while I was at work yesterday, managing to do it successfully with little use of his right hand, so that left me to replace the brakes.

What fun.

"Great," I sighed, kneeling down to remove the tires, and then slithering under the vehicle to get a better look at everything. It wasn't entirely necessary that I be on my back, but since our jacks didn't go as high as the ones in professional shops, I couldn't exactly stay on my knees and have a good view of the underneath of the car.

"My God, no wonder he's been complaining!" I exclaimed, taking a good look at the cables and pads that made up the brake system. "I don't think these brakes have been seen since this car first came off the lot. The pads are worn down to nothing; I'd be surprised if the bearings aren't in the same condition."

It took me most of the day to get the car fully operational again, and I did pretty well in the safety department. I only gave my dad a heart attack once, when my arm hit the jack, and it rocked back and forth for a few seconds, the car threatening to come down on top of me... luckily, the jack held, and I was safe. I think that was the only time my clumsiness showed up that day, which was good, considering the amount of work I ended up doing. I not only had to replace the brakes, but I took the liberty of rotating the guys' tires and making sure the bearings were tight. Having to replace a couple of the said parts, I was shocked that the friction of a loose bearing hadn't caused a fire - I'd seen it happen before. The owner of the Pontiac was a very lucky idiot.

"Children and fools, I tell you," I muttered, wiping off my hands with the rag once I was done. My dad came in, carrying a glass of ice water. "Thanks," I said, wiping the sweat from my eyes with the back of my hand, smearing grease across my forehead, judging by the laugh that my dad failed to hold back.

"Quiet, you," I scowled, downing my drink in four swallows. I was hot, sweaty, tired, and my back was killing me. "We have got to get a cart before I lay down and can't get up again," I noted, and my dad agreed - having to get down on the concrete was hard on him, too.

Walking in the house, I dropped to my knees in the living room, holding my arms open and throwing my head back. "I worship the air conditioning God," I proclaimed, as my dad laughed at my antics. Feeling the cool air for a few minutes, I struggled to my feet, and announced that I was going to take a shower.

"I was going to suggest that," Darryl called, waving his hand in front of his nose. "It was either you take a shower or I move out."

"Very funny, dad. Laugh it up," I said, chuckling as I walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind me. As soon as I saw my reflection, I burst out laughing. I had grease on my forehead, my chin, and even in my hair! Not to mention my arms and clothes, which were completely black… the only thing that allowed me to recognize myself were my blue eyes. My dad always said they stood out, and were one of my best features. It was a good thing I wasn't too attached to the clothes I was wearing, since the idea of having to burn them had passed through my mind more than once.

Stepping into the shower once I'd thrown my dirty clothes in the laundry hamper, I rinsed off quickly, scrubbing the grease out of my hair. Despite the warm weather, the hot water felt good on my sore back, and I was tempted to just fall asleep in there, until my nose told me that my dad was making spaghetti, as well as his infamous homemade spaghetti sauce from scratch.

The water was off in a heartbeat, and I dried off as quickly as I could, wrapping the towel around my body as I made my way into my bedroom. I threw on a pair of boxers and a T-shirt, my sleepwear, enveloped my hair up into the towel so it could dry naturally as I ate, and headed for the kitchen.

"Smells good," I praised, peeking in the pot to see homemade sauce simmering. "Mm…" Deciding it smelled good enough to taste, I went to dip a finger in the thick red sauce, which had tomatoes and mushrooms in it, but never got the chance.

My hand was slapped away before I could sneak a taste. "Bailey! Why don't you go set the table instead of bothering your old man?" my dad suggested, and I raised an eyebrow at his description of himself as I reached for the plates.

"Old man? Does that mean I can call you that?" I questioned, interested.

"Not on your life, young lady," was the expected reply, and I laughed. "The day you call me old man is the day I hit sixty."

"Oh, so not too far away, huh?" I joked, earning a fierce slap on my rear end, the thin material of my shorts doing absolutely nothing to protect the said area. "Hey!" I exclaimed, rubbing my now sore posterior. "Cheap shot!" In reality, my dad was not very old, having just celebrated his fortieth birthday a few months before; or, as he liked to call it, "the twentieth anniversary of his twentieth birthday".

I wasn't buying the innocent look he was now trying to pass off as genuine.

"Just be lucky you're injured," I growled, retrieving the forks in cautious silence, keeping a close eye on my dad. With no more attacks on my behind, it was a very pleasant evening, and an excellent meal. My dad was a great cook, and while I was almost as good as he, I didn't do it very often. Oh, sure, every once in a while I'd surprise him by preparing a meal worthy of some fancy restaurant, but that was usually only on special occasions, like his birthday or Father's Day. Other than that, I pretty much stuck to pizza or take-out, rather than using my culinary skills for everyday meals.

He didn't seem to mind doing most of the cooking, so it worked out well.

I stayed up for a while afterwards, watching some movie on TV, which turned out to be a mini-series. I still firmly believe that the worst three words in the entire world have to be "To Be Continued". Snarling in frustration at the screen, I changed channels, before my dad spoke up.

"Bailey, it's late, and you've got school tomorrow," he reminded, and I sighed, giving him the remote in case he decided to watch TV after I left.

"I know. Good night," I said, kissing his cheek before calling to Soda and heading to bed. I had a relatively peaceful sleep, for once looking forward to school, and even Mr. Newton's class, because it meant I had a chance to talk to Mary Jane. And maybe even find out who hit her… whoever it was, they were in big trouble when I found them.

That much was a given.

* * * * *

I managed to make it to school on time the next morning, but my classes were taking forever! It felt as though Mr. Timmens, my History teacher, had been at the board for hours, lecturing to us about one thing or another that I had tuned out long ago. He was always throwing in stories that I swear had no correlation whatsoever to the lesson, so I'd learned to avoid paying attention during those parts. The textbook taught me everything I needed to know to get an A, and that was all that mattered.

Once I walked into Calculus, however, and saw Mary Jane sitting in her seat, very focused on whatever drawing she was working on, time seemed to fly. Figures, the one class that I'd want to last all day went by the quickest. Due to Mr. Newton's annoying habit of glancing over his shoulder to my desk, a habit that he had apparently just picked up over the weekend, I was unable to pass any notes to Mary Jane.

Waiting outside of class after the bell rang, as I had on Friday, I once again offered to take Mary Jane out to lunch.

This time, she refused, staring at the ground as she said, "I'm sorry, Bailey, but I… I can't go with you anymore."

I frowned. "What do you mean, you can't?" I questioned, firmly. Her only response was to hang her head even further. "Mary Jane, if you don't want to go, please just say so. I'll understand, but I don't like being lied to."

"I… I'm sorry, I really am, but I can't. I should go… he'll be looking." She muttered the last part under her breath, and it was not meant for me to hear I'm sure, but I caught it.

I took her arm before she could leave. "Who? Who, Mary Jane? Who will be looking for you?" I asked, and then took a guess. "That guy that was in the car with you after school on Friday?"

She glanced up at me, her startled look telling me I'd guessed correctly. Her black eye was still visible, but it seemed to be fading a little, though that didn't mean a thing to me or my anger.

"How did…?"

"I guessed," I stated. "Now, please, Mary Jane, tell me what's going on. Why is that guy looking for you? Who is he? Who hit you?" I fired out my questions in rapid succession, stupidly forgetting what I had discovered on Friday - Mary Jane didn't like to feel trapped. It scared her, and judging by the look in her emerald eyes, she was scared now. Terrified, even.

Damn it. Smooth, Bailey, real smooth, I kicked myself. Time to fix it.

"Look, I'm sorry, Mary Jane," I said, gently. "You don't have to answer if you're not comfortable. I'm just worried, okay? If there's anyway I can do anything to help, please let me know."

There was silence for a while, and then I heard Mary Jane whisper, "My brother."

"What?" I asked, not sure I'd heard correctly, nor what she was referring to.

"My brother on all accounts," she clarified, clearing her throat, still not meeting my gaze. "He drives me home, and… and he wants to make sure that he knows where I am, so he wants to be able to see me outside when he drives by. When I'm not he… he gets upset," my friend finished, but I wasn't stupid - I read between the lines with ease.

"Did you get in trouble on Friday, for going out to lunch with me?" I asked, and she took a deep breath, before nodding. I ran my hand through my hair, and sighed heavily. "Christ, I'm sorry, Mary Jane. I'm really sorry," I repeated, and I was. I felt terrible that the small blonde before me had been beaten because I'd asked her to share a meal with me. It was a very troubling thought.

She looked at her watch. "I… I should go," she said, again. "He'll be by soon."

"Would it be okay if I joined you? Do you think you'd get in trouble if I sat beside you?" I questioned, and she considered my request for a moment.

"I don't know… no one's ever really sat beside me before," she admitted, and I smiled a little as I walked with her down the hall, managing to bump into the door that led to the lunch area as I passed through, my clumsiness rearing its ugly head at the most inopportune of times.

"Well, I'd like to give it a shot, if you're all right with it," I said, trying to recover from my bruised ego. I was pleasantly surprised when Mary Jane didn't laugh - I know she noticed, but she didn't make any attempt at poking fun at me. I appreciated it.

The blonde nodded. "I'd like to have someone to talk to," she confessed, a small smile on her face. I let her lead the way, and she walked directly to a tree at the far end of the outside lunch tables, sitting beneath it as, I assumed, she did everyday. There weren't many other people around, but I took a seat next to her, and watched as she pulled an apple out of her backpack.

"Want half?" she offered, seeing my look of desire as I stared at the fruit, realizing I hadn't brought anything to eat. I'd been hoping to go out for food again and so only had my water bottle in my bag, but my stomach was grumbling loud enough to make me wonder if she could hear it.

I nodded, amending my response with, "But, how?"

She grinned a little, and gripped the red apple with both hands, the fingers of her left hand touching the stem and the fingers of her right touching the bottom. Twisting her wrists, I watched in amazement as the apple split into two near-equal halves from the core.

"Wow." Mary Jane blushed a little, and handed me the bigger half, already munching away on her portion. The apple was ripe and juicy, and very delicious, but I kept expecting to see her pull out a sandwich or something else for her to eat. That was when I remembered she'd told me on Friday she didn't eat much, and that she had just shared half of her only food with me. I felt honored and selfish at the same time.

"Thank you," I said, sincerely. There was silence for a few minutes, and I was at a loss for what to say. I wanted to ask her more about her brother, like when I could meet him to beat the tar out of him, but didn't want to upset her by bringing up the topic. I didn't want to push any more than I already had - at least, not until we were much better friends. And I so very hoped that day would come, and that our friendship would get the chance to grow.

I decided to play it safe for the time being. "So, what did you think of Mr. Newton's little speech today?" I asked, referring to the ten minutes our teacher had taken to tell us more than we ever wanted to know about how calculus is related to the radio.

Mary Jane laughed. "I couldn't tell you if I tried - I was too focused on my drawing," she admitted, and I chuckled.

"Yeah, I noticed." I froze at my slip. "I was rather involved in my notebook, though, and didn't pay a whole lot of attention to much of anything he was saying," I continued, a lame attempt at a cover. If she noticed, she didn't mention it, and I let out the gulp of air I'd taken when my tongue had managed to say something before my brain could stop it.

"Hey, how would you like to come over Thursday to see Soda? I'd invite you before then, but I've got to work today and Wednesday, and Tuesday I have Karate practice for a few hours after school," I explained, having absolutely no clue why I was talking so much. "You could catch a ride with me, and I'd drive you home whenever you wanted. What do you think?"

There was no answer, as the small blonde suddenly became rigid and swallowed hard as she tried to be interested in her hands, which were twirling idly in her lap. Glancing around, I observed an old blue Honda driving around the block, circling twice before speeding down the road, her brother apparently satisfied by what he'd seen.

"Mary Jane? Are you all right?" I asked, concerned, and she blinked, coming back from wherever her mind had taken her.

"What? Oh, yes, sorry," she rambled. "I… I guess it just scares me when he drives by," the young woman admitted, quietly, almost as if she was ashamed to tell me she was frightened.

"I understand," I said, gently, and gave her a moment to collect herself. "What do you think about Thursday? Would you be able to make it?"

She thought it over for a minute, before nodding. "I think I might be able to find some way to go," she replied, and I smiled until I thought my face would break.

"Great!" The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, and I growled. Had forty minutes really gone by so quickly? It was unbelievable. "Well, I guess we'd better get to class. Thanks for letting me eat lunch with you today, Mary Jane," I said, and she looked surprised that I was thanking her.

"Thank you for joining me," she countered, with a smile, and I walked her to her next class: computers. She waved slightly as I walked down the hall to my Spanish class and I glanced back to give her a small grin before I turned the corner. Sinking into my desk, I just knew that the class was going to take forever. After all, now I had something to look forward to.

But, good things come to those who wait, right?

CHAPTER FOUR

I was right. It seemed like three weeks until Thursday finally arrived instead of three days, and even then, the day dragged by slowly. Seconds seemed like minutes, minutes like hours, hours like… well, you get the idea.

To say the least, I couldn't have been happier when the bell rang at the end of the day. For once in my life, I was glad to leave Mr. Renky's class - not because of Mr. Renky, of course, but because I was expecting to find a small blonde waiting for me outside the building.

Mary Jane and I had spent every lunch together from Monday on, sitting beneath the oak tree. I had showed a little bit of intelligence, and began bringing my own lunch, as well as a sandwich or apple for Mary Jane. All she ever brought was one apple, and I made sure she knew it was just fine for her to take half of my sandwich or all of my apple, because I didn't eat it anyway, and it wasn't good for it to go to waste.

Okay, so I could have eaten it if I had to. But that's not the point. The point is that I had realized that my friend rarely brought enough food for herself, and from the small clues I'd been able to put together, she didn't have a lot of food at home, either. Well, I wasn't about to let her go hungry, so I offered her some of what I had, and I usually just happened to bring two sandwiches.

If she was wise to my little scheme, she didn't say anything.

I was glad to find that by Thursday's lunch she seemed to have loosened up a little, and was taking a step forward in the social department, occasionally initiating a topic of discussion between us. I had to watch my often short-fuse temper around her, as well as the level of my voice, because whenever I raised my voice she took two steps back and retreated back into that shell of hers. By that reaction, I deduced that she got yelled at a lot at home, as well as her brother's abuse, and was extra careful to convey the message that she was safe with me, and that I would never hurt her.

Pleased to see her standing at the base of the steps, I grinned, and gestured for her to walk beside me as we wandered out to the student parking lot.

"You can put your stuff in the back seat, if you'd like," I said, folding the passenger seat down so she could do just that. Climbing into the driver's seat, I buckled my seat belt, and waited until she'd also fastened hers before pulling out of the parking space.

"I never go anywhere unless everyone in the car is buckled up," I explained, and she nodded.

"That's good," she agreed, lightly. "Although you're a safe driver."

I grinned. "Thanks, but it's not me I have to worry about, it's all the other crazy people out there on the road," I said, earning another nod from my passenger, this one accompanied by a slight smile.

"Well, this is it," I said, as we rounded the corner to my house. It wasn't really much, being a one-story house with only two bedrooms and one bath, but the yard was kept clean and neat, and the large tree out front helped differentiate it from the others on the block. The house was about twenty years old, my parents having bought it just after they got married, but my dad and I had spent a weekend two years ago repainting it, so it looked a lot newer. I liked the beige color with forest green trim, myself.

"It looks very nice," the blonde commented, as I pulled into the drive.

"Come on in, and I'll give you a tour of the inside," I offered, and she agreed, opting to leave her stuff in the back of my car. Whether or not that meant she was planning on staying for a while I couldn't tell, but I hoped she'd take the chance to relax for a while, away from her brother's strict surveillance.

Unlocking the front door, I was about to warn her about Soda, who had a tendency to jump all over when he was excited, but also to growl at strangers, but it was too late. Soda had already spotted us, and I inwardly cringed as I expected him to bare his teeth and scare Mary Jane.

I was floored. Instead of acting all wound up, or extremely cautious, he immediately went up to her, sniffed her hand, and licked her fingers, whining softly. When the small blonde smiled and patted his head, kneeling down to scratch his ears and under his chin, I figured he'd bowl her over in a heartbeat, like he did me. But, I was wrong again. Soda gently nudged her arm, in appreciation of all the attention he was receiving, but was sure to be very careful around my friend.

Who are you and what have you done with my dog? I thought, incredulously. This was not like Soda at all. Granted, I was tickled pink that the two got along, but I couldn't figure out what had caused the sudden change. Perhaps Soda sensed something about Mary Jane, and realized she seemed to be easily frightened, or maybe he knew she liked dogs… whatever it was, I wasn't about to dispute it.

"This must be Soda," drifted to my ears, and I was pulled out of my thoughts.

I nodded. "Yep, that's my guy. How was your day, Soda?" I questioned, and he bounded over to me, instantly jumping up like he normally did. I was still confused by his behavior, but let it go without too much thought; he liked Mary Jane, and that's all that really mattered.

"Okay, time for the nickel tour," I announced. "This is the living room, the hall, my dad's bedroom is the first door on the left, mine is the second. The bathroom is the only door on the right," I explained, and we headed back down the hall towards the living room again. "This is the kitchen and dining room, past that door is the garage."

Since we were standing in the kitchen, I asked Mary Jane, "Would you like something to drink? We've got milk, juice, and water. I'm afraid we don't drink soda very often."

"Water would be fine," she replied, and I handed her a glass of ice water a few moments later, happening to glance down and see a note from my dad. He'd left about thirty minutes ago, judging by the time, and said he wouldn't be back for a couple hours - he had to get some parts for his work, and then stop and pick up some groceries.

"Well, looks like you won't be able to meet my dad," I sighed, and tapped the paper. "He had to go pick up some supplies. You'll have to come back over again sometime, I'm sure he'd like to meet you," I smiled, and the blonde nodded, sipping her drink as I shuffled my feet, wishing I had something entertaining we could do.

Her green eyes landed on our computer in the living room. "You have a computer?" she asked, and I nodded.

"Yeah, but it's busted right now," I explained. "I usually only use it for the word processing program or Quicken, and my dad doesn't even touch it at all."

She glanced up at me, hopeful. "Mind if I take a look at it?"

I shook my head. "Knock yourself out," I encouraged, and walked with her to the computer desk, watching as she booted it up, pulling a chair up beside her. My friend seemed extremely at ease in front of the screen and keyboard, her emerald orbs taking in all the information that was displayed.

"Oh, it's not busted," she grinned. "The startup commands were edited somehow. See?" she said, trying to point out to me what the problem was, but I was lost. "I can fix it, if you'd like."

"Really? Sure!" Going back to what I recognized as the DOS screen, her fingers flew across the keyboard, and soon she was hitting enter as she went through the startup process step-be-step.

"Here's the problem… now we just… there we go!" she exclaimed, restarting the computer when she was finished. I watched in awe as it loaded flawlessly, no longer giving me the error message.

"Wow. Maybe I should take the computer class," I noted, and she shook her head.

"You'd only learn how to type, really," she cautioned. "I more or less TA that class, and help fix the computers when they're down. I'm in the middle of rebuilding one of the systems right now, actually."

I was very impressed. "That's amazing," I sighed. "How'd you learn how to do all this stuff, if not in class?"

She fell silent for a moment, as if trying to figure out how to respond, and I was afraid I had somehow asked the wrong question and pushed too far. "We have one at home, and I'm always the one who fixes it… there's not much else for me to do, so I'm working on it all the time," she replied, at last, and I decided it would be best to get away from the topic of 'home' for a while.

"Want to come see what I do for fun?" I requested, and she nodded, getting to her feet and following me to the garage. Flipping the light on, I showed her the single vehicle - my dad's was out, of course, but the customer's 1973 Jeep Wrangler was up on blocks, waiting to be returned to its owner on Saturday. There was grease and tools everywhere, and it smelled of oil, but it was a garage, after all.

"This is what I usually end up doing on the weekends," I explained, making a sweeping motion with my arm, as if to encompass the entire room. "I help my dad with the cars; he's a mechanic."

She looked at the tools and parts with wide eyes. "Seems like a lot of work," she commented, and I nodded.

"Yeah, but I actually enjoy it." I really did; if I was having a rough day, often the best thing I could do was either go for a run with my dog or climb underneath an old car and tinker around for a bit. I had to concentrate solely on what I was seeing, and what needed to be repaired, so in a way, it was relaxing.

"How do you know what to do?"

I shrugged. "My dad taught me… it's just a matter of knowing the basics, and then applying it to whatever year and make each car is, since each is a little different. Then you just have to know what each part does and how it should sound, so when something goes wrong, it's pretty simple to just listen to it and figure out what it could be," I explained, lightly. It really sounded easy to me, but the looks Mary Jane was giving me told me she didn't find it as effortless. She knew the computer and I knew cars - to each their own, I figure.

"Hey, you stick to computers and I'll stick with cars. Sound like a deal?"

Mary Jane smiled. "Sure," she agreed, and I turned off the light, closing the door behind us as we headed into the living room.

Mary Jane ended up staying about two hours, and we had fun just kicking back on the couch, watching a movie that she'd picked out. The small blonde had a silly grin plastered on her face the entire time, brought on by the dog that refused to remove his head from her lap.

"You're welcome to come over anytime," I said, as we climbed back into my car. "Just say the word, and you've got a ride, okay?"

She smiled warmly. "Thanks, Bailey. Today was fun." That little statement made me happy - I was glad I'd been able to give her a place where she could relax and have a good time, without having to worry about whatever went on at her home.

"I'll walk you to the door," I offered, already out before she could protest. Helping her carry her bags, I waited patiently as seemed to be gathering her courage to open the door.

Suddenly, before she could reach for the knob, the door was opened from the inside, and a large man in his mid-twenties stood before us, greasy black hair and all. He was probably three inches shorter than me, with hard eyes of steel and a sneer permanently etched on his face, I'd bet.

"Where the hell have you been?" he demanded, speaking to Mary Jane.

The girl blushed a little, and tried to make herself smaller, apparently embarrassed that this was happening in front of me. I wasn't too thrilled about it either, trust me.

"I told you I was going over to a friend's house today," she reminded, her voice so quiet I almost couldn't tell she'd said anything.

"Dinner was an hour ago. When you didn't show, I gave what was left to the dog," he spat, and I saw Mary Jane nod, accepting this as if it was normal.

Wait a minute; didn't Mary Jane say her dad was allergic? I asked myself, confused. I suddenly realized there were probably a lot of things that Mary Jane hadn't been exactly truthful to me about, but with a brother like this, I really couldn't blame her. I'd make up something, too, if this was what telling the truth meant.

"Get your ass in here and clean up this mess," he growled, grabbing her by the back of the neck and dragging her in the house, her green eyes locking with mine and pleading for me not to make anything of what was going on.

"Mary Jane!" I called, quickly. "Here's your stuff," I said, waiting for her to take her backpack and books. She just swallowed hard and bowed her head, refusing to move towards the door. Instead, the guy I assumed was her brother took them from me, grabbing them from my hands, slamming the door in my face.

"Well, that was interesting," I muttered under my breath, heading back to my Explorer after a minute. All I wanted to do was bust down the door and beat the living crap out of the little prick that had hurt Mary Jane, but then I recalled the look in her eyes when she'd met my gaze - something in those emerald orbs told me that wasn't the time.

I only hoped Mary Jane would come to me when it was time.

* * * * *

Friday had never sucked so bad. Usually, it's a pretty good day, what with it being the end of the week and all, but this time, I hated it. Mary Jane wasn't in school, so I didn't see her all day, and all I could think was that her brother had beaten her so badly she couldn't come. That wasn't a pleasant thought, and I spent the entire day worrying about her, which meant I was distracted and my clumsiness showed up ten-fold. I don't know how many times my teachers or my boss told me to "get on the ball" or something like that.

By the time I stumbled home at ten-fifteen, I felt horrible. What if inviting Mary Jane over had gotten her into trouble? That would mean I was responsible for her getting hurt, and I didn't like that idea at all. In fact, it made me feel bad enough to call in sick to work on Saturday - I hated doing it, because I liked my job, but I just couldn't concentrate. I was literally worried sick about my friend, and fretting that I had been the cause of any further injury.

If my dad picked up on my mood, he didn't say anything; he just made sure I stayed in bed most of the day, since I said I didn't feel well. I spent a few minutes on the phone with Tina, and explained the situation to her.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, and I sighed.

"I don't know. I'd like to go over there and check on her, but I have a feeling that would only make things worse for her. I don't want to wait until Monday either, damn it!" I added, sternly.

"Do you have her number? Maybe you could call her," my friend suggested.

I frowned. "No," I replied, sullenly. "Listen, I've got to go. My dad's making some soup for me, and he should be bringing it in pretty soon."

"You're really worried about her, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I really am," I confirmed, and heard my dad knock on my bedroom door. "Well, there's the room service. I'll talk to you at work on Monday, Tina," I said, and hung up, calling my dad into the room.

Seeing him walk in, balancing a bowl of soup in his hand, I grinned. "Okay, where's the hunk I ordered for my massage? And waiter, there's a fly in my soup. When you come back, could you bring…?"

My dad glowered at me, setting the bowl carefully on my lap. "He's not coming, that's too damn bad, and no," he responded, breaking into a smirk as I waited for my meal to cool off. "How are you feeling, Doc?"

I shrugged. "All right, I guess. Just a little hungry."

"You finish that, and I'll bring you some toast if you're still hungry, okay?" he offered, and I nodded, smiling a little as he kissed my forehead and left the room. Left alone once more, I sipped at the warm tomato soup, unable to keep my mind from drifting to Mary Jane, my writer's imagination taking over as I thought of the numerous things she could be doing at that very moment…

She could be working on the computer, or drawing in her art book. There was a possibility she was even playing with whatever dog they owned, or that her brother was beating her up for staying at my house…

My stomach turned again and I couldn't finish my soup. I prayed for Monday to come quickly, so I could put an end to my suffering and find out what happened to Mary Jane. I slept for the rest of the day, hoping to make the weekend go by faster. My dad encouraged me to relax on Sunday, too, and before I knew it, my alarm was going off on Monday morning.

I hurried to school, anxious to find Mary Jane. Rushing to Mr. Newton's class, I frowned when Mary Jane's seat was empty. The tardy bell rang, and still no Mary Jane - my heart raced as I wondered where she was and what had happened over the weekend.

CHAPTER FIVE

About ten minutes later, I glanced up when the door opened, only to see Mary Jane walk in the classroom. My heart jumped into my throat when I watched her hand the pass to Mr. Newton and find her seat, sure something was wrong… I didn't really see any marks, but something told me she was hurt. I could feel it, like I was hurt, too. It was strange, but I wasn't going to question it.

I couldn't wait for class to be over. I told myself I wasn't going to freak out; I wouldn't corner her, because it would only scare her. I would just ask her quietly if she was okay, and then see if she wanted to tell me what happened.

That all went to Hell in a hand-basket when I saw Mary Jane's swollen lip.

Gently taking her by the arm, I pulled her aside, and ducked my head down to meet her gaze. "What happened? Did he hit you? What? Christ, Mary Jane, what did he do to you?"

She looked down. "Nothing, I just wasn't looking where I was going and ran into the corner of the cabinet door," she replied, as though she had rehearsed the line. I wouldn't doubt it if she had.

My stare softened. "Mary Jane, this is me, remember? You can tell me," I insisted, quietly, and I watched as she seemed to argue with herself.

"Bailey, no, I don't want you to get involved," she said, at last. "Please, don't get involved. Don't worry about me."

"I can't help it." It was out before I could stop it. Damn loose tongue… I quickly tried to cover myself with, "I mean, you're my friend, and I have to worry about you."

The small blonde was silent. "You really mean that?" she asked, hopeful, and I nodded, no hesitation.

"Yes," I confirmed, evenly.

She finally looked up at me. "Thank you." That was all she said, and I realized it would take time for her to fully open up to me. But, hey, we were at a starting point, that was for sure! I was surprised she'd even told me about her brother the week before; I took that as a good sign, that maybe she trusted me.

I was about to ask if I could eat lunch with her again, when Mr. Heath happened to walk by. "Miss Smith, I want to see you in my office. Now," he added, sternly, and I glared at him.

"What is his problem?" I growled. Turning back to my friend, I softly squeezed her shoulder, and encouraged, "Why don't you go ahead and eat? If I get done in time, I'll join you. If not, I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" She nodded, wished me good luck with a small smile, and headed down the hallway as I started for the principal's office.

I didn't have to wait as the secretary waved me right in, and I sat in the chair by his desk, wondering what I'd done now.

"Miss Smith, it seems that Mr. Newton has been having some more complaints about your behavior in class," he stated, and I rolled my eyes. "Due to this, I'm removing you from his class."

My head snapped up and I locked eyes with him. "What?" I exclaimed. He couldn't take me out; it was the only class I had with Mary Jane, goddamn it! "You can't do that! I haven't done anything wrong!"

"Passing notes and then lying, Miss Smith? That's hardly nothing."

I glared at him. "I want to talk to my counselor," I ordered, and he smirked.

Jesus, it sounds like I'm asking for my lawyer before any further questioning, I thought, on edge. Maybe I need one… I really don't like this ass hole.

"I'm afraid that's not possible, Miss Smith. This was a direct request from Mr. Newton, and I will handle it myself. Your counselor has no place in these proceedings," he replied, evenly, and I felt my blood boil.

Have I mentioned yet that it wasn't a good idea to piss me off? It takes a lot to get me really mad, but when it happens, it's not a pretty sight, I guarantee it. I was fantasizing about ripping the man's head off and using it as a paperweight at the moment, and that was beginning to sound like a great option; even better than taking the yardstick by his desk and sticking it…

Instead, I knew I had to get out of there before I really carried through, and did something I was sure I'd only regret…. much, much later. Getting to my feet, I went for the door, only to be stopped by Mr. Heath calling my name.

"And Miss Smith?" I paused, but refused to face him. "Your schedule change will be in effect tomorrow." Grabbing the doorknob, I opened the door, and slammed it with all my might as I walked out, praying I broke at least one picture frame on his wall.

Son of a bitch! I swore to myself, angrily, stalking out to the lunch area. Goddamn cock sucking… In my anger, I punched the tree Mary Jane was leaning against, hard enough to make me wince.

"Bailey?" came a quiet voice, and my ire drained away as I heard the tears in her voice. Glancing down, I saw the fear in her eyes, and prayed I hadn't been the cause as I sat beside her.

"Sorry. Damn, that hurt," I muttered. "It's just that Mr. Heath has had it out for me since my freshman year. I don't know what stick he's got up his ass, but…" The young blonde gently took my hand, and examined it with a rather expert eye, apologizing softly when I flinched as she found a particularly sore spot, my voice trailing off under her amazingly tender touch.

"Well, nothing's broken," she deduced, and I was a little relieved to hear that. "What did he say that made you so upset, Bailey?"

I sighed. I really didn't want to tell her, but I had to. I didn't like to lie, plain and simple as that. Not to say that I didn't lie, I just didn't like doing it. But, if someone asked me a question, I answered it flat out.

"He said he's removing me from Mr. Newton's class as of tomorrow," I told her, and her startled green eyes looked up at me.

"But, why?" she cried, and I shrugged.

"He says it's because I've been causing trouble, but I honestly believe he just doesn't like me. Mary Jane, were you crying before I walked out here?" I asked, after a pause, and she nodded. I hooked her chin with my good hand to make her look at me. "Can you tell me why?"

She sniffled again. "I came out here just in time to see my brother drive away," she explained. "He didn't see me… he doesn't know I was out here."

I cursed under my breath. "That means he's going to be upset, doesn't it?" She nodded, slowly, and I felt my heart break as I saw the tears return. The blonde was genuinely frightened at the prospect of angering her brother, and I couldn't blame her, but I still didn't like seeing her cry, so I did the only thing that came to my mind. I put my arm around her shoulders and gave her a strong hug, letting her cry on my shoulder all she needed, which ended up being until lunch was over and the bell rang.

"You all right?" I asked, gently, pulling back a little bit to get a good look at her face. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, and tears stained her cheeks, so I pulled the water bottle out of my backpack, giving her a chance to wash her face.

"Thanks," she said, quietly, handing it back to me when she was done. She looked a little better, but I could tell she was still upset.

"Hey, will you be okay?" I questioned, getting to my feet as I offered her a hand up. We were the last ones walking in, but I didn't care. All that mattered to me at the moment was making Mary Jane feel better.

She nodded. "I think so." Watching her take a shuddering breath, I got an idea, and quickly pulled a pen from my pocket. Writing my phone number on a small piece of paper, I handed it to her, making sure she knew I meant for her to have it.

"Anytime you need to talk, you call me, okay? I mean it, Mary Jane. If you ever need somebody to talk to, just pick up the phone and dial that number. I'll always be there, all right?" Seeing her agree, and stuff the number in her pocket, I grinned, gave her one last swift hug, and was on my way down the hall to my Spanish class, not caring in the slightest that I was late.

Apparently, Mrs. Garcia minded, because I was told the next time I was late I'd be holding a detention slip in my hand. Damn, I was having a bad day. Besides getting to hug Mary Jane, my Monday had been horrible, and I'd never been so glad to be home.

"I don't want you to go to work today, Bailey," said my dad, as soon as I walked through the door.

What was that I said about being glad to be home?

"What? Why?" I asked, startled.

"I was watching the news today, and the Parking Lot Stalker, as they've started calling him, is getting a lot bolder. He struck in broad daylight today, and it was just a few blocks from where you work," he explained, evenly. "He's all over the news, now; he's even bigger than all the money the town's been losing. I don't want you going to work with him so close."

I smiled, gently. "Dad… you and I both know that we need the money, and you and I both know that I can take care of myself," I reminded. "I'll be fine."

"But, I don't want you walking out there all alone after dark," he protested.

I sighed. "Look, I'll have Jerry walk out with me, if it'll make you feel better, okay?" I offered, knowing my father's concern was well meant.

I could tell he was hesitant to let me go, but he finally accepted, and wished me a good night as I walked out the door.

"Bailey! Come straight home!" he called, and I nodded, before climbing in my car and driving to work, just wanting the day to be over already.

Did I mention that people suck? The people in line at Wal-Mart were being true annoying customers, and I use that term loosely. Everyone thought I charged them too much, be it tax or otherwise, and my cheery little "Have a nice day" just got me evil looks. I guess it only works if you smile and look like you mean it.

I couldn't help it if I wanted everyone to go to Hell. I did, too. I would be very happy if the only people left on Earth were me, my dad, Mary Jane, and Tina. That would suit me just fine. The devil could roast Mr. Heath on a rusty pitchfork, for all I cared. And Mr. Newton right alongside him, too…

"Hey, Earth to Bailey… come in, Bailey." Jerry was waving his hand in front of my face, a rather bemused expression portraying itself in a half-cocked eyebrow… he'd been working on the technique ever since he saw me do it, but just didn't cut it.

"Huh? Oh, what's up, Jer?" I questioned, and he smirked.

"It's time to go home, Bailey… I don't know what planet you were on, but it's ten-fifteen, and I think Patrick would kind of like to start work, now," he explained, chuckling.

"Sorry, Jer, I guess I zoned out there for a minute," I apologized. "It's been a long day. I'll see you Wednesday, all right?" My boss nodded, and told me to take care of myself, so I didn't get sick again, remembering my call on Saturday. I said I'd try, and walked out the automatic doors, beginning to untie my vest as I went.

I was halfway to my car, which I'd managed to park at the end of the parking lot again, before I reached in my pocket and realized my keys were in on the counter. I'd forgotten them, again.

I swear, I'd forget my head if it wasn't screwed on tight. I am not a klutz; I just have bad luck, I told myself, as I ran my hands through my hair, frustrated.

"Damn it, what else could go wrong?" I muttered, heading back towards the store. "Forgot my keys," I told Jerry, grabbing them from beside the cash register where Patrick was now working. "Have a good night, Patrick. Good night, Jerry."

With that said, I was walking back to my car, intent on going home and collapsing into bed. The next time I opened my eyes, I wanted it to not be Monday anymore. I considered writing to Congress and asking them to change the name of the day… maybe that would help…

Suddenly, there was a hand over my mouth and I was pulled to the ground. Struggling, I bit down hard on the hand that was covering my mouth, and the guy howled in pain, but didn't release me, so I jabbed my left elbow back into his gut. That loosened his hold, and I jumped to my feet, spinning around to face him. He was already standing, and I noticed the gleam of the knife in his hands.

Taking a defensive position, I barely missed being cut as he swiped at my stomach, and I stepped back a little. When he came at me again, I turned to protect my middle, and he sliced my left arm. Seeing the blood and feeling the pain, I growled at him. With a roundhouse kick, his weapon went flying, and I followed through with a sidekick to his chest.

He ran at me, and drew his left hand back as if to punch me, but I caught his arm and pulled him closer, hitting him with a punch of my own, cursing to myself when the memory of hitting the tree earlier in the day was apparent. I'd already hurt my hand before, but I was right-handed, so I instinctively punched first with that hand.

Bad idea. It hurt like the dickens, but it still did some damage, because the man staggered backwards, and I kicked him in the side. The pain in my arm was beginning to get to me, but I couldn't lose my concentration. This guy was strong, I knew, but I had the edge, for the moment. One slight mistake and he could gain the upper hand.

With a swift kick to the jaw, he was out like a light, and I paused as I wondered what to do with him. Noticing that he wasn't wearing a ski mask, I realized it couldn't have been the stalker from the news - I must have stumbled upon a copycat.

Great. Now there's more than one freaking stalker in this town, I sighed.

I didn't want to just walk off and leave him, because I was afraid he'd come to and run off, so at the top of my lungs, I began calling for Jerry.

"Bailey! Bailey, what's wrong?" he shouted, running out into the parking lot. Seeing the man at my feet, he let loose with a long line of curse words I didn't even think he knew. "Stay here with him, I'll call the police."

"Hey, Jerry, do me a favor and call my dad, too, okay? He was worried about me anyway, and I'd like to let him know I'm all right. He'll be freaking out since I'm not home by now," I said, and the man nodded, pausing when he saw me holding the upper part of my left arm.

"He had a knife?"

I nodded. "It's not that bad, Jer. Just call the cops, all right? I'll make sure he doesn't go anywhere," I urged, and my boss agreed, hurrying back into the store while I drug the unconscious man over by a lamppost. He was pretty heavy; 6 foot, maybe 150 pounds… pretty good-sized guy, but he wasn't the stalker. Too amateur. I'd be willing to bet the guy my dad heard about earlier was a copycat, too. No criminal who's escaped the cops a half-dozen times would be stupid enough to strike in the middle of the day.

The sirens drew me from my thoughts, and I sighed as I let the paramedics stitch the gash on my arm. They said I was very lucky it didn't go any deeper, and hit a nerve.

Jerry was sitting right beside me, so I asked, "Did you call my dad?"

He nodded. "He should be here soon."

"What the fuck did you tell him?" I cursed. "I didn't mean for you to have him drive all the way over here! Jesus Christ, Jerry!"

"I just told him you were in the parking lot with the stalker, but he hung up before I could finish."

"You don't have kids, do you, Jer?" He shook his head. "You may have just given my dad a heart attack; if you had kids, you would know that hearing they're in trouble without knowing if they're okay is the worst thing that can happen. Shit. He'll flip his lid when he drives up and sees the cops and the ambulance…"

No sooner were the words out of my mouth than a silver Toyota Tundra came barreling up to the scene. The cops tried to hold him back, but when he explained who he was, an officer led him over to where I sitting, waiting patiently for the EMT to finish bandaging my wound.

"Bailey, are you okay?" he demanded, enveloping me in a fierce embrace as soon as he was close enough. I saw the unshed tears in his eyes, and pulled him to me with my good arm.

"I'm fine, dad. I'm sorry Jerry gave you the wrong idea… I really wasn't in trouble, I just ran into that guy over there who decided it'd be fun to pick on me," I explained. "Which wasn't a good idea, considering I wasn't having a good day in the first place. He'll have a headache for a few weeks."

"And a broken hand," added one of the officers, who then proceeded to question me on all that had happened. "You did a nice job out there." By the time we were done, I'd been praised on my martial arts, my arm had been sewn, and before I knew it, it was midnight.

The only thing that passed through my mind was: Thank God Monday is over.

CHAPTER SIX

I didn't sleep real well that night, my arm kept throbbing and waking me up, but I somehow managed to get to school on time. Everyone stared at the bandage on my arm, but no one asked me about it… I assumed they didn't have to, since it was on every radio station and every news channel that Bailey Smith had managed to foil a copycat stalker. I should have been something like a hero, I guess, and I got a few nods of appreciation, but no more attention than normal.

Until Mary Jane. I didn't see her, because I didn't have Mr. Newton's class, but I was walking towards the tree where we ate lunch, when she caught up with me.

"Bailey!" she cried, and I turned at her voice.

I couldn't help it; I smiled. "Hey," I greeted, and walked the rest of the way with her by my side.

She immediately pulled me down beside her, and gasped when she saw my arm. "What happened? Are you okay?" she asked, and the concern in her green eyes was so deep I had to remind myself to breathe.

"You didn't hear?" She shook her head, still looking upset. "I had a little run-in with a copycat stalker at work last night. Nothing major, he just decided I'd be an easy target."

"Did he hurt you?"

I shrugged. "He got his knife in once, but now he's sitting behind bars nursing a broken hand and one hell of a headache," I assured her, trying to ignore the feeling that arose from having her hands on my arm. The pain I'd been feeling all day went away almost instantly; it was amazing.

For the first time, I noticed the dark bruise just above her left temple, and the fact that she was wearing a light jacket in the middle of March in Southern California.

My arm was completely forgotten, as I asked, "What did he do to you, Mary Jane? Was he angry because he didn't see you at lunch yesterday?" She nodded, hesitantly, and I took her face in my hands, silently asking to take a better look at the bruise on her head.

It wasn't just a bruise; the dark purple spot was surrounding a small cut just below her hairline. The little shit had given her a concussion.

"How did this happen?"

Mary Jane looked away. "He pushed me and I hit the corner of the coffee table," she whispered. I took it as a good sign that she didn't try to pass off another excuse, but I still didn't like hearing the truth.

"Can I see your arm?" I asked, quietly. I figured if she was wearing a jacket, she must have been hiding something. Looking around to make sure no one was watching, she slowly rolled up the sleeve on her right arm, and showed me the angry red handprint just below her elbow.

"Does it hurt?"

"A little," she shrugged, and I had to resist the Herculean urge to kiss it and make it better… it may sound a little immature, but I really wanted to do that. Anything to take her pain away.

As she put her sleeve back down, she looked right at me and asked one question that I will never forget, for as long as I live: "Why do you care so much?"

That startled me, and I wasn't sure how to answer it. I blinked a few times, thinking quickly, but apparently, not quick enough. She took my silence as a sign that she had upset me, and set about fixing it.

"I… I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked," she said, hanging her head and refusing to look me in the eye. "I didn't mean to speak without permission… I'm sorry."

Without permission? Dear God, what did she go through at home?

"What are you talking about? Mary Jane, please, look at me. Please," I requested, and she slowly met my gaze. "Mary Jane, I am not angry with you. You did nothing wrong, your question only surprised me a little, that's all. You have nothing to apologize for.

"To answer your question, though, I care because you're my friend. I trust you and I want to keep you safe," I explained, gently. "When you get hurt, it hurts me, too. I don't like seeing you in pain, can you understand that? You are my friend, Mary Jane, and to me that means I will do everything in my power to take care of you."

She stared at me, as though no one had ever said such a thing to her. If I had to describe her expression in one word, I think it would be awestruck.

"I… Bailey… Thank you," she decided on, finally, and I just grinned at her.

"You can ask me anything you want, okay? I never want you to feel afraid to talk to me," I said, and she nodded.

"I'll try."

I smiled, and brushed a lock of hair away from her face before I could stop myself. "That's all I can ask," I murmured, pulling my hand back, more than a little surprised by my own actions. She smiled shyly, and eagerly accepted the sandwich I presented, having learned by now that I wouldn't take no for an answer.

As we sat there eating, I noticed her brother drive by, and saw her tense. Tense? Hell, she nearly dropped her food. Reaching over, I lightly squeezed her shoulder, giving her a small nod of encouragement when she looked up at me. She smiled a little, and took a deep breath, but wasn't able to fully recover until the Honda was out of sight.

"Are you okay?" I asked, and she nodded. There was silence between us for a while, but it was a comfortable silence; you know, one where nothing needed to be said.

But, just before the bell rang, I looked over at Mary Jane and asked, "Do you think you'd be able to come over again on Thursday?" I wanted to do anything I could to get her out of her house for as long as possible.

She shook her head. "My brother wants me to go to a party with him on Thursday," she explained, quietly, and I raised an eyebrow at this, but said nothing. When the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, I helped my friend to her feet, and walked her to class.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Bailey," Mary Jane said, and I nodded.

"Same time, same place," I winked, and she smiled, waving as we parted. I hated not having class with her, because that meant my time with her was so short, but I was thankful that I still had the same lunch. If anyone even tried changing my lunch, since our school was big enough to eat in two shifts, it'd probably take ten guys to pull me off the idiot.

Once I got home, I took a run with Soda for a little bit, and then checked up on my dad, both of us more worried about the other's wound. We were both healing well, so I grabbed my gym bag that I took with me to the dojo where I had my Karate lessons, and headed out the door.

Arriving at 5:45, I changed into my gi with ease. My gi, or uniform, consisted of white pants, a white undershirt, a white top with the logo of my dojo imprinted on the back, and, in my case, a brown belt with two black stripes. I was on my way to receiving my black belt, and figured I'd be able to pass the test in July, when our next promotion was scheduled. Tying my hair back into a ponytail, I stepped out onto the floor, barefoot.

The class began at six o'clock, and our sensei, Nancy Moorland, called us into position. Lining up in a straight line, we dropped to our knees when we were told, and began the lesson with a ritual, of which I've forgotten the name. We put our hands up so they formed a triangle with our thumb and forefingers, placed them on the floor, and then bowed our heads so they touched our hands. Rising, we clapped two times, and then bowed once more.

When that was done, we sat back on our heels, waiting for Sensei Moorland to begin. First, she turned to face us, and addressed the entire class, although she was speaking about me.

"Last night, one of our own students was put in a situation where she was forced to use the defensive, and offensive tactics she has learned," she began. She had a kind face, with round brown eyes that seemed to encompass everything in a glance, and blonde hair that went to her shoulders. I'd been a student for quite a few years, and she had always been my teacher; I'd grown to like her very much, despite the fact that she often teased me about being a giant, since she was barely five-foot tall.

"Bailey, would you mind demonstrating for us what you did?" she asked, and I realized I had tuned her out for a little bit. Oops.

"Hai, sensei," I agreed, telling her yes, teacher in Japanese. All twelve of us in the class knew a little bit, and were asked to use it while in the dojo. Sensei Moorland would often go off on a tangent in Japanese, because her grandfather was from Okinawa and had taught her the language when she was very young, but she didn't expect us to learn it fluently.

Glancing up at her, I asked who was going to be my partner. With a small grin, the tiny woman replied, "You'll have the honor of sparring with me, Bailey."

"Oh, goody," I grinned under my breath, and got to my feet to stand before her, in front of the class. Bowing to my opponent, I described to her, in detail, each move the stalker and I had made. We acted them out slowly at first, and then she went a bit faster, so the class could see exactly how quick an attack like that could occur.

About the fifth time we were going through it, Sensei Moorland adlibbed the scene a bit, and wrapped her arm around my neck instead of covering my mouth.

"What would you have done, had he done this?" she asked.

"This." Turning my head towards her elbow, so I could breathe, although the pressure on my windpipe was not much, I lightly elbowed her in the stomach. When she pretended to be hurt, as a real attacker would be, I reached up and grabbed her wrist, quickly spinning out of her grasp and pulling her arm out to the side, twisting it until I was a good two feet away, and she was unable to do anything. I had learned that move long ago, and with a little more strength, I could break a person's arm.

"Very good," she said, and I released my hold, stepping back to bow to her again. "You may be seated." Nodding my head, I returned to my place, kneeling on the floor as she stood over us and spoke.

Class was over at eight, and we'd done quite a bit of sparring with partners and practicing how to roll without hitting your head… basics we'd done quite a few times, but it was always good to brush up on them. I also managed to receive my third black stripe, since Sensei Moorland was proud of the way I'd handled the stalker the night before. Often it was the strangest things that could get us a stripe… but whatever it was had to show we were thinking and paying attention.

While everyone was heading to the locker room to change, I hung back, and my teacher glanced up at me.

"Did you need something, Bailey?" she asked, kindly.

I sighed, and asked to sit beside her. When she nodded, I joined her at the long table on which she was filling out some paperwork, and said, "Sensei Moorland, I need to talk to you." Throughout the entire time we were practicing, I couldn't get Mary Jane out of my head. All the sparring made me think of her and her brother, and I wondered if the class wouldn't be good for her.

"A friend of mine from school… I think she may be in an abusive household, and unable to get out," I explained, lowly. "I was wondering if I would be able to bring her in for a class or two, just to see what we do, and maybe find out if she could join. I think it would do her some good."

Nancy smiled at me. "Bailey, if what you say is true, then there's a good chance that your friend won't be able to be free for many classes, or pay for the gi or the promotion. I doubt the environment she's living in would be very receptive to finding out she's trying to learn how to defend herself," she guessed, and I nodded. She was probably right. "However, with the skill level that you have, I see no reason why you yourself couldn't help her out with some of the basic defense techniques.

"You are, of course, more than welcome to bring her in to observe, but it sounds like it might be difficult for her to get away. And, as always, if you need any help, I'm here. Sound like a plan?" she asked, and I grinned, surprising her by standing up, bowing, and then enveloping her in a strong hug.

"Domo arigato, Sensei," I said. Thank you very much. She just chuckled, and waved me off to change. I entered the locker room feeling a little better about Mary Jane… if I could teach her some blocking techniques, maybe it would help defend her from her brother.

I could only hope.

* * * * *

Thursday came quickly, and I found myself feeling quite lonely as I drove home by myself. I felt bad that I couldn't take Mary Jane away from her brother for at least a little while, but she'd insisted that she had to go with him to this party, over on the far end of town. She wouldn't tell me why he wanted her to go so badly, and even though it made me more than a little uneasy, I didn't pressure her to say anything more.

After my afternoon cartoons and run with Soda, I resigned myself to studying for my Calculus test, which was scheduled for the next day. I was in a different class, so I wanted to be sure I knew as much as I could, just in case my new teacher tested differently.

My dad had turned in early, claiming that he hadn't felt real good all day and I hoped he wasn't getting the flu. It'd been going around school, I knew, and assumed that meant it was all over town, as well.

So, when the phone rang at nine-thirty, I hurried to pick it up before it woke my dad.

"Hello?" I asked, propping it on my shoulder as I stretched out on the couch, my textbook on my lap with my notebook and pencil right beside it. I always did my homework where I was most comfortable.

"Hello?" I repeated, when there was no answer, beginning to fiddle with my pencil, twirling it in my hands.

I was about ready to start cussing out whoever it was that decided to make a prank call, when I heard a soft voice come over the line, "Bailey?"

I froze, my pencil falling to the floor. "Mary Jane? Is that you?" I asked, my heart beating hard when I realized she was actually calling me. That made me think something was wrong.

"Yes," she confirmed, "it's me. I… I'm sorry to bother you, I know it's late, but I'm at the party with my brother," I could hear tears in her voice now and I knew for certain that something was wrong, "and he was my ride… but there's alcohol and drugs and he's too high to drive. He… he told me to walk, but it's dark, and…"

Suddenly she was whispering. "No one knows I'm using the phone," she said, lowly, so she wouldn't be discovered, I guessed. "I understand if you're busy…"

I interrupted her. "Give me the address, Mary Jane," I requested, gently. When she told me the street name, I knew exactly where she was at - and it wasn't a good part of town. "Okay. Go out on the front steps and wait for me, all right? Try to stay near the house, if you can, in a lighted area.

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes to pick you up," I promised, and hung up quickly when she said someone was coming to check on her.

Scribbling a note to my dad in case he wondered where I was, I told him I had to go pick up a friend, and rushed out the door. Driving as fast as I dared, my pounding heart doing nothing to lessen the worry I was feeling, I arrived at the party in just over ten minutes. Mary Jane was sitting on the steps like I'd told her, her form illuminated by the glow of the porch light, and she watched me as I got out of my car.

The first thing I noticed was the red mark on the side of her face, and then the blood trailing down her chin from a split lip. It took all the self-control and discipline I'd learned in Karate to keep myself from marching into that party and beating the living crap out of her brother… and anyone who tried to get in my way, while I was at it.

When I was standing beside her, and she still hadn't gotten to her feet, I opened my arms. That was all the invitation she needed as she stood and wrapped her arms around my waist, crying into my shirt as I held her tightly. Stroking her hair, I kissed the top of her head, and began leading her down the walk to my car.

A slurred voice made her stop in her tracks. "Where the hell do you think you're going with my sister?" he demanded, and I swallowed hard, anger coursing through my veins at an alarming rate.

Before I had a chance to respond, he continued, "Bitch, get your ass back in here. I didn't say you could leave."

Seeing Mary Jane turn around, I grabbed her arm, and shook my head. I wasn't going to let her go back in there with him… not for anything in God's great universe. Motioning for Mary Jane to stay by the Explorer, I approached her brother, who looked even stingier than the first time I'd seen him. Trust me, it was bad. His hair was still greasy, and I doubted he'd taken a shower in a week, he wasn't wearing a shirt, and… well, I'll stop there, in case anyone with a sensitive stomach might be reading.

"I'm taking her wherever she wants to go, do you have a problem with that?" I asked, smoothly.

Make a move on me, I begged, silently. Please, just give me a reason.

"Yeah, I do," he spat, and raised his arm, as if to hit me over the head with his beer bottle. I was ready for him, standing in a semi-squat, also known as a hachi-dachi, my hands open, should I need to block or strike. Just as he was about to follow through, Mary Jane grabbed my arm, and pulled me back, out of his range.

I kept an eye on her brother as she spoke, Mary Jane whispering urgently into my ear, "Please, Bailey, don't hit him. Don't get involved. You'll only make things worse when I go back." Turning to her when her brother decided he needed more beer, I saw the tears in her emerald eyes. "Please, just let him go."

I sighed. "Look, I don't want to get you in trouble," I said, gently. "But I hate knowing what he's doing, and not being able to help!"

"You are helping, Bailey, can't you see that?" she asked, softly. "Just by being here, by being my friend… you are helping." I shrugged; it still didn't feel like enough. I had a feeling nothing would be enough until I was dancing on the little bastard's grave.

I helped her into the car, and then pulled out my first aid kit, turning on the overhead light so I could see what I was doing. Gently taking her chin in my left hand, I began tending to her lip with my right, being as careful as I could not to hurt her.

"Sorry," I grimaced, when she winced. I knew the antiseptic would sting, but I had to make sure it wouldn't get infected.

"He usually doesn't hit me where it shows," she informed me, suddenly. "Only when he's drunk or high does he hit me where other people can see."

"How often is that?" I questioned, not really wanting an answer.

She shrugged, and looked away. "He drinks a lot," was all she'd say.

When I was finished cleaning the cut on her lip, I asked, "Well, where do you want to go? You can crash at my place, if you'd like, or I can take you home. It's up to you, MJ."

The blonde glanced up at me, catching on to the nickname that I'd barely noticed myself, and smiling. "I… I don't know for sure," my friend admitted.

"Do you think you'd get in trouble if you weren't home in the morning?" With a sigh, she nodded. "Well, I don't like either suggestion, then. You're welcome to stay with me, but I don't want you to get in trouble because of it. And yet, I don't like the idea of taking you back home with your brother."

"I took his keys."

I looked at her, startled. "You did what?"

"I… I took his keys, so he can't drive. He's… he's just not sober enough to drive," she explained, and I took a slow, deep breath to keep from screaming out loud. It was all so frustrating! I knew she was doing what she thought was best and taking care of her brother, but I also knew that move would probably get her on his bad side when he was straight enough to realize what happened.

"Does he have the keys to get into the house, at least?" I asked, and she nodded.

"Oh, my parents will be there, if he needs," she assured me, and I thought about that for a moment.

"Could you call your parents, tell them what happened, and then let them know that you're staying over at my house?" I suggested.

My friend looked down. "I could, but they would only be upset at me for bothering them. That's why I didn't call them to come get me," she explained, quietly. "My parents don't take much of an interest in anything I do, just so long as it doesn't interfere with their plans."

Nice family, I retorted, silently. A brother who beats her and parents who couldn't care less what happens to her. Perfect.

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said, honestly. "Look, how about this - I'll take you back to my house, you can call your parents from there in the morning and tell them you thought it was too late to call them tonight, and explain that you didn't feel safe going home with your brother. At least you'll be safe for one night," I pleaded. I really wanted her to come home with me; I hated the idea of the beautiful and intelligent young woman beside me being trapped in an environment like that.

"It is Friday tomorrow…" she mused, aloud. "My brother usually goes to his friend's house on Friday, so maybe he won't even be there when I get home tomorrow. Thank you, Bailey," she smiled, and I winked at her.

"Not a problem, MJ, not a problem." That was when it hit me that I hadn't talked to her about practicing Karate with me yet. It had been on my mind, but I didn't want to discuss it at school, should someone overhear us, since I got the idea that Mary Jane didn't want people to know about her home situation.

"What would you say to learning Karate?" I asked, as I got on the freeway to take her back to my house.

She glanced up at me. "Karate? Why?"

"So you could defend yourself from your brother."

Green eyes widened. "Oh, no, Bailey, I couldn't! Fighting back only makes it worse," she said, speaking quickly. "Please, I couldn't learn… he wouldn't like that!"

My heart dropped at the fear in her voice, and I reached over to squeeze her hand. "All right, all right," I soothed, softly. "It's okay; it was only a suggestion, MJ. You don't have to if you don't want. But, if you change your mind, feel free to ask me anytime, okay?"

"You… you would teach me?" she questioned, after a period of silence.

I nodded. "That way you wouldn't have to worry about paying for the gi or attending class," I said. "We could practice whenever you were able."

"Thank you for the offer," she said, but still didn't accept.

"My dad's already in bed," I began, as we pulled into the driveway, and she immediately started apologizing.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to be an inconvenience! You can take me home, if it's too much trouble…"

I cut her off before she could go any further. "Mary Jane, stop that," I said, gently. "You are not an inconvenience; I invited you, remember? And there's no way I'm taking you home, not if I have the chance to give you one night away from there. Okay?"

She nodded. "Thank you."

I just shrugged, and gave her a half-grin as I unlocked the door. "You can put your stuff in my room," I told her. "It's kind of a mess right now, but my bed's clean. Here, let me see…"

As I was glancing through my closet for a long T-shirt or something that she could use as a nightshirt, I was surprised to hear her gentle voice drift to my ears, "I can't take your bed."

"Well, I don't want you to take it, per say, but you can sleep in it tonight," I teased, lightly.

Mary Jane shook her head without smiling; I guess the idea of putting me out was too serious for her. "No, I mean, I can't make you sleep somewhere else. This is your house and your bed!"

"If you put it that way, then that's also my tile you're standing on and my air you're breathing," I said, evenly. "Mary Jane, please understand that I'm doing this because I want to. I don't expect you to sleep on the couch; you're the guest. It's no trouble at all, I promise.

"Here we go!" I exclaimed, finding the shirt I was looking for. It went down to about my knees, so I expected it would be plenty long on my smaller friend. "You can go change in the bathroom, if you'd like." Taking the shirt from me, she did as I asked, and soon emerged, joining me back in my room.

For a moment, I think my brain forgot how to tell my lungs to breathe. She looked so cute standing there in my old Bugs Bunny T-shirt, with her short blonde hair a little mussed, barefoot on the tile with the biggest smile on her face.

"You like Bugs Bunny, I would guess?"

"Well, if you couldn't tell from the figurine in my car…" I chuckled, and reached out to ruffle her hair a bit, drawing back quickly when she flinched, expecting to be hit. My laughter immediately stopped at that reaction.

"Mary Jane, I want you to listen to me very carefully," I said, my voice low and serious. Looking her right in the eye, I swore, "As long as you're in this house, and as long as I'm with you, you never have to worry about being hit, okay? You are safe here, and I will do my best to keep you safe no matter where we are. Can you do that for me? Can you trust me, MJ?"

Whether it was the promise shining in my eyes, or the nickname, a small smile graced her lips and she nodded. "I do trust you, Bailey," she confirmed.

I smiled, and gave her a strong hug. "Good. I'll see you in the morning, then. If you need anything, anything at all, I'll be out on the couch, all right? Don't hesitate to wake me… even if you just need to talk," I added, making sure she knew that I was there for her, no matter what.

"Thank you, Bailey. Good night," she sighed, and I waited to make sure that she was comfortable before turning off the light.

"Sleep well," I murmured, more to myself, as I walked down the hallway. Grabbing a pillow off the back of the couch, I fluffed it up, and drew a light blanket over my body. I'd changed into my boxers and shirt as Mary Jane was changing in the bathroom, so I wouldn't be too warm.

Hoping that I'd done the right thing, and that my friend would finally have a peaceful night for once, I fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * * * *

I was awakened the next morning by my dad shaking my shoulder.

"What?" I groaned.

"Why are you sleeping on the couch, Bailey?" he asked.

I cracked an eye open and looked at him as if it was obvious. "Because my friend is sleeping in my bed," I stated, and was ready to go back to sleep, noting that it was only four in the morning.

"No, I just came from your room, to check on you. Your bed is made, Bailey… there's no one in your room."

I was off the couch and on my feet in a fraction of a second, racing down the hallway to my room. "Mary Jane!" I called, but my dad was right… if I wouldn't have seen my Bugs Bunny T-shirt draped over the foot of my bed, I never would have believed I'd have had a guest over.

My only question was: Where was she now?

Part 2

CHAPTER SEVEN

At first, I was hurt. I thought I had made it clear that she could come talk to me, about anything, and for any reason. Why had she decided leaving was a better option? Here I was, hoping our friendship was growing stronger, only to have my hopes shattered by the sight of an empty bed.

It was then that I noticed the note on the bed. There, tucked under my pillow, was a piece of paper, with handwriting that I recognized. Reading it to myself, I could scarcely believe what my blue eyes were taking in. The letter read:

Bailey,

I am so sorry for causing trouble. I know you offered me your bed to sleep in, but I just couldn't accept… I shouldn't have said yes. You will never know how much the offer means to me, but I can't drag you into this… this nightmare.

You say you want to protect me, and keep me safe. If that's true, then, please, Bailey, try to understand why I had to leave. My brother would be angry if he found out his keys were gone, and so was I, and he'd be even more upset if he found out where I was and who I was staying with. If I were to call my parents like you'd said, he would have known from them where I'd gone, and you'd be involved in a dangerous situation. I can't do that to you.

I don't know how to thank you for all you've done… again, I'm sorry for doing this to you. I understand if you don't want to be friends anymore…

MJ

That was it. That was all it took to send me crashing to my knees on my bedroom floor. How…? How could it be that she didn't want to be friends? That took the air right out of my lungs. Had I done the wrong thing by inviting her? Did she think I'd be angry with her for leaving without really saying goodbye? What was going through her mind when she wrote that line?

All that speculating made my head hurt, so I decided to take a long shower, since there was nothing I could do about Mary Jane at that point. She was gone, that's all there was to it. Stepping under the warm spray, I tilted my head and let the droplets pound against my face, the normally relaxing sensation doing nothing to ease my worry.

I was in there for almost an hour, before my dad knocked on the door to check on me, and I reluctantly turned off the flow of water and grabbed a towel. Wrapping it around my body, I walked numbly into my bedroom, my hair dripping down the hall as I went. I dressed slowly, and reread Mary Jane's note a dozen times.

Nightmare… angry… dangerous situation… don't want to be friends… Those words kept popping out at me. She was calling her life a nightmare, telling me she was constantly living in a dangerous situation… that didn't help my concern any. And then to say she knew her brother would be angry when he found out what she'd done… hell, she'd gone right back home to the bastard!

But the last line is the one that really got to me. Kissing my dad on the cheek quickly before I left, not giving him time to ask any questions, I stopped at the local Denny's for breakfast before continuing on to school, intent on finding my friend and demanding an explanation.

* * * * *

As the bell rang, signaling the end of fourth period and the beginning of second lunch, I headed for Mr. Newton's room, hoping to intercept Mary Jane on her way outside.

No luck.

Poking my head in the room, I was in time to see Mr. Newton packing up his things to run out for a bite to eat, but no one else was left in the class.

"Was Mary Jane here today?" I asked, praying she wasn't absent.

The man nodded. "Yes, she just left for lunch," he told me, and I was about to turn around and head for the lunch area, when he continued with, "I haven't seen you lately, Miss Smith. I must say you dropped my class rather suddenly, but I do hope you're enjoying Mrs. Ender's class.

"I know we've had our conflicts, but let me know if you're interested in rejoining the class," he offered, and before I could pick up my jaw and ask the millions of questions that were running through my brain, he was gone.

I was dumbfounded. Mr. Newton was under the impression that I'd dropped the class? That meant he hadn't made a complaint about me to Mr. Heath! The principal kicked me out of the class all on his own; that was why he didn't want me discussing it with my counselor.

While that was a very interesting twist in and of itself, I was concentrating more on finding out what had happened with Mary Jane at the moment, and was trying to find her, when Andrew Turnkey stood in my line of sight and refused to move.

I sighed. "What do you want, Andrew?"

He grinned easily. "I want you to make good on your deal, Bailey. I want a date with your little friend," he insisted, and I could have knocked his block off right then and there for the little sneer he accompanied at the end of his statement.

You can't have her because I want her, I thought, but was able to stop it from becoming real words.

"We never had any deal, Andrew, and you're not going out with Mary Jane."

"Who says I'm not?" he demanded, shoving me in the shoulder.

I growled at him. "I do. I wouldn't set you up with any of my friends, Turnkey, because I happen to like them. I wouldn't submit them to such torture," I snorted, and turned to walk away, only to have him push me forward.

"Watch that step, Bailey!" he cried, laughing as I managed to catch myself before I fell… barely.

I shot him a look over my shoulder. "Watch your back, Andrew," I replied, evenly, and left the irritating little boy behind, making my way out the door, where I saw my friend sitting under her usual tree.

She looked down as soon she noticed me approaching.

Crouching down in front of her, I took a deep breath, and counted to ten. Then I counted to ten again. Then I gently lifted her chin with my hand until she was nervously looking me in the eye.

"Mary Jane, please tell me why you left," I requested, in my quietest voice.

"I had to."

"Why? Why didn't you come and talk to me? I thought you trusted me, MJ… Jesus Christ, you had me scared to death," I admitted, still focusing on not raising my voice. "I didn't know what happened to you before I found the note… I thought your brother had come for you or something!"

"He would have," she said.

I frowned. "I don't care. I promised you that while you were with me, and most certainly while you were in my house, I would keep you safe," I reminded her. "Didn't you believe me?"

"I believe you would have done your best to protect me," the blonde replied, and I nodded. "But, Bailey, you don't understand…! I don't want to put you in a position where you might get hurt trying to keep me safe. Please, I'm sorry I left like that, but I knew Damon would be home soon, and I didn't want him to find me gone."

I was silent for a moment… that was the first time she'd mentioned his name, and it startled me at first. When I recovered my wits, I asked, "What time did you leave?"

"About one-thirty… I… I couldn't get to sleep."

"Was he angry with you?" I hadn't noticed any new marks on her face or arms, but that didn't mean he hadn't hit her.

She shook her head. "I got home before he did, and he thought I walked… he just passed out on the couch," Mary Jane explained. "I put his keys back in his pocket while he was sleeping, so maybe he'll think he was so drunk he just couldn't find them."

"How did you get home?"

"I took the bus… I still had a little bit of money left, and I was the only passenger," she sighed. "The driver let me pay half because it was so late and he said I looked like I was in a hurry… I barely got upstairs before Damon came home."

I had to give her credit for being smart, but that didn't take away from the fact that she had scared the living daylights out of me. And I was still worried about that final sentence of her letter…

"Mary Jane, I… I need to ask you something."

She glanced up at me, alert and on edge. I think it was the first time she'd ever heard me stumble over a word. "What?"

"In your letter to me, you said something about not wanting to be friends…" I swallowed hard. "I need to know what you meant."

My friend nodded, as if she had been expecting that. "I'll understand if you're angry with me for leaving like I did… I shouldn't have done that."

"That's not enough for me to break up our friendship," I assured her.

"But, my brother…"

"Is a royal pain in the ass who will get what he deserves some day," hopefully by my own two hands, I added, silently. "But that's not enough for me to break up our friendship," I repeated.

"I left without telling you…"

I had to admit she had a point there, and I nodded. "Yes, that hurt," I confessed. "I wish you would have told me what was going on, and I feel like you didn't trust me. If anything, that's reason enough for me to try doubly hard for you to place your trust in me," I urged. "Please, MJ, don't give up. I don't want to lose your friendship."

An idea hit me. "Unless, you want to…"

She cut me off quickly. "No! No, Bailey, I like being friends with you… and I do trust you. I just think it will take me some time… I'm not used to having anyone around that I feel that way about," she said, and I agreed.

"You can have as much time as you need, MJ. I'll be here waiting whenever you're ready," I promised, and enveloped her in a strong hug, finally moving from my former position of crouched down in front of her when my ankles began to tingle, and sitting down beside her. Withdrawing a sandwich from my bag, I offered it to her, and we ate in a comfortable silence, just like we had many times before.

It felt nice to have that comfort level once more; all was well, as far as I was concerned. The world could come crashing down from all four corners, ending up in a pile of burning ash, and I wouldn't care. Mary Jane and I were still friends, and she would do her best to trust me and talk to me. Nothing else mattered.

* * * * *

I got to work a little early that day, and decided to jump on the chance to talk to Tina for a while, since she'd already closed down her lane. It was a fairly slow day, thankfully, but I suspected it would pick up around five or six.

Anyway, Tina and I chatted for a little bit, and then she happened to mention, "Hey, you know, my birthday is next Saturday."

I grinned. "I knew that."

"Sure you did, Hot Stuff. Anyhow, I'm having a party -"

"What time?" I interrupted. "'Cause I've got my Karate tournament in the afternoon."

She nodded. "Of course you do, Bailey. Did you think I'd miss one of your Kung Fu fights?" she laughed.

"Karate."

"Yeah, yeah," she chuckled, waving me off, but I knew she was just teasing. She hadn't missed a match since I started eight years ago. "Anyhow, like I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, I'm having a party Saturday night.

"Now, I know I'm turning eighteen and all that, but there'll be no alcohol or drugs, 'cause I don't do that sort of thing, and most of my friends, like you, are underage anyhow. I figure it'll start around seven.

"So, it won't mess up your precious schedule, oh high and mighty black belt."

I rolled my eyes, and gave her a mock shove.

"You're welcome to come," she added, as an afterthought.

I raised an eyebrow at her. "As if not being invited would ever stop me from crashing one of your shindigs, Tina?" I snorted, lightly. "I'll be there," I promised, as I turned to open up my lane.

"Oh, you can bring your friend, too," Tina noted, and I paused.

"Mary Jane?" I clarified, and she nodded, snapping her fingers as an imaginary light bulb came on above her head.

"Yeah, her. If she can go, I mean. I'd like to get the chance to meet the young lady Bailey Smith has finally fallen for," she smirked, dramatically, and I narrowed my eyes at her.

Pointing a finger in her direction, I warned, "Don't you say one word to her, Tina. She doesn't know how I feel about her, and if she finds out, it'll be your head I remove. Slowly."

Solemnly, she crossed her heart. "Promise, not a single, solitary word," she swore, before kissing my cheek and rushing out the door.

"Now, why don't I like that look on her face?" I mumbled to myself, as I flipped the switch and turned the light on for lane six, beginning my work promptly at four.

* * * * *

The week passed by rather quickly. I tried to find some time to speak to Mr. Heath about what Mr. Newton had said, but two things stopped me. First, I wanted to spend my free time with Mary Jane, not waiting in the principal's office, and second, I didn't know exactly what to say. I mean, it's not as if I could just march into his office and declare him a liar… well, I could, I just chose not to.

So, with no further interruptions of any kind, unless you count the dirty looks Andrew kept shooting in my direction, the Friday before Tina's party arrived. Lunchtime found Mary Jane and I outside under the same tree, sitting side by side as she munched on the second ham, turkey, and cheese sandwich I'd brought. It had been a good day, and both of us were in an exceptionally good mood, because Damon was scheduled to be out of town all weekend.

"Bailey?" questioned Mary Jane, grabbing my attention easily with her gentle voice.

"Hm?"

"What do you do at your Karate tournament?" The blonde had agreed to not only go with me to Tina's party, which took some convincing on my part to assure her it would be nothing like the last party she'd attended, but also to watch my tournament. She planned to stay the night Friday and Saturday, and already had her bag in the back of my Explorer, having promised me three times she wouldn't leave in the middle of the night.

Now, it seemed, she was curious about what to expect on Saturday afternoon.

I took a moment to think about it. "Well," I began, "there are a lot of different areas that are open, but I've signed up for the expert sparring and individual specialty kata." Seeing her blank look, I chuckled, and explained, "Basically that means I'll be going up against other students in hand-to-hand sparring, and also get the chance to do a few exercises with a weapon of my choice. I normally use my staff."

"You have to fight with someone?" she exclaimed, her green eyes wide.

The worry that I saw in her gaze, even if it was only in my head, warmed my heart.

"Hopefully with several people, if I advance like I hope I will," I confirmed. The panic in her gaze didn't lessen, so I continued, "Most of the levels wear gloves with some padding over the knuckles, but at the highest skill level, we're supposed to have enough control to pull our punches.

"Now, it is possible for the participants to get hurt, and I've even been bruised a few times, but it doesn't happen very often, and there are no head shots allowed," I assured her. "Plus, the idea is to block any blow. If we can't stop our opponent's move in the ring, than we won't be able to do it in a real fight, and we deserve to be reprimanded a little bit."

Turning to a little better aspect of the tournament, I said, "Both my dad and Tina will be there, so you'll be able to meet them. I don't think either of them has ever missed one of my matches. Tina even tried to make my promotions, if she can."

"She sounds very nice," she commented, and I nodded.

"Yeah, we've been friends since I was about two, I think. I'm sure you two will get along great," I predicted, with a grin. Nothing much was said after that, but I think she was a little nervous about the idea of meeting my dad and Tina. I couldn't figure out why, though.

Thankfully, the rest of the day went by amazingly fast, and before I knew it, I was meeting Mary Jane at the front steps of the school again. We walked to my car in silence, and as soon as we were buckled up, I had to ask.

"Mary Jane, what's wrong?"

She looked down at my dusty floorboard. "Nothing," she replied, and I sighed.

Taking a stab at what was bothering her, I said, "You don't have to worry about my dad or Tina, I promise. There is no doubt in my mind that you'll get along just fine with both of them."

"But… I don't have a gift for Tina."

I smiled at her concern. "MJ," dear God the word 'sweetheart' almost slipped out instead! "Tina isn't expecting a gift from you. In fact, there have been years when I haven't been able to get her anything but a card, and that's fine. Besides, she doesn't know you yet - I wouldn't worry about it too much."

Seeing the pensive look still on her face, I added, "But, if you really want to, you can make her a card on the computer when we get home, all right?" She seemed a bit happier by that suggestion, and there was quiet again for a while, until just before we turned the corner to my block.

"Do they know?" she questioned, and I paused.

"You mean about your brother?" She nodded, and I sighed. "Well, my dad really has no clue who you are at all. But, Tina… she's my best friend and I've known her for more than half my life." I was suddenly afraid Mary Jane would be upset with me for saying anything. "I tell her practically everything, MJ, but she doesn't know everything about the situation… I've only told her a little bit. I trust her, but I won't say anything anymore if you don't want," I assured her.

My friend shook her head. "If you trust her, Bailey… I just don't want everybody to know, you know?" she asked, her voice small, and I reached over to quickly squeeze her hand.

"I understand. So, since I'm off work today, what do you want to do?" I questioned with a grin, and she gave me a look that made me wonder if I'd grown another eye in the middle of my forehead or something. "What?"

"Nothing, it's just that no one's ever asked me that before."

I smiled. "Now they have. And it's up to you, MJ. What do you want to do today?"

We ended up walking over to the park and playing ball with Soda. He loved the chance to run and jump after his favorite tennis ball, and Mary Jane didn't seem to mind throwing a ball covered in dog slobber, so they were happy. As for me, I was content just to sit on the bench and allow the small blonde to lose herself in Soda's excitement for a few hours. The very tips of my fingers tingled at the sound of Mary Jane's laughter when Soda jumped straight up in the air to catch the toy… it was a wonderful sound that went straight to the center of my heart.

I vowed to myself to do whatever it took to hear that delightful noise a lot more often.

With a tired but happy sigh, she flopped down beside me, bringing me out of my thoughts. "He's got a lot of energy!" she exclaimed.

I chuckled, and scratched behind his ears when the object of our discussion came near. "Yeah, he's still pretty much a puppy," I agreed. "It'll be dark soon. We should probably head back," I commented, and Mary Jane stood without hesitation.

"Okay. Thank you for doing this, Bailey. I didn't mean to keep you, and I'm sure you have other things to do -"

Holding up my hand, I stopped her before she could continue. "No, Mary Jane," I said, softly. "I told you it was up to you, remember? If light wasn't a problem, we could stay out here until you wore out my dog," I grinned, trying to lighten the mood. "Please, don't be sorry for relaxing and having fun."

Mary Jane gave me a half smile. "Thanks, Bailey. I guess I'm just not used to having this kind of a day without restrictions," she admitted, and I wrapped my arm around her shoulders as we walked back towards my house, Soda right beside the young blonde artist.

"Do you remember the promise I made to you last week?" She nodded, sure I was going to withdraw it, I'd guess, by the way she flinched. I was quick to put her fears at rest. "Well, now I'm extending it to letting you relax. As long as you're in my home, or around me, you don't have to worry about getting in trouble for staying out late or for wanting to take some time out for yourself, okay? Anything you want to do, you can do it."

She put her arm around my waist in a hug that made my heart pause for a moment. "You really don't know what that means to me," Mary Jane murmured, more or less into my shoulder, and a crooked smile came to my face as I got a whiff of her shampoo. Peaches… whatever she used smelled like peaches. I had to mentally restrain myself from burying my face in the short blonde locks, as I suddenly gained a new appreciation for fruit.

Nothing more was said on the way, but that was okay. Her arm stayed around my waist until we were a block away, and I got the feeling she was nervous again. Even Soda must have sensed her apprehension, because he gently licked her hand, nudging her for a pat on his head.

"It'll be fine, MJ. Trust me," I whispered into her ear, as I opened the door and we stepped inside. Not seeing my dad anywhere, I motioned for Mary Jane to stay put while I looked in the garage, where I found him under the hood of his truck. Not surprising, considering he'd had his stitches taken out two days before, and was anxious to get back to work.

"Dad," I called, and he started, almost hitting his head on the hood.

"Bailey Joanne, don't do that to me!" he scolded, turning to face me, and I grinned a little as I shrugged. "Now, what do you want?"

"I want you to meet my friend." He stared at me, blankly. I rolled my eyes. "Dad, I told you Mary Jane was spending the night, and going with me to Tina's party after the match tomorrow. Remember?"

To my relief, he nodded. "Oh, yeah. That's right. Okay, well, let me wash up real quick. I'll say hi and then start dinner, how does that sound?" he offered.

I smiled. "Sounds great, Dad, thanks. See you in a bit."

As my dad went inside to wash the grease off his hands, I followed, intent on finding Mary Jane, since she was not where I'd left her. Hearing a rapid clicking noise, I entered the living room and found her typing away at the computer, apparently working on the card for Tina that I'd forgotten she wanted to make. It was absolutely unbelievable - her hands were a blur! I'd never seen anyone type so quickly.

"What 'cha up to?" I asked, casually, walking up beside her.

She leapt out of her chair like it was on fire, turning to face me with emerald eyes wider than I'd ever seen, an emotion much like fear radiating from their depths. "I - I'm sorry! I wasn't thinking, and I didn't do what you told me! I'm sorry, I know I'm inconsiderate and disobedient, and all I do is cause trouble, but…"

Her voice trailed off when I put a finger over her lips. I was startled enough by her sudden onslaught of apologies that my hands were shaking a little. "Mary Jane, stop. Stop right there," I told her, firm, and yet my voice was quiet. "It's me; it's Bailey, remember? You don't have to apologize for anything. You're safe here, and no one will hurt you for doing something on your own. Okay?"

Tears of what I assumed was embarrassment at her reaction spilled over and the blonde nodded, readily folding into my arms as I held her close.

"Hey, it's all right," I soothed, lightly rubbing her back. Pulling away a little, to look her in the eye, I continued, "You are not inconsiderate, MJ. You didn't disobey anything and you most certainly do not cause trouble. I don't like hearing you talk about yourself like that… you're none of those things, Mary Jane. You're great with computers, I'm sure you're a very talented artist, and I am proud to call you my friend," I told her, honestly, adding to myself, I'd be even happier to call you my girlfriend, but we won't go there just yet.

"I want you to promise me that if you start thinking like that again, or if someone tells you anything like that, you'll call me. I don't care what time it is; it can be four o'clock in the afternoon or three in the morning, all right? I want you to call me, because no one should have the right to make you think less of yourself," I explained, and she bit her lip as she looked up at me.

"Really?"

I nodded. "Really. So, do I have your promise, MJ? Any more degrading comments, and you'll call me?" I persisted, and my friend nodded.

"I'll try," she agreed, and I pulled her into one last tight hug.

"I can't ask you to do anything more than that, Mary Jane. Now," I sighed, when it became apparent to me that I was enjoying our close proximity way too much, "if my sense of smell is correct, and it hasn't failed me yet, dad has dinner cooking. Come on."

With that, we made our way into the kitchen, my hand discovering a mind of its own and lightly resting in the small of Mary Jane's back for a few moments. I swear, I don't know how it got there. If I'm lying, may lightning strike me dead where I stand… excuse me while I duck for the time being and make sure the lightning rod is in place.

Dinner came and went without a hitch, I'm pleased to say. My dad seemed to take a liking to Mary Jane, even if she was kind of quiet throughout the meal, and the small blonde didn't seem as nervous as I'd expected her to be. She even chatted a bit, shyly accepting my father's request that she call him "Darryl" instead of "Mr. Smith".

"I'll clean up here, Dad. You go to bed," I told him, since whatever bug he'd had the week before seemed to have come back full force. He'd been coughing for the past few days, and it had steadily gotten worse.

With a sigh, he nodded, kissing me on the cheek as he bid Mary Jane and I both a good night. "Sleep well, girls. I'll see you in the morning," he smiled, nodding to my friend. When the door to his bedroom was tightly shut, I turned towards the kitchen, and began clearing the table, surprised to have Mary Jane standing idly beside me, obviously waiting for something.

"What is it, MJ?" I asked, bringing the dirty dishes to the sink, so I could rinse them off before placing them in the dishwasher. We'd eaten boneless chicken breasts, rice, and vegetables, and while it was delicious, it made for a lengthy clean up.

"What can I do to help?"

I grinned. "Sit."

Startled green eyes glanced up at me. "What?" she questioned, frowning a little in confusion; I'll be the first to admit that I found the slight wrinkling of her nose to be especially cute.

"If you want to help, you can sit down and relax," I elaborated.

"Bailey…" she began, but I shook my head.

"Come on, MJ, humor me," I requested, gently. "I don't want you to have to do anything. I get the feeling you do enough at home. Give me the chance to take the burden from your shoulders for a little while, please?"

Taking a deep breath, apparently as surprised by my own words as myself, the blonde nodded. "Okay, Bailey," she agreed. "Thank you. Can I… I'll be on the couch in the living room, if you need me?" It was phrased more as a question, but I'd noticed the way she'd gone from an outright appeal to a tentative statement, and that pleased me. It meant that, at least, she was beginning to try to accept the fact that she was allowed to have her own mind when she was around me. That was what I was hoping for.

I smiled, and nodded. "Sure." Gracing me with a half-smile more beautiful than any my blue eyes had ever seen, she slowly walked into the living room and out of my sight, causing me to inhale quickly when I realized I'd lost my breath. God, she was gorgeous! My small blonde friend had a sexy sashay going on that I'd bet she never even knew she had… but it was enough to make me light-headed for a moment.

"I have got to learn to get a grip!" I scolded myself softly, still so distracted by the very nice picture that stuck in my mind's eye that I ran smack-dab into the refrigerator as I turned around. Shaking my head, I concentrated on clearing the table and filling the dishwasher, managing not to kill myself as I wandered through the kitchen with dirty knives in my hand. Like my dad said, it was an absolute miracle that my clumsiness hadn't been the cause of my own demise as of yet… yeah, he was the optimistic one.

When the kitchen was spotless again, I wandered out into the living room, panic seizing my heart when I didn't see Mary Jane's head over the back of the couch.

Did she leave? Oh, God, tell me she didn't leave! I prayed earnestly, rounding the corner so I could get a better view of the area, only to stop in my tracks. There, curled up on the couch with Soda by her feet, was Mary Jane, sound asleep. The day's events had worn her out, and I was unable to hide my crooked smile as I gently removed her shoes and placed them on the floor, covering her with a light sheet.

Soda glanced up at me as I moved around, and I held my finger to my lips. "Shh…" I urged my dog, whispering low. "Don't wake her up, Sodapop. Let the sleeping beauty rest, okay?" Licking his chops, he offered me a soft snort, and laid his head back down by the young woman's calf.

"Sweet dreams, MJ," I murmured, my heart beating faster as I felt myself leaning closer, placing a soft kiss on her forehead before I could do anything about it. With a sigh of relief, when she didn't wake up, I wandered down the hall into my own bedroom, asleep just as quickly as the blonde in the other room.

* * * * *

I woke up early the next morning, earlier than usual, and quickly changed into my gi. Barefoot, I stepped out of the house and into the crisp four o'clock morning air, standing in the driveway to practice. I always went through a few routines the morning before a tournament - it was like tradition or something.

I don't know how long I was out there, but I was in the middle of doing a kata I'd learned as a blue belt, when I happened to open my eyes. I normally moved with my eyes closed, feeling the flow of the energy in my veins and picturing the attack I was blocking in my mind, but when my eyes focused for a moment, I found Mary Jane watching me, sitting on the front step, the door slightly ajar.

I faltered, I'm afraid to admit, and instantly came to a close. Placing my heels together, I bowed to my imaginary opponent, and walked over beside the small blonde, who was still wearing my Bugs Bunny shirt.

"Good morning," I smiled.

"I didn't mean to interrupt."

I shrugged, and checked my watch. "Nah, I've been at this for more than an hour; it was time for me to take a break for a minute, anyhow," I assured her. "What are you doing up so early?"

She glanced up at me. "I'm used to getting up about this time," she said, and I kept quiet for the time being, choosing not to push as to why.

"Did you sleep well?"

Mary Jane nodded. "Yes, thank you. What about you?" she questioned.

"Pretty good. Well, I don't know about you, but I'm hungry. I'll make breakfast so Dad can sleep in a little while longer. That is, if you don't mind eating my cooking," I grinned, and the blonde gave me a small smile.

"That'll be fine." I was looking forward to the day when Mary Jane would actually be able to return my light teasing; I knew I'd never forget it. To have her accept everything I said without question kind of bothered me… I wanted us to be able to banter back and forth without her worrying about getting into trouble… but I realized that would take time.

I would wait. For however long it took, I would wait.

I made pancakes and hash browns for my dad and Mary Jane, having taken about twenty minutes to convince her that it was no trouble for me to fix something different than what I was eating, since I chose to have oatmeal for breakfast. I wanted something that would last, but wouldn't be too heavy on my stomach for the tournament.

I received praises from both my father and my friend on my cooking, Darryl joining us in the kitchen just as it was ready. He looked a little better than the night before, and swallowed about two glasses of orange juice in an attempt to get some vitamins in his body.

When I was sure my dad was feeling well enough to go to the tournament, I climbed into my Explorer, deciding to let my dad drive while I sat in the passenger seat. I considered allowing Mary Jane to call shotgun, but decided against it, when I realized she probably wouldn't feel comfortable sitting next to my dad for the entire ride.

With that settled, we all buckled in, and we were on our way to the gym of a local high school, which would serve as the dojo, in which I would have one of my most memorable matches ever.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The drive seemed to be even shorter this time around, probably because I was a little more nervous than usual. Having my dad or Tina around watching me wasn't a problem, but knowing that the woman I truly cared about would have her eyes on me was enough to make my palms sweat. You'd think after eight years I'd be used to the feeling of being watched at a match, but this was different.

Stepping out of the passenger side, I opened the door for Mary Jane, and then reached in to retrieve my staff. It was probably about an inch or so in diameter, and when I set it on the ground, it came up to just above my shoulder. The thick wood was worn and scarred, but it fit well in my hands, and, having had it for five years, I could wield the weapon with deadly accuracy if it was necessary.

"Wow." Mary Jane's quiet voice pulled me from my musings, and I found her green eyes staring at all the white-clad Karate students making their way into the gym, various colored belts adorning their uniforms. I spied only a few brown belts like myself, but the majority of them were all white or yellow - the first two ranks. I assumed this was probably their first tournament, and could only imagine how their knees were shaking.

"What do the white ones mean?" she asked, and I was all too willing to explain it to her if she was interested.

"The ranks go like this: white, yellow, green, blue, purple, brown, and then black. At least, in my dojo," I added, knowing that a few orange belts might be seen. If I'm not mistaken, that was something equivalent to about the yellow belt I was familiar with, though the meanings varied between different schools.

She glanced up at me, very quickly taking in the color I wore around my waist. "So, you're almost a black belt?" she questioned, and I nodded. "Wow," she said again, and I grinned.

"Come on," I urged her, seeing my dad make his way inside. "There's no way I can compete standing out in the parking lot. Well, I could, but I don't think the judges would appreciate it."

Mary Jane just smiled, and I was very glad she didn't think she had to apologize for making me stand out there with her while she asked about the tournament, and we walked inside.

There, numerous mats were set up, probably no less than two dozen, I'd say. Two judges sat in chairs at opposite corners of each one, with another judge, who served more as a referee of sorts sitting in the middle. The bleachers were already beginning to be filled with family and friends of the participants, and, for a moment, I was afraid my dad and Mary Jane wouldn't be able to find a good seat.

Then I happened to spot Sensei Moorland near the front row - she was speaking with Tina, which didn't surprise me, since my teacher and my friend had gotten to know each other rather well in the past eight years.

Calling to her, we bowed to one another as she approached, and then I made the introductions.

"Sensei, this is my good friend, Mary Jane. Mary Jane, this is my teacher, Nancy Moorland," I said, and the two shook hands, Sensei Moorland smiling warmly at the small blonde by my side.

"It's very nice to meet you, Mary Jane."

Mary Jane gave her a polite smile. "And you, Ms. Moorland."

My teacher let out a loud chuckle. "Call me Nancy, please. The only time anyone uses my last name is usually when they're one of my students," she explained, and I could tell Mary Jane was swallowing an apology.

"Thank you, Nancy," she said, and I gently squeezed her shoulder.

"Well, I need to get going. The individual specialty katas have been moved to the last event, by the way," Sensei Moorland informed me, and I nodded, pleased. That gave me more time to practice, whether between events or before the sparring.

"Good luck to you, Bailey, though I know you won't need it," she grinned. "It looks like Tina saved you both a seat, so you should be able to see the events just fine." With that, she shook my dad's hand, bowed quickly in my direction, and made her way to the judge's registration table.

"You guys can go ahead and grab the seats with Tina," I told them. "I'm going to go warm up for a few minutes before the first round starts." They both nodded, and then walked over to where Tina was frantically waving, my dad introducing Mary Jane and Tina. I could tell right away that Tina liked her; just by the way she warmly gripped the blonde's hand.

Finding an open spot on a mat not far away, I found an imaginary starting line, and placed my heels against it. Bowing to my non-existent opponent, I went through a quick exercise, pleased when my heels ended up in the same place they started - that meant I had done the moves correctly. It was easy to overstep in practice, but the fact that I had learned it well enough to do it flawlessly made me very happy.

I had just finished when a man's voice came over the speakers, announcing that the beginner's level sparring was about to start in one area, while the intermediate and expert levels would begin in another. Seeing several brown and black belts migrating towards the judges that sat at table eleven, I followed, and obediently sat down at the edge of the mat while the first two were called.

I watched the match with interest - both were good, but I could pick out several flaws with each of them. I knew which was more experienced, and I could tell the other one was letting his nerves get the best of him.

A few minutes later, the one I branded as more experienced was declared the winner, and they bowed to each other, even going so far as to shake hands, before the challenger took his place on the floor. I was glad to see the good sportsmanship that accompanied most tournaments held true.

"Bailey Smith." I was up next. Getting to my feet, I bowed quickly before stepping onto the cushioned blue mat, and then stood in front of the champion. He was a little smaller than me, maybe 5'7'' I'd guess, with blonde hair in a buzz cut and excited brown eyes.

"Face me and bow," said the judge, and we turned, doing as we were told. "Face each other, and bow." We obeyed. "No head shots allowed, anyone caught doing so, or attempting to do so, will be disqualified. First one to three points wins. Ready. Begin."

My opponent was quick to make the first move, and struck out with his fist, but I easily dodged the punch and followed through with a light elbow in his side. The man who acted as a referee instantly called us back to the starting line, waving his arm in my direction, telling me I had gained one point. A flag went up, as the judge sitting in my corner acknowledged a point in my favor for the entire crowd to see.

"Bow," the judge commanded. "Ready. Begin," he continued, stepping back out of our way. This time the guy kept his guard up, circling me for a while, before I had to remind myself this was not a boxing match. Going for a punch that I knew would be blocked, I took the opportunity to swing around and sweep his feet out from under him, swiftly kneeling beside him, my hand coming to rest lightly on his chest.

"Point, Smith." The flag on my side went up again, and a few claps were heard. Called back again, I could see the determination in the blonde kid's eyes… he didn't want to lose. The first win had made him cocky and proud, and he didn't want to lose face on only the second match.

I didn't really feel bad at all about gaining my third point immediately. He wasn't even expecting the sidekick, the word "Begin" had barely left the judge's mouth when I brought my foot off the ground, and I hoped that would teach him to be more aware.

"Point and match, Smith," announced the white-clad judge with a red belt, marking him as a grand master, and a purple ribbon pronouncing him a judge. "Face me, and bow. Face each other, and bow." We obeyed, and I watched the young man swallow his pride as he reached for my hand. I gladly shook it, and gave him an approving nod of my head, acknowledging his effort.

The next four matches went quickly, and fairly effortlessly on my part. One of my opponents got up to one point, but that was it, before I came up with a combination that got me the final point.

Before I knew it, I was facing my final partner, and I recognized him from previous tournaments - his name was Timothy Davis, and he was the same rank I was; a three-striped brown belt, but he had actually been in longer. His dojo had a rule about not becoming a black belt until the student turned eighteen - he'd been a brown belt for three years, or so I'd heard.

Seventeen and about an inch taller than me, he had broad shoulders, and his large gi did nothing to hide the muscles in his torso. There was no question about it - my final round would not be easy.

As we bowed to each other, I noticed a small smirk on his face. He was confident about his own abilities, and the fact that he had watched me for five rounds made me uneasy. He'd had time to study me and the tendencies I might have had, ones I didn't even notice. That wasn't good, seeing as it gave him an extra edge, and I didn't need that against me.

Given the order to begin, I immediately slid my left foot forward a few inches, turning my toes in slightly to form a balanced and strong stance. Bringing my right hand close to my chest and my left hand out in front of me a little further, I was ready to defend myself.

I didn't even have time to blink before Timothy became a flurry of motion. He went through one combination after another, and it wasn't twenty seconds later that the judge was announcing the first point - Davis.

Damn it, I thought, and concentrated harder on watching his moves. I gained the next two points by blocking his attempts, and following through with a quick jab or kick of my own. If we were doing it right, whenever we punched or kicked, the snap of our clothing should have been apparent. As it was, both of us were performing up to par.

A quick glance to Mary Jane, which I shouldn't have done because it revealed that she was watching me with frightened green eyes, and Davis was able to touch my exposed ribs with his foot. Now the score was tied.

Taking a deep and calming breath, I forced myself to think only about the match. Mary Jane would have to wait until later. My dad and Tina would both have to wait until later. The only thing that mattered to me at the moment was my opponent - that was how it had to be. If I got distracted I would lose, it was as simple as that.

"Ready. Begin." I blocked a punch-kick combination, and followed with one of my own, but Timothy didn't let me get through. About a minute passed, neither of us gaining the winning point, and I noticed that his eyes kept watching my right hand… the one closest to my body. I couldn't figure it out. Either he was planning to make a move, which would be stupid considering he'd have to make it past my left hand first, or he realized I led with my right hand more often… no matter what, it spelled trouble.

Shifting his weight, he brought his right foot up into an arc, aimed straight for my head. I was startled, but reacted quickly, and his kick hit my forearm instead of my head.

"Stop!" cried the judge, and I pushed the blonde's foot away from me with a growl. "Warning, Davis. No point. Another move like that and you're disqualified, young man. Ready, begin."

I couldn't understand why he wasn't disqualified right off the bat, but it didn't bother me too much. After all, I didn't want to win by default. I wanted to win because I'd earned it, not because some punk decided to get a little over zealous.

Seeing him try for the kick again, I was ready this time, and grabbed his ankle. Pushing upwards, I forced him onto his back with a thud, and quickly jabbed at his middle, my sleeve snapping with the speed.

"He-yah!" As soon as the move was done, I came back to my defensive position, keeping an eye on him, although I'd already won. The judge in my corner with the flag had seen to that.

"Point, Smith. Match, Smith. Event, Smith. Congratulations," smiled the judge, shaking my hand, after respectfully bowing. I repeated the gesture, and grinned as I bowed to the judge in my corner, and the panel sitting up front. There was no dispute as to who had won, so I didn't have to wait for them to delegate an answer, which was good. I had a while to practice with my staff, and to join my friends and family up in the stands if I so chose, until the awards ceremony.

Timothy bowed quickly, but made no attempt at shaking my hand. I watched him storm away from the mat, heading towards a man I recognized as his father, who didn't look too happy at the cheap shots his son had made, not to mention the poor sportsmanship.

"Doc, you were great!" came a voice, and I turned to find myself folded into the arms of my exuberant and very proud father.

"Thanks, Dad," I smiled, and returned the hug.

Tina was next. "Way to go, Hot Stuff!" she squealed, embracing me around the neck until I couldn't breathe.

"Uh, Tina… air, please." Tapping her arm fiercely, she finally released me, and I turned to Mary Jane. She still looked a little upset, though I think I was the only one who noticed it. I assumed it was because she'd seen me fight, and probably went through some similar scenes at home.

Stupid! I cursed myself. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why didn't I think! I shouldn't have brought her here. She gets enough fighting at home… now she had to sit there and watch me go through it. Even if it was just a tournament, I'm sure it scared her to death and brought forth a lot of not so pleasant thoughts. Damn it!

She must have seen the apology in my eyes, because she smiled a little and assured me, "You did great, Bailey."

"Thanks," I grinned, promising to really apologize later.

The rest of the tournament went rather well. I took second with my staff, behind only two points. The guy who won used the sais, a weapon with which I was very familiar, but he did excellent, and I was pleased to place so close to him. After collecting my trophies, I bid goodbye to Tina, who said she had to go get ready for the party. My dad offered to take Mary Jane and I our to lunch to celebrate, and I relented, knowing how much my dad enjoyed doing something together after every tournament.

We stopped at a Denny's, my dad not bothering to let me change out of my gi, and when he excused himself to use the restroom, I jumped on the opportunity to talk to Mary Jane.

"Listen, MJ, I'm sorry. I didn't even take the time to think about how the tournament might affect you," I explained, urgently.

She reached over and touched my hand, instantly silencing my ramblings. Smiling warmly, she simply said, "Thank you for inviting me."

Five words and I knew all was well.

Once lunch was over, and my dad had convinced Mary Jane he wouldn't let her pay for her meal, we returned home so I could change before the party. Coming out of my room in jeans and a T-shirt, I found Mary Jane clutching Tina's card in her hand, apparently ready to go. Telling my dad I wasn't sure exactly what time we'd be home, I kissed his cheek and plucked my gift up from the couch, and walked out with my friend.

Little did I know, Tina wouldn't be the only one receiving a gift that night.

* * * * *

As we arrived at Tina's house, a song came on the radio that Mary Jane must have liked - I caught her softly humming along, and turned it up for her with a grin.

"Why don't you stay out here until the song is over?" I offered, putting my Explorer in park. "Just lock it up and bring the keys in with you," I winked, and the blonde agreed. "Great. I'll see you in a few, then."

My first task was to find Tina. It wasn't too hard - not surprising, my friend with a love for food was in the kitchen stealing snacks from her own food tray.

"Hey, Tina," I greeted, throwing my arm around her shoulders. "Isn't that food supposed to be for us guests?"

"I'm the birthday girl, Bailey, leave me alone! Hey, you brought a gift!" Before she could grab it, I pulled the box away.

With an evil grin, I warned, "I wouldn't open this in front of anyone else."

"Should I be worried?" she asked, taking the present and shaking it.

"Very."

One time when we were hanging out at my house, we were both thirteen, we happened to stumble across a box of condoms. I still don't know how they got there, unless one of my other friends or my dad's friends might have left them behind, but even back then my best friend knew my preference was for women. So, it had been a long-standing joke between us that if Tina ever had a guy over and was in an emergency, she'd ask me for a condom, since I would never need one.

Accordingly for her eighteenth birthday, I'd gotten her a box of condoms. I knew she'd remember the joke, I just thought that perhaps her parents wouldn't find it as amusing, nor would her friends understand.

"Didn't Mary Jane come with you?" she questioned, and I nodded.

"She's in the car."

Suddenly, an idea struck her, and her face visibly brightened. "Oh, Bailey, we're playing Spin the Bottle," Tina smiled, and I glared at her.

"Don't you remember what happened the last time you tried to set me up through that stupid game?"

"How was I supposed to know she was only interested in your car? Anyway, this will work - I mean, you know you like Mary Jane," my conniving friend reasoned.

"That's just it, Tina," I sighed. "I do like Mary Jane. A lot. And I don't want to do anything to mess up our friendship. What if she doesn't feel the same way? I'd never forgive myself if I scared her away," I admitted, but that confession didn't faze my friend a bit. That meant she'd put a lot of thought into this… and that frightened me.

"So you just leave it up to her." I paused, confused. "Make it her decision without totally revealing your feelings."

"How do I do that?"

"Duh, Bailey!" Her hand came up to tap me on the forehead, and I raised an un-amused eyebrow. "Tell her you don't know how to play - we're combining Spin the Bottle with Ten Minutes in Heaven, by the way." I groaned, and Tina laughed. "Come on, Hot Stuff. You said she's gone to parties with her brother, right? I'm sure she knows how to play."

I frowned. "And if she doesn't?" was my skeptical response.

"I'll explain it to everyone before we begin, and you'll just happen to be out of the room."

I wasn't comfortable with the idea of lying to Mary Jane, but if it meant a safe way to find out how she felt, I was game. Remember, I said I didn't like lying, not that I never did it.

"You are an evil, evil woman, Tina," I told the brunette. She smiled brightly, and I broke into a grin. "I love you." Laughing, I gave her a hug, and both of us jumped when a quiet voice called my name.

It was Mary Jane.

Jesus, how long has she been standing there? How much did she hear? my mind panicked. Judging by the look on her face, however, she hadn't heard anything major. It looked like I was still in the clear.

"Here are your keys, Bailey," said Mary Jane. "I locked it."

I smiled. "Thanks. I wasn't worried," I assured her, placing my keys back in my pocket as Tina noticed the card in the blonde's hand.

"Oh, you made me a card!" she squealed, giving the startled girl an enthusiastic hug. "Thank you! I love it!" Mary Jane smiled, pleased her meager gift had been so well received.

"Come on, come on, the games should be starting soon. I'm sure Bailey will introduce you to anyone you don't know," Tina promised Mary Jane, and ushered us into the living room. Glancing around, I saw only a few new faces. I knew most of the guests, but one in particular caught my eye.

Grabbing Tina's arm, I hissed into her ear, "What is he doing here?"

Following my finger, Tina shrugged. "Andrew? I don't know; he's a friend of a friend, I think. Why? What's wrong?" she questioned, frowning at the look on my face.

"If you don't want me to snap his scrawny little neck, you'll make sure he stays as far away from Mary Jane as possible," I growled, and released her so I could join Mary Jane, who was standing awkwardly a few feet away.

A few minutes later, Tina announced the games were about to begin, and called everyone into the living room. Standing beside Mary Jane, who'd been doing very well so far, I felt my heart stop when her hand brushed against mine. Was that an accident? Nothing more came of it, and I was finally able to breathe, but I couldn't help wondering.

"Bailey, could you get me a glass of punch?" Tina's question startled me out of my musings.

"Why can't you get it yourself? Legs broke?" I automatically shot back.

Her eyebrow went up higher than I'd ever seen. "No, I just want you to get it for me, since I'm feeling a little thirsty," she stated, fiercely.

Ding! The light bulb went on above my head, and I nodded. "Of course. I'd love to," I smiled, and told Mary Jane I'd be right back. I could hear Tina's voice all the way in the kitchen, and had to chuckle at her words - she was making sure no one would wonder if Mary Jane and I went into the closet together.

"Now, if two guys or two girls happen to be chosen, don't worry about it," she assured her friends. "The girls can gossip for ten minutes, and the guys can arm wrestle or whatever - just don't kill each other. Any questions? Let's get this show on the road!"

I took that as my cue, and came back into the living room, handing Tina her drink. Everyone had formed a circle on the floor, so I found a space not far from Mary Jane, glad to see Andrew had been placed on the almost total-opposite side as her, and joined the players. The first two pairs went quickly, though one girl was tucking her shirt back in when she came out of the large closet Tina had cleared out.

For those unfamiliar with this specific combination, I'll briefly explain the rules. One person spins the bottle, and instead of kissing whomever it lands on, they go into a room with that person, and do whatever they want for the allotted time. Tina had given us ten minutes alone, hence the "Ten Minutes in Heaven".

Mary Jane was next, and I watched her reach out to give the bottle a good spin. I have never prayed so hard in all my life. My heart was in my throat, and when I saw it come to a stop, I had the sudden urge to leap up and do a little happy dance when I realized it was pointing to me.

Thank you, God!

Taking a deep breath so I wouldn't pass out, I got to my feet and followed the small blonde into the closet, hearing Tina comment to everyone that we were just going to gossip.

If there's a God up there with a miracle to send my way, talking won't be the only thing we'll be doing with our lips, I thought, grinning inwardly.

Sitting down on the floor, facing Mary Jane, I decided to go ahead with the plan Tina had come up with.

"So, now what do we do?" I asked, and her green eyes looked startled. "I've never played this before."

I can pinpoint the exact moment she realized the ball was in her court - it was when I heard her swallow. It was up to her, now. Would she tell me what most people did, or would she tell me what Tina had told them? That would be the defining moment.

"Well, um, most of the time when two people are in here, they, uh, they kiss," she managed to stutter out, and, God help me, I think I still looked innocent.

"Like this?" I questioned, leaning forward a bit to lightly kiss her cheek. Delicate skin like no other touched my lips, and I had to force myself to pull away a few moments later, for fear of never being able to move from that spot again.

Mary Jane nodded, and seemed a bit flushed. "Well, yes, but…"

"But, what?" Okay, so I was bad. Yes, I was putting her on the spot. But this was it! I couldn't stand it!

"Well, uh, normally, it's… on the lips." The last part was a whisper, but it was enough to make my heart soar.

Still, I had to be sure. When I leaned forward this time, I considered pausing to ask her if she really wanted this, when our lips met. I'm still not clear on whether I moved quicker or if she just leaned closer to me. Either way, it was the most wonderful, exquisite, and unexplainable experience in my young life. Only my heart can speak the true words worthy of such a feeling… paper and pen don't do it justice, believe me.

When I pulled back, I wasn't sure if it was her heart that I heard beating so fast, or mine. I think it might have been both.

"This is okay?" I murmured, and she slowly nodded.

"Yes."

I kissed her once more, and then drew her into a strong hug, stroking her hair as I kissed the top of her head, softly. We stayed like that for a little while, just absorbing the closeness, before I decided I needed to make our togetherness official.

"I know it might be hard, and I understand if, for whatever you reason, you decide you can't, but… Mary Jane, will you be my girl?" With nervous blue eyes, I waited anxiously for her response; which was to smile brightly and lean her head against my shoulder.

"Yes," was the quiet syllable that changed me forever. It changed my idea of trust, love, and turned my world upside-down… never had one word meant so much.

There was silence for a while, and I saw we still had about seven minutes left. That was good. There was more I wanted to say. I wanted to kiss her again, sure, I wasn't crazy, but I wanted her to know a few things, as well.

"MJ, you know I'm here for you, right? Anything you need," I reminded her.

"I know, Bailey. We used to be a happy family," she said, abruptly, and I realized she had suddenly decided to talk to me. I was silent, allowing her to gather her thoughts. I told her I'd always be there if she wanted to talk, and that meant anytime - no matter when she might decide she was ready. "My mom, my dad, my brother and I. It wasn't always like this… but it's my fault."

"Mary Jane…" I began, but she squeezed my hand, and I fell quiet.

"No, Bailey, it is," she insisted. "We used to go on fishing trips, and camping trips, and go to movies, and watch TV at home together. Just like every other normal family in America. We had Barney, a Boxer puppy we got when I was eleven, and Socks, a cat we've had for as long as I can remember.

"But when I was almost thirteen, my brother found my diary, and decided to be a typical snoop and look through it," she sighed. "He read an entry that told about how I thought I had a crush on my best friend - I was young, but I already knew I was different than most of the girls my age. I didn't care about Jonathan Taylor Thomas; I was more interested in Jodie Sweeten.

"He freaked out and told my parents… my dad got very upset and my mom got very quiet. They knew they couldn't throw me out, but they both decided it would be best if they just ignored the problem. I guess they thought it would go away, but I was the problem…

"My brother, on the other hand, took it upon himself to 'change me back' from being gay." I flinched at this statement. "He thought that if he could keep me away from all girls, and make me hang around with his guy friends, and show me exactly what I'd be missing if I didn't have a man in my life, that I'd stop being gay. When something happens that makes him think I've 'turned', that's when he gets angry.

"So, it is all my fault."

"No, MJ, no," I soothed, pulling her to me. "It's not your fault that your parents don't accept you for who you are, and it's not your fault your brother read your diary. Don't ever think that, okay?" I urged, and then a thought hit me. "Wait… when he sees us together at lunch… when I bring you home… does that make him think you've 'turned'?" I questioned.

The blonde's eyes hit the floor.

My heart followed suit. "Oh, God," I groaned. I felt sick. "Mary Jane, why didn't you ever tell me? I wouldn't have done that if it got you in trouble!"

She looked up at me, green eyes full of tears. "I know," she said. "I didn't want you to stop sitting with me."

"Oh, MJ," I sighed, wiping away her tears with my thumb, before kissing her cheek and gently rocking her in my arms. "I'm so sorry. I want you to tell me the next time we do something that you think might get you in trouble, okay? We'll find a way around it," I promised, seeing that she was about to object.

She nodded. "We'll… we'll have to be careful," my girlfriend (is there a sweeter word?) stated, and I agreed.

"I know."

Tina suddenly knocked on the door. "Two minutes to gab, you two," she called.

"Nothing would make me happier than telling everyone within shouting range," I grinned, "but I know there's a lot of people who wouldn't be nearly as thrilled as I am. Especially at school… we'll have to just be friends, like before." As much as it broke my heart to say that, I knew it was true. That's why Tina had gone through all the trouble to dispel any of the partygoers' suspicions.

"Bailey?"

"What is it?"

She faltered, and I urged her on with a kiss to her temple. "You… you have a nickname for me…" was all she could get out in a rush of breath, and I smiled, gently.

"Do you have a nickname you want to use for me?"

"Can… would it be okay if I called you Bugs?"

I smiled until I thought my face would break… heard that saying 'an ear-to-ear grin'? Well, I think if I smiled any wider I would have been able to kiss my own ear.

"I would love it," I told her, and we kissed quickly, before reluctantly moving apart when Tina grabbed the knob of the door. She gave us sufficient warning that she was coming, so I reminded myself to thank her before the night was out.

Trying to act natural, we returned to our spots. I found myself unable to look away from Mary Jane, however. She seemed even more beautiful now that I could rightfully call her my girlfriend; strange, I know, but it's true.

"All right!" A shout from across the circle grabbed my attention, and I rolled my eyes when I noticed it was Luke, a senior who'd made his crush on me public knowledge, and his spin had brought the bottle to me. With a sigh, and a reassuring wink to Mary Jane, I followed him into the closet.

"Look, I really don't…" I began, but was silenced when his lips crushed against mine, and I even felt his tongue pushing roughly against my mouth, demanding entrance.

Fucking prick! I'm going to have to wash my mouth out with kerosene, now. I didn't think anymore, I just reacted.

He stumbled out with a bloody nose, and I shrugged at the startled onlookers. "He tried to kiss me," was all I said, and they laughed at the poor guy. If any of them thought Mary Jane and I had kissed, those thoughts were probably long gone after that incident… I was glad.

Catching the blonde's eye, I gave her a quick grin, and her green eyes lit up as she nodded. She trusted me to do the right thing, although we had only just gotten together; that was a great feeling.

I growled when I realized who was up next - Andrew. Watching him take his turn very carefully, I willed his head to explode when I saw who the bottle had chosen.

Mary Jane.

My blood boiled. My nose flared. My eyes narrowed. When I saw the little grin on his face I felt the tendons in my neck tighten as I snarled, and I was ready to get to my feet to knock the stuffing out of the ass hole before he could take another breath, when Tina called for our attention. She had been watching the whole thing from the kitchen, bless her heart, and had seen the match between Mary Jane and Andrew.

"All right, I think that's enough games for now! How about cake and ice cream?" she offered, and several people scrambled to grab paper plates and forks. The game was forgotten, and Andrew got to live another day.

Damn.

CHAPTER NINE

The party was a success, and other than three guys being thrown out for bringing beer, it went smoothly. Tina got a lot of gifts, mostly gag gifts, and we all got a good laugh when she unwrapped a book entitled, "101 Things to Do With a Useless Man". That even got a smile out of Mary Jane. We were sitting next to each other, and it was so hard for me not to take her hand, but I somehow managed to restrain myself, and we left the party with no one becoming wise to our new relationship.

Well, no one except Tina. She approached me just before we walked out the door, saying, "If you don't wipe that stupid grin off your face, my friend, everyone will think you got laid."

I chuckled. "I can't help it," I responded. "I'm just so happy! And thank you for everything tonight, Tina."

"Not a problem, hon. I'm happy for you, Hot Stuff. Now, go see to your girl before she wonders where you are," my friend smiled, giving me a quick hug before sending me off.

Climbing into the driver's side after opening the door for Mary Jane, I started the engine and that was all I could take. We'd been alone for all of three seconds and I reached out to gently grasp her hand, thrilled beyond words when she interlocked her fingers with my own.

We stayed like that the entire drive home, and I reluctantly drew my hand away to put my car in park when I pulled into the driveway. Turning to face the small blonde beside me, I sighed as I said, "I think it would maybe be best if we didn't tell anyone just yet." Mary Jane agreed. "Okay. How about we go inside and hit the sack? It's already past eleven o'clock."

"Okay. Bailey?" she asked, and my hand stilled on the handle of the door.

"Yeah?"

"Can I… can I wear your T-shirt again?"

I smiled, and lightly kissed her nose, causing her to break into a startled grin that warmed my heart. "I wouldn't have it any other way, MJ," I promised, and the first thing I did when I walked in my room was retrieve the said T-shirt. We both changed quickly, and then she helped me make up the couch, finally realizing she had no hopes of convincing me to sleep in my own bed while she took the sofa.

When the couch was ready, I followed her back into my bedroom, under the pretense of making sure she had everything she needed.

"Yes, thank you. Good night, Bugs," she said, smiling a little.

I laughed softy, finding that I really liked the name as it tumbled from her lips. "Good night, MJ. Sweet dreams." Before I knew what was happening, I felt our lips come together gently, and my hand reached up to caress the side of her face as we kissed. I think I was the one that initiated the meeting of our tongues, but once again, I can't be sure. At any rate, time stopped when I tasted her for the first time.

Not wanting to do too much too soon, I slowly pulled back, the happy smile reaching my eyes as we lightly rubbed noses. God, I had never wanted to be so close to another human being in my entire life. I didn't ever want to leave the warmth of her lips, the depth of her eyes, or the beat of her heart.

"Good night," I whispered, and forced myself to walk out of the room before I got carried away. I flopped down onto the couch with a sigh that brought Soda to my side, gently nudging my arm, looking concerned.

"I'm all right, Soda," I assured the dog, scratching under his chin. "I'm just in love."

* * * * *

The next morning I awoke with a start, and hurried to my room. Although Mary Jane had promised she'd stay, there was still a small part of me that worried her fear of Damon would get the best of her and she'd leave.

To my relief, I found her sleeping soundly, curled up into the cutest little ball under my blankets. I was struck speechless. She was so beautiful, and she looked so peaceful. In her rest, at least, she was free from the troubles of her family. I had the overwhelming urge to just climb in beside her and curl up against her…

"Oh, you're up."

I jumped about a mile, and turned to see my dad, just stumbling out of his room.

"What time did you get in?" he asked, and I willed my heartbeat to return to normal.

"About eleven," I shrugged, and he nodded.

"That's not too bad. What would you girls say to washing the cars after breakfast?" When I agreed, my dad said he'd start cooking if I wanted to wake Mary Jane, and then left me on my own. When I was sure he was occupied in the kitchen, I quietly entered my bedroom and knelt down beside my slumbering girlfriend, careful not to startle her.

"Mary Jane," I whispered, and gently brushed her hair away from her face only to place a soft kiss on her cheek. She groaned, and I realized that, given the chance, she was not an early riser as I had thought. That made me smile, and the idea of letting her sleep in was very tempting, but I knew Dad would have breakfast ready soon.

"MJ, time to get up." It took a few more minutes of coaxing to get her to wake up, and I smiled as sleep-filled emerald eyes focused on me. "Hey, there."

"Morning," the blonde replied.

"Dad roped us in to washing the cars after breakfast," I told her, and she accepted this with a nod. "It should be ready to eat in a little while, if you want to get dressed or take a quick shower."

She took me up on the offer, and soon I heard water running. The only thing that did was make me wonder if I'd get to see her clad in just a towel. Instead of getting myself in trouble by waiting in my bedroom for her to return, I made my way into the kitchen to help cook.

When she walked into the kitchen a few moments later, I very nearly poured the third batch of pancake batter on the floor instead of on the griddle. She was wearing a pair of red shorts with a gray t-shirt, no shoes, and her hair was still damp. I realized this was the most relaxed I'd ever seen her, and it was a wonderful sight.

"Good morning, Mary Jane. You look rested this morning," my dad smiled.

Mary Jane nodded. "Good morning, Darryl," she acknowledged. "I am rested, thank you."

It was hard not to pull the chair out for her, but I had to act natural around my father, or I was afraid he'd suspect something, and I couldn't have that; at least, not yet. Since I didn't know for sure how he'd react, I didn't want him to find out only to discover an angry parent would ruin my new relationship with Mary Jane.

After the pancakes, bacon, and eggs had been devoured, my dad ushered us out front. Hooking up the hoses, I backed my dad's truck out into the driveway alongside my Explorer, and began rinsing the outermost layer of grime from it. Mary Jane started in on my dad's Toyota.

I was just spraying my back window, when I suddenly found myself soaked. Pausing, I turned to see a smiling blonde with the smoking gun in her hand; or dripping hose, in this case. I raised an eyebrow at her, and just as her smile began to fade, and I could tell she was thinking I was really upset, I grinned and hit her in the stomach with a blast of water.

Soon, moments later, we were both sopping wet and laughing hysterically.

Remember what I said about how I'd never forget the first time Mary Jane was able to joke around with me? I was right. That jet of water didn't just start a water fight; it opened the door to Mary Jane's very heart. For her to be comfortable enough to initiate such a playful gesture pleased me to no end.

Reaching for the young woman, I drew her into a strong hug, and quickly kissed the top of her head.

"That was great, MJ," I laughed.

"It was fun," she agreed, and I locked the sound of her laughter into my heart, where it remains presently, clear as day.

When both vehicles were clean, I offered to take her out to the movies, just because. At first she seemed surprised, but then she agreed, and I told my dad the plan after we'd changed into dry clothes.

"What are you going to go see?" he asked, casually, examining the shiny truck in our driveway, pleased with our work.

I glanced at Mary Jane, and she looked just as clueless as I felt. I shrugged. "I don't know, we'll probably just drive by and see what looks good," I replied, and my dad nodded.

"Okay. Well, thank you for washing my truck, Mary Jane - you did a great job!" he grinned, and I gave him a mock pout. "Oh, Doc, your car looks great, too," he laughed, and I grinned. "Have a good time at the movies, girls, and I'll see you later."

We ended up watching Legally Blonde with Reese Witherspoon. It was a pretty good movie; funny, but with some serious parts thrown it. And it was based on a book, as most movies had been lately, so I was happy. There was even a self-proclaimed lesbian character in it, which made for an interesting scene.

All in all, we had fun, but the best part of the movie had to be when I found myself holding Mary Jane's hand. Yep, that was by far the best moment. We were sitting in the back, and there was no one around us, so I wasn't too worried about anyone noticing, which was nice. I wanted to do that all the time, and it was hard to remember that I couldn't take her hand when we were out in public. Not everyone would understand.

"That was a pretty good movie," I commented, and Mary Jane agreed.

"Thank you, Bugs," she smiled, and I grinned widely at the name. "I had fun today."

Well, if my girlfriend liked the movies, then the movies we would do. It became a tradition; every weekend when Damon would go out to his friend's house, Mary Jane would come over on Sunday and we'd go see a movie. For the next three weeks I found myself looking forward to every day of school, because it meant I got to see Mary Jane and eat lunch with her. We were more careful now to make sure she didn't get in trouble - when her brother drove around I would get up and sit at a nearby table for a moment, before coming back to join her. The weekends meant we had the chance to go out together, and I could take her away from her home life for a while. I was happier than I'd been in a long time.

Despite the fact that Mr. Heath was still being a jerk, giving me strange looks in the halls, and the real stalker hadn't been caught yet. It seemed as though numerous crimes were suddenly popping up around our town; the stalker, bank robbers, car thieves… the rumors of embezzlement in several businesses that had been going around were forgotten.

Luckily, Mary Jane had promised to tell me if Damon got angry with her for anything we did, and she said he hadn't said a word about her 'turning' lately. I guess he thought he was succeeding, and while that didn't please me, she didn't seem to be coming to school with anymore visible bruises, so that was good.

Andrew was still being his same old self, however. He had a bad habit of catching me just before I went to sit with Mary Jane at lunch, and if I didn't see him then, I was sure to see him after school. He had a thing about bothering me, and one day in particular really made me upset.

"Oh, Bailey, look what I've got," sang Andrew, as I was walking down the hallway during passing period, trying to make my way to Mary Jane's class so I could walk with her, and I glanced up to see him waving two tickets in his hand. "Two tickets to the movies!"

I smiled sweetly, and swiftly grabbed them both from his grasp. "Why, Andrew, you shouldn't have," I grinned, and the boy glared at me, taking them back.

"They're not for you, Smith. I need to know where Mary Jane is - she has to go with me, now that I've bought the tickets!" he rationalized, and I sighed.

"Come off it, Turnkey."

"I know you guys are friends, so tell me where she is!" he insisted.

I shook my head. "I don't know," I lied.

Andrew's smile turned into a sneer. "Come on, Bailey, this may be my only chance to get her in my car," he explained. "Once I do that, she's mine for the taking!"

"Forget it, Andrew. I won't let Mary Jane go anywhere with you alone."

"You've got to help me out here…" he pleaded, suddenly desperate. "If you won't let her go alone, does that mean you're going, too? I can always take you both. In more ways than one, you know." He brought his hand up to his lips and wiggled his tongue through his fingers, as I fought the urge to rip the damned thing out of his mouth. I was sure it was forked at some point.

"In your dreams, ass hole."

He grinned. "Exactly." I rolled my eyes. "I can find an extra ticket if you change your mind…"

"Leave Mary Jane alone, Andrew. You mess with her and you mess with me, got it?" I snarled. "Unless you want to be breathing through a ventilator tube or traveling in a wheelchair for the rest of your life, you'll back off."

The jerk was quiet for too long, before giving me a sickening smile. "Absolutely, Bailey. Got it," he cooed, walking away, leaving me feeling angry and worried, not to mention disgusted.

I ran into Mary Jane not long afterwards, and I could tell she was excited about something just by the way she greeted me.

"Bailey! What are you doing tonight?" she asked, and I took a moment to think about it.

"I have my Karate class, why?"

She paused. "You know that awards ceremony?" I nodded. "Are you going?"

I shrugged. "I wasn't planning on it. I figure they'll just give me anything tomorrow in class, anyhow," was my response, and I kicked myself when I saw her face fall. Why did I have to speak before I thought? Why?

"Oh. Okay."

"Why, MJ, are you up for something?" I questioned, but she shook her head.

"No, that's okay."

I frowned. "MJ…" I sighed, gently taking her chin in my hands, but she looked away. I let my hands fall to my sides, a bit hurt by the rejection. "I haven't missed a single class, ever. Even when I was sick I managed to go," I continued, evenly.

"I understand, Bailey," she said, quietly. The bell rang, and she turned to leave. "Have a good class," the blonde murmured, walking down the hall.

I felt horrible as I watched her go. Damn it! Now she was upset, and it was all my fault! But, still, I'd made a commitment to Karate, and it was one I had to keep. I mean, a ceremony that wasn't mandatory was no reason to miss class…

I kept that mindset most of the night, and although it was hard, I found myself placing my gym bag in the passenger seat and driving towards the dojo. I had to force myself to keep going, but even though my physical self was going to class, my mind was refuting the choice.

Why am I doing this? Why don't I just turn around and go to the ceremony? I asked myself, angrily. What's one class? I can make it up, and if I get in trouble for it, so what? This is Mary Jane we're talking about, and it's not as if she has a family to support her.

That's it! The thought hit me in an instant. If I don't go, she'll really be crushed - no one will be there for her. Well, that's not going to happen!

It took me all of two seconds to make my decision. Signaling, I moved into the left lane, made a u-turn, and headed for the high school. I had a very important young woman to cheer for, after all, and I'd be damned if I was going to let her stand up on that stage in front of hundreds of people and still feel alone.

Sensei Moorland would understand. She'd have to. Mary Jane was a much more important commitment than any class; it had just taken me a little while to really understand that.

I arrived at the school in about ten minutes, and prayed I wasn't too late. Rushing inside, I quietly found a seat near the center aisle of the auditorium, and glanced around for Mary Jane. I didn't see her, but I knew she'd be called for something.

"And now, the Language Arts Award," announced our vice principal, and began giving a little background on the award. "This is an award that is only given to four students out of each class, and in fact, one of this year's winners has received this award for three consecutive years now. First up, Mary Jane Wilcox."

While everyone applauded politely, I had to cross my ankles so I wouldn't jump to my feet. Watching her walk up there and shake the man's hand… I was proud. I was very proud. Standing up on stage, certificate in her hand, she waited patiently for the other names to be called, and, out of the hundreds of people there, she managed to see me. I gave her as big a grin as I could manage, and a thumbs-up. She smiled, and I could've sworn I noticed her biting her lip - was she crying?

Uh-oh. Tears weren't good.

She also received the school's art award, and this time I couldn't help it. It was the last award of the night, and I started a standing ovation. Okay, so I was one of a few people standing, but hey, it's the thought, right?

The blonde still had that look in her eyes, so I was quick to lead her out the back and to my car, where we could talk.

"MJ, what's wrong?" I asked, concerned by the tears pooling in her eyes. "Talk to me, please."

"You came," she said, and I nodded, with a small grin.

"Well, I couldn't let the best girl in school go up there without a cheering section, now could I?" I replied gently, and she choked back a sob as she wrapped her arms around my neck.

"Hey…" I soothed, holding her tightly. "You want to tell me what this is all about? You should be happy, you did so well! I'm proud of you!"

She sniffled, and wiped at her eyes. "No one's ever come to anything like this for me," she admitted, quietly. "I thought you had Karate practice."

"You're more important," I answered, instantly. "I'm just sorry it took me so long to realize that fact. But, I do believe congratulations are in order!" I announced, trying to lighten the mood, and took it upon myself to properly examine the crisp certificates. In just a few minutes, I had her smiling again, and offered to take her home, but she shook her head.

"Damon should be here in about twenty minutes," she informed me, and I stiffened at the name. "He said he'd pick me up after his TV show was over."

I sighed. "Can I stay with you until he comes, then?" I asked, and the blonde nodded, happily accepting my second offer. We talked and cuddled for a little while, and I began to feel thankful that I'd parked under a dim street light that didn't shine through my tinted windows, when Mary Jane said she'd better get outside before her brother showed up and saw her climbing out of my car.

"I'll stay until you leave," I promised, and she tried to talk me out of it, but I told her I wanted to make sure she wasn't waiting too long. If he didn't show up, I didn't want her standing outside all night.

"Bailey?" she called, just before she closed the door.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for coming. It really meant a lot to me."

I smiled. "I'm glad I could be here, MJ," I replied, and she softly closed the passenger door, walking a few yards away to wait for her brother to pull up.

Sure enough, about ten minutes later, a beat up blue Honda Civic came tearing into the parking lot, coming to a screeching halt just before Mary Jane. I was glad most of the other people had left, so there wasn't an accident. Climbing inside, I watched as she handed her brother the certificates she'd earned, and he carelessly threw them into the backseat without so much as a glance at them.

My eyes narrowed, and I had to buckle my seat belt so I didn't walk over there and beat the living shit out of the creep.

She earned those, goddamn it, I thought, angrily. She worked hard to get those awards… how dare you just toss them away like they mean nothing? I'd be picking out frames and praising her, not stomping out her hopes and dreams, you son of a bitch. One of these days, Mary Jane, I'm going to get you out of there. I promise.

One of these days…

CHAPTER TEN

Sunday morning I got up to help my dad in the garage, but he told me to relax. I argued with him for a moment, since I felt like I needed to help him - it was my vehicle he was working on after all, but he wouldn't let me.

"Just take the day off, Doc," he insisted.

"Dad…"

"Come on, humor me, Bailey. I know you had a heavy load of work this week, and you took off yesterday so you could rest, but instead you helped me outside. I don't want you working here at home today," was his explanation, and I sighed, but gave in. He was right; I'd stayed late every night to help Jerry, since Patrick was on vacation, so it had been an especially long week of work for me, and I'd asked for Saturday off to rest, only to give my dad a little help on a customer's van.

I grinned. "Thanks." I was returning to my room to maybe get a little writing in, since Mary Jane had called the night before to say she wouldn't be able to go to the movies because her brother insisted that she had to do some work on the computer for him, when there was a knock on the door. Not caring that I was only clad in my boxers and a sports bra, I opened it, only to find my best friend standing on my doorstep.

"Tina!" I exclaimed, giving her a quick hug. "What's wrong?" I asked, when the gesture wasn't returned as enthusiastically as normal.

"Sit down."

I frowned, but invited her in, and sat on the couch as I was told.

"I need to tell you something, Bailey. It's about Mary Jane."

My heart pounded. "Is she okay? God, Tina, is she hurt?" I demanded, scared out of my mind that something had happened.

"No, she's not hurt," she assured me, and I reminded myself to breathe. "She's anything but hurt."

Then I noticed what was different about my friend's mood - the brunette was angry. No, not just angry; totally pissed off. Her eyes were smoldering, and I wondered what could have possibly set my typically cheerful friend off in such a tizzy.

"Tina, what's going on?"

"I just came from the park…"

"And?" I was getting impatient. Tina knew something concerning my girlfriend that I didn't, and it was something that made her mad… I wanted to know what it was!

"I saw Mary Jane… I'm sorry, Bailey, but she was all over some guy."

I swallowed. "What?" I asked, my throat suddenly dry enough to make me have to repeat myself. "What did you say?"

"She was hanging all over this buff blonde guy."

I refused to believe that Mary Jane would cheat on me. "It was probably her brother," I decided. "He makes her do a bunch of sick shit, and she told me he had some stuff he wanted her to do today, which is why she couldn't go to the movies with me."

She looked at me, seriously. "I thought you said he had dark hair - this guy was a very muscular blonde. He could have been a surfer," she added, and I felt my heart sink. That didn't describe Damon at all.

"Listen, Mary Jane wouldn't do that!" I cried, getting to my feet. "I don't know what you thought you saw, Tina, but…"

"Then come with me!" she countered. "They're probably still there."

"Let me throw a pair of jeans on," I requested, and bolted to my room to get dressed. "You'll see, Tina, I'm going to prove you wrong!" I called, as I quickly grabbed my socks and shoes, slipping a shirt over my head as I walked back down the hall.

"I hope you do, my friend," she muttered, telling my dad she was kidnapping me for a minute and we'd be back in a little while. "I sincerely hope you do."

Tina drove, and we arrived at the park in just a few minutes, my blue eyes quickly scanning the people in the grassy area.

"There," she said, pointing towards a few benches placed under a group of trees not far from the playground. "That's where they were when I left."

For the first time in my life, I swear my body was betraying me. My eyes were showing me something that couldn't possibly be true. They told me that Mary Jane was standing next to a tall blonde man, her arm around his waist, laughing occasionally at something her brother or the surfer guy would say, clutching at his hand as though it were the only thing that mattered. According to my eyes, my girlfriend was happily hanging all over this guy, smiling brightly when he kissed her cheek and giggling when he picked her up in his arms for a moment.

I felt sick, and closed my eyes. They were lying to me, anyhow, and my heart was a traitor to have let me fall in love with someone who would only hurt me.

"Hey, Bailey…"

"Take me home, Tina. Please, take me home," I pleaded, quietly, and my friend agreed silently. Pulling away from the curb, I leaned my head back in the seat, and took deep breaths to keep my breakfast where it was.

When we pulled into my driveway, I rushed into the house and headed for the bathroom, kneeling by the toilet in case I was really sick like my stomach was threatening.

"Oh, God…" I moaned as I felt the tears run down my face.

My dad knocked on the door. "Bailey?"

I heard Tina urge him away. "Let me take of her, Darryl. Please, she'll tell you if she's ready," she said, softly, and then she entered the bathroom a few seconds later.

"Bailey, are you all right?"

I shook my head, and leaned into my friend as she put her arms around me, crying into her shoulder like I hadn't done since my mom died. She was there for me that night, too, holding me tightly as I sobbed, having just found out the news from my devastated father, her own parents coming to comfort my dad.

Just like when I lost my mom, I felt like nothing could be worse. There was nothing that could make me feel as bad as I was at that time… the woman that meant everything to me was gone.

"Why, Tina? Why would she do that?"

"I don't know, honey," she soothed, brushing my hair back from my face for me. I was too broken to do anything at the moment… that's the only way to explain how I felt: broken. I felt as though my whole world had been taken away from me in a split second, and there was no way I could get it back.

"But I will hurt her myself because of it."

I shook my head. "No, Tina," I whispered. "Don't. I'll have to talk to her myself… and I will," I decided. "I just don't know how I'm going to do it."

Tina stayed the night, going so far as to sleep in my bed like we did when we were little, letting me sleep with my head on her chest as she cradled me. She didn't even say anything when I angrily threw a pillow at my radio, as it began to play our song… she just pulled me closer.

There really was nothing sexual about it - she was straight, I was gay, and neither one of us had ever felt anything more than friendship towards each other. It just felt good to be comforted by someone in my life I knew I could depend on, and while my dad tried, he finally got the message that I didn't want to talk about it yet, but I knew he was there for me. They both were.

Had you asked me the day before, I would have mentioned Mary Jane in that list, but after what I'd seen…

She left the next morning just as I was walking out the door for school, and gave me one last long hug in front of her car.

"Call me later, okay, Bailey?"

I nodded. "Thanks, Tina. I really appreciate you staying. I know I wasn't much company, but…"

She cut me off. "Hey, I always have a good time with you, Hot Stuff," she joked, and kissed my cheek. "Take care."

I must have been a pitiful sight as I walked into school that morning… my eyes were still red from crying in the car before the bell rang, and I knew I had to have circles under them from staying up most of the night. I felt like shit, and I'm sure I looked even worse.

But I dreaded having to face Mary Jane at lunch. When the bell rang and I started walking in that direction, I felt my heart pound painfully against my chest when the small blonde smiled up at me, and I recalled how she'd done the same to the guy at the park. She looked at him the same way she looked at me…

God, I was going to be sick again.

I sank down beside her with a heavy sigh, putting my head in my hands.

"Bailey?" she asked, concerned, and reached out to touch my shoulder.

I looked up quickly, pinning her with a glare that made her freeze, and she returned her hand to her side.

"Where were you yesterday?" I demanded.

"At the park."

"With who?" The look in her eyes told me she suddenly realized what was going on. She knew I knew.

"Damon and some of his friends…"

"Were you… with any of them? A blonde guy?" I couldn't believe I was asking my girlfriend this… surely she'd tell me I was wrong, it was all a joke of some kind. Surely she hadn't cheated on me. I mean, this was Mary Jane I was talking to, after all. There had to be some sort of explanation… I still wanted to believe in her. God help me, even after all I'd seen, I didn't want to think of her as being anything other than perfect.

Time stopped when she nodded.

"Bailey…" she began.

I stood up quickly, tears in my eyes, my heart breaking and my voice cracking as I snarled, "Fuck you. Just stay the hell away from me." I hurried through the halls, glad I knew the way by heart, since I couldn't see for the tears. Racing to my car, I simply sat there and cried, allowing myself to pound on the back of my seat in my anger.

I had to commend myself for not striking her, but when she confirmed my suspicions, I was too hurt to think about hitting her. All I knew was the pain, and the betrayal. I felt very betrayed…

You forget, Bailey, she's an actress - she has to be, to live with her brother, my mind recalled. It was probably all just an act on her part.

"But, damn it, I wasn't acting," I said, aloud. "I meant it all… how could someone I love so much hurt me so bad?"

It seemed as though the moment I didn't want to see her, she started appearing everywhere. I saw her during passing period, as I walked to my car, at work… I was trying to avoid her, to save myself a small amount of pain, but it wasn't working.

And she didn't want to let me alone, either. She kept calling my house, but when I'd pick up and hear her voice, I'd hang up. We went on like that all week. I'd try to stay away from her, but if I did see her, I'd only send her the worst look I could muster and walk in the other direction, completely missing the hurt I was causing. When she'd call I'd hang up on her, and eventually I just stopped answering the phone altogether.

I hadn't told my dad, yet, and I wasn't sure quite what to tell him, besides. I knew he'd be upset, and I didn't want to do that. Plus, I didn't want to have to relive the emotions and images any more often than I did already… every time I closed my eyes I saw her with the guy, laughing and kissing. And every time I felt that surge of pain in my heart.

On Saturday afternoon, one week after the day I realized my heart was a traitor, I was sitting on the couch doing my homework when the phone rang. I glanced at my dad, telling him I wasn't about to pick it up, so he grabbed the call.

"Doc, it's Mary Jane," he said, a few moments later, and I didn't even glance up from my textbook.

"Hang up."

"She's crying."

"I don't give a flying fuck," I spat, angrily, not caring for the time that I was cursing heavily in front of my father. "Hang up the goddamn phone."

"She says something about how you told her to call if he ever did it again…"

I froze. She was making good on her promise to call me… I'd told her I'd always be there for her, all she'd have to do was call…

Well, none of that mattered now. She'd hurt me terribly, so what the hell did I care what happened to her?

"Hang up," I repeated, hoarsely, and flew into my room.

By dusk I couldn't take it anymore. I told my dad I was going out and drove down the road to Mary Jane's house, convincing myself all along of why I was doing it.

I don't really give a fuck what happens to her, for the most part, but no one should have to live with that, I decided. I was still too hurt and angry to let my traitorous heart tell me I still cared for her, but that didn't mean I couldn't be human. I wouldn't wish that kind of life on my worst enemy…

She must have seen me pull up because she ran outside and climbed into the front seat before I could even get out of my seat belt.

"What happened?" I questioned, evenly, as though I didn't care.

"He just started saying some things… like I was stupid and would never amount to anything… and you told me to call you if he started that again," she explained. "But that's all he did."

"So you're really fine, then?"

"I… I also wanted to talk to you."

My jaw tensed. She was the last person I wanted to talk to at the moment.

"I didn't think you'd come," she continued, when I was quiet.

I sighed. "No one deserves to be subjected to that… even you," I stated, flatly.

My tone must have told her I was really ticked. "Bailey, I'm so sorry!" she cried.

"You certainly didn't look sorry at the park with that guy," I spat.

Damn. She was crying again. "Please, let me explain… I didn't want to be with him, Bailey, but I had to. Damon said if I didn't that he'd know for sure that I was with you, since he'd seen us together, and then he'd hurt you. I couldn't let that happen."

"So you decided to rip out my heart instead?" Oops. I didn't mean for her to know how bad it had hurt. Too late.

She was sobbing, now. "Oh, Bugs, I'm sorry."

"Don't call me that," I ordered. Somebody I loved used to call me that. I wanted to say it, but I didn't. We had never talked about love, and it sure wouldn't do any good to talk about something that could no longer be.

"What I don't understand is why you couldn't just tell me, instead of canceling our movie date to go be with some ass at the park. Why couldn't you have said you didn't want to be with me anymore?"

"Because it's not true!"

I rolled my eyes. "I know what I saw, Mary Jane; you were all over that jerk," I reminded her. "Or were you just acting?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I was only pretending!"

"So how do I know you weren't pretending with me, then?" I roared. "How do I know it all wasn't some fucking act for you?"

"I'm sorry that's what you think," she said, softly. "I thought you knew I trusted you… I did, Bailey."

"And I thought I could trust you," I countered. "But I was wrong." There was silence for a while, and then I took a deep breath. "Look, I won't send you back in there since he knows you've been in here talking to me. You can stay at my house tonight and I'll take you back in the morning."

Without giving her a chance to respond, I drove back home, walking inside without waiting to see if she'd follow. She did, and I threw an old T-shirt of mine on my bed, making sure it was not my Bugs Bunny shirt… I couldn't handle seeing her in that.

"Here," I gestured. "You can sleep in that."

"Good night, Bailey," she whispered, gently, but I just kept walking. Once I was sure she was in my room, and couldn't hear me, I sank into the couch and sobbed into my pillow until I fell asleep. Just thinking about her wearing my Bugs Bunny shirt was enough to remind me of the good times we'd had and the feelings I thought we'd shared…

Too much hurt and conflicting feelings for one day, I fell into an exhausted sleep, only to be awakened a few hours later by my dog.

"Soda, what do you want?" I sighed, as the pup licked my face. Getting up, I went to let him out into the backyard, thinking perhaps his doggie door was blocked, but he just sat down and stared at me, whining.

"What, you don't want to go out? Then leave me alone." I was heading back to the couch when he ran into the back of my legs, making me stumble. "Sodapop!" I scolded, and he merely nudged me again, starting down the hall, stopping and looking back as if to ask if I was coming.

"For crying out loud…" I muttered, and followed my dog into my room, where Mary Jane was having a nightmare. The small blonde was tossing and turning under the covers, looking very vulnerable and sounding very afraid.

I felt my lip twitch as I steeled myself not to care. "No, Soda, it's her problem now," I decided, but couldn't bring myself to leave the room.

"Damn it," I swore, as I gave in and made my way to her side. Still, I tried to distance myself as much as possible. "Mary Jane," I spoke, standing over her. "Mary Jane, it's just a dream."

When that didn't work, I put my hand on her shoulder, consciously keeping it still, refusing to let my thumb stroke her skin or my fingers lightly feel the fabric of her shirt. I didn't love her… not after what she'd done, or so I told myself, and I was doing everything in my power not to let my heart get drawn into that trap again.

Gently squeezing her shoulder, she awoke, and her eyes met mine, showing me just how afraid she had been.

"It was a nightmare," I stated, and decided I would leave now that she was awake, but found myself held by two frantic arms that had suddenly been thrown around my waist. Pulling me close, she lightly cried into my shirt, and I cruelly removed her grip.

"Don't," I hissed. "It was a nightmare, you're fine. Go back to sleep."

"Bailey?" her voice was small as she spoke my name to my retreating back. "Will you stay with me? I… I won't touch you if you don't want, but, please, stay with me."

I growled. I didn't want to accept her request, but my heart was paying more attention to the gentle sound of her voice than the hurt she'd caused me just a week before. Pulling out the chair by my desk, I spun it around and sat down, pointedly meeting her gaze so she'd know that was as much as I planned to do.

"Thank you," she voiced, and lay back down, asleep quickly.

I, on the other hand, was wide-awake. I sat there, staring at her… God, all I wanted to do was touch her and kiss her and let myself indulge one last time on all the things I was missing, but I knew it'd only lead to more hurt. Moving closer, I sat down on the edge of the bed, and remembered all the times she'd laughed or smiled and it had just brightened my whole day. I remembered our first kiss, getting sprayed with the water hose, being able to see her walk up on stage and accept the awards she'd worked so hard to earn… those were the times that I thought my heart couldn't hold any more happiness.

Focusing on those good feelings, I found myself wanting to kiss her… badly. Leaning down, I was a breath away from her lips when she stirred, and turned towards me, throwing her arm over my lap.

Raising an eyebrow at our position, I decided to allow myself one last moment of happiness. I would just wake up before she did, and she'd never know I fell asleep beside her. That way I could hold her in my arms for the last time.

Sliding in beside her, I was careful not to wake her, and had to fight back the tears when she automatically sought out my shoulder as a pillow. Wrapping my arms around her, I pulled her close, and held her as I cried silent tears, knowing this would be the final time I would ever know the feeling of her in my arms.

* * * * *

I awoke the next morning to find a pair of green orbs staring at me.

"Damn," I cursed, realizing that Mary Jane and I were still locked in our embrace, my leg in fact lying over her own.

I began to disentangle myself from her grasp, but she tugged on my hand. "Bailey, what's wrong?"

I was disgusted with myself for letting her know what I'd done. "Just let me up," I said, firmly. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

"What do I have to do to prove to you how sorry I am?" she questioned. "What can I do that will make you believe I was never acting around you?"

I looked away. "You can't."

And then she kissed me. Softly at first, as if making sure I would allow it, and while I did grow a bit rigid at first, I eventually let my pounding heart take over and I melted into the kiss, beginning to lightly return the caress. Then she became a bit more insistent, not pulling back until we both needed air, leaving me breathless and my head spinning from the passionate kiss.

"Please believe me," she requested, quietly, kissing me quickly once more. "Damon told me I had to go with him and his friends or he'd hurt you… I was only acting, Bailey, I swear it."

I sighed. "But how do I know you're not acting with me?" I questioned, the hurt evident in my voice. "How do I know for sure that you really want to be with me?"

She tilted her head at me, gently. "Because I trust you, Bailey," she said, simply. "I… It's been a long time since I've been able to trust anyone. I am more myself around you than anyone, and I think you know that… I hope you know that," she added. "No one else sees that side of me because I'm not comfortable enough. But I feel safe with you, Bailey. I don't know exactly how I can prove it to you, but I don't want this to ruin us - please, give us another chance."

I took a deep breath, and slid out from underneath her. "I have some things I need to think about," I told her. "Breakfast will be ready in a few." With that, I left her in my room, walking out to the kitchen, thinking about what she'd said. I wanted to believe her… God, I wanted to trust her like I'd never wanted anything before in my life, but it was so hard! I couldn't get over the image of her with that guy.

"Bailey?"

Jesus, I didn't know she'd followed me! Spinning around, I found her standing in the kitchen, barefoot, still wearing the long T-shirt I'd given her the night before.

"What?" I asked.

"I think I know a way to prove it to you."

"How's that?"

"Get dressed and take me home."

I was stunned. "What?"

"Come on… it'll only take about five minutes," she urged, and turned around to get dressed herself.

Shaking my head, and wondering what on earth she had in mind, I pulled on a pair of jeans over my boxers and left my old T-shirt on, the one with a bunch of grease stains all over it. I figured we weren't going out anywhere, if I had any say in it, so it didn't really matter what I looked like.

She walked out of my room a few minutes later, as I was tying my shoes, and announced she was ready to go. Shrugging, I left a note for my dad, and we climbed into my Explorer.

"Wait here, I'll be out in just a second," she said, when we pulled up, and I sighed as I waited impatiently for her to return. I had no clue what she was doing, I only hoped Damon wasn't home to intercept her.

The blonde returned a few moments later with a small book, and she handed it to me. "It's my diary, Bailey."

I froze, shocked. "Mary Jane, these are your private thoughts," I began. "I can't read them."

She gave me a pleading look. "Just read the entry dated last Saturday… please."

Feeling extremely guilty, although she was asking me to do it, I did as I was told, and flipped to the page dated May 3rd…

Dear Diary,

It looks like D wants me to go out with more of his friends tomorrow… that means I have to cancel my date with Bugs! I really hate doing that… we have so much fun together, and she lets me really be me. I'm not afraid to laugh when I'm around her, or speak what I'm feeling. I trust her, and I know she won't get mad.

Did I tell you that she went to the Awards Ceremony? I still can't believe she came! I cried when I saw her sitting there… I knew she was there for me. She is so sweet when it comes to things like that. I wish I could tell her why I can't make our date, but I know she'd only get upset… and D said I couldn't tell, besides.

He wants to set me up with another one of his friends… a Clark this time, I believe. I only go along with it because I know it's what he wants and it means nothing to me, but now it's different… with Bugs in my life, I feel like I'm cheating on her! God, I don't want to hurt her, but if I tell D can't go, he'll know that something is up. And if he finds out I'm with Bugs, I won't be the only one in trouble!

Well, I'd guess I'd better call her… D is only going to be gone for another few minutes. Please forgive me, Bugs… I wish it were you. I want to be with you tomorrow, no one else.

Maybe someday I'll be able to tell her what really went on…

More when I can,

MJ (I love it when Bugs calls me that!)

I closed the book slowly. When I glanced up at her, I had tears in my eyes.

"He really made you be with him," I stated, and she nodded, obviously waiting to see if I'd believe it. It was just too personal to be made up, I thought. There was no way she would lie in her diary.

"I'm so sorry, MJ," I said, and gave her back her diary. "Can you forgive me?"

With a relieved smile, she fell into my arms, and happily returned my hug. "If you can forgive me… I didn't want to do it, Bailey!" she insisted, and I nodded.

"I know. I know that, now," I assured her, stroking her hair as I kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry I doubted you. How about we head back, okay? I've still got to fix breakfast and then maybe we can do a little more talking."

We spent the rest of the day sitting on a bench in the park, having taken Soda for a walk, letting him run as we talked about everything that had happened. We both apologized, me more than her, and forgave each other. I promised to let her explain the next time, and she said she'd do her best to tell me what was going on.

I took her home later that afternoon, when she said she was expecting Damon to return in an hour or so, and made sure to give her one long kiss before she left.

"I'll see you at lunch tomorrow," I smiled, and she nodded.

"I look forward to it, Bugs." There she paused. "Can I call you that?"

I swallowed, feeling bad that she had to ask for permission to call me by my nickname. "I would love it, MJ," I told her, honestly, and we exchanged one more kiss before she walked into the house.

Part 3

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Having made up with my girlfriend over the weekend, the next week passed by almost too wonderfully. Damon was actually gone during the day on Wednesday and Thursday, so I was able to take Mary Jane out to lunch with me both days. It was nice to go somewhere and know she wouldn't get in trouble for it. On Friday I got a true laugh out of her, by reaching out to lightly tickle her stomach when she wasn't expecting it, but the sparkle in her emerald eyes told me she really enjoyed it. I figured it had been a while since she'd actually laughed because of someone being gentle with her.

Then, on Sunday, we happened to choose a movie that no one else wanted to see - we were the only ones in the theater. Nothing could have been better. We were able to hold hands and cuddle and kiss without having to worry about being caught, or being given dirty looks. I still have no clue what movie it was, or what happened. I was too busy appreciating the teasing side of my girlfriend, as Mary Jane began to throw an occasional kernel of popcorn at me, until we were in an all-out food fight.

I realized she had really opened up to me, and felt much more relaxed when we were together. She wasn't afraid to reach over and poke me in the side for a smart-ass comment, or lightly tug on my shirt when she was in the mood for a hug… it was nice to know that she was no longer afraid to really be herself. That meant the world to me.

Of course, all good things must come to an end, unfortunately, and Andrew brought about that end. I was heading outside to meet Mary Jane for lunch, thinking of all the fun we'd been having, and debating over whether or not to give her the small trinket I'd found a few days before in the jewelry department. It was just a necklace with a small charm on it in the shape of a rose, but I felt the need to buy it. The only question now was when I should give it to her.

"All right, Bailey. Last chance," stated Andrew, standing before me, startling me out of my rather pleasant thoughts. That fact alone was enough to make me frown.

"What the hell do you want?" I demanded.

"Mary Jane." My eyes narrowed as my temper flared. "I know she's quiet and all, but I'll bring her out of her shell," he sneered.

It was all I could do to keep from dislocating the hips he was thrusting suggestively. That was my girlfriend he was talking about, and he was very lucky I didn't do something irreversible, like kill him.

Instead, I spat, "Stay away from her, Andrew. I mean it. Don't touch her."

He grinned obnoxiously, and I suddenly realized I was surrounded; about a dozen of his friends had closed in around us. "I hear she's kind of shy, Bailey. Maybe all she needs is a really good fuck, you think?"

"Take that back, Turnkey. I'm warning you," I cautioned him, my voice low.

"Oh, come on, Bailey," he chuckled. "I have it on high authority that she's a pretty sweet lay - ask her brother." He leaned closer and whispered, so only I could hear, "I was there, watching. You should have heard her scream."

That did it; I snapped. All the discipline I'd been calling upon to restrain myself flew out the window, and I lunged for him, screaming, "You fucking little shit!" I got a solid punch or two in to his gut before three guys pulled me off, and held my arms.

Cocky as all get out now that he thought I was caught, Andrew walked right up to me, grinning. "I'll tell you what I'll do, Bailey. Just for you, I'll send you a video, how does that sound? So you can watch me fuck her 'til she bleeds."

Bringing my knee up hard between his legs, I hissed, "Rot in hell, you goddamn bastard," as he dropped like a rock. In an instant, they all rushed me, and I still can't recall exactly what happened. It was a blur of hands, fists, elbows, and feet, but I felt my lip split open and had the air knocked out of me twice.

A few minutes passed, maybe not quite that long, I'm not sure, and several teachers entered the fray and pulled us apart. When I saw the damage I'd done, I smiled inwardly. Three had bloody noses, two were holding their hands in pain, and one was still on the ground. Four were nowhere to be seen.

My lip and stomach hurt, but other than that, I was fine.

"What's going on here?" roared Mr. Heath, and I sighed.

"Andrew and I got into a little argument," I stated, heavily.

He looked around, disapprovingly. "And the others?"

"They decided to put their two cents in."

"All of you involved are suspended for two days. Mr. Turnkey and Miss Smith, that's three days for you," the principal decreed, and spun on his heel, leaving the teachers to disperse the crowd and take us into Mr. Heath's office. He didn't have to say anything; we all knew what was expected.

After being grilled for an explanation no one gave, we were released individually to get our things and leave for the rest of the day. Andrew had to stay a bit longer, to make an appointment to see the board, to explain to them why he shouldn't be expelled for all the trouble he'd gotten into; I couldn't think of one damned reason.

Just as I started down the hallway, as fate would have it, I ran into Mary Jane, who'd apparently come searching for me when I didn't meet her under the tree.

She gasped when she saw my lip. "Bailey! What happened?" she asked, lovingly and discreetly taking my hand as she lightly wiped away some of the blood. I'd tried to clean it up in the nurse's office, but it had apparently opened again.

I sighed, my stomach in knots as I ignored her query for the time, and prepared myself to ask a question I never really wanted answered. "Mary Jane, did Damon ever… did he… I mean, did he do anything more than hit you?" I stammered, and watched her green eyes flood with realization.

Quietly, she replied, "No, Bailey, not in so many words." Why didn't that sound good? "He never… touched me in that way, if that's what you mean. But he would -"

I cut her off, gently. "MJ, I need to go, and here is not the place for this. I do want to know," I think, "but later, okay?" I requested, already feeling ill. I really didn't feel like finding out precisely what else Damon had done to the heaven-sent blonde before me, but if she were willing to talk, I'd listen. I'd told her she could always talk to me, about anything, and hard as it would be, I would stand by that promise, by God.

My mention of leaving seemed to remind her something was wrong. "So, what happened to you?"

"Andrew was being an ass, and got us and a couple of other kids suspended."

"Oh, Bailey, you didn't," she breathed. I nodded. "What did he say?"

I shook my head, and refused to tell her. "Listen, I have to leave. I'm suspended for three days, so I won't be at lunch with you until Monday, okay?"

"Bailey, why won't you tell me?" When I shook my head again, she met my gaze. "Was it about me?" she questioned, evenly, knowing the feelings Andrew harbored for her. I looked away, giving her the answer.

"Why?"

I turned my head so our eyes met again. "I will not stand back and let anyone speak badly about any of my friends, and most especially you," I stated. "I warned him, MJ, but he wouldn't quit. I had to do something."

Standing on her tiptoes to give me a gentle hug, I felt all my anger melt away when she placed a soft kiss on my cheek, whispering, "Thank you for protecting me." Pulling back, so as not to linger too long and raise suspicions, she continued, "But I don't like seeing you hurt. Please, go home and rest. You'll feel better if you put ice on your lip, okay?"

I smiled; as best I could, anyhow. "Thank you, MJ. I promise. I'll see you Monday, if not before," I said, wanting so badly to reassure her with a kiss, but knowing I couldn't.

"What are you going to tell your dad?" she asked, quietly, before I turned to go.

"About what?"

"About why you got in a fight," Mary Jane clarified, on the verge of exasperation.

I paused. "I've never lied to my dad before, Mary Jane, and I don't plan to start now," I replied, carefully. I knew she was worried about my dad's acceptance, or lack thereof, of our relationship.

"But, Bailey…"

I reached out and gently ran my fingers through her hair, no longer caring who saw, though I had unconsciously made sure no one was in sight. I knew she liked it, it relaxed her, and I couldn't resist. She instantly fell silent, and I smiled, warmly.

"Easy, sweetheart," I soothed, lowly, not even noticing what I'd called her. "Everything will be okay, don't worry. Now, I really need to head out. You said Damon's going to be out tonight, right? Why don't I call you about five, before I leave for Karate, all right?"

She accepted this, and once again suggested ice for my lip before releasing my hand and letting me go. With a small wave, I grabbed my backpack and took a deep breath as I made my way out to the parking lot, feeling strange going home at only noon.

I drove up into the driveway and threw my Explorer into park, angry again, as Andrew's words echoed ceaselessly in my mind.

"If the coward wouldn't have brought his friends, I'd have kicked his sorry ass until his nose hurt," I growled to myself, absently offering Soda a small pat as I breezed through the doorway, collapsing onto the couch with a heavy sigh.

"I've never been in trouble before, Soda," I said, complaining to my dog, who listened with a sympathetic ear to all I had to say, snorting at my statement. "Okay, so I've gotten in trouble for making a mess of things," I amended, "but not like this. I've never been suspended before."

My dad's voice startled me. "You're suspended?" he cried, coming out from the kitchen, a half-eaten bologna sandwich in his hand. I gulped, audibly, and nodded. "For what?"

"Fighting," I admitted, and he sat down in the chair across from me. "What are you doing home so early?"

He sighed. "I stopped by for lunch, but I've got to be getting back pretty soon. We'll discuss this when I get home, Bailey," he stated, in a no-nonsense tone that left no room for doubt, and I agreed as he walked out the door.

"Well, that's just fucking wonderful," I sighed, and Soda whined disapprovingly at my choice of words. "So much for explaining it to him in my own time. Damn it."

To say I was a nervous wreck is an understatement; I was much more anxious than I thought, apprehensive of my dad's return and therefore the discussion that was sure to follow. I couldn't see him getting too angry, but I could definitely believe he'd be a bit taken aback or even repulsed for a moment. I mean, homosexuals were not very open in our town, so it wasn't as if he had a reason to view it as… well, normal.

So, it was for this reason that the sound of my dad's truck pulling into the garage found me pacing in the living room. I knew Mary Jane was right, and my dad would want to know why I got into a fight, but I also knew I couldn't lie to him about it. After almost three years in high school, I got the feeling that tonight my dad would learn why I'd never brought home any boyfriends.

"Let me clean up a bit, Doc. Then we'll have that talk," he said as he walked down the hall, and I agreed with a nod of my head. Running my hands through my long black hair in anticipation, I idly thought it was time for me to get a small trim.

Just as my knee began bouncing in my nervousness, my dad emerged from the bathroom with a look on his face that told me he wasn't looking forward to our conversation any more than I was… though for completely different reasons, I'm sure.

My dad sat down in the recliner facing me, taking a deep breath as if to collect his thoughts before speaking. "You've never been one to get into trouble, Bailey, but suddenly you're suspended for fighting. Why?" he asked, and I got the distinct impression that he felt he was somehow at fault.

"Dad… it was just something that I felt I had to do."

"Was it over a boy?" he questioned, and I snorted.

"No."

He grinned a little, only trying to lighten the atmosphere, I'm sure. "Was it over a girl?" I said nothing, but met his gaze, the look in my eyes and my silence giving him my answer.

Shifting a little nervously in his seat, he continued, "Why don't you tell me what happened?"

I sighed. "Do you remember Mary Jane?" I began, and my dad nodded. "And do you remember how I'd always tell you we were going to the movies to hang out?" Again, he nodded. "I've never lied to you before, dad, and like I told Mary Jane, I'm not going to start now. Mary Jane and I did go to the movies, but we went on a date. We're together, dad."

"You mean as a couple?" he clarified, and I nodded.

I decided to tell him everything. "We have been for about a month now, and today one of the guys at school decided to tell me he wanted to go out with her so he could… well, do some not so nice things to her," I snarled, remembering exactly what had been said.

"I tried to get him to stop, but when he began throwing around some very degrading terms, I had to make him quit. I'll admit that I took the first swing, but he provoked me, and Mr. Heath stopped us before I could do too much damage to him or his friends," I explained, evenly.

"His friends? They ganged up on you?" he demanded, and I nodded.

"Yeah, there were at least a half-dozen of them with him," I confirmed.

"Why didn't you tell me about Mary Jane earlier?"

"I was worried about how you'd react… and I still am," I confessed, honestly. "I mean, not that I think you'd disown me," I assured him, thinking of Mary Jane's parents' reaction. "I just figured you'd be upset."

With a small smile, my dad shook his head at me. "Bailey, these last few months, I've watched you go through a change for the better. You've started going out more, smiling and laughing more, and just being happier all the way around. And if Mary Jane is the cause, then I'm happy for you.

"All I want is for you to be happy, sweetheart, and if that means being with Mary Jane, then so be it."

"Thanks, Dad," I breathed, relieved.

"I do have one slight problem, however."

I became mildly alarmed. "What?"

My dad gave me an impish half-smirk as he cocked an eyebrow. "Well, I've always thought I'd have to warn the guys to be good to my daughter, but now I guess I'll have to let the girls know that I'll hunt them down if they hurt my baby girl. On the other hand, I don't have to worry about you getting pregnant if you stay out late on a date," he chuckled, and my eyes bulged.

"Dad!" I cried, and he laughed heartily at my stunned expression. When he beckoned me over for a hug, I eagerly complied, feeling extremely relieved to know my dad accepted my lifestyle.

"How about inviting Mary Jane over for dinner? I'd like to let her know I know, so she won't worry," he offered, kindly, and I agreed.

"I was going to call her before I left, anyhow. As long as there's no embarrassing talks, Dad," I cautioned.

His eyes squinted as he laughed again. "Hey, no promises, Bailey! Just invite her, will you? I'll cook steaks on the grill, and you can pick her up after your Karate practice." After a pause, he continued, "Doc, do I want to know what the kid said that set you off?"

My reply was immediate. "No," I stated, as I dialed Mary Jane's number, and waited patiently for her to pick up.

"Wilcox residence," she greeted, and I smiled at the sound of her voice.

"Hi, MJ."

"Hello." Her short and even answer told me she was not alone, and so was unable to say my name. In the few times I'd called, I'd gotten used to it.

"What are you doing for dinner tonight?" I questioned, and she was quiet for a moment. "Is Damon there?"

"Yes," she replied, and I sighed.

That just sucked. "Will he be leaving anytime soon? Say, by seven o'clock or so?" was my next inquiry, and the young woman responded that it was a very real possibility. "Would you like to come have dinner over here with me and my dad?"

I could almost hear the wheels turning in her head as she considered my request. "Yes, but I don't know…"

I interrupted her, softly. "Do you think you could get out of there at seven-thirty? I could pick you up when I get out of class," I suggested, and she sighed into the phone.

"You don't have to," I murmured, taking the breath as a sign of reluctance.

"No, I do!" she protested, before I could continue. "Yes, that will be fine." I assumed Damon was in the room, or nearby, so she couldn't say anything more.

I understood. "Okay, MJ. I'll see you at seven-thirty, then, all right?" When she agreed, I hung up, and told my dad to expect us about a quarter 'til eight. I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek as I walked out the door, duffel bag in hand.

I was not the least bit surprised when Sensei Moorland pulled me aside after class. I knew what she was going to say - the looks she'd been shooting at me all night spoke volumes in and of themselves. I stood obediently at attention as I prepared to be scolded.

"What happened to you?"

"I got in a fight," I admitted, knowing she was not going to be happy at the news.

An eyebrow was raised slightly - damn, I didn't know she could do that! "Since when do we solve our problems with fists?"

I swallowed. "I didn't want to, Sensei, but words were the problem, and I tried to control myself for as long as I could. Eventually, I just snapped," I explained.

Now the look she was giving me told me she not only believed my story, but that I had also piqued her interest. "Can you tell me what was said that caused you to lose your self-control?" was her next question.

I felt my eyes harden and my jaw tense as I unconsciously straightened, Andrew's words once again assaulting my senses. I shook my head. "Ea, Sensei," I told her, firmly. No.

"Was it about your mother?" Nancy knew how much I held my mother in high regard, but I replied in the negative. "Then who?"

Oh, what the hell, I thought. Although no one was around, I spoke quietly, "My girlfriend," and met her gaze for the first time since she'd made the move to talk to me in private.

The woman nodded, knowingly. "Mary Jane." She chuckled at my surprised expression. "You've never wondered why a thirty-eight-year-old woman like myself was never married, Bailey? While I'm happy you've found someone you obviously care about, fighting is always the last resort, understand?"

Still a bit in shock, I nodded, quietly. "Hai, Sensei," I agreed, and then she waved me off to go change. I changed back into my regular clothes as quick as I could, and then jumped into my Explorer, hoping I wouldn't be too late in picking up Mary Jane.

I was surprised when I pulled up at 7:34 and Mary Jane was nowhere to be seen. I didn't want to walk up and knock on the door, just in case Damon was still there, and I was ready to go home and call her when the front door opened.

"I'm sorry," she said, as she climbed into the passenger side. "I was finishing some things up on the computer."

I smiled, and leaned over to lightly kiss her lips, ignoring the slight pain it caused. "That's all right," I assured her, and backed out of the driveway.

"You told him?" Mary Jane asked in a quiet voice, and I nodded. "And…?"

Seeing the trepidation in her eyes, I reached out and gently squeezed her hand as I said, "And he accepts it."

I'm not sure she believed me at first. "Really?" I can't say that I blamed her; after the experiences she'd had, I'd be a little skeptical of a positive response, too.

"Yes, really," I confirmed. "In fact, he's the one who suggested you come to dinner tonight. I think he wants to talk to you," I added, and watched her emerald eyes widen. "He's not angry, sweetheart, I promise."

The fear left, and she tilted her head at me, almost curiously. "That's the second time you've called me that," she pointed out, and I froze when I realized what she was talking about.

Damn, I didn't even know I was saying it! I panicked.

"I… I'm sorry, MJ. I won't call you that if you don't want me to," I told her, quietly, concentrating solely on the road in front of me.

I felt small fingers curl around my own. "I like it, Bailey," she whispered, and my heart began to beat again; rather rapidly, in fact. The silly grin didn't leave my face until we arrived at my house and I sensed the blonde's growing nervousness.

"Bailey?" came a small voice, and I turned to her, concerned.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

Tears filled her green eyes. "What if you're wrong?" Mary Jane's simple question pulled at my heart, and I drew her into a strong hug. "What if he's mad, like… like my parents and Damon?" she continued, speaking into my T-shirt.

"Mary Jane, he said he accepts us. I trust him, and I don't believe he'd change his mind," I explained softly. "If you're really worried, I can turn around right now. You don't have to be here if you're not comfortable, you know that."

She nodded. "I know. Can… will you stay with me?" she asked, and I didn't hesitate.

"Of course," I agreed. "Are you ready?" When, after taking a deep breath, Mary Jane nodded, I gave her a small smile. "It'll be okay, sweetheart. Come on." Tempted as I was to grasp her hand, or even put my arm around her, I had to settle for placing my hand at the small of her back - as much as I loved my dad for his open-mindedness, I didn't want to push it by making him uncomfortable by being too close to Mary Jane… for as long as I could help it, anyway.

As soon as we walked through the door, I could smell the sauces my dad was using on the steaks, and my mouth began to water. Catching a small rumble coming from Mary Jane's direction, I grinned at her, and she blushed at her stomach's response to the aroma. With a sinking heart, I suddenly remembered that I had left before lunch, so Mary Jane had gone without my contribution to her meal - no wonder she was hungry!

"Time to eat, girls!" my dad called from the kitchen, and I urged the smaller woman ahead of me with an encouraging nod.

As Mary Jane took a seat at the table, I moved towards my dad, under the guise of retrieving a few glasses from the cupboard, and whispered lowly, "She's really nervous, dad. Please be nice."

He nodded, and smiled at me, bringing the pot of steamed vegetables over to the table, adding the salt and pepper before deciding everything was ready. Motioning for me to sit next to the blonde, I happily obeyed, and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze under the table.

"Before we eat," my father began, making me pause; I'd been reaching for the steaks, but brought my fork back to my plate, empty. "Before we eat, I'd like to say something to Mary Jane."

I winced. Not a good way to start, dad! I thought, seeing the green eyes widen.

"Thank you."

The blonde looked startled.

"Thank you," continued Darryl, "for making my daughter so happy. I haven't seen her this relaxed in a long time, and I know now that you're the reason she's been laughing and smiling more. There is nothing in this world that means more to me than Bailey's happiness, and if she is happy with you, then I stand behind you both 110 percent," he finished, with a smile. "Anyone who says any different will have to answer to me."

With tears in her eyes, I watched, concerned, as Mary Jane pushed her chair back and got to her feet. "I'm sorry," she murmured, fleeing from the kitchen and down the hallway. Looking to my dad, who looked just as worried as I was, he nodded his assent, and I ran after her.

I found her in my room, curled up on my bed, clutching at a stuffed animal of Bugs Bunny that normally resided on my dresser.

"Mary Jane?" I asked, softly, sitting beside her. "Sweetheart, what is it?"

When she shook her head, and refused to talk to me, I gently but firmly pulled her up into a sitting position, and wrapped my arms around her. Eventually, she placed her arms around my waist, crying into my shoulder.

"Why the tears, MJ?"

"I was… I was just thinking about m-my parents," she sniffled, and I lightly kissed the crown of her head.

"Your dad is so nice, Bailey… he really does accept us. You're so lucky. Why couldn't my parents be the same way?" she asked. "What did I do?"

I sighed heavily, and stroked her hair. "You didn't do anything, sweetheart; it's not your fault, okay? I don't know why your parents reacted like they did, but I'm sorry for it. You know that my dad accepts us, so you'll always be welcome here." I tried to let her know that she was safe with my dad and I, but I knew the fact that her family didn't accept her would always be hurtful. I couldn't expect it to be any different, but I sure wished it didn't have to be that way; I hated to see her upset.

"Are you up to finishing dinner?" I questioned gently, and she nodded. Helping her to her feet, I led her down the hallway with my arm around her shoulders.

My dad stood when he saw us return, and didn't seem to be bothered at all by the fact that we were so close - that was good.

"Are you all right?" he asked Mary Jane, kindly, and she nodded.

"Yes, thank you," she replied, taking her seat after I'd pulled the chair out for her.

Darryl chuckled at this, and gave me an amused look. "I must say she brings out your manners," he stated, and I rolled my eyes as Mary Jane smiled a little.

"Actually, dad, I think you're right - Mary Jane does bring out the best in me," I grinned, managing to make her blush a bit.

Dinner went rather well after that, and I was glad to see Mary Jane eat a good-sized steak and two helpings of vegetables. I hoped that meant if she got in trouble and, for whatever reason, wasn't able to eat a meal or two at home, she wouldn't be quite as hungry. As long as she was with me, at any rate, I'd do my best to make sure she was well taken care of.

It was the least I could do until I got her out of there. And I was going to get her out of that house - somehow, I had to.

After we'd finished our meal, and I'd helped my dad clear the table, I followed Mary Jane to my room, the look she was giving me telling me she wanted to talk. Recalling our conversation earlier in the day that I'd interrupted, I felt my stomach grow cold. I had a feeling she was going to discuss the things Damon had done, and that didn't sit well with me.

Sitting down on my bed, I joined her, and when I caught her fiddling with an ear of the Bugs Bunny character she'd hugged before, I gently took it out of her hands and laid it aside. Then, slipping her hands inside my own, I ducked my head until our eyes met.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, MJ," I assured her, quietly. "I'm here if you want to talk, but I don't want you to feel like you have to."

She nodded, and took a deep breath. "He never touched me like you said, but… but he would try to make me see what I was missing by not having a man in my life. He and his friends would sit in the living room and masturbate, and… if I didn't watch, he'd get angry and beat me. He thought it would show me what I was lacking. He hasn't done that in a while, though. Now he just gets angry."

I swallowed, hard, stomach churning and my mind full of rage. I had a sick taste in the back of my throat, and I wanted nothing more than to choke the life out of the little bastard that would do such a thing. To make her watch…

"But he never… with you…?"

She shook her head. "No, Bailey. I promise, he never did anything like that with me," she said, evenly, and I took a deep, shuddering breath. That didn't make it a whole lot better, but at least I knew he hadn't violated her any worse than that. I know if she'd have told me he'd done it, I would have been over there in a heartbeat, and then I'd end up in jail for murder. There would be no way around it.

Thank God it didn't come to that.

"I'm so sorry," I muttered, drawing her close to me. I think it ended up that she was comforting me more than I was her, but I had a feeling she felt a little better just being able to tell someone, to get it off her chest. She didn't have to hold anything in anymore; she didn't have to deal with anything alone ever again. I doubted she'd ever had that chance before, and I could only hope it helped.

I drove her home not long after that, but I couldn't get it out of my mind. I was gripping the steering wheel so tight my hands were turning white, and I had to flex them before I lost circulation. I think Mary Jane knew what I was thinking about, because she was also quiet, but I stopped her before she could exit the car, placing my hand on her arm, gentle but firm.

"Mary Jane, promise me that if anything like that ever happens again that you'll call me. I'll be here immediately to take you away from all this. Please, promise me," I pleaded, my voice hoarse.

"Bailey…"

"Promise me!"

Looking down, she whispered, "I can't," and made a hasty exit.

I sat in front of her house for a few minutes, taking slow, deep breaths until I was sure I was calm enough to drive. How could she sit there and not promise me? Why wouldn't she promise me? Damn it! I was so upset by the sudden turn of events that I took the long way home, and went straight to bed without so much as a "good night" to my dad.

Once there, I stared at the ceiling until I could see Mary Jane's face in it, trying to figure out what reason she could possibly have for refusing to promise me. It was a simple request - I only wanted to help her! To know what was going on, and not have her word that she'd call me if she needed help… that really bothered me.

My sleep that night was filled with images of Damon and all the things he'd done to my wonderful, beautiful, intelligent, gentle girlfriend. I awoke feeling nauseas, and came to the decision at two in the morning that I was going to take her away from there. Even if she didn't want to go, goddamn it, I couldn't just stand by and let her stay.

I was getting her out of that house and that's all there was to it.

Or so I thought.

CHAPTER TWELVE

I was suspended, and therefore I wasn't supposed to be on campus, but I didn't care. I was in the parking lot ten minutes before the first bell, and waited impatiently for Mary Jane to arrive. Sure enough, five minutes later, I saw a blue Honda drive up, and watched the small blonde step out.

When I was sure Damon was gone, I hurried to catch up to her, and drew her aside, startling her.

"Bailey!" she cried. "What are you doing here?"

"I can't let you stay there, Mary Jane. Please, say you'll let me get you away from there," I began, but she shook her head.

"You don't understand, Bailey, I can't go with you."

"Why not?" I demanded. "If I explain to my dad, I'm sure -"

"No!" Her response was fierce. "Please, don't say anything to your dad, Bailey. Please. Just let it go."

I frowned. "This is not something I can just forget about, Mary Jane! You shouldn't have to go through that," I insisted, but she looked away. "I can get you out of there! You don't have to be where he can hurt you!"

"I don't want you to get involved in all this, Bailey," she sighed, and I rolled my eyes.

"MJ, you've told me that before, but I can't not get involved. This concerns you, and that means it's my problem, too," I explained. "Come with me."

"No."

"How can you say that? How can you want to stay there with him?"

Green eyes blazed into my stern blue gaze. "It's not that I want to stay, Bailey, it's just that I can't leave. He's told me before that if I ever left, he'd find me, and hurt whoever it was that lured me away," she told me, tears in her eyes. "I don't want anything to happen to you!"

"I don't care about what happens to me!"

"I do!"

I was getting nowhere. "Please, MJ, please let me get you away from there. I hate the thought of him…" my voice trailed off as my tongue felt thick, and the sick feeling came back. "Just let me help you."

"Bailey, you are helping…"

"I'm not!" I cried. "I'm not because you're still getting hurt!"

"Bailey…" she began again, but I shook my head, cutting her off.

"Don't," I stated, harshly. "Just forget I asked, okay?" My anger and worry getting the best of me, I stalked off, slamming the door as I climbed into my Explorer. With a sigh, I drove home, and spent the rest of the day working myself into a sweat. I worked out until I was near exhaustion, trying to get rid of my anger that way, but failing.

When I was too tired and weak to continue with that outlet, I grabbed quick bite to eat, and turned to the garage. My dad was home by this time, so I told him I was going to give his truck a tune-up. He must have sensed my mood, because he didn't question my sweat-soaked T-shirt, nor my sudden need to work under the hood.

Changing his oil and making sure his transmission fluid was level, I put water in the radiator, and then moved on to my car.

By this time my hands were moving automatically - my mind was stuck on the image of Mary Jane, standing before me with tears in her eyes. Tears that I had caused. Now I felt like a real ass. Instead of taking the time to talk to her, and reason with her, I had cornered her and gotten upset when things hadn't gone like I'd planned. I'd acted like a royal jerk, and we'd had our first real fight - I didn't count the one the week before because my facts had been a little skewed. Now, even though I knew exactly what was going on, I felt horrible.

Checking the amount of oil, I was seriously considering driving over there to apologize, or at least call her. I had to ask her to forgive me for being so insensitive - I'm sure she didn't like having to go through all that, and if I had only listened, she would have given me a good reason for staying.

"Bailey." The noise startled me, and I spun around, my blue eyes taking in the rather disheveled form of Mary Jane.

Wiping my hands on the machinist's rag I took out of my back pocket, I asked, "What are you doing here?"

Green eyes filled with tears, and any attempt on my part to be firm went down the drain. "I - I'm sorry, Bailey. I don't want you to be mad at me. I know you just want to help, but I don't want you to get in trouble, and Damon would be upset if I left," she explained, softly. "I'm sorry."

Any thoughts of anger over our fight flew from my head when I saw the tears in her eyes, and for the life of me I couldn't remember what we were arguing about. All that mattered to me was that Mary Jane was upset.

"Oh, baby, come here," I urged, opening my arms, holding her tightly, neither of us caring at the moment that I was covered in grease. "I'm not mad at you, really I'm not. I guess I'm just frustrated at this whole situation. You know I only want to do what's best for you, right?"

The blonde nodded against my chest, and I pulled back a little so I could wipe away a few errant tears that had managed to fall.

"I'm sorry I acted like such an ass this morning," I told her. "I shouldn't have cornered you like that. I was just worried about you."

She smiled a little. "I know," she sighed. "But I'm sorry we got in a fight."

I nodded. "So am I, sweetheart, believe me," I agreed, lightly kissing the top of her head.

"Bugs?"

I grinned, involuntarily. "What?"

Her nose wrinkled as she looked at me and the black oil on my shirt. "I hate to say this, but you smell," she stated with a smile, and I raised an eyebrow at her, waving the dirty machinist's rag in her direction. She squealed, and laughed as she ran around the garage, me chasing her, never far behind.

Eventually, I ducked in front of the hood where she couldn't see me, and waited for her to wander closer. When she did, I grabbed her by the waist, slowly pulling her back into my body until I could wrap my arms around her middle.

I smiled when she willingly leaned her head against my shoulder, laying her hands over my own, holding them in place. Turning slightly in my arms, I closed my eyes as our lips met, and came to my second decision of the day: making up was a hell of a lot better than fighting.

"An earthquake couldn't separate you two," came a voice, and we jumped apart, embarrassed when we realized my dad had walked in on us. "I knocked and called your name three times," he grinned. "I guess this means you'll be in a better mood, Bailey? After a kiss like that, I sure would be!"

I groaned, and leaned my forehead against Mary Jane's shoulder. "Dad…" I growled, not finding the growing heat in my cheeks at all amusing.

My girlfriend, however, was looking at me with mirth in her emerald eyes. "You do look pretty cute in pink, Bugs," she commented, and I glared at her. Then, realizing I still had my arms around her waist, I began tickling her sides until she was laughing too hard to gasp out apologies.

Letting her regain her breath, I glanced up to see that my dad had left, and chuckled lightly, holding Mary Jane once more. Just then, a thought struck me - I would give her the necklace now. And I knew why.

"Hey, I have something for you," I told her, and asked her to close her eyes. With an anticipatory smile, she did as I asked, and I got the box out of my backseat. Taking out the necklace, I placed it in her hand, and then told her, "Okay, open your eyes."

Looking down at the gift, she gasped, examining the charm carefully. "Oh, Bailey, it's beautiful," she murmured, and I gently took it from her.

"May I?" I questioned, and she nodded. Stepping behind her, I fastened the clasp, and smiled when I realized the chain was the perfect length. The rose rested just above her heart.

"I figure that if I can't physically be with you all the time, you can keep this, and think of me," I explained, softly. "Anytime you need me, just remember that the rose is next to your heart - I'll always be with you. And if you ever want me there, all you have to do is call, and I'll come as soon as I can. I promise. I want to take care of you, sweetheart, but I also want you to know that I will stand beside you in whatever you decide to do," I concluded, honestly. I knew I wouldn't always understand everything she did, but I would do my best to support her.

She threw her arms around my neck. "Thank you," she whispered, and lightly kissed my jaw, sending tingles down my spine, almost like a chill or the goose bumps, but much warmer.

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" I offered, but she shook her head.

"I told Damon I was only going to the library. I should be getting back," she sighed.

"I'll take you home…" The look in her eyes made me pause, and I instantly remembered that I couldn't do that anymore - it only got her in trouble. "How'd you get here?"

"I took the bus."

I nodded, accepting this. "Then I'll at least walk with you down to the bus stop," I told her, and she seemed pleased by the compromise. We talked idly as we walked side-by-side, finding it difficult not to be even closer. I knew if anyone saw us holding hands or hugging or kissing, they probably wouldn't approve, and that sucked. I mean, love is love, and who were they to think they could judge the decisions of the heart?

"Thank you for walking with me, Bugs," smiled Mary Jane, drawing me from my thoughts, and I grinned as I leaned down to give her a quick hug.

"Anytime, sweetheart," I assured her. "I'll see you Sunday for the movies?"

"Absolutely," she promised. Taking the rose in her hand, she winked, conveying the heartfelt message we were unable to express physically, and climbed onto the bus. I watched her go until they turned the corner, and then began the long walk home.

* * * * *

My dad insisted on Mary Jane arriving early on Sunday so we could have lunch, and I was glad to see that she seemed more at ease with him. He'd catch me staring at her and give me a knowing smirk, apparently pleased by the flush that often came to my cheeks. I don't know why he found such pleasure in embarrassing me so easily, but I was just glad he accepted my lifestyle, and took the teasing good-naturedly.

After lunch, we decided on a movie, but had almost an hour before the next showing began. Darryl, God bless him, suddenly decided we needed milk. Desperately. And maybe he'd wait while they milked the cow for him, to make sure it was fresh enough. Finally, I just thanked him for giving Mary Jane and I some time alone, and pushed him out the door before he could make an even bigger fool of himself.

"That's him being subtle," I chuckled, shaking my head as I sat on the couch, smiling fondly at my father.

"Bailey?" asked Mary Jane, after a period of silence, and I glanced up, hearing music softly play from the radio she'd been fiddling with.

Uh-oh. Music wasn't a good sign… even if it was country.

"Hm?" I replied, although I had a pretty good idea of what she wanted.

"Will you dance with me?"

With a sigh, I shook my head.

"Please?"

"Sweetheart, you don't understand - I'm a klutz. Trying to get me to dance is like telling my dad to have a baby. It just ain't gonna happen," I told her, gently, and while she smiled at my analogy, she didn't seem to accept my answer.

"Please?" She was moving closer to me, now.

I shook my head again. "Sorry." Truth of the matter was, I just didn't want to embarrass myself in front of my girlfriend.

"Bailey…" Oh, God, she was pouting… and those eyes… Christ, now what could I do? I was trapped! "Please…"

I'm an oak, I thought, firmly.

"No."

"Bugs…"

Aw, damn, not the nickname! "Huh-uh. I don't dance." That's it, be strong like the oak!

"Just one dance," she bargained, and I closed my eyes to try to escape the absolutely irresistible expression on her face. "Please." A gentle kiss to my lips. "Dance with me, Bugs." Another kiss. "For me?"

Screw the oak! I decided. The oak didn't have to stand up against the most beautiful pair of emerald eyes this side of heaven, and the voice of an angel. If it did, it would've broken like a first year's sapling.

"Only for you," I sighed, allowing her to take me by the hand and pull me to my feet. Dragging me into the living room, she put my hands on her waist and wrapped her arms around my neck, smiling gently when I tripped. Focusing hard, I kept stumbling or stepping on her feet, and considered calling it quits.

That's why I didn't dance very often; I knew I made a fool of myself.

"I can't do this," I growled, already frustrated.

"Yes, you can. Just get closer."

Oh, why didn't she just say so? I can do closer.

Moving in until the only thing separating us was practically the threads of our clothes, she continued, "Good. Now, don't just listen to the music, feel it. Feel the beat, the rhythm. Move with it."

Trying to do as she said, I eventually closed my eyes and folded her into my arms, finding that dancing wasn't as hard as it seemed. When you've got the right partner, of course. Holding her close, wrapped in the smell of her hair and the feel of her head on my shoulder, we danced to Shania Twain's You've Got a Way. The words seemed to fit perfectly.

You've got a way with me

Somehow you got me to believe

In everything that I could be

I've gotta say - you really got a way

You've got a way it seems

You gave me faith to find my dreams

You'll never know just what that means

Can't you see… you got a way with me

It's in the way you want me

It's in the way you hold me

The way you show me just what love's made of

It's in the way we make love

You've got a way with words

You get me smiling even when it hurts

There's no way to measure what your love is worth

I can't believe the way you get through to me

It's in the way you want me

It's in the way you hold me

The way you show me just what love's made of

It's in the way we make love

Oh, how I adore you

Like no one before you

I love you just the way you are

It's in the way you want me

It's in the way you hold me

The way you show me just what love's made of

It's in the way we make love

It's just the way you are

It was an amazing feeling. Standing there, with Mary Jane practically as physically close to me as possible, hearing the music play and taking the words to heart, I felt as though I could protect her from anything. With the small woman in my arms, there was nothing I couldn't do.

Once the song was over, and a song with a faster beat began playing, I leaned down and gently kissed her. One kiss turned into several, and I reluctantly stopped before my hand went any place other than her waist.

Pulling back, I happened to glance behind her, towards the front door, and was forced to ask the question that had been on my mind since she'd arrived. "Mary Jane, why did you bring your backpack?"

She paused, as if only remembering she'd brought it with her. "No reason," she muttered, and I sighed.

"Sweetheart…"

"I… I just brought my art book along, in case you wanted to see my drawings. But they're not very good, and I understand if you don't," she continued, quickly, and I smiled.

"I would love to see your work, MJ!" I exclaimed, honestly excited. Slowly, she retrieved her art pad, shyly handing it to me. Taking her hand, I urged her to sit beside me on the couch, and opened to the first page. It was a sketch of a cat, or a kitten more than likely, sitting on top of a garbage can in a yard, cleaning itself. Although not in color, only pencil, the detail was unbelievable.

"That's my cat, Socks," she explained, quietly. "It was one of the first sketches I did of something in real life." Nodding, I kept my thoughts to myself, and turned to the next page.

There, a realistic picture of a butterfly stared back at me, the small insect perched on a petal of a flower.

"It landed while I was finishing my picture of Socks," Mary Jane supplied.

We sat like that for about a half-hour, me flipping through the pages, Mary Jane explaining each one. When I'd seen the last drawing, which happened to be a sketch of Bugs Bunny, I closed the book quietly, and handed it back to the blonde.

She bit her lip, awaiting my response.

I was trying to formulate the right words. It took a lot to make me speechless, but that book of sketches had done it. I couldn't believe that anyone could do anything that realistic without having a camera. My girlfriend had a rare talent, that was for sure.

When I finally realized my silence was probably scaring her, I smiled and said, "Sweetheart, that was incredible! You're an excellent artist."

She smiled a little. "You're just saying that…"

I paused, and raised an eyebrow at her. I figured her brother had probably told her they were awful, but what did he know? I certainly didn't feel the same way. "Are you calling me a liar?" I questioned, and she shook her head. "Okay, then. Like I said, you're an excellent artist. Don't let anyone tell you different, all right?"

"Okay." Glancing up at the clock, I declared it was time to go to the movie if we didn't want to be late, and Mary Jane repacked her art book.

* * * * *

Returning to school on Monday was quite an experience… I was given angry looks from the other kids involved, and those who had been on the receiving end of the bullies' fists a time or two gave me a grateful smile. I assumed them being suspended and getting some of their own medicine had perhaps knocked some sense into them.

At lunch, however, I walked outside to find a beautiful blonde smiling up at me, obviously pleased to see me.

"Good to have you back, Bugs," she grinned, and I smiled.

"Thanks." For all the harsh looks I'd been thrown and pain I'd felt as I healed, just seeing her smile and knowing I'd somehow managed to protect her honor made it all worth it. I'd do it all over again if it meant keeping her safe.

"How do you feel?" The look in her emerald eyes told me she was truly worried, and I gave her a warm smile.

"I'm fine, MJ, thank you. Hey, who's up for a bologna sandwich?" I offered, and enjoyed lunch with my girlfriend - something I hadn't realized I'd missed until I wasn't able to do it. Being suspended from school didn't really do anything to me in the forms of punishment for fighting; but being away from Mary Jane… that was hard. I missed her more than I thought I should have for only a few days.

A few of my teachers had made the comment of letting me make up the assignments I'd missed. While that wasn't a usual practice, if they were willing to give me the option, I sure wasn't going to pass it up. The only catch was, I had to clear it with the principal. I made a mental note to talk to Mr. Heath about it the next day.

Mr. Heath begrudgingly said he'd let me make up the work. But that wasn't all I learned during that visit to the principal's office… I stumbled out of there, stunned. It wasn't until the following day that I'd come to the conclusion that I wasn't dreaming - I had really seen what I thought I'd seen.

I needed to talk to Mary Jane. I had to talk to someone about what happened, and my girlfriend was my first choice.

With a light sigh, I sat down beside the blonde at lunch on Wednesday, and turned to face her, as she gave me a concerned look.

"MJ, I need to talk to you," I began.

"Bailey, what is it?"

"Well, you know how it's been on the news about all those embezzlements going on, right?"

She nodded. "There hasn't been for a while, but there used to be," she commented.

"Yeah. I think I know who did it."

Her green eyes widened. "Who?"

"Mr. Heath," I stated.

"The princip-"

I put my hand over her mouth before she could finish the word, hissing, "Tell the whole world, why don't you?" in my panic that someone would overhear. Glancing around, it didn't look like anyone had paid any attention, and I kicked myself when I saw the expression of pure apology on her face.

Damn it, Bailey! I cursed myself. You know Damon wasn't very nice to her mental state either, and you probably just went and scared her. You can't yell at her!

"Shit, Mary Jane, I'm sorry," I said, honestly. I felt terrible. "I didn't mean to yell at you, sweetheart. I'm just a little anxious right now."

She shook her head, and took a deep breath. "No, I need to get over it, Bailey," she assured me. "I'm okay. Do you really think it was Mr. Heath?"

Giving her a quick glance, I responded, "Yeah, I do. Look, I was sitting there, waiting outside his office…"

"Again?" she cut me off, and I paused, sparing her a mock growl.

"Yes, again," I smirked, rolling my eyes, and she smiled. "I told you I was going to talk to him about maybe getting some of my assignments in that I missed while I was suspended. I mean, I know it's not school policy, but a few of my teachers were willing, so I decided to ask him about it.

"Anyway, I was sitting there, and the secretary said I could see him after he got off the phone. It was after school, and I'd already been there about a half hour, so I was almost ready to leave, when she said the light went off on the display of her phone, meaning his call had ended, and I could go in.

"I walked in and sat down at the chair in front of his desk, because I didn't see him in the office, so I guess he wasn't expecting her to send me in right away. I sat there for a few minutes before I got bored, and you know me, when I get bored, I have to find something to read. I saw a file open on his desk, and I really didn't mean to snoop, but I started just skimming over it.

"There were a bunch of long ID numbers, like bank accounts," I told her. "If the commas and decimals were right, he had over eleven million dollars in each of them, and there were about five of them listed.

"Anyhow, I heard him talking, so I sat back down. He must have been on a cell phone, because he was talking kind of loud and his secretary didn't show him on his line. I could only hear his side of the conversation, but this is what he said:

"'No, I told you, they're on the computer at the warehouse. I don't keep them here; what do you think I am, stupid?' In my mind, I was wholeheartedly agreeing, but… 'Look… no… all right, yeah, Friday night. Friday night, we'll go for it.

"'Nobody suspects a thing, I'm telling you. I'm a high school principal for Christ's sake! No one knows, I promise. Everything's done Friday night, and then it'll be over with, right? Right? You told me this was the last time! Goddamn it, it's all over the news! Our attempts at…'

"And then me, being the klutz that I am, I knocked the paperweight off his desk. I heard him say, 'Listen, I've got to go. I'll call you later. Yeah, okay. Take care of this!' So then I didn't hear anymore, and he came in, and we discussed my assignments, but I don't think he suspects that I heard anything. I really don't. He was kind of upset that I was in there, but I told him the secretary sent me in, and I said I'd only been in about ten seconds. I think he bought it.

"Listen, Mary Jane, if this is true, then he's part of the embezzlers! He's with the ones that have been taking all the money," I explained, urgently. He had to have others with him, because money had been disappearing from businesses all over; banks, schools, large department stores like Wal-Mart, and even my dad's work had lost money.

"But, why would he…?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "The money? Maybe he's working for somebody? I don't know. You know what else I saw? Receipts. Receipts for things like a 72'' TV. What is a high school principal going to do with a 72'' TV for crying out loud? That's freaking huge! He made numerous purchases over five and even ten thousand dollars; I think he was buying cars and pools and things like that. Paid in cash, if I'm not mistaken.

"Plus, there was stuff in there for that new car he's been driving - the Mercedes. And teachers don't even make that kind of money. Not even administrators make enough to do that. So he has to be the one; where else could he be getting that kind of money?"

"Maybe his wife works?" suggested Mary Jane, making me realize just how wonderful she was, to try to see the good in everyone.

"He's not married. Listen, MJ, if this is true, we need to find out."

"So, we go to the police."

"Mary Jane, I'm barely seventeen," I reminded her. "It'll be my word of what I read against his; a high school principal for five years, and a teacher for seven years before that. He's well distinguished in this town; no one's going to go against him. I need to do this myself.

"But he mentioned that it was on a computer." The blonde looked at me; she knew what I was thinking at that point. "I need your help… can you go with me?"

"I don't know, Bailey…"

"Look, he said it was Friday night - that's only the day after tomorrow. Can you get out, say, about nine o'clock?"

She paused. "Well, I suppose I could…"

"I'll pick you up. Listen, I remember something no one else in this town really knows about. When I was a kid, I was always messing around, trying to find new things to do and new ways to get in trouble. I found a tunnel that I was always hanging out in, and did some research a little while ago to figure out just what I was playing with - it was an old, old sewage drain. I didn't know because it didn't smell that bad anymore, so I didn't notice it.

"The city closed it down about twenty years or so ago and had to build another one, because it was beginning to mix with the water supply, and people were getting sick. Rather than get sued, they shut it down and built a new one with better drainage.

"But the tunnels are still there, and I know how to get in. One of the tunnels runs directly under the abandoned warehouse a few miles from here - it's the only warehouse in town they could be using," I explained.

"We can get in those tunnels, get underneath the building, get into the warehouse, get the records from his computer, copy them or whatever, and then get out of there before anyone knows we were there."

Mary Jane still seemed unsure of my plan. "Shouldn't we tell your dad, or the police, or…?"

"Not unless we get some hard evidence… without that, no one will believe us. No cop is going to follow two teenage kids who have a hunch. And Mr. Heath has always been on my case, for as long as I can remember. He's always been against me, and I don't know why, but this is my one chance to figure out what he's doing.

"Will you help me?"

The small woman was quiet for so long I wasn't sure she was going to answer, and if she did, I was sure it was going to be 'no'.

Finally, she looked at me, and said, "Where you go, I go."

I broke out into a relieved smile, and wanted nothing more than to kiss her, but remembered just in time that we were in school. That phrase meant so much more to me than just her agreement to help on Friday night.

"Thanks, sweetheart," I whispered. "Look, I'll talk to you later," I said, as the bell rang, "but Friday night at nine o'clock you be out front, okay?"

She nodded. "I'll do my best, Bugs," she promised, and I grinned, helping her to her feet as I walked her to class.

For the rest of the day, and the time leading up to the end of the day on Friday, I could only think of how many different ways my plan could go wrong. Little did I know, the one possibility I didn't envision had the best chance of becoming reality.

* * * * *

I told dad Mary Jane and I were going to hang out together, which wasn't exactly a lie, and I told Jerry I had to take the night off to take care of some personal things, and while he didn't seem too pleased, he let me go. I hated lying to my boss, but I couldn't very well tell him the truth, either.

I could just see it: "No, Jerry, I can't go to work because my girlfriend and I are going to play detective and try to find out who's been stealing all the money around town. By the way, we think it's the principal." He'd have me committed before I could finish my sentence.

I pulled up in front of Mary Jane's house at 7:58. I began bouncing my knee when it rolled over to 8:01. At 8:03 I was ready to go home and call it quits.

Just then, the front door opened, and Mary Jane stepped out, wearing a light windbreaker. Hurrying to the car, she climbed in, and apologized for being late.

"That's all right," I assured her. "Do you have what you need?"

She nodded. "Yes," she said, confident.

"And you got out okay?"

"Damon's not home again, so I didn't even have to make anything up," she explained, and I was glad to hear that.

I took a deep breath. "Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

I smiled, and reached over to squeeze her hand. "Okay. Let's do this," I urged, and slowly backed out of the driveway, heading down the road towards the biggest adventure of my young life.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I parked a few blocks from the warehouse and we walked the rest of the way, so as not to let my headlights draw attention to us. I only had a flashlight with me, and Mary Jane had assured me everything she needed was in the pockets of her jacket, so we were ready to go.

"Here," I said, and stopped in front of a manhole in the sidewalk. Lifting the lid, I clicked on my flashlight and let it shine into the darkness of the tunnel, illuminating nothing but cement and the iron ladder.

"I'll go first and help you down," I told her, and she nodded. Taking the light from me, she watched as I climbed down the rungs, and then told her to follow. There was about a four-foot drop from the last rung of the ladder to the ground, so I put my hands on her waist and carefully set her on her feet. I didn't expect the air to be as cool or as damp as it was, and I mentally praised my girlfriend for bringing a jacket.

She smiled up at me and squeezed my hand, which was still on her waist. "Thanks," the blonde said, and I gave her a half-smile.

"This way." I remembered the tunnels from my childhood - that and I'd studied a map I found on the Internet the day before, just to refresh my memory. I didn't want to get lost in the winding pathways of an old sewer.

Judging by the close proximity Mary Jane was keeping with me, I assumed that was exactly what she was afraid of - getting lost. Reaching behind me, I took her hand, and brought her up to my side.

"It's okay," I soothed, and paused in front of another ladder. "This should be just outside the warehouse. We can get inside from there." Giving her the light again, I lifted the lid, having to use quite a bit of strength, as weeds and grass had overgrown most of it. Slowly pulling myself up enough to see that no one was around, I climbed the rest of the way out, and reached down to assist Mary Jane.

Brushing my black hair out of the way, I replaced the lid, wincing as it grated against the rim, emitting a spine-chilling screech. I froze, worried that someone else would hear it, but perhaps the sound just seemed louder than normal, because no one was wise to our arrival yet.

Continuing on our way, I took a good look at the warehouse for a moment, and was glad to find it was only one story tall. That meant we didn't have too much ground to cover. Carefully feeling the walls with my hand, I noticed a window that had been boarded up - well, they all had, but this one was not quite as secure as the others. Most of the nails were missing, and I gently pried the remaining ones away, slowly removing the plywood. I let out a breath of relief when I didn't see anyone, and motioned to Mary Jane that I would go first.

My heart was beating fast with the adrenaline that was rushing through my veins, and I gingerly swung my leg over the sill, placing it lightly on the ground, trying not to make a single sound. The rest of my body followed, and I landed in a low crouch, surveying my surroundings quickly.

Boxes were everywhere, as well as a few chairs, and I could make out the edge of a table. Only one room that I could see had a door on it; the rest were wide open, mainly showing off more boxes or black garbage bags. Filled with money and loot, I imagined.

I could hear voices, men's, but they were quiet, so I hoped they were on the other end of the building. Waving for Mary Jane to follow, I helped her through the window, and then crept along the wall, trying to find the room where the computer was kept.

A shadow from one of the four or five naked lights in the room caught my attention, and I pulled my blonde companion against me swiftly, trying to blend in with the wall. A voice called out, "Damon!" and the shadow halted and disappeared, as I exchanged a surprised glance with Mary Jane, who shrugged.

With a quick nod of my head, we continued our search, and I found one of the rooms with a door. Finding it unlocked, I checked for prying eyes, and silently opened the door, closing it gently behind us.

A computer with a glowing monitor stood before us on a large wooden desk, and Mary Jane instantly claimed the chair.

"Okay, sweetheart, this is your department," I breathed, and she nodded, fingers already flying across the keyboard.

Granted, I didn't know much about computers, but I knew a message box when I saw one.

Entrance denied. Please enter password.

"Damn it!" I cursed, softly. "It's password protected." There went our evidence.

Mary Jane just smiled at me. "Relax, Bugs," she said, quietly, removing some disks from her jacket. She had two 3 ½ '' disks, two CD-ROMs, and one large floppy disk that I hadn't seen in years. "This is my forte, remember?"

Inserting one of the smaller disks, she hit a few keys, and suddenly letter after letter after number appeared on the screen.

"It should only take about thirty seconds."

I frowned. "What are you doing?"

She cocked her head at me; lovingly, I thought. "You really don't know anything about computers, do you?" I shook my head. "This is a deciphering program I made - it will break just about any password on any computer. Depending upon how long it is, it can take anywhere from thirty seconds to ten minutes. This one only seems to be about five characters, so it should be done pretty soon."

By the time she was done explaining the process to me, the message Access granted flashed across the screen, and I gave her shoulder a strong squeeze.

"We're not done yet," she warned, and had to use her program several more times. In just a few minutes, she announced, "I'm in." Looking through files and documents that meant absolutely nothing to me, she eventually double-clicked on an icon, and something came up in the word processing program.

"It's those records you were talking about…" she said. "Bailey, look at this! Pools, real estate, computers with amazing speed and power… they've been buying everything!

"And here's the bank account information," the blonde continued, her fingers constantly moving, be it on the keyboard or the mouse. She exchanged disks a few times, and then began skimming through another list.

"Copy them down!" I urged.

"That's what I'm doing. I'll do the computer, Bailey, you just keep an eye out and get us out of here when I'm done," she told me, quietly but firmly, and I realized I must have been making her nervous.

Doing as I was told, I kept careful watch on the door, and listened for any voices that I thought might mean someone was coming towards us.

"They kept all the records of who they bought what from," she chuckled, lightly.

Suddenly, she got too quiet - I didn't hear the keys clicking away anymore.

"Bailey, what was your mom's name?" she questioned, and I paused, startled by the odd question.

"Joanne, why?"

She glanced up at me, her eyes sad, and I frowned, wondering what she'd discovered. Something concerning my mother? Why would Mr. Heath have anything about her?

I was heading towards the screen when some male voices caught my attention.

"I know, but Tom said he wanted it printed out anyway," said one, in response to the other's complaining, and I turned to Mary Jane, anxiously.

"Copy it and let's get out of here!" I urged. "We've got to go, now!"

"Patience is a virtue," she replied, as the blue bars indicated that the file was only about 75% done.

I could hear their footsteps. "Not right now it isn't!"

"Got it!"

As soon as she had the disk in her hand, I opened the door with all my might, slamming it into the faces of the two men who were coming in our direction. They stumbled backward, holding their noses, and I pushed Mary Jane ahead of me. Hurrying out the window, I sprinted ahead to open the manhole, and made sure the small blonde went before me.

"Get them!" someone yelled, and I saw three men run from around the side of the warehouse, apparently trying to catch us. Just as I climbed down the ladder, I saw one pull a gun, and hurriedly slid the cover back over the opening, just to delay them a bit.

"Come on, follow me!" Grabbing Mary Jane's hand, I practically drug her through the tunnels, stopping only when I felt her trip and heard her cry out in pain.

"This way!" cried one of the men, and I swallowed.

"Mary Jane! Can you walk?" I asked, and she was limping heavily, having sprained her left ankle, so I decided we didn't have time to go out the way we came. We'd have to take a short cut. Making a sharp left, I froze. The path was blocked.

"Fuck!" I cursed, under my breath. "This wasn't here when I was a kid." The map hadn't mentioned anything about a dead end, either. With the men coming closer, there was no way we could try another route - we were stuck.

"Don't say a word," I whispered, and she nodded. Holding her close, I flinched when the voices came even closer.

"I told you I heard someone in there! Did they get into the computer?"

"Hell, I don't know; Gerald is checking it out," replied the other voice, a little deeper than the first.

"Oh, fuck this. I don't want to stay in here running after a couple of punk-ass kids. Why don't we just scare 'em a bit and call it quits?"

There was silence as the other man contemplated the idea. "Damon, you know we're supposed to catch them."

"So? We'll just scare 'em so bad they'll never tell. Hell, let's just fire and block them in. Come on." In a moment, I heard a click, followed by numerous loud explosions that echoed all around us. I lost count at seven, and was only aware of the rumbling coming from deep within the old tunnel.

The next thing I knew, I was laying on top of Mary Jane - unfortunately, while I normally would have loved being in that position, the reason for it was to shield her from falling debris. The men didn't know it, but they'd been shooting almost directly at us, and the reverberations from their gunfire had caused several of the drain's passages to cave in.

Looking around as I shook small rocks and cement dust from my back, I realized the passage we were in had been blocked off. The previous cave in and the one just a few moments ago had us trapped.

"Mary Jane, sweetheart, talk to me," I urged, glad to see that she was conscious.

"I'm okay, Bailey," she assured me. "My ankle hurts, but I'm all right." She gasped as she saw the damage. "How are we going to get out?"

I sighed, and pulled her close to me, glad she had a jacket as the chill was especially apparent.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart… I'll get us out of here," I promised, and got to my feet, beginning to dig with my hands, removing rocks as quickly as possible. Hearing her start to get to her feet, I said, "No, you stay there. You're hurt, MJ. You just rest your ankle, okay?"

"I want to help," she insisted.

I shook my head. "Rest." Anxious to get out, I started pulling the smaller rocks out first, and worked at that for about an hour, I'd guess, before I heard another rumbling sound. One of the rocks I'd pulled out near the bottom caused another slide, and the small progress I'd been making was gone in an instant.

"Fuck!" I cursed, frustrated. Kicking at the rocks, I berated myself for bringing Mary Jane into such a mess. "Goddamn it!" I froze when I saw her standing.

Immediately, I went to her side. "What are you doing?" I demanded, helping her to sit back down. My eyes had adjusted to the dark long ago, and it was still rather hard to see, but I did my best to take a look at her ankle with the flashlight. From what I could tell it was badly swollen, and she gasped in pain when I lightly touched it with my hand.

"You can't walk on this," I told her. "You rest, sweetheart, please. I'm so sorry I brought you into all this."

"But, Bailey, you found what you needed!"

"Well, yeah, but I shouldn't have brought you along… I mean, now you've gotten hurt! I don't know if it was worth it," I admitted.

Grabbing my arm, she pulled me down beside her, and wrapped her arms around me. "Bugs, I meant what I said: where you go, I go. Always. What's on these disks doesn't matter - you are what matters, and you are worth it. I'm here because I want to be. I know I didn't have to go, and I know you wouldn't have made me," she said. "Please don't be upset… I would follow you anywhere, you know."

I looked at her. "Why? I'm just a klutz who's always getting into trouble," I reminded her, but she didn't seem to agree with me.

"Bailey," she began, with a sigh, "I knew there was something about you the first time I saw you. I've never been one to just go up and start a conversation, at least not for a while, but I wanted to talk to you. I felt like I had to go up and tell you that you weren't alone on your opinion of Mr. Newton.

"Do you have any idea how scared I was that day? I mean, most of my experiences with talking to people have been bad, because my brother got upset. But I didn't care about that when I started talking to you - I'd only known you for five minutes and I already felt safe," she explained.

"I knew Damon wouldn't like it if I went out to lunch with you that day, but I didn't want to disappoint you, and I really wanted to go. For once, I was doing something just for myself, because I wanted to," she said, and I knew this was more than I'd ever heard her speak at one time. "And I'm glad I did.

"I don't regret anything that's happened since I've been with you, Bugs… well, except maybe our arguments, but I think it brings us closer when we make up. I would have found a way to go with you tonight, even if you hadn't asked. Please, don't apologize," she urged, squeezing my hand and placing a soft kiss on my lips.

How could I argue with that?

"Okay, sweetheart. You sit here, and I'll start back in on that big pile of pebbles, all right?" I grinned, and kissed her forehead before getting to my feet.

I worked hard for the next four hours. Mary Jane kept trying to help, but I wouldn't let her, and since some of the rocks were more like boulders, it took me a while to get it all done. I started from the top this time, so I didn't cause another slide, but by the time I was done, I was exhausted. My arms were more sore than I thought was possible, my back ached, and I had a headache from trying to see in the dark.

"Come here," urged Mary Jane, and I gratefully sank into her embrace, leaning against her as she ran her fingers through my hair. I only closed my eyes for a second, but the next thing I knew, we were both asleep.

When I woke up, I groaned and stretched, my body not at all happy with the position I'd fallen asleep in.

Wait a minute… we fell asleep! Shit! Glancing down at my watch, I spoke those same thoughts out loud. It was past seven o'clock in the morning!

"Mary Jane… sweetheart, we have to get up," I urged, gently shaking her. When her sleep-filled green eyes focused on me, I explained our problem. "It's seven-fifteen, and we need to go. Come on, sweetheart."

Helping her to stand, I let her lean on me for support, and in fact ended up carrying her most of the way. She protested, claiming she was too heavy, but her ankle was swollen pretty badly, and I knew it had to hurt. I refused to let her walk on it, even if I thought I had pulled a few muscles in my back and maybe torn a ligament in my right arm. But I wouldn't tell her that.

Climbing back out of the drain was the hardest part, especially for my girlfriend, but somehow, we made it, and headed back towards my car. Finally, I told her to wait by a nearby pay phone so she wouldn't look too suspicious, and I jogged the rest of the way, swinging back around to pick her up.

"We need to get your ankle looked at," I told her, and the blonde agreed, so our first stop was the community hospital. Luckily it wasn't very busy, and she was taken in right away. The doctor determined it was only a severe sprain, and so instructed her on when to ice it and for how long, and how to wrap it once the swelling went down. Then he handed her a pair of crutches, telling her she had to stay off of the injured joint for at least a week.

I felt my heart break as I saw her come out of there, using crutches for support. I hated to know that I was the reason she'd gotten hurt.

"I'm all right, Bugs," she assured me, quietly, placing her hand on my arm, having seen the look on my face, I suppose.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, and we made our way back to my Explorer. I tried to make her stay at my house while I went to the police with what we'd found, but she insisted on going with me, and I learned that when she made her mind up to do something there was really no stopping her. I was glad she had that determination after all she'd been through in her life.

Her spirit prevailed.

Before we went to the police station, however, we stopped by my house. As I'd expected, my dad was practically up the wall with worry.

"Bailey, where the hell have you been?" he demanded, as I walked in the door. "Why didn't you call? What happened to Mary Jane?"

I held up my hand, stopping the barrage of questions. "Dad, just sit down, and we'll explain everything, all right?" I requested, and he sank into the recliner, with an eyebrow raised in such a way that told me he thought the explanation had better be good.

It took the better part of an hour to get through our explanation, because he kept interrupting and asking various questions, but when we were done, he was quiet.

"So it's the principal?"

I nodded. "Yeah," I confirmed. "We're going to the police station next."

"And you have the disks with the proof?"

Mary Jane replied, "Yes," and took them out of her pocket. "It's got all the evidence on it that we should need."

My dad was silent for a moment, and then he nodded. "Well, this is up to you, girls. Let me know if you need any help, okay? But you should take this stuff to the cops," he agreed, and I told him we were on our way.

On the way down there, Mary Jane mentioned, "Bailey, are you sure we won't get in trouble? I mean, weren't we trespassing? And what about looking through his file?"

I sighed. "No, I don't think so. The land doesn't really belong to anyone any more, as far as the warehouse goes; they were just using it for their hideout. It wasn't as though it was a business or anyone's house. And as for his file, it was in plain view. I didn't have to go searching to find it, it was right there," I explained.

It took us another hour to explain everything to the cops, and then we gave them the disks. One of the officers took them into another room and opened the files on a computer, before coming back to report that it had everything that could have hoped for. It was rock solid, he confirmed, having checked with a few sources to discover some of the receipts on record were valid. We hadn't made it up.

Then came another long string of questions, such as how many people did we think were involved and how many rooms were in the warehouse… I guess they were planning a raid or something and wanted to know what they'd be up against. Mary Jane and I told them everything we knew, and they thanked us for coming forward with the information.

It was about ten-thirty when we walked out of the station, the disks now in the possession of the police, Mary Jane and I both feeling very relieved that the authorities would take care of everything.

* * * * *

It was on the news later that night. The embezzlers had been found, and most of them had been arrested. The only criminal still free was the supposed mastermind of it all - Gerald Heath, local high school principal, and while that had me a little worried, I was sure he wouldn't show his face again, since his buddies had been caught.

Their entire plan was revealed: about twenty men were involved, only half of them working with the money, the other half committing various crimes, such as bank robbery and playing the parking lot stalker, to distract the public from the gradually disappearing cash. A few names were released, of the ones involved that had been arrested, and I was not surprised to see Damon Wilcox on that list. That would explain why he was gone every weekend.

But embezzling wasn't the only way they were getting their money - it seems a small drug operation was also in the works, making meth (met amphetamine) and selling marijuana.

Seeing as we had been the ones to discover it all, Mary Jane and I were also mentioned. We were sitting on my couch watching the report, my dad having ordered pizza, Mary Jane staying upon my insistence, since Damon was out of the picture and her parents didn't care. I about choked on my soda - yeah, I didn't drink it very often, but I was celebrating - when I heard the part about the teens that had foiled their plans.

"High school student Bailey Smith and her girlfriend Mary Jane Wilcox seem to be the ones to thank for bringing this criminal activity to an end…"

Mary Jane patted me on the back until I regained my breath.

"Shit," I cursed. "Well, so much for keeping it a secret. Damn it!"

"Bailey Joanne, will you watch your mouth?" my dad scolded, and I rolled my eyes as my girlfriend smirked.

"Sorry, dad."

The small blonde by my side reached over and squeezed my hand. "Bugs, it really doesn't matter if people know, does it? We're happy and if they never understand, it's their loss," she reasoned, and I gave her a warm smile.

"You're right, sweetheart," I agreed, leaning down to give her a quick kiss, pulling back when I heard my dad chuckle.

"Oh, no, don't stop on my account," he grinned, and I glared at him. "By all means, continue."

I growled, "If you don't mind… I don't like an audience!"

With a large swallow, he downed the rest of his glass of tea. "Oh, look, my glass is empty. I'd better go make some more tea," he decided, getting up and going into the kitchen. I just smirked and shook my head, fondly.

"He can be such a goof," I sighed, and Mary Jane smiled up at me.

"Is that where you get it from?"

With a scowl, I crossed my arms over my chest and pretended to pout. Mary Jane laughed at my reaction, and gently kissed the edge of my jaw, making me break out into a large grin.

My dad returned with a full glass of tea and laughed at the look on my face, kissing the blonde on the top of her head, commenting that it was great to see such a stupid smile on my face. Putting my arm around my girlfriend, I pulled her close, kissing her softly before shooting a glance at my dad, stating, "Get your own girl."

Darryl let out a loud laugh, and soon Mary Jane and I joined in. Sitting there in the living room with the people I loved, my dog laying by my feet, life was good.

* * * * *

The days went by quickly, and before I knew it, school was over. The vice principal had been principal for the remaining weeks, but they were working over the summer to get a new principal for the following year. I graduated tenth in my class, and my girlfriend was sixth, so she got to be a part of the Honor Guard, which meant she got to wear a white cap and gown and sit on stage with the seniors as they graduated. Only the top seven in the junior class got that privilege, and I'm sure I used up at least one roll of film during graduation.

I was pleasantly surprised when there were no rude remarks made about the fact that the local news station had practically announced my sexuality. A few strange looks here and there, but not the hateful reaction I'd been expecting. Then again, it's very possible that I just ignored them - Mary Jane was right, all that mattered was that we were happy together.

And I was definitely happy. I finally convinced her to allow me to tell my dad all that had happened to her, and he didn't hesitate to ask her to move in with us. Her brother was in jail, so that wasn't a problem, and her parents didn't care what she did; they were glad to be rid of her, I'm sorry to say.

It was the weekend after school let out, and I was driving down the road to Mary Jane's house to help her pack her stuff. I had never been so glad to be going in that direction. Finally, I was getting her out of there, even though the major problem was gone. Still, it made me feel good.

Suddenly, a black Mercedes cut me off, changing lanes quickly without signaling, making me hit the brakes to avoid a collision.

"Jerk," I muttered. "You've got a turn signal, damn it, why don't you use it? That's what it's there for, you know. How hard is it to just reach down and move a little lever for Christ's sake?" I didn't have very much patience for people who drove like idiots.

I made a right, and was glad to see the Mercedes kept going. I could turn my thoughts back to more pleasant things, now, like my girlfriend…

But, no, the damned Mercedes came back and cut me off again.

"What the hell!" I cried, and hit the horn. The black luxury car made a sharp U-turn, and then gained on me. He was coming right towards me! I flinched, knowing there was nothing I could do, and felt my teeth jar as he rear-ended my Explorer.

With a snarl, I pulled over, and slammed the door as I got out.

"All right, you son of a bitch. What the hell is your problem?" When the driver made no move to step out, I came closer, unable to see who it was through the heavily tinted windows and the glare of the sun. Just as I was within range, the driver's door suddenly opened, and I was very nearly hit in the face. Stumbling back, I flexed my hand, as that had taken the force of the blow.

"Your mother was just like you, you know," came a voice, and my jaw hit the ground as Gerald Heath stepped out of the driver's seat.

I was speechless. First of all, what was he doing following me, and second of all, what the hell did he know about my mother? Was that what Mary Jane had found on the computer?

Wait a minute… he had a gun… who was he aiming it at?

"Holy shit," I muttered, as my girlfriend stepped out of the passenger side. He had the barrel of his revolver trained on her, but kept talking as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

"She got too close, too. You knew your mother used to work for me, didn't you?" The surprise must have shown on my face because he continued with a smirk, "Oh, you didn't know that!" Motioning Mary Jane closer, he put the gun against her head, and I felt my heart stop.

"Don't hurt her," I pleaded. "I'll do whatever you want, just don't hurt her."

"Actually, right now I want you to listen," he ordered, and I nodded, easily.

"I'm listening," I assured him.

"So you didn't know your mom used to work for me… yeah, I used to be a great guy," he began. "I used to work in a bank. The one right here in town, in fact. Then I started getting money… a lot of money. Nobody cared, because they were all afraid of me… except your mother. She was always the one who stood up to me, and then she finally found out what was going on.

"Well, she was going to the cops, but she got into a little accident on the way," he sneered, and I could feel the anger build within me. "Let's just say she didn't come back, and no one ever found out that she wasn't the driver. They just figured she was ejected during the fall, and there wasn't enough evidence to prove otherwise. She just fell asleep at the wheel and went right over the edge… no one knew it was me.

"No one knows what really happened… how I knocked her out and then drove up to the bridge. There were no other cars around, so I floored it, and jumped out just before it went over. Your mother, however, went down with the car. Everyone just assumed it was a horrible accident."

I felt ill. The man standing before me was telling me that he was the reason I'd lost my mother at the tender age of three… her death was no accident; he'd killed her!

"But you see, now that you and your little slut girlfriend have stumbled upon our little scheme, and my buddies are in jail, the only way I can come up with to extract justice is to shoot you all," he stated, with an eerily calm grin. "Correct me if I'm wrong."

"Listen, it was my idea to go looking. I dragged Mary Jane into it; she really had nothing to do with it. It was all me. Just let her go," I pleaded, trying to reason with the armed man. I'd much rather take the place of my girlfriend, if it meant she was safe. My heart was pounding so hard I was afraid he'd hear it and know how panicked I felt.

"Hm…" he mused, pretending to think about it. "No. I've seen how you are with her. What, do you think this is the first time I've been watching you?" he laughed. "I've been watching you for weeks, Bailey! I know you love her more than life itself. And to see her die would be worse than death for you, wouldn't it?"

My heart was pounding but I couldn't stop myself. I whispered, "Yes."

"Ah, see? I know what makes you tick," he gloated.

"Well, we have something in common then, Mr. Heath. I know what makes you tick," I told him, quickly coming up with a plan that I could only hope would work. My girlfriend's life depended on it.

"Bailey, you already know all my secrets," he reminded. "Nothing can make me tick, you should be smart enough to realize that."

"Yeah, but you forget that I'm a writer. And a writer has ideas. And a writer needs a way to get those ideas down before she loses them," I explained, coolly. I pulled out my micro-cassette recorder that I carried with me. I hadn't had it on before, but when he started talking about my mother, I reached in my pocket and turned it on without him thinking anything of it.

"Therefore, this goes with me wherever I am. It's been on for the past ten minutes. So, I have tape of your confession. And I have a tape that says you're going to kill my girlfriend, and me. I don't know what you're going to do about it, but you do know that I hit 911 on my phone the minute you rear-ended me, so the cops should be here any minute. See, I don't take kindly to anyone hitting my car, and I was hoping you wouldn't have insurance."

That was pure bullshit, but I prayed he'd buy it.

"But, not only do you not have insurance, I doubt that's really your car, and now you're holding my girlfriend at gunpoint. So, what makes you tick, Mr. Heath?" I finished, enunciating each word carefully, playing off as being completely confident when in fact I was scared out of my mind.

He was pissed. "You bitch! You lie," he spat.

I removed the cassette and waved it at him. "Try me," I dared. "Either you let her go, or you've got thirty seconds before I hand this over to the cops. You can riddle my body with bullets, but this… this will be your undoing."

"Give me the tape now or she dies!" he roared.

I have never truly believed in miracles before that point. Somewhere, not far in the distance, a high-speed pursuit or something was going on, and we all heard the sirens. I hadn't called the cops, but Gerald took that as a sign that they were coming. Nothing but coincidence, but it was just what I needed.

Come on, break you son of a bitch, I prayed, urgently.

"Twenty seconds."

He tried to bargain now, and I could tell he was nervous. "Look… you, uh, you give me the tape, and I'll hand her over," he offered, but I shook my head.

"Huh-uh. You give me the gun and her, and I'll give you the tape. That's the only way we're doing this," I said, firmly.

He was desperate, and I noticed that his eyes kept darting around, trying to figure out if the cops were coming closer.

"I… I'll give you the gun, and then we'll exchange the girl and the tape at the same time," was his plea.

I jumped at the offer, but remained calm on the outside. "I can handle that," I grinned. "Come on, we've got five seconds to do this. Put the safety on." He did as I asked, and handed it to me, handle first. I was impressed; he was keeping his end of the deal.

Taking the weapon, I held the gun in one hand and my tape in the other.

"All right, here we go." I moved closer, but stopped halfway. "Let Mary Jane start walking," I ordered, but he refused.

"Not until I have that tape in my hand!"

Aiming the gun at him, I made a show of turning off the safety and aimed it at him. "Listen, ass hole. Let her start walking, now!"

He let her go, thankfully, and as soon as she was within arm's reach, I grabbed her and pulled her out of harm's way. Handing her the tape, I put the safety back on the gun, and gave that to her as well.

"It won't go off," I assured her, as she stared at the weapon with wide eyes. "Just get in the car and lock the doors."

Doing as she was told, I saw Mr. Heath start after her, since she held the precious tape, but I intercepted him.

"You're not going to get off that easy, prick," I spat. "You're going to pay for what you did to my mother… and it's still on tape." Grabbing him by the arm, I swung him around, and introduced his nose to my fist. He tried to backhand me, but I blocked it, and followed through with a kick to his side.

To sum it up, I was literally beating the shit out of him. He got maybe one or two solid hits in, but it didn't even faze me. I was so pissed off I wouldn't have cared if I killed him right then and there.

Somehow, however, my anger clouded my mind for a moment, and he managed to punch me hard in the gut. It knocked the wind out of me, and I doubled over, wincing as my head hit the asphalt when he pushed me down. Kneeling on my stomach, he withdrew a pocketknife and revealed the sharp blade that reflected in the sun, bringing it close to my neck.

"Stop." He glanced up at the sound, as did I, and we were both surprised to see Mary Jane standing over us, the gun held tightly in her shaking hands. "Leave her alone," she ordered.

The man leered at her, apparently not bothered in the least. The blade was still too close to my skin for me to even think about moving… one small slip and that was all it would take.

"You don't have the guts, bitch," he said, coldly. "Your brother was right, you know; you really aren't good for anything." If looks could kill he'd have been dead about ten times over at that point, I was so ticked at him for telling her that, and reminding her of her brother.

But, then, I realized that's exactly what he was trying to do. If he worked with Damon I'm sure he knew what would cause the most damage to my beautiful girlfriend, and would try to use it to get her to retreat back into that shell. If that happened, it was all over. Her and that gun were the only things that stood between me and an early grave.

"You're too scared to even aim the gun right," he continued, mocking her. "You'll never do anything right, will you? If you destroyed your family life, what makes you think you'll ever have a relationship? No one will want you," he hissed, and I could tell her was getting to her. The barrel of the gun was slowly lowering as she faltered.

In a flash of bravery, or insanity - I'm not sure which, really - I met her gaze. "Don't believe him, sweetheart," I urged, and felt a small pain in my neck as the blade moved a little closer. "You're beautiful and talented and smart… I have faith in you."

That seemed to get through to her, and she steadied the gun, going so far as to pull back the hammer.

"Move," she commanded, firmly. "Do it." With a snarl, the man got to his feet, and made his way to the curb where she directed him. When I was able to, I went to the blonde's side, and gently reached out to take the gun from her and eased the hammer out of position.

I heard sirens again, but this time they were coming in our direction - Mary Jane must have called 911 while she was in the car. I only had the cell phone in my car, I never really had to use it, but it was there if I needed it. I was glad she'd taken the initiative.

"Are you all right, sweetheart?" I asked her, as the cops rushed in and took him into custody. Other than being a little shaken up, she said she was okay, and I enfolded her in my arms for a moment, kissing the crown of her head before an officer approached us to get a report. It turned out Mr. Heath had actually gone to Mary Jane's house and taken her out at gunpoint when she answered the door - her parents didn't even notice.

When all the questions were over with and we'd assured the officers we were okay, they left us to ourselves, and I wrapped my arm around my girlfriend's shoulders. We were sitting on the curb, well aware of the curious eyes that watched from the nearby homes, but neither of us caring.

"You saved me, Mary Jane," I said, and she shook her head. "No, you did," I insisted. "You kept him from killing me, and you called the police… now he's got what he really deserves. You were very brave; you stayed calm, you did everything just right. You were great.

"I'm just glad you're okay," I continued. "I love you so much, I don't know what I'd do if anything ever happened to you."

I paused, realizing what I had said when she glanced up at me.

Oh, crap.

Then a smile graced her features. "I love you, too, Bugs," she grinned. "If not for you, I'd still be living with my abusive brother and my parents who basically blocked me from their life. But you showed me what it's like to feel loved and cared for, and you make me feel special.

"It feels… right, being with you and standing up for you, because I love you."

Standing, I helped her to her feet, and we slowly walked back towards my Explorer. The damage to the back bumper wasn't too bad, but it would definitely need a touch-up.

The sudden urge came upon me to tell her the truth about what went on at Tina's party - I mean, I'd just told her I loved her, and I didn't feel it was right to keep something from someone you loved.

"Do you remember that night at Tina's party, when we had our first kiss?" I asked, and she smiled, taking my hand.

"How could I forget?"

"Well, I have a confession to make about that night…"

"What?"

"I knew exactly how to play."

To my surprise, she chuckled. "You know what, Bailey? I knew you did." At the look on my face, she continued, "I heard you and Tina talking in the kitchen when I walked in."

"But, then, why did you…?" I was confused. If she knew that I knew how to play, why didn't she call me on it? She knew I was lying, so why wasn't she upset?

"Because I was thrilled to learn that you liked me as much as I liked you, and because I wanted it to happen, too," she said, softly. I smiled warmly, and kissed her, not caring if the nosy people in the houses saw us or not. I loved the small woman in my arms, and that was all that mattered.

I realized that probably wouldn't be the only time Mary Jane, the woman I loved, would turn the tables on me… or, spin the bottle, if you will.

EPILOGUE

I'm surprised I remember half of all that… it's been so long since that's happened. Ten years, as a matter of fact. But then again, I have my wife to jog my memory and correct me on a few things.

That's right, my wife - Mary Jane and I have been married for three years. My dad and Tina both attended the wedding, and I dare say I caught sight of my friend wiping her eyes with a tissue. While we weren't issued a license, because same-sex marriages are still illegal here in California, a priest agreed to do the ceremony for us. I still call it one of the best days of my life.

Our life together has been good. Mary Jane went to college and majored in computers, of course, but has also pursued her dream of being an artist, and does illustrations for many children's books.

I, on the other hand, have just applied to become principal of a high school. I've taught for about five years, and it's strange, but I almost feel as though I need to give something back. Having such a horrible principal when I was in high school, Mary Jane thinks I'm resolving something from my past. I don't understand it for sure; I just know that I love what I do.

I've still been writing, but not nearly as much as I used to. Last week my wife got the idea to get me writing my life story more or less, and said she'd help me where she could, wherever she came in.

I just looked at her. "Don't you understand, honey?" I asked. "If I wrote my life story, it would begin with you."

"Bailey, you were seventeen when we met," she reminded me, with a smile. "That's seventeen years of your life that…"

"Never really happened," I finished, and she gave me a strange look. "Okay, so they happened in the sense that I was breathing and alive, and I did things, you know, I didn't just sit there… but until you, I never really felt alive… I never really felt whole."

I guess that's how this all got started… of course, that last comment got me a big smile and a long kiss from my wife. She said I was very sweet, but she wanted me to write about my childhood.

Hey, she just got home from work. She still wears her hair short, but the bangs are a bit longer, and she'll peer through them to shoot me this sexy look that just drives me crazy… Married life is good. Very good…

Uh-oh. She just skimmed the first few pages, and is giving me a stern look for where I started the story.

"I told you so," I smirk.

"Bugs, I want to hear about your childhood!" she insists, giving me a quick kiss, knowing very well what that nickname does to me. Having not seen her since breakfast, our kisses quickly turn passionate, and this writing is forgotten.

My childhood… well, that's a story for another time.