“Or he,” Jean said, standing up for her gender.
“Or it.”
“Couldn’t you just write a letter to Susan, or something, and explain the situation? Maybe they could send a fresh copy to someone else.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think she’d appreciate that. It’d be like calling them jerks for sending it to some illiterate butcher. Besides, they already paid to have it done. And they’re on a tight time schedule by now, or they wouldn’t want the damn thing back in six days.”
“Maybe you should phone Susan.”
“The last thing I need is to get a reputation as a troublemaker.”
“So you’re just going to take it lying down?”
“I’m going to take it sitting on my butt with a red pen in one hand and a copy of my British edition in the other. If the people in London didn’t fix it, it didn’t need fixing.” He hung his head and sighed.
Jean stepped in front of him. She rubbed his shoulders. “I’m sorry, honey.”
“Fortunes of war. The thing is... it’ll have to be mailed Wednesday for next-day delivery. If I go to your folks’ place, that only gives me about three days to go through the whole damn thing and try to... save it.”
“You could take it along.”
“I wouldn’t be fit to live with, anyway. Maybe you and Lane should just go ahead without me.” As he spoke the words, he realized that he didn’t want to be left behind. Not for this. But he couldn’t go. “If I spend the whole weekend working on it, maybe I’ll be feeling human again by the time you get back.”
“I suppose we could call it off,” she said, stroking his hair. “Go up next weekend instead.”
“No, don’t do that. It’s their anniversary. Besides, you’ve been looking forward to it. No need for all of us to suffer because of this crap.”
“If you’re sure,” she muttered.
“I don’t see any choice.”
Larry went back to his office. His throat felt tight.
You didn’t want to go in the first place, he reminded himself.
But that was before he found out he would have to be laboring over Madhouse.
He stared at his computer screen.
“Maybe there are some other ‘box’ angles. Fool around with it.”
Right. Sure thing. Maybe sometime next week.
No more working out the details for The Box. No more plunging toward the conclusion of Night Stranger.
The next few days belonged to Madhouse, a book that he’d finished eighteen months ago. A book that had already been published in England — and about all they had changed over there was “windshield” to “windscreen” and added u’s to words like color.
“So who said life is fair?” he muttered, and shut his computer off.
Twelve
“I have a special announcement to make,” Mr. Kramer said with two minutes remaining before the bell. “As I’ve mentioned before, the drama department at the city college is putting on Hamletnext week. I’m sure the production will be well worth seeing for all of you, and I urge every one of you to attend if you can. Now, here’s the thing. I’ve obtained four free tickets to the Saturday night performance. Only four of you will be able to participate, but for those lucky students, I’ll provide tickets and transportation.” He smiled. “That way, you won’t have to bug your parents to borrow a car.” A few of the kids laughed. “If any of you would like to take advantage of the opportunity, just stay in your seats after the bell rings.”
Lane gnawed her lower lip. Should she stay? Jim might ask her out for that night.
We can always go out Friday night instead, she told herself.
It wouldbe neat to see the play, especially with Mr. Kramer. Couldn’t hurt, either, in the Brownie points department.
The bell rang. Lane remained in her seat.
As Jessica stepped by, she glanced at Lane and shook her head.
Probably thinks I’m an idiot, wanting to give up a Saturday night to see Shakespeare.
Maybe I am. If it turns out that Jim’s busy Friday night, I’m going to kick myself. He was gone last weekend, I’ll be gone this weekend. That’ll make three weeks in a row if I go to the play and he can’t make it on Friday.
ThisSaturday night was when she’d wanted to go out with him. All week he’d been especially nice. Trying to make up, Lane supposed, for being such a creep Monday morning.
She turned on her seat. Five other kids had remained in the room.
There’re six of us, and he can only take four. If I’m not picked, that’ll solve the problem right there.
“I see I’ve got more Shakespeare fans than tickets,” Mr. Kramer said. “That’s certainly gratifying, but it does present a little difficulty. We want to be fair about this.” He dug a hand into a pocket of his slacks and pulled out a quarter. “I’ll flip a coin. The first two of you to lose will have to bow out. Does that sound okay to everyone?”
Nobody objected.
“Okay, Lane, you first. Call it in the air.” He rested the coin on his thumbnail and flicked it high.
“Heads,” Lane said.
It landed in the palm of his right hand. He slapped it onto the back of his left, kept it covered and smiled at her. “Want to change your mind?”
“Nope. I’ll stick with heads.”
He looked. “Heads it is,” he said, tipping his hand and letting the coin drop into the other.
He didn’t let anyone see it, Lane realized.
What the heck, they’re his tickets.
“Okay, George, your turn.”
George won. So did Aaron and Sandra.
Jerry and Heidi, the losers, called the coin again to determine who would be first choice as an alternate in case one of the chosen was unable to attend. Heidi won.
“Okay,” Mr. Kramer said, “I’ll fill you in on the details later. In the meantime, have a good weekend. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”
That comment brought a few chuckles.
Lane gathered her books and stood up. “I’m glad you’re one of the lucky four,” he said. “Maybe I’ll get a chance to meet your father when I pick you up for the play.”
“I’m sure he’ll be glad to meet you.”
“I’ll have to pick up one of his books and get an autograph.”
“That’ll make his day.”
“And maybe we can firm up the date he’ll be coming in.”
“Yeah. He said any time after the first.”
“Well, maybe we can make it more definite.”
Lane nodded. “Have a nice weekend, Mr. Kramer.”
“You, too. Try to stay out of trouble.” He winked.
“What would be the fun of that?” she said, blushing.
As he laughed, Lane waved good-bye and left the room.
The hallway was crowded with kids, noisy with slamming lockers, shouts, and laughter. She leaned against a wall and waited for Jim. A few minutes later he came along.
“I have to drop some stuff off at my locker,” Lane said. They started up the hall together.
“When are you leaving for Los Angeles?” he asked.
“As soon as I get home.”
“What a drag.”
“There’s always next weekend. Next Friday, anyway. I have to go to a play Saturday night with Mr. Kramer.”
“Yeah?” He glanced at her, lifting an eyebrow. “Isn’t he a little old for you?”
“Get real. It’s a school function. He’s taking four of us from his sixth-period class.”
“Great.”
“Oh now, don’t start pouting. I’ve got nothing on Friday night.”
“Nothing on, huh? I’d like to see that.”
“I just bet you would.” She felt a hand slide over the seat of her skirt. “Quit it.”
“Sorry. Just trying to refresh my memory. It’s been two whole weeks, you know, and now it’ll be another.”
“I’m not overjoyed about it myself. Nothing I can do, though.” She arrived at her locker and
started spinning the combination dial.
“Maybe you could pretend to be sick,” he suggested. “What if you did that, and they let you stay home by yourself? I could come over to your house tomorrow night and...”
“Dream on, MacDuff.”
She opened the locker and switched books, taking out those she would need for homework. Then she shut the metal door. “Even if I did stay home, boys aren’t allowed in the house when my parents are gone.”
“Who would ever know?”
“I would. Anyway, you might as well forget it. Ain’t gonna happen.” They started down the hallway. “If you promise to behave,” Lane said, “I’ll give you a ride home.”
“What about your goofball friends, Fat and Ugly.”
Lane frowned at him. “I don’t know who you mean.”
“You know, all right. Betty and Henry.”
“Why don’t you refer to them that way, okay? They are my friends.”
“God knows why.”
“Are you trying to start something?”
“No, no. Just kidding. They’re wonderful people, the salt of the earth.”
“You could stand to be a little more like Henry.”
“Uh, duh.” He put a dopey smile on his face and started bobbing his head.
“Very funny,” she said, but couldn’t hold back a smile. “Stop it. That’s not nice.”
“Duh, okay.”
“Anyway, Betty’s mom was picking them up after school and talcing them to violin lessons.”
“So it’ll just be you and me, huh?”
“If you can fit your big head into the car.”
“I can try.”
At the end of the hallway Jim held the door open for her. She stepped out and looked toward the student parking lot. She spotted her red Mustang.
No sign of Riley Benson.
After Monday, she’d expected each afternoon to find him perched on the hood. So far he hadn’t tried it again. Though they crossed paths several times a day, he’d done no more than give her tough-guy looks.
He must’ve given up on his big plan for revenge, she decided.
Maybe Jessica had talked him out of it.
Pays to be nice to people, she thought. Especially if they’re buddy-buddy with someone who wants to wipe up the floor with you.
When Lane opened the car door, hot air poured out. They cranked down all the windows. She took a beach towel from the trunk and spread it over the driver’s seat so she wouldn’t burn her legs on the upholstery.
“You don’t have one for me?” Jim asked.
“You’re not wearing a skirt.”
“You sure are,” he said, and bent forward as if trying for a glimpse of her panties when she climbed in. “Pink,” he announced.
“Wrong.”
She started the engine. She twisted around to look out the rear window as she backed out of the space. She could feel her blouse pull tight against her breasts. Jim, of course, was staring at them.
“If they match your bra, they’re white,” he said.
“Don’t you ever think about anything but sex?” she asked, grinning at him.
“Sure. Instead sometimes I think about sex.”
She shook her head, faced forward again and steered for the parking lot exit.
“Must be hot, wearing a bra all the time.”
“What makes you think I wear one allthe time?”
“Every time I’ve seen you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Are you kidding? I can tell a mile away if a babe’s got one on.”
“That’s impressive... How long is your car going to be out of commission?” Lane asked, hoping to change the subject.
“I’ll have it off the blocks tomorrow. I wanted it ready so we could go out tomorrow night.”
“Sorry about that.”
“Maybe I’ll give Candi a call.”
“I know, just kidding.”
Jim said nothing. Lane got a tight, sickish feeling deep inside. She kept her eyes on the road.
“You wouldn’t mind, would you?”
“Be my guest.”
She knew that Jim was teasing. He had no intention of taking out Candi. He’d dumped Candi in order to start going out with her. The threat of taking up with Candi again was nothing more than a form of punishment.
“You know what they say about a bird in the hand,” Jim said.
“A good way to get a dirty hand.”
“Also, she’s a lot more cooperative than some people I might mention.”
“And probably has the diseases to prove it.”
“Oooh. Mean.”
“But feel free to take her out. It’s your life.”
He reached over and put a hand on Lane’s leg. “You know I wouldn’t do that.”
“I only know what you tell me.”
“I miss you, that’s all.”
“I miss you, too. But there’s nothing I can do about this weekend.”
“Yeah, I know.” He squeezed her knee, and his hand moved slowly up her bare leg to the hem of her skirt. He caressed her thigh. It felt good.
“Just don’t go throwing Candi at me every time you get upset.”
“Jealous?”
“Suppose I was always threatening to dump you for Cliff Ryker?”
“That shithead?”
“You think you’d enjoy it?”
“You wouldn’t. Not if you went ahead with it.”
“He’s cute.”
“Not as cute as me.” Jim’s hand crept under her skirt. She pushed it away. “He’s no gentleman, either.”
“And you are?”
“I’m not like Cliff. He isn’t the kind of guy who takes no for an answer. First time out with him, and he’d bang you till you couldn’t see straight. If that’s what you want, I’ll be glad to take care of it for you.”
“You go out with Candi, and you’ll never get the chance.”
“Hrnmmm. I like the sound of that. You mean, if I don’t, I do?”
“Where there’s life, there’s hope.”
She pulled the Mustang over to the curb in front of Jim’s house. Checking the windows and rearview mirror, she saw nobody nearby. She turned to Jim. She slipped a hand around the back of his neck. “No funny stuff,” she said. “Just a quick kiss.”
“How about coming in for a Pepsi, or something?”
She shook her head. “I have to get home. My folks are waiting.”
“Ten minutes? That won’t throw off your trip by much. Tell them you had to stay after class.”
I didhave to stay after class, she thought. It wouldn’t be a lie.
“Is your mother home?”
Jim answered by swinging a thumb over his shoulder, pointing out the Mazda in the driveway.
“Okay,” Lane said. “Ten minutes. No longer, though.”
She took her hand away from his neck and climbed out. Jim stayed in the lead as she walked up the flagstones to the front stoop. He unlocked the door and held it open for her.
The air was cool.
The house was silent except for the hum of the air-conditioning system.
Jim didn’t call out to announce that he was home.
“Are you sure she’s here?” Lane asked.
“Might be sleeping. Or taking a bath. Who knows?”
They entered the kitchen. Lane leaned against a counter while Jim took a couple of cans from the refrigerator. The air smelled fresh. It was almost too cold on her skin. It chilled the damp back of her blouse.
Jim found glasses, dropped ice cubes into them, and filled them with soda.
A glass in each hand, he stepped in front of Lane. She reached for her drink. Instead of giving it to her, he stretched both arms past her sides and set the glasses on the counter. His arms closed around her, pulled her gently forward until their bodies met.
“What if your mother walks in?” Lane whispered close to his mouth.
“I don’t think she will.” He tugged the tail of her blouse out
of her skirt and slid his hands underneath.
Lane let herself sink against him. She kissed him.
Shouldn’t be doing this, she thought.
But she’d intended to kiss him good-bye, anyway. And his hands felt good roaming the bare skin of her back. And she liked the feel of his chest tight against her breasts. She could feel his breathing and his heartbeat.
He started to fumble with the catches of her bra.
She pulled her mouth away. “Oh no you don’t.”
“It’s all right.”
“No, it isn’t.”
He unfastened the bra anyway. She felt it go loose.
She grabbed Jim’s arms and pushed them down to his sides. “I said no, and I meant it.”
“Come on, what’s the harm?”
“For one thing, your mother.”
“She might be in town at the beauty parlor,” he said, smiling as if he expected Lane to appreciate the news.
“The car...”
“She usually goes with Mary from next door. Right about three on Fridays.”
“You knewshe wasn’t here?”
Still smiling, Jim shrugged.
“You lied to me.”
“Just a little fib.”
“Terrific,” she muttered, reaching up under the back of her blouse to fasten the bra.
“Come on, don’t do that.” He lifted his hands to her breasts.
“Cut it out.”
“Come on, you like it.”
“I told you...” She got one of the hooks fastened. He was squeezing, rubbing. She didlike it. “Damn it, Jim.” Not bothering with the other hook, she swung her hands around and pushed him away. “I have to leave.”
“No you don’t. Hey, come on.”
“This is what I get for trusting you, huh?”
“Look, I’m sorry I lied about Mom being here. Okay?” He looked into her eyes and gently held her shoulders. “I just figured you wouldn’t come in, and... we haven’t been together for weeks. I get crazy wanting to be with you. Sometimes, all I can think about is kissing you and how it feels to hold you. Especially after last time.”
“That was nice,” Lane said, remembering.
She had been under orders to be home by eleven, so they’d skipped the second feature at the movies and parked in the desert outside town. She’d refused Jim’s suggestion to get into the backseat. Staying in the front, they twisted themselves awkwardly to embrace and kiss. But it was wonderful. She felt daring and romantic and sexy in the moonlit car. Her blouse came off early. She managed to keep her bra on, though. In spite of Jim’s begging and his attempts to remove it. In spite of her own desire to rid herself of the garment and feel his touch without a stiff layer of cloth in the way. Finally she’d told him, “It’s almost time to leave.” He didn’t protest, simply nodded and murmured, “I guess so.” Reaching behind her back, Lane unhooked her bra. She took it off. His mouth fell open and he stared for a long time before touching. When he did touch her breasts, his hands were trembling.
The Stake Page 10
