And all day long she wondered what Nick Angelo was doing.
At night she lay in bed and thought about her future. Only another two
years and she'd be out of school. She was already campaigning for
enrollment in an Eastern college. Her parents said Kansas City was as
far as they'd let her go, but she had her mind set on New York.
Meg came by the house to find out about the New Year's dance.
"What are you wearing?" As usual she was obsessed with clothes.
"I haven't thought about it," Lauren replied vaguely. "Maybe that
dress I wore to my engagement party."
Meg frowned. "You can't wear the same thing again."
"Ye I rn" she said stubbornly.
"What's the matter with you? You're so. . . sort of. . . different
lately."
Lauren wondered if she was different. All she ever thought about was
Nick. On his birthday he'd seemed so sensitive and understanding, and
the night of the play, when he'd kissed her, it was definitely
something special. She couldn't believe he'd practically attacked
Meg.
The truth was that Meg had probably encouraged him and then backed off
at the last moment, always a dangerous practice.
"I'm wearing black," Meg announced dramatically.
"That's exciting," Lauren murmured. Frankly she couldn't care less.
The night of the New Year's dance there was thick snow on the ground.
Lauren stared out her window watching the snowflakes falling. She
wondered if she could get out of going altogether.
No such luck. Stock called to announce he would be picking her up at
seven. "Be ready," he said.
God, he was so overbearing. When had she ever kept him waiting?
New Year's resolution: Get out of this engagement once and for all.
Stop thinking about it and do it.
For a Christmas present the Brownings had insisted she visit their
store and pick out an outfit. She'd done so reluctantly, and only at
her mother's insistence. She'd chosen a short black off-the-shoulder
dress. When her mother saw it she had a fit. "You can't possibly wear
that, it's quite unsuitable."
"Why?"
"It's too sophisticated. Besides, young girls don't wear black."
"This young girl kind of likes the idea."
Jane sighed. "I don't know what's the matter with you lately, you're
so argumentative."
Hmmm. Had she and Meg been talking?
Stock arrived with a corsage of white orchids and an appreciative
"Wow!
You look-" He was about to say "sexy," but since Mr. and Mrs. Roberts
were hovering in the front hall he changed it to "sensational."
She smiled; for once he'd said the right thing.
Jane produced her camera. "Photo time!" she exclaimed gaily.
Dutifully she posed for a picture with Stock, then kissed her parents,
said "See you later" and left the house. usually there was a
discussion about what time her curfew was, but since it was New Year's
Eve and she was with Stock, it didn't seem to matter. All they were
interested in was cementing the deal.
Mack Ryan was waiting in the car, and they set off to pick up Meg.
When they arrived at her house she gave Lauren a filthy look. "You
didn't tell me you bought a black dress. How could you? I'm wearing
black," she muttered furiously. "And you knew I was."
Lauren shrugged; quite truthfully she'd forgotten. "It doesn't make
any difference. We don't look alike."
"I wanted to stand out," Meg said, shaking her head petulantly.
"Now we look like twins!"
"You do stand out," Lauren replied, thinking that her friend had put on
a pound or two.
"No. You do," Meg said. "It's always you."
They got to the dance late, having stopped to drink some champagne in
the car. Lauren wasn't used to drinking-she hated the taste, but she'd
decided this New Year's was going to be different from any other. It
was time she grew up.
When they arrived the dance was in full progress. Stock grabbed her by
the arm, cutting a swath through his cronies as he led her onto the
dance floor. "You're looking hot tonight," he said. "I didn't want to
say it in front of your parents but, boy, have you got a body!"
Was this the first time he'd noticed? She decided to respond in
kind.
"Boy, have you got a body, too!"
He wasn't quite sure how to take this, so he pretended he hadn't heard,
and began to gyrate his hips to the strains of "Honky Tonk Woman"
played by the local band. Not quite Mick Jagger-as a matter of fact
not even close.
Lauren felt a little dizzy as she started to dance, her eyes
continually searching the room.
What are you looking for, Roberts?
I'm looking for Nick Angelo. Want to make something out of it?
She glared at him.
"One of these days you're gonna realize you're taking it out on the
wrong person," he said, trying to fix his stupid bow tie.
"When that day comes I'll let you know," she replied, brushing back her
long dark hair.
"Gee, I'm holding my breath," he said, irritated by her pissy
attitude.
They were interrupted by the sound of banging and screaming coming from
the trailer next door. It was nothing new-ever since Christmas, Primo
and Aretha Mae had been at each other's throat.
Cyndra glared at him with a spiteful expression as if it was his
fault.
"Maybe you won't be around here much longer."
"How many times I gotta tell you? This wasn't my choice."
"You belong to him, an' he ain't nothin' but dirt," she said
vengefully.
"Yeah . . . well, let me tell you this-you belong to him too."
Her eyes were full of fury. "I don't believe it."
"Are you telling me your ma lied to you, is that it?"
Her dark eyes continued to blaze brightly. "I don't believe that dumb
ox is my father."
"He is. Get used to it."
Joey arrived to pick her up on his motorcycle.
Cyndra stood at the door of the trailer peering out with an angry
expression. "It's snowing," she said. "How we gonna get anywhere on
that?"
Joey produced a rolled-up plastic raincoat, unrolled it with a flourish
and threw it over her. "There you go. How's that for service?"
"Oh, this is classy," she grumbled. "A real classy date."
"What did you expect? A Kennedy?"
"Nothing," she said, her lip curling sourly. "Absolutely nothing."
Nick had been planning to ask Primo if he could borrow the van, but
what with all that screaming coming from the trailer he decided to ride
his bike over to Dawn's and see if they could borrow her mother's
car.
He hated the rented tux, it was too big for him, and what the hell was
he supposed to wear on his feet?
Fuck em. He'd wear his sneakers, and if anybody had anything to say
about it he'd punch em in the mouth.
To Nick's surprise, Cyndra said yes when Joey asked her to the dance.
"I hear you're oin with Ioey," he said.
Harlan told him he looked nice. Luke stared at him like a zombie.
It occurred to Nick that the kid should be getting some kind of
profession
al help. Fat chance.
"What are you two doin' tonight?" he asked.
Silly question. What could they do? They had no way of getting into
town unless they walked, and the snow was pretty deep on the ground.
They couldn't even slip into the other trailer and watch television on
account of the fact that Aretha Mae and Primo were busy killing each
other.
"Tell you what," he said, trying to cheer them up. "Tomorrow I'll
treat you both to the movleS.
Harlan nodded, his face lighting up.
He set off for Dawn's on the bike. It was a long ride and by the time
he got there he was soaked through.
Dawn greeted him wearing the tightest dress he'd ever seen. She did
not believe in leaving anything to the imagination.
"Great date you are!" she said, shaking her head. "We've gotta get
you dry before we can go anywhere."
"Can we borrow your mom's car?"
"It's all ours, handsome. She was gonna use it, but then she passed
out. C'mon, get your clothes off, Il try to dry em."
He followed her upstairs to her room and stripped. Two large posters
of Elvis Presley sneered down at him.
She ran an appreciative eye up and down his body. "Hmm.
sure you wanna go to the dance? My mom won't surface until tomorrow.
"Hey, I didn't ride all the way into Ripley to hire a freakin' tux to
sit at home."
She winked suggestively. "Sitting wasn't what I had in mind."
"We can do that later, okay?"
"Whatever you want, big boy."
That was the thing about Dawn, she was much too obliging.
Lauren spotted him the moment he came in. In a way she hadn't expected
him to turn up. In another way she'd hoped he would. And now here he
was with Dawn hanging onto his arm like a leech.
She tried not to stare-she certainly didn't want him catching her.
He looked great in his tuxedo, even if it was a little big. He'd
obviously made an effort. Was it because of Dawn? Bitch!
Lauren immediately felt guilty. The trouble was that Dawn wasn't a
bitch at all, she was a perfectly pleasant girl who just happened to be
the school tramp. Lauren suspected Stock had slept with her. Not that
he admitted it. Not that she cared.
Stock was having a fine time twirling her around the dance floor, full
of himself as usual.
"Let's get a drink," she said breathlessly, breaking away.
He beamed. "That's more like it. How about going for the rest of the
champagne out in my car?"
"I meant a soft drink."
"Excuse me.
She hated it when he tried to be sarcastic.
Over by the bar Nick handed Dawn a glass of watered-down punch.
"Try this poison."
Her eyes scanned the room and she shook her head. "I dunno what we're
doing here. We shoulda gone to Ripley." She threw him a sly look.
"Or stayed home."
He had to agree with her, they didn't belong.
Dawn swallowed a fake yawn, "We came, we saw, we got bored.
Let's get the hell outta here, we can have more fun at my house. I
show you mine if you show me yours!"
He wasn't prepared to leave until he'd seen Lauren. After all, she was
the reason he'd hired a tuxedo and shown up.
"Hey, you told me you were such a hotshot dancer. How about showing em
what a real dancer can do?"
Dawn was always up for a challenge. "Honey, I can beat any of em.
Anytime. Any way.
"What are we waitin' for?" He pulled her onto the crowded floor.
Not that he was into dancing, but he could make the moves if he had
to.
Dawn enjoyed showing off. She had her assets and she knew how to shake
them-especially in her favorite tight dress.
A small crowd gathered as they put on a show.
And then he spotted Lauren. She was sitting at a table with Stock and
a group of his friends, and naturally she looked sensational.
He knew he had to make a move. He didn't know what he was going to do
or when he was going to do it, but he wasn't leaving until he did.
o?" Joey asked, leaning across the small table. "Do you like to
dance?"
"No," Cyndra said, checking out the room with her dark moody eyes,
wondering why Joey had invited her.
"How come?"
"How come what?" she snapped. "Just because I'm half black I'm
supposed to have rhythm?"
"I didn't say that."
"No, but you sure thought it. Is that why you asked me tonight?
Black chick ain't got no morals-she'll be easy."
"Huh?"
"You heard me."
"I heard someone with a big hang-up."
"What?"
"A hang-ulike in chip-on-the-shoulder shit."
She smoothed down the skirt of her green velvet dress-purchased at a
secondhand shopand tried to compose herself. She certainly hadn't
dressed up and come out to get involved in a slanging match.
"I don't have no chip," she said, controlling her temper.
"Maybe you should," he remarked. "It's a lousy deal-black mother,
white dad-you can't figure out what color you are."
Unexpectedly tears stung her eyes. He was right on, she wasn't one
thing or the other and it hurt.
"My dad was Jewish," Joey continued. "A Jewish cop in Chicago married
to a nice Irish Catholic girl. I never tell anyone I'm half Jewish,
it's not worth the aggravation."
"What aggravation?"
"Y'know-the name calling, the dirty words. You know."
Yes. She knew, all right. Mr. Browning crying out "Black cunt!" in
the throes of his lust. Every man she ever met looking her over like
she was there for the taking.
"You gotta learn to live with it," Joey said wisely. "I did."
She sneaked a quick glance at him. He was kind of funny-looking, tall
and lanky with a shock of brown hair, a lopsided grin and crooked
teeth. She didn't know why she'd accepted his invitation. Maybe
because it was the first time anyone had asked her anywhere formal.
"Wanna dance?" He jerked his thumb toward the crowded floor.
She saw Nick out there breaking his butt with Dawn Kovak to the strains
of "Sugar Sugar."
"I . . . I don't think so."
He noticed her watching. "What've you got against him?" he asked.
She shifted uncomfortably. "Who?"
"Nick. What's he done to you?"
"He came here, that's what," she said fiercely.
"It wasn't his choice," Joey said, taking a pack of Camels from his
pocket and offering her one. "He's a cool guy. You should give him a
chance."
She waved the pack of cigarettes away. "You don't understand."
"Maybe one day you'll explain it to me. Sometimes it's good to talk
-get it out in the open." He paused, realizing he was dealing with a
touchy subject. "Whenever you like-I'm here. Okay?"
She narrowed her eyes and regarded him suspiciously. "What do you want
from me?"
He shrugged. "Nothin', if that's all right with you."
"What time is it?" Meg asked, clinging to Mack Ryan as if they were
the engaged couple.
Stock consulted his expensive waterproof watch-a present from his
parents. "Twenty-five minutes before midnight
. Come five past an were
on ourway.
"You got it," said Mack, placing his hand on the back of Meg's neck and
giving her a rub and a tickle. "This little lady an' I-we want some
privacy."
Meg giggled. "We do?" she said coquettishly.
Sure, Lauren thought. And tomorrow this little lady is going to be
complaining about how you nearly raped her.
"Are we gonna party tonight!" Stock proclaimed.
American Star Page 13
