Judgements - Cover

Judgements

Copyright© 2006 by Moghal

Chapter 51

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 51 - A socially inept young man follows his best friend to university hoping to find a better life, make friends and grow.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Teenagers   Consensual   Romantic   Rape   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Group Sex   First   Safe Sex   Oral Sex   Slow   School  

"No, look. All I'm saying is that the tunes can be played and sung without having to go flat-out, balls-to-the-wall full on, and still be valid."

Marcus walked out of the kitchen, shaking his head at the ongoing debate behind him, and went to answer the front door.

"But it'll always be a pale imitation of the original if it was written to be sung with energy. It'll never sound as good without it," Shawna countered.

"Did you listen to that CD I leant you?" Hope asked, as Marcus opened the door to find Lorraine and Tony on the doorstep.

"Come on in," he said.

Both of them paused at his tone, and then heard the raised voices from the kitchen.

"Marcus' comment, if I recall correctly, was 'Paul Anka is Satan. He managed to suck the soul out of some great music.'" They appeared in the doorway ready to drag him back into their argument, when they realised they had guests.

"Did you not hear the bell?" Marcus asked them, taking coats. The two blushed slightly.

"Did... Paul Anka is Satan?" Hope demanded, hands on hips.

"I couldn't believe someone could cover 'Smells Like Teen Spirit' and make it bland, but he managed it," Marcus said. "On the other hand, most of the Manilow stuff that was on there was good. She didn't tell you I said that bit."

"I'm glad you're talking about music, actually," Lorraine said, chewing her lip. Tony wrapped his arms around her for support. "I... I was wondering if you had room in the band for another musician."

"Our band?" Hope blurted. "But... you're a chorister."

"So are you!"

"I sing in the choir, but... I didn't realise you had any interest in this sort of music."

"Doesn't sound like you guys have decided what sort of music you're playing, yet," Tony said.

"I'll second that," Marcus muttered. Shawna and Hope, sharing a look at his tone, came to an instant decision.

"Give us a minute," Shawna said.

She took Hope's arm, and the pair disappeared back into the kitchen.

"Marcus'll freak if we change anything more on him," Hope pointed out, as soon as they were out of earshot.

"He needs time to get used to it," Shawna confirmed. "Let's... we still need a drummer, right?"

"Yes. I'm pretty sure Lorraine plays flute and piano. Oh, and cello."

"Doesn't exactly fit with our image, does it?"

"We have an image?" Hope said.

"Well, alright. No, we don't, but the kind of music we play doesn't have flutes or cellos."

"So what do we do?"

"Well, we need a drummer, so we tell her that we were planning on holding auditions. We'll tell Marcus. That'll give him the time to get used to the idea, and it'll give us time to give Lorraine some music so she can decide if she's actually into this sort of thing."

After a moment's thought, Hope said, "Sounds dangerously like a plan. How do we tell her, though?"

"Follow my lead."

They returned to the living area with nervous smiles.

"What's up?" Marcus asked, obviously confused, and Tony and Lorraine's expressions showed they were also.

"We... sorry, Marcus. We weren't going to break it to you like this," Shawna apologised, taking his hand and squeezing it. "We were going to audition drummers next week, and we've had a few people ask about the band, so... we like you, Lorraine, but it'd feel like we were cheating if we said yes to you now, after having made everyone else audition."

"No, that's fine," Lorraine said, accepting the situation. "I mean, I should have guessed I wouldn't be the first to ask."

"Thanks, Lorraine." Hope offered her a conciliatory smile.

"No, that's OK, really. I mean, it's not like you've heard me play any real music before, so I guess it's fair that I justify it. I've heard you guys play, you've all established your credentials."

"OK, cool," Shawna said. "I'll let you know later in the week when we're going to do it?"

"Well, if that's all settled, are you guys ready to leave?" Tony asked.

"Are you sure about this?" Hope asked, grabbing her coat as Marcus passed it to her. "I mean, if it's bad news is she really going to want us all clustered around?"

"It's Bri," Tony said. "I guarantee, regardless of how it goes, she'll want to have her friends around. We'll wait outside. She'll be able to tell Mum and Elspeth first, and then we'll find out when they've composed themselves."

"Alright. Come on then." Shawna said, clasping Marcus' hand tight. They headed out the door in single file, each wrapped in their own fears.


"Mrs Richardson," Elspeth said holding out her hand, hesitantly as Brianna opened the door.

"Oh, don't you dare, Elspeth." Brianna's mother batted the hand aside gently and wrapped her arms around the slightly taller woman in a tight hug. "And it's Carly, not 'Mrs Richardson.' Bri tells me you've been a wonder over the past week."

"I... I wasn't really doing..."

"Nonsense," Mr Richardson said as he followed his wife into the room with a tight smile, sparing a moment to kiss Brianna's forehead as he passed her. "You've kept her spirits up. We didn't always manage to do that."

"On the other hand," Mrs Richardson noted, stepping away from a blushing Elspeth, "we did manage to keep her relatively uninjured." Brianna held up the bandaged hand with a sheepish grin. "What happened?"

"I..." she began, and trailed off.

"Anger management," Elspeth explained archly. "She decided to take out her residual anger on some random lagered-up idiot last night."

"I was tense," Brianna admitted, putting the hand behind her back. "Elspeth did a good job of strapping it up, though."

"Are you still tense?" her dad asked, and for a moment her chin quivered, but she shook her head, ignoring the tears in her eyes.

"Nope. All ready."

"We should get going then." He swung his keys gently in one hand, the sad smile never quite slipping from his face. "You can tell us all about your 'anger management' session on the way."

The journey, despite the suggestion of conversation, was pretty much silent, and the tension grew as they approached the hospital. Elspeth, Brianna and her mother all got out at the main entrance while Mr Richardson went to park the car. By the time they'd found reception and been redirected to the ultrasound department, Mr Richardson was back, and they walked back outside and around the side of the building.

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