Unforgettable Weeks
Chapter 8

Copyright© 2015 by Jay Cantrell

Drama Sex Story: Chapter 8 - Two people from vastly different worlds shared one crazy night two months earlier. Regan Riley learned that life is sometimes serious and Andy Drayton learned that life can sometimes be fun. Now they've decided to see if they can overcome their differences and forge a relationship. This is the sequel to "Unending Night."

Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Consensual   Romantic   First   Oral Sex   Exhibitionism   Slow  

3:45 p.m. Monday

Regan and Joy walked back to their dormitory after their final class – Trigonometry.

"So I'm going to his house Friday night," Regan told Joy. "I'm a little nervous about meeting his mom. She sounds like a very formidable woman."

"She raised a formidable son," Joy said with a smile.

Regan glared at her friend.

"Well, he is," Joy persisted. "Mom asked me yesterday if I was planning to change my admission to San Jose State if things don't work out with you and him. She seemed to think it wouldn't be the worst idea in the world."

"Things will work out," Regan said through gritted teeth.

"I hope they do," Joy said. "I was just jerking your chain a little. But Andy is a pretty cool guy. He is going to make quite a splash at our dance."

"He'll be fine," Regan said. Her voice was clipped because she was still pissed that Joy appeared to have no problem announcing that she planned to make a run at her boyfriend if the chance arose.

"He will," Joy agreed. "Do you want to share a table with us?"

"Who are you going with?" Regan asked. She couldn't remember who Joy had mentioned as her date.

"Robert Holmes," Joy said with a frown. "Dad set it up."

"I think we'll find somewhere else to sit," Regan said.

"Maybe I can join you and leave Robert to sit alone with his ego," Joy replied, grinning.

"Don't make a play for Andy at the dance," Regan said, stopping and taking Joy by the upper arm.

"What?" Joy asked.

"You heard me," Regan said.

"I wouldn't do that," Joy said. "I was trying to be funny about what my mom said. I mean, I wanted you to know that I think Andy is a good guy. Sorry if I sounded, I don't know, like a slut or something. I didn't mean it that way. Besides, you don't have to worry about anything."

They resumed walking to the dorm.

"It's all so new to me," Regan said eventually. "I'm worried that I'm going to turn out to be something a lot different than Andy thinks I am."

"You're being silly," Joy told Regan. "I think Andy is going to like you more than ever the longer you're together. When I see you and Andy together, I don't know, it's like watching two halves become a whole."

"You think?" Regan asked.

"Oh, yeah," Joy said. "Even my mom said so. You'll be fine."

"So you liked him?" Regan asked unnecessarily.

"I thought he was great," Joy said. "He was, I don't know, real. I thought you were great, too. The way you took my dad down was awesome. 'Look, Billy, ' I loved it. The important thing is whether you like him."

"I really do," Regan said. "I know I told you about our first night together. We had such a great time. Then Saturday was perfect. It was perfect – everything I hoped it would be, everything I dreamed it would be. I was nervous about having him up here. I'm a little more nervous about the dance. I could control the situation up here. At the dance, it's going to be more difficult. I would really hate for someone to be a jackass to him. I'm not sure that I could keep from kicking someone's ass for her."

"Harmony is bringing her boyfriend," Joy advised. "Ruth probably has a date with the kid of one of her dad's business associates."

"I am already going to kick the shit out of Ruth as soon as my diploma is my hand," Regan said, her teeth gritted again. "Harmony better keep her boyfriend on a leash. I saw Andy put the hurt on a guy who was a lot scarier than Dirk Reynolds – and Harmony already knows that I'll kick her ass."

Joy laughed.

"Everyone knows you'll kick her ass," she said, covering her mouth with her hand. "Will you see him before Friday?"

"I wish," Regan said. "We'll talk on the phone. We found out something amazing yesterday and we have a lot to talk about it."

"What did you find out?" Joy asked.

"I can't say right now," Regan said. "But it's huge. I think it will be just what I need to get him to come to Stanford with me."

"With us," Joy corrected with a grin.

"Yes," Regan agreed with a frown. "With us."

"Oh, lighten up," Joy replied. "But you think he'll come to Stanford."

"I hope he does," Regan told her. "I ... I think if he goes somewhere else, I'll lose him."

"Why?" Joy asked.

"What's he going to do when all the coeds at San Jose State throw themselves at him," Regan answered with a frown.

Again, Joy laughed.

"He'll do the same thing he's done the past couple of months," Joy said. "He'll bide his time until he sees you again. Regan, look, Andy would be stupid to let you go."

"Because I'm rich," Regan said.

Joy shook her head.

"Because you're you," she replied.


5 p.m. Monday

Andy jumped when the phone rang. His mother wasn't home yet but he expected her any minute. He was fixing hamburgers and French fries for supper. He had fried the hamburgers as soon as he got home – because he expected Regan to call him as soon as her classes ended.

She hadn't. He had the burgers in a warming pan in the oven when a call finally came.

But it wasn't Regan.

"Andy?" the voice asked after he answered. "This is ... Evan, Evan Duffield."

"Hello, Sir," Andy said with a smile. Even if he had known other people named Evan, the British accent would have given it away.

"I think you can call me Evan, if you'd prefer," the man told him.

"Thank you," Andy replied automatically. "Mom isn't home from work yet."

"She got her job back?" Evan asked. Andy had told him that Camille had two jobs but, with all the other information that had been imparted, it hadn't stuck.

"Her first job," Andy said. "She has two – or she did. I finally convinced her that she should use my college money on herself. That account represents about six years of work at the bakery. Without me taking up a bunch of her money, she should be good with only one job now."

"Where else does she work, Andy?" Evan wondered.

"At Risotti's Towing," Andy answered. "She pretty much does everything but drive the trucks and sweep the floors."

Evan was quite for a moment.

"I expected bigger things from her," he admitted. "Your mom is, well, she is intelligent and driven."

"Well, things didn't work out that way," Andy said with a touch of heat in his voice. "Something about having a child to take care of all alone. She used her intelligence and drive to make sure I turned out well – even if it meant that she had to push her own dreams into the back."

"I'm sorry, Andy," Evan said. "That came out badly. I didn't mean it in the manner it was said. Please know that if I had any notion of how things truly were, I would not have allowed it to happen as it has."

"Allowed?" Andy asked, his back still up. "Evan, no offense, but Mom calls the shots. Things happened as she knew they would. She's had your number since you left. If she wanted your assistance, she would have contacted you. The fact that she didn't should tell you that she didn't need or want your help."

"Of course," Evan said. "Andy, I'm very off-kilter here. Please understand that. I believe that my words have come out in a way that I didn't intend. I was very fond of your mother. No, that's not correct. I am very fond of your mother. I have wished for my entire adult life that I had been able to convince your mother to marry me. Now that I know about you, I wish that I had been a part of your life from the outset – and if I had known, I would have done my utmost to do just that. Has your mother told you how we parted?"

"Some," Andy told him, his temper abated slightly. "I understand that my grandmother disliked the fact that you weren't Catholic. Mom had to choose between you and her and, as she has said, she chose badly."

"She said that?" Evan cut in. Andy thought there might have been a hint of hopefulness in the voice.

"Given the fact that we live in a subsidized apartment in a high-crime neighborhood and she works 100 hours a week just so we can eat macaroni and cheese, I think that it is a pretty obvious statement," Andy replied.

"Of course," Evan replied. The hopefulness Andy had heard before was gone. Was it possible that Evan Duffield, the Earl of Smithfield, still harbored feelings for a woman who had scraped and scrounged for everything in her life (and in his)?

Andy decided that the man could do a lot worse.

"So tell me a little more about yourself," Evan said.

"Well, I'm not sure where to start," Andy admitted. "I turn 18 on June 18th. I graduate high school in three weeks. I plan to attend San Jose State in the fall. I think I'm going to study business and marketing but my first year I'm going to take general classes to assess my options. But don't worry, I plan to stay away from a liberal arts degree. Those are worthless."

"Yes, I've heard that," Evan commented with a laugh. "If not for my family's holdings, my art history degree would probably have led me to seek out Cami for a loan."

"That would have been funny," Andy commented. "What happened after you left the United States?"

"I came back to England," Evan replied. "I went to the University of the Arts in London where I finished my worthless degree. Like your mother, I spent my young adulthood spiting my parents. They wished for me to attend Oxford – as my father had done – and find a nice, upper-class debutante for my bride. We would live in the country, have many proper English babies and live a perfectly miserable existence – as my family had done for generations."

"Instead, I flew off to America," Evan continued. "I planned to be a surfer and become a sculptor. The only flaw in my plan was that I lacked the talent to do either. Instead, I transferred into the art history program at St. Mary's, met your mother and fell in love."

"I'll bet your parents were as thrilled as Mom's," Andy remarked dryly.

"Oh, they were a bit upset until they met Cami for the first time," Evan agreed. "She came over for Christmas and she completely won them over. My mother found a kindred spirit in yours. My mother had longed for a life outside of society. She wanted a job. She wanted to have a life of meaning instead of a life of relative privilege. Your mother was the same way. Cami was studying to be a veterinarian, did you know that?"

"I didn't," Andy admitted.

"Oh, yes," Evan said, his voice filled with happiness. "And she would have been dandy. She was only a freshman when we met. I was smitten from the first moment I spoke to her. But I always knew she would be successful at whatever path she chose. I believe from that moment, I wished for nothing less than a life by her side. I was saddened beyond belief when first she told me she had to consider my proposal and then decided against it. I tucked my tail between my legs and returned to England. St. Mary's was too small for us not to see each other occasionally and I knew I could not bear that. I quit school and came home the week after she told me she wouldn't consent to marry me."

All the happiness that Andy had heard in the previous few moments was gone as Evan relived that moment of his life – the bitterest disappointment he had ever experienced. Andy thought it best to change the subject.

"So did you work in a museum or anything after you graduated?" he asked.

"For a while," Evan said. "My father took ill shortly after I began my career. Although our holdings are far less extensive than in the past, they do require someone to look after them. I had always believed it would be my mother. Instead, she foisted the responsibility off to me and began the life she had always wished to lead. Would you believe that your grandmother runs a daycare?"

"I will assume that you mean your mother and not Mom's," Andy commented. "That hateful old woman would be just as likely to smother them with a pillow as to nurture them."

"Indeed," Evan said. Andy detected the trace of anger in Evan's voice that mirrored the one in his own.

"Uh, so your mother is still alive?" Andy asked hesitantly.

"Oh, yes," Evan replied brightly. "Alive and well, spry and spritely and all that. It was all I could do to refrain from calling her to tell her about you. She will be singularly pleased to know that she has a grandchild – and then she will throttle me for not keeping tabs on Cami, thereby denying her the right and privilege of spoiling you rotten. But I believed that it would be best to wait to see if you elect to meet me before I raise her hopes."

"Meet you?" Andy asked. It was something he had never considered. In his mind he would speak to Evan Duffield a time or two, glean information about his family roots and that would the end of it. Now the man was talking about developing a long-term relationship. Andy instantly realized that he was being foolish. Of course the man would want to meet and to get to know about his progeny.

Andy's attention was diverted as it had been the night before – by the opening of the front door. The culprit was the same, too – his mother was home.

Camille saw her son with a telephone to his ear and rolled her eyes. Andy had spent more time on the phone in the past few days than he had in the past year.

Rather than speak to his mother, he handed her the phone.

"I need to get supper," he said simply. "I think there is someone on the line who would really like to speak to you."

Camille looked at the phone as though her son had handed her a live rattlesnake. Andy winked and headed to the kitchen. His mother had two choices – hang up or say hello. She chose the latter.

"Hello, Evan," she said.

"Camille," Evan replied. The tone of his voice betrayed his emotions. "Camille."

"How have you been?" Camille asked, unsure of what to say.

"Well, I can say that I've been a bit overwhelmed today," the British voice replied. "It started this morning when I got the strangest call. A young man claiming to be my son – and your son – wanted to speak to me. I knew it had to be an imposter. Surely you wouldn't keep something as important as that hidden from me for almost 20 years!"

"You know damned well that I did!" Camille fired back. "I knew what you'd do. You'd be all gallant and come riding to the rescue. I didn't want to be rescued. I made my decision and I'll suffer the consequences. If that's all you wanted to say, I suppose we should go. I know it's after midnight there."

"Wait!" Evan called out. "That's not all I want to say. I'm sorry but you had to know I would be perturbed by this news."

"Which is why I had no intention of ever telling you," Camille replied. "If I hadn't lost my temper at Andy yesterday he never would have known – and neither would you."

"That is singularly unfair!" Evan retorted. "Cami, I'm not the bad guy here. I don't think I ever raised my voice to you - not even once. I worshipped you from the first moment I met you."

The man's voice went softer.

"And 19 years hasn't changed that a bit," he said, almost to himself. Still, Camille heard.

"You're right, Evan, it is unfair," she agreed. "As he has grown, Andy has reminded me so much of you. He's almost the same age now as you were when we met. He looks so much like you it's uncanny but what's worse is that he acts like you. Did he tell you how he met his girlfriend?"

"No," Evan replied. "Our conversation has been fairly superficial."

"I suppose I knew that," Camille said with a frown. "He's like you in that way, too. He's very reluctant to let people get to know him. He keeps his own counsel. I recall that you were standoffish, too."

"True," Evan said. "Tell me about his girlfriend. I think he said her name but I don't remember it."

"Her name is Regan," Camille related. "She comes from a very influential family, if you can believe that."

"Really?" Evan asked incredulously. "I understand your financial situation was such that such a meeting would be unlikely. Do they go to school together?"

"They met on the highway," Camille said. "She had this idiotic idea to walk from her prep school to the city because she was on restriction. She ran into a bit of trouble and Andy helped her out. It's a very convoluted story."

"Quite," Evan said with a laugh. "You do realize that he's selected someone just like his Mum, don't you? I seem to recall a young woman sneaking out her dormitory for a midnight showing of the 'The Rocky Horror Picture Show.'"

"I had forgotten about that," Camille said, joining Evan in laughter. "I was thinking more about a young Brit who stood up to two townies at the Do Drop Inn!"

"I thought you worth fighting for," Evan said simply.

"You didn't even know me!" Camille replied. She had sat down on the couch and couldn't see the look of contentment on her son's face. He had never seen his mother have a relaxed conversation with a man. He hoped it might bode well for her happiness.


7:45 a.m. Tuesday

Elizabeth waited for Andy in the parking lot for the second day in a row.

"Your phone was off the hook all night!" she said as soon as he stepped out of his car.

"What?" Andy asked. He was bummed because Regan hadn't called, even though she said she would.

"Your phone was off the hook all night!" Elizabeth repeated. "Regan called a dozen times and she only got a busy signal. She finally called me to see if I could go over but I was shopping with my mom. I knew I couldn't get to your place before her school cut the phones off."

"My phone wasn't off the hook," Andy answered, still a bit confused. Then realization dawned on him. His mother had spent several hours talking to, well, his father.

"Shit," he muttered. "Mom was on the phone all evening. I have to get my cell phone replaced. I wish I hadn't spent $50 on a phone card."

"Why did you need a phone card?" Elizabeth wondered. "I thought Regan always called you."

"Uh, for something else," Andy said hesitantly.

Elizabeth just glared at him.

"It's personal," Andy said. "OK? Can we leave it at that?"

"Regan was pretty upset," Elizabeth replied.

"So am I!" Andy said. "Look, Mom told me who my father is. OK? I got a phone card so I could call him. He and Mom were talking last night. They might still be talking for all I know."

"Your Dad?" Elizabeth asked. She had stopped in the hallway. "You've never mentioned him. I ... I guess I assumed he was dead or something."

"He's not," Andy said. "He just doesn't live nearby. They hadn't spoken in a while and they wanted to catch up, I guess."

"Don't you have call waiting?" Elizabeth wondered. She immediately felt foolish. Any additional features on a phone line cost money – money that the Draytons had far better uses for. "No, I'm sure you don't. Will you be able to talk to Regan tonight?"

"I don't know," Andy admitted. "I mean, Mom pays the phone bill. I can't just kick her off if she wants to use it. If Regan calls, will you explain what's going on?"

"Does she know about your dad?" Elizabeth asked.

"I told her all about him," Andy replied. "She probably knows more about him than I do at this point. I'm sure she'll understand."

"She had a lot of questions about this weekend," Elizabeth told him. "She's really nervous about meeting your mom."

"I know she is," Andy said in a calmer voice. "I'll find a way to talk to her. I was a little disappointed when I didn't hear from her last night. I didn't realize that Mom was still on the phone. Like I said, they had an awful lot to talk about. I'm sure Regan will understand."

Elizabeth continued to look at Andy but finally nodded.

"Try to talk to her tonight," she said. "She's going to call you right after her classes let out – probably around four o'clock. Can you try to keep the phone free until then?"

"I'll try," Andy replied. He turned to walk to his locker but Elizabeth captured his elbow.

"Have you thought about what we talked about yesterday?" she inquired. Andy couldn't recall much of anything about his chat with Elizabeth a day earlier. He had been operating on only two hours of sleep and the whole day had turned into a blur.

"About Stanford?" Elizabeth pressed when she saw his face go blank.

"There isn't much to think about," Andy answered with a shrug. "Look, I investigated every possible way. The money just isn't there unless I take it from what Mom set aside. I'm not going to do that. I'm comfortable with my decision."

"So you're saying you wouldn't prefer to go to Stanford?" Elizabeth asked.

"I'm saying I'll be OK wherever I go," Andy countered. "In a perfect world, yeah, Stanford would be above San Jose State on my list. But so would a lot of schools. It's not a perfect world, Elizabeth."

"I know it isn't," Elizabeth replied.

"I'm not sure you do," Andy rejoined in a tight voice. "You've got scholarship offers coming out of your ying-yang. You have dozens of schools vying for the valedictorian and the cheer captain and the homecoming queen. I don't have any of that. The Rotary Scholarship you won? Guess who the other finalist was. The same with the Civic Leaders award. The same with the Leland Stanford Grant from the university. You got it and I came in second. The woman from Stanford told me that I was lacking in extracurricular activities. She didn't think working almost full-time while going to high school counted. My grades were fine; my essay was fine; my ACT score was fine. I spent my evenings at a warehouse or in a stockroom instead of on a football field so I go to San Jose State. It told her that I could have helped at a homeless shelter if I hadn't worked – because that's where I would have been living – but it didn't matter. So because your Mom and Dad make enough money for you to do silly, meaningless shit after school and my mother doesn't, you get to head to Stanford and someone else will pay for you to go. That's pretty fucked up if you ask me."

Elizabeth Pena stood stunned in the middle of the hallway. A small crowd had gathered and everyone within earshot was watching intently. No one spoke to Elizabeth that way – at least not in public.

"I didn't look at it that way," she admitted in a small voice. She was looking at the floor. She knew she wasn't smarter than Andy. She had enough classes with him to understand how bright he was. Her family had stressed the importance of extracurricular activities. Part of her knew it was because college recruiters looked for those things when comparing students. Indeed, Elizabeth had dozens of scholarships from local businesses and civic organizations to pay her way to school. She hadn't realized that Andy had applied for the same scholarships – even though she should have.

"I shouldn't have dumped that on you," Andy said contritely. "I haven't slept a lot this week and this is something that's bothered me for a while. The guidance counselor told me when I was a sophomore that it would be this way – that my lack of outside activities would hurt my college chances. It's not your fault."

"It's not your fault either!" Elizabeth said. Her eyes were moist with tears. "The system is just so screwed up!"

"San Jose State is good school," Andy said, patting Elizabeth on the shoulder. "Like I said, I'll be fine there."

"But you'd rather go to Stanford if the money were there?" Elizabeth asked.

"It's not there," Andy said. "I applied for every grant under the sun. I applied for scholarships from civic organizations, for grants from ecological groups, for money for left-handed redheads to go to school. I'm still short about six grand a year for Stanford. They offered a partial scholarship – about $1,000 a semester. That still means Mom would have to come up with $4,000 each year. That doesn't count any incidentals like pizza or a night out. With the difference in tuition at San Jose State, my grants cover everything with money left over – actually, with quite a bit of money left over. I can go to San Jose State for a full year for what it costs to go to Stanford for a semester. It wasn't a hard choice to make, Elizabeth, and it's a choice I'm comfortable with."

Elizabeth nodded and walked to her locker without looking back. Andy might be comfortable with his decision but she wasn't. He wanted to go to Stanford. She could see that in his face and from the way he avoided answering the question directly.

She decided she had six days to find someone willing to pay Andy's way to the university he wanted to attend.


3:45 p.m. Tuesday

"You're a Grumpy Gus today," Joy said as she gently elbowed Regan in the ribs. "What's bothering you?"

"It's Andy," Regan said after a moment.

"What's up?" Joy wondered. "Does this have something to do with the big secret you found out?"

"Big secret?" Regan asked before her mind caught up to what Joy was talking about. "Oh, no. It has nothing to do with that. That's actually a pretty good thing. At least I think so. He avoided my calls last night. He took his phone off the hook."

"Why didn't you call his cell?" Joy asked.

"He doesn't have one," Regan told her.

"He doesn't have one?" Joy asked, incredulousness dripping from her voice.

"He did," Regan said quickly. "It got broken the night we met."

"That was like two months ago!" Joy noted. She hadn't been without a cell phone since she was 11 years old.

"They're expensive and he couldn't afford it," Regan said with a touch of heat in her voice. "You forget: He's not like us. He doesn't have every whim met within seconds. His phone got broken and he was saving money to get a new one. He needed that money for something else so he doesn't have a phone. OK?"

Joy nodded but shrugged.

"Why don't you buy him one?" she asked.

"You do not understand a single thing about Andy!" Regan shouted. "His mother scrimped and saved for 15 years so he could go anywhere to college he wanted. What did he do? He found a way to pay for it himself so she could use the money for herself. Do you really think he'd let me buy him a phone? For Christ's sake, he didn't even cash the check I sent him for driving me across the city chasing your dumb asses."

"It's only a phone," Joy said. "I'm not suggesting you book him a trip to Europe or anything."

"What do you know about that?" Regan hissed, spinning around and taking Joy's elbow to stop her. "Have you been snooping on my computer? Or was it that stupid bitch I share a room with?"

"You've lost your mind," Joy said, holding her hands up in front of her to keep Regan from taking a swing at her. "No one has been looking at your computer. Well, at least I know I haven't. I don't know what Ruth gets up to but I don't think she's as bad as you make her out to be. Do you mean you're planning to try to get Andy to go to Europe with you?"

"No!" Regan said. She let out a long breath and stepped back. She closed her eyes for a moment to regain her temper.

"Look, I can't help you through this if you don't tell me why you're mad," Joy pointed out. "Yeah, I guess I understand about the phone. It really doesn't make sense to me but I don't have the sort of individual pride that Andy seems to. I was only making a joke about Europe. I didn't mean to set you off. I still don't understand how I make you angry but I'll stay away from the topic if you want."

"I just want to know that I haven't done something to piss Andy off at me," Regan said. "I didn't mean to jump on you. I told one of his friends from school that I was trying to find a way for him to join us at Stanford. When I couldn't get in touch with him last night, I called her and she said she told him what I was doing. I'm worried that I overstepped. I have to understand that I can't buy him. As for Europe, it's part of what I found out about Andy."

"Is he the long lost son of last King of Zanzibar?" Joy asked with a laugh.

Regan studied her friend for a moment. Keeping Andy's secret was driving her crazy. She made a decision and pulled Joy to a bench. Regan fished her tablet out of her backpack and did an image search for the Earl of Smithfield. When Evan's picture, in full English regalia, popped up on the screen, she passed the tablet to a befuddled Joy Dalrymple.

Joy looked at it for a moment and then at Regan.

"Are you fucking with me?" she asked. Her eyes were wide. There was no mistaking the resemblance between the Earl of Smithfield and Andy Drayton. "Is this an uncle or something?"

"His father," Regan said in a whisper.

"No shit!" Joy said a little louder than she meant. She covered her mouth with her hand and looked back at the picture. "Does he know?"

"Andy does," Regan replied.

"The dude is a freakin' royal!" Joy said – again louder than she intended.

"According to Evan Duffield's bio, Andy is his only child," Regan related. "The man never married and he has no other children."

"And this motherfucker hasn't paid a penny – or a farthing or whatever – to Andy's mom in all these years?" Joy hissed. "I would have that cocksucker's ass in a sling!"

"Evan Duffield doesn't know about Andy," Regan said. "Or at least Andy's Mom said she kept it hidden from him. That's all I know. I hoped to get a little more information from Andy last night. But, like I said, his phone was off the hook all night."

Joy looked at Regan for a moment before reaching into her own backpack and retrieving her smart phone.

"Who are you calling?" Regan asked.

"My mom," Joy said as she punched the button. She didn't get the device to her ear before Regan snatched it out of her hand and disconnected the call.

"No!" she said firmly. "This is Andy's story to tell. I do not want this showing up in the newspaper! It would crush him."

"I wasn't going to say anything to Mom about that," Joy said. "I'm going to have her buy Andy a fucking cell phone. I don't care if he thinks I'm trying to buy his friendship or not. Hell, the way he and Mom got along at lunch the other day she might want his digits herself."

"Don't," Regan said.

"Regan, there comes a time when a person needs to put away his pride," Joy said firmly. "You and he have a lot to talk about. I'm sure there was a reason his phone wasn't working last night. He didn't strike me as the sort who would play games with you like that. If he was unhappy with you, he would have told you so. Don't you think so?"

Regan considered the question and nodded.

"He needs a cell phone," Joy continued. "You said he drives 20 miles to work up that crappy road. What would happen if he broke down? You've walked that road. Would you want him doing that?"

Regan frowned. She hadn't considered that aspect of the argument. Joy was holding her hand out for Regan to return her phone.

"If I get to talk to him tonight I'll ask him," Regan said.

"If you haven't talked to him by supper, I'm having Mom go over there," Joy promised. "You can get a prepaid cell for $75 and service costs about $30 a month. I'll do this and you know I will."

"I just don't want money to come between us," Regan said with a sigh. "I'm worried that his father was an asshole to him. I'm worried that I pissed him off by trying to get him to come to Stanford. I'm worried that his mother hates me because my family is wealthy. I'm worried about a lot of things and it all comes down to the fact I'm rich and he's poor."

"You need to talk to him," Joy said firmly.

"I know I do!" Regan said. "But I can't very well walk down there tonight. Even if I could, he's told me his neighborhood isn't safe. He'd really be pissed at me if I showed up at his apartment."

"Then call your Dad or I can call my Mom," Joy said. "One of them can drive over to his apartment. Or call his Mom at work. She'll get a message to him."

"I'll wait until we get back to the dorm and see if he's home," Regan said. "If the line is still busy or if he won't pick up, we'll sit down and figure out how to get in touch with him."

Joy nodded. She put her arm around Regan as they walked back to the dorm. At least her father would be happy that she was becoming closer to Rita Riley's only child.

Edited By BlackIrish; Proofread by The Old Fart.

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