Chapter 42: Sammy Makes Decision to 'Wait and See'

When I returned home from helping Mr. Avella rearrange his office there was a note saying that Miss Baker had called. The note was in Heather's handwriting but she was not in the house; I decided she was dodging me. There was another note indicating my mother was shopping so I was alone in the house. I dialed Pricilla's number.

"Sammy, you understand that you are not welcome here tonight? You mustn't come. You would just spoil things," Priscilla said, trying to sound demanding but I could tell she was nervous and very uncertain of herself. I decided to go easy on her, saying that I would respect her wishes. But then I had an idea.

"Do you have a tape recorder?"

"I think so. Are you suggesting I record them? I couldn't do that. You wouldn't want to listen to Gina having sex, would you?"

"A recording could come in handy. What if Aaron denies that he went through with it? What if he says Gina wouldn't put out? We need to be able to prove that he screwed Gina. Otherwise there's no point in letting Gina fuck him. He saw us but he won't let me watch him. Unless you agree to record it I'm not going to let Gina go through with it."

"Sammy, you have no control over her. Gina's going to go through with it regardless of what you say. But I see your point about needing proof. I don't trust Aaron to keep his word. We need something to make him think twice about turning me in. Oh, Sammy, why did I let him watch us?"

"It was my fault. I thought we were getting him worked up but the next thing I knew, we were going all the way. I should have stopped."

"It wasn't your fault Sammy. I didn't want you to stop. I do wish Aaron was not watching though."

"Do you have a tape recorder?"

"Yes but I've never used it to record anything," Priscilla said.

"I'm coming over. We'll set it up," I said, hanging up before she could say anything. If I had not stopped to put on running shoes I would have missed the phone call from Greg Dustin.

"Sammy, are you and Gina going to the party tonight? I was hoping we could spend some time finishing the interview," Greg said. I told him that I was unaware of a party; Gina had not mentioned it to me.

"It's being held at Barry Archer's house. Do you know where he lives?" Greg asked.

"I don't even know Barry Archer," I said, laughing.

"Gina knows where it is. She'll be driving anyway, won't she?"

"Hah Greg, Gina's busy with something else tonight," I said, not wanting to reveal that Gina would be busy fucking Aaron.

"I'll pick you up at 8:30. Barry won't like for us to show up stag so I'll arrange for dates. Anyone special you fancy or would you like to be surprised?" Greg said, so matter-of-factly that I couldn't refuse his invitation. Besides, going to a party would keep my mind occupied.

"There's only one girl I can think of but she probably wouldn't want to be seen with a sophomore," I said, thinking of how Trisha would laugh at the idea of being my date.

"Name her. You never know until you ask," Greg said.

"Trisha," I said without hesitation.

"Sorry chap, she's taken. Trisha is going to be my date tonight."

"Oh," I said, feeling deflated like when the air escapes a smashed tennis ball.

"Just curious, are you and Gina on the outs?"

"No, nothing like that. She's just got something else to do, that's all," I said, attempting a laugh that didn't materialize.

"That's all I needed to know. See you at eight-thirty," he said.

"Wait, Greg," I said, thinking of something. I told him I would call him back if I needed his help getting a date.

It took me five minutes to convince Becky that it was not a date. I explained that Barry Archer would not take kindly to my showing up at his house without a girl on my arm. She was still skeptical, wanting assurance that Gina would not take offence to our being seen together. Finally, when she had tried my patience, I gave her one last chance to accept or refuse my offer. "Becky, it's not like I'm proposing marriage. I need to take a female to a party, that's all there is to it. Since you're the smartest girl in the sophomore class I would like to take you because I know you can carry on an intelligent conversation. Will you go with me or not?"

"I'm the smartest person in the sophomore class; not just the smartest female," she corrected me.

"We'll know that when the first quarter report cards are handed out, won't we?" I countered, liking how she kept me guessing. Was she interested in going to the party with me or was she searching for a way to say no?

"You just want me for my brain," she teased.

"Okay, you're the cutest girl in the sophomore class," I said, trying to sound exasperated. Actually, I was enjoying the exchange.

"What should I wear?" She asked, erasing the cloud that was hovering over me. She was accepting. I tried to think of how she dressed for school. There was nothing memorable about her wardrobe.

"Dress like a tomboy," I said. "I want everyone to notice that you're smart, not that you're cute, too."

"I can do that," she said, seemingly satisfied with my suggestion that she wear something simple, not sexy.

I considered stopping to pick up a tape as I ran through the business district on the way to Pricilla's apartment but decided to take a look at her recorder first. As it turned out there was a new tape in the small battery operated boom box that she produced. Priscilla found a microphone, saying she had never tried to record anything with it. We tested the recorder, speaking into the microphone from various distances. Finding a hiding place for the recorder and a method of starting the tape was more difficult than I would have thought it would be. Under the bed was the most desirable place for it but how would we switch it on? Besides, the tape made a clicking sound on start-up that would be detectable unless Aaron was completely absorbed with desire.

The second bedroom closet backed up to the front room closet. By drilling a hole between the two closets we were able to run the power cord through the hole and plug it in an outlet next to the front room closet. All Pricilla had to do was remember to plug the cord in the wall outlet to start recording. As soon as I was satisfied that she knew what to do I left, not wanting to hear about the arrangements Priscilla had planned. Her assertion that I would be unable to influence Gina to back out of her assignment had deflated my ego. Had Pricilla brainwashed Gina into actually wanting to have sex with Aaron, even if I didn't approve?

Trisha was sitting in the front seat next to Greg when they picked me up. His car was a relatively new two-door Saab so she had to bend forward to let squeeze into the back. During the short time the dome light was on I saw that her hair was in one long single braid that extended halfway down her back. Seeing how she was dressed, in a long, brightly printed skirt, silk blouse with ruffled front and formal dark jacket, I wished I had taken more time telling Becky what to wear. They greeted me warmly. Trisha commented on my leather coat, saying it looked expensive. I told her she was right about the coat and directed Greg to Becky's house.

Becky lived next door to my friend, Sid Connor's house but I had never been inside her house. Trisha held the back of her seat for me to climb out of the car and I walked up to the front door, uncertain as to what I could expect. Becky's mother was congenial but cautious. She peered out at the car, looked me over and told me to make sure her daughter was home by midnight, all before telling Becky I was there.

A few awkward moments passed while I waited for Becky to make her appearance. The front room was larger than the one at my house but sparsely furnished. Young voices from another room cluttered the air, shrieking, laughter, quiet, followed by shrieking. Funny, I thought, never having thought about Becky having brothers and sisters. Her mother said Becky would be out soon and left the room.

"Is this okay?" Becky asked, smiling as she entered the room. I recognized the dark slacks from school but not the plaid flannel shirt, the long tails hanging loosely down her legs in the front and over her ass in the rear. Her fingernails and lips were painted brightly to match the plaid and her short dark hair, reminding me of a little pixy.

"Exactly as I pictured," I said, wondering what had possessed me to tell her to come as a tomboy. "You'll need a jacket," I added. She frowned, telling me she had not considered needing a jacket.

"We'll be in the car most of the time, won't we?" She asked, tentatively.

Deciding she didn't have a suitable jacket to wear I agreed that we would be in the car most of the time.

Trisha welcomed Becky as if they were best friends, commenting on how nice she looked and asking about her classes at school. We talked amiably until Greg drove into the circular drive, saying he would let us out in at the front door and then park the car. Becky's reaction when she saw the house was noticeable to me but I don't think Trisha heard air being expelled. I took Becky's hand to help her out of the car and felt her grip me tightly.

Trisha introduced us to Barry at the front door. He was charming, continuing to chat with us while we waited in the foyer for Greg to arrive. Barry offered to store my coat in the hall closet but I told him I preferred to keep it on, jokingly opening the front to display my turtleneck shirt. "Seeing my chest would cause a stampede among the ladies," I quipped, causing Trisha to cock her head to one side and say that she was going to measure me again...

"You'll find I've grown taller," I said.

"That's not what I'm going to measure," she said, coyly, making Barry watch me closely for a reaction.

"You'll find I've grown," I repeated myself.

"That's not what I'm going to measure either. It's your ego that's grown bigger," Trisha said, looking pleased with her comeback.

"You're not only too old for me. You're too tall and too smart." It was the only thing I could think of to say.

"How do you know her?" Becky asked as we followed Greg and Trisha into the next room where the party was in full swing. The room was crowded with kids from school, most of the seniors that I was not acquainted with.

"I don't know her, really. We played tennis once." I whispered.

Greg led us into another room where seating was arranged in clusters, suitable for small groups to conduct private meetings. He introduced Becky and me to three other couples before directing us to a far corner of the room where we took seats and Greg resumed the interview. It was as if only ten minutes had passed since we were in his father's study a week before. He started by telling Trisha and Becky that he needed to ask me a few questions and then we could talk about something else. I found it a little less comfortable talking with Trisha and Becky listening than I had the week before with Gina sitting on my lap. But I loosened up when our dates begin to talk among themselves. There was, however, one time when Becky paused and looked at me, questioningly when I happened to mention that I would be returning to Cromwell Military School the following year.

We danced; Greg and Trisha, Becky and I and then we changed partners.

"Are you and Gina over?" Trisha asked me when were out of earshot from Becky.

"No, she had something else to do tonight. I may see her later," I said, thinking of Gina for the first time since I left my house earlier. I wondered what Gina was doing at that moment. A picture of her flashed into my mind, Gina's legs spread wide with Aaron pounding her. Was she enjoying what he was doing to her? I tried to put the vision of Gina out of my mind but it kept returning.

It was Greg's idea that we go someplace and have a pizza. We said goodnight to Barry and drove to a pizza parlor that was popular among teenagers. I could tell that Becky was cold and wished I had been more forceful about her wearing a jacket, even if it was not a fashionable one.