Chapter 30: Let's Do Lunch...

At school, Wednesday started quietly. The composite group had shaken out; everyone knew where everyone else was coming from and had global acceptance -- including Teddy. Darla Jean's mother picked her up at ten for her gynecology appointment. At gym class, Toby chided Randall, "So, how's Peggy?"

"She's surprising -- but we agreed that I'm not her type," Randall replied, unaffected. "Maybe you ought to stop talking trash and find out yourself?"

"Huh! Like I can't do any better?" Toby responded scathingly.

"Jimmy! You keeping Toby's black book?"

"Yeah!" Jimmy grinned, from the mats. He'd seen this one before...

"Any pages in it?" Randall pressed.

"Nope..."

Everybody laughed and Toby went red. Randall turned to him and said, "YOU'RE the one who said it was better than some, and that missed pussy is irreplaceable. Of course, you'd have to be nice to her..." He eyed Toby sidelong.

"Yeah, right. Heads up!" A runaway basketball flew past.

Tenisha cornered Mary and Nora at lunch, "All right -- you gonna tell me?"

"Here?" Mary glanced around.

"On the patio, then?"

"Okay." The girls shifted outside, plopping at a picnic table that had seen better days. Tenisha flashed 'the look' and Mary got started, "Okay. Actually, YOU had something to do with it, too..."

"Me?"

"All will become clear... Nora and I arrived at the Prom with Teddy, which was convenient for everyone, since Teddy was scared I'd put a leash on him. But Teddy discovered a glory hole in the Men's Room, and staked it out. Pretty soon, along comes Stick, mildly lit, and apparently he finds the other side. So Teddy blew him, and then got out of there -- I guess Stick made some comment about dressing him in a skirt and keeping him for a girlfriend, even though they still hadn't really seen each other; you know how Stick can talk..."

"Ooookay..." Tenisha gestured for Mary to keep it coming.

"Teddy came back to me, for protective coloration, but was hinting that we ought to leave when Stick ambled out of the Men's Room and starts quizzing me about recent exits. When I pointed out that Stick had cum on his shoe, both of them freaked, and I put two and two together and got six. About that time, you monopolized Draper, taking Stick's ride away from him, and Nora collected Nate -- which left me alone with Teddy. So I blackmailed Teddy into giving Stick a ride, threatening to out him to Stick and reminding him that he REALLY didn't want to be alone with me..."

Mary grinned ferally, and continued, "Once I got them home to my man trap, Teddy started sprouting serious chicken feathers, so I stuck a beer in his hand and he scooted off to the bathroom."

"Man trap?"

"I have a whole mother-in-law apartment over the garage for my bedroom. Big, private, and my folks USED to look the other way if I dragged some poor boy up there."

"She keeps beer and porn flicks," Nora interjected, "just the thing..."

"Wow!" Tenisha was impressed.

"Well, I don't get much male attention that I don't work for directly..." Mary waved disparagingly at herself. "Anyway, I told Stick that I knew too much, but if he really wanted to know who the masked blowjob artist was, I could tell him -- for a price. Stick agreed, so I outed Teddy -- but I made it clear that if Stick abused him, I'd hang HIM out to dry, too! Then I threw a bi-sex flick into the video player and we dragged Teddy out of the bathroom."

"So what was the price?"

"I told 'em they could do whatever came to mind in privacy at my place -- but they had to have sex with me, too," Mary replied. "I figured one of them would eventually roll over, and I'd get a boyfriend out of the deal; one night stands hadn't netted me anything, so I was hoping that I was an acquired taste..."

"How did that go over?" Tenisha asked.

"Well, Teddy was lit on one beer, and the video player was showing a bunch of stuff he was interested in doing. It turned out that neither of them had actually had pussy, which helped; Stick was all in favor, and Teddy was interested, even though he'd almost convinced himself he was gay. THAT was the REAL issue; the guys AREN'T gay, but they're both horny little motherfuckers, and they weren't getting pussy, so why not settle for something else? That pretty much describes Stick's attitude at the time; Teddy's was a little more complicated, since -- well, YOU know Teddy -- is a Mama's boy like that gonna get a break?"

"So what happened?"

Mary shrugged. "Without giving you a blow-by-blow, everybody got a little piece of everybody else and we had a helluva good time! After that, we kind of figured that after a couple more outings, I'd pick one of them -- or vice-versa -- and the odd man -- or woman -- out would go looking elsewhere. I've dated both of them solo, and we've all been together a couple of times since then, but the expected thing hasn't happened. Instead, we're kind of stable the way we are..."

"So, Stick fucks Teddy, and Stick fucks you, and Teddy fucks you... Does Teddy... ?"

"No -- for a couple of reasons. First Teddy isn't psychologically set up to be on top, if you know what I mean. And second, Teddy has a really interesting cock..."

"Huh?"

Mary grinned. "Well it probably isn't any longer than you'd expect -- but it's almost all head and it's like, this big around..." Mary displayed its considerable girth by pretending to wrap both hands around it. "No way Stick is gonna hold still for THAT! I can take it, properly lubed -- Stick generally lubes me by going first -- and MAYBE one day I'll try it in the poop chute, but Stick? No way. He wouldn't be into it mentally, anyway."

"What about head?"

"What about it? You know Teddy blows Stick..." Tenisha just looked at her, waiting Mary out. "Look, does it matter?"

"You're protecting him."

"You're damned right! I think I'm in love with the skinny bastard!" Mary rocked back and sat there, shocked at herself. "Look, if either of them could do without the gay sex thing, it's Stick. He could walk away, no problem. But he hasn't, largely because I think he's a little fond of Teddy. Okay, yeah, he's done it, but only after I razzed him about how he wasn't giving Teddy anything and that wasn't a proper relationship. So I'm at fault for that..."

"Okay. Didn't mean to put you on the spot."

"Yeah, you did." Mary eyed Tenisha dubiously. "But either I can trust you, or I can't. I don't know what Draper will say..."

Tenisha giggled. "Draper told me last night that he wasn't surprised at all. I guess the subject had come up before, and Stick had told Nate what he wanted to hear, instead of raising Hell 'bout how awful it was..."

Nora nodded. "Nate had an absolute fit! It took a lot of effort to get his head turned around..."

Mary nodded. "Nate's reaction threw Stick for a loop; he figured Draper would be just as bad..." The bell rang. "Oh, shit! I have to hit my locker!"

"Okay, later!" Tenisha waved, Nora waved back, and the three of them headed in what were essentially three different directions, each in a hurry.

Across town, at Andrea's Restaurant, another lunch meeting was getting under way. Rodday arrived punctually, with two lieutenants, to find Armand Wilson already seated. Armand nodded at another table as he rose to greet Rodday; Rodday dispatched them to it with his eyes, wondering how many of the adjacent diners were Armand's people. Frankly, he'd have found the number scary -- it was two to one inside, with a support team in the parking lot that had Rodday's people outgunned, there, too. Flood would have arranged for more coverage, but Flood was missing... "Mr. Wilson. How nice to meet you."

"Mr. Pinkham."

"What can I do for you?" Rodday attempted to get right to the point.

Armand, unperturbed, rolled over it. "Why don't we order first? The clams casino is excellent..." Armand kept the conversation off-topic effortlessly throughout the ordering process and into the appetizers, before reining things in, "So how is business?"

"Good -- picking up, actually..."

"I suppose the video is bringing you tons of new employees?" Armand's grin was malicious.

"Uh, yeah. A piece of luck, that was, having that fall into my hands..." Rodday replied, but 'Oh, SHIT!' was the thought burning in his brain.

"Funny that the perpetrator picked Tabitha Adams," Armand observed. "How do you suppose that happened?"

'He's toying with me... ' "Yeah. Odd, that."

"Tabitha tells me that you had a conversation with her only days before about her lack of protection..."

'Aw, FUCK!' "Indeed. Well, I was making the rounds, generally -- can't say I actually remember."

"I blame myself for not being more visible -- but she needed so little... I'm REALLY PLEASED that she wasn't killed; when my people catch the person who ordered this, he or she may even survive..."

"Well, obviously, this guy was some kind of lone crazy..." Rodday was visibly sweating.

"The man enjoys his work, but the video made it clear that he was a pro, operating under instructions. No, while it might be fun to drag him in, the responsibility lies elsewhere. I was hoping you might tell me where YOU got the video? Obviously, whoever gave it to you expected you to profit from it, so I can understand that you might be reluctant, but..." Armand's eyes told Rodday all he needed to know; this was smoke. Armand KNEW.

Rodday could take the coward's way out and lie, or he could face the music -- he decided to do the latter: "I ordered it."

"Did you investigate her claims at all? It wouldn't have taken much in the way of digging to discover a relationship between us..."

"Would YOU? I told one of my people to have a look, but nobody expected anything..." Rodday shook his head.

"I'm sure you'll have a talk with that particular employee on your return to your offices..."

"Yeah." 'IF he ever shows up... ' Rodday added to himself.

At the club, Scott was grinning from ear to ear as he and Davis laid out Flood in Rodday's office next to his companions. They'd wake up in a couple of hours, but they'd remember this little incident for a LOOOONG time, thanks to Jason's suggestions involving their delivery. The fact that Flood carried keys to the club made things that much easier...

Back at the restaurant, Armand continued, "You know, you'll catch more whores with honey than you will wielding a big stick. If you were doing for them what you CLAIM to be doing for them, you'd have more voluntary employees. As it is, I can't stand behind the idea of your monopolizing prostitution in this town."

"Whores aren't as profitable as drugs; there are liabilities."

"True. And trash collection isn't as profitable as diamond mining, either," Armand observed, "but you can still turn a tidy profit. Prostitution is sales, and you're cutting your own people's profit margins and incentives by being grabby. Hookers have overhead, too; they have to eat, they have to buy wardrobe, they need medical support for their STDs..." Armand leaned back as the server arrived with his and Rodday's lunches. "It'd help if you were really protecting them, too. Volume ought to allow you to keep the vice squad in pocket money..."

Rodday shook his head, "The way they're chasing me over drugs?"

Armand shrugged. "You decided to carry that product line... Why bother with hookers?"

"Ego, I guess." Rodday was almost relaxed.

"Well, your lack of vigilance probably extends to other things. I wouldn't expect to remain a free man indefinitely." Armand leaned forward, toying with a clam with his fork. "Still, I have to tell you that I admire the finesse... The Tabitha thing was very well executed."

"Thank you." Rodday was still smarting from Armand's observations regarding his operation's efficiency, but he needed to pander to the man's goodwill, apparently.

"Drugs are also a problem because they promote the existence of an extremely violent distribution system. And, frankly, addicting your whores adds to the turnover; better if they're clean -- they have longer shelf-life and are more profitable if they aren't wasted husks," Armand observed.

"Yeah, well, you get the same thing from gambling and loan sharking," Rodday replied, "and I need a hold on my girls."

"Loyalty in your employees would be a big improvement over fear and chemical dependence," Armand returned blithely. "As it is, you're diverting part of your other product line to this support -- and you have to subsidize it because you've already robbed your staff of the ability to pay full price. I understand the company store concept, but the whole thing is inefficient. The girls have no incentive to work, doped up and too broke to make ends meet. You suffer from absenteeism, employee turnover is unacceptable, and the occasional untimely death..." Armand shook his head. "I know a fellow a couple of towns over who manages to handle the 'company store' angle solely from a rent money perspective. AND he owns real estate, AND he owns all of the strip clubs, AND he lures in new staff regularly to supplement a thoroughly loyal core..." Armand grinned. "And he owns the police department, lock, stock, and barrel, too..."

"Interesting..."

"Of course, he eschews the drug trade, because that draws Federal scrutiny..." Armand leaned forward. "You need to clean up your act. In the meantime, you will leave Tabitha Adams strictly ALONE -- or I will see to it that the consequences fall upon YOU directly. If, at some point in the future, the situation changes to the point that there is a benefit to her in being associated with your organization, we can revisit this conversation -- but I don't see that as a high-probability option."

Armand leaned back and put down his fork. "In the meantime, I now have to subsidize her protection -- which may translate into the creation of more serious competition for your business, as she can't possibly repay me on her own. I haven't decided exactly how to handle that, yet. Last, but not least," Armand glared, "the current incident is not over. I have been ignored and treated with contempt. While I now believe it was accidental, that very fact reveals a dangerous weakness in your organization that I reserve the right to remind you of at some point in the future." He glanced at his watch. "I believe we're done, here. Enjoy your meal." He got up and stalked out, flanked by a couple of people that apparently appeared out of the woodwork.

"Shit." Rodday grunted. "Now what the fuck..."

"You okay, Boss?" Junior came over from the table he'd been pigeonholed into.

"Yeah, for now," Rodday sighed, "Any word on Flood?"

"Nope."

"Boy has serious explaining to do." Rodday discovered that he had no appetite. "Let's go." He waved for the waiter. "Check, please."

"Mr. Wilson has paid," was the reply.

"Well, at least he's got class." Rodday led his people out -- and two more of Armand's people followed at a discreet distance.

"What the fuck?" Flood heard the voice and wondered vaguely what it was talking about. Slowly he swam up to consciousness -- why did his ass feel so... stuffed?

"Flood, you wanna tell me what the fuck you're doing layin' buck naked on my floor with a -- what is that? -- CUCUMBER up your ass?" Rodday asked, dumbfounded.

Flood looked around groggily. On either side of him, Jaime and Stretch were similarly undressed -- and similarly stuffed! "Ah, Jeezus this hurts! Fuck!"

"Well, get it out..."

"I... don't think I can!"

"Well, I ain't doin' it!" Rodday laughed, "You three go to work on each other!" There ensued about a minute and a half of strained grunts -- and at least one scream -- before the three victims managed to extract their vegetable butt plugs. "Awright, now, where the fuck have you been?"

"We staked out Tabitha's place, lookin' fer her boy, like you told us to," Flood replied. "What the fuck day is this?"

"Wednesday."

"Awright, so it was last night, then. So the kid, Nate, shows up wit' some white bitch, an' we corner him in the apartment -- but THEN musta been half-dozen motherfuckers unloaded on us... I woke up some fuckin' where, tied to a goddamn chair. They alternated bustin' me in the chops and pokin' me with a fuckin' needle..."

Rodday grew grave. "Shit! Well, do YOU know who did this?"

"No..."

"Well, I do! Armand Wilson! Turns out the Adams bitch DID have a protector! Now MY shit is in the wind 'cause YOU didn't check her ass out properly! I just had a pretty fuckin' unpleasant lunch with him, listenin' to him tell me how I SHOULD be runnin' whores!"

"Wilson? Fuck..."

"Yeah, Wilson. The good news is we didn't ice the bitch -- Wilson apparently kinda admires the job the guy did -- otherwise, I don't know what the fuck he woulda done..." Rodday shook his head. "He's still rumblin' -- and I DON'T know WHY! What the FUCK could HE have in common with Tabitha Adams?"

"I sure as shit don't fuckin' know..."

"Busy?" Matheson stuck his head in the door of Tabitha's hospital room.

"I'm fuckin' bored to fuckin' tears!" Tabitha whined. "Lemme guess -- you found that crazy muthafuckah!"

"Uhhh, no. Sorry! The guy is a pro -- he's not going to be run down any too quickly. What we DID do was confirm that Rodday called him in. Rodday sent three of his boys around to collect Nate -- but, well, there were six of us..." Matheson whipped out a photograph.

There it was, in living color: Three of Rodday's boys, buck naked, with... "What the fuck did yo' put in they ass?"

"Cucumbers."

"Oh, holy fuckin' shit!" Tabitha cracked up. "Jeeezus! Ha ha ha ha..." She wrapped her arms around her chest, "Aw, shit, that hurts -- but it's SOOO fuckin' funny!"

"We laid 'em out like that in Rodday's office about an hour ago -- while Mr. Wilson was busy giving Rodday a good talking to," Matheson laughed. "I don't think he's done, either. If you feel like riding Rodday's ass with a strap-on, all you probably have to do is ask..."

"Shit, what a picture! But that'd just piss Rodday off an' he'd try ta kill me..."

"Well..." Matheson shook his head. "I'm pretty sure that Mr. Wilson has convinced Rodday that messing with you is bad for his health."

"Huh! I'll believe THAT when I see it! Some folk too dumb to live..." Tabitha shook her head. "You tell Mr. Wilson that this'll do it. I gotta live wit' the fuck."

"Trust me, Mr. Wilson will make his point. You're gonna remain an independent contractor. Oh, by the way, you might have to move -- Nate beat the shit out of your landlord for giving Rodday's boy access to your apartment..."

"Shit! I done missed THAT, too? Fuck me..." She chuckled, then eyed Matheson sidelong, "Speakin' o' fuckin' -- I wasn't shittin' you; yo' gotta unlimited account at Tabitha's..."

Matheson laughed. "Don't tempt me. Besides, I'm just one of about six or eight guys in on this..."

"Yo' point 'em out, Honey, an' I'll give 'em a dip -- but yo' kinda cute..." Tabitha batted her eyes.

"I'm only human," Matheson chuckled. "You make offers like that, I might be tempted to collect..."

"Y'all do that..."

"So how are you feeling, really?"

"Tits still hurt. Ass is better. Pussy is, too. Hospital food is godawful, but at least I don' hafta cook it. Fuckin' painkillers are keepin' me fum missin' the shit too much..."

"Shit's bad for you."

"People been tellin' me that for fuckin' evah, an' I'm still here..." Tabitha grunted.

"You'd look better and feel better if you'd listen to 'em."

"Look," she murmured, holding his eyes, "I got what they call an 'addictive personality'. I like ta feel good ever once in a while. Generally, I got good sense about it. But I cain't give it up."

Matheson merely smiled. The 'painkillers' had other functions, too; Tabitha wasn't hurting that badly for a reason. Well, time would tell... "Can I get you anything?"

"You done pretty good, Honey. I'm fine, fo' now. Don' hang it out for Rodday to chop off, now..."

"I'll save it for you." Matheson grinned and walked out, leaving Tabitha chuckling over the picture.

"Miz Sharon?"

"Mmmm?" Sharon roused to the diffident voice. "Yes?"

"You wanted to be awakened before now, actually..." Leticia began, "but Charles called Mr. Wilson and he told me to push things off a bit."

"Oh." Damn Armand -- always messing in things... Sharon was butt to butt with Felicia in the bed -- and in contact. Well, it hadn't hurt anything... "Felicia! Get up, Honey, and start me a bath..."

"Mmmm?" The redhead rose up, rubbed her nose with the back of her hand, a move unconsciously childish. " 'Kay." She got up and wobbled toward the bath.

Sharon glanced up, "Thanks, Leticia. Anything going on I should know about?"

"No, Ma'am. Things are on track."

"Fine. Oh, is this Velma's shopping day?"

"Ummm. Might be. Wednesday? Yeah."

"Have her stop by before she leaves, will you?"

"Certainly, Ma'am." Leticia turned to leave, but wasn't too far gone to hear the next exchange.

"Mistress? Want bubbles?"

"Something. I smell like -- well YOU know what I smell like!" An answering cackle came from the bath.

"Robbie? Could I speak to you for a moment?" Millicent Graham's voice drifted in from the room that she styled 'the parlor'.

"Yes, Mother?" Rob rolled his eyes and turned into the room. He didn't really have time for this; he'd come home over lunch to pick up his forgotten Civics homework.

"I received a most distressing telephone call today from Claudette," Millicent murmured before glancing back down at her knitting. "Yes, most distressing."

Mother's gift for melodrama was legendary; she styled herself a southern belle -- and she was deep into it, at this point... "Really?" Rob replied.

"She tells me that you've stopped seeing her and taken up with some slut..."

"Oh?" Rob returned blithely. "That's interesting. Until last week, the girl she described to you as a slut was one of her inner circle..."

"When did this all happen?" Millicent asked.

"It happened at the Prom, Mother."

"You all made such a fine-looking couple..."

"That was the problem, Mother. It was all looks."

"Oh?" Millicent looked up. "I don't understand. I figured that you two would be a couple right through college..."

"Mother, Claudette wasn't going to stay with me through college. The only reason Claudette wanted to be around me was because I'm popular. Here, I'm a big fish in a small pond; in college, though, I won't be the top dog. Claudette would have hit the road as soon as she found a higher-class ticket on the gravy train."

"Oh, come on, now, Son. She was all over you!"

"Only in public, Mother. In private, she wasn't interested."

"You're your father's son; surely, you could woo her..." Mother eyed him sidelong, her eyes revealing that she KNEW he kept those tools honed.

Robbie sighed. The fact was, Mother resembled Claudette all too closely. How Dad had managed to get Mother pregnant with him was a mystery. Certainly, they hadn't had sex in a decade... "Nope. All Claudette wanted was for us to look like the perfect couple. She had no interest in a REAL relationship..."

"Real?" Millicent taunted. "Like those other girls you've been seeing? That kind of real?"

Rob sighed. "In its own way, that stuff wasn't any more substantive."

"Hmmph. Let your father know, will you?" Millicent sighed. Donald Graham had a steady flow of women in and out of his bedroom, and it was a source of continuous embarrassment to her. On the other hand, they kept her from having to sully herself... "Besides, you miss the point, Robbie. Is this new girl just another slut?"

Rob rolled his eyes. "No, Mother -- she's just unwelcome competition for Claudette, who I'd already split with, by the way, when we got together. I'm sure that once you see her, you'll approve of her."

"Whom, Dear." Millicent continued to hold her son's eyes. "Must I drag it out of you? Are you or are you not sleeping with this girl?"

"Mother! Please!"

"You are, then."

"That doesn't make Claudette right! Most of the girls I've... been with... have been willing to provide sex up front to be Rob Graham's girlfriend -- which, frankly, is more than Claudette ever did. Her basic idea was that I benefited just from being seen with her -- like THAT was huge, or something..." Rob shook his head, angrily. "Mary and I moved relatively slowly to this point, having been together a lot. I like being with her, with or without sex. And if Claudette weren't making noises about it, the fact that we're dating wouldn't even be public knowledge!"

"So then you're ashamed of her?" Millicent probed.

"Not at all!" Rob countered. "We're just not in it for the publicity, like a pair of movie stars just before their latest movie gets released. Mary is a very popular girl, in her own right -- but we're focused on US, not other people. I've seen the results of THAT!"

"ROBBIE!" Millicent shrieked, stung. "I won't tolerate such accusations! I'm your mother!"

Rob sneered. "Then be careful what you say about my girlfriend! At least she wants ALL of me, not just my face, or my money!" He stalked out, fuming. Mother probably got pregnant with him just to consolidate her hold on Dad, now that he thought about it; the realization had been hanging there, at the edge of his consciousness, forever, but this surfaced it -- and all of the little digs about following in Dad's sexual footsteps made sense... Well, he knew what he wanted, now. If things didn't work out with Mary, at least he was pointed in the right direction. But things WERE working out, for now -- and he was determined that time-wasting showoffs like Claudette and his mother would not interfere...

Darla Jean got back to school right after lunch; she could have stayed home, but making Dwayne fumble basketballs was fun. Besides, there was something empowering about having a pack of birth control pills in one's purse, even if they hadn't really taken effect yet... In the hallway outside his sixth period class, Darla Jean decided to see if she could make Dwayne drop books, too. Checking to see that her new pink midriff top was doing its job, she sidled up behind Dwayne, "Hi, Dwayne."

Almost. He jumped, visibly, and fumbled a bit. "Hi, Darla Jean. What's up?" His eyes took in the top, and what it exposed. There was a bra there, and nothing really huge underneath, but it was more visible than usual, by a good bit. And there was that strip of bare flesh below...

"Oh, nothing. Just thought I'd say hi..." She wasn't REALLY very good at this... What kind of come-on SHOULD she have used?

It was good enough, though. "Say, do you think we could maybe get together some time?" Dwayne blurted.

"Oh, I don't know. You're awful busy, what with basketball and all..."

"Maybe after practice? You've been coming, after all..."

"We'll see. I have to check on my homework. I'll know by then."

"Okay..." Wow! That'd been pretty easy. Maybe Ted was right -- maybe Darla Jean was just ready...

"So, Peggy. Randall?" Louise Bryant asked the question, but there were eight other girls in earshot.

Peggy raised her hands. "Yes. And no."

"No?"

Peggy shook her head. "He's... too much. Here," she pointed to her temple, "and, weirdly, here..." She rubbed the crotch of her gym outfit. "I'm gonna be bowlegged for a week. It's great, but..." She shook her head; stunned chuckles erupted here and there. Most of the other girls just couldn't believe it...

Darla Jean hung back, soaking it in. It looked like a quiet conversation with Peggy was in the cards... It took a few minutes, but she managed to get Peggy basically alone, "So what happened?"

"Ummm, the short version is he didn't fit. I guess maybe I'd have stretched, but he's also got a lot of stamina... It was just too much."

"That's pretty wild," Darla Jean mused. "So, how would you classify him, in general?"

"He's great! I still want him to tutor me, and I want to be friends -- but I think we'll leave sex out of it."

"What did he think of that? I can't see a boy just..."

"No, he was okay with it." Peggy blushed, "I guess I wasn't the best ride he'd ever had..." She shook her head. "If he goes without for a while, I imagine he might come back for a rematch -- I would if I was him. Depending on how things are going, I might offer him something -- but long term, we don't have a future. In the meantime, maybe I'll get a little word of mouth advertising from the deal..." Gazing at Darla Jean, she added, "He's a seriously undervalued property -- but then you know that, don't you?" Darla Jean said nothing, merely shrugging; that's what she was trying to figure out...

Basketball practice found her in the bleachers, doing homework. Dwayne, having been seriously badgered by Coach Ellis for having his head up his ass, was working hard at not being distracted by her presence -- a process aided a bit by the fact that he now KNEW she was there for him and they had more to go on than just staring at one another. Ted tried to haze him anyway, "Hey, your girlfriend is in the bleachers!"