Chapter 24: Matching Tie and Panties

From one to five in the afternoon, according to Joey's calculations, should only have taken four hours. Yet when waiting for school to end so he could go out on a date with a beautiful girl, it felt like weeks.

He spent most of his time in Math class figuring out exactly how much time was left, recalculating down to the minute every couple of minutes. Three hours times sixty minutes is one hundred eighty minutes, plus forty eight minutes is two hundred twenty eight minutes. The class stretched on and on, and as the teacher droned on and on about Algebra and graphing and equations, he could only think about her: her face, her body, her hair, her smile. Lynne haunted him. She consumed all of his thoughts. He drew simple sketches of her face in his notebook, and at one point in the class when the teacher asked him a question, Joey just blanked. He had no idea what the answer was, or even what the question was.

"Sorry. I was thinking about something else," he confessed.

"And what exactly were you thinking about, Mister Harper?" Mrs. Crawford asked.

There were a couple of snickers in the room. Most of the students knew precisely what he was thinking about. "Can you repeat the question?"

As Mrs. Crawford repeated her question, Joey glanced at Simon for help. Simon apparently took pity on him, nodded, squinted, and Joey saw his own calculator display change. His good buddy Simon had pushed the answer onto his calculator. Unfortunately it was the answer to the wrong question. Instead of an equation or a number, it simply said the word "BOOBIES."

There was a study period where he did as much homework as possible, which turned out to be very little as he spent most of his time sketching her in his notebook again. He was a little disappointed, as he normally got to see Lynne during study period, but apparently she was taking the rest of the day off, officially to take care of her brother but most likely to get ready for their date. He wondered if she really did need four hours to get ready, but he had certainly seen Tricia and Annie spend nearly that long getting ready for something. It baffled him. There was an insane amount of washing, cutting, trimming, filing, plucking, shaving, buffing, waxing, curling, brushing, spritzing, spraying, lathering, moisturizing, exfoliating, defoliating, polishing, painting, glossing, blushing, highlighting, ironing, hunting, searching, dressing, undressing, experimenting, tightening, loosening, struggling, shaping, accessorizing, and God help them, even a little crying that women went through getting ready for something. It didn't just baffle him; it terrified him. All Joey was certain about was clean underwear, deodorant, brushing his teeth, wearing a tie, and most importantly, COMPLIMENTING HER when she comes out!

He called Tricia, and told her about the change in their plans, and since it was just the two of them now she offered to drive them. "Only if you promise to not pull that Alpha-Female thing again," he warned her. She agreed.

Then it was time for Social Studies, which crawled by like a depressed glacier.

And then that was it. School was over. Three in the afternoon, and he had two hours to kill. He could go home and wander the apartment and come right back, or he could stay here. He hunkered down in the library, did some more homework, drew some more sketches, and tried his best to just keep his clothes from wrinkling.

Simon hung out with him for a while. He was very concerned about Sarah, who had retreated to her room for the rest of the day, and Joey tried to explain to him about her mantra and how it worked for her. They talked, and watched some stupid YouTube videos on the school computers, and then as five o'clock rolled about and Joey was taking his leave to meet Lynne, Simon stopped him.

"Look, Joey. I know this isn't any of my business, but I was wondering if you could do something for me."

Joey frowned. "What?"

Simon took a deep breath. "Could you find out what that electronic thing is in Lynne's purse? It's driving me nuts."

"Goodbye, Simon. I'll see you later."

At 5:05 in the afternoon, Joey was pacing in front of the school, wearing a jacket that Tricia had brought for him, and he was just at the point when he was starting to convince himself that Lynne was just running late, and that everything was fine, and that there was nothing to worry about, and she was just doing some last minute primping or got caught in a conversation or got a phone call or couldn't find her keys or something simple like that. There was an easy explanation, and she would soon be out and they would be on their way.

Any moment now.

"Relax, sweetheart," Tricia said.

"I'm not worried."

"Hmm-mmm."

"She's just running a little late, that's all."

"Happens all the time," Tricia offered.

"It doesn't mean anything."

"Hmm-mmm." Tricia leaned against her car and watched him pace. "You know, I've never actually watched a man wait for a date before. I've MADE a few wait for me, but never saw what you all go through. What a lot of wasted energy."

"I'm fine."

"No wonder you all look so exhausted when I show up. All that pacing and worrying, it must be draining."

"I'm not worried."

"Seriously. You should relax. If this were for me, I would much prefer that you save that energy for me."

"Well, this is not for you."

"Save it for her then."

Joey stopped and forced himself to relax, breathing in deeply and exhaling slowly. He glanced at his foster mother. Instead of her skimpy tank-top which was what she wore when she picked up him and Sarah on Monday, she was now wearing her jeans jacket over a simple black T-shirt that read "goat milk?" in large white letters stretched across her impressive breasts. The look was still pretty sexy, but at least this time she wasn't showing any cleavage. "Thanks for toning yourself down," he said.

She shrugged. "Well, I learned my lesson. It's your first date, and she wants to feel special. I could tell Sarah was a little intimidated by me. Lynne's what? Fourteen?"

"Fifteen."

She shrugged again. "Still a girl. She doesn't have much to work with." She popped one hip. "So I'll ease up and not give her so much competition. Try not to be too much of a distraction."

"You're so kind," Joey said sarcastically.

She smirked at him. "But I hope you appreciate the amount of effort it takes for me to reign in this much bodaciousness. It's not easy."

Joey chuckled. "That's what I like about you. You're so humble."

"Yes. It just comes with the massive bosoms. I just want to nurse the whole world," she said, rocking her body.

"You're slithering again. Can't you just stand up straight?"

"Slithering" was the term they had come up for the way Tricia tended to stand in one spot and yet keep moving like a snake, popping one hip, twisting her torso, and inflating her chest, constantly shifting her body to accentuate her curves and give people ample opportunity to check out her ampleness from every angle. She sighed and dropped her hips, straightened her back, and assumed a prim and proper stance, or at least as prim and proper as she was capable of accomplishing. She gave him a polite smile. "Better?"

"Much better. Thanks."

She reached for him and lovingly straightened his tie. "So I don't know what I'm going to do with myself tonight. What with you out having fun without me."

"Please don't tell me you plan on following us."

She shook her head. "Wouldn't dream of it. But you know, I may check out that costume shop. I've always wanted one of those sexy French Maid outfits. Not that I plan to do any cleaning, but if we ever do another video..."

And then she just stopped. Tricia stopped in mid-sentence, her mouth hanging open wide in shock, and her eyes locked on something behind him. Joey turned and gasped.

It was Lynne. "Holy..." he started.

Lynne was standing on the front steps outside the school, with a considerable number of kids watching her, all following her in rapt attention as she stepped out the door and down the steps. And she was breathtaking.

On a bad day, Lynne was gorgeous, but today, she was simply ravishing, and Joey just stood there and gazed at her in a dumbfounded silence, looking up and down and up and down and up her body, devouring her with his eyes. She had curled and styled her long chocolate brown hair into sexy waves which billowed out and down over her bare shoulders. Her dress was pure and simple white with a loose skirt that ended at her knees, showing off her shapely calves. White shoes matched her dress and handbag, but none of those attracted his eyes as much as what her dress did to her body. The dress was tight, and it squeezed her torso and lifted and held and displayed and presented and framed a cleavage so epic, so monumental, it probably defied local ordinances. Lynne's generous breasts jiggled and sloshed and rippled and bounced with each step, threatening to either burst free or just rip the dress to shreds.

"Hi!" she said happily.

"Wow. I ya..." Joey managed, but that was really as far as he could get.

She stepped up to him and spun about, twirling on one foot and letting her skirt blossom around her legs. "So! What do you think?"

Joey tried again. "I ... God, wow, I love your..." He swallowed and stuttered, gazing at her body, his eyes taking in all the creamy bare skin of her chest and arms and face and neck. "Yes, I um ... I..." Externally he was incapable of expressing a coherent thought, but internally it was all "God, I love what you've done with your breasts!"

"Aw, I got you all tongue-tied! Well, I'll just take that as a compliment for now. LOVE the jacket!" she growled. Then she turned to Tricia with a grin. "You must be Tricia. Hi, I'm Lynne Sullivan. Pleased to meet you!"

Tricia, who had also been eyeing Lynne's curvy body with astonishment, narrowed her eyes on the girl and unconsciously popped her hip. "Good to meet you too," she said, not terribly honestly.

"I read your article in Time magazine!" Lynne said. "The one you wrote. It was amazing, and absolutely gripping. Wow, I wish I could write like you."

Tricia blinked and stared at her, and if Joey had been able to tear his eyes off his new girlfriend and point them back to his foster mother, he would have seen and been able to interpret her expression as something along the lines of "Oh no! Don't you go complimenting my brain when showing off that much body! No, you don't win that way." But he didn't see her face, and she didn't say that. Instead, she simply smiled and said "Thank you."

"Oh no! Thank YOU!" Lynne gushed. "For everything." She took Joey's hand and squeezed it in hers. "You rescued my Joey. You saved his life. That means a lot to me."

Joey was so startled by her phrase "my Joey" that he was actually able to pull his eyes off her huge breasts and look at her face. Tricia also was startled, and raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Oh," Tricia oozed. "It was MY pleasure."

By this point, Joey had finally started to notice the tension building, if not between Lynne and Tricia, then at least on Tricia's side. The way Tricia stressed the word "my" said something very specific; Joey belonged to her, and Lynne was to learn her place. But Lynne didn't seem to take that meaning, and Joey thought it best to change the subject before she made that connection.

"Um, so like, maybe we should get going..." he started.

Lynne bounced and gasped at him, the motion sending ripples through her chest. "Oh! The tongue is working again! Yay! How do I look?"

"Um, you look amazing! Gorgeous! Wow!"

She gleefully swayed on her hips. "Aw! Thank you! Sorry for being so late. Didn't quite expect how long it would take to walk through the halls while wearing something like this." She gestured to the number of students watching them from the front steps. "I kind of drew a crowd."

"Yeah, I can see that happening," Joey said, glancing at the students. They were all grinning and smiling at him.

Tricia leaned on her other hip. "So! Shall we?"

Lynne startled. "Hmm?" she asked, confused. "Shall we what?"

"Um, since it's just the two of us going," Joey explained, "Tricia's offered to drive us."

Lynne squinted on that. "Really?" Not enthusiastic.

"Yeah. Is that okay?"

"Umm..." Lynne paused. First she glanced at Tricia, and then at Joey. "Well..." Then she cocked her head at Tricia. "That's very nice of you. Thank you." She ran her tongue through her cheek and turned back to Joey. "But umm..." Then she turned back to Tricia. "Can you excuse us for one moment?"

She spun and pulled Joey's hand, turning him to face away from Tricia. Then she leaned in and whispered to him. "Joey?"

"Yeah?"

She sucked in a large lungful of air through her teeth. "Look, I like her and all, but is there any way we can like ... Itch-Day the Aperone-Shay?"

Joey paused. "Well, I guess we could, but she offered."

Lynne nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I don't want to hurt her feelings too." Then she casually reached up and fingered Joey's blue tie, running her fingers across the long shaft of fabric. "Say, remember when I told you I would wear something to match this tie?"

He hesitated. "Yeah?"

Her voice was barely a growl. "You haven't seen it yet."

Joey considered that, carefully, and took a moment to do both a mental and visual inventory of everything she was wearing. White dress, silver earrings, silver bracelet, white shoes ... a definitely white heroic bra doing what was undoubtedly a stupendous job. He scanned her body, and his eyes settled on her wide and curvy hips.

"Oh," he said.

"Eee-yep!" she drawled, and shifted on her hips.

"For me?"

"Hmm-mmm."

Joey nodded, thinking.

"A little hard to get to with your mom on the date, don't you think?" she added.

"Yeah," he agreed.

They turned back to Tricia, and with Lynne grinning, Joey just shrugged at his foster mother. "Actually, we discussed it, and we're just going to walk and take Metro, if that's okay. But thanks for the offer."

Tricia dropped her jaw and raised an eyebrow. It looked like she was going to say something, but then she did an odd movement that Joey couldn't quite figure out. It was as if she was going to take a step towards them, but instead slunk back and leaned against the car. She blinked in surrender.

"Nice to meet you!" Lynne said cheerfully, and then she gasped in shock. "Oh wait!" Then she skipped up to Tricia and in one swift move, reached deep down into her own cleavage and extracted a business card. "Can you get this to your publicist? Thanks!" Then she turned confidently, whipping her long hair about, and strutted back to Joey. She took him by the hand, and after a couple goodbyes, the two teens walked hand-in-hand down the street towards the Metro station.

Tricia stood silently, leaning against the car, baffled by her own reaction. She didn't know what happened. She just stood there in silence, holding a business card and watching that girl's fine ass swishing as she walked off in triumph with her man. Now she wanted to keep him in sight, wanted to protect him, but she wasn't sure why she backed off. Maybe she realized that he needed this to expand his horizons. Or maybe this stunningly gorgeous girl wasn't nearly as much of a threat to her as she thought she was. Joey wasn't leaving her. He was just experimenting.

"Yeah. That must be it," she told herself.

Lynne was all smiles and giggles, and she practically skipped next to him as they walked hand-in-hand down the street towards the Metro station. She skipped and bounced, making motions that did things to her body that were damned entertaining. Joey found it impossible to tear his eyes off her.

"I can't believe we're finally doing this," she said gleefully.

"Yeah," Joey answered. He squeezed her hand and gave her a smile. "I wanted to do this for a long time."

She chuckled back at him. "Me too."

"I have to ask you," he said as they stepped onto the escalators heading down into the train station. Joey took the step in front of her and turned around to face her, and only then realized that now that he was nearly a foot lower, this brought his face straight to her bosom. "Um..."

"Yes?" she asked.

"Well, I was going to ask you..." He cleared his throat and blushed. She grinned. "I mean ... Do you always keep your business cards stuffed in your ... um..." He gestured.

Lynne giggled and glanced down at her impressive chest. "What? You don't think there's enough room in there?"

"You ARE carrying a purse. You could have put them in there."

She shrugged. "Well, yeah. I could have done that. But you got me thinking about publicity, and I thought it's more than just getting your name and work out there. You've got to make yourself memorable." She raised an eyebrow. "You think she'll remember me?"

"Oh, I'm sure she'll remember you," Joey decided. "She'll never forget that moment." He squinted at her and gave her a devilish grin. "So, is there anything else in there I need to know about?"

"Oh, Joey!" she mock-scolded him, and they reached the end of the escalator. She pulled him by the hand towards the farecard machines. "Of all the ways to find out what's in my bra, you decide to ASK me? That's so disappointing!" She stopped in front of the map. "How much do we need?" she asked, pulling open her purse.

"Oh, no, I've got it," Joey said, pulling out his wallet.

"No, no. I can get this," she insisted.

"Lynne. It's our first date. I get to do this."

She smiled shyly at him and closed her purse. "Thanks."

"No problem," he said proudly, and Joey started feeding money into the machine. "It's my pleasure. And besides, I know you don't have that much money. So tonight is my treat." He punched the buttons and finished extracting two farecards, and then turned back to her. And it was at that point when he noticed that she was standing sullen. Her face had fallen. Her smile was gone, replaced by a look of depression.

"I'm not poor," she said defensively.

A chill ran down his spine, and his heart sank, for he realized what he just said sounded insulting. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by that." Joey stepped up to her, but she turned her head away from him, obviously hurt. He sighed. "Money is an issue for you, isn't it?"

She shrugged. "Well..." she started, but didn't finish.

"Hey, I know that you and your brother go out every afternoon and do that busking thing, which I had to look up, and you worked over the summer doing concerts, and you're concerned about your sales. You work hard." Joey paused and took a deep breath. "Lynne, I used to be homeless. That's as poor as you can get. And you know what I learned? Money doesn't make someone valuable. There are some people in this world who have gobs of money and are still completely worthless, and there are others who are valuable all by themselves. I'd much rather be with valuable people."

He watched her carefully, and she smirked and turned her dark eyes back towards him. Her lips curled into a smile, and her eyebrow lifted.

"You are so cute," she said to him.

He grinned back at her, and handed her a farecard. "Here. Put this someplace safe."

They made their way to the turnstiles, and Lynne passed through first. As she took the returned farecard, she turned to Joey. Making sure she had his attention, she then stuffed her farecard into her bra.

By this time they were dealing with a fairly large crowd of people; rush hour commuters and couples and groups going out for the evening. Joey never felt comfortable in large crowds, always feeling like someone was hunting him and hiding in the throngs of people, but Lynne seemed to thrive in it. As Joey tried to awkwardly push his way through the masses, Lynne, tightly holding his hand, just took the lead, expertly winding and weaving her way through the ever thickening horde of travellers. Joey was amazed at her ability to navigate a crowd. Either people just simply got out of her way, or she just innately knew where they were going and stepped into their wake. But whatever it was, she managed to thread them through, down the second escalator, and straight to the edge of the tracks.

"How do you do that?" he asked her.

She just grinned and giggled at him. "It's a gift," she said, squeezing his hand and swaying on her heels.

The crowd grew and thickened around them, and soon the lights on the floor flashed, signalling the approach of the Red Line train. They stepped back from the edge, and the squealing brakes and the strong gust of wind heralded the arrival of the train. Lynne's long tresses blew about wildly, and her skirt rippled in the gale, hugging her shapely thighs, and she luxuriated in the blast of warm wind. The train arrived, slowing, stopping, opening, and it spilled its passengers into the crowd.

Joey scanned the crowd again, ever watchful, with old habits and old phobias gripping him. Gus had warned him about crowds, and he had seen kids picked off and taken in a crowd, never to be seen again. He held onto Lynne's hand tightly and watched the throngs of people as they moved on with their lives, unaware of the dangers they walked into.

And then he felt it.

He didn't see who it was. He just felt it. It was an instinct, or a glimpse out of the corner of his eye. Someone staring at him in the crowd. He turned and searched, peering and exploring. The sea of faces and bodies obscured whoever it was. But it was real. He felt it. Someone was watching him.

The passengers completed exiting, and Lynne yanked on his hand, pulling his body and his attention back to the moment, and they boarded the train. She pulled him to a pair of seats and sat down, smoothing her skirt under her and taking the window seat. He took the seat next to her, and watched the line of people as they entered the train and shuffled past them.

Eyes everywhere, many of them on the two of them. Most were glances in Lynne's direction, men and women taking in her cleavage and then glancing at him in envy or admiration, but that wasn't what he was looking for. He was looking for the person who was looking for him. He scanned and stared and waited.

"Hey," he heard her say, and a hand grabbed onto his tie and pulled him over. He turned to her, and her lips were right there.

She kissed him.

Long kiss. Deep kiss, from nowhere. Soft lips, warm breath on his cheek, warm heat from her body, firm breasts pushing into his arm. A fruity smell and taste on her lips that he couldn't immediately identify. Sensuous. Mouth open, but no tongue. His heart skipped a beat, and then surged in his chest, flooding his body with excitement and pleasure. His cock twinged awake, pumping and demanding.

Strawberry. That was it. Strawberry lip gloss.

She pulled back, breaking the kiss, but she held his gaze in her dark eyes, pulling directly on his soul. Her pink lips curled into a scolding smile. "Pay attention to me," she instructed him.

"Oh, um ... Okay." He chuckled. "Sorry." Her dark eyes held his attention. "I just don't feel comfortable in crowds."

"It's just me. I'm the only one here," she offered. He glanced about at the surrounding crowd, and tried to smile back to her, but couldn't do it. She squinted at him. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"I just wasn't expecting that."

She studied him carefully. "Didn't you like it?"

"Oh I did, but..." He sighed. "I was just hoping our first kiss would be more..." He looked around at the crowd, many of whom were watching them. " ... intimate. Something I was ready for."

Lynne's face darkened, and she took in a deep breath. "Sorry. I guess I didn't do that very well."

"No, you did pretty good. It was just poor timing."

She sighed. "I'm sorry."

An awkwardness grew between them as she dropped her eyes from him. Joey could feel her pain and embarrassment, and he wrapped one arm about her shoulder, pulling her in and squeezing her tight to him. "It's okay. We just won't count that one. We'll call it an accident."

She smiled.

"We'll just say we bumped into each other, lips first. People will believe that, won't they?"

She chuckled and snuggled into his arm, and he could feel her cold skin warming against him. "Sure!" she agreed. "Happens all the time."

The doors chimed and closed, and the train pulled out of the station, and accelerated into the dark tunnel.

They rode for many minutes, the train stopping at the various stations along the way. More people got on each time, and the train was soon standing room only. They passed through Metro Center, where fully half of the passengers got off, only to be replaced by even more passengers. One station later at Gallery Place in Chinatown it happened again.

They didn't talk for much of the trip. Lynne spent most of the time leaning into Joey, snuggling up to him. At first he thought she was just being quiet because she was embarrassed about the kiss, but he soon saw her face twitching into odd expressions which didn't seem connected with anything. He had seen similar behavior in her brother. It was an A.D.D. flare-up he assumed, and he simply held her close and comforted her as she tried reconnecting her mind.

The Red Line continued for several stations, the passengers thinning out with each stop. And as it passed Union Station, the tracks rose out of the tunnels and out into the bright daylight. Lynne perked up and watched the world pass by outside the window as the train sped on.

So far, Joey was having a marvelous time. He had this beautiful girl in his arms, and she was leaning back into him and they were watching the setting sun through the scrolling trees and buildings and roads. Her hair smelled fresh and flowery, her body like baby powder and feminine essence, and her lips smelled like strawberries, and he inhaled her bouquet of scents deeply, and they just watched the world. Well, that was probably what she was doing and what she thought he was doing, but from this position he also had a spectacular view straight down the front of her dress. Lynne's big, round breasts bounced and shook and jiggled and shimmied and jiggered in her dress with the constant vibrations of the train, and no one would really be able to blame him for it, but he was really incapable of seeing anything else right then. It was a constant show of perpetual rippling boobquakes that hypnotized him and gave him a raging boner.

"My god, they're huge," he thought to himself, and he could barely wait for the day when he would be able to explore her heavenly breasts. "Does she really think that farecard is safe in there?" He squeezed her body tightly under the pretense of holding her close, but mostly to allow his arm to press up against the undersides of her bosom. She snuggled into him, enjoying the contact. "Not Tricia's size, but definitely like Annie's." He wondered just how large they were, not in cup size, but in comparison to other objects. The traditional way to gauge breast size was to compare them to either fruit or sports balls, and because he didn't get into sports, he decided to go with fruit.

"Certainly larger than apples, and tomatoes, that's for sure. Peaches? No. Not like cantaloupes. Maybe something like..."

"Pears!" she said out of the blue.

Joey's spine chilled in shock. "What?"

"Pears," she repeated, pointing. "You know 'em?"

"Umm..." He grasped at anything. "Navel Oranges?"

She turned to him. "Huh?"

"What are you talking about?"

"What are YOU talking about?" she asked him.

"What do you mean by 'pears'?"

She pointed out the window again. "Do you know about him?"

Joey looked out the window. "What pears? What do you mean..." Then he saw it. "OH!" he exclaimed, and he slapped his forehead. "You mean Pear!"

"Yeah! Pear!"

"You mean the graffiti!"

"Yeah! It's all over the place!" she said, pointing to the endless streams of graffiti painted on the walls of buildings and embankments. "Pears, and Rezist, and what does that say, Moe? Che, Jake ... I keep seeing it everywhere. Do you know any of them?"

Joey shook his head, both in an answer to her question, as well as relief that some telepathic connection hadn't occurred without him knowing about it. "No. Never met them."

"But I thought you lived on the streets here. I thought you knew everyone."

"No. There are a lot of streets. If I ever met them, I never knew who they were."

She settled back into his lap again. "I don't understand graffiti," she said, leaning back into his chest.

"What's to understand?"

"Well, it's pretty and all, but I don't see the point. If you're going to do art, then do ART, don't just ... TAG things." She gestured at the window. "I mean, I like the designs and the colors, but it's just marking territory. It's pissing on walls with art."

"Well, some of the designs are pretty complex..."