Jackie Collins, page 10
"Going for a drive, talking about our future. It's about time."
"I guess so," she said hesitantly, taking a long deep breath. A drive
was good, it would give her an opportunity to tell him she didn't think
they had a future.
Stock drove like a rich kid showing off. His father had weakened and
promised him a new car for Christmas, so he really let the Thunderbird
rip, zooming down Main Street as though he was competing in a drag
race.
"Not so fast," she said, clutching the dashboard.
"Calm down."
She hated being told to "calm down"-like she was hysterical or
something. "Where are we going?" she asked.
"Over to the old athletic field," he replied, taking one arm from the
steering wheel and placing it around her shoulders.
The deserted field just outside town was a notorious necking spot.
"No," she said quickly.
"Why not?"
"You know why."
"We're engaged. We can go anywhere."
"That's what I want to talk to you about."
"I thought I was the one who wanted to talk."
"We should both talk," she said seriously.
Against her better judgment she allowed him to drive to the old field,
where he parked the car, dimmed the headlights and immediately
swooped.
"What are you doing?" she said, pushing him off.
"What I should've done a couple of months ago," he replied, his big
hands roaming all over her.
She slapped his hands away. "C'mon, Stock, don't start this."
"What are you, Lauren? Some kind of ice queen?" He said, managing to
clamp his lips down on hers.
She struggled free. "Will you stop it!"
He drew away from her, clenching his fists. "Christ! When do I get to
first base with you?"
"Never," she replied heatedly. "This engagement is a big mistake.
We weren't meant to be together."
He sat up straight. "What the hell do you mean by that?"
"I never should have said yes. I don't know why I did. My parents
encouraged me. They like you, they like your family. They think we
make a great match." She knew she was speaking too fast, but now she
was on a roll and couldn't stop. "I'm not ready to get involved."
"You were involved with Sammy Pilsner," he said slyly.
"What do you know about me and Sammy?" she snapped, her cheeks
reddening.
"Nothing much. Just that he used to tell all the guys he was getting a
blow job from you.
She couldn't believe Sammy would have betrayed her. "I don't believe
you," she said fiercely.
"It's true, isn't it? And if you did it to him, I want the same." And
with that he launched himself upon her again.
She wasn't Meg, about to let some oaf have his way with her. "If you
don't stop I'm getting out of the car," she threatened, once more
slapping his hands away.
"Go ahead," he replied confidently. "It's a long walk home."
"You think that's going to stop me?"
"Aw, shit, you're behaving just like a dumb girl," he whined. "Anybody
else would love being here with me."
He was nothing but a braggart and a bully. She glared at him
furiously. "I'm not anybody else, it's about time you realized
that."
Sensing her anger he rapidly changed tactics. "C'mon, Lauren," he
wheedled. "I only wanna love you up a little." And it was hands all
over her again.
Every time he launched an attack she felt incredibly vulnerable.
He was so big and strong, it would be easy for him to overpower her.
She knew she had to make a move, and make it fast. She groped for the
door handle, sprung it open and bolted. "I'm out of here," she
yelled.
"You're nothing but a sex maniac!"
"And you're nothin' but a prick tease!" he yelled back.
"Get lost, Stock Browning!" Burning with fury she set off down the
road.
Stock suddenly realized she was serious. He started the engine, turned
the car around and drove after her. Winding down the window he leaned
out. "Get back in. Stop being stupid."
"I don't need this," she replied, marching along the bumpy country
road.
He was contrite. "I won't touch you again. I swear I won't."
She stopped walking and whirled around to face him. "What do you swear
on?" she demanded, not relishing the thought of a fivemile walk
home.
"My father's life."
"Big deal."
"Okay, okay, I'll swear on my own life. Does that make you happy?
Now get back in the car." He threw open the passenger door and she
climbed in. "I'll behave myself," he said, backing down all the way.
"I wait until we're married. That's a promise.
You'll have a long wait, she thought. A real long wait.
he school play was due to take place a few days before Christmas
break.
Lauren was so immersed in her role that she decided to put the incident
with Stock behind her and deal with him after Christmas.
Her New Year's resolution was to get rid of him once and for all.
Her parents were driving her crazy-all they wanted to talk about was
wedding dates.
"I was married to your father when I was barely eighteen," her mother
said.
"I'm only sixteen," she pointed out. "And I'm not getting married."
"Why not?" Jane and Phil chorused.
What was it with them? Were they trying to get rid of her? Or
couldn't they wait to share in all the perks that being related to the
Brownings would bring them?
Rehearsals became the most important thing in her life. The only
interruption was the arrival of Betty's brother. Harrington Harris
looked like a famous actor. Tall, in his early forties, he had a
receding hairline, long sideburns to compensate, lecherous eyes and a
disarming manner. Every girl in the class immediately fell in love,
including Meg. "Harrington's the most exciting man I've ever met," she
confided to Lauren.
Sitting at the back of the class, he jumped to attention. "I . . . I
can't do this," he mumbled.
"Come along, dear," Betty said crisply. "You joined this group, I'm
sure you're perfectly capable of giving it a try."
Reluctantly he got up and made his way to the stage, where Lauren sat
at a makeshift dressing table brushing her hair.
"This is the scene at the beginning of the play where Maggie and Brick
have a confrontation," Betty explained. "You've watched the scene,
Nick. You can do it."
He clutched the script tightly. Christ! He'd joined the group to get
closer to Lauren, but he hadn't expected to get this close. What if he
made a fool of himself?
He opened the script and stared blankly at the words. It wasn't like
he hadn't watched Dennis say them enough times, and if Dennis could do
it, so could he. Angry at himself for getting trapped, he began to
read.
Lauren turned around and responded to his lines, her eyes flashing.
Soon he relaxed and started to get into it. Hey, it wasn't as bad as
he'd imagined. Suddenly he wasn't Nick anymore, he was just an actor
playing a role, and jeer, it was a kick!
When the scene was finished he dropped the script to the floor and
reality came flooding back.
Lauren was staring at him. She had the most beautiful eyes he'd ever
seen. He turned to Betty Harris, anxious for her reaction.
"That was very good, dear," Betty said, beaming happily. "I'm
impressed. Now all you have to do is learn the words."
Learn the words. Was she kidding? "Ah . . . yeah, yeah, sure," he
assured her, sounding a lot more confident than he felt.
"Then there's no panic," Betty said, relieved. "Class, you can relax
-we have our Brick."
Outside the church hall it was cold and dark. Tiny snowflakes were
beginning to fall. Nick leaned against the old bike Dave's brother had
lent him. It certainly beat taking the bus. He waited patiently for
Lauren. According to Aretha Mae, Stock and his parents were in Kansas
City attending a family funeral, so there'd be no boyfriend lurking
about.
She came out a few minutes later.
"Too old for me."
Meg winked. "Certainly not too old for me. And he's asked me out."
Here we go again, thought Lauren. "Maybe he's married," she said.
Meg was silent.
"Well, is he?"
"How do I know?"
"Are you going out with him?"
"Of course I am. It's an adventure."
"And I suppose I'm your excuse?"
"Of course you're my excuse."
At least Meg finally seemed to have gotten over Nick, which meant that
maybe she could talk to him now. It wasn't easy pretending she didn't
notice him-even though they kept on exchanging long looks, and she was
painfully aware of everything he did.
Meg set off for her date with Harrington Harris full of her usual
enthusiasm. The following day her enthusiasm had turned to outrage.
"He jumped me," she complained.
Lauren shook her head in wonderment. "What did you expect? A cup of
coffee and an intellectual chat? Naturally he jumped you. Sex.
That's all men want. Didn't your mother teach you that?"
Meg giggled. "As a matter of fact she did."
"So what did you do this time?"
"I told him I was a virgin. That frightened him off."
"At least you're learning."
A few days later Meg came down with the mumps. Twenty-four hours later
so did Harrington Harris. Unfortunately, several other members of the
cast caught the dread disease, including Dennis, much to Lauren's
disappointment.
"What will we do about the play?" she asked Betty Harris.
Betty was as upset as she was. She surveyed her class of high school
students, searching their eager young faces for someone to replace
Dennis, her eyes finally falling on Nick. He was such a handsome boy
in an intense kind of way, and he certainly looked as if he might be
able to handle it. Not that she had any idea if he could act or not,
but she waved the script at him, and told him to get on stage and read
with Lauren.
uh I just wanted to say thanks," He stepped forward. "Hey he said,
kicking a pebble on the ground.
he stopped. "For what?"
"Y'know, for not letting me look like a jerk."
She held out her hand to catch a snowflake. "You handled it really
well. You must have acted before."
He laughed. "Who, me? No way.
"Then you're a natural."
Now he was embarrassed. "Well, like I've seen a lotta movies, stuff
like that."
"It's not easy the first time you have to get up in front of people.
But honestly-you knew what you were doing."
He stamped his feet on the ground, warming up. "Thanks. That's a nice
present."
"Present?"
"Yeah. It's my birthday today."
"Really?"
"How come you didn't tell anyone?"
"Hey . . . Seventeen . . . it's no big deal."
"My parents always make sure my birthday's a big deal. I have a huge
cake and friends over to the house and lots of presents. What did you
get?"
"My family don't give presents."
She wondered about his family, there'd certainly been enough gossip
about them in school. "Aren't you going to celebrate at all?" she
asked, half expecting Dawn to put in an appearance and drag him off.
He pulled up the collar of his denim jacket and stamped his feet
again.
"Nah, guess not."
"You have to do something," she said, prolonging the moment. "At least
let me buy you a cup of coffee and a piece of cake."
He wasn't about to turn this invitation down. "Great," he said
quickly. "Let's go."
"I've got a car," she said. "Leave your bike here and we'll pick it up
later."
"Do I get to drive?"
"It's the family station wagon," she said apologetically. "Only I am
llowe(1 to (Irive it."
He grinned. "What're they gonna do, shoot you?"
"I guess they let me live," she said, smiling back.
Oh, God! Why was she doing this? She tried to tell herself she felt
sorry for him, that nobody should be alone on their birthday. But it
was more than that and she knew it. Nick Angelo was exciting, and she
wanted some of that excitement.
They walked over to the car.
"Like one of these days I'm getting me a bright red Cadillac," he
said.
"Yeah, a Cadillac-that's the car for me."
"Why a Cadillac?"
"I dunno. It's just kinda . . . a cool car. An' it's made pretty
good.
It's" She smiled again. "You're very patriotic."
"You gotta be something, right?"
Their eyes met. "Right," she said.
The snow kept everyone home, and by the time they reached the drugstore
it was almost empty. Nick guided her into a booth and slid across the
other side. "What'll you have?"
"I'm buying," she reminded him.
"I'm driving, so I'm buying," he countered.
She laughed. "No way. It's your birthday."
Louise came over, tapped her order pad and threw Nick a disapproving
look. "What'll it be?" she asked, pen poised.
"I'm starving," Lauren said. "How about two cheeseburgers?"
"Yeah, an' let's go for a couple of chocolate malts along with that,"
Nick added, winking at Louise.
"And fries," Lauren said.
"With ketchu" he interrupted.
"And fried onions."
"Yeah! Right!"
They both burst out laughing as Louise walked briskly to the kitchen.
"I like a girl who eats," he said, grinning.
"From what I hear you like all girls," she replied, immediately
thinking, Oh, no! Why did I say that? It makes me sound like a
jealous idiot!
"That's cause I'm not engaged," he said, staring pointedly at her
ring.
She hurriedly slid her hands under the table. "Stock's very nice," she
said defensively.
"Very nice, my ass."
"I don't know. . . maybe it's not going to work out the way everybody
thinks." Why was she revealing herself to him?
He leaned across the table. "Are you telling me you're not engaged?"
She hesitated for a moment, then plunged right in. "I'm just saying
certain people have expectations. My parents think we make a great
couple. But what I really want is to go to New York and give acting a
try. When I'm older, of course."
"Sounds cool to me. You told him?"
"No, and I don't have to tell him. My future doesn't necessarily lie
