TITLE    : Two Hearts Stand Alone Pt. 01
STORYID  : two-hearts-stand-alone-pt-01
SUMMARY  : Two longtime friends find romance. This is their story.
AUTHOR   : photodad@lit
DATE     : 2010-06-22
CATEGORY : adult-romance
FLAGS    : h
TAGS     : |friends|prom|highschool|romantic|novel|softcore|love|long story|relationship|


<i>Author's note:



A bit of a warning before people haul off and flame me in comments or start pegging the #1 star: This is a long story. Near the end in part 2 or 3 there may be a hint of eroticism, and nothing in that regard until then. This first part is all about character development. So, if you're looking for a get-off-quick limerick, please look elsewhere.



To everyone else who prefer a book-like heart-warming tale, please enjoy and I hope you can give me 5's.</i>



***



Chapter 1



Christine was drifting off in her bed when she heard the familiar soft double tap on her window. As expected the window opened and for a brief moment the sound of crickets drifted inside before the window closed behind her visitor.



"How'd you do?" she mumbled.



"Eh, 54.08 on the 400," came the reply. "I came in third."



Christine turned in her bed to face the welcome intruder. "That's not a terrible time for you Chris. What about the relay?"



She could see the brilliance of the smile light up the room. "Second place. We're going to state, C!" 



Anyone outside the relationship would have expected her to jump up and smother the figure in hugs. But this was Chris and Chris. Instead, she sighed in satisfaction, worn out from her own trials of the day. "I knew you could do it."



Chris kicked off his shoes and fell back into the bed for what seemed like the millionth time. He looked over to the darkened face. "What about you? How did your recital go?"



"As expected. Rubbed my hands raw waiting for my turn twice. I don't know why they keep putting me last."



He touched her nose lightly in his ritual expression of affection for her. "You know why, and you won't admit it. They save the best for last."



She twitched her nose in mock annoyance at the itch he created. "Whatever. If I was the last to go for piano, I could have easily picked up the violin, played, and run screaming for the exit."



Chris turned on his back, staring at the ceiling. "Was it really that bad?"



Christine gave a weak chuckle. "No, I guess not," she breathed resignedly.



He smiled broadly at the ceiling. "I knew it. You enjoy performing!"



She grunted in exacerbation, "so? Quit telling me 'I told you so!' It's so annoying! What time is it?"



"Just after midnight. That bus ride was so long...and hot."



She sniffed. "Yeah, I can tell," she giggled. "Go take a shower before you mess up my sheets even more with your icky boy sweat!"



He got up and took off his shirt, heading for her bathroom. "You're lucky I can tolerate girl cooties, or I'd never lie in your bed next to you!"



"You mean unlucky, eww." She took one of her pillows and flung it into the back of his head. "Go on, clean up! I want to ask you something serious when you get back out."



His smile from when he was playfully hit faded and he turned around. "What is it?"



"Go shower," Christine said plainly. "It might be easier to ask if you don't smell like a hog."



He turned back to the bathroom and closed the door behind him. She sat up and turned on her bedside light, steeling herself to make the plummet of faith when he got back. Propped up against her headboard, wearing only one of his t-shirts she borrowed long ago and a pair of sensible bikini undies, she couldn't help but think about everything that had brought her to this point. Little did she know, Chris was thinking the exact same thing.



It seemed so long ago when they met at recess on the playground. He was quite taken with her from the start. For kids, there seems to be no better icebreaker than tag. No one plans it, just someone tapped her arm, yelling "you're it!" She ran around, chasing various kids before zeroing in on Chris. She slapped his back and yelled "you're it!" He turned and tagged her instantly, repeating the phrase. This triggered a slap fest until one of the other kids called for a new rule &#x2013; no tagbacks. So the game resumed a more interesting flavor, but whenever one of the Chris's got tagged, they gunned for the other, it seemed. They both received a substantial amount of ribbing for their unintended display, and just like that, they avoided each other at recess, playing with their own loosely formed group of friends.



Their mutual avoidance came to an end in fifth grade when the Sadie Hawkins dance was announced. Chris's mom prodded him to take a girl to the dance "because it would be cute." He begrudgingly agreed, and at a recess, he finally found Christine alone walking along the outside of the gym, waiting for her friends to finish eating in the classroom.



His stomach was full of knots, but he mustered up enough courage to eek out, "uh Christine."



"Yes?" she responded in her signature chipper tone.



"Um, hi."



"Hello," she turned toward him, looking confused.



"Oh no," he thought. "She's mad at me for talking to her." But, the thought of facing his mom and telling her he chickened out sent chills through his body. Better Christine say no, than telling his mom he couldn't do it. So, he managed to mumble out loud, "are you going out with anyone?" He wasn't sure what that phrase meant, but he heard one of his friends say she was, and he figured it must mean someone had already laid claim to her company.



She giggled slightly. "No, I went to a movie with Ben and his parents, but I'm not really 'going steady' with anyone."



"Oh good." He was stalling, wondering how long he could keep talking and not pee his pants, he was shaking so bad.



"I guess...why do you ask?" Christine looked around the yard to see if one of her friends would rescue her from the awkward moment Chris created. Sure enough, one of her friends made her way out of the school hall and was strolling lazily through the brilliant sunshine toward her. "Hurry up, you twit," Christine thought to herself.



Chris saw the friend and nearly panicked. He definitely didn't want to ask in front of anyone for fear of the taunts that would surely result from the impending rejection. He sucked in a deep breath and his mouth seemed to vomit the words all at once. "I was wondering, rather my mom wanted me to ask someone to the dance, and I was wondering if you would." He stared at her in disbelief of himself. "This is not going well," he thought.



Christine seemed rather confused, yet she was also amused at the rapid expulsion of words she just witnessed. "You want me to ask someone to go to the dance for you?" she asked rather sarcastically. Yet, to his surprise, she turned away from her approaching friend and headed for the shade of the gazebo.



Chris didn't know that she was purposely helping him out by giving him a bit more time, but whatever the reason was, he took the opportunity. "Um, no. I was wondering if you would go to the dance with me?"



She replied, "Oh...I hadn't thought of that."



"Sorry, you can say no. I understand..." he spewed.



She made a decision in her head. "Since you're the first to ask. Sure, I'll go with you." With that, she spun around and ran to meet up with her friend.



Chris's mom was very excited to hear that he got his first date, and peppered him with questions about the dance. Being a fifth grade affair, she learned that it was a barn-themed dance, with casual attire recommended. Early in the week, she prodded him to call Christine to set up the time he should pick her up. So, after finding her in the directory, Chris bumbled through getting the time squared away.



When he got home from school the afternoon before the dance, his mom whirled around him, ushering him into the shower, and laying out his best jeans and the new flannel shirt she bought him that morning. He emerged from the shower and she fussed about how he needed to brush his hair. After about 15 seconds of argument over whether he did or didn't, she grabbed the brush and smoothed his hair to her liking. He put on the outfit picked out for him and endured another round of his mom fussing about the way his collar laid and other details. Before he and his parents headed out the kitchen door, his mom grabbed a box out of the fridge. The four minute drive was crammed with his mom giving pointers over her shoulder at him. Open ALL doors for her, including the car door. When she talks, don't interrupt. Suggest a meal you like at the restaurant, but let her decide and order for herself. That kind of stuff.



Christine for her part was amused by the sudden call from Chris. She waited patiently for Chris to stammer out what his mom obviously asked him to, then yelled a shortened version of the question to her mom downstairs, then relayed the answer to Chris on the phone. If her dad was home he would have chuckled at the production. But, that day, he got home just in time to endure the excited chatter between his wife and his daughter. His older son, Tom, was making fun of Christine at dinner, saying it was "just a fifth grade dance that don't mean nothin'." He snapped Tom's mouth shut with a stern look and told him to let Christine have her fun. It was, after all, her first dance. He then corrected Tom, saying "and you mean 'doesn't' and 'anything,' don't you?" He smiled when the reply was "yes, sir."



When Christine got home on dance afternoon, no prodding was necessary for her. She made a beeline for the shower, and spent an hour primping her hair. She tried on different looks in the mirror, ponytails, hair up, hair down, bangs, or no bangs. She finally settled on pigtails and no bangs to keep with the Sadie theme. And that was the easy part. She completed the hard part of picking out what to wear this morning, laying everything out on her bed. Assembling the outfit took the cooperative effort of her and her mom a week of indecision.



As she was finishing up, the doorbell rang. Christine's mom answered it and allowed Chris inside and directed him to their large living room. She noticed his parents waiting in the car and motioned them to come inside as well. She met them cordially and to Chris's embarrassment, the three talked about him and Christine as if he wasn't there. The cool plastic box in his hand started warming up and getting slick with his stress perspiring through the palms of his hands.



If he thought he was nervous now, it wouldn't compare to when Christine appeared in the hallway and headed toward him.



"Hi," Christine said weakly. Chris answered with a barely audible croak, but Christine was able to discern a reply identical to her greeting. After both looked everywhere but each other for a bit, Christine decided to bail Chris out. "Oh, is that for me?" she asked, pointing to the box in his hand.



"Uh, yeah. My mom said I should give this to you."



She took the plastic box from his offered gesture and opened it. Remembering a tip her mom gave her last night, she asked, "Could you put it on?" Christine saw the quizzical look from Chris and clarified with, "on ME?" and stretched out her arm toward him.



He took the wristlet made of white daisies and yellow dandelions from its loose moss nest and slipped it over her hand. "I hope you like it. If not, you can tell my mom. She picked it out."



"That's not nice," she frowned and lightly slapped his flannel shoulder. "It's pretty. Thank you."



They were suddenly aware that the house was quiet, and looked up at their parents just in time to be blinded by two camera flashes. "Okay! Picture time!" Chris's mom announced.



Christine's mom nodded. "Everyone outside!"



The couple endured a camera flash barrage while standing next to each other against a large pine tree in Christine's expansive front yard. The attention-induced embarrassment was blessedly put to an end when Chris's parents decided it was best to hurry to dinner so that the couple could get to the dance in time. They were invited by Christine's mom to stop by anytime for a chat, as the adults seemed to become friends very quickly. Everyone loaded into the car, Chris being directed to open a door for Christine by a stern look from his dad.



At the restaurant, Chris debated in his head whether his parents would let him and Christine have their own table. On one hand, it would be nice to finally talk to this pretty and popular girl alone. On the other hand, it could be immensely awkward, as he didn't have a clue on what to talk about. For all his worry, it was settled quickly when his dad told the hostess that they needed a table for four. They all perused the menu and when it was apparent all were ready to order, his mom broke the ice. She peppered Christine with all kinds of questions. Subjects ranged from hobbies to pets, and from school to after-school activities. The waiter came and took everyone's order, and when he left to get the drinks, Chris was thankful that his mom directed her conversation toward his dad.



"So, where's your grandma?" she asked Chris.



"She's watching her 'evening soaps' as she calls it. There wouldn't have been enough room in the car if she came along."



"She's a real nice lady."



"Yeah. She is."



"So, I didn't know you played piano," she said.



That led them through conversation for the rest of dinner. They each took turns talking about how they started lessons, the music they were learning, the quirks of their music teachers, and on to their own differing viewpoints about school and their friends. Everyone passed on dessert, and Chris's dad took care of the bill.



They were dropped off in front of their school's gym, and Chris presented the principal with their tickets. He was wondering about her amused look until they rounded the partition and at once the combined hum of kids talking and music blaring changed to only the music being heard. Without being told, Chris figured out why all the eyes turned to stare at him and his date. Everyone else had arrived "stag." They were the only "couple" to show up together, and Christine was the only female with a corsage. Both froze in their tracks, each thinking in their own way about how big a mistake they just made. Of course the tide in the gym was divided with boys on one side, girls on the other, and Moses himself couldn't have made a more perfect separation between them. Heads of clique members gravitated together to whisper about the pair, and to the two Chrisses, there might as well have been a stage spotlight searing them with its intense beam. Their principal sensed what was going on and came up to them.



"Chris, Christine, don't worry. It's completely appropriate to come here together. The rest of them are just jealous that they didn't think of this dance the same way you two did. Go on and have fun," she encouraged, giving both of them a gentle nudge on their backs.



Neither knew exactly where to "go on" to. In their eyes, the gym had sharks on one side, grizzly bears on the other. The center of the floor was the generally accepted dance floor, but appeared to have been designated "dead man's land" and was just as barren. With a huge sigh, Chris started for a diagonal line across the dance floor, his intended goal being the refreshment table at the back. Christine hesitated for a brief moment. The LAST thing on this Earth she wanted to do right now was be the first on the dance floor. But, Chris had won some of her trust during their conversation at dinner, so she followed his lead. About half way across toward the table, the pair was stopped by a couple of the more popular girls, and they complimented Christine's corsage. They asked Chris all kinds of questions about it like where he got it, how he came up with something so close to the dance theme, and so on. He answered the questions the best he could, throwing in heapfuls of B.S. to complete the answer. Christine grinned at some of his embellishments, but didn't say anything to contradict his "facts."



It didn't escape some of the boys the amount of attention Chris received from the girls, so a small group of them came over in an attempt to gather some of that attention by osmosis. The small gathering eventually pulled in more and more kids and for a few brief moments, the dance floor was the place to be. The crowd still had a visible separation of gender, but it was the closest to a mingling the dance had become that night. The sea eventually parted again, pulling the pair apart by natural force and sucking each into their respective male and female sides.



The DJ tried a tested method of getting people to dance, and put on "Electric Slide." Girls being girls, a small group of the popular ones decided to be silly and emerged on the long vacant dance floor to perform the loosely-choreographed associated dance routine. Chris was happy to see that Christine was in the center of the group and he knew that her popularity was still intact. Following the end of the song was, of course, "Macarena." More girls came out to join in. "Boot Scoot Boogie" closed out the line-dance favorites and made way for a series of high-energy, well-known (to the girls, at least) dance tunes. The DJ grinned as he had saved yet another dance.



Christine bowed out after a bit, and Chris noticed, taking a chance to be a shining-armor savior. He stopped by the refreshment table and went up to Christine. He was happy that it seemed that no one noticed his intrusion into the opposite sex whirlpool. Chris offered his date the punch and cookies he picked up on the way over and jumped at the sudden chorus of "aww's" that erupted from her friends. They snapped shut when Christine shot a "just hush" at them. She leaned in to thank Chris in a whisper and continued on to let him know that she was having fun.



She was finishing her snack when the music changed to a slower pace. Chris turned to go back to his friends, when Christine caught his arm. "Aren't you going to ask me to dance?" she asked.



He glanced around as if unsure if this was a trap. "Are you sure?"



"I don't know. You haven't asked me yet," she responded coyly.



"Okay. Christine?"



"Yes?"



"Would you care to have this dance with me?"



She put her arm inside his and replied, "I'd love to."



Her friends were giggling and whispering amongst themselves as they moved off toward the dance floor, but hushed when the couple stopped a few feet away and faced each other.



"So..." Chris started, but just stood facing Christine. He figured, correctly, that dancing on this side of the floor would be less embarrassing than being in earshot of the jeering remarks from the boys.



"So what?"



"Well, uh, I got you out here."



"Yeah you did."



He bent in low to her. "What do I do now?"



Christine's older siblings left a legacy at the schools they attended for excellence in dancing and performing arts. So, from watching their practices, she already knew what should happen next. But she didn't realize that many of her classmates didn't have that advantage. She smiled kindly and said, "your hands my hips, my hands your shoulders. Then just move to the song."



He did as told, resulting in the familiar middle school dance waddle. It wasn't the most graceful, he knew, but Christine seemed to accept it. The boys on the other side went silly at the new making-fun material, but a few noticed the jealous looks some of the girls had on their faces. At the end of the song, Chris asked his partner if she wanted to go back, but she shook her head no. So, they continued dancing into the next song, and before long, found themselves shuffling in the middle of a number of new couples.



The night wound down with the obligatory "Hokey Pokey," "Chicken Dance," and a "Limbo Stick" contest. The giggles and smiles gave way to a short prize ceremony. Chris and Christine won "Cutest Couple" by default, though if there was competition, the teachers agreed later that they would have won anyway, since they led the slow dancing. Christine also won the award for "Best Themed Attire" with her pigtails and country corsage. The other prizes were awarded and everyone headed for the door.



Chapter 2



Chris' leadership demonstration at the dance caught the eye of the new music teacher, Mrs. Allison, at the school. She talked with his grandmother the next night at Mass, who in turn talked with his parents, and the team signed him up for the children's choir. He protested that night, saying he was already an altar server, but his grandmother wouldn't have it. "Then you'll go to Mass twice on the weekends now, won't you?" she admonished. He couldn't say no to her and answered with a "yes ma'am." He was good at serving. Last month, he gained an extra $200 in gift money after being asked to serve at three weddings and a funeral. If there was a Mass that the Bishop was attending at his church, the first altar server scheduled was Chris. He enjoyed it, and normally would enjoy being asked to sing in the choir, but with piano lessons, the Program for Academically Talented Students extra homework, Boy Scout meetings and activities, and serving, his schedule was rapidly filling up.

<hr pg="2" />At the first practice, he found the upside to his new activity. Christine was there, and apparently the darling of the music teacher. They were better friends than before, but no thought of "going steady." It was, after all, "just a fifth grade dance." Not intending to show anyone up, Chris quickly demonstrated the musical talent given him from his mother. In short fashion, Mrs. Allison had two darlings. "The Chrisses," as she liked to call them, were teamed up frequently to do duets, song lead, and sang to fill in while the rest of the choir received communion. The choir rehearsals soon focused on the upcoming Christmas children's Mass. Mrs. Allison had picked out two solos and two duets for each, requiring them to stay after practice frequently to fine-tune their performances.



On these days, the two would walk together to Christine's house. They would talk about their day, but rarely say anything really worthwhile. Sometimes Chris would be invited by her mom to stay for dinner. Most other times he would just say goodbye when they arrived at her garage door, go in the backyard, say hi to the sheltie dogs Christine's family raised and bred and hop the back fence to continue home by way of a trail that led to his neighborhood. He enjoyed the times he was invited to dinner. That's not to say he didn't enjoy being home, but Christine's family had become friends with his, even though there was a bit of tension with her older brother. Christine's mom once told Chris that Tom was just being protective of his little sister, and not to let him scare him off. He didn't, and even the dogs seemed to accept him as part of their family. Especially the newest puppy they kept, Pepper.



Sometimes after the dinners, her family would gather in the den and Chris got to see how deep musical talent ran in her family. Tom would masterfully play the piano, his girlfriend Jill would strum a guitar, and Christine would sing. When the two oldest sisters came home from college for winter break, it was a real treat. The oldest, Nancy, did not have a lingering legacy for song and dance at his school that Chris knew of, but in private settings such as these, her voice was like an angel, very similar to Christine's. Mary also played guitar very well, but she was best known for her high-energy dance and acting performances. Together, the siblings were marvelous, and Chris thought to himself that they should take the act on the road. Each time, he was encouraged to join in, but he was too shy of his ability to accept.



He had no logical reason to be shy, though. The Christmas performance went perfectly well. So much so that after the last hymn he and Christine sang together as a duet, the congregation stood, faced the choir loft at the back and gave a solid ovation. The pair instantly became the go-to choice for many school and parish functions. To polish his performance, Mrs. Allison offered Chris free voice lessons. His came directly after Christine's, and their teacher would end hers and begin his lesson by having them sing a different show or movie tune together. Sometimes Christine would wait for Chris, and walk home with him, and other times not. But unknown to him, she stayed to listen to his lesson just outside the door. Just as unknown to her, he would come early to do the same.



They loved hearing each other sing, but as close friends as they were, the romantic interest just wasn't there. Or so it seemed to everyone. The next dance, the Spring "Sock Hop," Christine accepted an invitation from one of the other boys. Chris asked one of his other classmates to go. In fact, they did not attend another dance together until the 8th grade, when Christine asked him to her off-campus dance club's "Noel" formal dance. He accepted, and they went as friends. He still waddled, and Christine giggled, but she started giving him lessons with each song. She was happy that he didn't take things wrong and get frustrated. Instead, he took her advice in stride, and was a decent dance partner by the end of the event. 



She enjoyed his polite company and improvement so much that she also asked him to the Southern Belle Debutantes Ball for the spring. Chris readily accepted and was the envy of most of the guys in his class. It was an exclusive dance. In order to go, a boy must be asked by an active female member of the club. Since only Christine and one other girl in their class were members, only Chris got invited. (Megan asked one of the male club members from a high school to go).



That summer was a flurry of activities for both families. Chris made Eagle Scout, and his family was involved in planning and hosting the award ceremony. He invited Christine and her family to come, but Tom was entering his senior high school year, and their summer was planned out so he could tour colleges. Chris and Christine did not see each other until the end of the vacation. Chris was asked to see to the dogs while her family was away that week. When they arrived home, they saw Chris throwing a tennis ball in their backyard and playing fetch. Christine left her stuff in the car and ran to greet Chris. Her dad called after her to get her to bring in her bags, but she dismissed him with a wave of her hand. The two met at the gate and hugged each other. She wanted to sit in the yard and visit, but Chris declined. He gestured toward their Suburban and offered to bring in her bags for her. They sat in her room for a few hours, relating their summers. Chris sat on the floor and Pepper laid next to him, her chin resting on his knee. Although they never spoke to each other about what school they were going to next, they assumed, correctly, that the other was going to Catholic High.



Freshman year, they only had one class together, but it proved to be more than enough. Chris' mom was an elementary teacher who taught at a nearby school. So, the most economical way for him to get to school was to get up early with his parents and ride with his mom. The plan was for him to go into the cafeteria, which was unlocked earlier by the janitor and wait for school to begin. It was going to be a two hour wait, and he could use it to study or finish homework. He would also have to wait in the same cafeteria for more than an hour each day until his mom could pick him up. It was a small sacrifice for him to be able to go to his school of choice. 



The second day was Intro to Music. When he walked in, Christine was already there. He sat next to her and they chatted about yesterday's experience of being in a new school. When the teacher walked in, Chris let out a small "oh shit." Their teacher was Mrs. Allison, who had gained the job at the high school this year.



"What is it?" Christine asked.



"Mrs. Allison."



"So? That should make this class cake for us."



Chris sighed. "I guess it would, but I quit voice and piano this summer. I don't think she took it well."



"You quit? You didn't tell me that. Why?"



"You weren't around, and I forgot to tell you about it."



Christine glared at him. "Okay, but I meant why did you quit?"



"I got tired of the constant practicing. Every free moment I had at home, my mom would turn into the Practice Nazi, and insisted on sitting in every time I sat down at that bench."



"So?"



"So, she used to be a music teacher herself, right? It was like getting nonstop lessons every day of my life. If she wasn't correcting me, she had Grandma in there to listen too. So, if I wasn't getting schooled, I was performing for critics."



"But you love them, though. I know you do."



"Yes, but that still doesn't change that it just plain got old."



Christine responded with a "hmph" when Mrs. Allison broke the murmur in the room.



She introduced herself, then said it was good to see some of her previous students. Christine beamed while Chris seemed to sink lower in his chair. The class proceeded normally until their teacher wrapped thing up at the bell with, "Chris, Christine, could you stay after?" This, of course, was responded to with a collective "ooooh" from the other students. When everyone else left, Mrs. Allison smiled at her darling proteges. She told them that she was starting a drama club at the school and wanted them to join. Christine readily said yes, while Chris mumbled an affirmative reply. He just couldn't say no to a request from an authority figure. Mrs. Allison smiled at him and said, "don't worry. We'll keep it fun." The two students left the room and headed to their lockers on their way to lunch.



A few weeks into the school year, Chris began to get bored waiting for the start of the day. He would wander the halls, pacing more than anything. One day he looked at one of the classroom doors and wondered if he could pick the lock. Using his learner's permit, and looking over his shoulders frequently, he got the door open. He would do this about every other morning. Just unlock the door, pull it open, and let it fall closed and locked. He got good at it and was able to jimmy the computer lab door and walked in. It was more of a dare to himself than anything else. He looked around the lab, and exited without touching anything. He never got caught. The antics quieted his boredom somewhat, but after a couple more weeks, he grew tired of that, as well.



Christine noticed his mood change before anyone else. He seemed darker, more distant. His easy smile had disappeared. She knew he had made some new friends, just as she did, so he was not a loner. On one particular day, she saw him walking with his shoulders drooping. It was definitely not like him to be so down. She chanced texting him in class.



"U ok?"



A few minutes went by before her phone vibrated in her lap. "I'm fine. Why?"



She thought about his clipped answer for a minute. "I know you better than that."



His reply came very quick. "I wish everyone would just leave me alone. U too."



Christine felt like someone had physically slapped her. She recovered and sucked in a sigh. "Find me after school. Let's talk about this."



"CHRISTINE!!" the teacher bellowed.



She blinked away the surprise, swallowed hard and answered, "Yes, Mr. Harrington?"



"Phone! Now!"



She discretely swiped her finger across the top character row and hit send while walking up the row to surrender her phone. "Sorry, sir."



The teacher looked at her hard. "You may retrieve it when class ends." She made it back to her seat when he continued, "Next time, you'll have to get it back from Sister Collins." Christine tuned out the rest of his speech to the class about the evils of using their cell phone for any reason during a class.



Chris read the message she sent with the gibberish at the end. He knew that meant that she had to get rid of the phone quickly. He half chuckled as he thought to himself, "that's what she gets for bugging me in class."



The school day ended with the drama club meeting. Christine was already there when Chris sulked in. He barely lifted his eyes from the floor. The audition results shook out to where the Chrisses won the supporting character roles. The play was set in a high school setting, and their characters were attached to each other as boyfriend/girlfriend. Christine normally enjoyed rehearsing opposite Chris, but she felt that today it would be like pulling teeth to get any emotion out of him. Mrs. Allison started the meeting and wanted them to perform a part in front of the group where their characters discuss the relationship of the main characters. The first few lines went okay, as far as memorization went, but Chris was definitely off emotionally.



Christine grew tired of it and said, "why didn't you find me after school?"



"Ahh, going off-script again," Chris thought. "I did. Here we are."



The rest of the drama troupe chuckled, as the performing couple would occasionally ad-lib lines to break up the monotony of practice. It usually was quite humorous. Christine was unfazed though and stared up at him. "I meant so that we could talk...in private."



Chris lost his reasoning from all the early mornings and his busy life outside of school. So, he stayed in character, even though he knew it would upset her as she was being serious. "We are. We're in this beautiful park on a sunny day. What's on your mind?"



Christine's eyes grew very dark, a sure sign to Chris that she was pissed. "On my mind? Really? That's how you want to play this?" One of the upperclassmen darted out the open door when she continued. "How about you? What's on your mind? I can't tell lately, because YOU DON'T TALK TO ME!"



The girl streaked up the hallway to the senior area. She found a group seniors mingling there and said, "Tom, come quick! The Chrisses are getting into it." By now, the whole school knew who she would be talking about, as the pair accepted a few requests to sing, or speak together in front of the student body at various events. They were regarded as an adorable couple, even though they were not consciously romantically involved. None of the seniors wanted to miss the promise of an entertaining display, even if it was a couple of freshmen, and the group sprinted toward the drama classroom. They could hear Chris yelling as they approached the door.



"...and don't you stand there telling me what I am or am not!"



The group could feel the tension in the room. Mrs. Allison stood in a corner, completely lost as to what to do. The rest of the drama troupe sat at tables facing the argument, stone quiet. Normally, you would expect teen witnesses of this kind of event to be egging on the conflict. But, to everyone there, this was perceived as a lover's battle. Any misstep by someone outside the argument would likely get hit with crossfire far worse than the volleys currently being launched. The girl asked Tom, almost pleading, "aren't you going to get in there?"



Tom replied in a whisper, almost seeming to enjoy watching the conflict, "are you kidding? I saw this coming since last week! It's about time this happened. Besides, Christine can take care of herself."



Christine fired back at Chris, "why shouldn't I? Someone has to show you what you are! You've been so full of shit lately that you shut everyone out!"



Tom looked down at his friend and whispered, "See?"



Chris shook his head and clenched his fists against the stress. "I told you I wanted to be left alone. But, here you are, plowing into it!"



"Because you won't talk to me! What the hell?"



"There you go repeating yourself again. You said that like 50 times."



"That's the only way to get through to you."



"Maybe because I want to be left alone! I'm tired of being pulled everywhere by everybody."



"Oh, so that's it? You're too lazy to deal with anything!" Up to now, the spat had been generalizations of displeasure. With that statement, Christine made it personal.



It was the last thing Chris wanted to hear right now. He flared his nostrils and glared. "You don't know anything about it, 'Miss Thinks She's Perfect!' Your voice is too high and thin for anything to come of it. But, you have it easy, riding on the coattails of your family name."



There was an audible gasp in the room as the verbal blow landed its mark. Christine locked her green-eyes-gone-black on his browns and asked, "Who are you?"



"Who do you think? I'm Chris, you twit!"



She shook her head. "I know Chris and you are not him. I don't like who's standing in front of me now."



"Too bad, love it or leave it, bitch!"



On sheer reaction, she slapped his cheek. Hard. "Don't ever talk to me again! Not until Chris comes back!" With that, she pushed through the crowd standing in the doorway and went into the girls' room to vomit.



Without another word, Chris stormed through the opening, marched the length of the school to his mom's car, and got in. He saw her look at the bruise forming on his face and just said, "things got carried away in drama."



"I guess," was her only reply.



Christine laid on the bed in her room, thinking about what had happened that afternoon. Sarah, her new best friend followed after her to the bathroom and did her best to console her. After some time, they emerged and Tom took her home. Her tears still seemed to run despite her best efforts to choke them back. Even though she was sleepy, Christine stared up at the ceiling, expecting, rather, praying that Chris would call to apologize. That call never came. Rather, at 11:30, her phone buzzed right on schedule. The text message read, "Sorry. G'Nite." Ever since they both got cell phones a couple of months back, Chris would text her a "G'Nite" at 11:30 every night. She smiled to herself despite what she felt. "So, he is still in there somewhere," she thought.



By the next week, things had returned to normal...sort of. There was much debate amongst the drama troupe as to whether either would show up at the next practice. Lots of wagers were lost when both Chrisses showed up. The rest were lost when Mrs. Allison quietly asked if either wanted to change parts. Both declined. Practice resumed as normal and many were surprised to find that it seemed that last week was all but forgotten. The only thing missing was the playful banter between the Chrisses when things were going slow.



The play was presented to the PTA shortly after Christmas break, and it went well. The cast was all smiles when each received a hearty applause at the end. But, as soon as the curtain dropped for the last time, Chris' smile dropped off the face of the planet and he grabbed his bag, slung it over his shoulder and said to Christine, "well, have fun."



She touched his shoulder. "Wait. Mom wants to have you over for dessert. Will you come?"



He turned to face her, his expression glum. "Can't. My mom and grandma want to take me to dinner to 'celebrate.'"



Her eyes pleaded with his. "Then after, could you come by?"



Chris sighed heavily. "Well, then I would wake your parents, 'cause it will be that late."



"Just tap softly on my window, then."



He rolled his eyes at the fact that she seemed unable to take the hint. "If I do that, Pepper will start barking like mad. It would defeat the purpose."



Christine did take the hint, but she was fighting to overcome it. "I'll put the dogs out in the back yard, then. Please come by, I'd like to talk to you."



Chris closed his eyes. "Look, Christine. I said more than I meant to the last time we talked. I know what it did to you..." He stared at the floor. "...And me. I don't want to take that chance again. So, have fun." With that he wheeled around and disappeared off the stage.



A single tear rolled off her cheek. More than she wanted to admit, Christine missed his company, bad. "Was that an apology?" she thought to herself. If so, it was weak. To her, it also meant two things. Chris felt bad for hurting her, and it also meant that he still had a ways to go before he felt he could be his old self. Another thought rolled through her head constantly: whether something else was going on other than being tired and burned out. He still acknowledged her in the hallways, he performed with her whenever he was asked, and his nightly wish was still texted to her every night, but she wanted more than that. Not everything, not even romance, so she thought. Just his friendship back.



That spring, Chris signed up for track. His friends told him they were, so he tagged along. It was a rebuilding year for the school's team, so everyone was instructed by the coach to attempt every event. As things played out, Steve became a triple-jumper, Mike and Mike did pole vault, and Chris ran the 400. All four of the friends placed in the top 6 at every meet, but the 400 had 6 guys running for their school, Chris being the youngest. He knew the upperclassmen would have a leg up to go to the last two meets as only 4 per event could attend. Chris didn't want to get left out of districts, and as that time approached, he asked his coach what he could do to go. Coach told him that as there were only 2 hurdlers, he could learn that and go. So, Chris tried as hard as he could to get his steps down before the Invitational next week. That meet was a disaster for him. His mom came to watch, and she got to see that on the 110 hurdles, he finished 13th out of 13. The 300 hurdles was worse. Their team's experienced hurdlers false started out of the race in the first heat. Chris was up for the next one. He felt pretty good about the race until the final stretch. A stiff coastal wind battered him in the face and he was tired. By the third to last hurdle, his steps were all wrong and just like that, he was standing with the hurdle 6 inches from his hips. He considered just walking off the track in defeat, but then he heard someone behind him. So, doing a standing broad jump, he bounded over the hurdle. On the other side, he lost his balance and fell backward against the hurdle. The top bar broke under him and gouged his thigh. Chris regained his balance and somehow hefted himself over the last two hurdles to finish. His time was a horrific 61.78.

<hr pg="3" />Utterly defeated in mind, body, and spirit, he grabbed his bag, went up to his mom in the stands, and told her to take him home. She asked if that was ok. He said that there was no way he made the finals, and he couldn't run with his leg that badly scratched anyway. So, they left. His coach berated him on Monday.



"Don't ever leave a meet without checking out with me!" he bellowed.



"Sorry coach, I figured I didn't make the finals anyway, so what was the point in staying anyway. Besides I hurt my leg."



"Idiot! You DID make the finals!"



"What?" asked a disbelieving Chris.



"That's right! Imagine my disappointment when I couldn't find you and had to scratch us out of that race! Top three in each heat go to the finals. Top six score points. There were six in your finals, so you do the math."



"Oh no."



"OH YES! You cost me a point, son! You cost your team a point! Worse than that, because you scratched, that retard from Baker got to take your place and they won the meet by two points over us! You could have WALKED that last race, step over each hurdle at your leisure, and WE would have won! Damn, I'm pissed! What the fuck were you thinking, boy?"



"I-I was hurt, coach. I could barely walk, much less run. And I thought there was no way I had made the finals," Chris offered.



The coach softened somewhat when he saw how down Chris was. "Well, what's done is done, and I still need you for districts. Even if it is for one point. Make this up to your teammates by setting up all their equipment at practice this afternoon. I don't care who helps, I want you to set SOMETHING up for each event."



"Yes sir," Chris said dejectedly on his way out of the classroom.



Christine happened to be walking by and overheard the exchange. By way of his mom talking to her mom, she knew what had happened at the meet on Saturday. At the time, she had thought the visualization of Chris falling back over the hurdle was funny, and she giggled when her mom told her. But this was far from humorous, and she felt sorry for Chris.



"Hey," she said to him when he appeared out into the hallway.



He was taken by surprise that she was there and talking to him. He paused to say "hey" back, then started walking toward his next class.



She tagged along beside him. "So, your coach seemed pretty upset. I'm sorry."



Chris sighed. "You come to gloat?" Instantly he regretted saying that. Shaking his head clear of the mistake, he continued, "Anyway, he has every right to be pissed at me."



Christine chose to let his comment slide. She didn't like seeing him this broken, but it was a far cry from what he was during their fight in drama club just after Thanksgiving. So, she extended an olive branch. "Can I help you with his task? I mean, I'd like to help you set up for practice this afternoon."



"Thanks, but those pole vault and high jump mats are heavy. You wouldn't know where to place the hurdles, or how to mark off the jumpers' starting off points. I do appreciate the thought, though. This is my burden, and I should carry it alone." With that, he gave her a small wave as he disappeared into his classroom.



When school ended, she sought out and talked with his friends. Christine asked that they do what they could to defend Chris from the impending ridicule he was bound to endure at practice from the rest of the team. They agreed, and her plan worked. A few short quips from them and Chris was mercifully spared at practice.



Christine was practicing on her violin just before bed. It was the new activity she picked up this spring in the absence of Chris. She was startled when her phone rang. "Hello?"



"Hi Christine? This is, uh, Chris."



She giggled softly. "I know you by your voice. You don't have to introduce yourself to me."



"Oh. Okay. Well, I was wondering...um...before I start, is this a bad time?" he stammered.



She started putting away her fiddle, as she sensed this might be a long call. Besides, she had been hoping for what she believed was coming since that terrible day. "Bad time?"



"Well, I'm sorry if I interrupted you. Were you busy?"



"Oh. No, I was just practicing. What's on your mind?"



"I was wondering if we could talk. Or maybe I should be doing all the talking."



Christine grinned to herself. It was fifth grade all over again. "If this is truly Chris, I'll be glad to talk to him all night, if needed." She could hear his sigh of relief.



"Yeah, it's me. Look, I'm so sorry for what happened last fall."



"Yeah. What happened there? All I wanted you to do was talk to me."



Loosening up, Chris fell back on his bed. "I didn't know what to say."



"You could have led with that."



"Hmph. I didn't think of that. Anyway, I was in a funk, and I still don't know why..."



That touched off a very lengthy discussion about what happened between them. The apologies and explanations on both sides eventually gave way to each catching the other up on their private lives. Secrets were shared once again. Some dark, others potentially embarrassing, but accepted by the receiver without judgment all the same. Christine was relieved that things were solidly heading back to the way they used to be. She was also glad she had put her phone on the charger when she got back from her lesson. The conversation went so long, that both put down their phones to relieve personal needs. When they picked back up, the chat went on as if there was no interruption.



At about 2a.m., Chris asked, "so is it too early in this reconciliation to ask you to the spring formal?"



Christine's tired face soured. "Oh wow. I'm so sorry Chris."



"Too early. That's ok, I understand..."



"No, you don't. I would go with you, but Ben already asked. I'm sorry."



"So, I take it that you said yes."



"Yeah, he was the first to ask. But I didn't know tonight was coming, and I figured you weren't going to ask, so..."



He stopped her. "No, no, no...that's ok. It's fine. I was an ass, so you went with the next best thing. Wait...who else asked you?"



"Mark, Jerry, Steve..."



"Steve asked you? I'm gonna have to talk to him."



She sighed. "You and I aren't going out, you know?"



"Yeah, but still...I'd have thought he'd ask me before...you know."



"What makes you the keeper of my heart?"



He closed his eyes, too tired to think straight. "I don't know. I kind of think of myself as your brother. Sort of. Kinda in a way. Damn, I should stop talking."



"No, no. Go on." Christine was amused by this revelation.



"Well, I mean, oh how should I say this? I feel like I'm supposed to be protecting you like a brother. But..."



"But what?"



Another huge sigh. "I'd like to think we're...well that we could be more fun than a brother and sister. I don't know. Did that make any sense?"



It was her turn to sigh. "Yeah, in a way. I think I know what you're saying. Any other time of the day, and it could be taken a different way." She paused while coming up with an idea. "Hey, you should ask Sarah!"



"Ask her to be my sister?"



Christine grinned. "Oh man it IS getting late. No, you dope. Ask her to the formal. She doesn't have a date yet. I could see if Ben would agree to double up."



"I don't think that's a good idea." Chris yawned.



She frowned. "Why isn't Sarah a good idea?"



"What were you saying about it being late?" he chuckled. "No, asking Ben to go on a double date. I noticed he's been watching you lately. I'd be careful on that date if I were you."



She dismissed his warning. "So, you'll ask her? She'd be real happy."



"Sure, I'll ask her tomorrow. Well, I better let you go."



"Wait, I'm having fun. Let's keep talking just a little longer."



So they did until both finally drifted off from exhaustion. Their phones were still connected until the batteries finally drained just before their respective alarm clocks sounded off.



Chapter 3



Despite their reconciliation, the Chrisses did not see each other much outside of the classroom setting. She was busy with voice, piano and violin lessons, and he was busy with preparations for the district finals. His efforts paid off, and Chris was much more relaxed when he ran at districts. In fact, instead of the 1 point his coach wanted, he actually placed fifth in the 300 hurdles, gathering an instrumental extra point to help their team win the meet.



He did ask Sarah, and their date went well, however he felt it was missing something. It was more of a partnership in convenience than anything else, but the two did get to upgrade their status with each other from merely acquaintances to friends. They also got a different perspective on their mutual friend Christine. Christine's date went somewhat different. From the time the older Ben picked her up, he kept trying to be smooth and suave. At first, she was flattered that he was making an effort to woo her, but it got old and she caught on to what he was heading for. Especially when he persisted in saying how attractive she was and how they would make a great couple. She tried blowing him off by changing the subject, but he was undeterred. Once, during dinner, she flat out told him she only wanted this to be a friendly date. Nothing more. But he answered by saying that he felt she would change her mind at the end of the night. By the time they got to the dance, she was growing tired of it and started to resent him. While Sarah and Chris went bowling with his parents afterward, Christine begged off and asked Ben to take her home, claiming that dinner didn't agree with her. She made it just inside her bedroom door before slinging her small purse against the far wall in frustration that she didn't call the date off and take Chris up on his offer. Somehow, Chris knew this would happen and she didn't listen.



Summer was upon them in no time. Since they were behaving around each other again, Mrs. Allison called upon her favorite two students to help her song lead a couple of Masses a week. It became a regular thing during the summer for Chris to go to dinner with Christine's family after the Saturday evening Mass, and Christine to go with his family for breakfast after the Sunday morning one. Aside from the weekends, the two did their own things. Chris' parents kept him busy with yard work and a couple of camps, while Christine stayed busy in dance and music, as well as auditioning for and getting accepted by the cheerleading team.



Their schedules did not mesh well the next term. One of Chris' neighbors started as a freshman that year, and the two moms worked out a carpool for Chris. The plan was for him to forgo any after school activities this semester, and he could start driving his grandmother's car the next, since he was turning 16 in January. If James, his neighbor, was still interested in track then, he could have Chris drive him home after practice.



Because of this arrangement, the Chrisses barely saw each other at all. Their nighttime and weekend calls to each other grew less and less frequent. Christine sometimes wondered what forced them apart, but quickly attributed it to both of them being busy. A couple of guys in school did catch her eye, and one even asked her out. But, every time he asked, she had a recital, or practice, or a game. Soon, she got a bit of a reputation as being an ice queen, and guys seemed to stop talking to her altogether. For Chris, it was more of a struggle. Girls rarely talked to him first. Since he wasn't driving yet, he didn't really see any point of striking anything up, since he couldn't bear having his mom or grandmother take him and his date anywhere. He got the reputation of being a loner, and was just as much "hands-off" as Christine was.



Suddenly one night the clockwork text didn't appear on Christine's phone. Ten, twenty, then thirty minutes passed. She checked the charge of the phone, then made sure there were enough bars. Everything seemed fine, and although she told herself it was silly, she started to worry. She laid in bed going over reasons why he wouldn't text her. Most of them involved him being mad at her for various reasons she invented in her head. After chiding herself for getting so worked up over a stupid missed text, she fitfully fell asleep.



The next day she noticed that Chris wasn't at school. In homeroom, she checked her cell, and to her relief she saw the g'nite. It was odd that her phone received the message at 3 this morning, but reasoned that maybe Chris was sick. It would explain his absence today. Her guess comforted her mind for the most part, but she found that her thoughts always returned to Chris. It was the most she had thought of him in quite some while. The busy day finally ended, and as she finished up her homework on her bed, she tapped her pencil impatiently waiting for 11:30 to come.



11:30 came, and went by without the familiar phone chirp of his message. Christine found herself feeling like an addict going through withdrawal. Never once had she replied to the texts, nor did she ever before give them much thought. But, habit is habit she thought to herself as she got ready for bed. Perhaps the rain that night was fitting, as it mirrored her mood. Pepper must have sensed her anxiety, because she refused to leave the room. Christine decided the company was nice and told her dog good night.



She woke to a soft growl from Pepper and saw her looking intently at the window. There was a figure there, but before she could scream she heard a low "quiet Pepper!" from outside. Then there were two soft taps followed by "Christine, you awake?"



She peeked around her curtain to see Chris on the porch. "It's ok, Pepper," Christine said quietly. Pepper wagged her tail as if knowing her long absent friend was just about to come in. Christine unlocked her window, took out the screen and let Chris inside. "Where've you been?" she whispered harshly. As soon as it came out, she wanted to take it back. Chris looked terrible. He was drenched from head to toe, his shoes and lower jeans muddy. There was no light in his eyes, and she knew something was terribly wrong. "Are you ok?" she asked so quiet, she wondered if she even said it aloud.



He touched Pepper's head and wiped the rain from his eyes. "Uh, no, actually. I'm sorry for waking you, but I just had to talk to someone."



Christine grabbed the towel she used earlier for her shower and wrapped it over his shoulders. "What's going on, Chris?"



"Grandma had a stroke." It was all he managed to say for a long while. Bringing it out loud made it real to him and it broke his heart. Chris couldn't help but weep.



Christine wrapped him in a tight hug, not caring how the rain he carried in transferred from his clothes to hers. She loved his grandmother, too. She was never anything but nice to everyone she knew. But, to see Chris in pieces like this demolished any hope of staving off her own tears. They held each other tight, sobbing in the other's shoulder, while Pepper busily did her best to dry Chris' hands with her tongue.



Christine composed herself enough to say, "I guess it's too much hope to ask if she's okay?"



Still embraced, Chris answered, "she's stable for now. But she was there on the floor for an awfully long time before help came. The damage looks to be permanent."



"Oh God. I'm so sorry."



"The part that really sucks is that I think it's all my fault."



She backed her head away. "What makes you say that? I thought strokes were sudden and unpredictable."



He let out a huge sigh and looked down at where his lap would have been, oblivious that he was looking instead at her panties peeking out from under her nightie. "They are. But, it seems that she had it just before I got home."



"So?" That was said in a more comforting tone than accusatory.



He realized that his clothes were making her covers wet, so he released her from his grasp and sat down on her floor where she followed. "Well, when James' mom dropped me off, the storm door was still locked and the garage door closed. I have a key to the front door, but not the storm door. I looked in the windows, but I didn't see her. I could see her car in the garage, so I figured one of the neighbors picked her up for lunch or shopping and they were just late. So, I went to James' house and played video games. When I went to meet Mom at home, there was an ambulance out front." He sobbed and breathed, "I should have broken that stupid storm door. I could have gotten help quicker and she might have made a recovery. But NOO, there she was, all alone helpless on the floor while I was playing games."



Christine took him in her arms again. "Oh sweetie, you couldn't have known. I mean, she and your parents had you so scared of breaking anything that you walk around my house with your hands tucked behind your back. Who's to say it would have made a difference anyway?"



"I do, Christine! I just can't believe this happened!"



They thought they were being quiet, but Christine's dad opened her door. "What the hell?!"



She gave Chris a wait a second sign with her finger, got up and took her dad in the hallway. She came back in after a short bit. "You can stay the night if you want. But you have to sleep on the floor and Pepper has to stay in the room, too."



Chris realized what happened. "Oh, I'm sorry. That wasn't my intention, at all. I just had to see you. I'm sorry to have disturbed your family."



"No, it's okay," said her dad from behind him. He came in and handed Chris some clothes. "These are some of Tom's. You'll be more comfortable once you get dry. Where was your grandma admitted?"



"Thanks, Doctor. She's at Sacred Heart."



"Well, that's where I work. I'll do some things to make sure her stay is comfortable. Anything else we can do, just let us know."



"Thanks, Doctor," Chris said again. "I'm sorry I woke you."



"Not at all. Get some rest. I'm sure you were up pretty late the last couple of nights." With that, he closed his daughter's door.



Christine was busily putting on shorts, obviously an instruction from her father. "Should I text your mom to let her know where you are?"



Chris shook his head to clear it from the whirlwind of events happening. "Um, no. Dad dropped me off at home and went back to the hospital. They weren't coming home tonight. I'm supposed to get a ride with James tomorrow morning."



"Well, then you can call him first thing and let him know you've got another ride. But for now, you can use my shower. That is, if you don't mind smelling like roses," she giggled.



He reluctantly, but gratefully, got up and headed through her bathroom door. "I wouldn't mind it at all. It's one of my favorite things about you."



She smiled to herself as he disappeared. She couldn't decide whether he meant it as a joke about himself, or a compliment to her. Either way, the thought was nice.



Early on in the family trauma, Chris was extremely busy entertaining some form of company. With his parents at the hospital nearly any time they weren't at work, he was tasked with keeping the house clean, meals prepared, and otherwise playing host to family members from out of town. Even though neither parent was a doctor, as Christine's dad was, his family had a sizable house that was purchased by his grandmother after she sold her farm. Though much more modestly appropriated than Christine's. Without his mom helping, just vacuuming the house was an enormous task. He mentioned this to Christine in passing at lunch one day. She surprised him late that afternoon by ringing his doorbell. He started to say that he'd like to visit with her and show her the house as she'd never been inside, but he had to finish cleaning before his great-uncle and aunt got back. She laughed and told him that was why she was there. She offered to cook dinner while he finished cleaning. He asked that she stay and enjoy what she made. Christine accepted and his great-uncle and aunt fell in love with her. Chris had to keep reminding his grandmother's sister that he and Christine were only friends, but she kept saying that she was sure they would have beautiful children together. Christine just happily played along, enamored with the eccentric couple.

<hr pg="4" />Christine made an arrangement to help Chris twice a week, something he thought he would have to owe her the rest of his life for. But, by the time his grandmother was moved to a nursing facility a month later, the disposable resources for the extended family were running out. There were no more visitors coming, so every afternoon, Chris' mom picked him up from school and supervised his driving out to see his grandmother. One Friday Christine asked if she could go along. When they got to the room, the nurses were busily preparing his grandmother for transport to the hospital. They followed the ambulance and the Chrisses stayed in the waiting room while his mom visited with the doctors. His uncle and aunt who lived in town showed up shortly after. His aunt gave Chris a look of blame that made Christine instantly hate her.



A couple of episodes of Andy Griffith on the small waiting room TV later, his mom appeared in the hallway and motioned for them to follow her. Silently they got up and made their way to his grandmother's room. The doctor was there and briefed them that Grandma was stable for now. However, her organs were shutting down and that there was little hope that she would survive the next two days. In fact, including what he called the "God Factor," he gave her a 1% chance to see morning. The doctor left the room and before anything was said, Chris looked at all the tubes running into his grandmother, grabbed her chart and started writing. Christine wanted desperately to say something nice and comforting, but she couldn't come up with it. Besides, when she opened her mouth, a look from the aunt stole the words from it. 



Chris finished writing, grabbed Christine's hand and told his mom they were going to the library. Christine was confused. Not only by him saying they were going to the library, but that his mom didn't seem to catch it. Or if she did, she didn't protest at all. She mentioned this to Chris in the elevator, and he told her that they were going to the medical library in the basement. Now obvious to her that he'd done this before, she understood why his mom didn't object. She saw a look of determination on his face that was new to her. The elevator doors opened to a large, brightly lit room containing wall to wall racks of books. Chris strode to a bank of computers and Christine watched him put in some commands that yielded a couple of bars of texts. He showed her the sheet he had written on and told her that those were the medicines his grandmother was being given. Christine asked how she could help and he answered if she could find the last eight for him. They separated for a while and when she found him, he had a stack of books on the table. She asked if he needed her to find any others. He said no, that he already found the first 12. So, he's done this more than once, she thought to herself. Chris told her that he was looking for what each drug treats and its side-effects. She grabbed a sheet of paper and a pencil from the center of the table and started opening books. About an hour later, she gave him her research and he put it together with his. After reading over everything, he stacked the books and carried them to a put-back shelf near the door with Christine in tow.



Back in the room, he told his mom and uncle what he found out, and asked what they thought. His uncle called for the doctor and he arrived in short order. His uncle told Chris to "go ahead," resulting in a not-so-tiny look of contempt from his aunt. His aunt obviously wanted to have been able to come up with this solution, or failing that, at least let her husband take credit for it. Chris nonetheless told the doctor his reasoning about the meds, and since they all seem to be treating each other's side-effects, what would happen if she were taken off everything? The doctor thought about it for a minute and decided that if the family wished, it was worth a shot. She was deteriorating rapidly anyway, so what was the harm. A couple of hours after the nurses unhooked the IV's, his grandmother's vitals seemed to stop their downward spiral. Chris convinced his mom to go home, as well as his uncle and aunt, and he would stay with her. Christine asked to stay with Chris, and all was agreed. But not without his aunt shooting off an "If anything changes you call us immediately."



"Right after I call Mom," was his only reply.



It took a few minutes for Christine's own blood pressure to settle back into the black from that remark. When all had left, she excused herself to the restroom and when she returned, settled next to Chris on the slate-turned-loveseat in the room. They made quiet small talk for a bit while half-watching the infomercials on the TV. The last comfortable position she remembered before dozing off was laying on the loveseat with her feet tucked behind her and her head using his thigh as a pillow.



She was startled awake by a voice in the room that was not Chris's nor one of the nurses. She opened her eyes and asked "What?" to no one in paticular.



A raspy female voice slurred, "I said, I would have liked to have seen your wedding."



Christine made to move her head to greet the voice, but Chris' arm held her shoulders down. She contently relaxed her face on his thigh. "Glad you're awake, Mrs...I'm sorry I forgot your last name."



"Christine, I told you a number of times already. Call me Grandma."



"Okay, Grandma." To her, it now actually seemed right at this point to call her that. "Whose wedding would you have liked to have seen?"



"Yours and Chris's, of course."



Christine blushed, but Chris was awake now and answered for her. "Grandma, this is Christine, my friend. You know her, right?"



The elder lady smiled with the good half of her face. "Of course. I know her. Sweet girl to put up with the likes of you, I must say. I know that you regard her as only a friend, but listen to me...you two WILL get married. You might not think so now or even tomorrow, but some day you will, and I wish I could be there to see it."



Christine wondered if she understood the slurred mumble as it was intended, but the red glow on Chris's cheeks confirmed it. Deciding to change the subject, she asked, "How are you feeling, Grandma?"



"Oh better than before. Not as hazy now."



"Chris had them take you off the drugs, so you should be thinking a little more clearly."



"He did that? I knew you were a smart boy. Now come here and give me a hug."



They disentangled themselves from each other and took turns to give her a hug and kiss. Christine reminded Chris that he should call his mom about the change.



"Yeah, and Aunt P."



Christine got a devious look. "Oh, please could I? I so want to tell her you told her so!" Secretly, she really did want to, but the ailing grandmother intervened.



"Now, now, you don't have to get nasty, dear. Even if she is a crusty old hag."



Laughing, Chris left the room to make the calls and Christine stayed behind to give Grandma some water and brushed her hair. When Chris returned, his grandmother begged them to get breakfast downstairs. They reluctantly agreed and told her they'd be back up soon. On the way to the elevator, Chris stopped by the nurses' desk and told them to check in on his grandmother and freshen her up while they were gone. Once the elevator doors closed, Christine beamed at him.



"What?" Chris asked.



"That was so freakin' cool!"



"What was?"



"How the doctor refused to give her a chance, and there she is this morning. Awake and smiling! And, YOU did that!"



Chris grimaced. "Well, she's not out of the woods yet."



She frowned at him. "What do you mean? You saw her the same as me. She even tried to brush her hair before I helped."



He sighed. "I've heard that critically ill patients sometimes get a 'last wind' just before everything crashes down on them. I really do hope that's not the case here. But, I'll feel much better once they release her." She thought about this as the doors opened and they made their way to the cafeteria.



Chris' fear turned out to be unfounded, and she was to be released back to the nursing home three days later. Christine spent that entire weekend with him. Her parents picked the two up that Saturday evening for a home-cooked meal and he was offered her floor to sleep again. Chris happily accepted the pink sleeping bag again, as he did not want to sleep in his empty house. Her parents fed them breakfast the next morning and took the two back to the hospital to visit his grandmother before the school week started again. Christine noticed that the room seemed somewhat brighter with the new recovery, save two glaring exceptions that seemed apparent to only her. It irked her to no end that no one seemed to give Chris the time of day, let alone give him credit for the idea on how to save his grandmother that night. It pissed her off even more that his aunt sat in the corner staring at him with a look that crossed contempt with jealousy. Even so, she was a good girl and kept quiet about her observations, even to Chris. 



She noticed that Chris was also displeased with his aunt by marriage. He felt as if he cringed slightly whenever she spoke. At one point, his grandmother seemed to wonder how many recoveries like this she had in her. So, with everyone present, she started mumbling about the nice things she was leaving them. Chris's aunt hushed her, saying she was still with them and not to talk like that. Upon hearing his aunt talk down to his grandmother that way, he walked out of the room.



Christine followed him. "Hey, what's wrong?"



He turned and she could almost literally see fire in his eyes. "HER! Grandma just wants to say her peace, and she's talking talking to Grandma as if she's five years old!"



"So why don't you say something?"



"Oh yeah, and start a family fight right there in the hospital room? No thanks. I'm just getting some air to cool off."



"Can I come with you?" Christine asked.



He responded with a wave of his hand, and she matched pace with him. They didn't say anything to each other. They just walked the halls.



A week later, Christine went with Chris and his mom again to visit his grandmother. This time, all was well, and his grandmother was watching TV. While his mom left the room to take care of some paperwork, his grandmother asked how their Homecoming went. Chris told her that it wasn't until the following week. Asked where they were going to dinner, he said that he wasn't going, so that he could visit her. She thought that was complete nonsense and insisted that he go. He looked at Christine, but she lowered her head and sheepishly said that she was already going with someone else. His grandmother got quite upset and insisted that Christine call it off and go with Chris instead. Christine started crying and left the room. Chris scolded his grandmother for making his friend upset, then left to find Christine. He found her in the solarium, sitting on a bench and sobbing into her hands. He sat next to her and tried to comfort her, saying that his grandmother still didn't have all her faculties. She responded that she knew, but the chiding still hurt and she didn't know why. They both returned to the room a few minutes later and his grandmother apologized to Christine for making her upset. Christine gave her a hug and told her it was sweet that she tried to look out for her grandson. His mother returned, they said their goodbyes and Chris drove them home.



He asked his next door neighbor who was a freshman at another school to Homecoming. She accepted with glee and they had fun. But, Chris's mind was weighed down by things at home, and the hit-it-off factor just wasn't there. Christine's date went likewise, and no thought entered her head of taking things further with her partner than a hug goodnight. That night, Chris tapped on her window as she pulled out her 100th bobby pin. He flopped back on her bed while she readied herself for slumber out of his view in the bathroom. They compared scores of the evening while she was busy, and when she appeared, they both agreed that something was missing at these dances. Neither could put their finger on what that was. He rolled toward her and pecked her cheek goodnight. The effort was rewarded with a light slap across the face.



"Ah, Ah...Never without my permission," she admonished.



He was more than taken aback, stumbling out an apologetic "I'm sorry. It just felt like the natural thing to do."



She smiled at him to soften the blow. "I'm sure. Even so, never without my permission."



The long day clouded his judgment somewhat, so he grinned mischievously and asked, "so can I kiss you good night?"



She grinned back. "It's late. Good night Chris."



"Good night," he said as he crawled out her window and slid it closed behind him.Chapter 4



Christmas break arrived, and so did some of Chris' extended family. His grandmother was in the hospital again, but was improving. Since he knew someone would be keeping his grandmother company for the day, he took some time off and walked over to Christine's house. Even though it was early afternoon, he tapped on her window out of habit then opened it and crawled in. He found Christine grinning, and to his surprise, Sarah was also there. Sarah looked at Christine in shock. Christine put the troubled mind at ease, saying that her family gave him the okay to come and go as he pleases.



"So, tell me, does he come or go more?" Sarah asked with a wink.



Christine answered by throwing a pillow at Sarah's head. "You're the one who went with him to the spring formal last year. You tell me."



"Well, in that case, I guess the answer is that he goes more."



Chris took a seat on the floor in front of the two girls. "Hey now, we went as friends."



Sarah patted his knee. "I know, dear, and you were sweet."



"If I had known you were thinking of more, I might have obliged," he offered sheepishly.



"No, you wouldn't. And, I wasn't," Sarah smiled at him.



"Gee, thanks."



Christine felt an uneasy pang in her gut while watching the banter, but kept it to herself. They ended up passing the afternoon playing board games and making light conversation. They were interrupted at one point when Christine's cell phone rang. While she was listening to the caller, she looked at Chris curiously. She agreed to whatever was being asked and hung up.



"Who was that?" Chris asked.



"Mrs. Allison. She wanted me to ask you to do the Children's Christmas Mass with me."



He cocked his head in confusion. "I thought they only wanted up to eighth graders to perform for that one."



She nodded. "They do. But Mrs. Allison had a death in the family, so she wants us to DO the Mass ourselves."



"So how will that work?" asked Sarah.



"Well, she thought that Chris could conduct the choir, while I played the organ. There's a practice tomorrow afternoon, one next Wednesday, and then the Mass that Saturday night."



Chris blew out his breath. "Oh wow."



Christine pleaded with him. "Oh please tell me that you'll do it. I don't think I could do that by myself, and I already told Mrs. Allison that we would."



Chris agreed, and when their teacher arrived to hand over the music and notes, the three students gave her a hug and their condolences. Sarah felt that she would be a third wheel and left when the other two started familiarizing themselves with this year's program.



The practice the next afternoon was a marathon. The oldest kids were scheduled to arrive first to practice solos, since they would have the most patience of waiting around. Chris played the large electronic organ while Christine coached the female soloists. They swapped while Chris gave pointers to the two males in their performance. Once the full choir arrived, Christine had doubts about their responsibility for 40 young children for two hours. The jabbering mess on the risers hushed to stone silence when Chris spoke.



"Attention! I'd like to remind you all that although it is dark beyond this balcony rail, you are all still inside a church. This place deserves you all respecting that, don't you think?" He said sternly.



Based on what he remembered from the solo practices, he moved some groups of children around, making it easier to manage their strengths.



Once all was in place, he said, "everyone look around you. This is where I want you to be for the next practice and the Mass. Okay?" 



A chorus of "yes sir!" replied.



He smiled. "Okay, let's have some fun! Open up to the first song in the program and let's get started."



He raised his hand for attention, then rhythmically waved it in a pattern of four beats to tell Christine what tempo he wanted. As the practice wore on, she was amazed by his natural leadership. Chris commanded their complete attention. When he stopped to correct the way something was done wrong, he did it in a way that got his point across without embarrassing the target child or group. The choir sounded good at the start, obviously a direct result of Mrs. Allison's hard work. But, by the end of practice everything seemed a bit tighter. In fact, some of the parents had shown up early to pick up their child, and applauded as they finished their last song.



After ensuring the children went to the correct parents, Chris and Christine tidied up the choir loft. Chris stayed with her to listen to her practice her violin solo. She packed up and they walked to her house together. Chris declined her invitation to stay for dinner, saying that he had to make dinner for house company. She told him to wait for a second while she put up her violin, then they both hopped her fence and walked through the trail to his house. Together they entertained his uncle and aunt from out of town by playing cards with them and sharing funny stories and an enjoyable time was had by all.



The day of the Mass arrived, and they showed up two hours early, feeling good about how things would go. The second practice went even smoother than the first. Quickly, they worked together to get programs in place and the microphones and organ set up. This was the most popular Mass of the year, and it showed when people started filing in only a half hour later. The pews were half filled when the choir was in place, so Christine decided that they should start things off just a bit earlier than planned. She grabbed her fiddle and approached the microphone. 



Before switching it on, she asked Chris, "would you mind accompanying me?"



"Not at all," he answered with a grin and stood close to her. The children got his little joke and giggled quietly.



Christine smirked and nudged him gently. "No, you dork. The organ?"



"Oh, right," he answered playfully, to the glee of the choir.



He sat down on the bench and fed some "software" into the organ's slot in the form of old punch cards. Once he had the macro buttons programmed, he nodded at Christine. She bobbed her bow up and down, and Chris played "O Holy Night" to her tempo. Christine started "singing" with her violin. Most of who were there craned their necks to look for what they thought was a new organ. No one at the parish had ever heard it sound that way before. During some down time at the second practice, Chris found the old punch cards, and figured out how to program the organ. For this piece, he chose bells on the upper keyboard and mixed it with a string orchestra sound mapped to the lower keyboard. Combined with Christine's violin, the carol movingly beautiful. The song closed out to a solid ovation.



Christine bowed from the loft rail and turned to Chris and said, "I think now's as good a time as any to start."



He nodded, reset the organ, and slid off the bench to take his place at the microphone. "Good evening! Welcome to the Christmas Vigil Children's Mass. I've been asked by the ushers to remind everyone that this will be a crowded Mass. Please help us get as many seated as possible by moving as close to the center of the pews as possible. Thank you. While we wait for Mass to begin, select members of the Children's Choir will perform their favorite carols."

<hr pg="5" />The solos flowed smoothly, led off by the older kids, and making their way down to two adorable second graders. The timing couldn't have been more perfect. As soon as the last solo finished, an altar server appeared in the aisle below to nod at Chris. He flipped into the song leader mode and rewelcomed everyone to the Mass. Everything went off without a hitch. Even Santa stopped in after Communion to kneel before the baby Jesus figurine at the manger scene near the altar.



Before the closing prayer, the pastor took some time to say some words. "Thank you all for coming to this Mass. Now, if they hadn't sung any of the songs, would any of you have known that there was a live CHILDREN'S choir upstairs? Let's give them a hand for the beautiful music and for being so well behaved!" The congregation stood and faced the choir loft, offering a solid minute of applause. He continued when the clapping died down. "Their performance tonight is owed in no small part to two former choir members thrust into the role of choir directors just two weeks ago, due to a death in Allison's family. I'd like to thank Chris and Christine for filling in and doing a marvelous job."



They bowed to the hearty applause. "Would you believe the two of them are only sophomores in high school? Chris, stay after a bit. I'd like to find out who authorized you to buy a new organ." The congregation laughed at the joke, and Chris grinned sheepishly.



The closing prayers were said, and the choir closed out the Mass with "Joy to the World." The congregation all stayed to cheer the choir once more. Chris grinned, turned to the kids and mouthed the name of the next tune. The choir answered the cheers with a sprightly sung "We Wish You A Merry Christmas" without Christine playing the organ. The congregation laughed and applauded one last time.



A week before track started, Chris was given full use of his grandmother's car for his birthday. On days that Christine didn't have a lesson of some sort, she waited in the cafeteria for him to finish practice, so he could drive them both to see his grandmother. After their collaboration for Christmas, and Christine's desire to keep Chris company while he visited his grandmother, the two were nearly inseparable. Around school, the pair collectively became known as, and responded to, the name CC. Chris forwent asking Christine to the spring formal this year, thinking that if she wanted to go with him, she would ask. She didn't, and went with another friend, and so Chris followed suit.



The joys of summer vacation were short lived, as his grandmother fell ill and went to the hospital again. When asked by his mom if he was coming, he declined, saying that she wasn't Grandma anymore. His family didn't understand why he said this, but Christine did.



A week before, the grandmother had told Chris, "you know, I'm leaving you and the family a lot of nice things. The house, the cars, everything inside."



Chris's answer was, "I know. Thank you for all that you have done for me and our family. But most of all, we will treasure you and your love forever."



She didn't reply to that. But, Christine noticed that her face relaxed with a smile. She had said what she wanted to say, and got a thank you in return. Christine knew that Chris had suspected for a long time that that was all she really wanted. 



Of all the visits Grandma had during her time after the stroke, Chris's presence outnumbered everyone else combined by 4 to 1. Christine thought it was a shame that it seemed that even her twice weekly visits with Chris very nearly gave her the second most time. So, judging by her recent visits alongside Chris, Christine noticed that something was missing from the lady she respected and admired. To her and Chris, it was almost as if Grandma's soul had already departed.



A couple of days later, Chris was in his living room playing video games when the doctor called to discuss the recent round of tests with his mom. She was stopped in the middle of one of her sentences and hung up after a pause. The doctor told her he was paged and that she might want to get to the hospital. She looked at Chris and asked if he wanted to stay home. He decided to go with his parents this time. He purposely kept himself out of the loop on her condition for the past week. He didn't see any point in staying involved. So, he had no idea what was said on the phone, but his dad didn't seem to be in a hurry when driving. To this day, Chris still didn't know why, but he looked up to the sky while in the car and said goodbye to his grandmother.



They went into the hospital and met his local uncle and aunt in the waiting room outside the ICU. The doctor led them into a conference room, so Chris hung back to let them have their meeting. But, the doctor specifically waved him inside as well. The door was closed and the doctor related what they had found in the tests. Acute Leukemia, collapsed lung, liver failure, blah blah. He finally got to the part Chris had by now expected, based on him being expressly ushered in on this meeting. It was related how her vitals started declining rapidly when he told Chris' mom to come it, then respiratory failure. The doctor went through their chemical efforts to revive her. And finally, he said that they respected her wishes for no "heroic" means. On that order, they did not use CPR nor paddles. Alas, the grandmother had passed away while the family was on their way over. Chris heard the time of death and chills went through his spine. That was the exact time on his watch when he said goodbye in the car. After dozens of phone calls to relatives, they were allowed to see their matriarch. His aunt, the one Christine hated, commented over and over how peaceful she looked. But, the thing that really struck Chris was how cold her forehead was that he kissed hundreds of times before. Eventually, they all left, utterly drained by the experience.



When Chris and his parents got home, he told his mom that he was going over to Christine's. That announcement sparked a tiff.



"I'd rather you stay home tonight," his mom said.



"Well, I'd rather not. I want to tell her in person."



"You can tomorrow, after we go to the funeral home to make the arrangements. I think it would be best if you stayed home."



He scoffed, "for whom? You? What are you wanting to happen tonight? We sit around and share stories about her? I already said goodbye to her! You seem to forget who drove his ass 45 miles each way every day after school or practice the last 8 months to see her. I can count on one hand the number of days I didn't see her since the stroke. Can you?" With that, he walked out the door. He chided himself for being that harsh, but it was out of the box now and he couldn't put it back.



Christine was reading, and the fact that the familiar text message was missing did not escape her. Sure enough, at about midnight there was the double tap at her window. She knew by the look on Chris's face why he was there.



"Oh no. Chris, is she?"



"Yeah, I'm afraid she's gone," he answered quietly.



She held him on the bed while he related what had transpired in the last few hours. She shed some tears, but was surprised that he didn't. What did surprise her was his story about what happened with his mom before he came over. She was not pleased with the way he handled that situation, but it was his family so she left it alone. Exhausted, Chris laid down on her bed, intending to rest his eyes for just a bit, but soon he fell asleep. Pepper scratched at her door, so she let her in and allowed the dog to sleep between her and Chris.



The discovery that Chris spent the night in Christine's bed raised a few eyebrows in both households. But, given the circumstances, and the insistence of both that Pepper was between them, the non-event was taken for what it truly was. She didn't see him much the next few days, as he was kept busy with funeral preparations. His mom asked her and Mrs. Allison to do the music for the memorial, so that was really the next time she saw Chris. The service was beautiful, and the reception afterward was kept light. Christine did not get to see Chris off to his grandmother's hometown, as she started cheerleading camp the day he left. She did get to wish him a safe trip the night before, but it made for a long three days at camp.



The evening camp was over, Chris texted her that they were coming home the next day. She asked when they were leaving, telling him that she wanted to offer a silent prayer then for his safety. He told her 11, and that they should be home that evening. She surprised him and his parents at the airport to welcome them back.



After a tight hug, Chris asked, "you didn't wait here all day, did you C?"



She giggled that the school's nickname for them was wearing off on him. "No, C, I just got here." She then turned to give his mom and dad a hug each.



"So...how did you know when to come?" Chris asked as they rode the escalator to baggage claim.



"I have my sources," she quipped with a wink. When they all looked at her she continued, "you said you were leaving Toledo at 11, so I went online and used Delta's reservation system as if I were looking for a ticket. This was the arrival time."



"You're a clever girl, Christine," his mom replied dryly.



"Thanks!" she chipped happily, knowing that saying it in that manner was an equal dig.



They picked out their luggage, and Christine pulled Chris' single carry-on so he could carry his mom's two suitcases.



The bags were loaded in Chris' family car and Christine said to him in invitation, "my car's this way."



He looked at his mom, and she just rolled her eyes and giving up said, "go ahead."



He gave her a peck on the cheek and strode off with Christine. "When did you get a car?" he asked her.



She handed him the keys. "I didn't. It's Tom's."



He was confused. "I thought he was back in town for the summer? And, when did you start driving?"



She allowed him to open the passenger door for her, and when he slid into the driver's seat, she answered, "he is. That's how the car is here. He let me borrow it to pick you up. And, I started driving about the same time as you. I just don't like to."



Nodding, he backed out and headed for the toll gate. "So, I'm taking you back home?"



"Eventually! I thought we'd go and have dinner, then see a movie to get things off your mind for a bit."



"What did you have in mind?" he asked after handing the collector $10. He thought to himself that the airport should look much nicer at that rate.



"What are you hungry for?"



"Actually, I'm starving for a cheeseburger," he said sheepishly.



"McDonald's it is!"



While they enjoyed their meal off the paper wrappers, Chris related his experience up north. The interesting thing to him was that the tradition up there was a two-day wake. His family really did not want to go through all that, so as a compromise, it was arranged to have visitation starting at 9, a 3 hour lunch break at 1, then the wake and prayer service until 10 that night. He mixed in funny stories about his cousins and great-uncles and aunts. Christine's favorite was about how one of his cousins had a young son. She would give him blue Kool-aid in a baby bottle and tell him "here's your Windex." At the funeral home, Chris happened to walk into the break room and found her son holding a bottle of real Windex, trying to open it. When Carrie heard about it, she told him, "no more Windex for you!"



They moved onto the movie and enjoyed it along with sharing a bag of popcorn. When he returned the car and Christine to her house, he gave her a long hug.



"Thanks C!"



"For what? You paid for everything."



He squeezed a little tighter. "For knowing me and just what I needed."



She smiled and they said goodnight. Ten minutes later, her cell phone chirped his G'Nite message. "Dork," she said to the phone, although she smiled while doing so.



Chapter 5



Chris did apologize to his mom about a week later for the blowup he had on the night his grandmother passed away. She took it graciously, but asked him to sit down at the kitchen table.



"So, are you sleeping with her?" she started the conversation bluntly.



Chris blubbered for a second, stunned by the question. "Wait, what? Sleeping with who?"



"So you are sleeping with someone," she stated more than asked in an accusatory tone that wasn't lost on Chris.



"NO! Who am I supposed to be sleeping with?"



"C..." his mom corrected herself, mentally slapping herself for getting caught up with the now-popular nickname. "I mean Christine. You're spending an awful lot of time with her lately."



Chris was beside himself that he was being accused of this. But he figured she really wanted to talk about this, and it was not going to go away. "MOM! We're friends. That's it. Nothing happened that night I stayed there. I laid back on her bed, wanting to close my eyes for a second, and I drifted off. I don't know when she let Pepper in the room, but she was between us the whole time I was conscious on that bed. I thought I explained that all before." This was greatly tempered from what he really wanted to say.



"You did explain that, but what about any other time?"



He shook his head. "NO Mom! Like I said, we're friends. Good friends. To this point, nothing physical has happened between us."



She looked at him sternly. "What about with the other girls you took to dances?"



"Um, hello! Except this spring's formal, you were there the entire time I was with them outside of the dance itself. This last dance went like the others, except I drove myself. Why are you suddenly questioning me like this?"



"Well, there comes a time in a fellow's life when he starts to get interested in girls and thinking about having sex with them..."



Chris broke her sentence off. "Really? We're having this talk now? Shouldn't I have gotten it in like 8th grade?"



"I don't know, should you?"



"Come on, Mom! Don't you trust me at all?"



"I do, sweetheart. It's just that there's lots of diseases out there, and if a pregnancy happens, that is a big responsibility."



He couldn't believe this. "Wait. Stop, stop, stop. Can you stop your script for a minute and tell me what has brought all this on?"



She sat back in her chair with a sigh. Maybe she should have had this chat when he was nine. Would have gone much easier. "Alright, look Chris. When C's (eh, screw it, she thought) name comes up, your whole attitude changes. Most of the time, your face brightens up. But, if there's any hint of resistance to your being able to see her or talk to her, you get so defensive and fixated about escaping to her. You care for her, I can see that. EVERYBODY can. You probably love her, and I can get that. Don't smirk at me. I think you do love her, and just won't admit it to yourself. So, am I not allowed to at least make you aware that there are consequences should things 'level up'? Yeah, I think that's how you would put it in your gaming speak..." He paused to think, and she knew then that she had gotten through to him.



Finally, Chris sighed. "I see your point. Of course you're allowed. I just wish you wouldn't put things in a way that seems to try to get me to admit something. It's never worked, because I haven't ever done anything very wrong as I can tell."



"I know that."



"So, why can't you trust me?"



"We do. That's why I'm having this chat with you." He started to object, but this time his mom kept going. "Just a minute. This talk has two parts. If you let me finish what I need to say in the first part, I believe you'll like the second part. Agreed?"



"Very well."



"Good. So, if you ever find yourself in a situation where things are moving along toward a sexual state, promise me you'll use your head first and protect yourself. Emotionally and physically."



"Scout's Honor, Mom."



"Good, 'cause things can get hairy really quick."



"Or not, depending on shaving preference."



She couldn't help but laugh. "Stop it, I'm trying to be serious. And, you gotta stop listening to your wild friends."



"Yes, ma'am."



"Okay, also I need you to promise me to always be truthful. If I ask, I want a straight answer. Before you object, here's my side of the bargain. If you keep being honest with me, I won't judge you for whatever we're discussing at the time. If you're willing to hear it, you might also get some experienced advice. Agreed?"



"Yes, Mom. Agreed."



"Glad to hear it. Here's the second part of this talk." She handed him both sets of keys to his grandmother's car along with a gas card. "She would have wanted you to have it. We'll pay for your gas, as long as the amounts are reasonable. If you start driving to the ends of the earth and the bills get obscene, we'll cut it off, and you'll have to start paying for your own insurance and gas. Is this fair?"



Chris was so happy he could only manage, "yes ma'am!"



"Good. Along with the car comes responsibility. You've shown us the past year a huge amount of it when you visited Grandma every day without being asked. We just ask that you continue using sound judgment. That said, you are free to do as you wish. No curfews, no asking for permission to go anywhere. You may just go, with one stipulation. Except for school or church functions, leave a note on the message board about where you are going. That's so we have a starting point on where to find you if there's an emergency. If you're going to be late, or miss dinner, send me a text so I can plan accordingly. Will this work for you?"



His eyes twinkled as he responded. "Yes, absolutely! Thank you so much Mom!"



She smiled back. "You're welcome. Don't let it go to your head. We gave it, and if necessary, we can and will take it away. Now, about Christine. I've spoken with her parents to make sure you weren't causing any disruption to their family. Apparently, you've gained a large amount of their trust as well. They want you to know that if you want to, they'll allow occasional, OCCASIONAL, mind you, sleepovers in her room. You've also graduated to be allowed to sleep in her bed, if she is willing, provided Pepper is in the room also. The dog doesn't have to sleep on the bed, but she does have to be in the room. Mishandling this situation WILL result in a deal breaker. Both with her parents and with us. If you two do something regretful, or make their household uncomfortable, EVERYTHING we are talking about gets taken away for both of you. There will be no car, no house leave privileges, no cell phones, no contact of any kind with each other. Is this clear enough, or should I spell it out explicitly?" 



He didn't see how things would get to that point anyway, but agreed all the same.



"Very good. Remember, if grades start slipping, or attitude changes get unbearable for us, it will cost you some freedom until you can earn it back."



"I understand. Can you tell me something, Mom?"



"Sure."



"What would have been the explicit version?"



"Just keep your hands to yourself and your pants zippered up, okay?"



He stepped around the table to give his mom a giant hug. "So, no more hiding the salami, huh?" He quipped to give a goodhearted jab.



She returned the hug and slapped his arm, smiling. "Go on over there, I know you're dying to tell her."



Chris thanked her again, then went out the door to practically skip to Christine's house. On the trail near her back yard, he received a text message.



"Come over, need to talk, good news. C."



He hopped the fence and responded to the text by tapping on her window. He could have just walked into the house, and her family wouldn't have thought anything of it, but her window was almost like his private entrance. They exchanged hellos, and apparently she had just received the same talk, almost verbatim, minus the car part. Although her parents had the means and would have been happy to buy her a car, she would have thought of driving as a chore instead of a reward for good behavior, so it was pointless to even approach that subject. The two compared notes of the conversations they just had, and laughed between themselves about how both sets of parents thought maybe they were sleeping together.

<hr pg="6" />Continuing her laughter, Christine got carried away and said, "that's the furthest from my mind when I think of you!"



He started to say, "yeah, you too..." Then he sobered up a bit. "Hey, wait! Am I that much of a ogre?"



"Oh, I'm sorry...I didn't mean it like that. I guess the thought never dawned on me. Besides, what do you mean 'you too?' Am I a toad?"



"Most certainly not. Yours is one of the prettiest faces I've ever seen." He meant it, and she could tell by the look on his face that he wasn't close to kidding. "I don't know. When I look at you, I see Christine. Hmm...that probably doesn't make sense, but I don't know how to put it any other way."



"No, I totally get what you're saying, and it's really sweet." She thought for a moment, then shyly asked, "do you think you'll ever think of me in a physical way?"



Outside her door, her mom was eavesdropping and her breath caught, wondering where this would lead.



"I don't know, C. I've never seen you anything less than fully dressed. You clothes are really nice, but like now, the t-shirt and jeans are about as skimpy as I've seen." He looked lower. "I've never before seen your feet. They're pretty."



"That's not true. You've seen me in my nightie and panties before. Oh, maybe you were preoccupied by your grandmother's events."



"You were in your undies those times? I'm so sorry, I didn't even notice."



"Don't be sorry. I'm kinda glad. I think I would have been embarrassed."



Chris sighed at her over-modesty. "I'm pretty sure that whatever you have under your clothes is nothing to be embarrassed about."



"Well, we could find out. Would you want to play 'show me yours and I'll show you mine?'"



Her mom put her hands over her face. Not even ten minutes after the trust and responsibility talk, and her daughter was talking about spending every last trust credit and then some. She was tempted to barge in and cancel the offer right there, but something told her to wait a moment and see if her original faith in the two teens had merit.



Chris was uneasy. He glanced rapidly around her room, then at her unlocked, but closed door. "I'm not sure we should."



Christine cocked her head in question, but still had not made a move toward her suggestion. 



This was something Chris noticed, and took a cue from. "I'm sure I'd enjoy such a game, not too confident you would, though. But, if we got caught, there would be the wrath from both of our parents. More important than that, I think we should save this particular surprise for someone we were in love with."



"I'm glad you said that, 'cuz I feel the same way. I'd have followed through, for fun and games. But, I'd also like to keep the mystery. Don't worry, I'm sure I would have enjoyed the game just as much."



That lead them to discuss what they find attractive in members of the opposite sex. Her mom blew out a huge sigh. There was a reason she and her husband had trusted these two so much, and they just unknowingly proved it. Christine's mom listened for a while and smiled when she realized they were describing each other's features as to what they were attracted to. "They're smart, but they're clueless to each other," she thought to herself. Finally, she ended her haunt and went to the living room to pick up the phone and call Chris' mom.



"You were right. The talks got them thinking," she said to her. Then she related what she overheard, as well as the discussion they were having just before she stopped listening. That was about how they wished some of their friends would be safer in their romantic physical activities, and the what-ifs that could result. She ended the call with, "you know what, Claire? They both have good heads on their shoulders, and the right attitudes. I don't think we have anything to worry about with these two." 



About half way through summer, Chris' mom thought it would be good for Chris if she nudged him into mingling with some more people other than Christine. She felt that he took a bit of a social learning hit when he spent all that time visiting his grandmother. So, she signed him up for a diocese retreat. He resisted and grumped about it, but her plan to tell him about it the night it started worked flawlessly. He was so stunned, there wasn't much he could do to get out of it.



When he walked in after she dropped him off, he was asked immediately to surrender his watch, sign this form, make out that name tag. He saw a few of his friends, and they looked as if they were willing to be there. But, things happened so fast the last hour, Chris felt like a fish out of water. He had no idea what this "camp" was about, or what was expected of him. The opening speech was geared toward people like his friends who knew at least something about this retreat and vague enough that it didn't help him get his bearings. It was like he was thrown blind into a new maze.



He played along with the icebreakers, doing the trust fall, blind lead, and such. But, it wasn't until the fourth group talks that he finally got the gist of what the retreat was about. It was a religious retreat for rising leadership stars in high school. Lead by peers who recently participated in a previous retreat, topics touched on identifying self-faults, sexuality, and of course the roles leadership plays in serving God. There was minimal adult supervision, on the premise that sensitive issues could be more freely talked about without fear of judgment, or word getting back to parents. Apparently, you could participate only once, unless you are invited to be one of the Team members to lead the next one or two. Chris participated the way he felt was expected of him, and found himself halfway enjoying the retreat, as it challenged him.



As the two and a half day event was winding down, the priest and nun who seemed to host and chaperone the weekend approached Chris when he happened to be alone for a minute. They asked if he would be interested in leading the next retreat. He answered that he would be glad to be one of the Team members. They shook their heads and said they would like him to take charge and lead the whole retreat. He didn't think he did anything special to deserve that, and told them so. They said they saw something in him, and that he was the only one being invited from this session to be a Team member. The current leader had led the last three retreats, which was stretching the guidelines that you can only attend three retreats: your first one, and if you're invited to two more as a Team member. So, a new leader had to be found. He clarified that by his math, after the next one, he would be "training" a whole new group. They said yes, and that was why they were asking him. Chris loved a challenge, and outside of track, he didn't have anything going on other than school, so he said yes.



It was announced at the closing Mass that Chris was selected and he accepted to become the next retreat leader. It hit home that this was a big deal when all the retreat participants and Team leaders stood and applauded him when he was asked to come up to the lectern and receive his invitation pin. The outgoing leader pinned it to his t-shirt collar, and Chris made a short impromptu speech thanking the Team members for the great retreat and said he was looking forward to the next one. After Mass, he was asked to stay after to get some materials. 



He met with the current Team where he found out that three of the members were leaving along with the current leader, so it would be the smallest Team they've ever had. With the next retreat being scheduled during the school year, there were likely to be fewer no-shows, making the next one retreat of the largest "classes" to date, as well. At that point, he learned that the retreat was invitation-only. Participants were selected by the Catholic High principal, Sister Collins, and by pastors of the parishes in the diocese. He was told that the retreat formula works because it is a once-and-done event, and the secrecy helps prepare the participants by not setting up any expectations. So, if he happened to know anyone who was selected for the next retreat, he was not to give up any details, only to say it is a Christian leadership seminar in a retreat format. Finally, he was told the next retreat was in eight weeks, and that the first meeting was scheduled for the following Thursday night. Chris was given four large manuals in binders and some worksheets for him to prepare, then all wished him well and welcomed him onto the Team.



Chapter 6



Junior year started off with a bang right out of the gate. Chris was being pressured by his parents to get working on applications for college, alongside preparations for the retreat in a few weeks. Christine was busy in her own right, juggling music and cheerleading. She ended up dropping voice lessons, as the time just wasn't there. The only time they had together lately was either in his car on the way to school, or in the hallway waiting for school to start.



When he picked her up one day, she told him that she got an invitation to go on some diocese-sponsored retreat in two weeks. He commented that at least her parents let her know about it. Christine deducted that he had gone to this retreat from that comment, and started to try and grill him for information. He said only that it was a good program, and she should make plans to go. She answered that she would go based on his recommendation, even if it meant missing a rivalry game.



At school, Chris was easing back into a couple of social circles after the lengthy social hiatus due to his grandmother's illness. More and more classmates were finding that he was approachable now. Christine was happy to see him getting accepted by friends again. Before long, the pair of friends known as CC was becoming a popular sounding board for all types of teenage issues. Schoolmates who sought them out found that neither passed judgment, nor did anything sensitive escape the conversation.



The first night of the retreat arrived, and Christine was dropped off by her parents, like all the other participants. After signing in at the door and being lead to the girls' sleeping room to drop off her things, Christine's breath caught when she noticed Chris talking to the host priest on the other side of the meeting hall. She went up to him when he seemed to be through with the discussion.



"You're on this retreat, too?" she asked happily.



"Not exactly 'on' the retreat," he replied.



"Why else would you be here at this parish?" Christine asked, confused.



"You'll see when everything starts. For now, it is suggested that you mingle with the others near the center of the room."



"Okay," she replied, a bit bewildered by his cold reception.



She greeted the others who were there, and gathered through chat that none had ever been on a retreat like this. While she picked up some more pieces about the retreat being invitation-only, and it focusing on Christian leadership, she stole glances at her friend Chris. Every time she looked for him, he was in a different place in the room, talking quietly to a different person. Christine couldn't quite figure out his role in this, but he seemed to be important enough to keep getting called to a different place. She shook her head clear of the curiosity, and lost herself in meeting the newcomers.



After about a half hour, Chris stepped up to the mingling group and asked that they take a seat on one of the carpet tiles placed in a circle around them. Once everyone claimed a tile, Chris started the retreat.



"Hello and welcome to our leadership conference! My name is Chris, and I am going to be your bandleader for the weekend, so to speak. This here is Mike, one of our Team members. He is going to pass out some Ziploc bags and markers. I need you to put your watch and cell phone, if you brought one, in the bag after marking it with your name. These will be collected and promptly pawned." The group laughed uneasily. 



"I'm just kidding. Fr. Rick will place them in the rectory safe until we return them to you at the end of the weekend. No, I'm not out of minutes. Not yet, anyway." 



There were a few more chuckles. "The reason we need you to turn these in is that we find the retreat experience is more enjoyable for you if you are not encumbered by thoughts of the outside world. While you are working on that, I'm going to have Sister Mary and Father Rick step into the soundproof room." 



When the two adults didn't move, he continued, "Otherwise known as the kitchen. Hint. Hint." 



The participants had loosened up enough that they all laughed. Chris turned back to them. "Okay, the reason I had them leave the room is very important. First, it is to show you that there is minimal adult supervision on this retreat. This is a retreat for teens, run by teens. The only reasons Father and Sister are here is in case we strike a nerve and someone needs counseling, or if there is an emergency. By law we have to have an adult present. Both cases are rare, so there should be minimal interruption from adults. Please be on good behavior, so that we can keep the number of adults to two for future retreats. 



"Number two! There are no drugs allowed on this retreat. In a few minutes, the Team members will search everyone's bag and sleeping roll, including mine. If there is anything untoward, the offender WILL be removed from this retreat. Depending on what's found, they may be leaving with a uniformed person while wearing a brand new pair of linked bracelets. I will give 10 'duty-free' minutes starting now while the adults are out of the room. During this time, you may chat with each other, grab a soda from the cooler over there, go to the bathroom. Or, if needed, I suggest you use the time to discretely discard any drugs, alcohol, or tobacco you may have brought with you. I don't care where you dispose of it, as long as it's not in this building. As a reminder, your body counts as 'in this building,' so I suggest you don't put the contraband there either. Okay? I'll let you all mingle, get to know each other, and we'll meet back here in 10 minutes."



Christine was impressed. Chris commanded the group's attention with ease and kept them interested with his humor. He engaged the whole group by walking around, leaving no one out from his eye contact. She caught his attention while walking by her on the floor chatting with some of the others.



"I didn't know you were on the Team, much less leading this," she told him.



"Yeah, I'm sorry I couldn't tell you. Part of the fun is not knowing what's next."



"I can't believe you made me give up my watch. I feel naked without it. When was the last time you've seen me without one?"



"Never," he replied with a smile as he knelt behind her. "But, I know a trick that helps with that."



He pulled her hair out of the ponytail band and quickly tied the long locks into a neat braid, then he slipped the band over her left wrist, and departed to take care of some obscure business. The other girls in the group fawned over the gesture, asking Christine all sorts of questions about whether they were seeing each other, how he knew how to braid her hair, and what was he like when he was away from groups. She answered the questions honestly: no, they weren't going out, he's never braided her hair before, although he's watched her hundreds of times, and away from groups, he's quiet and steady. One girl, Cathy, seemed particularly interested.



As the night went on, Chris would stop by the smaller groups to see how the talks were going. Sometimes a Team member would let him know that things had gone stale, and Chris would offer a viewpoint or a different way of thinking about the topic to get the group talking again. Whatever he said worked every time, and the discussion was refreshed with vigor. A game Christine and her group of girls came up with was trying to get Chris to let slip what time it was. He would answer with a witty reply like, "half past a freckle," or "Tool Time!" which he borrowed from one of his favorite shows. Near bed time, Chris specifically went up behind Christine and whispered in her ear, "Catholic won 45-38, but Rob (their senior quarterback) got hurt. They don't know how bad, or when he'll play again. Thought you'd want to know." Christine smiled and thanked him.



The weekend clipped along, and Christine found herself enjoying being under Chris' easy control. Along with the others, she ate, slept, went to the restroom, and talked about things she normally wouldn't with mixed company, merely because he said to. She also noticed that Cathy was pursuing Chris pretty hard, talking with him at nearly every opportunity. Christine was happy that he was hitting it off with someone, but also surprised that she felt jealous that his attention wasn't directed at her.



After the closeout ceremony, Chris said to the group, "oh yeah! By the way, it's 2:30." The group laughed because by now most had forgotten about time. "So, you can pick up your watches and phones now that the retreat is finished." All applauded. There was some time between cleanup and Mass where everyone was free to do as they liked, provided it was still on the grounds. 



Chris and the rest of the Team disappeared for a while to meet and assess the group for candidates to be on the next Team. When Cathy's name came up, the group was surprised that Chris vetoed it. They thought he would have been the first to nominate her, since the two had become pretty close during the retreat. He told them that him liking someone did not necessarily mean they would be good on the Team. He felt that Cathy might be a little too outspoken for group chats and might monopolize the conversations. The rest of the group thought about it and agreed. In the end, they agreed on six names who would receive invitation letters the next week. Chris felt it might be viewed as favoritism if he brought Christine up, and decided it would be best if the group came up with her name. They did not. 



The outgoing group then gave Chris a surprise. They handed him a card where they all wrote notes of praise and encouragement to him and signed it. Inside that card was a $100 Visa gift card. They said they all chipped in and had Father Rick go out and buy it that afternoon. Then came the hugs all around. Each one of the Team thanked Chris for giving them the best retreat they had out of the three they attended or worked.



Chris found the retreat participants in the parking lot, playing an impromptu game of stick ball. He went up to Cathy, who was watching from the side, and put his arms around her from behind. She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled. Christine saw this and thought to herself, "sure as shit, she won her prize." That scene would later be the only thing she remembered about the whole retreat.



Father Rick got up at the end of the Mass and explained to the congregation why there were three rows of very well behaved teenagers at the front. He said that the retreat went exceptionally well, the best he'd seen as far as personal development in the teens, and credited the success to Chris. The retreat Team and participants gave Chris a long standing ovation while he made his way up to the lectern to thank the parish for hosting the event and tried to share the credit with his Team members. After the Mass, Chris endured a long stream of handshakes and hugs from the retreat members. Last was Cathy, who also gave him a peck on the cheek while she promised to call him soon.



Chris was still busy preparing for his final retreat scheduled for fall break, but as he had already lead one, he found a little more time to stop by and chat with Christine. But, more often than not, their conversations were cut short by a call from Cathy. He would say goodbye to Christine and start walking home with his phone plastered to his ear.



On Homecoming game night, Christine was warming up when she saw Chris enter the back gate. She was used to seeing him at the games, but this time, his hand was attached to Cathy's. Her teammates noticed her mood change and asked if she was alright. She said that she was, even as she watched with contempt about half her class flock to the new couple in the stands to meet Cathy.

<hr pg="7" />Near halftime, Christine did a tumbling routine which ended in a back flip. As she landed, her foot slipped into an unseen sprinkler head divot and a blinding white hot pain flashed from her knee. Like a shot, Chris was over the stand's front rail and at her side before the cheer coach even knew what happened. He shouted for the football team's trainer, and told one of the other cheerleaders to find and summon Christine's dad. He worked quickly to slip her foot out of the small hole and gingerly laid her knee straight. Then he moved behind her, sitting Indian style on the damp grass and placing her head in his lap when the trainer arrived.



"What happened?" asked the doctor.



Chris was smoothing Christine's hair out of her face, trying to quiet her crying. "She landed in a hole and her knee went completely backward."



This was met with a chorus of groans from the cheerleaders. The doctor moved her knee slightly, which was met with her wrenching her body from the pain. Her dad arrived and Chris repeated what he saw. Being a doctor himself, he asked Christine a series of questions about her pain and ability or not to move her leg. The trainer ran to get a leg immobilizer and summoned the ambulance stationed at the end of the field. He returned and the two doctors worked to stabilize her leg while Chris held her head and comforted her the best he could. At one point, she asked him if he shouldn't be with his new girlfriend, to which he responded that Cathy could wait.



Play was halted so that the ambulance could drive the length of the field to pick up Christine. Players from both teams knelt in place on one knee, a gesture normally done locally by only cheerleaders if a player was hurt on the field. The whole stadium was hushed out of concern for the fallen cheerleader. It was so quiet that the crowd sometimes could hear her crying. When the ambulance left with Christine and her dad, Chris climbed the stadium to return to Cathy.



"Is she going to be okay?" Cathy asked the question that was on all of the nearby crowd's mind.



"Yeah, it's her knee. Her dad said they'll probably have to operate tonight before scar tissue starts forming on the tendons and interferes with their recovery."



"That was cool how you helped her. Where did you learn all that first aid?"



"I'm an Eagle Scout," he replied. "I learned most of it while earning badges."



She saw his face was skewed with concern. "You want to leave, don't you? I can tell."



"No, it's okay. We can stay for the end of the game."



"Eh, let's go. You're worried about her, and I don't blame you."



They said goodbye to his classmates and made their way out of the stadium. She asked if she could come with him to the hospital, but he declined, reasoning that it would be awkward for her, since she didn't know anyone who might be there besides him and Christine. He also reminded her that it might be a late night, and the dance was tomorrow. So, Cathy agreed to be taken home. He walked her to the door and gave her a light peck on the lips before confirming the time to pick her up the next night.



Chris found Christine's parents in the surgical waiting room. He gave her mom a hug and her dad briefed Chris on what was going on. Two ligaments were torn in two and a number of tendons strained. She entered surgery about a half hour ago and it was expected to last up to four hours. 



The doctor came back much earlier than expected and informed them that everything went very well. So well, in fact, he believed she could be cheering again in about 6 weeks. They got to see her in recovery soon after, and Chris was surprised to see her awake. Mostly. Christine might have been awake, but she was also out of it, saying that she loved Chris. Then she said she loved EVERYBODY. Her dad leaned over to Chris and whispered, "Morphine." They were telling her that they loved her and were glad to see she was going to be okay. Suddenly, the drugs removed the normal filter between her mood and her speech.



"Hey, Chris!" she announced loudly. "Where's the new girlfriend? She know you're here?"



"Yeah, C. She knows. Cathy said to tell you she was keeping you in her thoughts tonight."



"I bet! She's probably at home gloating that she stole you from me! You know she's all wrong for you, right? She's so rrr rrr, and you're so ahh. Tsk, tsk, you probably don't even see it, do you? Pity you never saw me. WE could have been great together! Whoa...why did someone start spinning the walls?"



Her dad had seen this in his patients hundreds of times before and he quickly grabbed the pan and held it under her chin, which she very soon after did a good job of filling up. He hit the nurse button, and her mom lead Chris out of the room.



"She doesn't mean what she's saying, Chris. It's the drugs talking right now."



He nodded. "I know, Mrs. B."



Her mom stopped to correct herself. "Well, she means most of it, but she did not mean to say it, much less for you to hear it. Can you understand what I'm getting at?"



He gave her a hug and said, "don't worry, I don't hold any of that against her. As far as she'll know, it was never said."



They made way for the nurse responding to the call.



Christine's mom answered, "thank you. And I'm saying that from me and for her. You really are sweet, Chris."



"It's no problem, Mrs. B."



"I think it would be a good idea if you left now. Let her get some rest."



"Are you sure?"



"Yes. She knows you were here tonight and that's enough for her right now."



"Well, okay. Anything I can do for you? Maybe bring you and Doctor something from the IHOP across the street?"



"No dear. Thank you anyway."



"You're welcome. I'll see you tomorrow night."



On his way out the door, Chris texted Christine's cell phone. "G'nite, love. Get well soon!"



He picked up Cathy at the appointed time with high hopes that this dance would be what he was looking for in the others. He had a date who was romantically interested in him, and in that light, things were progressing well. Chris hoped that romance was the missing piece. But, that's not what things turned out to be. While they had plenty in common and finding topics to talk about was easy on the phone, Chris found himself getting bored with her aggressive chatter at dinner. He hid it well, but he was thinking that being with Cathy on a romantic level might have been a mistake. They danced and she seemed to be having a good time, and he was too, but his love meter just didn't make it above friendship. Cathy might have sensed that, because she surprised him at the end of the Homecoming dance by suggesting they go see Christine. He resisted to be polite, but Cathy thought it might be fun to visit someone in the hospital while dressed in formal wear. He agreed, not realizing that Christine might be right, and that Cathy might have been using the opportunity to rub it in that she "had" Chris.



So, straight from the dance, Chris drove to the hospital. Right at the main entrance, a security guard stopped them, saying visiting hours were over. Cathy chipped up a perky "we're here to see a friend, and we won't be long." She went to take a step, but the guard moved to block her, insisting that visiting hours were over.



Chris stepped in calmly. "My name is Chris Zehyr. I'm friends with Dr. Barron. We're here to see his daughter for just a little bit. May we please pass?"



The guard demeanor changed suddenly. "Sorry, Mr. Zehyr. Doctor and Mrs. Barron said to expect you. They wanted me to tell you that Miss Barron was moved to room 413. Do you know your way?"



"Yes, sir. Thank you."



When they reached the elevator, Chris answered Cathy's questioning look. "Christine's dad is the head of the HMO board here. You know, a little sugar can go a lot further than vinegar when you want something."



She ignored his scold and the rest of the trip to Christine's room was silent. Chris stopped by the nurses' station to find out how Christine was doing. Unlike the experience with the guard, the night nurses recognized Chris immediately. They all greeted him warmly, asked how he was doing, and gave their condolences about his grandmother. Cathy noticed that the two younger nurses even flirted with him, although Chris seemed oblivious to it. He asked how Christine was doing, and the general report was that she was getting better, and might be released tomorrow. He thanked them all and he and Cathy continued on to Christine's room.



Upon entering the room, Cathy stuck her arm through her boyfriend's, threw on a fake peppy air about her and spewed a boisterous "there she is! How are you doing? You look really good for being in a hospital."



Christine inhaled sharply, looked to the ceiling to collect herself, then replied as evenly as she could, "hi. Yeah, they say I might make it out of here tomorrow. Chris, don't you look snazzy!"



Little did Cathy know that Chris could recognize most girls' fake friendliness, and that hers was glaring. He also had very little patience for such putting on. Chris started thinking that this might have been a rather large mistake, and that he should have come alone later after dropping Cathy off. Christine's little snub toward Cathy didn't escape him either and he had to stifle a snicker. "Hey, C. Thanks. I must say your Homecoming gown is smokin'! Must be quite a sight from the back as well." That broke the tension in the room and they all laughed. "How are you feeling?"



"Well, the class of drugs they have me on beats the shit out of Tylenol. Other than being loopy, I feel pretty good. Look, I want to tell you thank you for coming to my rescue. Dad said that what you did those first seconds really helped to minimize the damage and kept me from going into shock."



"I'm not so sure about that..."



"Well, he said that you kept my head off the wet grass and kept me still. You did what you could and it was right. Thanks."



"You're welcome. Did Jack come and see you before the dance?"



"No, I think he went without me."



Cathy piped up. "Yeah, Chris said he saw him there with some girl from another school."



Chris glared at Cathy. "I'm sorry," he said to Christine.



"Figures. Oh well, we were just going as friends, anyway. Sister Collins, Coach, and some of the girls from the team stopped by, though." She pointed to the various flower arrangements with her eyes.



Chris looked at the tags and read the notes. "Yeah, those are nice." 



Cathy cleared her throat. "Okay, well, we thought we would stop by and see you. Glad you're recovering well."



Chris took the hint and leaned over the bed. For a brief second, Christine thought and hoped he was going to kiss her forehead. He was, but thought better of it when he remembered her requiring permission. So, he grabbed her hand and whispered instead, "I'll see you later, okay?"



She nodded and they disappeared down the hall. "Yup, she's all wrong for him," Christine thought out loud. "But at least he sees it now, I think."



Chris took Cathy home and walked her to the door.



"I had a nice time," she said.



"Yeah, me too."



"So, when will I see you again?"



Chris didn't know, and said so.



"Well, good night, then." She leaned in to kiss him.



He dodged the lip lock and kissed her cheek. 



"Uh, oh," she said quietly.



"I'm sorry," he said to her. "It's just not happening for me. I do like you, and hope we can remain friends."



She had kind of felt this was coming, as his warmth had been fading all evening. The drive from the hospital was especially cold, and she knew now that her cockiness had turned him off. She nodded. "It's okay. It was worth a shot, right?" she asked with a half laugh.



"Of course. I thought something was there, too. But if it's not working, it's not working, and I thought it might be best to let you know early on, before too much is invested."



Cathy sighed. "I know what you mean. Well, I really did have a nice time, I mean that. Can I call you sometime?"



"You can call me anytime. Good night."



Chris was back in Christine's room by mid morning. Her doctor had seen her, and cleared her departure for that day. Chris helped her parents get things packed up and downstairs in their SUV. They all had lunch in her room, and she was discharged shortly after. Chris followed them home. Before he could get out of his car, her parents were standing at Christine's open car door, trying to figure out the best way to get her inside. Chris strode up and said he'd take care of it. Her parents grabbed her flowers and opened the house door.



"What are you planning to do?" Christine asked.



"Just sit there like that, put your arm around my neck and I'll carry you in."



"Oh, I don't think so. There's no way you're gonna carry me that far." Chris was toned, and attractive enough, but far from a body builder.



He looked at her. "What? You're like 90 pounds sopping wet!"



"Aww. Thanks, but I'm not that frail. I weigh 105, TYVM. I don't want you to hurt yourself...or drop me."



He wrapped her arm around his neck, reached under her thighs and back and lifted her out of the car. "I don't care what you say. We're doing this," he said with a slightly strained voice. With her immobilized leg extended out, it made for some interesting navigation at their kitchen door, but Chris managed it and carried Christine to the living room sofa. With an unintended grunt, and last ounce of strength, he deposited her gently just before he was sure his arms would give out.



She looked at his blood red face and the pain med caused some uncontrollable laughter. "My hero," she sighed and put the back of her wrist to her forehead in "Gone With The Wind" style. She laughed some more at his expense. "I'm glad my dad is picking up some crutches today."



He looked slightly annoyed at her making fun, but accepted it. "Why's that?"



She giggled even more. "Because, we are definitely NOT doing THAT at school. One or both of us are liable to get killed."



He plopped down in a recliner next to her with a wry smile. "Glad I could entertain you with these chicken bones."



Her mom came up to them with two glasses of lemonade. "Pay no attention to her, C. They've got her on so much shit, she doesn't know which end is up. She won't tell you that before you drove up, our next option was to strap her to the hand truck and wheel her in."



Chris chuckled, both at what she said, and because he had never heard the woman cuss before. "So when do you think you'll be able to come back to school?" he asked, changing the subject.



Chapter 7



Three days later, Christine returned to school, riding in with Chris. Although she was perfectly capable of slinging her bag over her shoulder and moving on crutches, Chris would carry her books to her classes. He used the sympathy card to get the teachers let him come to class a couple of minutes late. But, after school, he was working to get things rolling for the last retreat he would lead. And, being true to his word, he ignored what Christine had said her first night in the hospital.



That Friday, Chris agreed to take her to the game. He parked and told her in no uncertain terms that she would NOT be using crutches to cross the sandy field. Instead, he had her ride piggyback on him. When they got situated on the stands behind the cheerleaders, the schoolmates who had not crossed paths with Christine earlier in the week came flocking. Most of the girls leaned over Christine to give her a hug, and all stopped to say they were glad she was recovering. When that crowd cleared, the cheerleader squad came squealing up to do the same. The hub bub finally died down enough that she could see that a small orange marker flag was placed at the sprinkler that injured her. A flood of memories of that painful night came back and it was only then that she realized Chris was there without his girlfriend.



She turned to him and asked, "hey, where's Cathy?"



He shrugged, "I don't know. Why?"



"Well, should you be here with me? I mean, isn't she coming? We're playing her school tonight."



"Huh...didn't think of that."



"What's going on Chris?"



"What? Nothing...I'm sitting here with you to watch the game. I don't know what you're asking."



She rolled her eyes and sighed mightily. "Where's the tramp...I mean, the girlfriend you took to Homecoming? Why haven't you said anything about her tonight?"



"Huh? I thought you knew."



"Knew what, C?"



He looked around to see how much attention that louder than necessary question got. The answer was more attention than he liked. "We didn't exactly have the same level of feelings for each other. And, I told her so. We're still friends. She's called me a couple of times since."



Christine knitted her brows, reached in her pocket and popped a pill. "Since...when?"



"Your leg hurt?" he asked regarding the pill she took.



"Yeah, a little...don't change the subject."



"You should only take that if you can't stand the pain, C."



She threw daggers with her eyes. "Don't coach me on when or what to take. You don't know... anyway, when did you tell her you didn't feel the same?"



"When I dropped her off after we saw you in the hospital."



"Christopher Zehyr! You did NOT dump that girl on Homecoming night!" she nearly yelled, being as shocked as she was.



"Why does it matter to you? You hated her, anyway. Actually, I have a hunch the feeling was mutual."



"Yeah, but...That means you could do that to m...I mean, I didn't know you could be so cold." Christine's voice trembled, and she wasn't sure whether it was the chilled air, or if she was that upset.



"He wasn't, really," came a female voice from the side.



Both flicked their heads in that direction. With all the students and parents filing past, neither had noticed Cathy standing there. She was arm in arm with Mike, one of their senior schoolmates. They later found out that Mike went to the same parish as Cathy.



Cathy gave a small laugh at their surprise. "It's good to see you up and around again, Christine."



Christine gave a wry smile. "Thanks. Good to see you, too."



"Well, enjoy the lesson my team's about to give yours."



The couple walked off, and Christine rubbed her temples, wondering how much of their conversation Cathy heard. The embarrassment of her social blunder lasted only until a booster club student came up to them with a cordless microphone. The generic "Star Spangled Banner" tape had worn completely out and broke while it was being rewound. Their principal thought they might be willing to step in for the game's national anthem. The options were down to them or the booster club. 



The booster club singing could be a painful and humiliating event, so Christine grabbed the mike and asked how they wanted them to do it. The reply was that they could sing from where they were, the game announcer would direct the crowd's attention to them.



"Fuck that!" Christine exclaimed while getting up onto her good leg. The pill was starting to work it's magic. "If we're performing, I'm standing on that field."



Chris shook his head and sighed, "tell Mr. Gary we'll do it, and that we'll be on the 50."



The student went to relay the message to the announcer.



Christine looked at Chris and said, "come on...we gotta warm up."



Chris turned his back to her and she hopped on. He made his way around to the back of the stadium, and put her down. Soon, they started singing scales under the stands. When they finished, they saw their team forming up under the center of the stands, waiting to take the field. Christine hopped on Chris' back and they went over to follow them out. She stayed on his back, to save her knee from too many ups and downs, and she reached out to one of the nearby players and playfully tapped his helmet. 



He turned and said, "oh, hey CC!"



"Good luck," she responded cheerfully.



Another player wandered close enough and she repeated the gesture. Before long, the players were telling each other to go and get their good luck tap from CC. The last player filed past just before the team stormed the field. Chris followed them through the tunnel and let Christine down a little ways onto the field.

<hr pg="8" />Following the invocation, the announcer said over the PA, "due to technical difficulties, the national anthem will be sung by two students tonight. Just last week, she suffered a serious injury to her leg while cheering at Homecoming. We're glad to see her standing tonight. Please welcome juniors Christine Barron and Christopher Zehyr!"



They acknowledged the crowds applause and cheers with a wave. Then Christine put her arm around Chris' waist for support and asked if he was ready. He nodded and she flipped the microphone on. They sung the anthem in a ballad style, familiar to them from singing it at various ceremonies when asked. They nailed the tune and the crowd remained standing while giving a wild cheer at the end. The cheers renewed when she jumped on his back and he jogged off the field with her waving.



Their team ended up winning the game against the slightly bigger school. In their jubilation, some of their schoolmates came up to them after and asked if they wanted to go to a party. Christine begged off, noting that her knee needed some rest. Besides, she had SAT's the next day.



Time clipped along that fall, and soon the Fall/Thanksgiving break was upon them. On the way home, Chris mentioned that he was glad his last retreat would be over in three days, and that he was looking forward to spending time with Christine, for once. She reminded him that her family was taking a trip to Orlando that week. She asked if he'd like to come, but it turned out that the retreat would end after they left. Also, his family didn't have the money to let him go, anyway. So, both started their break in foul moods.



The retreat was a similar success to the first one he led, and Chris was offered a youth coordinator position with the diocese. He politely turned it down, knowing how busy he would be with track next spring, but he promised to reconsider it if he stayed in town after graduation next year. When he told his mom about it, she was upset, saying it would be a perfect high school job. Much better looking on a resume than flipping burgers. But, Chris had grown tired of the church thing, and he stood firm by his decision. Between his mom's incessant opinion that Chris was making this big mistake, and all of his friends out of town, it made for a very long week.



School started back up the next week, and both students were wrapped up in preparing for finals. The time apart carried over into Christmas when Chris' parents took him on an extended trip to see family up north for the holidays. He still managed to text her goodnight, but that was about all.



The next spring, school was school, but one boy was paying special attention to Christine, and it wasn't Chris. She didn't think she'd ever be attracted to someone until college, but, here she was, looking forward to the next run-in with Larry. They would chat in the hallway about small things like what they were doing after school that day and so on. Her heart would flutter whenever she saw him smile, and she wondered if he would ever ask her out.



Chris, of course noticed this, and as the time was starting to run out for high school, he wanted to make one last attempt at going with Christine to a dance. He decided if she said no this time, he'd give up on asking her, and settle on friendship for the rest of this and senior year. So, the Friday before track season started, he took a deep breath while driving her home.



"So, Christine..."



"Sooo, Chris!" she giggled.



He smirked, but continued, "well, I think I've got it figured out about high school dances."



"Oh yeah? How so?"



"Well, it seems to me that whoever asks first, that's who you go with."



"Hmm, seems that way, doesn't it?"



"So, before senior year starts, and things get serious...would you go to Prom with me?"



She gave a half chuckle, a little preoccupied in her thoughts about Larry. "Isn't Prom like three months away?" she asked absentmindedly.



"Yes, and I wanted to be the first to ask you this time around."



Christine looked over and gave a small smile. "You definitely are the first. What if you meet some track babe? Then you'd be stuck with me for Prom instead of her..."



"That's not going to happen..."



"How would you know? A tornado could strike any time, any where."



"Don't you mean lightning?"



"Lightning, tornado, whatever. They're both unpredictable. Just, I don't want us to be in the way of each other's potential love life by committing this early."



He started to get defensive. "Look, Christine. That's not going to happen. I figured that maybe since we've been such good friends since we were little, it would be nice to have one grown up date before the end of high school." He set his jaw tight as he brought the car to a rest at a red light. "Maybe I just figured wrong."



"No, it's okay. That's really sweet of you. My point is you don't know what's going to happen three months out. Were you expecting to fall so quick for Cathy?"



Chris gripped the wheel tighter, looked out the window at nothing in paticular, and answered quietly, "no, but..." He didn't know why this was upsetting him so much, and he wished he never brought it up.



"See? No but's. I'm right. Now, if you don't find anyone by the time Prom gets closer, ask me again, and I'll probably say yes."



"Yes, to Larry..." he mumbled under his breath when traffic started moving again.



"What was that?" Christine asked through slitted eyes.



"I said, 'yes, to Larry.' You're saying no to me, probably because you're hoping he'll ask you."



"Well, the thought had crossed my mind, yes. Why? Are you jealous?"



Chris huffed, "Is that what you wanted? If so, call off the dogs! Your plan worked. I don't know why, but I am."



Christine got a wicked look on her face. "You like me, don't you?"



He missed that it was supposed to be a taunt. "Well, sure...we've been friends for a while now..."



"No...I mean LIKE me."



"Yeah, I like you. What's not to like?"



"Pull over for a second."



He found a place to stop for a while out of traffic.



"Now, Chris. Look at me. Good. You want this, don't you?"



He gulped. "Huh, what do you mean?"



She trailed her fingers up over her knees to her jean-clad thighs. "You like these legs? This waist? This stomach? My...hmm, heart?" She underlined each question by lightly tracing each with her petite fingers.



"I've never noticed before, but yeah." His heart pounded in his chest as her voice beckoned him to come closer.



Just as his lips were inching toward hers, she broke the spell. "Well, this, you can't have, Chris," she said sharply.



He snapped out of it and said, "what the hell?"



"This, me, my body you can't have. It's not yours. You don't own it, you don't have to protect it. None of this is yours, so stop assuming things and quit being jealous. Let's stay friends and leave it there."



Chris was hurt. "It was just a stupid Junior Prom dance...sorry if I offended you by asking."



She shook her head. "Three months. Really? Three months away and you want me to exclude everyone else I might become interested in." Christine let out a sigh. "Sorry for snapping. I meant it when I said ask me again later when it gets closer. I just...I just don't know. Take me home now, please?"



Later that night, she was brushing her hair and could barely face herself in the mirror. "Why did he have to ask me NOW? And, why did I respond that way? 'Cause you're flipping head over heels for someone who hasn't even sat with you at lunch yet, you stupid brat. God, I wish it were anyone but Chris who asked...then I could talk to him about it....ugh." She threw down the brush, frustrated by the internal conversation. Christine also knew on some level that her answer about falling for Larry was the answer to both questions. She fell on her bed and sighed, almost sobbed, into her pillow, "why on Earth am I so freaking confused?"



Chris went through the confused phase in the car on the way to her house. Now, he was just plain angry. Her attitude had become a bit bizarre after her injury. She would taunt him a lot. Her little tease and then blow up in the car was icing on the cake. But mostly, he was angry and embarrassed at himself for approaching the subject so early. He saw Larry talking to Christine that afternoon, and made the mistake of trying to preempt the probable conclusion. "I won't make that mistake again," he vowed to himself.



Spring drove on, and the two rode to school together out of convenience, more than anything else. Their relationship changed after that car ride home, and the trips to school were stone quiet more often than not. It was weird to them both, not having the closeness of the other to rely on, but somehow they managed to stay at least cordial toward each other.



Track season went on as he expected, without a single girl catching his eye. He resigned himself to taking up Christine's offer of asking her again, since he had heard she still didn't have a date. One night, he picked up his cell phone to call her when it rang and startled him. It was Cathy. They hadn't talked in quite a while, so they caught each other up. The conversation wound down and she suddenly asked him to her Junior Prom the following weekend, and he accepted after finding out that she and Mike had broken up.



Chris told his mom about it, and she said it would be nice to invite her to his school's prom in return. He resisted, reminding her how things went for Homecoming. His mom told him that maybe their timing was off and things would go better this time around. He thought about it for a bit, then picked up the phone and called Cathy back to ask her to his prom. She agreed happily and it was all set up.



At the first dinner, he started having doubts on whether this was a good idea. The conversation just wasn't holding his attention. He endured the dance itself, the only person there he knew was Cathy. Then, after following her friends over half the city, looking for a place to play pool, and giving up in the end, he was SURE having asked her to his prom was a mistake. She kissed him at her door, but he acted like he was too shy to kiss back.



When they entered his prom, he saw that Larry finally asked Christine to go. Chris went through the motions, acting almost on autopilot and not remembering much from the dance. That is until Cathy went to the bathroom. One of the senior girls who was on one of the retreat teams that fall went up to Chris and said that she was having many from that group over for a post-prom party. He said he'd think about going, unsure what would happen after the dance. As soon as the lock-in time was up, he led Cathy to the car. After driving for a bit, he pulled over and asked what she wanted to do. She didn't offer any ideas, so he said he was taking her home. He walked her up to the door and said goodbye to her for the last time.



On the way home, he decided to stop by Sherri's house and say hi to those who went on his retreats. He parked the car, and as he walked the street to her house, Bill called to him. Chris went over where the senior and his date were parked. He asked Chris to tell Larry they were ready to go. When Chris was let in, he said hello to everybody and found Larry on the sofa with his arm around Christine.



"Hey, Larry, your brother says he's ready to go."



Christine released an "oh, man!" and rolled her eyes. "I wanted to stay longer."



Larry said he was sorry, but his brother was their ride.



To simply be nice, Chris offered to take Christine home, since she lived near him. This garnered an explosive look from Larry, but Christine led him by the arm to the door. After a few quiet moments, she returned to find Chris alone in the den.



"Where did everyone go?"



"Out back to the hot tub. I stayed here to tell you, in case you decided to stay. So, did you want to join them?"



She sat down in the recliner. "I'm not really the hot tub type. When did they get swimsuits?"



"Um, I think they're all in their undies...or less." He sat opposite her on the sofa. "Could be fun..."



Christine closed her eyes. "No...could you just sit here and talk with me?"



He agreed and it opened the door back to their friendship. The two talked for over three hours, starting with their dates that night. Her's was about the same as his, and she suggested this party to Larry, partly because she didn't want to be alone with him, and also because his brother's date went on the same retreat as her. But Bill and Samantha stayed in the car for some "alone" time. Larry kept rubbing her shoulders suggestively at the party, and she was praying for a quick exit. That is until Chris showed. Alone. 



Chris related how the connection with Cathy was nonexistent as well, and that she dropped hints she wanted more. He didn't so he took her home right after the dance. Christine asked what took him so long, and he told her it was a 45 minute drive each way to her house. He asked how her knee was and she said it still hurt her. Then, she admitted she was still taking pain pills. She caught his look of concern and asked him to not say anything. Her parents say enough about that all ready. She had it x-rayed and there was an MRI showing everything was normal. Her mom and dad had started trying to convince her that it was in her head and that she should go back to cheering in the fall. Chris asked what she wanted to do, and she didn't know. The subjects then turned toward college and career dreams. At last, Chris looked at the clock on the wall and noted to her that it was 3 a.m. They decided to leave without even seeing what was going on in the hot tub out back. 



He parked in her driveway and she asked if he was coming in. He decided to at least walk her to the kitchen door. But, instead of her stopping and telling him good night, she just opened the door and held it for him to come in. Her family was still up, as Tom just got in from college.



"What the hell?" Tom asked when he saw Chris. "I thought they said you went with Larry?"



"I did." Christine opened the refrigerator door, pulled out two soda bottles and handed one to Chris. "Chris found me at a party and stole me from Larry."



Chris looked at Tom, then their parents and waved his arms. "Oh, no, no. It wasn't like that at all. Larry's brother wanted to leave. I just offered her a ride home if she wanted to stay."



"You stole me," she said coyly.



Tom looked at her. "Does that mean you two are an item now? Just like that?"



She went over and popped him on the back of his head in good humor. "Heck no! We are back to best friends, I guess you could say. God, my knee is killing me." She went to the cupboard, found her vial, and popped the white pill in her mouth.



Her mom rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I'm so sure. Wasn't there enough booze there?"



"Not that kind of party, Mom! And, it really does hurt." She turned toward the hallway leading to her bedroom. "Chris, you coming?"



Tom yelled after her, "you think that knee hurts now! If you do that, you won't be able to move it in the morning!"



Christine spun around on her heel in the hallway and marched back into the kitchen. She put her nose in Tom's and said in a low growl, "it's not like that! We're friends, it's late, and I don't want him waking up his parents. Now back the fuck off!!" She spun back around, grabbed Chris' hand and led him out into the hallway, calling back over her shoulder in an angry tone, "welcome back, Tom!"



Chris was a bit uneasy being in her room, after such a long absence. She assured him her parents' invitation to him was still intact. He wasn't so sure, but she reasoned to him that they didn't say otherwise, even just now. She whistled for Pepper, and the dog bounded in before the door was closed. Chris got undressed while Christine was in her bathroom and was under her covers by the time she got back out. He watched her undo her hair while they chatted, but he fell asleep before she even reached for the zipper on her dress.



He left later that morning before Christine woke. When he got home, his mom asked if he remembered to keep his pants "zippered up." He told her that he wasn't with Cathy after the dance. Instead, he was with Christine for most of the night. His mom then repeated her statement, to which he smiled and said, "I always do."



Chapter 8



Separately, they were asked by their guidance counselor to take Peer Counseling as an elective for senior year. They both agreed and the fall semester didn't get very far before students were making appointments to see them, usually together. The two made a great team for that, as the troubled person would get a unique male and female perspective of the issue without the usual conflict one would expect. CC became a popular team outside the counseling, as well. Both had won strong respect throughout the school. Their reputation for being an unbiased and useful sounding board got even stronger after the senior retreat. The school mandated retreat was designed as an attempt to solidify the senior class, making the members closer so they had a peer network after graduation. The three first years worked at first, but the bindings faded by Christmas.



This year, the pair known as CC were called upon frequently throughout the retreat to get talks rolling. Whenever an emotional wound was opened during the weekend, CC seemed to be there to pick up the pieces. They were instrumental in repairing several rifts between former friends, and by all accounts, this year's retreat was regarded as the best.



That said, neither attended Homecoming this last year of their high school days. Neither was asked. Partly, because word got around about what happened after prom last year, but most of the reason was that it was generally assumed that the two would go together. Chris followed his vow and just didn't feel like asking her. Both parties somehow didn't feel rejected by not going, they just did their own thing at home instead.



Track that spring was interesting. Out of the blue, two additional coaches who were Catholic alumni volunteered to help with the team. Chris later found out that there were only five 5-star rated high school track coaches in the country. That year, Catholic had three of them. One approached him and asked him to run the 400 open. Chris told him that the last time he ran it, his time was 63 seconds. The coach told him to try sprinting from the start and hold on until the end. Chris did, and by districts, his time was close to competing for a state spot in the individual 400. Christine said she wanted to see him run at districts, but then her recitals got scheduled for the same Saturday.



Chris appeared from the doorway just as Christine finished strolling down "memory lane." She got a pensive look on her face and said, "so, Mary, huh?"



Chris chuckled. "Yeah, well, I heard you accepted an invite from Mark to Prom, so I asked her."



"I did. Why are you laughing?"



Chris finished drying his hair and plopped down next to Christine in her bed, wearing the fresh shorts and t-shirt he brought in his bag. "Well, I got a text from her this morning before we left on the bus. It said that her friends noticed I was getting too possessive, and she didn't think it would be a good idea to go with me to Prom."



She started giggling. "You? Possessive? No!"



"I know, right? I only called her once to find out what she was wearing so I could get my tux ordered tomorrow." He looked at his watch. "I mean later today."



Christine nudged him. "I was joking. You can get possessive...and jealous. But, you're right, I don't recall you getting that way about her. That's odd."



He sighed. "Yeah. Well, guess I'm free for the rest of the day now, so I can stay up as long as you need. What was the important question you wanted to ask me?"



Christine took in a couple of deep breaths, trying to decide how best to approach things. She settled on the direct approach. "Chris, we can ask each other anything now, and we don't have to worry what the response is, right?"

<hr pg="9" />The smile dropped off his face. "Sure, C. Anything...I promise I'll be civil, no matter what."



"Good. Why aren't we a couple?"



The look on his face could have been placed in the dictionary next to the word "surprise." "Wow, uh...man, this usually leads us to a fight. Where's this coming from?"



"Please, I don't want to fight this time."



He could read the sincerity in her eyes. "Okay. Neither do I. But, what brought you to that question?"



"Sarah asked me that when she found out we weren't going to Prom together. I couldn't come up with an answer. Can you?"



He closed his eyes, coming up with an easy way to put his thoughts into words. "When I last headed this way, you told me that you weren't mine and I couldn't have you. It broke me, but I didn't want to lose you completely, so I did my best to be friendly to you. I'm glad that last prom, things healed between us, but I knew better than to approach it again. I figured you could never think of me that way." Despite his intentional gentle tone, he saw tears well up in her eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to upset you...you asked, and..."



"I know! I know I asked...It's just...that's not true. I'm not crying because of what you said. It's because...I think now I screwed us both up by going off like that. I don't know why I did. I think about you every day. I don't know what I'd do without one of your nightly text messages..."



"But you never replied to any of them. Why?"



"It was just our thing, I guess. You send it, I smile and go to sleep happy. Stupid, I guess."



He reached over and hugged her. "No, that's how I hoped it worked."



"I'm sorry I was so mean to you," she said into his shoulder. "Please tell me you'll forgive me."



"C, it was forgiven at the party when we talked for so long. It was almost forgotten until just now."



She looked up at him and whispered, "thank you."



He wrinkled his nose in annoyance that she felt she had to thank him for something that was natural to him. "No sweat. But, it doesn't feel like that's all to what you wanted tonight."



She sighed and sat back. "Would you go to Prom with me?"



"Um, what about Mark?"



"It's funny that you got dumped this morning."



"Not really, but okay?"



"Well, what I mean is I got a text from him last night, saying he found someone else to go with."



"Oh. I'm sorry. Is that all he said? What a dick."



"Yeah, well...but I'm over that. Before you answer, I want you to know that I want this last dance to be special. I want to go as more than friends."



"Are you saying you want to go as my girlfriend?"



"Yes?" she half-said, half-asked in a very small voice.



"So, to be clear...you want to change our..."



She couldn't hold it in any longer. "Chris, I love you. I think I've loved you all along and just didn't...I don't know...notice, I guess. I'm praying now that I'm not alone in this."



"No...you're not. I feel the same way. I just...either I didn't want to chance killing our friendship, or you didn't seem to want to go further than friends."



"Oh, but I do. I didn't think so before, but now I do. So, if you're willing, let's do this. Let's go with our guard down and trust each other completely for the night. We'll make a pact that if for some reason unseen now it doesn't work out, we'll talk each other down gently after it's over, okay?"



"Sounds like a plan. I accept."



"So, you'll take me to Prom?"



He grinned slightly. "I don't know...what if you meet some piano stud before then?"



"Shut up! Don't do that! Please don't mock me, I already said I was sorry. Prom's in only two weeks. Besides, I already found him." She put her head on his shoulder.



"Aww...thanks. Wait! Oh no...."



"What is it?" she asked, suddenly worried.



"State's in two weeks. I can't go...oh crap." He frowned in a manner that she knew he was torn.



"Well then I'll go with you to State."



"No, I don't want you to give up your Prom."



"Well, how many are going to State?"



"12 guys, 9 girls from our team. Oh God, I don't know what to do."



She came up with an idea. "On Monday morning, we'll go to Sister Collins. With that many going, I'm sure she'll push back the dance."



"We'll see. I hope so. So, in this new phase, what are we supposed to do now? Do I kiss you?"



She gave him a light slap on his arm. "Don't push it. We'll do what feels natural when it comes, okay? Just hold me right now."



Early Monday morning, the two knocked on their principal's door frame. "CC! Come in! What can I do for you two?" Sister Collins asked cordially.



Chris answered, "Sister, uh, the track team did well at districts and a number of us are going to the State Finals."



"Yes, I heard. Congratulations!"



Christine piped up, "Yes, well their meet is the same day as Senior Prom and we were hoping that the dance could be postponed until the following Saturday?"



"Oh, I see. I hadn't considered that."



Chris couldn't help but make an underhanded mumble, "hmph...always the red headed stepchild of sports here."



The principal looked at him sternly. "You think so? At 92 members, the track team is the largest sport here at the school."



He sighed. "Yeah, I know, but if it weren't for Wendy's mom, we'd also have the worst equipment in the state. Mike wouldn't be going if she hadn't bought him a new flex pole, the field guys and girls would be embarrassed at the competitions if she didn't get them new shot puts and discus. With her support, and the hard-driving teamwork of this team, by my calculations, we have an outside shot at winning this meet, at least the guys do. The girls might be a stretch, they'd have to win all the running events they qualified for, but they deserve to go to both events as well."



"Your point is well taken. I wouldn't want any junior or senior student have to choose between the last dance and representing the school. Besides, I've already taken care of your request."



There was a knock at the door. Meghan and the rest of the senior state qualifiers were in the hallway. "Oh, CC...you're already here."



Sister Collins answered for them, "yes, they've been championing your plea to move Prom back. The faculty hadn't realized the track team was so strong this year. An error in judgment Chris here pointed out. I'll make an announcement this morning saying that Prom will be postponed so that you all can attend both events. Congratulations on your success and good luck at the meet."



There was a collective sigh of relief from the group and each took turns hugging the nun, thanking her.



After the group left, Christine had a request, "Sister, I was wondering if I may have permission to leave school with the team that Friday."



The nun looked at them both. "Normally I'd say you'd have to find your own way after school. But, given both of your contributions to your class and this school, I'll allow it. You've both been so good at leading your class in the right direction. Tell me, why didn't either of you run for student council all these years?"



"Oh, I don't think I would have won any position," said Chris.



"I was too busy with piano and violin," replied Christine.



"Well, you two would have won this year's election hands down, I think. Anyway, thanks for coming in to talk with me."



They both thanked her and left. With the busy end of the school year, homeroom period was extended that day for the amount of information the in-school TV had to cover. The student anchor, who was a talented sophomore, ran through the list of announcements. A good portion of which were directed at seniors. Cap and gown orders were next week, money for the Disney Grad Night trip was due Friday, graduation portraits were this Wednesday. There were reminders about graduation rehearsals for those from the lower classes who were asked to participate. Near the end of the newscast, Sister Collins appeared to congratulate the boys and girls track and field teams for sweeping districts. She announced that Senior Prom was pushed back one week to allow the state qualifiers to attend both events, and she asked the school to wish them luck at the state championships. Junior Prom, which was newly separate from the seniors' this year, as that class was considerably bigger, would remain on it's original date for this weekend.



CC ate their lunches together that week as usual, and because they adhered to the PDA (Public Display of Affection) ban, very few in the school detected their status change. Track practices were considerably smaller, since the only ones left were the state finalists and one alternate for each of the four relay teams. The 24 were the first to notice something was different when Christine waited for Chris after school and sat on the rusted out stands to watch the practice. Every team member was incredibly focused, mainly because the three coaches changed the drills for State. One time the quirky head coach pulled Chris' relay team over to yell at them after running 300 meter sprints. Christine heard him go on that the rest of the team was beating Chris by a second and a half in the 300, but Chris was beating them in the open 400 by 2. He demanded to know why Chris was running the last 100 almost 4 seconds faster. 



Later in the week, it was Chris' turn to be embarrassed. He was not a quick sprinter, but his long legs would carry him through the second half of the race. The coaches wanted to change that slightly. Christine felt bad for him, because they had a goal of 25 seconds on the 200 drill. He kept hitting 28. The others could stop running the drill, but after three to five minutes of rest, the coaches had him line up to run it again. Seven times, seven 28 second finishes. She was surprised that his times weren't getting worse, but being at the end of the season, he was incredibly in shape. On his last attempt, everyone noticed he changed the way he ran. As soon as he started, he was screaming. All the way around half the track, he tore through his steps, the guttural yell streaking by. He paced around to cool down after he finished, and the coaches announced they all had the same time...23.5 seconds. It was not the fastest by any stretch, but impressive to shave that much time off a personal best. The whole team went to give him high fives. Christine came from her perch and gave him a hug. The others started quipping in good-nature, "PDA! PDA!" She smiled around him and flipped them a bird from behind his back.



A light maintenance practice was held that Saturday morning, scheduled to afford the juniors on the team time to get ready for their dance. Chris got home and asked his mom for some money to take Christine out to dinner that night.



"What's Mary going to say about that?" she asked.



"Mary? Oh yeah, well Mary called the prom off with me."



"So, who are you taking next week?"



"I'm taking Christine the week after next. Next week is state, so they pushed back the dance. Didn't I tell you all this?"



"No, you've barely been home the last couple of weeks."



"Oh. Well, you know at least that I made the state finals, right?"



"You did?"



"Yeah, that sounds like it surprised you. I've gotten better since the last time you saw me run."



She handed him some money. "Good, I'm happy for you!" Then she went back to grading her class' papers.



He rolled his eyes and got ready to go to Christine's. They had already planned to pick out his tuxedo that afternoon, so when he tapped on her window, Christine was waiting for him. 



When the clerk approached them in the store, Christine took over the ordering. She picked out a jacket with short tails, and Chris objected saying that nobody wears tails to Prom. She elbowed him, said this was HER night, and thought they would look nice in the photos. He remained silent about the selections after that, letting himself be taken for the ride. The deposit was half the rental price and Chris' jaw dropped when the clerk asked for $110. Christine pulled out her parents' credit card they gave her and paid the deposit.



They left and Chris argued, "I'd have paid it, it just shocked me is all."



"Well, you can pay the rest, then."



"You shouldn't have to pay my deposit, though."



"Look, it's my 18th birthday present."



"What do you mean?"



"My parents asked me what I wanted for my 18th in February and I told them I'll decide later. When you agreed to take me to prom, I told them that for my present, I wanted the prom of my dreams. So, they told me to use this card for whatever I wanted, provided it relates to that night."



He gulped. "Geez, no pressure or anything...prom of your dreams?"



She bumped him with her shoulder as they were walking. "Relax, you're already playing your part perfectly. So, where to now?"



"Well, I thought I'd take you to Coach 'N Four."



Her eyes opened wide. "Um, you do know that tonight is the Junior Prom, not ours, right?"



"Yeah, but I thought I'd take you somewhere nice now, while we don't have to worry about time, or getting something on our formals."



Her face beamed and she almost pranced beside him on the way to his car. "See, you're playing it perfectly!"



He drove them to the upscale steakhouse, and they ended up waiting for a table along with a couple of nicely dressed juniors from their school and made small talk with them until their tables opened up. At dinner, they chatted about events from their past, what brought them to this point, and plans for the dance coming up. For the first time since fifth grade, both were excited and slightly nervous about the event. They took their time with their meal, enjoying each other's company. The mood dipped slightly at dessert, when they started talking about college. Both got accepted to the schools they applied for, but they never thought to find out which the other applied to. It turned out that there were no matches, and Christine said she didn't want to think about that anymore right now.



It was a nice evening, and Christine suggested they go out to the beach, since they were only in polos and jeans anyway. They left their shoes in the car and strolled the shoreline. She was happy when he picked up her hand after a little while. When the sun went down, they sat near the water's edge. He maneuvered so that she was between his legs and he snuggled up behind her, sometimes resting his chin on her shoulder. He held her as they sat, talking about whatever floated through their mind, while watching the moon's reflection sparkle in the small waves. They never kissed, and he didn't move to that end that night either, but still, to this day, it was her favorite memory of the two of them together.

