TITLE    : Two Hearts Stand Alone Pt. 03
STORYID  : two-hearts-stand-alone-pt-03
SUMMARY  : Chris and Christine are trapped.
AUTHOR   : photodad@lit
DATE     : 2010-07-02
CATEGORY : adult-romance
FLAGS    : h
TAGS     : |friends|prom|18-year-old|romantic|novel|softcore|love|long story|relationship|tragedy|


<i>Author's note:



Thank you for the kind words on Part 2. Apologies for the severe cliffhanger, but I hope it will be worth the wait to see what happens.



If you're finding this for the first time, word of warning: long story. There is not a whole lot of erotic activity in this one. If you're trolling for quick get-me-offs, this isn't for you. If you like involved stories, please read parts 1 &amp; 2 first.



All physically involved characters are 18.



Please remember to rate at the end. If you haven't rated on parts 1 &amp; 2, please do so. 5's are appreciated if warranted.



Thank you!</i>



***



Tom was watching TV with his roommates a few hours later, waiting for his girlfriend to get off work. Suddenly, the national news appeared in the middle of a punch line with a graphic displaying "Breaking News."



He was upset that one of his favorite reruns was being interrupted this late at night. "Oh what now? Did Russia invade China or something?" His roommate laughed.



The newscaster appeared. "There's a developing story from Northwest Florida. A rare deadly nighttime tornado has touched down, demolishing a new golf resort and damaging several houses. We turn now to our local affiliate who is on the scene."



Tom's blood ran cold. "Turn it up, man...that's near where I live." His roommate pressed the button just as the reporter who was covering the story appeared.



He was obviously still working on gaining his composure. He explained that he was in the parking lot of the new golf resort and that the only thing authorities were allowing him to show right now was the scene of the cars that had been tossed around like toys. The cars belonged to seniors attending their last prom, and that was the big story. Rescue work was moving slowly due to the unstable debris, but 13 bodies had been found so far. He reiterated that workers were still hopeful they would find survivors, but rescue officials figured that loud music may have prevented anyone from knowing what was coming, let alone find a safer place. The search was concentrated on the ballroom, as that was where the dance was being held. A quick check of the rest of the complex was performed, but it was assumed that it was unoccupied. As a side note, the tornado was losing steam when it reached a recently finished subdivision on the far side of the course. Therefore, only moderate damage with five injuries were being reported from that area. The reporter recapped the story, promising updates later.



Tom's roommate commented, "Prom, now? Kinda late in the year for a dance, isn't it?"



Tom's mind was racing. His mom had mentioned a couple of weeks ago that Christine's prom was pushed back because of the track state finals. No way...she couldn't be there. Or could she?



Just then, his cell phone rang. "Hello?"



"Tom! Have you heard from her tonight?"



"No, Mom. I just saw something on the news. What's going on? Christine wasn't there was she?"



"YES!" his mom cried.



"Okay...where's Dad?"



"Sister Collins called about an hour ago to tell us before we heard it on the news. He left right away to help search and tend to the injured...if there are any." The meaning of what she just said crashed on her and she broke down into sobs.



"Mom, you're not alone there, are you?"



"No, Nancy and Mary just got here," she managed to say.



"Okay. Try and keep calm. Who did she go with tonight?"



"Chris."



"Zehyr?"



"Yes."



"Then I'm sure she's okay, Mom. As much as I joked about not liking him, I know that he wouldn't let anything happen to her. Besides, Christine is a strong girl. Just try to keep your hopes up. I'm coming home."



"How?"



"I'll use my emergency card and catch the next flight out later this morning. I'll drive if I have to, but either way, I'll be there by the afternoon."



"Alright, thanks Tom."



"Don't worry, they'll find her."



"I hope so."



His long-time girlfriend got in shortly after. He told her what he knew, and the two set about finding a flight. She called every airline she could think of while he searched the Internet.



The hours clipped by, and every once in a while, there was a recap and update on the TV about the tragedy. Every time a reporter came on, the death toll increased. Tom was starting to go out of his mind...it seemed that no flights were open. Jill wasn't having much luck on the phone, either.



At dawn, there was a new report, now on a national cable news channel. The crew drove all night from Atlanta to cover the heartbreaking story on location. They reported that the ballroom area search had finished up, and the ugly task of removing debris to recover the trapped and lifeless bodies had begun. An off-camera interview with the sheriff and principal of the school revealed that nearly the entire senior class had perished under the collapsed building. A frantic search of the golf course was on for two unaccounted-for seniors. The parents had been contacted, and informed authorities that they still had not seen the two. A car matching the description of the one they drove to the event was not found among the pile of scrapped vehicles. The sheriff's department released a photo of the couple given to them by the distraught event photographer. It was explained that the photo being displayed was picked by the couple for their package only two hours before the disaster.



Tom's heart fell through the report, even as Jill held him. 



Then, the photo was aired. Together they exclaimed, "Oh my GOD!"



Tom looked up at the ceiling and said, "please, please let them be somewhere else...safe."



"There's still hope," Jill whispered. "But, I'm thinking the flight situation has failed. There's a standby in Tampa at 11. And an open seat in Orlando at 3 this afternoon."



"That's what I found, too." Tom jumped up and grabbed the bag Jill packed for him when she took a break a couple of hours ago. "I gotta go. I can drive there faster than those flights will arrive."



Jill agreed, gave him a quick hug and kiss, then wished him luck as he rushed out the door.



He was just outside Jacksonville when Tom called his mom. "Hey, I'm on my way. I should be there by three."



"What flight?"



"No, I'm driving. Any more news? The radio stations keep saying the same thing, that Christine is still missing with her date."



"No. I don't understand why they left, and more so, why haven't they at least called?"



"Are they at least looking for his car? The popular thing he did with dates in the past was either bowling or the beach."



"Well, they're looking for his dad's car. They've checked those two places, since that was his mom's idea as well, and they haven't found anything. They're driving to all the hotels now to check those lots."



"I think that's a waste of time. They wouldn't shack up like that."



"You sure? You haven't seen them together the last couple of weeks. Things had changed between them. I was thinking for the better...but now...I just don't know. On one hand, I'd hate to think they ran off together to some out of the way sleazy motel. But on the other, I kinda hope they did, you know? I feel sorry for all those other families. What they must be going through."



"Mom, it's no picnic for us, or Chris' parents, either. We don't know WHAT happened. I just hope we find them soon to figure it all out."



"Yes. I know what you mean. Be safe. Oh yeah, the Zehyr's are here now. That way if one of us hears something, the other will know as well."



"Good idea. I'll see you soon." Then, Tom hung up the phone.



Tom chanced speeding tickets a bit and got to his house by two. His mom offered him a sandwich after he and the Zehyr's exchanged brief hellos. Tom refused the food, intent on setting off to attempt to find his sister right away. He got an update from his dad who had just gotten home from the scene. The ballroom debris had been sifted through, and 101 bodies had been recovered. The class, minus Chris and Christine, four teachers, and three event staff members from the club. They would start removing the conference center rubble tomorrow. All the places in the pile where a hollow big enough for a person might have existed had been swept over with police dogs as well as where the restrooms were, and it was determined that no one else was inside.



Tom listened to his dad's report, then turned to the two inside dogs. "Lady! Pepper! Let's go!" The dogs jumped up and followed him out of the house.



During the ride home, Tom had run possibilities of where they possibly could be through his head. He kept coming up with one conclusion. If they weren't at the beach, or in her room, they SHOULD still be at the dance. With that hunch, he decided that he would start his search there. Forty minutes later, he pulled into the driveway of the demolished resort. There were large media satellite trucks lining the drive and out onto the street, as everyone wanted a piece of the Prom Tragedy story. He thought to himself that it wouldn't have been as big a story if his sister and her date were dead along with the others. Hell, just before he left with the dogs, one station covering the story had a graphic up asking, Where Are They?



Just before the parking lot, a deputy stopped him and asked why he was there. He explained his relationship to the missing couple, and said he wanted to see the building for himself. The officer radioed his supervisor on the grounds, and Tom heard the reply, "whatever, let him pass. There's nothing here for him to find, anyway." He was waved through, and found a spot away from the tow trucks that were busy removing the tossed around cars. He got out and met another officer at the crime scene tape. He was allowed through, but warned that the pro shop was also in the conference complex, so there were a lot of golf balls scattered around by the twister. Second, he was told that he was not to go near the pile where the buildings stood. It was highly unstable, and something could shift and snap his leg. He agreed to those terms.



Tom could see why this seemed like a hopeless trip for him to the officers. The once-great ballroom stood in sifted piles only about 6 feet high. The two story complex next to it had untouched debris mounds that topped out at a mere 12 feet in a few places. The best way he could describe the building was "flattened." His and Christine's dogs stayed close to his feet.



He got to a midpoint around back of the piles, somewhat out of view of the media back on the parking lot. Sighing heavily he said to himself, "here comes the Hail Mary play." Then he looked down at the canines. "Lady, Pepper, go find CC!"



The two brown and white Shetland Sheepdogs seemed to know what was asked of them, and they split up. Lady started nosing around the ballroom area, while Pepper started off at the far end of the conference complex. Lady was the first to act strange, sniffing and pawing at pieces of debris, especially near the center of where the ballroom once stood, but she kept moving. Tom figured that she could tell that the couple were there, but she couldn't find them. About a half hour went by when Lady sniffed the breeze and took off over the shattered mess of trees littering the course in the tornado's path. Tom thought to go after her, but Pepper was unfazed and kept searching the rubble. A deputy saw the dog fly off and offered to retrieve her. Tom said that Lady would come back on her own, but that the deputy might want to check out what she went after, just in case.



After about 15 minutes, a flurry of excitement started heading in the same direction. Tom thought he heard someone yelling to a camera crew something about a car being found. At about the same time, Pepper did something that made him ignore the buzz. Almost 40 yards directly in front of him, she cocked her ears, sniffed, then disappeared into the pile.



Chapter 13



It was over just as quick as it started. Things got really quiet, save for some lingering groans and creaks. Christine found herself alive, but screaming. It took every ounce of willpower she had to force herself to stop. The table legs were holding, so they combined with the fallen tabletop resting on its middle split to form a protective cage around them. She called Chris' name repeatedly, but didn't get a response. She felt his chest rise and fall beneath her, so she knew he was still alive as well. Christine started screaming for help, stopping what seemed to be hours later only when her voice finally gave out.



She laid still now, fearful any move on her part would shift something the wrong way. When her voice gave out earlier, she tried to explore by touch their surroundings. She had grazed something with her foot when she inched down Chris's body. The nudge resulted in a short series of eerie groans along with crumbles of drywall falling, and that convinced her that the space they were in was tiny, and getting smaller. Her head laid on Chris's chest, and the only sound she could hear, apart from the occasional groan or creak, was his heart. For a couple of hours now, it was a steady hypnotic pulse, but then suddenly the pace quickened. A few of his muscles twitched below her, and a low moan came from in front of her head. The body startled under her weight.



"Christine!" It was more of a call of panic, than a beckoning one.



"Shh. Don't move. Things are still shifting," she whispered. A couple of soft pops punctuated her hushed warning.



"Are we dead?"



"No," she rasped.



"Am I blind? Cuz, I can't see a thing."



"I don't think so. I can see my watch if I turn on its light." This time, her voice was a bit stronger.



Chris finally recognized the voice. "Oh, it is you...I think. You sound different."



"I was yelling for help for a really long time."



"Is this really Christine? Or am I dreaming?" He moved his hands up to touch her face, but they got as far as her hips before they brushed the underside of the collapsed table. So, he brought them towards each other and found her dress. He moved them closer and felt her pelvis, then the beginning of the softness of her behind before hitting the table. "The dress feels the same. A little gritty, but the same...so does the ass."



Christine gave out a deep breath. "Yes it's me. And, yes, that's my ass. I'm pinned against you, so what are you going to do? Molest me?"



"Sorry, I'm just figuring out what's around. I'm so woosie."



"Well, ya. The last thing I saw after you spun me over on top of you was that chair whizzing past and hitting you on the head. It was pretty wet before, so I'm sure you were bleeding, but it seems to have stopped now. What else are you feeling...wrong with yourself that is?"



He inhaled deeply against her weight and mentally ran over his body. "I feel like my back's on fire. I think I pulled something when I moved you. OW! My ankle hurts bad, and I can't move it."



Christine moved her foot over his leg until it stopped against something hard. "I think something is sitting on it. It might be broken."



He grunted as he tested that leg again. "No, don't think it's broken, but maybe sprained and bruised. Speaking of asses, mine's wet...is that rain? Or did we spill all the water?"



He felt her heartbeat quicken against his chest, as well as heat increasing from her face. "No," she said embarrassed. "It's, uh, processed soda...from both of us. You were unconscious, so that happened pretty early and multiple times. I held it until I just got too tired. Sorry."



At first he didn't understand. "What do you mean...ohh. Well, I guess there could be worse things."



"Such as?"



"Well, we could be in a state where we didn't feel anything anymore."



She sighed. "True."



"Any sign of the others? Yells, groans, anything?"



She rolled her head against his chest in the negative. "No. But the floor's been rumbling slightly for the last hour or so."



"What time is it?"



The weight increased on him slightly as she brought her hands over his face and a very faint green glow shown from her eyes for a second. "Six in the morning."



His back was mostly numb from being pressed by her body. He placed his fingers lightly on the ground at his sides and sure enough, he felt what she was talking about. It was very slight, but there definitely was a vibration. "Rumbling," he muttered to himself as he processed it. "Maybe equipment to move this mess?"



"Oh...it could be."



Chris felt around with his right hand until it found what it was looking for. "There it is," he grunted as he shifted under her slightly.



Christine suddenly heard "ping-ping-ping, ping...ping...ping, ping-ping-ping" from behind her. "What are you doing?" she asked.



"Tapping SOS with my ring against the table leg. Who knows, they might hear the higher pitch."



Hours later, the couple still hadn't gotten any result from Chris' attempts to communicate with the outside, aside from the constant ring in their ears. He'd been tapping so long now, it was automatic.



"Oh God! How stupid am I?" he exclaimed.



The sudden outburst startled Christine who had started drifting off. "What?"



"Where's your phone? We could have just flippin' called 911 and told them we're here."



"Give me some credit, Chris. I already thought of that. My clutch is on the other side of the table...probably smashed beyond recognition. Where's yours?"



"I left it in the car."



"Okay, then...don't you think it would be ringing by now? I mean, it's nine in the morning. I think after a thing like this, our parents would be calling to see where we were."



"True."



Christine sighed. "What do you think happened to the others? I mean, at least Sarah saw us leave the ballroom, 'cause I motioned for her to come with us. But she mouthed back one more song. She would have told any rescuers that we were over here."



Chris returned the long sigh. "I really hate to say this, but what do you think? You said yourself, SOMEONE would have thought to look for us here by now. I haven't heard any pops for a while, so I don't think they're moving anything above us."



She whimpered, "so they're dead?"



He stopped his pinging long enough to stroke her hips. It was the best way he could think of to comfort her, since the space wouldn't allow a hug. "I think it's really possible. The ballroom was just one big open space. We had another floor above us, and this table. And, we're left with what? 20 inches of room? Plus, it's pitch black in here, and we haven't heard anything but each other. Not even birds singing. So, yeah, I think they're gone."



Christine sobbed softly. Finally, she managed, "Are we going to die here?"



"Oh, sweetie. Not for a long while. We have some water and food. It should last us a couple of days or so if we're careful. The demolition crew should be moving this rubble long before then. We'll be found."



"If they don't crush us first."



He resumed his pinging. "I didn't think of that. Either way, I can't imagine a better person to leave here with. Dead or alive."



"Me too," she said quietly.



The trapped couple had talked at random off and on about various things, trying their best to keep spirits above despair. Topics ranged from political debates to college choices. 



There was a lull in the conversation, since they were both exhausted, when Chris mentioned offhandedly, "You know, I'm beginning to think that high school dances aren't our thing."



Christine snorted laughter through her nose. "You say the most random things, sometimes."



He laughed with her for a bit before getting serious again. "Really. I mean, have you had a good one yet? I sure haven't."



"I don't know. Tonight, er, LAST night started out perfectly until...you know. I see your point, though. None have been very fulfilling. This one takes the cake, though. I feel like I've been cheated out of something great."



"Well, at least we cheated Death," he said.



"Oh, I'm not sure it was cheating. You seemed to know exactly what to do. Man, if you hadn't picked that lock...how did you know how to do that, anyway?"

<hr pg="2" />He coughed and then cleared his throat. "I, uh, I would get bored waiting for school to start freshman year, so I tried it and it worked."



"You broke into...what? At school?"



He nodded under her, even though she couldn't see it. "Yeah."



"What could you get into?"



"All the classrooms, but the chemistry closet was deadbolted."



"Christopher, I'm so disappointed in you! What all did you take?"



"Nothing."



"You mean to tell me that you got into those rooms and didn't steal anything? I'm not sure I believe you."



"Why would I lie to you? I haven't lied before...about anything."



"Maybe not, but I know you've kept things from me. What aren't you saying?"



"Fine, I did touch something. I turned Mrs. Senna's podium backward."



"Christopher! That was you? We just thought she was nuts for accusing us that morning. Everyone just knew she did it the afternoon before and forgot."



It endeared him that she would use his full first name whenever she was cross with him. He was about to retort it, but instead hushed her with a "SHH!"



They listened and heard small scratching noises above them. Chris checked to make sure his hand was still pinging their distress call, and it was. He had been doing it so long that he tuned the noise out. Suddenly, they heard a muffled bark.



"That kind of sounded like Pepper," he remarked to Christine. 



Together, they started calling Pepper's name. The bark came again, this time it was louder. They stopped calling out, hoping to hear a voice behind the bark. About 15 minutes passed until they heard panting, followed by a whine, and then a sharp bark right at their heads.



Christine asked out loud, "Pepper, is that you?"



Although they were burning up from still being in their formal jackets with very little air circulating, the moist hot breath washing over her face was a welcome thing. The dog barked then licked her face.



"Oh my God, Pepper! Way to go!" Christine could hardly contain herself. She reached out and petted her dog's head that was now busily licking Chris' face. While she was happy that her dog found her, she knew Pepper had to return so the right people would come for them. She lowered her head, took out her barrette and clipped it to the inside of Pepper's collar. "Pepper, sweetie, take this back to whomever brought you. Understand?"



Pepper whined a bit, but then responded with two short barks and made her way back from where she came. They could hear her nails scratching around as she picked her way through tiny spaces in the debris. It was about 20 minutes before they couldn't hear the dog anymore.



* * *



Tom was on the phone with his dad while he waited for the dogs to return. "Yeah, Dad, the deputy just returned Lady. So, I was calling to tell you they found Chris's dad's car."



"How? Where did they find it?"



"The deputy who chased after her told me that Lady stopped at a water hazard and was pawing a gray flannel blanket on the shore, and she was looking back at him. He said it was like she was trying to tell him that she found what he was looking for. Something caught his eye in the water surface, and it turned out to be a corner of the bumper sticking up. I really think they're still here somewhere, Dad."



"Maybe in the car?"



"No, the officer dove in to look. The windows were all busted out, but no one was inside. They said that they called for a diver to check the bottom of the pond."



"Where's Pepper?"



"She disappeared into the pile a little over an hour ago. Oh wait, hang on a second...I think I see her crawling out of the top."



Dr. Barron heard some thumps as Tom put the phone down in the grass, and Tom was calling for Pepper. There were some excited shouts from Tom and a minute went by before he came back on the line. "What's going on?" he asked his son.



"Y'all better get down here. She's wearing Christine's barrette on her collar! I gotta go. See you when you get here." And then Tom hung up.



Tom dashed over to the sheriff who was preparing to make the announcement in a few minutes to the media about finding the car. He showed him what her dog found.



"They're alive...at least one of them is, anyway. This is Christine's barrette."



"Son, your dog might have snagged on a barrette on its way through the rubble. It could be anyone's. You'll see tomorrow when they bulldoze the pile that there is no one there."



Tom protested. "This was deliberately placed on Pepper's collar."



"And how exactly do you know that?"



"Because she came out with it clipped on her collar from the INSIDE."



The sheriff thought about this and told his assistant to push back the press conference a half hour. Then he made some radio calls.



The last of the daylight was fading when the two families were allowed through the checkpoint, their vehicles swarmed by media crews. Tom was near what used to be the entrance to the conference center, waiting to greet them. The families embraced him just as two medical helicopters were landing on the grass on the far side of what used to be the building. The whole area was ablaze with flashing strobes of countless emergency vehicles that were recalled to the scene.



"What's going on?" Chris' dad shouted over the noise of the engines winding down.



"We think at least one of them is alive," stated Tom. As he lead them to the command tent that was hastily set back up, he went on to explain that the sheriff called in ultra sensitive listening equipment. Nothing could be heard on headphones, but a scope displayed spikes. "The spikes on the graph are kinda noisy, as things are shifting around still, but it looks like a pattern in between."



They arrived at the tent and Tom asked if they had found anything else. The equipment operator said that the pattern was in threes, and he showed them a graph. Christine's dad looked at it and gasped.



"It's Morse code. Three quick, three slow, three quick." He looked at the sheriff, who drew a blank. "Oh man, you of all people should remember that from early sheriff's school, or whatever they trained you in. Translated, three dots, three dashes, three dots...it keeps repeating."



The operator was ex-military and he slapped his head. "Why didn't I see that? SOS. Someone is definitely in there, sheriff."



Tom spoke up, "that's gotta be Chris. Christine would just be screaming, she wouldn't think of that."



A rather long discussion ensued as the parties tried to agree on what to do next. One plan to rush and start uncovering them was nixed, because things appeared to be unstable, as evidenced by the noise on the scope. The last thing they wanted to do was press their luck and cause a further collapse. A second problem was that they really couldn't tell exactly where they were, as it was assumed Pepper had to take a rather complicated route, judging by the length of time round trip. Also, whatever was causing the spikes was echoing off the debris, and they couldn't get a fix that way either. Tom came up with an idea, and he said he would need a glowstick, pen, and small notepad. A deputy gathered the items from his car and handed them over.



Tom wrote, "It's Tom. Who's there and what is your status?" He flipped the cover back over, tucked the pen and pad between Pepper's collar and her neck on one side, and the activated glowstick on the other. "Pepper, take these to CC," he commanded, and the small sheepdog ran back to the pile. This was almost a game to her.



The trapped couple were discussing part of each other's bios that were read at the start of the dance. Christine asked, "so you made it to the organ national quarter finals sophomore year?"



"Yeah, I thought you knew that. I mean, seeing that I had to beat out your brother to do it."



"No, he didn't say anything...just that it was fun and more like a recital than anything else."



"Well, it was a competition. No wonder he didn't like me being with you after prom last year. He's still mad that I made it and he didn't?"



"I don't know. So how was the finals?"



"Well, I had to go to the music store and play the piece on their display organ, using a floppy disk to record it. I kept messing up, and I recorded it over and over. Finally I gave up. When I went to fill out the form, the manager asked what track I should put down as the entry. Ugh, I didn't know I could have recorded 9 different tracks and submitted the best one."



"So did you go back to redo it then?"



"Heck no. I played the same thing over and over for an hour and a half...I was tired, and resigned myself to the fact that I'm not good enough to compete nationally."



"Why do you say that?"



"Because I'm not. The only reason I won regionals and Tom came in second was that I had to change the sounds of the organ manually by using the macro buttons while I played. Tom's sounds, drum tempo and volume were all preprogramed and run automatically from his disk. If you go past the technology part, he played better than I did."



"Says you. Mmm...now I have something to rub Tom's nose in, if we get out. Someone was finally better than him at music."



The conversation was cut short when they heard some scrambling again.



"Hey Pepper!" she greeted, and gave her dog a welcoming shag on the head. "What do you have here?" She asked as she dislodged the items from her collar. Chris grunted a little, then coughed as her weight shifted to read the notebook. "I'm sorry sweetie. I must be getting heavy."



Chris coughed a little more. "You're not heavy...it's just getting harder for me to breathe." 



When they weren't talking, she had him hold the glowstick with his teeth while she wrote on the pad. They discussed what needed to be said for a few minutes in between her writing. Meanwhile, Pepper sniffed Chris' head, and licked the scratch under his hair. When Christine was finished, she capped the pen, put it next to Chris' head, folded the notepad back and secured it in Pepper's collar. She gave the dog a few loving pats on the head and told her to go back to Tom.



They listened as the scratching faded away, and Christine took the stick out of Chris' mouth and set it next to the pen. He could finally see her face, even if it was a bit off-color from the faint green glow. 



"Hi," he said lovingly.



"Hi back," she smiled.



"Okay, so I'm not blind after all. You're so pretty."



"No, I'm not...I'm all sweaty and itchy now. I'm so tired, I must be carrying a months worth of baggage under my eyes. I know I'm gross looking."



"Stop. Just stop and take the compliment, would you? You're freaking beautiful."



Even in the dim light, he could see her blush. "Thanks. You're so sweet. I can't say the same about your head, though. That's an ugly bump." She touched it and he winced. "I'm sorry. I wish we had some ice..."



He glanced around the best he could and noticed there were a lot of very small pockets in the debris. It explained how Pepper could get in and out, but there was no way a human could fit. He sighed in relief knowing how lucky they were to find the table in time. Then he looked back at Christine. 



"God, you're beautiful."



"You're usually not so bad looking yourself. But, why do you keep saying it now?"



"Christine, I always thought you were pretty, but we were just friends for so long. I didn't notice how drop-dead you looked before. Why hasn't anyone claimed you yet?"



She sighed while she thought about that. "It's not like guys haven't tried."



He listened to her rehash her story about her freshman year date, and the unwanted advances. She made one change to the story he had already heard, though. Christine revealed that Ben kept trying to look down her dress, and once went so far as to grab her butt while dancing. At the same time, she had felt him try to bunch her dress up to snake his hands inside.



She noticed that Chris' expression turned into one of murder. Worse than that, it sent him into a coughing jag. "Whoa, Chris. That was a long time ago, and I turned into the Ice Princess for him after that. I might be friendly and say hi to him in the hallway, but he definitely got the hint, and hadn't even asked for a date since."



Chris continued his coughing jag, and he didn't say anything in response. His face relaxed some though, and Christine continued by telling him about the guys who had asked her out, but were declined by her.



"So why did you turn them down?"



"There just wasn't a connection, so why waste my time?"



"Hmm...so why did you turn me down for all those dances? We could have gone together for Homecoming last fall. I guess we didn't have a connection either?"



She thought about it for a bit. "I don't know. You didn't ask me, I suppose. There was a connection, but...I don't want to guess out loud. It will sound far worse than the real reason most likely is. I just don't know. Maybe it was timing...maybe it was because you didn't seem interested in me in a romantic way."



"I was, though. I was trying to give you space. You weren't interested yourself?"



She smiled and blushed. "I was. There were long stretches of nights that I dreamed about you."



"So why couldn't I tell?"



"Because, you dope, I was hiding it from you. I just couldn't convince myself that you would think of me in that way." She let her head down slowly on his shoulder, as it was too tiring to hold it up. "Damn it, I was so stupid. I wish we could have read each others' minds then. We wasted so many years."



He turned to kiss her forehead, but stopped short. "What about now? Is there a connection?"



She laughed. "We've been stuck here for almost 20 hours, and talking off and on since you woke up about 16 hours ago. I still don't hate you, so what do you think?"



"You don't hate me. That's good, I guess." He did not sound convinced.



She sighed. "Fine. Come on, Chris...you always have to drag things out of me? If this were a different situation, where it doesn't smell like a sewer, it's cooler, and we could move if we wanted to... Let's face it, I'd be having the time of my life. I hoped for a perfect evening, and right up until whatever it was that kicked me in the gut, you gave better than perfect to me. Things were going even better than I could imagine. I know this is horrible and all. What I mean is that I'm kind of glad we had this time to get to know each other better. And, so far, the more I know...your thoughts, your ideas, your general view of the world...the more I like about you. You've made quite an impression on me the last two days. Sorry for rambling...I think I'm getting delirious." Chris inhaled sharply to give his ribs a little more support. It was something Christine noticed he was doing more and more often. "Oh, jeez. Hang in there honey. I don't think it will be much longer."



He panted for a while, trying to get the gradually increasing pain to go away. It wasn't helping much. Chris coughed some more, then said, "well, I think you've made more of an impression on me. Literally. Anyway, I've liked spending this time with you, too. After all the times we've talked, we still can find something worthy to pass the time with. Can you do me a favor now?"



She got a cute wicked grin on her face. "That depends. My arms won't go lower than my shoulders, and yours won't go higher than our thighs."



He smiled. "No, nothing like that. I just want to kiss you so bad right now."



Her face lit up. "Mmm, that I can do."



She proceeded to shift slightly so that their heads were even, and they made out gently in the cozy, if a little eerie, light.



Outside in the twilight, portable lights had been set back up, and the contractors who built the structure had been summoned to assist in the new rescue effort. Camera crews were being kept at bay by the authorities, but their lenses found the families, and any moves by them were keenly watched. 



The sheriff made a stunning announcement to the media just after Pepper was sent back in. Holding Christine's barrette in the air, he triumphantly stated that "We've found them!" He cautioned everyone watching that it was unknown if both were alive. He explained how a Morse code SOS was found, and concluded that at least one was still alive. The sheriff warned that the rescue would be an all-night effort, as the work would be slow and tedious, due the shifting debris. Even more so than the ballroom last night. That was easier, since it had been a single open space. With where it was suspected the two were, the teams had to contend with the extra work of the second floor debris.



He went on to say that experts had advised previously that it was unlikely a space large enough to fit a human existed. But in defense of those experts, and ultimately his own ass, he revealed that Pepper, Christine's, dog returned from her first trip in the pile covered in drywall dust and insulation bits, and that "hundreds" of scratches were found on her body after she found a way through. There was a consensus that any path she might have found barely had enough room for her to squeeze through. He concluded the conference by informing everyone that Pepper was sent back in with a notepad and pen as an attempt to establish a communication link.



The team was poring over blueprints, trying to determine where to start looking for a rescue. A decision was made that they would start over where the bathrooms once stood, as that was the most likely place someone would go during a dance. Also, the sharp spikes on the scope suggested something banging on a pipe. Orders were given to move the crane near that area, and the crews started walking to the spot.



Tom called out, "wait! There's Pepper!"



The families and rescuers crowded around as Tom retrieved the small book from the dog's collar and flipped open the notepad. He exhaled a huge sigh of relief when he saw the writing. It was sloppy and shaky, but it was definitely Christine's. He read what she wrote aloud.



"Tom. Thanks for finding us! I'll write short, I'm crushing Chris by doing this. 



1.We're both here.



2.We're both alive. 



3.Please come get us. 



4.Please come slowly, things are moving lots again! 



5.Don't crush us! See #4. 



6.We have some time. 1 bottle water left, ½ sandwich left. 



7.Chris says to tell you we're in a breakroom, 1st floor, about 100 ft. past the girls' room from the gym. 



8.Girls room...we have a wet cleanup on aisle 1. :) 



9.I'm ok. Chris -- bumped head hard. Ankle hurts bad, not broken, stuck under something, tho. Starting to cough a lot. 



10.O Ya, we're under a broken table."



Tom's voice cracked a couple of times while reading, especially when he got to her humorous comment on numbers 3 and 8. Once he was done, both families were sobbing from overwhelming relief. 



"At least she sounds like she's in good spirits. Good enough to draw a smiley face about using the bathroom, anyway," Nancy finally managed between heavy sobs.



After staring into space in disbelief for a moment, the workers ran back to the tent to rethink their plan. At first, there was a debate as to what gym she was talking about. There was a workout room on the first floor. Tom stepped in after hearing the argument.



"No, she's talking about the ballroom, I'm pretty sure. She writing things abbreviated, and she probably was thinking of it like the gym at school. Besides, is there a break room, worker's lounge, eating area for meetings?"



The word lounge rang bells, and a room next to a golf instructor's office was pointed out. So they now had a better and worse starting point. Better because the blueprints showed a large a/c unit on the roof directly above the described room. If they find that unit, near where it should be, the teens should be underneath it. It was also worse, because it was farther to the inside of the building than they thought, and because the room they were in was under such a heavy piece of equipment. There was a utility closet and a media room on the floor above them, and the design made for a lot of walls. There would be a lot of furniture, building material and cables to remove to reach them.

<hr pg="3" />The attempt didn't get started until 8, nearly two hours after Christine's information was read. It was decided that the best way to start clearing debris was from the top. But it also meant zero weight could be placed on any of the pile, for fear of further collapse. "Cherry picker" bucket trucks had to be brought in. Four truck-teams from the local power company readily volunteered their services. Smaller pieces of debris were delicately removed, and miraculously, the air conditioner was found exactly where it was expected. The bucket teams worked feverishly to remove things from around the large mechanical device, using their hands and intricate teamwork. 



Chris and Christine later found out that this four truck team was well-known around the region for being the fastest and best team to respond to power network repairs after hurricanes. Having broken several single-day records in regards to number of miles restored, they were usually the first non-local team to respond, and the last to leave a disaster area. 



They worked closely with the rescuers and crane operator to shore up the pile around the a/c unit before attaching the cables for lift-out. With the buckets suspended around the ring to watch for anything shifting, the crane very slowly started winching the heavy piece out. It seemed that no one breathed while the thing was being moved out of the shallow crater. Once clear of the rim, the crane quickly swung it out of the way, and workers started picking their way in by walking gingerly on the pile.



Work progressed and the buckets were positioned to form a chain so debris that was handed up could be passed into a waiting front loader bucket. The tension in the air surrounding the site was about thick enough to cut with a knife. Nerves of the family were raw and made worse when a handheld air horn would blast through the night air, signaling everyone on the pile to get still whenever movement of debris was spotted. At about midnight, a double blast of the horn demanded quiet to see if rescuers could hear the couple. A few seconds went by before a cheer erupted from the crew that was about half way to their goal.



Word came back to the families nearby that rescuers heard a series of quick pings followed by a muffled female voice calling out hellos and thank yous. By two in the morning, it was obvious that the teams were getting close, as debris was being removed at a much faster pace. A news helicopter started circling, banking on being the one to bring viewers the money shot of the two being pulled out.



Tom had kept in mind what Christine had said in her note. He went to the sheriff with his concern that the two keep their dignity. So, as the workers got close to ground level, the four bucket trucks stretched out a large tarp over the crater, blocking the view from the helicopter circling overhead.



The team leader inside the pit was getting confused. They were very close to seeing floor tile, yet there was no sign of a broken table. He pulled out his air horn and gave two short blasts. It got so quiet that crickets seemed to get the hint, too.



"Chris, Christine!" he bellowed. "Where are you?!"



Clear as a bell came Christine's voice, "I think you're standing on us!"



The workers all jumped clear of their standing spot and dove down, flinging drywall, ceiling tiles, office supplies and fluorescent light fixtures off to the side. They all stopped simultaneously when they saw the dark wood grain of a table. 



The leader was standing on the floor beside the table looking at how small it appeared. He was facing the table top sloping towards him. "There's no fucking way they're there," he swore as he moved one more piece. He nearly jumped out of his skin when it cleared.



Christine turned her head at the sudden opening and shouted, "But we are! SURPRISE!!"



The others in the team recovered from their startle and began laughing. At three in the morning, it was a funny sight. The metal table legs next to the teenagers were bowed outward, nearly to the breaking point. It appeared that the table almost wrapped itself over the couple. The space they were in was impossibly small. If either of them weighed just 20 pounds more, it was doubtful they would have survived. Christine's head was directly over Chris', and she was doing her best to support herself on her elbows.



Suddenly, she heard Chris gasp and felt a series of pops under her. "Oh shit! Oh God!" Christine yelled frantically now. "Get us cut out of this mess. I can't hold myself up much longer, and Chris just broke something, I think."



The team leader called for a saw to cut away the table top from the smashed part on the floor. He let out a series of blasts on the air horn, and the rescue teams inside and outside the crater started cheering wildly. Their families hugged each other tightly while they simultaneously laughed and cried. An oxygen mask was brought in and handed to Christine. Still propping her weight up on her elbows, she was able to use her hands to fit the mask over Chris's nose and mouth.



"Just breathe, baby. Almost there." 



She had been getting deeply concerned since she first heard the double blast of the horn nearly three hours ago. Chris wasn't able to call out with her then. He was talking less and less to that point, and now, his chest was heaving, fighting incredibly hard against the pain to keep air moving in and out of his exhausted lungs.



She brushed her hand over his face and past his ear. "Just think. Soon, we'll have fresh clothes and a clean bed to lie in," she coaxed quietly. "I'm trying to keep as much of myself off of you as I can, just hang in there a little longer."



Tears came rolling in her eyes when she saw that all he could do was nod. His body and face were tense with agony, but there was love and caring in his eyes past the fear. It broke her heart.



Chapter 14



The table was cut and lifted off them, and Christine half sprang, half rolled to get off Chris as quickly as she could. Her atrophied muscles prevented a graceful landing, even for the short distance she moved, and she gashed her hand and elbow on some busted light bulbs. Her concern for Chris didn't allow her to even notice. A stretcher was brought in to take her out, but she refused to move until he was free. She shifted to the side and watched the four rescuers work to free his leg and stabilize him. Christine barely noticed a paramedic make his way down inside the hole and treat her cuts.



It was only minutes before his leg was released from a piece of the wall from the second floor, but to Christine it seemed like hours. Nearly unbearable it was to watch him gasp for air like a goldfish that had escaped its glass prison. Freedom at last, but it seemed he would not survive to enjoy it for very long. She put her free hand to her face, and nearly melted down.



Outside the hole, the families' jubilation returned to worry and desperation as crews started racing around. The two helicopters, LifeFlight, and AirHeart, were notified that they would be needed after all. The engines wound up, and the noise left the pair's loved ones even more confused.



Tom assumed the role of liaison for the families and strode over to the fire chief. He yelled above the noise to ask what was going on. The fire chief told him what he knew, and summed up by saying that Chris would be taken to a trauma hospital, and Christine would be airlifted to the other helicopter's home hospital as a precaution.



Tom got irate. "Bullshit! They survived this long by being together, and now you're tearing them apart?! I know Christine won't stand for it!"



There was a heated discussion between the two before the chief relented and went to talk to the AirHeart pilot.



Tom came back to the families to tell them what was happening. "Chris is in serious trouble, and may be dying. Christine's and the table's weight were slowly crushing him. Just before the table was cut off them, they think his ribs broke, putting pressure on his lungs and heart. He's being flown to the trauma center. I convinced the chief to make sure Christine follows him. Would you believe they were going to send them to different hospitals?"



Both families were hoping to get to hug their children, but the tempo to evacuate the two didn't allow it. As soon as a stretcher emerged over the rim of debris, it was rushed to LifeFlight. The strobes from a hundred media cameras lit the place up like a sustained fireworks show. The progress of Christine's stretcher was a bit less urgent, but still a direct path to the AirHeart helicopter. LifeFlight took off as AirHeart's doors were being secured.



A deputy ran over and told them that he would escort them to the hospital. Dr. Barron urged the others to all ride in his Suburban, so they piled in. He followed the deputy through the media crowd and down the streets toward the hospital.



It was close quarters inside the aircraft, and Christine realized why she was told she couldn't ride with Chris. She noticed that the helicopter seemed to stop moving and hovered in one place for a while. After asking the flight nurse huddling over her what was going on, she was told that they were waiting for LifeFlight to unload Chris and clear the roof. She tried to crane her head around to see, but was admonished to lie still. At last, LifeFlight cleared it's home deck and hovered a short distance away to allow AirHeart to unload its passenger and then refuel at the hospital's expense. It was a courtesy the hospitals extended to one another from time to time for favors such as this.



The doors opened, and a hydraulic sled smoothly ejected her stretcher to nurses waiting with a gurney. She was wheeled to the rooftop elevator and lowered to the trauma floor just below. Doctors and nurses descended upon her like rain, roughly cutting her now-ruined fabulous dress open from bust to toe, then gently working to peel it away from the body it glued itself to. Christine couldn't understand the urgency with which the medical teams were working. She didn't feel all that injured. That is until they started cleaning her up. Solutions were doused over her entire person, and thousands of open sores burned her like fire. The treatment quickly continued, including various hands applying ointments all over her naked body. X-rays were taken of her chest, fluids were being pumped through needles that were jabbed quickly into her arms, and then it seemed that someone finally remembered to cover her with a gown. Inside an hour, she was released to a private room.



Both families were already there, waiting for her. There was a small applause from the group as her bed was ushered in. Once the nurses finished arranging IV's and monitoring wires, Christine's family flocked to her bedside. Her mom searched for a way to hug her, but after seeing the bandages peeking out above her chest, she settled to kiss Christine's cheek. The gesture was repeated by her siblings and finally her dad. Christine beckoned Chris's parents to come up and she pecked both of them.



A doctor arrived in short order to tell Christine and her family what her status was. Chris's parents moved to leave the room, but Christine insisted that they stay. The doctor reported that she was in unbelievably good shape, considering what she had been through. Her sternum had a hairline crack from holding much of her mass all that time. Christine's torso and legs were covered in "bed sores," due to lack of movement and perspiration, and there was a considerable diaper rash from her groin to lower abdomen. Additionally, she received stitches to her hand and arm from the glass she rolled onto.



"Have you heard about Chris?" she asked when the doctor finished his report.



"He's in surgery right now. A lung collapsed after his cartilage broke on several of the ribs on his left side. That's all I know."



She looked up at the ceiling and whispered, "I am so sorry, Chris."



The doctor looked at her and said, "don't beat yourself up. I was told that you were laying on him the whole time. Any amount of weight on those ribs would eventually do damage. Yours will be sore for quite a while, so you'll be suffering together."



Chris's mom asked what his chances were, and the doctor responded that they were better than 50/50. If he survives getting his lung repaired, things tend to heal quickly. All they could do is wait and see right now.



The doctor left, and Christine vowed to herself and mentally to Chris that she wouldn't sleep until she knew he was okay for sure. However, that plan failed miserably as the long ordeal teamed up with Demerol to overpower her will, and she slipped into unconsciousness quickly.



Only about two hours later, the dawn started encroaching through the blinds in the window and Christine snapped her eyes open screaming Chris's name. Her oldest sister, Nancy rushed to her side to quiet her. Christine looked around the room and got her bearings, but panicked when she didn't see Chris or his parents there. She started mumbling obscenities to herself, mad that she didn't stay awake. Nancy only barely understood the four letter sewage spewing from Christine's mouth, and hurriedly explained that everyone else had gone to breakfast. Christine's mind was shrouded in fog from the pain medicine and asked why Chris would go eat without her. Nancy laughed lightly at this misunderstanding and further explained that the family went to eat after hearing that Chris made it out of surgery.



The news about Chris's successful surgery only prompted Christine to demand to see him. Even after the rest of her family returned, the only thing Christine would say was that she wanted to see her boyfriend. It was explained to her that doing so was not possible right now since he was recovering in ICU. She didn't care, and she went so far as to gather her wires and tubes and try to get out of the bed. A nurse was called and she was given a sedative. The drug resulted in her being unable to move much more, but this time it did not knock her out. Christine was so angry, her eyes were dark as night and she stared at the ceiling, refusing to speak to anyone.



Late in the afternoon, she overheard someone comment about Chris being in his room. It slipped out when the person was asked where his parents were. Christine got fired up again, despite the best efforts of Tom and her dad to quiet her. Her doctor made rounds and asked if she slept well. Her mom answered for her that she only slept for two hours this morning. He noticed that she was given a sedative earlier in the day and that it had little effect for her sleep.



He misunderstood her symptom, and thought discomfort was keeping her up. He smiled at her and said, "well, a little Morphine and you'll be sleeping like a baby."



That was the last thing she wanted to hear. "Don't put that shit in me! Put me in Chris's room. Now! I swear to God, if you fucking hook that up, I'll stay awake just to spite your ass. You put me in with Chris, and I promise to go to sleep."



Her visitors and doctor were taken aback, but he said it could be that the trauma of everything that happened was altering her personality. She rebutted the statement with another filthy string of venomous statements, insisting on sharing a room with her boyfriend. The doctor was about to put her in her place and flat out refuse, but her dad stopped him and pulled him out into the hallway.



"I think it would be best if we granted her wish," Dr. Barron said.



"Well, I'm sure if she went to your hospital, that could happen. But need I remind you that you don't have privileges here?"



"Maybe not, but how about some professional courtesy? Just ask his parents. If they okay it, what's the harm? These two were pretty much glued together for 30 hours. Any privacy between them is registering pretty far below zero right about now."



The doctor was about to slam the door on the discussion, but then saw the logic. He relented and said that he would discuss things with Chris's parents and the administrator.



Her bed was wheeled into his room about an hour later. Chris was awake, but on a respirator to do the work for his exhausted lungs. His parents noticed that as soon as he saw who was in the bed being wheeled in, his face's tension melted away.



Christine sat up and looked over at him. Her very first words were, "Chris, I love you!"



His eyes smiled at her and he pointed to his eye, then his chest, then to her.



She didn't care anymore about what rules were or what anyone thought of her. Christine gathered up the things hooked up to her, slipped out of her bed, took two steps and climbed in his. Before anyone could say anything, she curled up next to him, and instantly they fell asleep together.



The nurses at first balked at the two being in one bed, telling the family members that both needed their rest. But, the families rebutted that the two were sleeping and didn't show any signs of discomfort. The workers gradually changed their tune during their shifts and would gently tap Christine's shoulder, and quietly explain that it was time to do their checks on them both. Christine would groggily oblige and move to her own bed long enough for the checks to be performed, then would rejoin Chris as soon as they left. While they were taking their long slumber, their families started rotating themselves in shifts to go home and get some much needed sleep themselves.



Christine was the first to wake on her own the next afternoon. Her sister Mary was on shift in her room and marveled that almost 24 hours had passed since the pair started sleeping. Christine returned to her own bed, now that she was fully awake. She figured that her being awake and shifting around would cause him to wake up, too. So, she decided to let him continue sleeping. Mary called her parents to tell them Christine was awake, and they talked quietly while waiting for them to arrive, catching up with each other. But Christine made it known from the beginning that the tragic night would be off limits, at least until Chris was awake and able to talk. Mary noticed that even while Christine was talking about things unrelated, her eyes constantly glanced over to his bed, as if checking on him.



Suddenly they heard him sniff, and then start coughing. Christine mashed her nurse button. A relatively young lady appeared and said that it looked like Chris was ready to come off the respirator. She said he was coughing because his body was strong enough to do its own work, and so was fighting the machine. She called a second nurse in and together they removed the tubing from his throat. He was wide awake when they left and smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, trying to get the funny feeling to go away. Christine got up and went to his bed, picking up his hand and hugging it to her chest.



"Hi," she said.



"Hi back," he rasped.



"Mary, could you give us a minute?"



Mary nodded to Christine and closed the door behind her.



"I wanted to tell you as soon as I could how thankful I am that you saved my life. I know I would be dead with the rest, had I not been with you. Also, I'm in love with you, Chris. It hurts me so bad to know that I almost killed you."



He tried clearing his throat, but it had no effect on his hoarse voice. "And I'm in love with you. Try as you might, you didn't kill me." He chuckled slightly. "Seriously, though, what could have been done differently? If we weren't together under that table, I would have just had some kind of steel, wall, or whatever laying on me. You're much softer. At any rate, you're more fun to talk to than a break room table." They both giggled, then he continued. "Could you do me a favor?"



She smirked. "Heh, that depends on the favor."



"Could you let me see what crushed me?"



She blushed. "Oh, I don't think so...they just removed my bandages during the last rounds. I'm pretty sure you don't want to see all my rashes."

<hr pg="4" />He wasn't deterred. "Please?"



She gave an embarrassed smile and then lifted her gown for him, showing everything she had on the front of her, including hundreds of tiny scabs. "No making fun, okay?"



"Sweet Jesus, I hit the jackpot! You're more perfect than I even fantasized about. Now I can die happy!"



Christine sighed at him and dropped her gown back in place. "You better not! I have too much invested." Then as an afterthought, "really? You fantasize about me? Or is it just my body?"



Chris blushed for once. "Oops, I shouldn't have said that."



She looked at him sideways. "Oh, no, no...it's out of the bag now... you gotta tell."



He rolled his eyes. "Okay, honestly, I didn't. I mean I'd think of you every so often as we were growing up, and I'd wish that you could be my girlfriend...even if I didn't fully know then what that meant. As far as picturing you when I took care of, uh, needs, for some reason that only happened recently."



Christine sat on the edge of his bed, taking his hand and playing with his fingers. "So, what caused you to turn away from porn and on to me?"



He wasn't entirely comfortable talking with his new girlfriend about what he pictures while he masturbates, but then there were very few secrets between them now anyway. So, he squirmed a bit and said, "since last Christmas when I saw you working with the Choir again. That emerald green dress you had matched your eyes perfectly and fell just right over your chest, hips, and butt. I don't know, it was nice to guess what was underneath."



"Mmm, and how close was your guess?



He sighed happily. "It didn't do you justice."



She smiled coyly. "Well, I fantasized about you, too." She let go of his hand and grasped his sheet. "Let's see what you've got!" With that, she flung the sheet up.



He slapped it down out of her hand. "No. Mine is uglier than yours, especially now."



She pouted. "That's not how this game is played. I showed you mine, now you have to show me yours."



He grunted his frustration. Then picked up the sheet for her. "Fine," he growled.



She smiled in anticipation as she reached under his sheet and gently pulled up his gown. "Not fair! They still have you bandaged up!"



He chuckled as she worked the gown higher until she saw the six sutured incisions of where they went in to screw his ribs back together.



She replaced the gown after tracing her fingers lightly over the stiches, and her expression changed to one of pain. "God, I'm so sorry," she whispered.



He dropped the sheet. "Listen, I'll accept your apology if you stop saying you're sorry. It couldn't be helped. Okay?" She nodded and he grasped her hand. "It's okay, really."



She sighed. "So how are you feeling?"



"Hmm, still a little tired, my lungs feel like they're still burning, and my ribs and ankle ache, but I'm much better now that I've seen you. How about you?"



She gave a smile that made the room seem a bit brighter. "So much better after seeing you awake and talking again. But, my chest feels like someone punched it, and I itch like mad all over."



Just then, Mary knocked on the door before bringing in a horde of people. Both families were there, including Chris's uncle and aunt. Sister Collins entered last. There was a long round of gentle hugs, the first to be had since before the dance. Of course the aunt quipped that Christine shouldn't be sitting up on Chris's bed...it might hurt his back. Christine's displeasure of the unwelcomed comment shone only through her eyes' changing color, but otherwise she ignored it and greeted her principal warmly.



After some obligatory really-glad-to-see-you's, and some small talk, the room allowed the nun to say what she came for. She said that an emergency meeting was called for that morning when it was known that Chris and Christine would recover. She came to tell them that it was decided that a small ceremony would be best for graduation, and would be held in the library at the school on the same night it was originally scheduled. The Baccalaureate Mass would be held in the school's chapel about an hour before the ceremony.



Chris was confused. "Why so small? Who decided this?"



Tom muttered, "oh shit, they don't know."



There were looks around the room to see who would be best suited to give them the news. Sister Collins stepped a little closer and sat on the edge of Chris's bed next to Christine.



Right at that moment, a distraught female barged into the room and started shouting at the pair. "What gives you the right to live and my niece not?! What did you do? Abandon them all and leave them to die?!"



Christine stood to defend Chris, physically if needed, then her brother stepped in front of her. Christine said in a calm voice, "I am truly sorry for your loss. I wanted to go back and warn them, but there just wasn't time. The music was too loud, and the building too tight for them to hear. I'm really sorry they are gone."



The nurses came running up and escorted the troubled woman from the room and kept her away until security arrived.



Chris spoke, well more like rasped, for them both to the dumbfounded group in their room, "When we didn't hear any voices at all, we resigned ourselves that all our friends were gone."



Christine closed her eyes, sat back down on the bed and nodded. "A few hours before we were found, we both grieved that fact. It's not pleasant, but also not a surprise."



Chris's mom asked, "Why are you confused, then Chris?"



"Well, you're saying that you're basically canceling graduation."



"We're not canceling it, just making it smaller. We thought it would be easier on you two," their principal said.



"Who's 'we'?" asked Christine.



"The faculty, minus the ones who chaperoned the dance," replied the nun.



Christine saddened with grief and sniffed back a tear. She had forgotten about the dean and three teachers being there.



Chris stroked her back. "Well, I don't know about Christine, but for me, I'd like it if the ceremony went on as planned...except for a few changes on how things are presented, obviously. I think it would provide some closure to the families."



Christine nodded. "I agree."



Chris continued, "What else is canceled?"



"The awards ceremonies, and the senior trip to Grad Night in Orlando."



"I can understand the awards nights, all I was getting was perfect attendence, and that went down the drain today...wait, yesterday?"



"That's not true. Besides, school's out this week, Chris," his dad said.



"It is?"



"Yes, we canceled school this week to give the students time to recover from the shock of losing their schoolmates," answered Sister Collins.



"I see," replied Chris. "Well, I still want the trip to happen, it sounded like fun."



There were a lot of displeased looks in the room, the most severe coming from his mother who said, "that's awfully selfish of you, Chris."



"No, no. You don't understand. Look, get the committee here, and see if any parents want to come and discuss the plans with us. You'll see what I mean then. We are the senior class, now. I think it's only fair to include us in the decisions. You might be pleasantly surprised by what we come up with."



The principal agreed to the meeting, said goodbye and left. The hospital administrator came in the room shortly after, apologizing for the earlier scene. He said that security was keeping the media at bay, but someone was bound to get through. H had requested police officers to stand guard at the room, and they should be on station within the hour. 



After all the hubbub died down, the families found seats where they could with Christine's bed being the popular choice, since she wasn't using it. They all looked expectantly at each other, hoping the topic they were all wanting to hear would be approached, but were afraid to be the heel to ask about it.



Christine's back was getting tired, so she moved to lay down next to Chris, and he stretched out his arm for her head to rest on. He let his hand fall to the center of her chest and she held it there with her opposite hand, idly toying with his well-beaten class ring. That finger still twitched from the hours of tapping it automatically did. Every time it twitched, she massaged it gently between her fingers. She glanced around the room, and could tell what was on everyone's mind. "So who's gonna ask first?"



"Ask what?" said her mom.



She grinned. "What the tornado sounded like, of course!"



The room filled with light laughter as she opened the door to the subject. Nancy braved to ask it, and the couple entertained the attentive group by answering all their questions, and filling in other details. The TV was kept off, as there was no need for it, and the family did not think the two were ready to see rehashes of the experience as the world had seen it. 



The females in the room would occasionally comment on how cute the couple looked together. And each time Christine would beam. His old crone aunt would of course add, "even without makeup and messy hair." At this, Christine's smile would fade, but she kept any untoward comments to herself.



The next day started early when Christine's doctor came in and cleared her release after checking her over. Her doctor was the one making rounds that day, and also looked at Chris. Things were progressing better than expected, and the IV steroids being prescribed to help his lungs heal were discontinued. He said that if everything continued in the direction they were heading, there was no reason Chris couldn't be released the day after tomorrow. Chris asked about the possibility of taking the trip that was originally scheduled for Saturday. Her doctor told him that it was up to him, but no rides. His ribs were secured, but the extra forces of a rough ride could injure him again.



They ate breakfast together, and since they were alone that morning, Chris insisted on repaying the favor Christine did for him under the rubble and he spoon-fed her. She thought it was cute, even if it was time-consuming. They even shared a mouthful of juice in the same unusual way they had come up with while being trapped.



At nine, their parents arrived and were briefed on the doctor's visit. The nurses came in and finished up Christine's stay by removing the IV lead in her wrist. She went into the bathroom to take a shower, and the nurses remained nearby in case she got dizzy and fell. They passed the time by converting her side of the room to a hotel mode, gathering up the IV trees and changing her bed linens.



While she was in the bathroom, the parents turned on the TV and tuned to a cable news channel. Soon enough, there was a story about how the country was anticipating hearing from the rescued Prom Miracles. The story recapped the tragic event, showing video clips of the aftermath from overhead, the sheriff's dramatic announcement with Christine's barrette, and a quick view of Chris's stretcher being rushed to the helicopter. When the segment finished, Chris sighed deeply and turned off the TV.



"How bad is it out there?"



One of the nurses answered, "security turned back two journalists who tried to sneak in."



His dad added, "there were six satellite trucks this morning that we saw."



Chris said, "well, they're gonna have to wait. I won't get released until Friday, at least. When I do, the last thing I'd want is go through a bunch of questions. I'm sure Christine feels the same, if not more."



His mom replied, "That's why we wanted to show you that while she was out of the room. Keep in mind that while your story is a very happy ending, it is a tragic, and horrifying one for over a hundred other families. Please be sensitive to that during this meeting you called."



"Mom, I have only their interests at heart. You'll see what I mean."



"I hope so. Like the story mentioned, the memorial service is tonight, and most of the funerals are scattered throughout the city tomorrow."



"Oh wow. I would have really liked to make some of those." Christine had appeared from the bathroom wearing jeans and a polo that her family had brought. Her wet hair was tied in a pony tail, and she looked like a new woman. Not from just a few minutes ago, but a new person entirely. "But, I just couldn't go without Chris there. He was my entire support through this whole thing. Figuratively and literally. I think I'd collapse without him at my side."



Her mom said, "I'm sure your friends would have understood."



About an hour later, Sister Collins arrived along with the school staff and six of the parents. Carol was one of them. Christine went up to each and hugged them as tight as her chest would allow. The sentiment was sadly given and received. As she hugged each parent, she whispered her condolences sincerely. Tears were shed and it was a healing moment.



There was much discussion and debate during this meeting, but it was kept below the upset threshold. By the end of it, most of what Chris and Christine proposed was accepted, and even thought of as good ideas. The toughest conflict came from the subject of the senior trip. Chris wanted to invite any parents who wanted to participate to go with Chris and Christine on the bus and do whatever the class was scheduled to. Any who opted out would be given a refund. If too many opted out to justify the bus and hotel arrangement, the couple was willing to take a smaller group with them and use the travel and lodging portion of the fees already paid for gas and individual hotel rooms.



It seemed like a sweet gesture, but Wendy's mom and one other debated against the plan, playing devil's advocate to get a grasp of all sides of the subject. It was argued that many parents might feel it would intrude upon the couple's fun. Another point was made that some would feel it was too soon after lives were lost for celebrations. A last minor obstacle was logistics. Most parents were married, and the fees paid were for one person to attend.



Chris and Christine both assured everyone that they not only would tolerate adults coming along, they WANTED them to attend. They felt it would help heal the hurt for themselves and for the grieving parents. Chris asked the principal what she would estimate the extra cost for couples to go instead of one, and the answer was about $100 each, given the group rates they received for all the tickets, the one planned meal a day, and the hotel rooms. As for people feeling this was insensitive, or too soon, Chris proposed that it wouldn't hurt to ask. If an overwhelming portion said no, that was fine, no hurt feelings. They would take the refund and organize a trip themselves, inviting anyone related to the lost classmates to come along.



The proposal was agreed to with a change in departure date, and the parents present in the room suddenly understood why they had heard so much about the couple known as "CC" from their children. Without being asked, they called for a meeting, asking their lost friends' parents to join them for all the graduation events. Not only that, they actually fought harder for it when it was resisted. On their way out, they congratulated the couple's parents on having such thoughtful and insightful children. Christine gave Carol a lingering hug goodbye. Then she followed Sister Collins into the hallway and offered to help work the phones or do anything that might make preparing the trip easier. The nun turned her down, saying that Christine should rest.



The next day was a bit of welcomed down time. Both sets of parents had to return to work, and Christine's siblings had significant others to attend to after leaving them alone for the last few days. To the nurses, it seemed almost abrupt that no one came in that day, but for Chris and Christine, it was just fine. They were together, alone in a clean room and past the fears of what might happen in the next minutes, hours, or days. They watched what the news stations covered of the funerals, as well as a memorial service at the school, where it was reported that the freshmen class planted a tree on the property for each of the lost schoolmates. Christine curled up against Chris's chest and he held her as they watched the more touching footage.



Later in the afternoon, Christine went to look out the window for a change in scenery. "Huh, something's happening," she reported to her boyfriend.



"Why do you say that?"



"There's a lot of media trucks lined up in the parking lot."



"They're for us." He caught her quizzing look. "Oh yeah, you didn't see the story yesterday. They want to interview us when I get released."



Christine pursed her lips and rolled her neck around. "I'm not sure I could go through that."



He looked at her and said, "look deeper into yourself. Remember what I said."



As if a trigger went off, a flood of images washed through her mind. She saw who she was before the storm, and who she is now. Stronger and more confident of herself. Then she heard herself screaming in her mind, back under the table. Chris woke, his face contorted in pain. He got his bearings reset and looked at her, saying gently, "Christine, you're screaming. It's not doing any good." She wouldn't stop, so he told her to relax. He repeated it over and over, softer and softer until her head touched his. "You'll remember everything from this when I tell you to." She played the memory in her thoughts, and when it was done, she found herself standing in the hospital next to Chris.



"You put me in a trance, didn't you?" she asked.



"I tried, yes. You just wouldn't stop screaming. I didn't want you to make yourself sick, or injure that lovely voice of yours."



She sighed. "What else did you make me do?"



He shook his head. "I don't do that. Besides, you remember the whole thing now, don't you?"



She nodded. "I guess so. Oh, it makes me almost sick." She crossed her arms over her stomach.



"What?"



"Seeing you in so much pain when you first woke up. I didn't remember that you woke up, but slipped back unconscious."



"That's interesting. We couldn't see, remember?"



"You're right. I guess I heard it in your voice. But, seriously now. What did you command me to do?"



He looked in her eyes. "You know. You tell me."



She closed her eyes and replayed that part. "You said, 'Christine, you're stronger than this. You always have been. Just remember that whenever you need it, the strength is inside you.'" She opened her eyes and realized that he was right. Christine went over and gave his neck a huge hug. "Thank you for doing this. For giving me that. I love you so much," she whispered.



Forgetting about his ribs, she laid half way onto him. But, he didn't seem to feel any discomfort and they kissed and pecked each other for a long while until a nurse came in and broke them up.



After she left, the two giggled a while at their being "caught." 



Christine changed the subject. "So, now that we've escaped, what do you want to do?"



"Do? I'm pretty sure they would frown on me walking out of here right now."



"No, silly. For a career...what do you see yourself doing?"



Chris looked at the ceiling, thinking about it. "I thought of being a doctor, especially after Grandma died. But, I don't know. I hate math."



"But you're so good at it. Hell, you broke a school record for the highest regular test score."



"Such a potty mouth now."



She blushed. "Sorry, it seems to be a lingering habit from when I was hooked on those drugs last year."



He smiled sympathetically at her. "That's okay...it kind of adds some spice to you. Well anyway, that test was in Chemistry, and I forgot the formula you use to balance equations. I finished the normal test part quick, so I had pretty much the whole period to play with the extra credit questions until it worked out. I got lucky."



"You're smart, and you know it. You're second in the class after me...hrm, I mean even before this..."



"I know...but I'm lazy. I didn't do the first stitch of homework this year."

<hr pg="5" />"Yeah, Chris, you did. You came over and studied with me."



"Yes, but I wasn't studying. Only answering your questions."



Christine thought back and realized that was the truth. Any time "they" were studying, he was on her bed asking her test questions, or answering something she didn't understand. It didn't seem like he actively studied at all. He was that smart, but still finished second. She thought about how that could happen, then she remembered his grades did slip while his grandmother was ill. He got all of 3 B's.



"So, what theme are you making your graduation speech?" she asked, changing the subject again somewhat.



"I don't have the foggiest. I'll probably write it next week."



"Christopher! You haven't started?!"



"No."



"It's like a week and a half away."



"Exactly. That's a week and a half to write one speech."



"No, that's like 4 days you have to write it. You get released tomorrow, we'll both have to spend time with our families, you know that. Then EARLY Monday is the trip, if it is still on. We get back Wednesday morning, and then Friday is Baccalaureate with graduation on Saturday. So, when were you planning to write this?"



He grinned at her. "When I get around to it."



The quip had it's desired effect of getting under Christine's skin. She pinched his arm and exclaimed, "Christopher!!"



"Okay, fine. I was planning on writing it on the bus. We're gonna have 8 hours or so each way."



Christine became authoritative. "Oh, I don't THINK so! You are NOT going to invite all those parents to be with us, and then shaft them on the bus so you can write a speech that no one will remember five minutes after it's over."



"Gee thanks for your vote of confidence."



"You know what I meant. They won't forget YOUR speech. But they will forget the salutatorian's speech."



He smiled at her. "Relax. I know what you meant. You're right, though. No writing on the bus. If it makes you feel better, I have been thinking about it."



She didn't believe him, and raised an eyebrow. "And?"



"We should write and present one together. We are what remains of the senior class. We won't be talking to our friends, giving them encouragement for the world beyond high school. I picture this as a thank you speech to our parents and teachers, and a comfort speech for everyone else."



She got up and grabbed a hospital pen and pad of paper from the nightstand. "I think that's a good idea. How should we start it?"



By the time their parents came to visit for dinner, they had the framework laid out for their entire graduation speech.



After dinner and long past the end of visiting hours announcement over the PA, their parents left, promising to be in tomorrow morning. His doctor had been in, checked him over and said that he anticipated Chris to be released then. He also ordered a brace for Chris' chest and leg to support and protect those healing parts outside the hospital.



The nurse came in as the parents were on their way out to take the ritual vitals. She left and came back carrying two plastic devices. The first looked like a flak jacket, the second resembled a boot that a science fiction soldier would wear. The nurse was young and attractive, as it seemed that all night shift nurses were. Christine felt a twinge of jealousy as the pretty thing worked extremely close to Chris, wrapping and adjusting the chest brace around him, quietly explaining that it was more for protection of his sensitive ribs than anything else. Next, she delicately worked the walking brace onto his ankle nearly whispering in an overly kind way whether it needed to be tighter here or looser there. When the nurse was satisfied with the fit, she asked if he needed to use the bathroom.



"No, I'll help him," Christine interjected abruptly.



The nurse was taken aback a bit. This was the first shift she had since they arrived, and although the previous shift nurses told her to give the couple a bit of slack and she had seen the story on TV, she didn't know they were actually involved with each other. She assumed it was like most normal high school dates. Friends finding each other, with hopes for maybe a dessert of skin after the dance. Chris was cute, and his eyes said that he didn't have a mean bone in his body. A little flirting wouldn't hurt, or so she had thought. She collected herself from Christine's protective statement and told Chris to call her if he needed anything. Christine answered for Chris that SHE would call if he needed anything, thank you very much.



Chris chuckled after the nurse left. "Jealous much?"



Christine shook her head. "Just you hush. You enjoy seeing her walk away?"



"I'm a guy. So, yeah, her scrubs fit her nicely."



She inhaled sharply through her nose. "Okay. So, do you need to go to the bathroom or what?"



"You're mad, aren't you?"



"Well, yeah! I'm right here, and yet you're ogling a nurse. But, at least you're honest about it, so I won't stay mad long. I don't think so, anyway."



"Sorry, it was habit," he said as he sat up slowly.



Christine helped him up and put herself under his arm on his bad side. "It's okay. You can make it up to me later. Jesus, you're heavy."



"I could get the nurse."



"Ha. Ha. Let's just do this."



Later on, they were sleeping in Chris's bed. Christine woke when the nurse came in to check on Chris. She moved to get out of the bed so that the nurse could do her job, but the girl stopped her. She urged Christine to stay, and that she could do what she needed to with her there in the bed. She left after a few seconds, and Christine wrapped her arm over his chest.



She didn't want to go back to sleep right away, so she traced his slight ripples and curves with her fingers. Her hand wandered down over his gown and she hadn't realized she was that low until her hand reached his night time erection through his gown. Still a bit sleepy, she didn't think anything of it when she put her hand under the side of his gown and wrapped it around him. It grew harder at her touch, and she manipulated him until he stirred.



"What? Wait, Christine what are you doing?"



"What does it feel like? You saved my life, so I'm giving you something in return."



"But, the nurse might come in. We can't do this now."



"She just left. Your rash seems gone. Come on, how many times will you get to brag that you got a handjob in the hospital?"



"Yeah, well, the rash is gone...and that feels so good." His breathing increased rapidly. "Speaking of come...you do that just a little more firmly and that's what I'm going to do, so be careful."



"Mmm, I think I'd be offended if you didn't." 



She increased her tempo a bit and nibbled on his neck. He was right, it didn't take long, and was much more satisfying than any of the times he'd done it to himself. He turned and kissed her deeply as she wiped her hand on his gown over his stomach.



Chapter 15



The bags were packed and both had taken showers and changed. They wore jeans and Chris had on a navy oxford dress shirt, while Christine sported a white sleeveless blouse. Even though the blouse matched Christine's new white gauze jewelry on her hand and arm, the parents remarked how great they both looked once cleaned up.



Christine took a deep breath to steady her nerves before facing the cameras looming outside. Originally, the plan was to release Chris early in the morning to escape the mob, but someone had leaked those plans, so everyone took their time getting ready. They had to face the music at some point anyway, right?



"You ready for this?" she asked him when the orderly helped him out of bed.



"Nope," he responded as he hopped to the waiting wheelchair. "You?"



"Hardly." She shook her hands in front of her, trying to snap out some of the tension before picking up his crutches and leading the way out of the room door.



They were surprised when they emerged from their room at a sudden cheer and applause by a large number of staff lining both sides of the hallway. Their entourage of their parents, a couple of orderlies and a porter was joined by three police officers. As the group made their way to the elevator, a number of the staff reached out to shake their hands, expressing happiness and wonder at their survival and recovery. Many wished them luck in their futures.



"That was odd," said Christine in the elevator, prompting everyone in the car to chuckle.



"That's nothing compared to what's downstairs," remarked one of the officers.



The elevator doors opened directly to the lobby, and they could see a mass of people waiting outside. A call of "there they are!" sparked a frenzy of microphones being brought up to reporter's mouths. Cameras were hefted onto shoulders, and a muffled mass of voices could be heard. As the orderly wheeled Chris toward the door, several police officers and security members started moving the crowd back away from the door.



The orderly stopped a short distance from the entrance. "This is as far as I'm taking you. Don't take this the wrong way, but it's good to see you leave."



Chris got up and pivoted on his good foot to shake the man's hand. "Thanks. Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm glad to be leaving."



The small group chuckled while Christine handed him his crutches. The crowd had been pushed back enough now that a podium stacked with microphones and digital voice recorders was visible. As they made their way through the automatic doors, there was a sudden rush of questions hurled at them, and they couldn't discern any single one from the jumble of it all. At the podium, Chris handed his crutches to his mom, and when he turned back to the throng of reporters, the knee on his good leg buckled. There was a collective gasp and several people lurched, but Christine was quick to duck under his arm and keep him from falling. It was agreed before they came down that since Chris had the most public speaking experience from his retreats, he would address the reporters. Nearly falling in front of the world was not in the plans.



Sheepishly he put his hand on the podium to steady himself and quietly said, "better watch that first step. It's a doosie."



The crowd laughed nervously, and then the frenzy of questions started being shouted at them again.



Chris put his hand up and they got quiet. "First of all, Christine and I want to extend our deepest condolences to the families of those who were killed. What comfort we can give is that when we last saw our friends and classmates, they were all dancing and having a good time. The last minutes of their lives were happy." His voice broke a bit as he said the last part, and Christine's head dropped. After a couple of seconds, he regained his composure. "We'd also like to thank Tom, Christine's brother for driving up from central Florida to find us. We are also indebted to the rescue teams who worked through the night to delicately uncover us. Their persistence paid off in spades, because I was only minutes from dying myself when we were freed."



Christine gripped his waist tightly in an unspoken apology, and relief that he was still with her.



Chris continued after a pause, "we also thank everyone's thoughts and prayers during this ordeal. I'm sure they helped keep us safe while we were trapped, and provided much comfort to us when we heard about your concern once we were freed. Christine and I will take one question each now, so make it count."



A ruckus of questions were shouted, but one stood out to Chris. "Chris, what was it like under all that debris?"



He repeated the question he heard then said, "well, it was dark." The reporters laughed then returned to being quiet to hear the rest of his answer. "Oh, you want more than that? We were under a table that had just enough support to keep a hole just big enough for both of us lying down. The air was incredibly dusty, and with both of us in formal wear and in such a small space, it was hot."



Christine nodded.



A reporter blurted out a question ahead of the others. "Christine, what warning did you have that the tornado was about to hit?"



She looked up at Chris. "Well, none. Chris was the one who said we needed to find a better place."



"So he said to get out of the ballroom?"



"No. I needed a break to freshen up before the crowning ceremony, so we went to the restrooms. We were about to go back to the dance when Chris and I felt something and he said we needed cover."



"Crowning ceremony...so you were the Prom Queen?"



"No, that was about to start after the next song. But, yes, I was told I was in the running for the title."



Another reporter broke in with an extra question. "Chris and Christine, how do you feel about the sheriff's department giving up on looking for you at the clubhouse complex?"



A look of puzzlement appeared on both their faces. Chris answered, "I wasn't aware that they had given up. I'm sure they were doing their best given the information they had. Okay, thank you all for your interest, but we're tired and we must be getting on. Our families are waiting for us to get home. As you can imagine, we are well past our curfew from Saturday night."



The crowd chuckled and made way for the families to head to the Barron's Suburban which had been brought up behind them by a valet. A few more questions were hurled up as Chris hobbled and Christine walked past, but mostly there were comments of gladness that the couple survived the tragedy.



"We're not going home?" Christine asked when they drove past the street toward their house.



Her mom turned around in the seat up front. "No, we're dropping Chris and his family off first."



She started looking around, panicked. Chris patted her knee to calm her in the middle row. His mom explained from behind them, "we have company that wants to see and be with Chris, as I'm sure y'all have the same." Christine's mom nodded from the front.



"But, I wanna be with Chris."



The truck pulled up in front of his house. Chris turned to her and said, "it'll be okay. We'll see each other soon enough."



Her mom chimed in, "yes, tomorrow. The state fire marshal and FDLE want to interview you, so we thought it would be best to have them at our house. They could interview you together."



Christine looked pleadingly in Chris's eyes, and he answered, "I know. Just go with it and enjoy your family for now. We'll figure everything else out later."



With that, he kissed her and she begrudgingly helped him get out of the truck.



Goodbyes were said, and Chris's parents thanked the doctor for the ride to the hospital. The truck turned around at the end of the street, and Christine watched Chris prop himself on his crutches as he received hugs from aunts, uncles and cousins.



As they were pulling out of the subdivision, her mom said from the front, "you know, absence makes the heart grow fonder, sweetie."



Christine didn't reply.



They got home and the first to greet her at the kitchen door was Pepper. Her pouting changed to a beaming smile instantly and she ruffled the dog's fur playfully. When she finished hugging her rescuer, Pepper started licking the white bandage on her cut hand. Christine laughed, "it's okay, girl. It doesn't hurt."



Her sisters appeared in the kitchen and she was greeted with fierce hugs from both. Following them were a number of uncles, aunts, cousins and family friends. Her chest ached with each tight hug and peck, but she ignored the pain and returned all the greetings warmly. After the initial chatter died down, her mom said that she was sure Christine was tired, and that there was no need to keep standing in the kitchen. The group of family members stepped aside to allow Christine to lead them to the family room.



She turned the corner and was surprised to see Tom sitting at the couch with his girlfriend Jill, and Lady laying at their feet. Lady jumped up and trotted over to greet Christine with licks and sniffs, then Tom got up and nudged the dog out of the way so he could hug and kiss his sister. Jill came up and repeated the gesture. After a bit everyone found seats and visited with each other. Jill asked after a while how the dance went.



There were pointed looks her way, but Christine got what she meant. She described in detail how wonderful dinner was, how well Chris related to her, and that conversations with him were incredibly easy. Christine told how involved the photo shoot was and that Chris was sweet enough to insist on buying the largest package for each of them. She painted with words the scenery in the ballroom, who was dancing with whom, and some humorous tales of awkward dance moves from guys overconfident in their ability. She ended with, "so we went to go potty, and the rest you've seen on the news, from what I hear."



Jill was sitting next to her and gave her a sideways hug as she finished up. Christine's mood had grown sullen when she thought about what that last statement meant for her and the friends she lost. Her mom got up to start making dinner, and most of the others took that cue and followed her to help. Jill and the two dogs remained behind to stay with Christine.



When everyone else left, Christine fought back tears while she continued to Jill, "I wish I could have helped them. I went to warn them that something was coming, but Chris stopped me...I just...I...if only..."



Jill held her close and petted her hair. "If you had gone back, you'd probably be gone along with them. What told y'all to get under a table?"



"Chris. He..." she started, but then gave into the emotions and openly wept against Jill's shoulder. The thoughts of how they died, how she lived, and Chris's part in the whole thing were just too much for her to remain stoic.



She had felt oddly refreshed after her long cry against Jill. Her parents and Tom had come back into the living room to check on her, but Jill waved them off. Dinner happened to be getting ready to serve when she finally calmed down, and she thanked Jill for the shoulder to cry on before retreating to the bathroom to freshen her face up. The meal was pleasant, and conversations for the most part steered well clear of the reason they were all there.



Being back in her own bed was wonderful, but she tossed and turned for a couple of hours, wishing that Chris could tap on her window. She knew that was nearly impossible with his injured right foot, but she still couldn't help but hope. Giving up at last, she put on some shorts and a t-shirt and padded barefoot to the kitchen. Writing on a small whiteboard on the refrigerator, she said, "went to see Chris. Be back later. Sorry." She took her mom's keys from the peg and went out the door.



Standing on his lawn, she turned the pebbles she picked up from the garden in her hand. "No, that's silly. They wouldn't make him climb the stairs to his room," she thought to herself. "Where would he be? She looked at the window to the right of the door. She remembered that it looked into the guest room. A thick hedge in front and her bare feet prevented any thought of her going to tap on that window. She tossed a pebble at it while thinking to herself, "please be in that one." There didn't seem to be any response, so she tossed a second, then a third. As she bent down to pick a few more up, a movement caught her eye. The shape behind the sheer curtain seemed to match Chris's, but she wasn't certain. Christine thought about tossing another, as whoever it was might not have seen her in the dark bending down. Just then the front door quietly opened, and there stood her goal.



"Christine?"



"Yeah, it's me. Did I wake anyone up?" she moved out of the grass and in front of the light coming from the doorway.



"I don't think so." Chris opened the screen door. "Come on in."



She hesitated there on the small porch. "Oh, I'm not sure I should. Your relatives are here, and..."



"Did you walk here?" He propped the door open with his crutch and pointed to her feet.

<hr pg="6" />"No, uh, I parked the Suburban in your driveway around the side...Look, I'm sorry to have woken you. I just couldn't fall asleep without seeing your face again."



He smiled and pushed against the screen door. "Come in, please? I was thinking about you, too. So, you didn't really wake me. Just come in, okay?"



Christine wiped her feet on the mat, then again on the small rug that was placed on the other side of the threshold. She looked up the stairs to her right. "Isn't that your room up there?"



He closed the door gently. "Yes, but I won't be going up there for a while. Mom and Dad are upstairs, and one of my younger cousins is in my room. I'm staying down here." He started swinging his way on his crutches.



"So who all are here?" she asked as she followed him.



"Just who I mentioned. Everyone else is at a hotel in town."



Most of the lights were off, and the house looked different than she remembered when she cooked dinner here a few years ago. It was a bit outdated, but a nice house. As she followed Chris to the guest room, she wondered why he never invited her over. He paused at the doorway, and motioned further up the hall. At the end was a closed door.



"That was Grandma's room...still is, I guess you could say. We haven't changed much in there since she got sick." With that, he went inside his temporary quarters, waited for her to move past him, then shut the door behind her.



The guest room turned out to be his childhood bedroom. Even in the dim light, she could tell it was still painted a brilliant yellow. The bedroom had a small closet with bifold doors, worn green carpet, and a modern ceiling fan that seemed out of place with the décor hanging from the high ceiling. There were two pieces of matching furniture, a dresser and the bed, both of which were very antique. A toy chest sat opposite the bed, and a small inexpensive round dining table occupied the last of the floor space. She asked curiously what the table was for, and he answered that in grade school, that was where he did his homework.



"But you didn't come over to see where I slept when I was growing up, did you?" he said as he sat on the bed, which amazingly did not creak under his weight.



Christine shook her head. "No," she said quietly. "I don't know, I guess I just couldn't wait until tomorrow to see you."



Chris removed his t-shirt, revealing why he seemed more bulky than normal. "Could you help me get this brace off? There is no way I'll be able to sleep with it on."



Christine nodded and began pulling the Velcro straps apart from each other. They both giggled at the unbelievably loud ripping noise it made against the silence of the walls. She nodded at a wood framed stained glass night light residing on the dresser that cast the only illumination in the room. "Where did you get that?"



"It was my dad's."



"Is that a statue of Jesus mounted on the front? It doesn't seem like something your dad would get."



He shifted around on the bed once his protective shell was removed. "No, that's a statue of St. Joseph, who was, uh, my natural father's favorite saint."



"Wha...?"



Chris sighed. "The dad you know is my step-father. My parents got divorced when I was very young. I used to visit him in the summers, but as I got older, I saw why my mom left him. So, I stopped going."



She put the brace on the table, then went to work on his boot. "You never told me about him. Why? Where is he?"



"He's in Ohio. Both he and Mom think I don't remember the night we left him, since I was so young. But I do." In the faint light, she could see his eyes get glassy as he visualized the memory.



She removed the boot and set about rewrapping the elastic bandage around his ankle. "What do you remember?"



"I'd rather not talk about it," he said while shaking his head clear.



Christine fastened the loose end of the bandage with the clips and sat on the edge of the bed next to Chris. She picked up his right hand and noticed his ring finger twitching again. Gently, she soothed it with her thumb and index. "That bad, huh?"



He nodded. "Yeah...And, why is my finger DOING that? It was still all night until just now."



"The swelling has gone down. Maybe you should take your ring off?" She was playing with the beaten underside of the band now.



"I don't think I could part with it."



Just then, there was a slight knock at his door. It opened, and a girl about 4 years old walked in. "Chris?"



"Yes, sweetie?"



"I'm thirsty...oh! You're the lady that was with Chris on the TV!"



Chris beckoned the girl over to him, and he lifted her onto his lap. "Yes, ma'am. This is Christine. She's my best friend. Christine, this is my cousin Jenna. Jenna is staying with us so her parents can have some alone time tonight. Isn't that right?"



Jenna nodded enthusiastically.



Christine held out her hand. "Hello."



Jenna took it and gave it a squeeze. "Can I have some water?"



Christine touched Chris's arm to keep him in place. "I'll get it. Is that okay, Jenna?"



The girl agreed and Christine went to the kitchen, going slow through the unfamiliar house. She looked through the cabinets until she found a plastic tumbler, then she returned to the room with the ice water. Jenna took the tumbler greedily and gulped the water down.



"Did you go down the stairs by yourself?" Christine asked.



"Uh huh. I'm a big girl!"



Christine chuckled. "Yes you are. You know your cousin Chris is hurt, yes?"



"Yup. He showed me his boot."



"Did he? Well, he can't climb stairs very well right now. Would you want me to tuck you in?"



"Sure."



"Okay, how about you lead the way?"



Jenna hopped off Chris's lap after giving him a hug. "Good night Chris!"



"Night, little Jenna!"



"I'm not little!" she protested. Christine couldn't help but smile.



"Oh, my mistake!" Chris exclaimed quietly. "But I think it's a cute name for you. Or, maybe I should call you HUMUNGO Jenna?"



She giggled. "Nope! I'll be Little Jenna." She spun around to lead Christine to her room.



Chris mouthed "thank you" to his girlfriend, and Christine winked back. She returned after a bit and said, "she is so cute! Who's her parents?"



"My cousin Jackie and Bill. She's a doll." Chris took her hand and tugged until Christine sat in front of him facing away. He wrapped his arms around her stomach.



Christine placed her arms over his, and toyed with his ring again. "So they can get some alone time, huh?"



Chris removed his arms from around her and drew her hair over her shoulder. She was wearing her usual delicately feminine gold chain now, and he kissed the clasp, eliciting a quiet moan from her. "Yeah, they haven't had a baby sitter since she was born. My room upstairs was free, so I offered it. My parents agreed, and there you go."



"That was nice of you to do for them." Chris was working his way around the sides of her neck. "And that's very nice of you to do to me," she groaned.



He was fumbling around with his hands behind her back, but she couldn't tell what he was doing. Suddenly the kissing stopped and she felt a jerk behind her. She was about to ask what was going on when he removed her chain. Within a moment, it was being replaced with a weight in the center. Christine waited patiently for him to finish clasping it, then pulled the chain away from her neck to see what was added. She lowered it, but was still fondling the weighty item when she turned to look at him.



"You said you couldn't part with your ring. Why did you give it to me?"



"You seemed to like it...always touching it now. Besides, if it's with you, it'll still be with me. I'm not parting with it."



Moved by his gesture, Christine kissed him over her shoulder, removing her own ring. She took his hand and slipped it over his pinkie finger. "I guess that makes us 'officially' going steady?"



They giggled at the corniness of the show, but in reality, it was a big deal to both of them. Each had used their own money to buy their class rings, and put a lot of thought into the design decision. This said, Christine felt that her token paled in comparison to Chris's. It meant a great deal to her, as her dad told her that its pinging helped confirm that they were alive, and also fine-tuned the position of the rescue effort. But more than that, just a few days ago while they were trapped, one of the conversations her and Chris had was about couples exchanging class rings. Chris had said he would never take it off for a girl since he just didn't trust young relationships enough to hand the jewelry over to someone else. But now, it was fastened to her, the symbolic gesture that he claimed her for his own, and that he trusted her implicitly.



She turned on the bed, working her leg up and around between them, and straddled him, sitting on his lap. Christine looked into his eyes and didn't know what to say. Instead, she kissed him and instantly the affection became passionate. She broke the kiss after a couple of minutes and reached for the bottom of her shirt.



Chris lightly grabbed her hands and stopped her. "No, I'm sorry. I would love to ask you to stay with me tonight, but I don't think it's a good idea, especially with Jenna in the house. My mom would frown on finding us in the same bed for sure. If you want to stay, you're welcome to, and I'll sleep on the couch in the living room."



"You will not. But I understand, and you're right. It would be awkward to explain if Jenna came back down." She sighed deeply. "I probably better get home, anyway. When are you coming over?"



"Mom's bringing me over at 10," he said, punctuating the statement with a peck on her nose.



She returned the peck and it grew into full blown kissing again. Christine tore herself away at last, knowing that if she didn't soon, neither Chris nor herself would be able to stop her from getting what she desperately wanted right now. She brushed her hair back, panting. "Um, okay...I'll see you then." She got up and started walking out the room.



"I love you madly," Chris said after her.



She turned back toward him. "And I want you badly," she said with a smile, then disappeared.



Christine parked the truck in her driveway, erased the whiteboard, and headed to bed. Even though her head was swimming with wonderful images of Chris's behavior tonight, especially how kindly he talked to Jenna, she fell asleep easily. The images provided fuel for some warm and fuzzy dreams.



She woke at about 8 the next morning, and her first order of business was to take her little pill. It was her first one since she filled the birth control prescription early last summer. Christine just didn't see herself with a guy in that way, but got the pills just in case love would strike. It certainly had struck now. She mentally berated herself for last night. Of course she would have worried later on what the result might be, but at the time she just wouldn't have cared. She was ready and willing to unite with Chris, consequences be damned. Stupid, she knew, and she breathed a sigh of relief that he held her back.



After her shower, she went to get a breakfast pastry from the refrigerator, and stumbled into Tom in the kitchen.



After taking a bite and with a mouth full of the bread, she asked, "hey Tom, can I borrow your car real quick?"



He shook his head. "Uh uh...not without a license, you don't."



She frowned. "What do you mean, no license?" Then it dawned on her. Her purse was still missing. "Oh, damn it! And we're leaving early Monday...oh shit."



"Why? Where were you going?"



"Up to the drugstore up the street. I was gonna get some con...uh...nevermind."



"Kotex? Which ones you use? I'll get them for you. Jill has me go on late night runs for her from time to time, so I don't mind."



No, that was not what she had in mind. What she really wanted was a bit more embarrassing for her. "That's...that's okay. I'll, uh borrow some of Mom's until I can pick up what I need later on."



"Don't be silly...come on, let's go. I'll pay for what you want."



Oh crap, she didn't think of that. Her cards, her money, her license were all in the purse. He almost dragged her by her elbow out to his car. Before she could think about it, they were in the pharmacy parking lot. He led her inside, and she almost seemed dazed to him. She was walking slow, looking around like she didn't know where she was going.



"You okay?"



"Yeah, I'm fine," she answered, almost too quick.



"Well, get what you need," he prodded.



He's impossible sometimes, she thought as she walked up the first aid aisle. "I need some pads and wrap to change these," she noted while nodding toward her wrapped arm.



"Okay...so get it."



I know...just let me THINK for a minute, she wanted to say to him. She picked up a box of absorbent pads and a roll of gauze wrap, then headed toward the feminine aisle. While she walked, she went around and around in her head to come up with a way to pick up her goal item. She even entertained a quick idea of trying to steal a small pack, but discarded it just as quickly. Christine strolled up and down the aisle, pretending to weigh her options while constantly glancing at the pegged section at the end.



Tom broke into her thoughts with a "well?"



She shook her head, not seeing any way around this. She sucked in a deep breath and quietly said to Tom, "look, what I really wanted is some condoms, okay? You'll keep prying until you get it out of me anyway, so I'm telling you straight up. If you can't handle it, fine. If you don't want to buy them for me, fine. Just tell me, and we'll get my bandages and leave." She was panting when she finished, her face redder than the cross on the first aid supplies.



Tom's look was one of surprise. He worked fast to digest the sudden information. "Have you two..."



"No!" she broke him off. "But we're getting closer and closer. Last night I almost..." What was wrong with her mouth this morning? It was vomiting words all on its own. "Fuck it...I'm already telling you too much, so you might as well hear it all. Last night I snuck out and took the Suburban to see Chris. Things were going well, he gave me his ring, and he looked at and interacted with his little cousin with such tenderness before I took her back to bed, that my heart just melted. When I turned on the bed to face him and looked in his eyes, I just started kissing him. I wanted him so badly right then, I didn't care about anything else. Luckily, his concern for the innocence of his cousin sleeping upstairs, and what his mom would think if she found us won out. This morning, the thought of what I was willing to do, and what could have happened as a result scared me..."



"I thought you were on the pill."



"I am...well...I am now. I went to the doctor last summer and got it filled, but it was just to have in case lightning struck and I found someone. But, no one's been in my life, so I never started taking them. Things with Chris happened so fast after Sarah..." She closed her eyes against the thought of her lost best friend, fighting to keep it together. "Oh God, Sarah...ahem...Sarah mentioned something about Chris and I not being together. I told him what she said, and it turned out we have feelings for each other. So...longer story shorter, I have someone, I'm ready now, and I took my first one this morning."



"Hence the panic button for condoms suddenly..."



"Exactly."



"You could have just told me this at home. I would have given you some of mine."



She just looked at him with eyes that screamed "asshole."



"...Right. Awkward."



"You think so?" she asked sarcastically.



"Yeah...well...you know they aren't foolproof, there's still a risk..."



"Oh...my...GOD! I cannot believe I'm getting a sex ed lesson from my brother in the middle of a drugstore. Let's just go." She spun on her heel to walk out.



Tom grabbed her good arm and stopped her. "Sorry. I'll get them. Okay? No more hassle, I swear."



She eyed him warily, but then walked over to the display. "I thought all condoms were the same, just different brands," she remarked after looking over the choices.



"Well, what do you want it to do?"



"Do?!"



Tom spent a few minutes explaining the finer points of rubbers, and Christine was impressed at his new patience for her. She asked questions and got insightful answers, and was surprised at how adult her older brother had become. With his unbiased information, she settled on a 12 pack of Trojans with spermicide. He took the boxes from her and they went to the front of the store.



It turned out to be a good thing he was the one to present her items, because she didn't think she could have endured the potential embarrassment of what happened next, had she placed them on the counter herself. 



The cashier scanned the three boxes, looked up to read the total and nearly screamed, "oh my God! Are you? You are! Hey everyone! Christine the Prom Miracle is here!"



Christine glanced around, muttering "what the..?"



Several employees and a couple of other customers seemed to appear out of nowhere to greet the now-found teen. She smiled gracefully while thanking the well wishes and other comments of cheer. But, inside she was thoroughly confused. Tom paid the total and collected the bag when the cashier got a puzzled look on her face.



"You're not Chris," she remarked.



"No," answered Christine. "This is my brother, Tom. He found us. And I saw that look...Chris is mine. Don't get any ideas," she winked.



The group chuckled, and the females fawned over Tom, thanking him for finding the couple everyone had hoped was still alive.



"That was nutty," Christine commented as she got in his car.



Tom handed her the bag. "Yeah, because of everything you're famous, now."



"I could do without all that. I just wanted one real date with Chris before college."



He pulled out of the parking lot to head back to the house. "So much for it just being a stupid fifth grade dance those years ago, huh? Well, I, for one, am really glad you two ended up going together. He saved my sister's life...so I guess I can look past that he's going to take her innocence," he smirked.



"Oh just shut up and drop it," she scolded, but then she couldn't help but smile to herself.



Right on schedule at 10, Chris and his parents showed up. Christine greeted him with a sweet kiss, no longer caring if it was awkward for anyone else to see. Then, she showed them to the living room and offered coffee. There weren't any takers, so she settled on the couch next to her boyfriend. Her mom came in the room and greeted everyone. There was a moment of awkward silence before her mom announced that the parents had surprises for the kids. She went to the sofa table and handed an elegant black box to each. One had a small pink dot in the corner and that went to Christine. They slid open the lids at the same time and gasped. Each received a brand new smart phone.



Her mom smiled at their excitement. She explained that a store manager from T-Mobile dropped them off this morning while Christine and Tom were at the store. He said that they heard both lost their phones in the storm, and the company wanted to replace them with an upgrade, free of charge. They were flipping through the menus while they listened to the explanation.



Chris returned to the home screen, and an icon caught his eye. "Holy cow! I have 50 voice mails!"



Christine saw what screen he was on and flipped her own to the same one. "Heh...I have 175."



"Most of those are from me," said her mom. "You can delete them, I'm sure I sound off my rocker in them."



"Then, you can delete the rest, because I kept calling you both, too. I know I sound frantic, especially in the last ones," said Chris's mom.



While they were talking, Chris was busy typing and Christine's phone chimed three separate times. She giggled after listening to the mothers. "What are you doing, Chris?"

<hr pg="7" />"Making up for lost time," he said plainly after hitting send and making her phone beep again.



She looked down and saw that she had four new texts. All were identical: "G'nite, I love you!" Christine grinned broadly and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.



The doorbell rang and her mom went to answer. She returned with two men carrying laptops and a notebook each. One was in a business shirt and tie, the other in a white uniform shirt with a firefighter badge. Both presented their identification wallets and badges to the teens and introduced themselves.



"What's FDLE?" asked Christine after seeing Investigator Smith's credentials.



"Florida Department of Law Enforcement...basically Florida's version of the FBI."



"So, I don't understand," said Chris. "Are we under arrest? I mean, I only jimmied the lock because..."



Fire Marshall Caldwell chuckled. "No, relax son. Because of what you did, you're the only two witnesses we have. We had a few questions about why you felt you needed to seek shelter, and some other things."



The two men took empty seats on the sofa across from Chris and Christine. Smith opened his laptop and spun it around, showing the pair a slide show of the scene. Photos were taken from all sides, and from the air. In one, Christine could make out a pair of pump-adorned female legs sticking out from under a piece of wall. Another was one taken of the two of them, still trapped under the table, waiting for the saw to cut them out.



Smith continued when the pictures ended, "aside from a weather office report of a hook echo in that location, this is all we know about that night. We were hoping you could fill in some of the details. What we learn today might help prevent this from happening again."



And so the questioning began. Chris and Christine answered everything the best they could. Some answers were easy, like the location of chaperones when they last saw them, whether there was an off-duty officer present, and where did Chris park the car. Others required a bit more thought, especially about what exactly tipped them off that something was wrong. The investigators were especially intrigued that only 300 feet from the ballroom, Chris and Christine could barely hear the music, and didn't hear it at all once inside the break room. They wrapped up their interrogation with a question of curiosity.



Marshall Caldwell asked, "it is agreed that you two would have been in much worse shape if you didn't have food or water for 30 hours. If you were unsure that something was indeed wrong, what made you decide to grab the stuff and keep it with you?"



Chris answered, "be prepared. It's the scout's motto. I always took it to heart. Prepare for everything, or prepare yourself to die...That's how I always thought of things when taking courses for Survival and Pioneering merit badges. It just stuck with me."



Smith smiled. "I'm curious about something else. If your hands were limited in how they could move, I could see how Christine could eat and drink if she shifted up, back, or rolled slightly, but I don't think she could have reached Chris's mouth with those angles. How did you eat or drink, Chris?"



Christine winked at him. "That's for us to know, and you to figure out."



The two got up and remarked that it was an incredible story. The marshal mentioned that as the debris was being cleared, there was no other place found with a cavity big enough to fit even a single person. They had found the only one 'safe' spot, and even that was questionable. They said they were glad the couple was alive and doing well with their recoveries.



"Oh yeah, I almost forgot," said Caldwell. He reached in his laptop bag and pulled out a dirty handbag. "I believe this belongs to you, Christine."



She looked in it and everything was still there, including her smashed cellphone. She gave him a big hug and thanked him profusely for saving her from a bunch of paperwork. The two smiled, wished everyone farewell, and promised to update them on the final report.



As they were leaving, Carol and her husband pulled up. Christine met them out at their car. They all hugged and she invited them in, but they declined. Carol said she wanted only to tell her that the trip was still on. It was met with a bit of resistance, but she had convinced a number of couples that the pair was worth getting to know. Christine asked how many, and the answer was 20 couples. There were an additional 5 older siblings of other seniors who agreed to take the trip in their brother or sister's place. Carol also threw in that Wendy's funeral would be tomorrow, as well as two others. These were the last of the funerals. She said that they were in no way obligated nor expected to attend, but Carol thought that the couple would at least want to know about it. Christine said they would do their best to attend, and only because they wanted to. The couple said goodbye and Christine thanked them for stopping by.



Chapter 16



Christine woke early the next morning and started getting ready for the crammed schedule of that Saturday. She was good last night, staying in her room. It was easier because now she had a phone back. She and Chris had talked about the funerals after Wendy's parents left, but their parents advised against going. They feared that a verbal attack like the one in the hospital could happen again, but only worse. But, on the phone, she talked to him for a couple of hours alone before bed, and they agreed that they both wanted to go.



She started rewrapping her healing gashes on her arm after the shower, but knew she would hate how the white gauze would stand out against her black dress. Her stitches weren't scheduled to be removed until after they got back from Orlando, but she couldn't wait that long. Donning a t-shirt and shorts, she went to her dad and asked him to remove the stitches. He balked at first, saying he'd rather keep the cuts protected. She argued that it was almost a week, and they would have been removed tomorrow anyway if it weren't Sunday and her doctor's office was closed. He relented, and got out his small instrument bag that he kept with him for emergencies he might stumble upon. Dr. Barron insisted that she keep it covered at least for today and he applied three bandaids to each injury. Christine decided that was far better than the stark white she had on before.



With the new patches on her elbow and hand, she went to the kitchen and poured herself a bowl of cereal. Tom was there and she sat next to him.



"Thanks for getting those..." she began.



"Shut up!" he interrupted with a pointed glance toward the living room. "You're welcome. Just make sure you use them until you feel safe."



"I will. But thanks for not being a dick to me about it."



"Eh, I love you for some ungodly reason." He smirked, and the result was a jab with Christine's spoon. "So, you going to the funerals after all?"



"I just couldn't sit here, knowing I'm well enough to attend the last ones. I'd feel guilty. Did you want to come? I've got to pick up Chris in about an hour, but it would be nice if you were there, too."



"We've got to head back today. Jill works tomorrow and it's a nine hour drive."



"So, you'll be gone when we get back this afternoon?"



"Yeah."



She dropped her spoon into her cereal and turned to give her brother a massive hug. She said into his shoulder, "thank you for everything, Tom. Thank you for finding us when you did, for how you acted yesterday with my secrets, just thank you for not being an ass anymore. I love you!"



He returned the hug and kissed the side of her head. "It ain't no thing. I love you...even if I didn't show it much before. Just try to make it so I don't have to go looking under rocks to find you again."



She half chuckled, half cried against him. "I'm gonna miss you. Be back before I go off to college?"



"We'll see."



Christine got dressed and made up then called Chris to see if he was ready. He was and she went to the kitchen. She asked her mom which car should she take and was told her dad's. As she grabbed the keys from the peg, Jill walked in. Christine turned and gave her a long hug. They wished each other well and good bye, then Christine was out the door.



She pulled up to Chris's house and didn't even have to get out of the car. He was waiting for her on his steps, and he could see her waiting on the highway to turn into his subdivision. By the time she stopped, he was halfway to the street. Chris swung on his crutches around the car, opened the door and got in.



"Morning," he greeted her with a kiss.



She turned back after the kiss to drive away. "Morning. Guess your parents didn't want to go, either."



He shook his head. "Mom said it would make her think too much about what could have happened with us."



She nodded. "Yeah, mine said pretty much the same thing."



Wendy and her family lived in a small town across the state line in Alabama, so it was going to be a bit of a lengthy drive. Not much was said between them on the way there since each were lost in their own thoughts about what almost was. So many little things led to their survival. Being dumped by their original dates, finding out they liked each other romantically and so went to the dance together. Finding out they were to be King and Queen of the dance, spending a little too much time sipping sodas and talking to each other at dinner, sharing that kiss in the hallway instead of returning straight to the dance. Had any one of those not happened, they would surely be attending a funeral, but it would be in their own coffins.



About half way there, Christine's phone rang and she asked Chris to answer it for her. It was the public relations director for T-Mobile calling on behalf of the CEO. She wanted to make sure they received their phones and that they were happy with them. Chris replied that they were quite surprised and pleased with the gift. The director had a question that shocked him.



He put the phone down away from his ear. "Uh, T-Mobile wants to know if we'll do a magazine ad photo shoot for them."



Christine whipped her head toward him before putting her eyes back on the two lane road. "What?!"



He repeated the exclamation in the phone, and was told that the company felt that not only was theirs a great story, they were attractive, too. In exchange, they would be given $500 each plus free unlimited service for two years. He relayed the offer and Christine thought it was a good deal and would do it if he did. Back on the phone, Chris said they would agree to do it, but it would have to be after graduation next week. The director agreed and said she would get back with them on the details.



Chris ended the call on Christine's phone. "Huh."



"Yeah. Things are weird."



"What do you mean?"



Christine related what had happened at the end of her and Tom's shopping trip yesterday. Chris seemed to ignore her story and asked what she bought. She told him bandages, but he remarked she only had some bandaids on.



"Well, the gauze was a cover at first to get something else."



"Get what else?" he asked.



She grinned with a twinkle in her eye, "you'll find out soon enough."



He pondered that until they arrived at the church. The parking lot was nearly full, and Christine had to circle once to find a spot. She had hoped for something closer for Chris's sake, but no such luck. Wearing sunglasses, no one seemed to notice, much less recognize, either of them, even though the crutches should have been a big tipoff. Things changed once they entered the church and removed their glasses. The nosy older ladies who seem to always have their heads craned to the back spotted them, and a ripple of whispers went through those who were already seated. It wasn't long before every eye was fixed on them, except for the two parents up front.



The couple made their way to them and stood in front of the pews before the grieving couple. Looking up, Carol recognized the two through her tears and stood to hug each. Her husband stood and shook Chris's hand.



"I didn't mean to make y'all come," she sniffed.



Christine patted her hand. "I know. But we wanted to. We just came up to let you know we're here for you."



She turned to find a pew with Chris, but Carol stopped her. "Sit with us, please?"



"That's okay, we'll find a spot."



"No really. For us? Please? Since Wendy can't be here, I'd really like you both to be at my side."



Chris answered, "sure. Anything we can do for you."



Christine led him around the pew rail and took the spot next to Carol. Instinctively, she took the woman's hand in support. The series of clicks coming from the back of the church barely registered in her mind.



The service started with Wendy's casket being wheeled down the middle aisle. Carol started sobbing, and tears rolled down Christine's face. She felt Chris's arm wrap around the small of her back, and it helped Christine to know he was there, even though her attention was fixed on Carol. The casket was blessed and prayers were said. The pastor gave the eulogy and told a very sweet story about Wendy and her commitment to the youth program when she wasn't participating in field events. Carol's hand squeezed Christine's tighter during the tougher parts, and Christine gained some of her support by passing it along to Chris's hand.



The service ended and the grieving couple were motioned to follow the casket down the aisle. Christine and Chris stayed in the pew, but the pastor waved for them to follow Wendy's parents. They did and stood with them while watching the steel box be loaded into the hearse. Christine helped Carol to the waiting limo while Chris got started making his way to Christine's dad's car. The ride to the cemetery was silent inside their car. Both just didn't know what to say.



Chris didn't want to be hindered by the crutches in the soft lawn, so he left them behind in the car. Their placement in the procession had them about in the middle of the pack, and crowds of people around them were rushing ahead to be at the gravesite. Christine would have beat Chris for abandoning the crutches, had it been any other time. Yes, the boot was meant for walking and gave support, but judging by the horrible way he limped, the pain from his torn tendons and ligaments must have been excruciating. She came up from under his arm to help him along, and it wasn't long before he put a significant weight to her shoulders on the alternate steps. However, he never said a word, nor did his face give away the torture he must have been in.



As they approached the grave, Carol made a slight gesture for them to stand near her. The priest said the final prayers and blessed the grave. At the conclusion of the service, young people from Wendy's parish walked past the coffin and gave it light touches good bye. Carol and her husband were the last to say goodbye and they kissed the steel before finally turning away to walk toward the limo that brought them. Before they parted from Chris and Christine, Carol invited them to a reception they were having at their house. The two politely declined, saying that they wanted to make the other two burials.



Walking back to the car, Christine noticed a small figure hanging around a short distance away. As they approached, the lithe female came running up to them. She locked Chris in a tight hug, somewhat confused by the hard shell around his chest.



"Hey Tina," he said.



"Oh my God, I am so glad to see you both!" she exclaimed while turning her affection to Christine. "Here, let me help you to your car," she offered while ducking under his other arm.



He placed a bit more weight on the two girls as he walked. "Thanks. It was getting tiring walking with this ankle."



"Yeah, well, if you hadn't left your crutches in the car, you wouldn't be suffering this much," Christine scolded.



They got to the car and Chris leaned against the side while they talked with Tina. She had gone to five of the track team members' funerals, and she said each one seemed sadder than the one before. She saw them there today, and just had to talk to them. Tina gave them a bit of a clue as to what the rest of the world saw of the tragedy when she related how she was watching a national news show last Sunday morning while waiting for her parents to take her to Mass. 



The story was gut wrenching to watch, but once she figured it out that they were talking about her schoolmates and teammates, she said she cried the whole day. Her parents ended up going to Mass without her. All morning, the picture of her mentor with Christine was displayed whenever the anchors would mention the missing couple. Tina told them that the story updates started taking on almost a soap opera flair when the car couldn't be located. Her parents were saying that the two probably left the dance early to go party, or even elope, but Tina wouldn't believe it. Then, that afternoon, the news reported unconfirmed rumors that the car had been found. When the sheriff came on and said "we found them!" Tina said she started cheering loudly and crying at the same time. She stayed up all night watching the rescue, which was being streamed live in a corner picture, even during commercials. The reporter on the scene would break in and the small picture would be brought to the main view every time the airhorn would sound for shifting debris.



"They interrupted their regular news show when the horn gave a series of blasts. It was speculated that they had finally reached you. For twenty minutes and without a single commercial, they showed the rescuers running around getting stretchers, oxygen tanks, and saws. I woke my parents up by screaming when they rushed Chris to the helicopter. I was excited, because I knew you were still alive."



Chris asked, "so this was on the national news?"



"Oh yeah! Just about every station had some sort of coverage about it. Especially when they couldn't find you."



He looked at Christine. "Well, that explains the ad offer."



Christine nodded.



"Ad offer? What ad offer?" asked Tina.



Christine answered, "T-Mobile asked if we'd do a photo shoot for them."



"Wow! That is so cool! Y'all will look great!"



"We'll see. Chris, we better get going. If we leave now, we'll still make the burial services for Amy and Doug. Tina, did you need a ride somewhere?"



"Thanks Christine, but my parents are here." Tina waved for the two adults that were haunting under a tree to come over. "Mom, Dad, this is Chris and Christine.



They all shook hands and her dad said, "glad you're still with us. Y'all have made quite the impression on Tina here...especially you Chris."



"Thanks, I guess. Tina is strong...I think she'll be the next Track captain."



"Really?!" Tina exclaimed.



"Nearly guaranteed. Just don't let your head get too big, and you'll be one of the biggest stars to have run at Catholic."



"Thanks! So, when are you going to be back at school?"



Chris looked at Christine since she seemed to have a better grasp on schedules lately. "We'll be there Thursday and Friday for the rehearsals."



"Great! I'll see you then," Tina said as a goodbye while her parents led her back to their car.



Christine's decision to go straight to St. Steven's Cemetery paid off. Amy's funeral procession was just turning in when they arrived. Word must have gotten out about their appearance at Wendy's funeral, because a few camera crews had shown up. The police escorts for the procession approached the crews and enforced a respectful atmosphere. The ground at this location was a bit more even, and Chris used his crutches this time. While they were walking to join the service, Christine felt a bit like prey to hunters. The cameras lurked behind trees, trying to capture the perfect money shot of the couple's natural emotions.



Their adherence to police orders and their patience paid off toward the end of Amy's service when Christine had a single tear roll from under her dark glasses, and Chris kissed the top of her head from behind while wrapping one arm around her stomach and one around her upper chest. His crutches were propped against his sides, and the image was caught from all angles. The scene became the signature of the sorrow that was caused in the tragedy.

<hr pg="8" />Some noticed that Amy's parents headed straight for the car and did not approach the couple. Chris and Christine accepted it and followed about half the crowd to the other end of the cemetery where Doug's procession was just arriving. As they were walking, a few reporters approached them seeking comment. Chris would just say that he didn't believe this was the right time for all that. They were there to help support what families they could. The news hounds moved off, and Chris and Christine noted to each other the number of fresh graves in the cemetery. A couple of hundred feet from Doug's service, Christine stopped dead in her tracks and went back a few paces to a brand new headstone.



"This is Sarah's," she whispered to Chris.



He propped himself on the crutches and faced her while she crouched down and touched the freshly laid sod in front of the stone marker. "Take your time, sweetheart," he said patiently.



She knelt on both knees and said quietly, "oh Sarah, Sarah. Why didn't you come with us? I wish you were here so you could see how right you were about Chris and I. I'll love you and remember your friendship forever."



Christine said a few more things so quietly that Chris couldn't pick up. He figured whatever it was was private between the two friends, and never asked what was said. At last, she got up and glimpsed Chris blowing a kiss toward the grave. Together they turned away and joined the service that had just gotten underway.



When everything was said and done, the pair went up to Doug's single mom who was lingering at the casket. They put an arm around her from each side and she turned to cry against them. They held her for a long while until she finally pulled away and looked at them.



"Thank God someone was spared in all this," she said. "I wish it were Doug, but since that wasn't meant to be, I couldn't think of two better people to carry on the light from your class. Please don't disappoint us. Do something great with the gift you've been given."



With that, she turned back to the funeral directors who led her to the car. They stared after her, both stunned by the weight of what she said. Her car left and they turned to head back to their own that was still on the other side of the cemetery. They almost jumped at the sight of the group that collected behind them. A number of teens that were in the crowd had hung back to wait until they could greet the last two seniors in their school. Many hugs were given and happy thoughts were said of CC's survival. None of the group wanted anything big out of this. They just wanted to say hello and in doing so, it became real to them that two of their upperclassmen role models were still alive.



Back in the car, Chris let out a huge sigh. Christine looked over and asked if he was okay. He said he was, and that sitting down was a big relief to his ankle and shoulders. Leaning against the crutches was getting tiresome.



"So, home now?" Chris asked.



Christine checked her watch. "We can make the 5:15 Mass at St. Peter's," she hopefully suggested.



"Can't we just go home?"



"You know, Jesus didn't get a rest when he carried a cross."



He looked at her. "You're the last person I would have thought would turn into a religious freak."



She smiled at that, but it was small. "I know, right? But...don't you want to thank God, Mary, Jesus, your grandmother, or whoever it was that was watching over us? I know I do."



He brushed away some hair from the side of her face and leaned over to kiss her cheek. "You're right. Thanks for keeping me on the straight road to heaven."



She grinned and punched his shoulder. "Oh shut up...I'm not that much of a Jesus Freak."



20 minutes later, they were standing in the front row just as the opening hymn started. The procession up the center aisle spread out at the altar and waited for the pastor who followed. He glanced over at the first pew and made a quick detour to hug and kiss Christine and shake Chris's hand. Then he returned to the waiting altar servers and performed the ritual bows and silent prayers that opened every Mass. When the music ended, he began with a different greeting than his usual "Good Evening."



"In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. (Amen) Great Evening!" 



The congregation was a bit confused by the first word, but still responded with an automatic "Good evening, Father."



He smiled broadly. "I'm sorry for the little detour I made on the way up here. I happened to see our parish's prodigal son and daughter here tonight. They were absent last weekend, but you've probably seen in the news that they couldn't help it. Please help me welcome back the lost, then found, two of the most active youths we've ever had in this parish, Chris and Christine."



The congregation all stood as one and applauded their happiness. The pair stood and turned, giving small waves of appreciation. The Mass proceeded as usual, and during the Prayer of Intentions, the priest offered up one thanking God for keeping the couple safe, and another for the souls of the rest of the class that had departed. At Communion, the pastor stepped over to give Chris and Christine their Hosts, saving Chris from having to step out and hobble up to receive his. As they were kneeling in their pew, several members of the congregation paused on their way back to their seats to give the couple a warm clasp on their hands. When the last person received their Sacrament, Chris and Christine both put their faces in their hands, offering silent prayers of thanks to the powers that be.



They made their way out through the back of the church to say hello to the pastor, but they were greeted by a number from the congregation who wanted to give their condolences for the couple's lost friends. Now getting used to the attention, both accepted the wishes with smiles and thank yous. They finally made it to the pastor who greeted them warmly again.



Eying the jewelry around Christine's neck, he said, "so this is the ring I've heard so much about." He picked it up and held it slightly away from her throat. He signed the cross over it with his other hand saying, "may God bless this ring and its bearer for the rest of her days." Then he picked up Chris's hand and touched both class rings. "May these two rings exchanged be a beacon to others of the bonds that hold these two souls' friendship together. Amen."



Christine smiled and placed a hand over his that was still holding the ring at her neck. "Thank you Father for blessing them. For a second there I was worried you were going to marry us."



He let go of the rings and smiled at her. "You two have been friends for a long time. Even when you didn't think you were during times of trouble. Are you sure you don't want to get married to Chris? I can arrange that, you know."



Both of them said a bunch of uh's and um's before he quieted their awkwardness.



The pastor continued while chuckling, "relax, you're both still young. When you're ready, you'll know it. I hope you'll ask me to officiate the event when it comes."



"IF it comes," Christine corrected. "You'll be the first we'll call."



They sat in the car wondering what to do for dinner. Chris powered on his phone and started listening to messages that had collected in his box during the day. Meanwhile, Christine called her mom and was told that they were having dinner in a few minutes. The few family members still in town from both families were gathering at her house to eat. Christine said they would be there shortly. She hung up and told Chris what the deal was. Then she asked what messages he got.



Chris's expression was crossed between confusion and disbelief. "Someone must have leaked this number. There were three offers to appear on different shows, but I think they're scams."



"Why?"



"Well, they were like, call this number with your credit card to arrange the flight to Chicago or New York, or Los Angeles."



"Damn some people are just scums to try that...preying on victims."



Chris agreed and he returned the phone to its holster on his belt. Christine started the car and drove the short distance to her house.



Chapter 17



Chris went home with his parents after dinner, so Christine settled into watching TV with her parents for the first time in what seemed like years. Still, she was distracted, not able to get Chris out of her head. Maybe it was good to take a break tonight, they had a bunch of things to do tomorrow to get ready for the trip on Monday. But then, questions started floating through her head. What was he doing right now? Did his mom help him out of that chest brace? Maybe going over there wouldn't be so bad, since all of their company had left or were going to the hotel to rest before returning home. He'd be alone downstairs, so maybe it would be possible to try out one of the foil packages Tom had bought for her the previous day?



Her cell phone beeped and she checked it, thinking it was another voice mail being left. She had to put it on Do Not Disturb since it was vibrating non stop during dinner. Christine had gotten four calls in the space of an hour regarding either news interview requests or scams similar to what Chris received. This time, however, it was a text from Chris. The simple "whatcha doin?" turned into a drawn out written conversation that was much about nothing. Then there was a message warning her not to come over tonight.



"Why not?" she typed back.



"Mom's ordered me to bed rest. My ankle's pretty swollen from being on it all day."



She typed a response, thinking to herself how much easier it was now that she had a phone with a full keyboard. Not dealing with shorthand made the messages seem more intelligent, also. "So? Just unlock the door when she goes to bed."



"No...she's planning to sleep in the chair. If she hears you, she'll send you away."



"Damnit."



"What?"



"I was going to surprise you tonight."



"You coming over wouldn't surprise me anymore."



"Hehe...No, it would be something else."



"What?"



"Wouldn't be a surprise if I told you."



Her dad shifted in his recliner. "Christine, would you please turn that off? The beeping is driving me crazy."



She said sorry to her dad and turned the phone to silent. It vibrated in her hand and her dad sighed. Christine got up and went to her room. The show was boring anyway.



The message read, "Then a hint?"



At first she got an idea to tie her t-shirt under her breasts and take a picture in her mirror of herself in a sexy pose. But she thought it through and decided it would be corny...and risky should either phone fall into the wrong hands. Instead she sent, "No hints. We're just gonna have to find another night to ourselves."



"Hmm...and maybe when my ankle is better," Chris sent back.



"I hope not that long."



There was no reply to that for several minutes, and foolishly she began to think she might have stepped over some unknown line with him. Finally there was a message. "Take your calls off DND."



She did and almost immediately her phone buzzed for a call. "Hey!" she answered.



"Hey...you want to go to LA?"



Christine frowned in confusion. "What?"



"Do...you...want...to...go..."



"To LA...I got that, but why?"



"The Tonight Show's producer called me asking if we would be guests on the show."



"Like as in Jay Leno?"



"Yes."



Her heart skipped a beat, but then she got guarded again, remembering the scam calls from earlier. "Someone's pulling your leg, Chris. I thought you were smarter than that."



"I think this one is legit. He said it took some convincing to get Leno on board, but they want us to come."



"How do you know it's real?"



"If we only do that show, they will pay for the whole trip."



She chuckled. "Yeah, right. I got that call earlier, too. They pay for the airfare, all you got to do is book your room and dinner reservations through some office."



"No, C. They're offering EVERYTHING. Air, room, car rental, two meals a day at restaurants of our choice, and a gift package that he said usually includes the wardrobe they have us wear on the set, large amount gift cards to local shops there, and some other nice things. Something about the gift package being paid for by their advertisers. So you want to go?"



"If we don't have to pay anything, sure! But I don't know when. Graduation is next weekend, and our plates are pretty full until then."



There was a beep in the background. "That's him...I'll ask about when and call you back. But if it works out for us, you'll do it?"



"Yes!"



"Alright, call you back in a few."



Christine's mind raced, almost not believing it was happening. It was almost 9, but the time difference did allow the timing to make sense. She had heard that the show tapes early, so this would be about an hour after they taped tonight's airing. She grew almost as nervous and excited as if she were watching the first three numbers being pulled of a winning lottery ticket she might be holding.



After pacing for what seemed an eternity, her phone buzzed again. "What did he say?" she asked when she picked it up.



"All set. They'll mail us the schedule for that day along with the passes and plane tickets."



"So when?"



"Two weeks from Tuesday. We leave Monday and come back Wednesday."



Christine could hardly talk. "Oh shit...is this really happening?"



"Yeah, I don't believe it myself."



They talked at length, dreaming what it would be like to go on national TV. Chris's exhaustion took him over at last, and he was talking less and less. Christine had to shout over the phone to wake him so he could hear her say good night. A text appeared saying only "luv u" and she had no doubt he collapsed into sleep as soon as he hit send.



Christine got moving around the next morning a bit late, likely because it took her forever to get to sleep. Her parents had gone to Mass and it occurred to her for the first time how empty the large house was without her brother and sisters around anymore. She padded into the kitchen wearing only a t-shirt and panties, scoping out the 'fridge for something to eat. Setting the plate of fruit she fixed down on the breakfast bar, the morning paper caught her eye as she was propping herself on a stool.



"The Last Goodbyes" blared the headline. Below was a large picture of Chris holding her from behind, kissing the top of her head. Ringing the large photo was a series of smaller ones, each showing a different moment of the burials. One was of her kneeling at Sarah's grave with Chris patiently looking on, propped on his crutches. Others were of the two of them supporting Carol in the church at Wendy's funeral, hugging Doug's mom, and greeting underclass schoolmates. She hadn't known the cameras had stayed that long, and she wished that they weren't there, period. Private moments of theirs were now displayed for the whole town to see. Nothing sacred, I guess, she thought.



Nonetheless, she read the story and thought it was very well done. It described the somber mood, who was there, and related that Doug's funeral was the last of the perished class. A side story proclaimed that graduation ceremonies were still on as scheduled. That article also expressed the shock some felt when it was found out that the senior Grad Night trip was not canceled. The sting of the small story was somewhat abated in a columnist's editorial where he defended the couple and explained that they had invited parents to go in their lost children's place.



Christine shook her head in disappointment that one of the article writers just didn't get what her and Chris were trying for with the trip tomorrow. With a sigh, she finished her fruit and refolded the paper. She headed for the shower and got dressed. 



Her parents were in the living room when she emerged. They greeted her with mouths hung open.



"What the hell, Christine?!" her dad shot at her.



She froze in her tracks and glanced down to check herself. Yeah, she did remember a shirt and shorts. She was barefoot, but that was normal. She didn't sneak out last night. Chris certainly didn't walk or drive there overnight. Maybe she forgot that they wanted her to go to Mass with them? After searching her memory, she decided that wasn't what was wrong either. "What do you mean, Daddy?"



He rewound the Tivo a bit and a black screen appeared. Next, white script came on and a narrator read it. "In two weeks, Jay gets serious." There was a quick photo slide show of NBC's coverage of the tornado set to dramatic music, ending with a very similar image that was in the newspaper today. The screen went black again before it faded up the now-famous prom portrait of the two. The narrator continued, "Exclusive to The Tonight Show, the Prom Miracles. Two weeks. Their story. Only on NBC."



Her dad hit pause and the two parents looked at her.



"Oh crap," she blurted.



"When did you agree to this?" her mom asked.



"The producer called Chris last night. We agreed that if we do it, it would have to be after graduation."



"So when were you going to tell us?"



"I guess right about now, Daddy. I didn't think there'd be a COMMERCIAL about it...at least not this quickly." Then in a small voice, "surprise?"



"You're right we're surprised. Why didn't you ask us first? Your mom and I have already made a commitment to be at a conference for that week, so we can't go with you."



Her mom spoke up. "How much is the trip going to cost?"



"No, Chris worked it out to where we don't pay anything. They're sending us the plane tickets, paying for our room, car rental, food for two meals on the two days, the works. What? Are you going to punish me for being invited to appear on The Tonight Show? Tell me that I'm not going to be able to go?"



Her mom and dad softened and smiled. "No," said her dad. "We're just concerned that you'll be taking a trip by yourself to the other side of the country."



"But Chris will be with me."



Both parents opened their mouth to object, but that argument was difficult to overcome, seeing how his intuition and quick thinking had saved their daughter's life. It was the very reason they were having this discussion. Finally her mom said, "be careful and remember to bring back pictures."



Christine raced over to hug her parents then literally bounced away to her room before returning immediately after. "Uh, where's my suitcase?"



"You're leaving now? They said the show was in two weeks," said her mom.



Christine rolled her eyes. "No...I have to pack for the trip tomorrow morning."



Her dad asked, "are you going to be home at all this summer?"



"Daddy!"



He chuckled. "It's in the attic with the rest of the bags...just to the right of the ladder."



"Thanks!" Then she bounced away to retrieve it.



Chris called her about an hour later, asking if her parents knew about the trip in two weeks. She answered that they found out by way of commercial. He said something similar had happened there, since he slept so late.



As they were talking, Christine felt that if he were there, she'd jump his bones. He was going on about some little thing and not meaning to, she let her mind wander. What she wouldn't give to be able to just lay on top of him, sliding those legs between her thighs, letting her breasts caress his chest and stomach, or just stare into his eyes until her sexual center melted.



"Christine! So?"



She snapped her head back and forth. "Sorry. I was daydreaming. What?"



"What time are you picking me up?"



"Oh! Well, the bus leaves at 3:30...we have to be there by 3."



"Yeah."



"You want me to pick you up after dinner tonight? Then we could wake up and be ready to head out at 2:30 ish."



"Not sure that's a good idea. We'll be up all night talking."



Christine mumbled under her breath, "maybe not talking exactly."



"What was that?"



"Ahem...I was just getting Pepper to leave me alone," she said to recover. "So what if we did stay up? I'm sure almost everyone would be asleep on the bus at first."

<hr pg="9" />Chris agreed, they ended the call, and Christine set about finishing packing.



She parked her mom's SUV in Chris's driveway at the back of the house around 7:30. The garage door was up, so she went to the kitchen door inside and gave it a rap. His mom answered and welcomed her inside. She offered a seat at the table and Christine took it. Chris was along shortly and joined the two females. The topic was of course the trip in two weeks. But, as not much was known of specifics, it shortly moved to the trip tonight. The conversation drew on for close to an hour before his mom attempted to approach their college decision. Neither wanted to think about that right now, and Chris asked Christine to get his bag from the guest room.



It was an abrupt request, but effective. She got up and on her way through the living room, she said hi to his step-dad. Christine retrieved the duffel and when she returned to the kitchen, Chris was already standing and saying goodbye to his mom.



She hugged him and said, "remember to keep your pants zippered up."



"Whatever, Mom. As if anything like that will happen on this trip."



She flicked her eyes toward Christine. "Just be safe. Stay out of trouble and have fun."



The "safe" comment was lost on Chris, but Christine caught the double meaning of be safe on the trip, and be safe intimately. She understood, correctly, that his mom knew he was 18 now, and in a roundabout way conceded that things will happen, whether she preached against it or not. The least she could do is urge that they be careful.



"We'll be fine, Mrs. Zehyr. There's like 40 people who will be chaperoning us on this trip," she said as she hugged the mother.



Chris chuckled in the front seat as she started the large SUV.



"What?" she asked, backing out through the gates of the driveway.



"I never noticed how tiny you were until I see you now driving this monster."



She smiled as she put the truck in gear and headed back toward her house. "Eh, it hasn't been a problem so far," she quipped.



Christine left his duffel in the truck, since her mom earlier said they could use it to meet the bus at school. She held the screen door open for Chris and he led her to her room. She flipped on the TV and joined Chris when he stretched out on her bed. Nestling her head against the crook of his arm, they watched a couple of shows, occasionally chatting about the past and future weeks.



Her mom knocked on the door and entered to say good night and farewell to the couple, relieved to see them still dressed. She wasn't completely naïve to the fact that it was only a matter of time before the two figured things out, but she was happy that if they were fooling around, they were polite enough to not throw it in her face.



Once she left, Chris asked, "you excited about the trip?"



Christine turned her head in his arm and answered, "I suppose, why?"



"You seem distracted tonight."



She waited for the distant telltale thump of the door upstairs and knew that her parents were settled in their room for the night. She pointed up at the sound. "I was waiting for that."



He didn't catch it. "What?"



"My parents' room door."



"Why were you waiting for that?"



"So I could do this," she said as she rolled gently on top of him. She lowered her head and kissed him softly.



The kiss heated up quickly as she teased his lips with her tongue. He allowed her inside, and they played tag inside each others mouths. At the same time, she cradled his face with her hands and his rubbed her back. Her breath quickened with his, and she broke the kiss to sit up and take off her shirt, exposing her lace bra to his eyes. He inhaled sharply when her t-shirt was discarded and she could feel him becoming erect against her butt.



Christine unhooked the support garment from the back and held the straps there for a moment. "I am so ready for this, are you?"



He nodded, thinking that this might just be some fun exploring before catching a nap until they had to leave. She ducked her shoulders out of the straps and tossed the pretty undergarment to the side of her bed. To his amazement and thrill, the globes stayed mostly in place. "Oh my God," he whispered. "You are so beautiful."



Her face nearly radiated light. Wordlessly, she responded by picking up his hands and placing them on her chest. He began to just start squeezing, but she moved them off. She replaced them, and, confused he squeezed them again, almost fighting against her hands. Christine moved his hands back away from her again, then once more placed them upon her. This time he just let them rest against her soft flesh. She guided his hands slowly around, leading him to what pressure and touch she liked. He followed her moves, and before long she let go and let him explore.



She gazed into his eyes lovingly. "Mmm, good. You're a fast learner."



He sat up and replied, "I try." Then he sighed, almost afraid to ask. "Can I lick them?"



To respond, she reached behind his head and brought him to her breast. His tongue lapped twice over her sensitive nipple, then he latched on. "They're attached, sweetie. Not so hard. Ohh...yeah, much better."



One of his hands slid behind her back and the other played gently with her other breast. Once in a while, his fingers would pinch the nipple, but let the pressure off right away. It sent sparks of pleasure rippling down to between her legs. While he played using his mouth and hand, Christine held him and planted kisses to the top of his head. Her hips started gyrating against him without her even knowing it. The friction between their clothes caused her satin panties to move deliciously against her.



She gently pushed him away after a while and rolled off. 



"Did I do something wrong?" he asked.



"No, take off your clothes," Christine said with a throaty voice that he had never heard before. 



That voice was sexy as hell, and he all but tore the threads to remove them. She shimmied out of her shorts and panties, and she heard his breath catch. Grinning to herself, Christine reached into her nightstand drawer, moved some things around until she retrieved one of the foil wrapped disks she had hidden a couple of days ago. She turned back to him and revealed what was concealed in her closed hand.



"This is the surprise I mentioned last night."



His dick twitched at the thought of what she was presenting to him. "Are you sure? This will change the relationship between us forever."



"You promise?" She straddled his thighs, and he could feel the wet heat sliding against one of them. "I want to go on this trip as more than friends. I want us to be lovers. Can you handle that?"



He nodded.



She tore the package and proceeded to unroll it over his firm hot shaft. "Good. I love you Chris. You don't know how badly I want to share this with you."



"I'm getting an inkling." He started stroking her thighs, chancing occasional brushes of his fingertips against her lower lips. "You're so soft, so warm, so beautiful. And I've loved you for so long. What did I do to deserve you? To deserve THIS with you?"



She smiled, rose up and settled against him, pleasuring her clit against his latex encased shaft. "Thank you. You've always been there for me, even when I pushed you away. Even when I was a bitch on drugs and didn't realize it." Her face saddened slightly. "When Sarah asked why there wasn't anything between us, I suddenly realized that what I was looking for is right there. You're so sweet, handsome, talented, smart...mmm...quick learner. Oh man, you catch on fast...keep doing that and we might not need to go any further."



He had sat up again, and was licking and sucking on her neck and earlobe while he listened. "Maybe I should stop, then," he grinned.



"Oh please don't. I was just saying that it felt so good." She was openly humping against him now, and his hips were moving with her. "Chris, I swear if you turn asshole on me after this, I'll fucking kill you."



"I'll do my best, but let me know if I don't see it."



She rose up and centered his tip to her hole. "Agreed." She lowered herself until she felt him push against her crown.



Chris was in heaven feeling her lips slide over the head of his penis. But after only an inch, there was resistance. "Am I at the end already?"



Christine was panting from the effort of holding herself back. It was exquisite so far, and it took everything she had to keep herself from giving in to the temptation of letting him bottom out. "Not hardly." She sighed mightily. "This is my first time, so I gotta get used to you. Just please be patient and don't buck into me."



He was enjoying her slight movements as his tip slid barely in and out. "First time? You mean that's your...uh cherry?"



She sighed as she sank a touch more, but it smarted and she rose back up quickly. "Yes." She smiled.



His face contorted into concern. "Should we get some towels, or something? What if your mom decides to wash your sheets while we're gone?"



Christine kept working her hips and snorted. "I thought you've been through this with Cathy. Or, maybe you weren't her first?"



He shook his head. "No, you're about to be my first. I want this to be special for you. I'll get whatever you need, do whatever you want so you can enjoy it with me without worrying."



She tested again, but it still stung. She must have shown it this time, because the unintended look was mirrored in his face. Christine smiled and said, "baby, don't worry. It only smarts a little. Anyway, Daddy and I had this talk long ago. That whole cherry/blood thing is a myth if you do things right."



"I don't understand...what happens when I break it? I mean, doesn't it split open, gush out blood and cause you pain briefly or something like that?"



Christine giggled and was able to successfully chance another millimeter or two. "It doesn't work like that. You read too many stories written by guys on the Internet. What is perceived as my cherry is just a ring of skin and....well, anyway, just keep doing what you're doing. I'm wet enough...I just got to get it to stretch with me."



"I'm not doing anything. So, you haven't had periods before...?"



She sighed in frustration. "Can you let it go? I'm trying to stay horny here." It started out serious, but she couldn't help but giggle at her last statement.



"Sorry, I was just curious."



She moved slightly different and it sent delicious tingles through his body, making his hips buck up ever so slightly. There was a sting, but not too bad.



"Whoa...keep still. If you make me tear, then you will have blood." She couldn't believe she was drawn into this conversation. "Well, since we are waiting for things to match up...I do have monthly visits from Aunt Flo, if you must know. And since we're so personal right now, yes, I use tampons...but they are MUCH skinnier than you. What I'm working on is like a crown, not a barrier. So, if you must have your cherry, ram into me. It will split, you'll have your blood, and I'll be sore and you'll have a rather unhappy girl on your hands tomorrow."



He reached up to her face hovering over his and brushed away the strands of hair that had fallen over her ears. "The last thing I want to do right now is hurt you. I just didn't know."



"We're such geeks, talking about this right now," she smiled. After a few more slow bounces she said, "okay, I think I'm there. You ready?"



Chris only grunted.



"Okay, here we go...keep still, let me do the work." She sank herself very very slowly on his mast. At last, her hips rested against his, and at the same time she felt his tip against the end of her canal. Her eyes rolled back and she sighed, "Ohh, sweet Jesus, that's good. You can move with me now, just go slow at first."



Chris groaned his agreement and started moving his hips. He sat up to kiss her and they locked mouths while grinding against each other. The two had finally become one. 

