TITLE    : Two Hearts Stand Alone Pt. 05
STORYID  : two-hearts-stand-alone-pt-05
SUMMARY  : Showtime for the couple.
AUTHOR   : photodad@lit
DATE     : 2010-10-22
CATEGORY : adult-romance
FLAGS    : h
TAGS     : |romance novella|friends|prom|18-year-old|romantic|softcore|relationship|tragedy|


<i>Author's note:



Easier to follow this involved story if you have already read the first four parts.



Please remember to vote sincerely at the end.



Thanks!</i>



***



It had been agreed in the parking lot that the large family gatherings would meet at a Mediterranean restaurant for an early dinner near the beach. Well, rather it was mandated by Chris's overreaching aunt, but the food was delicious there so both families agreed. Christine was driving Chris there, and since their families had gotten used to them being together now, there wasn't even an attempt at deterring them.



"Can I have one of my pills?" Chris asked.



Christine had decided since the trip to carry them with her, since he seemed too stubborn to bother with them. She pointed to her small purse wedged in the console between them, and he opened it to find his bottle on top, feeling a bit self-conscious in doing so. To him, a girl's purse always seemed to be her private domain.



"Hurts that bad? I told you you should have used your crutches."



"No," he sighed. "I think I'll need it to deal with my aunt around your family," he joked.



Christine just glanced warily at him as he popped the white disk into his mouth and swallowed.



"Actually, you're right. It hurts like a son of a bitch."



It didn't escape Christine that he put the bottle back and replaced her purse without so much as a glance to see what else was in there. Even after all they had been through the last month, it still amazed and thrilled her that the level of trust and respect between them was so high.



"So, are you thinking of taking that offer?"



"What offer? Cathy's Project Graduation, or one of the others?"



She sighed. "No, the bigger offer...you're thinking you're gonna take that job, aren't you?"



Chris closed his eyes. "Oh man, why are you bringing that up now?"



"Well, we just freaking graduated. SON OF A BITCH!" She stomped on the brakes to avoid being sideswiped on the bridge. "What IS it with the drivers around here?!"



Chris picked up his bad foot after his seeming attempt at the Flintstone brake maneuver. "OW! Damn, that really didn't help things."



She sucked in a breath through her teeth. Some due to the jar the belt gave her chest, but most was out of empathy for him. "I'm sorry," she said as she resumed speed to match traffic.



"Not your fault...good eye! I'd have missed that."



"Hmph...somehow I doubt it." Her breath was returning to normal now. "So, don't let that distract you. I'm right, aren't I?"



"Yes, you're right that we 'freakin graduated'."



"Grr! Fine, as I was saying...we just graduated, so in normal times wouldn't friends...or couples...normally have a conversation about their futures right about now?"



"I suppose. I thought you wanted to talk about it later."



"Well, I did. But, tonight you told Tina something that made me wonder where you're leaning." He didn't respond right away, so she added, "And the bishop called this morning."



Chris shot a look at her. "The bishop's office called YOU this morning?"



She shook her head. "No, I said the BISHOP called this morning. He wants to meet us in his office on Monday morning."



"Why do I feel like I'm being called to the principal's office?"



"Ha! That's what I told him. He said that we need to make a decision soon regarding where we go from here, and that he would be happy to mediate for us."



"He's a little biased to be mediating, don't you think? Sounds like he wants to press for an answer."



"Maybe, but he's right in a way, too. We've been using our busy schedules as an excuse not to talk about it. If we head to college, we have to state that intention soon to get registered for classes. I just wanted to see where you stand at this point."



Chris scratched his head in frustration. "I'm torn, C. I really don't know. I like the idea of the job, but I don't want to be without you."



"Okay. That's all I asked for."



She found a spot, parked, and they made their way into the eclectic restaurant with a definite Greek flair. They made a point of donning their caps before walking in.



Being the first to arrive out of their group, they informed the young hostess that there would be 23 of them dining tonight. While they waited for the hostess to arrange tables in the back dining room, a tall stout man in a stained apron approached them from the kitchen, all smiles.



"Hey Chris!" his pleasant voice bellowed. "How's my nephew?"



Chris returned the smile, leaned a crutch against his side and reached out to shake the bearlike paw that had been outstretched toward him. "Hi, Mr. S.! I'm well. How's things for you?"



"Oh, slower right now, but we making it. You have football injury?" the man asked while pointing to the walking cast.



"Eh, I'm in track. My team won State."



"Very good! This came after, I hope!"



"It did."



"Chris helped them win. He ran a personal best for his relay."



The large man's smile lit up the room on hearing Christine's voice. "Ah! I'm sure! My nephew can do anything, can't he!" He looked at Chris. "And who is this beautiful fairy you're with?"



"Mr. S., this is my girlfriend, Christine."



"Much pleasure to meet you! You stay with her, Chris. She'll give beautiful grand nieces and nephews!" He pointed to their caps. "Big day, eh?"



"Sure is. We just graduated!" Christine bubbled.



Even Chris was surprised that he was enveloped in the huge arm so quickly. "Graduated! Congratulations, Nephew! Ah, you a man, now! Yes, big day! I'll get something special ready just for you, okay? Enjoy!" Just like that, he disappeared into the kitchen.



Their families started trickling in, and Chris informed them that the tables were being put together.



Christine looked up at him questioningly. "I didn't know Mr. S. was an uncle of yours."



He chuckled. "He's not. My uncle and aunt go to the same church as he. So, he always calls me nephew. He owns this restaurant."



"I knew that. Just, I didn't know he knew you so well."



"Well, I don't see him that often, and when I do, it's either here on special occasions or at their church's Greek Festival."



Christine nodded. "Grand nieces and nephews," she laughed to herself.



The orders for dinner were placed and everybody was chatting happily when their waitress came back with two bottles of wine.



"Compliments of the owner," she said, a little confused. "Um, he said that you two were limited to one glass each. I can't pour it for you, though. But what you do with those empty glasses is up to you."



She poured the wine in all the other glasses and left to fix the salads. Chris's uncle did the honors for the couple, ignoring the glaring eyes of his sister. He raised his glass and they all toasted the success of the graduates. But, Chris and Christine didn't take a sip until after Chris made a quiet toast to the memory of their classmates. When they set their glasses down, Christine whispered a concerned warning to him...a reminder that he had just taken a rather potent pain killer. He nodded and gave her a peck, assuring her that he wouldn't take more than a couple more sips.



Dinner went surprisingly well, as Chris's aunt reined herself mostly in. The food, as always at that restaurant, was prepared with perfection, a fact made obvious by the silence of the group while they were eating. The waitress cleared the dinner plates when they finished, and suddenly shiny bags were being brought out from under the table. They had seen their loved ones bring them in, but had forgotten they were there. Soon, Chris and Christine nearly disappeared behind their pile of cards and gifts, large and small. Christine, of course, gushed at each one and made a show of going to the giver to give them a hug and kiss. Chris felt like an ass just sitting there, a fact he made known verbally. But, it was dismissed and everyone said they knew it couldn't be helped.



Christine's thanks to her brother was slightly different than the others, as she cupped her hand over her mouth at his ear. He nodded, and she repeated her huge hug. He fidgeted under the table, and then she pranced back to her seat. Last were the large gifts from their parents. Chris was handed his first, and ignoring the envelope he ripped the gold paper off the box. He wasn't quite fast enough to hide the disappointment on his face.



"Thanks! It's a nice CD rack," he said while putting on the best smile he could manage.



"You're welcome, sweetie!" his mom enthused. "Don't forget your card."



Halfheartedly, he slid his finger under the flap and opened the envelope. On top of his disappointment was the embarrassment of pulling out a card obviously designed for kindergarten graduation. Really? My folks have lost it, he thought. Steeling himself for yet another humiliation, he opened the card, barely noticing the picture falling out onto his lap. He read the enthusiastic congratulations from his parents, still not getting why they were still grinning wildly.



"Thanks," he repeated.



His mom got a little frustrated. "Aren't you even going to look at the picture?"



Chris picked up the rectangle from his lap and turned it over. "What the...?" 



The setting was definitely his downstairs room at home, and he recognized the table, but it couldn't be. On the table was a Bose shelf system he had been lusting over for some time. However, only Christine knew what he wanted since it was mostly a far-out wish, as it was too expensive to actually have. His mom laughed at his being mute, saying that Uncle Bill set it up right after he and Christine left for the graduation.



He looked over at Christine who sat with her head down, smiling out of the corner of her mouth. Then, he got up and limped around the table to hug his mom. "Thanks, it's too much!"



"You're welcome. Don't be mad at Christine. We had to almost beat it out of her to find out what you wanted."



"Well, thanks again. You really had me going with the cheesy card and all!"



While he was up, he made a trip around the table, giving everyone a thank you and a hug.



Nancy brought a large flat gift to her sister, proclaiming that it was from their parents. Christine did the opposite of her boyfriend and opened her card first. It was elegant and plain, stating simply on the front, "Congratulations." On the inside, written in her mother's handwriting of course, were heartfelt thoughts on her graduation. Christine smiled back a tear and tore into the package. She gasped when she saw the black messenger bag laptop case. Attached to the front was a note that the items that go inside were waiting in her room at home. She squealed in delight and ran over to her parents, hugging and kissing them repeatedly.



Chris knew how big a gift this was for her. Her computer was a hand-me-down that barely had enough oomph to run it's operating system, word processor, and e-mail. Besides that, it was a heavy hot beast of a desktop model that would have been difficult to squeeze into any dorm. He knew how much it meant to her, but only one thing occupied his mind right now. Up to this, the gifts were void of any names or mascots of schools, presumably because even they didn't know what they were going to do yet. But, staring up at him on the front of the black bag were the bright blue and orange "AU" of Auburn University. He tried telling himself that Christine always talked about going to AU, and how much it appealed to her, even in freshman year. She followed the progress of their football team every year, so it would make sense to give her this bag, wouldn't it? But, nagging the back of his head was the other possibility that she had made her mind up without him, and would be leaving for the school in a couple of short months.



He snapped out of it when Christine returned to her chair next to him just as the booming voice of the owner came from behind. "How was everything? Good, yes?"



Everyone happily responded in the affirmative.



Two waitresses were carrying trays behind him. "Good, good!" He wrapped an arm each around Chris and Christine. "Congratulations, Nephew, and Niece!" 



No one corrected him.



He reached behind him and set a small dessert plate in front of them. "Baklava A 'la Mode, on the house!"



The waitresses served their trays to the rest of the group, each telling the owner thank you. He responded to them, "My pleasure, my pleasure! Enjoy!" and he retreated to the kitchen.



Christine took a bite of the rich, flaky pastry and exclaimed, "holy crap!"



"Good?" asked Chris.



She finished chewing and swallowed. "Only the best thing I've ever eaten!"



"You've never had it before?"



"Well, I've had baklava, but nothing like this. I don't remember it being on the menu here."



"It's not," Chris's aunt interrupted proudly. "It goes so fast, he serves it only on special request."



Chris mentally rolled his eyes. Like SHE had anything to do with it.



The dessert was savored in silence by all at the table. Then, one by one, the sound of a fork clattering to the plate indicated satiated bellies. The cocktail party atmosphere returned when everyone was finished and the waitress cleared the plates. When she returned to ask how to divide the check, a full-scale verbal argument erupted, and the competition began among and between the families to see who appeared to be the most generous.



One thing became clear very quickly, neither Chris nor Christine would be footing their tab. When this much was resolved, Christine went over and told their moms about the invitations to Project Graduations, asking if they could be excused to change and go. The moms looked at each other and agreed, both saying that tomorrow afternoon would be reserved for "family time."



She gave their moms a kiss each and returned to Chris. Taking his hand she said quietly, "Let's go. They'll bring our gifts home for us."



They excused themselves and thanked the group for dinner.



She had picked him up at his house after getting changed, both looking much more comfortable in t-shirts and jeans. Once she started the car, she turned to him and asked, "Ready for your graduation gift?"



He pounded a fist into his hand. "I haven't had time to get you one," he said with a pointed look at his plastic boot.



Her eyes sparkled. "Neither have I, but we're making time now." She put the car in gear and headed out of his neighborhood.



A few minutes later, she pulled into a space at a hotel downtown. Chris was slightly confused, but his heart raced. He tried calming it by justifying to himself that Christine was simply getting a room to crash in so they wouldn't disturb company by returning late after the parties.



She was told at the desk that the room would be $150, and she promptly pulled out a small wad of twenties from her purse. They were given keys and directions to their room. Chris questioned her in the elevator about the money, and offered to split it with her. She replied that the room was Tom's gift given to her at dinner. At first, Chris didn't understand, but then remembered her whispered question to her brother. The two must have practiced their discreet hand-offs over the years.



Once in their room, Chris promptly sat on the bed, his head still in a slight fog from the medication. Christine looked around the plush room, then stopped in front of him.



"That wine made me warm," she said while she pulled off her t-shirt. "And horny," she added with a purr.



Chris's breath caught at the sight of her lacy black bra. He nearly hyperventilated when she kicked off her tennis shoes and wriggled out of her jeans, revealing matching skimpy panties.



"The room is his gift to us, but THIS," she made a sweeping gesture over her body with her hand. "This is my gift to you."



Chris gulped audibly. "What the hell did I do to deserve you?"



She smiled. "Being yourself won me." She glided cat-like toward him. "What you do now will determine if you get to keep me. Wanna open your present?" she cooed.



"I love you," he whispered hoarsely before planting a gentle kiss on her bellybutton.



Her hands cradled his head against her. "Mmm, that's a nice start. I love you too, sweetheart." * * *



Chris was awakened from his sex-induced coma by the buzzing of his phone on the nightstand.



"Hey, Chris! Whatcha doing?"



He propped himself up slowly on his elbows, the movement waking the sleeping beauty beside him. "Oh, just taking a nap. What's up, Cathy?"



"We just got out of our ceremony."



"Congratulations!"



"Thanks. Anyway, we were wondering if we'll see you tonight?"



"Um, what time is it?"



"Almost nine. You must be out of it. I thought you two would be celebrating somewhere."



"We did...our families went out, and the restaurant let C and I have some wine."



"I see. Well, if you come, is she okay to drive? I could pick y'all up..."



"No. No, that's not necessary. Uh, you said ten, right?"



"Yeah. I hope y'all will come."



"Sure, we're getting ready now. Might not stay long, though."



"Okay. I'll meet you at the ticket window at 10ish. Our coordinator figured you wouldn't stay, so he said you two would be exempt from the lock-in, being that you're not from our school and all."



"Cool! We'll see you in a bit."



Christine was sitting up and looking at him. "Cathy?"



"Yeah. You still wanted to go, right?"



She put her arms around him and squeezed her naked breasts against his side. "If we must. But I think I'd rather stay with you here all night."



"I wouldn't object to that," he replied with a smile and peck.



"That would leave Cathy waiting..."



"So? She can live with disappointment." He leaned down to nibble on her collarbone. "Screw it. Let's stay here and mate like bunnies. How many did you bring?"



Christine smiled at him. "10, but we used two." Stretching she added, "Yes...definitely...the...best gift so far." She rolled out of bed and padded around the end, all hints of being self-conscious while naked around him were far gone now.



"Where you going?"



"Taking a shower."



"Oh."



"Heh. Don't pout. We'll come back in a couple of hours. Just think of this as rest for later. Besides, you know our moms are going to ask how it went." With that, she closed the door.



Cathy was waiting for them as promised. As soon as she saw them round the gate, she came bursting up to them, flinging her lithe arms around Chris first, then Christine. She led them up to the window, babbling incessantly about her night so far. Although it wasn't necessary, she introduced them to her school's graduation coordinator out of formality and he greeted them warmly. He told the staff member behind the glass that they were not on the list, but he wanted to let them in, pulling out his wallet. When the girl looked up to see who he was talking about, a dawn of recognition swept over her face. She pushed away the coordinator's credit card and asked the two to put their hands in the window. They did and she handstamped them, giving her congratulations and saying that they were good to go. Everybody thanked her and the three went in, being wished to have a great time.



The whole event reminded Chris of his first prom with Cathy last year. Curiosity got the better of her fellow seniors and they came up to them for the first twenty minutes or so. But, after that, the novelty wore off, and suddenly the reality was that the only person he and Christine knew was Cathy. Still, they made the best of things, taking a train ride around the edge of the park before Cathy challenged Christine to a go-kart race. 



Chris watched from the fence, laughing at both girls' expressions as they passed. It was clear that neither wanted to lose to the other, their jaws set in pure determination. On the yellow light lap, Christine surprisingly rammed Cathy, sending her spinning into the opposite rail. In Chris's mind, Cathy was the ruthless one, especially after her show in Christine's hospital room last year. But, he figured all princesses needed to exert their dominance at some point, and Christine sure did turn the tables now.

<hr pg="2" />When all the karts came to a halt in the starting queue, both girls jumped out and Cathy turned to face Christine. Chris was sure a fight was imminent, but instead of yelling, it was like watching a silent movie. He couldn't hear what was said between them over the idling small engines. Christine spoke first, her lips a blur while she waved her arms animatedly at length, and Cathy appeared ready to rebuke the statement, but then seemed to reflect on it. She said two words and then the girls hugged each other.



They came up to him, smiling as though nothing happened.



"What was that about?" he asked warily.



Cathy beat Christine to the punch. "Girls," is all she said.



He checked with Christine by glancing at her, and she nodded.



"Let's get some pizza!" bubbled Cathy as she bounced in the lead toward the birthday party room.



Several of her classmates were already there for a late night snack. They seemed to accept the new couple, chatting idly with them about small things. But, the conversation ground to a halt all too soon. CC could both feel what was on their minds, and sure enough one of the girls braved the question.



"So, what was it like, being trapped for over a day?" asked a small, outspoken girl.



Cathy shot a look at her, but Chris said it was okay. The pair tag-teamed to give some details about the dark and dusty hidey-hole they were in. The other teens were awed by most of the tale, their curiosities being answered at long last. And, they grew very sad as Chris expressed the grief the two shared when it was pretty obvious their classmates were gone, since 12 hours had passed and there were no signs anyone was looking for them. The topic ended after they described what they remembered of the rescue.



One of the three guys in the group asked the two how they met Cathy, and that launched a more cheery conversation. The group became fascinated with the retreat, and several expressed regret that they didn't get a chance to go on one. This turned the discussion to the future when one of the girls said that she was going to college to become a guidance counselor. When asked what they were going to do, Christine answered that she was going into elementary education, something she'd talked with Chris about since she was a sophomore. Chris was still undecided, leaning towards business administration, but admitted that the field didn't quite feel like a match to what he wanted. He liked leading groups and felt competent at it, but he just didn't see a degree that quite matched what he was looking for.



Several in the group started breaking off, looking to squeeze in as much of the park that night as possible. Cathy stayed with them, introducing them to the new bunches that were filtering in for some pizza fuel. At about one, Christine yawned involuntarily and Chris jumped at that opportunity to excuse them from the rest of the party, saying that they had to entertain family tomorrow.



Cathy insisted on walking them out, promising the others there that she would be back in a few minutes. When they reached the entrance doors, one of the chaperones put a hand up in warning to Cathy, saying that while Chris and Christine were allowed to leave at any time, Cathy would have to stay here as she signed a "contract" agreeing to the lock-in for tonight. She turned to the two and gave Christine a hug. Her embrace to Chris was warmer and longer lived.



"When will I see you again?" she asked softly in his ear.



"I really don't know," he answered honestly. "But, the way things are going right now, I'll probably be around town. So, you might see me sooner than later." It was entirely possible, since she said earlier that she was attending the local junior college in the Fall to get her liberal arts out of the way.



"Well, I hope so. I'd hate to lose you as a friend, too."



"We'll still be friends as long as you'll let me," he promised.



They kissed cheeks, said goodbye, and she watched as they faded out of view through the gate.



"That was, hmm, nice," Christine offered when they reached her brother's car.



"Oh, that didn't sound baited at all," he replied sarcastically.



"That's not it," she defended. "I know you didn't mean to, but her hanging on you like that just now made my stomach turn a bit."



"Jealous much?" Chris leaned against the car and propped his crutches beside him.



"I'm always jealous when it comes to you. I can't help it."



"Ditto. But, you don't have to be."



"Oh yeah? Why's that?"



He pulled her by the waist into him. "Because I love you. No one else." He began kissing her with urgency, snaking his hands down into her back pockets. When they came up for air, he said, "let me prove it to you."



"Mmm, and how do you plan on doing that?"



"Take me back to the hotel and I'll show you," he winked.



"I'd like to see you try. With that ankle, I've been having to do all the work." That hit harder than she intended and she noticed his face fell just a bit. "Sorry. I didn't mean it like that."



"I know," he said softly.



"Look, I'm sorry I said that. I really, REALLY enjoy what we're doing so far. I love feeling you under me and inside me. Just promise me that I can take breaks once in a while. My thighs start burning after a while if I'm up there too long."



The humor attempt hit it's mark and he laughed. "Fine, if it shows you that I care, I'll go easy on you." He gave her a squeeze from inside her pockets.



"Not too easy, I hope," she said with an impish grin.



Chapter 25



The next day went as expected. They didn't have to act tired when they got to their respective homes, as they had spent most of the night exploring each other and discovering what drives the other wild. Now, coming home with only four protective disks left, Christine mumbled to her mom that she was going to take a nap.



Jill woke her about three hours later, saying that the family was heading to the late morning Mass. Christine got up, took a shower (even though she had just taken one before they left the hotel), changed into a summer dress, and found she still had a few minutes left before they were to head to church almost across the street. Jill had returned to Christine's room for some girl talk. She asked if Christine had a good time with Chris. The question was said in a knowing tone, so Christine made no pretense as to what they really did. Jill listened attentively, showing no judgment of what was said. If anything, she was supportive and Christine deducted that Tom and Jill were no angels themselves when they first were going out.



The rest of the day was crammed with family activities. Mass, then lunch out, board games, a touch football game in the front yard, barbecue for dinner, and then the adults had wine-imbibed conversations while the "kids" played cards in the kitchen. When Tom got bored of cards, he suggested having a jam session in the formal living room. The adults heard that in the den and excitedly moved into the living room for the impromptu concert. Tom urged Christine to get her violin and he started off by playing an upbeat tune, which Christine joined with her fiddle. Their sisters and cousins sang beautifully to the delight of their parents. The music continued for about an hour, ending with Christine's vocal solo of "The Rose." The song was moving, especially being sung by Christine's clear beautiful voice. But, when the family members started thinking about how this night nearly never happened, and the possible loss of Christine's personality and her voice, tears were not hard to find.



Shortly after the jam session was ended, the family members from out of town gave an extended goodbye to everyone, since their flights were early in the morning. Once they waved to the last rental car leaving their street, Christine's sisters announced they were turning in, too. They would be gone by the time most everyone else woke up. Their parents were not far behind.



Christine turned to Tom. "I guess y'all will be leaving tomorrow as well?"



He and his girlfriend both smiled. "We took the week off, so we'll leave on Thursday."



She hugged them both. "That's great news. But, I'm not sure how much company I can be. Tomorrow, Chris and I have an appointment with the bishop, and Wednesday we have to go downtown for a photo shoot with T-Mobile."



"That's okay. We'll take what we get. You're not going to be gone the whole day, anyway."



"Well, I don't know what Chris has planned for us."



"We'll figure it out. I'm going to turn in. Jill?"



"I'll stay up with C for a while. I'll be there in a bit."



Christine clung tightly to her brother. "Thanks Tom. For everything. I don't know how I'll ever repay you."



"It's okay, kiddo. By being alive when I got there, you've repaid me 100,000 times over."



She and Jill were in her room, listening to CD's while Christine checked her email. As she did so, she turned a thought over and over in her head until she said it out loud.



"So, Mom and Dad let you stay with Tom, huh?"



"Yeah, with your sisters here, it was that or the couch."



Christine shut off the computer and sat next to Jill on her bed, resting her head against the older girl's shoulder. "So do you and Tom...uh play in there?"



Jill brought an arm around Christine's shoulders. "No, we'd never do that in this house."



Christine looked up at her.



"Okay, you got me. Yes, we've fooled around in there. I don't think your parents know."



"I'm pretty sure they know," Christine sighed. "I just wish they could be as accepting with Chris and I."



"I think they are. You want him here now, don't you?"



"Yeah, I do. But, I just don't know how to work this intimacy thing. We certainly can't pay for hotel rooms every night."



Jill reclined back on the bed, coaxing Christine to rest her head on her thighs. "You could do it here. Or in his room. Just be respectful and don't throw it in the parentals' faces by being loud and shit."



"We did it the first time here. I was almost too scared of being caught, but I really wanted it. Over there is out of the question. His mom would flip if she caught us. And here, well...Chris has spent the night, but was banished to the floor at first. We've built up enough trust to where we can sleep in the same bed, but only occasionally and when Pepper is nearby." The sound of her name made the dog's tags jingle at Christine's feet. Christine stroked her pet with her toes and Pepper laid back down. "I've broken that trust, but got away with it. I'm not sure I want to tempt it very much."



"Well, you'll be out of here in a couple of months anyway. Then, you can ravage him all you want. Until that point, there's always back seats and beaches."



"Dorm room sex...how romantic," Christine said sarcastically. "Besides, neither of us have cars right now. I never got one, and his dad is using his, since the Firebird got trashed in that pond."



Jill felt bad. When they got together, Tom already had a car. Not that they made it their regular playground, but it allowed them to sneak away and at least find a secluded place. "Well, trust me. Both of ya'll's hormones will find a way. You can bet on that."



They chatted a bit longer about little things. Jill had come just in time. She happily became something Christine sorely wanted and needed...a best friend that she could talk to about Chris. * * *



Christine picked him up the next morning, and over some fast food breakfast, they speculated what was coming at the meeting. Of course it was meant to force either or both of them to make a decision. If not today, then within a few days. Neither had an answer, so the subject was short-lived and moved onto recaps of what they did with their families yesterday.



The diocesan office was a three story glass and brick building shoehorned onto a corner lot downtown. A receptionist was stationed in the foyer between the entrance doors and a set of stiff inner doors secured with a keypad lock. Chris wondered if the security measure was due to the undesirable residential area behind the building or was a precaution because of the Church's stance on controversial subjects. The receptionist promptly buzzed them in, giving instructions on where to find the bishop's office.



They had expected to wait for him to get freed up, but his personal receptionist greeted them warmly and led them right in. His office was well appointed with a rich desk and chairs, overlooking the southwest area of downtown with a glimpse of the bay. He was already standing with a smile and he covered the distance around his desk quickly to greet them. After the obligatory handshakes, they were urged to take a seat before the expansive desk.



"So, you're probably wondering why I brought you two down here?" he asked while settling into his chair opposite the desk from them.



"Yes, Your Excellency," replied Chris.



He smiled. "Ah! Not very often do I hear a formal address from youths such as yourself. Please, you may be more comfortable calling me Bishop from here on out. So, let's get on with it, shall we?"



"Certainly, Bishop. I am assuming you were wanting an answer from me."



"Yes. And that answer is?"



"I don't know yet."



"A very good answer, and it's the reason I asked you here today. Christine, I asked for your presence, because I am well aware that whatever is discussed today will affect your life immensely as well. Just as her decisions will affect you, Chris."



"So, since we are in this loop, where do we begin?" braved Christine.



The bishop played with a pen as he seemed to consider this. "I've spoken with a few people to get a sense of where you two were leaning, and every one has said you both have stopped talking about picking a college since before the State Track Finals. Congratulations on the win Chris, by the way. Anyway, I thought that maybe you needed a kick start."



"Thank you," Chris answered simply.



"So, let's start by asking which of the colleges you've been accepted by do you wish most to attend? Christine?"



She didn't even think about it. "Auburn. But I don't want to...."



The bishop cut her off by putting up his hand. "Chris?"



"I don't know. Florida State, I guess."



"You didn't apply to Auburn?"



"No, Bishop. Auburn didn't occur to me last year. When I was awarded a Bright Futures scholarship, I kept my choices to in-state schools. I was happy with my choices even after a couple other scholarships were sent my way. That is until..."



"Until you got involved with Christine?"



"Yes. I mean, I've always been involved with her. Just, hmm, didn't allow myself to be emotionally involved until recently."



"So what changed?"



"I told him that I loved him."



Chris's eyes flicked over to see Christine blush crimson.



"Okay," the bishop smiled. "Let's put that on a shelf for a second. So, then, there's my offer."



"Yes, Bishop," Chris answered.



"Allow me to make my sales pitch here." The bishop outlined the job description, duties, and expectations of the position. "As you can see, there is a lot involved. Are you game?"



"I believe so. May I ask...it would seem that you would want an experienced person for this job. Why me?" asked Chris.



He sat back against his chair. "You were well-known far before the terrible night. Through the years, you've served Mass for me, you've sang at my Masses, played organ at still others. So, personal observation is one thing. But, if I ask for star names from my parishes, they may change from year to year, but from yours, Chris and Christine came up every time. Same with Catholic High. Sister Collins mentioned you both numerous times through the four years you've been there.



"Then we had the youth coordinator quit and the director retired. I've been screening and interviewing for close to a year now. Your name came up again, this time as a result of some very successful retreats this last fall. You turned it down, so I kept looking. No one has quite fit what I want. Then, after your rescue and return to the school, I heard about the response the students gave you.



"You have leadership...it comes easy to you. So easy, perhaps, that you probably don't see how hard some people have to work at it to achieve half the results you do. Your peers automatically trust you and confide in you. You inspire them, and THAT is what I want."



Chris was a bit shell-shocked by the heaps of praise that he saw as unnecessary. It took a few moments for him to find some words. "But, I wouldn't know what to do."



"I think you're wrong there. I would bet that you already have some ideas floating around up there."



"I'll probably just mess a bunch of stuff up."



"That's my problem to worry about. I know I'm recruiting young here. I know there will be mistakes. I'm willing to deal with them."



Chris looked over at Christine to see what she thought. The bishop preempted any response by standing up.



"Let's take a walk, shall we?"



Bewildered, the two stood and followed the bishop out. They walked down a flight of stairs and a couple of hallways before he unlocked a door and let them into a darkened waiting room. He flipped on the lights.



"Your receptionist would be stationed there," he said while gesturing at a small desk. He unlocked another door and urged them inside. "This would be your office."



The windows looked out to old oak trees and the cluttered and dingy neighborhood beyond the office's parking lot. But, at least it had windows. The desk was newer and butted up against the left wall, leaving a narrow walkway between it and stocked bookshelves lining the opposite wall. There was a second-hand loveseat squeezed between the end of the shelves and the wall that held the door, as well as a leatherette office chair behind the desk and two smaller chairs in front. Chris thought of the office as small, while Christine termed it as cozy in her head.



"$38,000 annually is the salary, which moves to $45,000 at one year," the bishop said, breaking into their thoughts.



"Bishop, this is all overwhelming. But, I still want to go to college."



"Of course. And, we'd want you to. You would not have a set schedule here, so you could work around your classes as necessary. If attending one of the local schools tampers with your scholarship, the diocese will grant you a replacement. The only stipulation to that would be a five year commitment from you to stay here. That time would run concurrently. Four while you're in school, plus one more year after." He could see that Chris was seriously considering it, but something was holding him back. "Christine, what do you think?"



"It's a whopper of an opportunity. Chris, how many people get an office, a salary, and a flexible schedule right out of high school?"



"None."



"Exactly. I think you should take it."



"What would you do? Go to UWF? You called that school U Will Fail!"



Christine literally bit her lip. She was torn and couldn't find an answer.



The bishop settled onto the worn loveseat. "Let me ask you this, Christine. What would you do if this offer wasn't on the table for him?"



"Go to Auburn," the answer was without thought.



"And what would you have hoped Chris would do then?"



She was appalled at herself, as she hadn't thought that through. "I don't know. I guess since he's undecided, maybe apply to Auburn for enrollment next spring. Perhaps he could take some liberal arts at the community college nearby until then...I just...I don't know. We've never talked about it."



"So, you'd want Chris with you."



"Of course!"



"Do you love each other?"



"Yes," they replied in unison.



"Do you trust each other?"



Chris answered this one. "With my life every time she drives."



Christine lightly flung the pencil she was fidgeting with at him. "Shut up!" the exclamation was more playful than anything else. "Yes, we trust each other, Bishop."



He was smiling. This was exactly what he wanted for a new direction regarding the youth program. Fresh air, young people not afraid to show who they are in front of authority. At the same time, they were reverent at the appropriate moments. The program had gotten stale, teenagers and children would get stiff at the first sign of clergy, and it would suck the fun right out of any gatherings, making attendance thin and forced.

<hr pg="3" />"Well, then, might I suggest that you two NOT compromise? Christine, do what you want most to do. Chris, you do the same."



They looked at him as if he just asked them to build a rocket and fly it to the moon tomorrow. Chris picked up her hand and held it in a show of partnership.



Christine was the first to speak. "I don't know if I can do that. He is my strength. I can't seem to breathe without knowing he's nearby."



"And she's my balance. One look from her or the sound of her voice calms me down whenever I'm upset or stressed."



"So, you love each other?"



"Yes!" Christine's desperation to convince the bishop showed in her voice. "In every way someone could take that word."



"Then you two are involved sexually."



Damn, he didn't miss her hidden admission.



"Yes," she answered, her voice a little lower. She didn't see any point in lying to him. "Please treat that information as a confession."



His expression soured. "Very well, I'll hold that in confidence. But, I'm disappointed to hear that. Maybe I made a mistake in judgment."



"Mistake? So, this interview is over?" Chris was on the defensive.



"Yes it is. I can not have a person in a role model position that doesn't follow or believe in the teachings of the Church."



Chris pondered this turn of events, but noticed the bishop had not moved from the couch. Maybe there was an opening. "Sounds kinda like sexual discrimination, doesn't it Christine?"



She nodded.



"Discrimination? Against someone not willing to fulfill a key part of their job description?"



"How is a personal thing like being involved with someone you love not willing to follow what a job asks for?"



"Catholic rule is abstinence until marriage," the bishop said factually.



"But federal law prohibits discrimination against sexual preference. I prefer to have a beautiful and healthy sexual relationship with someone I love and cherish dearly, and because of that you are going to withdraw your offer? I had believed that what the Catholic Church has taught me all these years is true. Our God is a loving and forgiving God. Not a being that will strike you down for doing something he intended to be wonderful."



Christine felt the change in Chris. She had seen it before when he did mock debates for school. Normally, he was a quiet person who mostly listened passively. But, if challenged, he would come alive and focused, using all the information he absorbed when everyone assumed he was ignoring them. His rebuttals were very potent when he unleashed them.



Chris continued, "I believe the teachings of abstinence were intended to reduce and prohibit reckless behavior and unwanted pregnancies. It was to keep the act of sex sacred. And, I believe I have not broken that intent by remaining faithful to the woman I love. As for my job duty, if approached on this subject, I will counsel the person that waiting is always the best idea."



The bishop had wondered if, when pressed, Chris would fold his cards and leave. But, he did not, and he made some valid arguments. So, he smiled and said, "Do you love each other enough to get married?"



"Maybe eventually," Christine answered this time. "We haven't even come close to discussing it yet."



"So, this isn't some fling between you two." They shook their heads. "Very well. If you can stick with the teachings as you laid out on this subject, then I stand by my suggestion. Think of it as an extended retreat exercise. The more you have to work for it, the more you'll appreciate each other's company. I tell you what. If you accept my offer today, Chris, I'll throw in a monthly fuel allowance so you can drive up and see Christine whenever you can. I'll leave you two alone for a few minutes to talk things over." He got up and left, closing the door behind him.



Chris blew out the breath he seemed to be holding for the last twenty minutes or so. "Wow. Thanks a lot for THAT scene!"



Christine was looking at the floor. "I'm sorry, okay? It just kind of came out."



Chris shook his head. "Well, I was able to turn him around...I'm not all that mad." He stared at the wall in disbelief. "Can you pinch me to make sure I'm not dreaming this offer?"



"I know, right?" Christine responded. "You really want this. I can tell by your eyes."



"Yeah, but what do you want? I've got an offer that would let me go to a community college like you say."



"I want you to be happy."



"C! What do you WANT?!"



"I've always wanted to go to Auburn. But, I would change that on a dime to be with you."



"Well, then maybe the bishop's idea is what we really need to do."



"That's four years of being apart, Chris."



"It's not so long. Besides, you'll be home for holidays and summers. If Bishop follows through, I'll be able to drive up on most weekends. Unless you're worried about me finding someone else..." he challenged.



"Please...if you do this, you'll be so busy you won't have a chance to even look at a girl. Even if you do, you won't have time enough for her to get her attention. Beyond this reasoning, I trust you implicitly, just as you trust me."



"How do you know I trust you?"



"Because you didn't bring it up when you were talking about me."



"Fine, how do you know you won't meet some gorgeous college stud?"



She punched his shoulder while laughing lightly. "Would you stop throwing that in my face?" She turned a bit more serious now. "You know, I only said that then to protect myself from heartbreak. I could and did handle getting 'dumped' just before Prom from another. If you had done that to me, I don't think I could live."



"You DID do that to me in a way," his voice was solemn. "You know, when you said that."



"I'm sorry, okay? But it worked out in the end, didn't it? We're together now."



"So, this is it, right? We're really doing this?"



"Lets. There might be challenges along the way. I'd be stupid to think otherwise. But if...no, WHEN we make it through this separation, it will be that much sweeter, don't you think?"



"I'm glad you're so positive. I know it's gonna hurt me like hell, being away from you so much."



She gave him a tight squeeze. "Then, I guess it's good we're doing that photo shoot on Wednesday. We wouldn't be able to afford the phone bill otherwise."



"True enough," he chuckled.



Just then, the bishop returned and he could sense the change in them. A decision had been made, and they looked like they had just dropped 100 pounds off their backs. "So! Is there good news for me?"



It really wasn't a fair fight, the bishop's career experience in dealing with people being pitted against two 18 year olds. He pretty much knew what the result would be, even before the two stepped foot in the office. 



But Chris wasn't planning to make this THAT easy. He was going to take as much as he could with him, so he took over. He was also emboldened by the fact that his premarital relationship with Christine wasn't a deal breaker. If he was wanted this bad, he might be able to negotiate a bit. "Maybe, but I have a few questions first."



"Sure. Go ahead."



"Who would my secretary be?"



"Oh, I'll find someone in our pool for you. Unless, you already have someone in mind?"



"Actually I do. IF I take this, could my first one be Christine?"



The bishop raised his eyebrows. "She's staying in town, then?"



"No, but she knows me best and I think she would be a huge help in getting me organized and started."



"Done."



"What's that wage?"



"$8.30 an hour."



"But she's heading to college and would only be here a short while. Since the first part would be the hardest in getting me up to speed, don't you think her term would deserve something closer to $13 an hour?"



"Alright, your receptionist can have $12 an hour. What else?"



"I'd like my starting salary to be $48,000."



The bishop flinched at that, but smiled. "My, but you ARE smart...and ruthless! Knowing I'm over a barrel in finding someone, and taking advantage of it. 48 is out of the question, so I'll start you at 45, with an increase to 49 on your second year. But, half of that seven thousand extra is coming out of your department's budget. We'll call the other half your fuel allowance."



"I have a budget?"



"Yes, your office has an annual budget of $47,000...well, now it would be 43,500. But keep in mind that most of that has been spent in the past on trips to DC for the Right to Life March, and next year the Pope is visiting New York for World Youth Day. I'm sure a lot of people would want to go to that. Plus, all the diocese youth retreat subsidies come out of your budget. So, think that your budget is a more realistic $500 to play with. Do we have a deal?"



"Yes, we do, I guess. You really are sure you want me?"



"You just successfully negotiated a $7000 increase in pay. I'd say you're doing well so far. When can you start?"



"How about week after next?"



"Very good! See Judy next door to this one when you come in. We'll have these keys ready for you then."



"Thank you, Bishop! I look forward to it."



"As will I." They shook hands and the bishop was locking the door when he turned and called after them. "One more thing."



They returned to face him.



"Keep the physical part between you to yourselves. I would hope you are mature enough to keep a polite example toward public eyes, if you catch my drift."



"So, no hanky panky in that office?" Chris's smile betrayed his little joke.



The respected man soured his look. "Exactly. Not the kind of reputation you'd want...getting fired from a church because you couldn't control yourselves..."



"Don't worry, Your Excellency. We wouldn't even consider it," Christine said while pulling at Chris's arm to get his crutches moving.



The bishop heard her at the far end of the hall berating Chris, saying she couldn't believe he said that. He turned to head to his office. "Hanky panky," he chuckled to himself. Chapter 26



Christine was still shaking her head when they got to the car. "I can NOT believe you said that!" she repeated one more time.



"Well, you're the one who told him we're having sex," Chris grumped as he plopped down in the passenger seat.



She turned the key in the ignition, but instead of putting the car in reverse, she rapidly drummed her hands on the wheel. "Oh my God! You're my BOSS!" she exclaimed excitedly. "Whoa, that sounds so weird."



"Yeah, it does. Would you feel better if I said you were fired?"



"I would not," she said defiantly. "What would you like to do, Mr. Zehyr?"



"Let's celebrate! How about Olive Garden? My treat."



"That sounds great!" * * *



The families had gotten together at the Barron's and were waiting for the couple when they returned from their celebratory lunch. They were all elated at the news, and there was general relief that both had finally made a firm decision as to what to do with their lives at this point. Tuesday started off with a scramble of activity, Christine filling out and mailing her acceptance of admission to Auburn, as well as sending her intent to the scholarship board. Chris's mom, meanwhile, drove him to the local community college early that morning so he could fill out an application and turn it in.



The wait there seemed infinite and the hoops to jump through were challenging, but after talking with thirteen people, and finally the dean of admissions, he left with a letter of acceptance. The next stop was the diocese office to make good on Bishop's offer of the scholarship. He could have used his Bright Futures one, but he was advised by the dean that it would be prudent to save it for the higher fees of a university.



Once everything was taken care of, the families got together for the rest of the day. They toured the museum on the local base, played a couple of rounds of mini golf, and followed that up with a home-cooked meal at the Barron's. What happened after dinner is what made Christine nervous about today. They all decided to sit in the den to hang out and watch TV. At first, it was a welcomed idea -- Christine was settled on a couch, curled up against Chris while absently listening to conversations around her in between watching the show. It seemed like forever since she had seen a TV powered on. Then, just before the news, THAT commercial came on. All the horrible images of the wreckage they were trapped in flashed by in rapid sequence with a few new clips from their graduation. The suspenseful string of clips and increasing pitch of music ended now with Christine at the podium saying, "May God bless you and keep you safe," which was followed by bold white-on-black letters proclaiming "Their story. Their words." and next week's date.



Chris had felt her shiver against him. He asked if she was all right, and she responded that she was, just that it was weird to see a commercial about themselves. But her temperature seemed to drop when the news anchors opened by commenting on how powerful the national commercial was. They used it to springboard into their top story. A large group of youths from their area were washing cars to fund an effort to make the trip to LA to see the pair live while that episode was being taped. The on-scene reporter interviewed a few of the hard-working teens and they echoed pretty much the same message...that they wanted to show support from the local community for Chris and Christine. The segment ended with news that similar groups from around the country were planning similar trips, hoping to at least get a glimpse of their real-life heroes. It was clear that there would be a long line at the studio come next week.



"Well, I don't know about all that," Chris commented after taking a swig of his soda.



"What the hell are they doing?" Christine was exasperated. "We're not heroes. We're boring!"



Chris's mom answered what everyone else was thinking. "I wouldn't say boring. Besides, you two are real. You have lovable personalities, and you survived a terrible disaster. You've lost all your friends, yet you were still able to get in front of a large crowd, keep it together, and read the names of each one of them. I think that qualifies for hero status. I cannot imagine better role models out there than you two." * * *



The next morning came awfully early, since they had to be at the studio at 8. The two were still bleary-eyed when the receptionist greeted them. She was a bit over jubilant when she introduced herself and came around the counter to give them hugs. She noticed their confused and wary looks and felt a bit embarrassed at her behavior.



"Sorry, guys. It's just that I've been following your story, and it feels like I know you."



"So, T-Mobile has been researching us, too?!" Chris was starting to get agitated that people were starting to know them better than themselves.



"T-Mobile? Oh! No, I've just seen things about you on the news. They're just renting the place here. Let me get them for you."



It was not a long wait before a woman appeared in a business suit complete with high heels that popped a staccato on the floor. She introduced herself as the marketing director for the cell phone company and took them back into the studio. Names and titles were thrown around the room, and the couple was surprised at how many were involved in what they thought was going to be a simple portrait.



The director finally took a look at Christine and frowned. "I thought I specifically said no makeup. This is going to put us behind, cause we have to scrub that off now. I told you that we'd handle it, because darker colors are needed so you don't wash out under the flashes."



Christine furrowed her eyebrows in defense. "I don't have any on."



"Oh! Then aren't you lucky! I have to spend an hour each morning to make myself appear presentable. Charles? Get them some coffee, they need to wake up a bit more!" She looked at Christine with unveiled envy.



Christine and Chris were split up and pretty much ordered to sip their caffeine while a couple of makeup artists worked on their faces, making them non-reflective. That only took about 20 minutes, then it was off to the wardrobe racks. Once they appeared from the partitions in their selected garb, they were led to stand, sit, and lie down in a variety of poses in front of a lime green background. The photographer called out instructions on what he wanted for fine tuning the pose and facial expressions. Chris's ankle impairment made position changes a tad slow for the director's taste, and she would bark to step things up. He started making off-hand comments like "give the gimp a break" and most in the studio would laugh, but not her. She was on a deadline, and was determined to keep it.



After the third costume change, Christine had enough with the backhanded comments and impatience. "Look!" she shouted, making the room stop what they were doing. "How about I fold your ankle over under a building and make you hop on it for hours? No wonder it takes you an hour to put your face on. Your attitude makes you one ugly bitch! Free contracts and $500 be damned...we'll leave if you keep that shit going! We're getting tired of all this attention, anyway. If you want us to finish this, then I suggest you shut the FUCK up!"



The marketing director opened her mouth to shoot something back, but closed it quickly when she saw Christine edge her foot towards her dressing partition. There was no way she was going back to her supervisors empty handed after spending this much money getting here. There was also enormous pressure to get THIS photo shoot with THESE subjects. So, she slumped in a chair and sulked. Most of her crew just stood there with their mouths hanging open, while a few were snickering behind their hands. Never before had they seen someone stand up to their overbearing boss and have it work so well.



Things seemed to progress a bit faster without the biting whip-cracking. Go figure. The marketing director had reluctantly admitted to herself that Chris moved easier when he wasn't pressured and that their expressions came more naturally. The only words out of her mouth were clipped notations of the next pose or scene. Poses were done on beds, benches, car hoods, in door frames and faux windows. Their costumes were changed constantly, as were Christine's hair styles to capture as broad a range of looks as possible. It took nearly four hours total to squeeze in what was wanted.



Once Chris and Christine were back in their street clothes, the photographer showed them a quick slide show of the 1000  shots he took. Nothing seemed to make sense to them with the bright green background seeming to swallow them in every shot. Everyone else cooed, oohed, and ahh'd at a number of shots. An electronic tablet was placed before them and they were instructed to give their signatures. They said goodbye at last, and the director walked them out to the car. On the sidewalk, she apologized to Chris for pushing him, explaining that she was worried about missing the window they had been given.



Lunch at Chris's was the next order of business for the day. Christine's family was already there, chatting happily in the den. He had mail waiting for him, and his mom urged him to open the Priority Mail envelope, but he only had to see the Burbank return address to know what was inside. When the expectant looks turned disappointed, he said that it held the tickets for their trip next week to California. 



They settled next to each other on the brick hearth in the den and Christine's mom then produced a large, flat box that had come for Christine that morning. Christine didn't hesitate opening this one, even though she knew what it was. On top of a thick stack of matte-finish portraits was a note from the prom photographer.



"Dear Chris and Christine, I am deeply sorrowed over the loss of your classmates -- and overjoyed that you are still with us. It still shakes me up, knowing that I was there less than an hour before. Apologies for getting this to you so late, I sent it back to the lab twice to make sure it was perfect for you. You two make such a great couple on film and in person, I couldn't resist sending you a few extra shots. I hope you enjoy them. All my best wishes, Carrie."

<hr pg="4" />Christine made a mental note to write a thank you later. She thought she would be excited to see the finished and retouched portraits they picked out, but when she moved the note and revealed the whole image, a chill went through her. Chris noticed the shiver and embraced her shoulders with his arm. In the space of a heartbeat, that whole fated night flashed through her mind. Christine felt a tinge of guilt then that she was alive and THEY weren't.



The silence in the crowded room made her look at Chris. In mirrored movements, they each reached up and wiped away the sparkling tear from the other's cheek. Christine sniffed, shook her head from the grief and started passing out sets of their portrait. When she handed her mother her set, she told Christine that a tube had also come. Christine told the mothers that those two posters were meant for them. Chris watched over her shoulder as she flipped through the extra shots. Most were of a more playful nature and made them smile. Those were passed around and Chris asked what was in the cardboard. She commented that she guessed it was merely a backer to keep the photos flat in shipment. But then she noticed a sliver of white peeking out from between the stiff sheets. She moved the top piece and gasped. Staring back at her was an 8X10 photo that had their classmates' portraits morphed into one large group photograph.



Physical pain tore through the edges of her chest, the points of which splintered toward each other to collide into her heart. She covered her mouth with her free hand, dropped the photo into Chris's lap and dashed for his downstairs room. On her way out, she whimpered "I'm sorry" to the families in the room. Jill started to get up from her seat that was wedged between Chris's mom and Tom on the sofa, but Chris stopped her with a wave of his hand. He put the group photo down on the hearth next to him and hurriedly hobbled after his girlfriend.



When he appeared in the doorway, Christine wordlessly raised her arms toward him, like a child that wanted to be picked up. He embraced her as he sat on the bed and she clung to him as she unabashedly fell to pieces in his arms. As she willingly sobbed helplessly against his chest, she was grateful that he did nothing to console her. She needed this exact thing to happen. How did he know that? How did he know that her emotional being was cracked all over and she just simply needed it to shatter for once? Sure, Christine shed more than a few tears when she thought of her friends that were gone now, but with everything going on and how public it all was, she never got a chance to fully grieve. After a few minutes, Chris let her down on the bed, and quietly left the room to give her some time to experience being in a million pieces. In her eyes, it was the perfect thing to do.



Christine found the families sitting together around the breakfast table. She had cried herself to sleep on his bed and a couple of hours had passed. The two moms were serving dinner, and seeing only two chairs available, she settled onto Chris's lap. She had assumed the two vacancies were intended for the cooking mothers. Christine attempted to make an apology for dashing out of the room like that, but it was waved off by everybody. 



No one commented on the unusual seating. They were interested to see how long the spectacle would last when Chris would have to try to eat around her. But, surprising to them, he managed to do so without any extra effort. He was so used to her being near him, his body seemed to automatically adapt to her presence. Occasionally she would lean forward and nibble off the fork that was intended for his mouth. It soon became almost normal to the rest of them that they shared his place at the table, and the snickering disappeared.



Much later that night before bed, Christine spent some long minutes with Tom and Jill, saying goodbye. They were leaving early in the morning, so that Jill would have a chance to rest before going in to work that night. It was a happy farewell. Christine was happy they came, and they were happy for her survival and success at school. * * *



Christine was hoping for a normalcy break during the next few days, but with Chris's injury, the "normal" summer of going out and hitting the water parks or beach during the day and a nightclub or two at night was out of the question. So, they made do by spending time together, alternating which house they hung out at. That Saturday, Christine brought Pepper and Lady with her to Chris's house. When his mom refused to let the dogs inside, Chris spent the afternoon with her laying on a blanket in the backyard. They talked and just enjoyed each others company while occasionally throwing a tennis ball to keep the dogs entertained, although Lady and Pepper had plenty of fun exploring the new place.



"So, one more week of crutches," she said while referring to his followup appointment the day before.



"Yeah, not soon enough. Getting through the metal detectors should be fun," he replied sarcastically.



"You could just hand the crutches to the guard and limp through."



"I still have eight screws in four of my ribs," he reminded her. "But, that's not what I'm worried about. It'll take forever to move from gate to gate in Atlanta."



She laid back on the blanket. "We'll figure it out. Besides, I was thinking of another reason things would be good once your ankle healed." Her eyes twinkled.



"Oh yeah? What's that?"



"You could be on top for once."



"Well, until then, I'll just have to settle for being under you," he replied with a gentle kiss. She smelled delicious wearing her regular light sweet perfume and her lips tasted like candy. "Like tomorrow..."



She looked at him puzzled. "Tomorrow?"



"You'll have the house to yourself, right? Parents...conference...out of town?"



"Oh, right! That could be a real good day when I get back from the airport..." She actually squirmed at the thought.



He was already dressed when she showed up at nine the next morning, and they left his house under the ploy of prowling the mall. Nothing was said during the short ride to her house, both of their hearts pumping madly in anticipation. If his hands were free, she would have led him into her house with her hand attached to his, but as it were she opened the kitchen door for him, then raced past for the living room. He followed the trail she left, first her shoes then her t-shirt and her shorts were laying at her feet.



"Here?" he asked.



"Oh God, yes!" she exhaled rapidly as she knelt before him to undo his jeans. "I'm all alone in this house, remember?"



"Well, not COMPLETELY alone," he croaked as she traced his bulging underwear with her nails.



She pushed him gently back into the couch following his fall with a straddle of his thighs. Christine kissed him hard as she started working her panties against him. She pulled her pretty covering to the side and positioned herself when he suddenly grabbed her wrist.



"Wait, shouldn't we get something first?"



Her answer began by sinking down on him. "I started my pills almost a month ago. It should be safe," she sighed as she reveled in the new feeling of him naked inside her. * * *



During their breaks in between romps throughout the house, Christine would do the laundry that she needed for the trip as well as packing other things that were ready to go. Chris helped by choosing what he'd like to see her in. She had hurriedly thrown some underwear into one of her bags, but Chris didn't let that pass like she had hoped. He reached in and started holding up her delicate bottoms, inspecting each one.



"Having fun?" she accused sarcastically, trying to hide her slight embarrassment.



Chris had become so comfortable around her, he hadn't noticed that what he was doing could be seen as naughty. He fumbled with the white satin pair he was holding and tried to put it back hurriedly.



"Well?" she insisted when he didn't answer verbally.



"Sorry, I've always been fascinated with your panties."



"Always?! How often have you looked at them? Do you go through my drawer when I'm out of the room?"



"Yeah, I even sniff them from your hamper," he joked, trying to deflect the situation.



"Ugh." Her stomach turned slightly, but if that was his perversion, she decided she could deal with it, although the mental picture was not pretty for her. "Well, if that's what you want..." She turned her back to sort through her makeup.



"No, wait...I don't REALLY do that!"



"Uh huh...it's okay if you do, just don't try to make me watch you."



"I'm serious, C," he pleaded. "I was joking about that. But, seeing them in your bag or when you've laid them out on your bed to get ready, they're appealing to me. So delicate, pretty, and feminine...just like you. When they're off, and I see them, they remind me of what you look like in them. When they're on and you let me see them...just...wow."



She turned back to him. "So, you don't go through my hamper?"



"I never have even lifted the cover."



"So, that's not your kink?"



"No."



She was almost disappointed. She had steeled herself just now for this mild fetish, and could have dealt with it, but now she wondered if there was something else darker he would want when he got bored with regular sex. "What is, then?"



"What's yours?"



"You," Christine answered without thinking.



"Thanks. But what's your fantasy if you want to get adventurous?"



She hadn't thought about that...ever. It was always WHO to do it with, and never WHAT to do. She shook her head. "You never answered my question."



At first he was reluctant to reveal the secret, but she convinced him that whatever it was, she wouldn't hold it against him even if she chose not to participate in it. So, he sheepishly told her his most embarrassing fantasy in a whisper, hoping if she rejected that one, his other two wouldn't seem as bad.



"Oh!" she gasped and his head fell so that his chin touched the top of his chest brace. She considered it for a moment then said, "We could do that."



He picked his head up. "Really?"



She answered by closing her door, even though no one except Pepper was inside the home.



* * *



Christine thought she would be used to this, wheeling bags into the airport at this hour, but all the activity yesterday made this morning come so much earlier than she wanted. She didn't begrudge Chris for not being able to carry his own bag, but it sure would have made things a bit easier. After check-in and the invasive bag search, they went upstairs and endured the security checkpoint. Chris handed the guard his medical letter that informed whoever it needed to that there were eight small screws embedded into his ribs. The wand was passed around him, it went off only at the noted area and they were allowed through.



They were early and the airport was mostly deserted still. The gift shop still hadn't opened. They took a couple of seats at their gate and waited. Several minutes later, families strolled past toward another flight further down. Chris noticed with amusement that there were two distinct types of people, judging by their walk. Those who were on their way to vacations had kids who bounced and skipped around their parents. The ones returning home from a vacation were dutifully marching toward their flight back, heads hung low in weariness. A few teenaged passersby seemed to wake from their early morning spaciness to do double-takes toward the pair. One girl, obviously an early-riser by nature, pranced up to them and gushed incessantly about how cool it would be to go on a TV show, how great it was that they were alive, and that she'd never met a famous person before. She was dragged away by her dad without pausing once for a response from them.



Their own waiting area was starting to get populated as well, now. Mostly middle-management types were either sitting or pacing about, but all had smartphones attached to the sides of their heads. Chris had heard from some of his deceased friends about these regional and area vice-presidents that ruled their stores. Most would demand answers for poor performance, but when questioned for ideas on how to run something better, their answer would always be "well, good luck to you." A few of the snobs had turned around in their pacing and paused in their impatient steps when they saw Chris and Christine.



Christine heard a couple talking to each other saying, "it has to be them. He's got crutches, see?" She picked up his hand from his lap and held it, smiling sweetly at him.



"Nervous?" he asked.



"Of course! Have YOU ever been on TV before?"



He chuckled. "I was talking about the flight. You've never been, right?"



She shook her head no. "Tens of thousands of people do it every day, right? I can't wait to fly."



Once situated in the plane and his crutches stored in the garment locker up front, Christine started getting fully awake and her body displayed her excitement. Her head flicked in all directions as she seemed to try to take in the whole experience all at once. Chris had his safety belt on in a flash and she missed how that worked. She knew she could figure it out, but to add some more fun, she coyly asked him to show her. He did what she hoped in that he reached over to do it for her. A thrill went through her when his hand brushed against her hip as he retrieved the strap farthest from him. She leaned forward in the pretense of watching, making sure her chest contacted his arm. When he smiled as he fastened the belt, she knew he didn't miss it.



A few dings sounded in the cabin as the last few straggling passengers filed past and the lights dimmed briefly as the pilot spun up the engines. Christine listened attentively to the flight attendant as she made her safety announcements while the plane taxied to the runway. When the announcements were over, she confronted Chris about his inattentiveness.



He explained that as a child, he would fly to see his natural father.



"Okay, but certainly not in this plane. Where are the emergency exits?" she quizzed him.



"One on each side over the wing two rows back, one in the back on the tail, and the one we came through," he answered simply.



"How did you...I know you weren't listening..." she grumped that she didn't catch him off-guard like she thought she could.



"When we came on-board I made note of where they were. Be Prepared, remember?" 



At the end of the taxi ramp, the pilot announced that they were already clear for take-off and wished the passengers an enjoyable flight. The plane made its u-turn and didn't even stop before the engines spooled up to begin the journey. The acceleration pushed Christine back in the seat and she watched buildings race by faster and faster as the ground tilted backward and fell away. She didn't know how often she would get to fly in the future, but she was hooked.



Chapter 27



As they ascended, Chris pulled out a pack of gum and offered a stick to Christine. She was confused but took a piece and Chris told her it was to help with the ear popping. She didn't know what he meant and then got a sickening feeling when she felt it. The last time that happened, a building came down on them seconds later.



He noticed the look on her face. "Don't worry," he said over the engine noise. "It's normal for flying. Yawing also helps."



She opened her mouth wide, and sure enough, there was a slight pfft and she could hear mostly normal again. "Okay, so how do you do that?"



"Well, you just open your mouth really wide," he began since he wasn't looking at her when she yawned. "Sometimes I'll pinch my nose and blow against it."



Christine rolled her eyes. "My ears are fine now." She yawned again to get another pop out. "I meant, that be prepared stuff. You always seem to know exactly where to go, the second you need to. How do you do that?"



"Oh!" He said that it really was simple. Every time he goes into an unfamiliar place, he looks where all the exits are, what's around that he might have to use later, like the bathroom, refreshments, cashier stand. He didn't know why, it was just habit for him.



"And you do this every time?"



"Sure. Never know when you might need to get ahead of someone, or when you might need to find cover."



She shivered at that. "So you knew where that lunchroom was the whole time? How?"



He shook his head. "That was the first door I was somewhat sure I could get open. At that point, I was hoping for a desk, or a sturdy cabinet to get under. But, even if it were just chairs, I would have tried getting under those. I don't think it would have worked, though."



"Tell me more. Soon you're not going to be with me very much."



And so he did. His descriptions opened up a whole new way of thinking for her. Like always being aware of what's around, thinking about what to do if someone jumped out from behind the next trash can, or where to go if a sudden storm came up. He stressed to her that she shouldn't obsess and try to memorize her immediate area, but rather have a general familiar feeling for it, so if something went wrong, she at least had a starting point. He finished up the topic by telling her his feelings of how the importance of following the law diminished as threat to life increased. "I think it would be better to trespass and hop a gate to stand under a deserted carport during a hailstorm, than to continue driving with ice baseballs flying through your windshield, for instance," he said.



She asked questions along this line until the chimes in the cabin announced their descent into Atlanta. It had been so interesting getting a peek into the thought process he must have held every minute he was awake that she hadn't noticed how much time had passed. Christine pondered this while watching the spider webs of subdivisions creep closer to the window. Aside from another episode of ear popping, landing was another thrill for her. She watched the cotton candy clouds soar and dive as the pilot followed the approach turns from the control tower. Suddenly, the clouds were above them and seconds later, scenery rushed past at nearly eye-level as they pitched up before the jolt of touching down. The engines revved up and her body pulled against the safety belt for a good while, much harder at the end when the wheel brakes were engaged. The whole ordeal was very exciting for her, and it took a moment to catch her breath after the plane turned toward the gates.



"So, do you really think that way 24/7?" she asked as they felt the concrete strips pass beneath them. Talking was much easier now that the engines were throttled back.



Chris shrugged. "I guess. It's just second-nature to me. You know, 'plan for the worst, hope for the best' kind of deal."



She hugged his arm, feeling safer with him more now than ever before.



Christine was somewhat taken off guard when everyone jumped up even before the plane had stopped. A line formed down the narrow aisle, waiting for the jetway to rest against the door of the plane. Chris unbuckled, but stayed put in his seat. They had 40 minutes until their next flight, so there was no hurry, at least in his eyes. He had a cheat card and was going to play it to the hilt.



The flight attendant was quick to give him his crutches as soon as the aisle cleared. She asked for his tickets to give instructions to his next gate. Her eyes got wide and she said that that gate was three concourses over. She raced to the front of the plane while Chris stiffly got to his feet. As he made his way slowly toward the exit, Christine became alarmed at his pace and even asked if he was okay. He turned and winked at her, asking her to trust him. There was a wheelchair waiting for him in the jetway, a product from the attendant's hurry, no doubt. He settled into it, and a gate attendant wisked him into the concourse, with Christine nearly running behind.



An electric cart with a bench on each side was just stopping in front of the gate desk when they came through the door. The attendant told the driver where they were going and he nodded. As soon as Chris was transferred to the cart and Christine was next to him, they raced off, the cart repeating a high-pitched beep to alert the foot traffic ahead of it to move to the side. The driver stopped in front of an elevator and told them a bus would be waiting downstairs on the next level down. Chris thanked him and they got in the elevator.

<hr pg="5" />"You are such a faker," Christine accused him with a huge smile when they were alone.



He chuckled loudly. "Use what's around, right?"



The bus was waiting for them as promised, and they zipped under two concourses, slipping between the plane traffic. There was a reverse repeat at the other end of their trip and they found themselves in their waiting area with 20 minutes to spare. He gingerly stepped off the cart, thanked the driver and hobbled pitifully to the desk. Once they were checked in and had a seat in the waiting area, Christine gave a light slap to the back of his head.



"Ow! What was that for?" he protested.



"You are so bad, you faker!" She said this, but stuck her tongue out playfully.



He caught it between his lips, and they played with each others mouths briefly. "Hmm...how bad am I?"



"Sooo bad!" she said with a grin. "I love you."



"I love you, too."



She smiled and stood up. "I gotta pee," she said, stepping away toward the restrooms across the hallway.



He called after her, "I see. Love me then leave me, huh?!"



Christine spun and patted the air toward the ground in an attempt to hush him up.



It only provoked his playfulness. "Fine, be that way! Maybe I'll just leave you here by yourself!" he shouted after her across the busy expanse, grinning the whole time.



The slight commotion caught a few looks and Christine put her hand behind her back, shooting a bird at him as she disappeared behind the ladies' wall.



When she came out, her heart leaped into her throat. He wasn't there. She looked both ways down the concourse, but as far as she could see, there were no tell-tale crutches. Christine perched herself on the front of the seat she thought she had left him in. It was still warm, and she apprehensively glanced left and right, looking for her man. She was nearly panting in panic, trying to calm herself by thinking that maybe he went for a pit-stop, too. A few minutes went by before the gate attendant came up to her and said that he went to the gift shop a little ways down. She slumped back against the seat, willing her pulse to return to a more acceptable level.



It was nearly normal when a pair of shrieks jolted her heart. 



"Oh my God! She's HERE!"



She turned in the direction the excited chatter was coming from to see a group of several teenaged girls clamoring toward her. A couple of adults were trying and failing miserably to keep up.



The group skidded to a halt just before her with the trailing girls nearly running into the first. "Oh my God! You're Christine, right?" the obvious pack leader gushed. "Christine Barron?"



"Y-yes?" she answered hesitantly, rising to greet the overzealous group.



They each gave their names while giving her a hug. She forgot them instantly, still trying to comprehend what was going on. One of the adults came forward with an apologetic look. "Sorry. Girls! I'm sure the young lady would like her personal bubble back." The girls backed up, but only a step.



"It's okay," Christine graciously said. She searched her memory of cheer camps and the retreat she was on under Chris, but still came up blank. "Do I know any of you?"



The girls giggled and the clique leader spoke up again. "No, we're from Jacksonville. But you're, like, our hero!"



"Hero? Oh, I doubt that."



"Of course you are!" chimed a second girl. "You were on top of that sweet, beautiful hottie Chris for like, a day. Is he with you?" She glanced around hopefully.



"Yes I am," he answered from behind the group, a small bag swinging from one of the crutch handles.



Christine had to suppress a giggle when the small herd of teens gulped as one and turned to face him. "Ladies, this is my boyfriend, Chris," she announced proudly.



The girls were all smiles, but said nothing so he said hi and hopped around the edge of them to stand next to Christine. He handed her the bag saying, "for your first flight."



She reached in and brought out a tiny metal model of the plane they were just on. On top was a miniature teddy bear riding the plane. There was a chorus of "aww's" from the girls that seemed more robust than it should have been. She ignored it long enough to give him a kiss.



The aww's sprang up once again and Chris turned to see that a couple more groups of teens had joined the smaller one. "Forgive me, I need to take some weight off this ankle," he said as he sat down. One of the new boys caught his glance around the expanding crowd. "Hey, you look familiar."



The teen smiled. "Yeah, you kicked our asses at State last month," he replied.



Chris reached out to shake his hand. "Sorry about that." It was an understandably insincere comment.



There was another round of forgotten introductions. Chris and Christine ignored the special needs boarding announcement, listening to the groups jabber on about getting a chance to see their show. The announcement was repeated, and then the gate attendant came up to them with a wheelchair. "Excuse me, Mr. Zehyr? That's you."



He smiled and excused himself, wishing the teens a safe trip while he hopped in the chair. The excitement behind them increased as he was wheeled into the jetway. Christine figured this was going to be a different flight experience when she noticed that unlike her first flight, the tunnel walkway sloped UP and seemed to stretch further. First class had six seats across arranged in pairs, then there was the bulkhead followed by the first part of the economy cabin. Through the doorways ten or twelve rows back, Christine could glimpse an even longer stretch of seats. The flight attendant led them to the first row of paired window seats after first class on the right side of the plane.



"Holy crap!" she exclaimed to Chris. "This is BIG! I'm so glad we've got window seats."



"I'm glad it's on this side of the plane," he muttered.



She realized why he said that when the groups of teens waved wildly to them as they filed down the aisle on the opposite side. Christine turned to see where they were headed, and it turned out all their seats were past the galley. "I see what you mean. Well, with them back there, we won't get interrupted as much," she hoped out loud.



As she had figured, the flight was different to LAX. Everything was smoother in the wide-bodied jet, from taxiing through the air travel. They napped through about a third of the flight, talked while watching TV during the rest. Christine was aware of some curious glances, especially when she headed to the lavatory, but those people didn't approach her.



Chris started fishing through his hip pack during their descent, and Christine noticed it was growing more frantic. "What's wrong? I have your pills with me." That had to be what he was looking for, since the pressure changes made her own knee and chest ache a bit.



He shook his head, rifling through the sack again. "He told me the rental reservation was in the packet. I don't see it."



"Was it there this morning?"



"I don't know. I just put the whole envelope in here. Everything else is here."



She touched his hand. "Well, stop. We can just get a taxi."



He sighed, but he did stop fumbling through the bag. "And how much do you think that would be in LA? It would almost be cheaper to buy a used car."



Christine was silent through the rest of the landing. She had calmed him down, at least outwardly, and didn't want to rile him back up. She spoke again as the plane made its way toward the airport. "Well, we both have some money from the photo shoots. We can just rent a car ourselves and ask for reimbursement. Even if they say no, this isn't going to ruin our vacation, okay?" She checked her watch and it confirmed what her stomach was telling her: shortly after 6pm. But outside looked like late afternoon rather than mid evening.



Chris nodded, agreeing to roll with the punches on the rental. When he noticed Christine was slightly confused, he said, "Turn your watch back two hours." He pulled his cell phone out and flashed the screen at Christine. "See?"



She huffed at herself, frustrated that he was right again about something she shouldn't have missed.



The plane stopped and this time Chris didn't wait to stand up. There was no hurry, and Christine smiled at the counter-intuitive way Chris managed his time. Sit when in a hurry, jump up when they could take it easy. Whatever, it seemed to work. They made their way up the less crowded aisle and he used the seat backs like crutches. The flight attendant handed him the crutches and called them by name when she wished them a happy stay. Crossing over toward the exit, the rest of the flight crew was waiting for them with smiles. The captain wanted a picture with them and his crew, so a group pose was quickly arranged and a uniform hat was placed on Christine's head to complete the look. Cell phones from the crew were passed to alternating attendants so that everyone could get a shot. Christine made sure she got one as well.



They made their way through the jetway tube down into the terminal. Some of the teens from 8 hours earlier caught up to them and tried to chat excitedly about the trip. The pair just smiled and nodded, dismissing them with a good trip wish when they entered the large open gate area. Christine asked for directions to baggage claim and car rental desk from the gate attendant, and they headed off, following the stream of passengers. She looked longingly at the restaurants they passed, and even commented on the appetizing aromas to Chris. He just looked at her and said that they would eat in the city within the hour. A little ways down, Christine stopped dead in her tracks.



"I know you're hungry, babe. It's not much longer, I swear," Chris sighed.



"No, look!" Christine pointed at a vending machine on the wall. "And Mom says I'm too attached to my phone."



The machine was a crisp display prominently advertising its brand, "Sony" at the top. It was stocked with chargers, ear buds, and even PSP games.



She giggled as she unclipped her phone and took a picture of it. "She'll never believe this."



At last, they made it through the security checkpoint and Chris stopped to look at the sign that would point them to the correct baggage claim. Christine tapped his arm and pointed ahead. What he saw seemed like a scene out of the movies. A young man dressed in a coat and tie held up a white sign reading, "Zehyr/Barron." His eyes scanned the mass coming toward and around him.



He looked right at them and marched straight through the crowd. "Mr. and Mrs. Zehyr?" he asked.



"Close," said Chris. Pointing to himself he said, "Chris Zehyr." Pointing to her, "Christine Barron."



The young man shook their hands. "I'm Brad, an intern at the studios. They've instructed me to be your driver while you're here in LA. They said to look for crutches, but that wasn't necessary."



"Why not?" Chris asked while moving to the side to allow the foot traffic by.



"'Cause everyone knows who you are now. Seeing so many heads turn while they went around you made it easy. Come on, I'll take you to get your bags."



"Well, that explains the missing rental stuff," Christine said to her boyfriend.



Brad led them to the lot on the inside of Horseshoe Drive and stopped at a polished Town Car, loading their bags into the trunk. As they sank into the soft leather of the back seat, Christine was grateful for this perk. Hunger made her cranky, and if she had to cart the heavy bags after standing forever at a rental counter, she was sure she'd have gone off on Chris for some tiny thing.



"So, what's first?" asked Brad as he wound his way toward the freeway leaving the airport.



"Dinner!" Christine said. The answer coming out before he even finished asking.



Los Angeles was beautiful, especially at sunset. The golden hues touched even the shadows and romanced the city so that even the snarled traffic didn't get Christine down. She was happy to be in the back seat, being toted around with her arm laced around Chris's. Early dinner, at least it was early to everyone else, proved to be a good decision since they would have felt severely under-dressed later at the posh restaurant the studio had arranged for them. Shopping was next on their improvised itinerary and they used the gift cards that had been sent to Chris.



Christine was thinking that they might have to drive a U-Haul back to Florida, given the amounts on the cards, but that turned out to be a pipe dream as the inflated prices allowed only one or two nice purchases each. These stores were certainly no Target. She did get to pick out a few nice things at one of the clothing stores. The sales girl there at first turned up her nose when she saw their modest apparel, just like at the other stores, but then she recognized Chris's face and in turn Christine's. Her attitude changed and she helped Christine maximize the money on that card. She was helpful and friendly enough that Christine used some of her own money to round out two ensembles.



The last stop was Tiffany &amp; Co. It was nearly closing when they stepped in, and they could almost hear the sighs from the employees at the back of the store. The clerks stayed back, not seeing a reason nor incentive to approach what appeared to be a fruitless effort. This stop was all for Christine, and Chris let her lead him around the counters while she let herself be hypnotized by all the "sparkly." She stopped unconsciously at the engagement display. Actually, she had moved past two sections of it before pausing. As she stared at the rings, ranging from petite to gaudy, Chris thought for a moment he'd have to ask for a towel to wipe up her drool. Finally he nudged her ahead, telling her to aim for something more realistic.



The sales manager approached before she moved completely away from those rings. Now seeing them closer, he recognized them and shook his head at the sales staff who were too busy tabulating their commissions to bother. "Hey! Y'all messed up. No one wanted to help the Prom Miracles?"



The catty team looked up in surprise and started nearly shoving each other out of the way.



He stopped them with a raised hand. "Too late. Anything they buy, the commission goes straight to the store profit now." He looked at the couple. "Hello. I'm sorry they were trying to ignore you," he said loud enough to make it obvious it was more of a reprimand of the sales team than a greeting. "So! Engagement? We have some exceptional solitaires that would be just your style, Miss Christine."



"Uh, no. We aren't..." started Chris.



"Sure about what to get?" the manager continued. "With your complexion and hair, a platinum setting and band would make a striking match."



Christine was still memorized by the beautiful, crisp, and elegant display. She barely felt Chris steer her shoulders toward another counter. But, it did break the spell of her inwardly wondering "what if." She shook her head out of it and said, "I think platinum or silver earrings is what I'm really looking for."



The manager smiled. "Of course. No engagement yet? Pity."



He fished out some dainty earrings that she seemed interested in, lining up some others that might be to her liking while she inspected the current one. As she leaned over the counter, he eyed the ring that hung away from her neck. The manager reached out and rested it gently in his hand, slightly startling Christine who didn't expect the sudden move.



"Nice ring," he said while turning it over in his hand. Then referencing Chris, "It's yours, no doubt. Hmm. Quite worn on the underside. You know, we have an excellent jewelcrafter that we do business with locally. He could round out that flat side, polish it and take those dings out. We'd have it back to you tomorrow evening. My treat."



Christine snatched the ring and tucked it inside her shirt. "No thanks. One of the reasons I endure it thumping against me IS the worn out part."



"Very well," he said, clearly not understanding but letting it go nonetheless. "Those hoops would be very lovely on you. Maybe a bracelet to go along with them?"



By the time they checked out, the store's sales team had punched out and left twenty minutes previous. Christine had settled on the hoops and picked out a couple of slim bangles to match.



The manager walked them to the door to let them out. "So, we donated that gift card to be given to you. We would appreciate it greatly if you wore your purchases on the show tomorrow afternoon," he hinted.



"Thank you. That was the plan," she said cheerily.



"Then, thank YOU. Enjoy your stay here. I can't wait to see the show."



The time difference teamed up with the busy evening to wear on the couple's faces. Brad read it as soon as they appeared out of the storefront and he didn't even bother asking if they wanted to do anything else, taking them directly to their hotel. Check-in went smoothly, and the desk clerk turned away Chris's offer of his card for incidentals. The studio was covering everything up to a certain amount, but she said that they looked way too tired and young to be running up a bar tab or watch enough pay-per-view to exceed the amount limit. They were directed to the elevators and Brad followed with a cart loaded up with their travel and purchase bags.



Once everything was dropped off in their room on the 8th floor, Chris tipped their driver $50. It would have been at least four times that amount to hire cabs, anyway. Brad cheerfully accepted the tip, although he was just happy to be assigned to a "different" type of celebrity couple. Aside from the "dinner" command, they would ask if they could go here or there next, never flat-out ordering him. In the car, they engaged him in conversation, asking about LA life and his internship at the studios. The evening was a pleasure, and the tip, although small financially compared to others he'd received for chauffeuring around, was generous in its own right. He wished them goodnight and said he would return at 8 after their breakfast downstairs.



When he left, Christine groaned that 8 seemed awfully early. Chris laughed while plopping back on the bed, reminding her that it would feel like 10 to them. It was only 10:15 now, not midnight like their bodies were telling them. Exhausted, but out of mechanical habit, Christine stripped him down to his underwear, then shucked everything of hers but the panties before dropping belly first beside him on the bed.



"You better not be horny," she mumbled into the pillow. "Because you ain't getting any tonight. I physically can't."



He rolled onto his side and covered her naked shoulders with his arm. "I love you."



"You too...," she drifted off.



Christine awoke with a start, feeling like she overslept the next morning. The bed was cozy and warm, soft covers pulled over her. When did that happen? Then, she vaguely remembered thinking the same thing when she got up during the night to pee. It was still dim now and she glanced at the bedside clock reading it correctly that it was only 6. Chris was so sweet...he must have covered her when she fell asleep at first. She smiled and decided to repay him, so she removed her panties, straddled his stomach, and leaned down to kiss his chest.



She worked herself down to center herself over him, never breaking her tender pecks on his torso. Christine sighed when she felt his morning hardness, reached down and fished him out with her hand. Easily and slowly she slid down his length, rocking gently and enjoying the fleshy fire inside her. He still hadn't woken up, so she laid down on his chest under the covers, trying something new by using only her sheath muscles to milk him. If she were in a hurry, this would have been tiring, but she did so at her own pace, laying there content to listen to his heart and lungs work to keep him alive.



Gradually, her impalement started to move inside her and she knew he was on the edge of consciousness. She started moving her hips to his increasing rhythm and his eyes fluttered open. He grunted and she took the cue he was awake, sitting up and rocking on him.

<hr pg="6" />His hands stroked her thighs and he said, "This is one hell of a dream."



She giggled, causing a movement that made him shiver in pleasure. "Good morning," she said sweetly. "Thought I'd say thanks for covering me up when I passed out last night."



He groaned and thrust at her involuntarily. "Mmm, this isn't a thank you. This is heaven."



She tried her new trick and giggled again when his eyes went wide. "You like that?"



His response was unintelligible, but he added, "Please?"



She did it again and was rewarded with a firm thrust. She was small and he was large enough to bottom out at will, but when his tip would bump against her cervix like that, it sent sparks of pleasure throughout her body. Just like that, she went from 'good morning wakeup treat' to 'fuck it, I'm getting myself off.' She gave him a couple more squeezes while bearing down on him quickly and his eyes started glazing over.



"No, no...please hold off," she begged. "I wanna cum so bad right now."



He inhaled sharply through his nose. "I'll try, but you feel so damn good doing that."



She closed her eyes and reached beneath her. Christine was embarrassed to jill herself while having sex with him, but she really wanted her goal and quick. He'd eventually catch her masturbating at some point anyway, right? Between them, her fingers blurred as she rubbed her button, sending waves through her. She held her breath and bore down on him again, feeling her lubrication suddenly engulf his rod. The orgasm started in her lower tummy and convulsed around him. Her hand and everything else between them was hot, very wet, and slick. Was she peeing? She shook her head, and she decided she didn't care at this point. She panted twice, held her breath and frigged faster, slamming down on him. The orgasm rolled up through her body until it hit her lungs and caused the air to escape her intentional tension.



"Oh fuck me!" she grunted in a huff when the pleasure tide crashed over her mind.



He mistook it as a command and thrust his hips up hard, over and over, extending her guttural climax and sending it even higher. Her thighs and knees squeezed hard against his hips and the spasms forced her to double over in quick succession. The flooding in her canal increased again, but she felt it in pulses and knew it was him. She didn't even hear his grunts of joy, the blood in her head made her ears ring.



Finally the spasms subsided and she collapsed on top of him. "Holy shit!" she exclaimed into his neck. Giggling in time with the pleasurable aftershocks dancing through her body in fading decrescendo. She panted a bit to get some oxygen back. "Oh fuck, that was good."



"Amazing," he breathlessly agreed. "What happened? It was like you hit a different gear suddenly."



Christine stiffly rolled off him and onto her side facing her lover. Her hair clung with sweat against her face. "You hit my roof. Hard. I don't know, when I felt that I just wanted nothing else but to cum."



He brushed her hair back. "Well, I'm sorry you had to help yourself get there."



"Oh sweetie. There's nothing to be sorry for. I just had to race ahead of you, that's all. And, about that...forget you saw it."



"Why? That was hot!"



"Because girls don't...at least publicly...shouldn't...ugh. I don't know. It's embarrassing."



He cuddled closer to her. "Okay," he said with a kiss on her forehead.



Chapter 28



They showered, made themselves presentable, and headed down to breakfast. Since they were still somewhat early on their timetable, they took their time eating and conversing about the newest event to come. 



Back upstairs, Christine diddled with some makeup and had just fished out the jewelry she bought the night before when there was a polite knock on the door. It was Brad, prompt at 8 o'clock. Chris let him in and explained that Christine was finishing up in the bedroom.



"That little shit!"



Chris dashed in to see what was wrong.



"Oh, that guy at Tiffany's slipped in an extra chain."



Chris rolled his eyes. "Is that all?"



She detached her necklace, letting the ring fall into her open hand. "It's sweet, really. But he couldn't let it go."



"What?"



Christine threaded a delicate silver chain that matched her other purchases through his ring, turned her back to him and held the ends up behind her head. "This," she explained. "He just had to dress up your ring somehow. Now I've got to send him a thank you card."



Chris took her hint and fastened the clasps for her while she held up her hair. "Tsk tsk. That bastard," he said mockingly.



"Shut up." She spun around and stuck her tongue out at him. "Okay, I'm ready."



Brad carried the garment bag containing Chris's coat and tie and also Christine's dress for that afternoon. Today was landmark day and the couple asked Brad to take them to see the sights around the city. Common tourist things like the Hollywood sign, Beverly Hills, a couple of stadiums, and a boardwalk that had a pier extending into the Pacific. They ate lunch at one of the sub shops on the boardwalk, and Brad said that they better get headed toward the studio to allow for traffic.



As they approached the studio gates, Christine saw the complex through her cell phone screen, snapping pics at every little thing of interest, just as she had done all morning. She had promised her mom lots of photos, after all. Brad slowed in front of one studio that was ringed with a solid line of people. Most of them were in their teens, and a few at the front were packing up tents. Brad told them that was their destination and that their entrance was around back.



"Wow, what band is playing tonight?" asked Christine.



"Band? There's no band for tonight's show," he informed her. "You're the only guests scheduled."



Her mouth hung open as they pulled past the line. "Is it like this for every show?"



"Not this early. Some of the more popular guests will draw this kind of crowd, but usually not for another hour or so."



Brad pulled up to the back entrance and walked them inside. It was far different than Christine imagined it would be. There was an unobtrusive door with an overhang that they went through to enter a hallway that seemed more suited to warehouse offices than a studio. The walls were simply cinder blocks painted white, and the floor was treated concrete. Brad led them to the second door on the right where a girl stood behind a well-used podium, her papers spread out on it. Chris gathered by eavesdropping on those ahead of them that she was a traffic director, more or less. This was check-in, and she handed out assignments as workers and guests arrived.



"Well, hello!" she said cheerily when they stepped up. "Y'all are in..." she traced her paper with her finger until she found the right spot "room 12. Brad can take you there. Have fun! Brad? I'll have your assignment when you get back."



They ducked back out of the busy room and Brad led the to theirs by way of a dingy and rather institutional elevator. A couple of turns down the hallways and they were at their door on the second floor. This hallway resembled the one downstairs, only a bit nicer with carpet and drywall painted beige. The doors here were a cherry finish. A nameplate bracket on the door held a card with the "Tonight Show with Jay Leno" logo at the top and "Chris and Christine" printed neatly by hand in the center.



"I am so taking that card with me when we leave," Christine announced to no one in particular.



"Be our guest," Brad answered. He opened the door and said, "Welcome to your ready room." He let them inside and followed, hanging up their garment bag on a hotel-style coat bar mounted on the wall. "Well, sorry, but work calls. Make yourselves at home. If you need anything, just hang your head out the door. There's always someone walking by in the hall and they'll be glad to assist you." Unceremoniously, he left and closed the door behind him.



The butterflies in Christine's stomach started coming out of dormancy as the jitters set in. She turned to Chris and embraced him, more for steadying support than affection. "Oh my God, Chris." Her voice barely had any carry in it from the nerves. "Are we really doing this? Are we really here?"



He chuckled and she was surprised that his voice was affected, too. "It appears so," he rasped as he returned the hug.



She felt a lump in his pocket against her hip, but surmised that it was probably his keys. He certainly sounded excited, but the nervous sound in his voice couldn't possibly allow THAT. Or could it? Boys were weird, she thought and decided to check out the room as a distraction from all the random thoughts in her head. "So much for my imagination being correct," she said aloud to herself.



If number of amenities was a measure of luxury, then this room would have been a 5 star space, if a little sparse on furniture. The room was clean, almost to the point of appearing unfinished. The walls were of Sheetrock, but a mostly bare light gray. Straight ahead, a door guarded the bathroom, complete with a shower. To the left was the dressing area with vanities and lighted mirrors. Aside from a bargain basement 20 inch TV mounted near the ceiling and a worn sofa on the opposite wall, the central space was void of any hindrances like furniture. A card table style buffet table was set up against a wall in the dressing area and held a bowl of fruit beside a tray of pretzels and chips. On top of the cling wrap covering the bowl was a card that read simply, "Welcome. Please enjoy this gift while you are waiting."



Christine picked up one of the pretzels and popped it into her mouth. "You know, I am so taking a shower in there when it's time to get ready."



"You are SO going to?" Chris jabbed at her sudden Valley Girl talk. She'd often repeat the same style whenever she wasn't comfortable. He thought it was cute, but he knew it was her way of trying to camouflage her nerves.



She stuck her tongue out at his jab, secretly disappointed in herself that she was doing it again without thinking. "Yeah, SO going to," she said firing back. "How many people can say they took a shower in Jay Leno's studio?"



A knock preceded the door opening and a young woman appeared to offer a tour of the studio before they got ready. They got to see the other two studios housed in the building and their impromptu tour guide gave them an insight to why the downstairs hallways were a bit shabby. Studio 11 was a relatively new studio, and with the controversial host swaps in recent years, things were moved around quickly between Studio 3 and Studio 11. When NBC sold the studio complex to Universal, The Ellen Show moved out and down the street to Warner Bros. That move was completed in a single weekend, hence things frequently got away from their handlers and rammed the doors and walls. The bigger ready rooms were reserved for groups like live bands and such. They guessed that THOSE rooms probably were closer to what they imagined. Last on the walk-through was the Tonight Show stage, and where they would be standing when the show started. They visited the control room and got to see Jay take the stage, sit at his desk, and prepare by reading his notes while the lighting crew made adjustments.



"So, is there a rehearsal?" Chris asked.



"Yeah, normally," she replied. "But the producers want this episode to be about your "real" story. Win or lose, they want the country to see you for you. No acting or expected responses."



"But, Jay's preparing," protested Christine.



"He doesn't know you. So, he's freshening up on our research. Don't worry. You lived through what happened and that's enough preparation. Our producers have a feeling about you two, so just be yourselves. We can say that with confidence, because we've spoken with your principal and others. If only every class had role models such as yourselves."



They returned to their room and were greeted by a hair stylist and makeup artist. The stylist wanted a fresh start with Christine and asked her to take a quick shower. She turned to Chris with her tongue stuck out and said, "told you!"



Brad came in with a couple of covered hangers and handed one to Chris with instructions to wear the contents for the show. Chris pulled the curtain across the dressing area to change. When he was done, the two artists worked quickly with his hair and bringing color to his face that otherwise would have been washed out under the stage lighting.



Christine came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. She stopped short when she saw the stylist putting the finishing touches on Chris's wardrobe. "What the...?!" she exclaimed.



He grinned and handed the other hanger to her. "We're supposed to wear these for the show."



She unzipped the cover and gasped loudly. "My prom dress!"



The stylist explained, "The formal wear chains y'all bought or rented from for that night felt compelled to donate those to you. Wearing them on the show would be free advertisement for them."



Christine put the dress on, and when she drew the curtain back, the two ladies went to work. Chris watched the small TV, locked onto a NBC promo loop, while he waited for the transformation to finish on Christine. He heard the hair dryer run for a couple of minutes, followed by feminine voices that he didn't pay attention to. Christine engaged the experienced gals in conversation, picking up as many beauty tips as she could. She endured the tugging, pulling, and pushing on her head while brushes, sponges, and powder puffs dabbled color onto her face.



When it was over, she presented herself to Chris. All he could say was, "Wow."



"Am I so different?" she asked, fishing for a compliment.



He stood and hugged her. "Nope. Same beautiful girl. You did it again. You stole my breath." He leaned in and whispered in her ear, "But I liked how you looked that night better."



She squeezed him back in gratitude, and the ladies wished them luck as they departed. Once alone, Christine backed a step, took Chris's hand with her own trembling set and placed it between her breasts. "Feel that? I'm so nervous that my heart feels like it's going to jump out of my chest. You look calm as a stone. How do you do it?"



"Trying to think about other things."



"Like?"



He smiled down at her. "This morning."



So that WAS what she thought it was earlier. "Horn ball," she accused flatly.



"Said the kettle. Anyway, what would calm you down?"



She thought about the times she was nervous for a performance. Christmas, school functions, recitals. "Well, how about warm-ups?"



He thought it strange but agreed anyway. He sounded "Middle C" with his voice and Christine used that as the starting point for their funny sounding scales. Flah Flah Nee's ascending, then nooah nooah nooah's descending. At the end, he broke out singing their old warm-up favorite, "A Whole New World" from Disney's "Aladdin." She smiled, surprised that he remembered all this...the last voice lesson he attended was nearly four years ago. Christine joined in on her usual part of the duet, really the perfect piece for what they used it for. Equal parts, and it covered most of their vocal ranges.



A small round of applause broke out from the door they hadn't noticed opening, and they spun around to see several interns and assistants gathered there. Christine was embarrassed to have been caught singing, but her plan worked. She was for the most part settled now. Once the compliments were doled out, one of the assistants said it was time to head down.



An in-house reporter crew interviewed them next to the stainless steel elevator doors that led down to the stage area. In CC's eyes, it was a rather boring interview, focused on how they were feeling just before they went on-air. The charade was aired later on some early morning entertainment news show, and a copy was given to them before they left the studios. Someone pushed the elevator call button and they stepped inside, Christine snapping the tension and last bit of nerves out of her hands, as she customarily did before performing.



Chapter 29



They closed the short distance to the stage side entrance, Chris's crutches intentionally left upstairs. From the other end of the stage, they could see Jay pacing, occasionally shaking hands with a few of his crew. Rickey Minor and his band started playing the intro, and the assistant gave them only one instruction: walk out and meet Jay at center stage when he makes the introduction. The announcer started his role late into the introduction piece, as there were only the "Prom Miracles" and a surprise guest to announce. Jay was introduced and he walked out to the fore-stage as the band finished the intro piece. He stood there, welcoming the audience and explaining that this show would be slightly different, and his monologue would be shortened.



While he started his monologue, which was humorously focused on the feud he had with his producers over this show, Christine felt Chris's weight shift back. "You wanna run, now?"



"Yeah," he whispered. "You?"



"Hell yeah."



They turned back and Jay was ruefully saying that judging by scenes outside today, he was being proved wrong. "Take a look," he said and a screen came down to show the video. The couple could see what was being shown via two monitors behind stage. It showed a ribbon of people extending away from the building they were in. "That's how popular my next guests are." The audience applauded. "Normally, I'd have spliced in footage of the 'million man march' or something, but that was the actual scene outside at 8 this morning when tickets were being handed out for this show. Actual footage. Amazing. I would have never believed that a couple of high school kids who aren't football stars or teen rock stars would be this popular. Well, since their prom, I think they've barely seen the light of day." There was a slight chuckle. "In all seriousness, this show is all about the real thing. Their real story, in their own words. We haven't rehearsed, and in fact we haven't even met...until right now. Newspapers across the country labeled them the 'Prom Miracles.' Please welcome Chris Zehyr and Christine Barron!"



Chris's foot felt good that day, and they crossed the stage hand in hand, with only a slight limp from him. Jay shook his hand, and gave a quick embrace to Christine, which she returned with a quick peck on Jay's cheek. He motioned them to the sofa while the audience was still cheering wildly. Both gave a wave to the crowd before taking their seats, Christine closest to Jay. He welcomed them to his show, and Christine responded with a "Thanks, Mr. Leno."



"Please, Mr. Leno is my dad's name. Call me Jay. So! How are you two doing? You both look great, by the way."



Chris answered, "Thanks, Jay. We're great. Much better than we were about a month ago."



"You like LA so far?"



"We're happy to be anywhere right now, honestly," said Christine. "But, Los Angeles is a beautiful city."



Jay went through some more pleasantries with them, finishing off by asking them if they ever thought they would be this popular. He had more video shown of the overflow audience that filled the studio in the next room. They agreed that never had they imagined they would be the center of a national story.



"Forgive me," Jay said, "I normally don't play a reporter. I get the stories behind the stories through conversation. So this is new to me as well. Let's start from the beginning. How did you two meet?"



They took turns relating how they met on the playground, playing tag and going after each other so much, the other kids changed the rules so that they could play, too. Then Christine recalled their first dance, and the blunder he made by asking her out to a Sadie Hawkins dance.



Jay stopped them there. "Wait, wait, wait," he said while chuckling. "It's a Sadie Hawkins dance, where the girls invite the boys and HE asked YOU out?"

<hr pg="7" />Chris piped up. "Do what? You didn't tell me that! My mom said it would be nice to ask you out for a dance, so I did."



She patted his knee. "Aww, I didn't want to hurt your feelings, so I let you ask me."



Chris smirked. "All these years, and you tell me NOW, on national TV."



Jay and the audience ate it up. "But that wasn't the only dance, was it?" he asked, working to move the plot along.



Christine said no, that they regularly asked each other to the other dances, and that the correct person did the inviting from then on. 



The host asked if that was how they ended up at prom together...that they just kept seeing each other.



Chris corrected him by saying that when high school started, they went to a couple of dances together, but grew apart.



Christine related the fight they had in Drama Club, how it caused a rift between them that wasn't repaired until Chris's grandmother took ill. She said that she would often go with Chris to see her and that the result was a renewal of their friendship, but dances and other romantic interests were directed elsewhere.



Jay referenced the huge part the dogs would play later on, and got them talking about Christine's family's hobby of breeding Shelties, and how Chris would feed and exercise them when they were out of town. The topic turned back to high school and their active roles. Pictures were displayed on the screen from the talent shows, the play, cheerleading, track, senior retreat, and them singing the national anthem with Christine's knee locked in its brace. He asked about the senior prom and how they ended up together.



They went through their separate stories about who they were supposed to go with, and how they got dumped the week before so that their dates could go together.



"How ironic. So, I understand that the whole class went to Prom. You got back together because each of you was the only choice left?"



"Not quite," said Christine. She related how she was going to not go, and Chris chimed in the same.



"But...then what?"



Christine fought back emotions when she talked about the epiphany Sarah had inspired in her, and that when Chris came through her window to share his good news about the district meet and going to the state finals, she confessed her love to him and to herself.



The photo with Christine posed above the State track team was displayed. Jay asked, "So, tell me about this picture, and how it relates to the timing of events?"



They both laughed at the memory the photo triggered, and said that they didn't consider what that meant before. Then they told the story about begging for Prom to be pushed back, so that the senior state finalists could attend. Jay pushed for more of a story on the picture itself, and they went on to say how Christine was adopted as the team's cheerleader. After the boys won State as a team, they insisted on having Christine in the photo, since she pushed them so hard at the end.



Jay said that this was a good place for a break and told the audience not to go anywhere, as they'll be right back.



Later when the show actually aired, the TV broadcast flipped to some news clips about the couple being missing. A voiceover urged the viewers to stay tuned for what really happened.



During the break, Jay told them that they were doing fine. They sipped some water while Jay polled the audience informally to find out how much they knew about the couple. Then he allowed some spontaneous questions from the audience about what was related so far, and the couple readily obliged in their answers. Cues came from behind the cameras for the 15, 10, and 5 second warnings.



"Okay, so we're back with Chris and Christine," Jay said to the camera with the red light. "So far, you've told us about your friendship, and how strong that was. I was told that collectively, you two became known as 'CC' at the school. How did that start?"



They chuckled at the reference, saying they really didn't know when it started. They guessed that their friends saw them together so much, they got tired of saying Chris and Christine. About the same time they noticed it, their families started calling them the same thing.



"So, everyone at the school assumed you two were involved?"



"In afterthought, I suppose so," said Chris.



"But you weren't?"



Christine said, "Officially, not until the night after his district meet. But I think we secretly hoped all along."



Chris nodded.



"So, a week after the track meet was Prom," Jay led.



"Correct," Chris said. "The day after senior finals week."



"Tell me how the night started."



Christine took the lead and started out by saying how Chris arrived and pinned the corsage on her dress. He picked up and talked about his parents showing up and insisting on pictures. One of the cuter shots was displayed while he was talking.



"So, this was what you wore that night," Jay referenced what they were wearing now.



"Well, not THESE exact clothes," said Christine. "Those were burned in the hospital incinerator, I think. But yes, we are wearing replacements of our apparel that night."



Jay started to have them walk through dinner, but Chris stopped him. "One more thing, Jay. It might be important to note that my dad let me borrow his car at this point."



"So, the sports car wasn't yours? What were you driving, then?"



Chris took out his cell phone, flipped through the photo gallery and brought up a picture of him standing next to the car that belonged to his grandmother. One of the cameras zoomed in on the image he held up.



Jay was laughing. "Your car is an Oldsmobile POS, while your dad has a flashy Firebird?"



"That's right. Well, HAD would be a better word. Now, he's driving the Olds until the insurance reimburses him for his car."



"Okay," Jay said while still laughing. "So you're driving your DAD's car with Christine next to you to dinner. What's next?"



They related how Chris saw the lightning in the distance and brought a blanket into the fancy restaurant.



"How weird would that look?" asked Jay. "Let me paint that picture for the audience. Two young people dressed as you are now, bringing not an umbrella. No! That would be too normal! But bringing a blanket into a fancy restaurant. What did they say?"



"Nothing," said Chris. "They looked at us funny, though."



"Who wouldn't?!" The audience was rolling now. "Why not an umbrella?"



"I couldn't find one in my dad's car."



"But you brought a blanket with you?"



"Yes, I moved that from my car."



"Why?"



"Hello, Jay...two young people just got involved with each other after a long friendship with a beach inside driving distance? Why WOULDN'T I have a blanket with me?"



The audience laughed along with a couple of catcalls.



Jay ate it up. "Christine, you haven't said much about this."



"I'm just thanking God that he stopped talking when he did just now."



"So now I get why the umbrella was forgotten," the host said, wiping away a laughter tear from the outside corner of his eye.



"Exactly," said Chris, and he moved on, talking about how well dinner went.



Christine provided some embellishments about how they stayed later than they should, drinking sodas and talking.



They continued by describing how the rain was pouring down when they left and how Chris used the blanket to cover their heads. Next was the photo shoot, and the now-famous portrait was displayed to many "aww's" from the audience. Then, they ran through getting ribbed for being late, the senior walkout, and how someone had the DJ change the music to the theme from "Cheers" for their own introduction. Christine related how everyone, including the chaperones, clapped when the DJ confirmed that they were now a romantic couple. They lastly described how everyone eventually got involved in the dancing.



"So, what happened then?" Jay prompted.



"A teacher came up to tell us that the king/queen crowning was next," said Christine. "So, I told Chris that I wanted to freshen up. We gathered our coats and my handbag, I motioned to Sarah to come with us, but she mouthed back that she wanted one more dance."



"Where were you going?"



"To the bathroom," Christine said. "We drank a lot of soda after dinner, remember?"



"So, I finished using the facilities, and waited for her in the hallway," Chris continued.



"And then what?"



Christine answered, "I came out, and he asked to kiss me."



The audience awwed again, but Christine put her hand up.



Laughing lightly she explained, "No, no. That was my fault. Up to this point for a couple of weeks, I required him to ask for permission before doing so. Long story that doesn't belong here. Anyway, we were there, alone in the hallway, kissing. We were kissing so long and it felt so great, I thought my knees were going to buckle."



Someone in the audience let out a "Yeow!"



Christine whipped her head in that direction. "I know, right?" She looked at Chris next to her. "It really was that good." She turned back to Jay. "So, anyway, we break the kiss, and my knees feel like they're going to buckle for a different reason. The knee I wrecked in cheerleading ached horribly, and I felt this weird sensation in my stomach, like someone had just punched me. At first, I thought that feeling was excitement from the kiss."



"But, I felt it, too," said Chris. "At that point, I knew we didn't have much time."



"So, hold up," said Jay. "How do you go from 'I think I'm gonna puke' to 'there's a tornado coming, we better move?'"



Christine looked at Chris again. "That's all you. I still don't understand how you came to that conclusion."



Chris took a deep breath. "Simple, really. I just put all the pieces of the puzzle together. Sudden storm during dinner. The wind shifted when we arrived for photos. It's usually windy before a storm hits, not in the middle like that. Then, my joints ached a bit and at the same time I felt that stomach thing. Never had that happen before, but I guessed it was a sudden pressure change, and we had to move quickly if I was right."



"That and you must have heard something."



They both shook their heads. Christine said, "That was the strange thing. We didn't hear much of anything. Even the bass from the music was muffled really low. I thought Chris was nuts when he dragged me running down the hall."



Leno said, "Running down the hall...what were you looking for, Chris?"



"Actually, I had my eye out for something sturdy to get under, but I was looking at each doorknob as we went past them."



"Doorknobs?" asked Jay.



"Yeah, looking for one I hoped I could get open."



"Didn't you think to try them on your way down to see if one was unlocked?"



Christine chimed in, "I think at this point, we could feel a little vibration on the floor."



Chris nodded. "Yes, and I think I knew we had one shot to get a door open, so I made sure it was one I had a reasonable chance to break in, if it was locked."



"So what knob were you looking for?"



"A door that opened outward, no deadbolt, no security plate covering the latch."



"You found one?"



"Yes, and it was locked."



"What then?"



Christine answered, "Even though I felt the vibrations getting stronger, I think I dismissed it as being an air conditioner or something. So, I thought Chris was completely out of his gourd when he pulled a card out of his wallet and said something like 'I hope I still remember how to do this.'"



"How did you know how to pick that lock?" Jay asked.



Chris gave a sheepish grin. "Well apologies to Sister Collins and my parents before I say this. My mom is a school teacher, and she would have to drop me off at school early. After a while, I got bored, and just started trying on a couple of doors. Eventually I got good at it, though I never set foot inside a room I opened up. Just didn't cross that line."



"Never?"



Chris just smiled.



"Okay, sure...we'll let that one go. So, you were able to pop this lock?"



"Yeah. It turned out to be a break room for the course's resident caddies. It had a good-sized table we could get under."



"But you didn't get straight under it?"



Christine shook her head. "He told me to grab the bottles of water off the counter while he raided the fridge."



"You had to hurry, but still had time for a snack?"



The audience laughed.



Chris shrugged. "The building was still standing. It only took seconds, anyway."



"But why?"



Chris continued, "Be Prepared. If I was right, and we were under the table, and everything came crashing down on us, we'd probably need some food until we could get out. Plan for the worst, hope for the best."



"In this case, the worst happened."



Christine nodded. "It sure did. I was sitting on the floor under the middle of the table, the vibrations getting stronger, but I still threw him a dirty look. He said that he would put it back if he was wrong. But he wasn't. There were some amazingly loud cracks above us, and Chris grabbed me, rolling me on top of him next to the legs of the table. Right after, everything came down and broke the table, right where I was. A chair that was on the table fell and the back of it hit his head, knocking him out."



"We were able to get that table. Would you two mind humoring us for a demonstration?"



They shook their heads that they didn't mind, and a couple of stage hands brought over the battered half they were under. Chris stepped nearby and laid on the stage, his head toward the audience. Christine straddled him, smiling at the catcalls while doing so. She looked down and noticed his chest brace was missing.



"Where's your brace?" she asked.



"This shirt wouldn't fit with it on. Besides, it would have interfered with the microphone I'm wearing."



"Are you sure about this, then?"



He nodded and she laid down on him, pulling her elbows in toward his shoulders. Jay asked if they were ready and they nodded. The stagehands lowered the table over them, and Christine could feel it's weight on her back.



"The top doesn't even touch the ground," Jay said in wonder.



"Wait," said Chris. "I remember now." He let about half the air out of his lungs, and sure enough, Christine felt the weight disappear.



"Oh, there it is," commented Jay. "Yup, both ends are touching ground."



A cameraman came on stage and walked around to give the audience a look from all angles. Chris's feet were the only thing hanging out. The audience in the studio stood and craned to get a good look at the impossible-looking position.



"I don't believe it," said Jay. "You two actually fit under there. How?"



"I don't know," replied Chris from the floor. "One thing is I can't take full breaths."



"You fit," Jay said, "but reports say you actually ate and drank like that? That would be a neat trick, since Chris's arms are pinned at his sides."



Christine answered, "Want us to show you? Give me a bottle of water."



A bottle was fetched from just off-stage and handed to her. She complained that it wasn't sealed like the ones she found that night, but pretended the seal was there, her thin arms working minutely with the neck of the bottle. Then she tilted her head to the side, squeezed the bottle, and took a drink and swallowed. The audience applauded, and she held up a finger to quiet them. She took another swig, inched up Chris's body, lowered her lips to his, and released the water into his mouth. He gargled to show he actually had it, then swallowed. All without a stray drop. The audience, stage crew, and Jay gave a resounding applause.



Through it, Christine heard a dull tinging a familiar pattern from behind her. She looked back, and his ringless finger was tapping against the table leg. "Ooh, get me up," she said urgently. "Chris is getting stressed."



The stagehands removed the table, and she got up in one swift fluid motion. As she pulled him upright, he said that he was fine.



"I could hear it," she rebutted, coaxing his still twitching finger to relax.



Jay said that it was a good place for a break, and they returned to the sofa, taking turns drinking from the bottle that had been given them for the demonstration.



After Jay welcomed the TV audience back, he questioned Christine about her sudden urgency to get up. She replied that she could tell he was getting stressed by hearing him tapping against the table leg. Then, she explained that he tapped a distress signal with his ring against that leg for hours, in the hopes that someone outside could hear it. The cameraman came back on the stage and zoomed in to show the worn spot on the metal table leg. Christine pulled out his ring from under her dress collar, and showed another camera and Jay the beaten underside of his ring.



"The building came down on you, what did you do then?"



"I screamed for like the first three hours straight," said Christine. "Chris was out, so I was just hysterical at first, then I focused a bit and screamed 'help, help, help' over and over for what seemed like forever."



Chris added, "when I woke up, she sounded like Rose at the end of 'Titanic.'" He squelched in a raspy whisper for effect, "Come back! Come back!"



Jay and the audience laughed at the impersonation. Then he said he wanted a reaction to some video clips collected of the early stages of the rescue and recovery.



The couple held hands while the video played and the death toll increased. Images of the piled cars and mangled building flashed by, and interviews with rescuers portrayed the fleeting hope of survivors. The last clips showed the renewed urgency when the couple was not found among the dead, and the graphic from one news station proclaiming full-screen, "Where Are They?" remained on the viewer.



"No one knew where you two were. The car you drove was gone, you weren't there. Did you hear some of the theories later that had been circulated around?"



"We did," answered Christine. "One was that we never went to the dance. Along with that theory was one that said we skipped Prom to drive off and elope. The most plausible ones involved us leaving early for the beach..."



"To use the blanket," Chris interjected with a wink.



She nudged him with her elbow during the laughter then continued, "...or a motel somewhere. I say plausible, not because we'd do that, but because we were able to get the chaperones to let us leave early for other dances."



"Why was that?"



Chris answered, "Because they trusted us. The faculty knew that we weren't going to go out drinking and plaster someone across the highway. And they were right. We'd get bored and leave, going bowling or to the beach to sit and listen to the waves come in."



"Any other theories?"



Chris continued, "Only two bizarre ones. One said that we were sucked up into the tornado, Wizard of Oz style, never to be seen again. The other one was literally out of this world. That it wasn't a tornado at all, but rather aliens destroyed the clubhouse and abducted us."



"Aliens?" Jay asked incredulously.



Christine nodded. "Aliens. For real, that was one of the things told to us later."



"But all those theories, not one said you were still there?"



They both shook their heads. "Only Tom, my brother, thought we were still there," said Christine.



"So what was it like under there?"



"Dark," said Chris. "Dark, dusty, hot, and strangely quiet."



"Quiet except for the..." Christine twirled her hand above her head to finish her thought.



"Right, except for the cracks and groans of the building settling. When we got hungry, we'd eat the leftovers I snagged from the fridge. When thirsty, we'd take swigs from the bottled water. But, mostly we just talked."



Christine picked it up from there. "After a while, we pretty much figured everybody else had perished. We cried when that reality set in, then distracted ourselves with other random topics."



"Distracted from what?"



"The probability that we were going to die with the rest," Chris answered. "Either from suffocation on my part since I wasn't able to breathe well with her on top of me, or starvation on hers. That, or when they got around to clearing the rubble, there was a good chance that our pocket would collapse, if the bulldozer didn't get us first. That whole time was horrible, aside from being with Christine. I have a new found respect for earthquake survivors who get pulled out alive days later."

<hr pg="8" />"I can't even imagine," Jay said.



"No one can, until they go through it themselves," answered Christine.



"And all this time, you didn't hear anyone calling your name or looking for you?"



"Not once," said Chris. "We did feel the ground shake when they started clearing the ballroom to recover our classmates' bodies."



"But your dad was there..."



"Yes," Christine answered. "He was there to help with any injuries, but several hours later, it became apparent that his services would not be needed. With the car missing, and no sign of us, he was convinced to go home."



"About the same time your brother made it in town."



"That's correct."



"We'll be right back with the stunning rescue and happy ending for Chris and Christine," Jay said to a camera.



After the break, Leno questioned them about Tom arriving, and his idea on bringing the dogs. A photo was displayed on screen that pictured the dogs waiting near Tom during the rescue. Christine said she thought it worked because they were used to the couple's scent, and it was sort of a game to them to find their hidden playmates. Jay brought up how Lady found the car.



Chris smiled, "There's that blanket again. The car windows got smashed, and it somehow floated out."



Jay asked how far away the water hazard was, and was astonished that the answer was 500 yards. Then Christine detailed how Pepper dove down into the rubble to find them. She went through how and why she clipped the barrette the way she did, which triggered the new rescue effort. It came out that Chris's pinging allowed the crews to start at the correct place.



A time-lapse video of the rescue was played, showing the choreography of the bucket trucks, and ending with the tarp being stretched over.



"Were you told what the tarp was for?"



"Yeah, I had given Tom a hint in the note I sent back with Pepper the second time. We were a mess, and he didn't want that shown to the world."



"I think everyone would understand why you were dusty..."



"We ate, we drank...we were a mess, Jay," Chris said curtly.



He got the hint and moved onto a new video that was taken by a rescuer manning one of the lights on the rim. It showed the moment that the rescuers uncovered their faces, profanity bleeped out, of course. The audience laughed at Christine's surprise greeting to the rescuers, then sank into deep concern when that clip ended with her urgently telling the crew that Chris just broke something. Her hair covered his face, but they could hear him gasping in the background. She detailed that at that point, she had felt the sudden downward shift under her, and how she used the rest of her strength to prop herself off of him as much as possible.



Another clip showed the rush to get them to the hospital, and Christine related how Tom worked to get them to the same facility. Chris was asked what he was thinking this whole time, and he responded that he could only concentrate on trying to breathe. Jay asked for and got details on their injuries: skin rashes, cracked bones, Chris's torn ligaments in his ankle. Then there was the story on how Christine arrived in his room and hopped into his bed, so they could both sleep.



Chris answered the question about whether they found out what happened. "Um, a tornado tore apart the building we were in."



The audience laughed and cheered the obvious answer.



He continued, "But seriously, we visited the site just before graduation, and a couple of investigators were there." He went on to relate that what they had figured out so far was that the building was built for energy efficiency, so one factor was that the steel beams were spaced slightly wider than normal to accommodate extra insulation. The building had also been mostly airtight, hence the reason they couldn't hear the music in the hallway, nor the approaching tornado. The theory was that the sudden pressure change from the twister caused their ears to pop, and the exterior walls to break outward, sending the roof to fall straight down, crumbling everything along the way. It was explained to him that he somehow picked up on the only warning that could have been perceived. Minute oscillations in the floor from the tornado touching down before the parking lot, coupled with the torrential rain that wrapped it, traveled up their legs and could have caused the sudden nausea they felt just before everything happened. The more severe vibrations they felt those few seconds under the table were when the ballroom was being torn apart.



"Since then, you two have been very busy doing some amazing things," Jay commented to move along the discussion.



"I wouldn't say 'amazing,'" Chris said.



"Well, let's take a look."



The attention turned once again to the view screen that displayed a slide show of pictures from the Grad Nite trip that were emailed in from parents who attended. Dubbed over the presentation were snippets of telephone interviews given by those parents who gushed over the success of the trip. Following that were clips taken from their graduation, concluding with Christine speaking the final line of their speech.



Most of the audience was moved to tears, and even Jay had to swallow against the lump in his throat. "* I * would call that amazing," he said. "How did you two come up with the ideas for your trip and your speech?"



They said that they had discussed both in the hospital, wanting only to do their part to comfort their friends' families. They hadn't counted on the recognition resulting from it.



"Speaking of fame, you two did some photo shoots for your cellphone company and for Disney. These images show the final advertisements to be debuted in magazines next week." 



First was the T-Mobile ad page. The two were back-to-back, each resting a foot in mid-air against the other in a mirror image, almost as if they were leaning against a wall between them. Christine was in a sweatshirt with pajama bottom pants, Chris in jeans and a button down shirt. The background was split where their backs met, and made it seem like Christine was in a dorm room, while Chris was at an office. Both appeared to be texting on the phone in their hands. The page read, "T-Mobile, it's how we stick together when we're apart." Under each person was their signature.



Next was a two-page horizontal spread for Disney. The picture they signed off on filled the space. The wording in the bottom right corner read, "Come see Disney, and fall in love with us all over again."



The audience applauded, and Jay complimented them. "Very nice! Is this what you're going to do now that you're discovered? Model for magazine ads?"



They laughed and Christine said no, that they were heading to college, and that Chris just accepted a position with their diocese, directing the youth groups.



"So you have other talents. My producer told me during one of the breaks that you two were singing before coming on stage. Singing?"



Chris nodded. "Christine wanted to follow a routine we would do before events at Catholic. That routine was vocal warmups."



"I heard y'all were quite good. Want to share that with the country?"



Christine giggled nervously. "Are you sure you want to take that risk?"



"I don't see why not. You haven't disappointed us so far. Let's ask the audience. Do you want to hear them sing?"



The answer was a resounding yes followed by cheering.



He looked at a camera. "There you have it folks, up next CC sings...don't go away."



The stagehands moved things around on the side stage where the band was, and Chris and Christine walked over to sit at the grand piano that was rolled out. Chris faced the keyboard, and Christine perched so she was facing the audience. The lights faded out, signaling the return to taping, and Chris pecked her cheek for luck.



The lights slowly came back up and the audience cheered. Chris leaned into the microphone and said, "This is Lady Antebellum's Need You Now." The applause rose again, then faded as he started playing the notes. Rickey Minor and his band joined in the background, keeping the focus on the piano and Christine's voice as she started singing the duet.



Chris's playing was dead-on, they both hit their notes with precision, and the tune was lovely. Most of all, it was performed with pure emotion.



When the last chord was played, the audience jumped up and gave a solid ovation, joined by Jay and the band. The pair rose and took a curtsey and bow, then Chris gently pushed Christine's shoulder down and she sat back on the bench. To everyone's amazement, he got down on a knee before her and reached into his pocket.



"Christine," he said with a trembling voice. "You've haunted my mind since that day on the playground. You've been with me every step of the way through most of my life, present especially when I needed you most. You were with me during the worst time in our lives, and I cannot imagine anyone else as my partner. Will you do me the absolute honor of sharing the best times as my wife?" He opened the box and held it before her, displaying his grandmother's wedding ring.



Her nose and chin quivered and her eyes flooded with tears. You could have heard a pin drop in the studio. "Now?" she mouthed.



"When you least expected it, right?" he smiled hopefully as he referenced her playful promise from the trip and graduation.



She smiled widely and sniffed while taking the ring and examined it. Finally, she put it on her finger and eeked out a choked up "Yes." She sniffed again, threw her arms around him and said, "Absolutely, yes, I'll marry you!"



The crowd went nuts with cheers, whistles, and applause. From the main stage, Jay stood and applauded them as the lights faded back down.



During the break, a makeup artist rushed to touch up her face, cleaning what the tears wrecked. Jay shook his head and said that Chris had a lot of guts to do that on his show. He said that for the effort, he better get an invite to the wedding. They promised that he definitely would.



Resuming the taping, Jay congratulated the couple, both for a job done well tonight, and for their engagement. He said there was one last segment for a surprise guest.



Looking at Christine he said, "We asked your mom if you had one favorite actor. She said you did."



Her eyes got wide. "No way! He's here?"



"He is. Would you like to introduce him?"



She covered her mouth in excitement. "Would I?!" She faced the audience. "Ladies and gentlemen, Matthew McConaughey!"



They stood when Jay walked around to greet the attractive actor. When he passed by them to reach his spot to sit next to Jay, Chris shook his hand, and Christine literally vibrated when she gave him a hug and peck on the cheek. She sat next to him on the sofa, eying him up and down, trying to soak in every detail.



"Surprised, Christine?" Jay asked.



Chris answered for her. "She's so excited, it makes me glad that I already gave her that ring."



Everyone laughed. McConaughey smiled in good humor. "Yeah, amazing, amazing story y'all have going for you there."



"Isn't it?" asked Jay.



"Sure. If I were younger, I'd volunteer to play Chris's part in the movie."



Jay moved the conversation along to Matthew's latest projects, as well as his opinions on other movies coming out.



The show ended shortly after with Leno and McConaughey both restating their congratulations to the couple on graduation and their minutes-old engagement. 

