Author's Note: There's such a lack of stories about Freddy and Loretta, so I thought I'd try to fill the void a little. Enjoy.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own A Nightmare on Elm Street or any of its characters.
WARNING: CERTAIN CHAPTERS OF THE FOLLOWING STORY WILL CONTAIN GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT, GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, AND ADULT LANGUAGE. TO AVOID SPOILERS, THERE WILL NOT BE INDIVIDUAL WARNINGS FOR EACH CHAPTER.
Into the Furnace
Chapter One: Summertime
1958
Patches of sunlight filtered down through the tall, rustling trees. Loretta meandered along the sidewalk, in the shade beneath them. The bright green oak leaves, edged in gold, waved back and forth in the breeze.
It was almost summer time. She dwelled on that one thought, and everything it promised. It played through her mind like a movie reel: Sitting at the shoreline of the lake at night, feet splashing in the cool water. Sipping a chilled cola as condensation swelled into droplets down the outside of the glass, over her fingers. Handfuls of popcorn at the drive-in. The heat wafting up from the charcoal grill like a mirage, carrying with it the smell of sizzling hot dogs and shish-kebobs with red pepper. But her favorite always came last. Her hand draped over the steering wheel as she flew down a long, empty road in her car, with the top off and the windows rolled down. It didn't matter where she was going, because she'd never stop. She would just drive on, to the edge of the world.
Of course, she didn't actually own a car.
Adjusting the shoulder strap of her book bag, she tilted her head to study the painted advertisements in the front window of the drug store. She wondered if there was anything she should pick up on her way home from school. But the building faded into the background as she went on to the next establishment, Springwood's Laundromat. What drew her in was the red truck parked at the end of the small lot, beside a Buick. The driver's side door was open, and a pair of legs in trousers hung out. Heavy, black work boots nearly touched the white line painted over the asphalt. She'd seen him before. He was the janitor at the elementary school across from hers. Sometimes, if she ate lunch outside, she'd catch him taking trash bags out to the dumpster around the side of the building. The attention he gave to the children as he went back through the playground was sweet. When one or two of the kids would follow him, bored with their jump ropes or baseballs, he always stopped his work to humor them. He'd bend down, grin, ruffle their hair. She could never hear what he said, but it must have been funny, because it always made them giggle.
Loretta continued down the sidewalk, eyeing him. His arm hung around the back of the seat, with a white pack of Lucky Strikes rolled up in the sleeve of his t-shirt. Smoke curled from the glowing end of the cigarette balancing on his bottom lip, and dissipated above the roof of the truck.
When he caught her gaze, she looked to the other side of the street. She stopped a little ways past him and peered over her shoulder.
He made no effort to hide that he was still watching her.
Turning on her heel, she crossed into the vacant lot and went to where he sat, sideways on the driver's seat.
"Hey." she said, unsure of what compelled her to do this. "Are you going inside?"
His burning cigarette sparked to life as he took one last drag, and crushed it on his heel. He tossed it behind Loretta, onto the pavement.
"Yeah." he replied, voice calm and low.
"The washer in the back left is defective." she said with a grin, "It thinks that pennies are nickels."
His blue eyes twinkled with faint amusement.
"Third one from the corner, with a dent in the top." she went on, then paused. "You went to my school, right?"
He nodded, a slight smile lighting his face as he leaned forward. "My name's Freddy."
Giving a nod of acknowledgment, she walked a few steps backward before turning to find the sidewalk and continue her trip home. She only had a few hours before her shift at the diner started. Hurray.
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Loretta took a slice of key lime pie out of the small glass display case, and slid it over the counter toward an elderly man. He thanked her, hunching over in his seat to dig in. Low, droning music from the radio mixed with the general murmur of Crave Inn Diner's evening crowd. Second and minute hands lagged around the pink face of the wall clock. After she'd passed out a few malt shakes to the little girls waving their mommy's pocket change, she looked back at it. But it had barely ticked past a few minutes. Two teenage boys snickered to each other as they sunk into the swiveling red leather stools beside the old man, who was just finishing his dessert.
"I'll be with you in just a moment." Loretta told the boys.
She went to the tall, silver cash register and popped it open, waiting for the old man. He paid, took his change, and was out through the swinging doors. She sighed, adjusting the apron over her light peach uniform. No tip, again.
The two boys were flagging her down. She took a pencil from behind her ear and went to service them.
"Ready to order?" she asked, pulling a notepad from her pocket.
"Two root beer floats." the one with thick black glasses said.
"What, are we going steady now?" the other, blonde boy teased him, swatting the back of his head. The boy's frames slid down his nose as he blushed deeply. When he was finished humiliating his friend, the blonde looked back to Loretta. "I'll have a coffee, black. And a burger with no onion. Double the pickles."
"Alright." she scribbled out the original order and rewrote it. Turning her back to them, she felt her eyes roll up towards the heavens. Every night was a never-ending parade of customers, each different, with their own particular demands, but all fundamentally the same. One after the other.
She passed the order through the small window to the cook in the back kitchen. He didn't look up as he snatched it from her hand.
One of the other waitresses, Tammy, came up behind her.
"I'm clocking out." Tammy chirped, thankful that it was finally over for her. She froze, giving Loretta a strange look. "Come here, honey."
Tammy reached up to her head. "Your hat's crooked."
She stood there, feeling like a child as the older woman adjusted her little white headpiece. When she was done, she brushed a few strands of light brown hair off Loretta's forehead.
"Hang in there, 'kay?" Tammy said. Then she was gone.
Loretta headed out from behind the counter, toward the two-seater tables lined up under the long window. Her shoes tapped across the black and white checkered tiles as she met the first couple, then the next, and the next. Every seat was filled, and time dragged on.
One vanilla milkshake. Yes ma'am. Steak with a side of potatoes. Onion rings and ketchup. Sir, the ketchup is on the table. And anything for you, sir?
Scribble, scribble.
Smile.
When she made it back to the kitchen window, she had a small stack of orders. The cook looked at her this time, and she found herself fondly remembering when he didn't.
She faced back towards the customers, and stopped. Freddy sat at the counter, elbows propped up, mouth resting on his folded hands. She was sure he didn't see her, so she stared openly, eyes lingering on the lean contour of his forearms.
"Did you step in some quicksand, Loretta?" the manager scolded from her left. She jolted back to life, rushing to the new customers. She was careful not to serve Freddy first. Better not to seem too eager. When a mother and daughter, a police officer, and a young girl had all given her their orders, she finally went to him.
"What can I get for you?" she asked, pencil poised and ready.
"What do you recommend?"
She mentally kicked herself for blanking on not just her personal favorites, but the entire menu. All she could give him was a shrug.
"Only one piece of advice per day, huh?" he teased, chuckling. "I'll have the ham and hash browns."
"Anything to drink?"
"Just water."
She noted it down and tried to leave.
"Hang on." he stopped her mid-turn. An uncomfortable feeling nagged at the back of her mind as she waited under his even gaze. "I didn't get your name. I gave you mine."
She hesitated. "Loretta."
"You saved me twenty cents today, Loretta. Thanks."
Nodding once at him, she left to turn in the order. She selected one of the upside-down glasses from the shelf on the back wall, and filled it at the tap. Then she dropped a red and white striped straw into it, and placed it in front of him.
Again, he didn't let her go.
"Let me take you somewhere when your shift ends."
She blinked at the authoritative undertone in his voice, then shook her head. "It's not over for another half-hour, at least."
Spotting the manager's stern glare, she hurried back to work. She was honestly expecting him to be gone after he finished his meal, but he was still there when she served her last table of the night. His persistence may have even made her blush a little bit, but she wasn't sure. She'd never done it before.
When she started untying her apron, he stood up.
"Ready?" he asked.
Her chin tucked in a quick nod. Why not?
He walked her out of the diner, the bell above the doors making a quiet ding behind them. It was dark, except for the light shining down over the Crave Inn sign. A chorus of cricket chirps filled the night air.
"You want some ice cream?" he offered.
"Um…" she was examining her uniform. "I usually go right home to change. It's kind of weird going out like this."
He smirked at her, and started walking off toward the back of the lot. "Come here." he called.
She trailed behind him all the way to his truck. Pulling open the passenger's door, he bent over the seat and rummaged through his stuff.
"Here," he said, throwing the door shut. He held out a large brown jacket. She put it around herself, slipping her arms through the sleeves. They were a bit too long, and only her fingers peeked out at the bottom. She zipped it up, covering all but the hem of her dress.
Twenty minutes later, Loretta and Freddy were strolling down the sidewalk at a relaxed pace, waffle cones in hand. She prayed that none of the chocolate would smudge on her cheek, as it always seemed to do.
He had meant for them to sit in the ice cream shop for a while, but it reminded her too much of the diner, so she'd asked him to walk her home instead. It was late, anyway. She should have been home over an hour ago.
"So, what happened?" she broke the silence. He was clearly confused, so she continued, "Why did you leave school?"
She instantly regretted bringing it up. It was obvious that he held the entire subject in disdain. When he spoke, his voice was clipped, with a hint of bitterness. "It just didn't work for me. I wanted out."
"I wish I could cut school out of my life." she mused, "And work, and this whole town, too, while we're at it."
"Springwood's not such a bad place." he offered.
She sighed, kicking a tiny rock across the cement. "Yeah, but that's part of the problem. It's not bad, it's not good, it's just here. 'A nice place to live', and not do much else."
Before he could reply, if he even had one, something seized her attention, and she shot to a store window like a bottle rocket.
"I'll be right back." she assured him, handing him her half-eaten cone and darting through the doorway. Freddy leaned back to see the sign. "Roger's Books and Records". He watched her through the window, scurrying between the shelves. As she'd said, a minute later she was out, clutching a brown paper bag.
"What'd you get?" he asked.
"Nothing." she answered too quickly.
Well, now he was interested. She dreaded that playful gleam in his eyes.
"I guess you don't want this, then." he brought her cone closer to his mouth with every word, painfully slow.
"Give it back." she reached out for it, but he kept it away, laughing.
"Show me." he insisted.
She gave up the bag, exasperated, and they swapped. The waffle was safe in her grasp once again.
"This is what you bought?"
She cringed as he flipped the cover of the book around so she could see it. In cartoonish, yellow letters, the title read The Stars My Destination, by Alfred Bester. The cover was a painted illustration of a man free-floating through outer space, close to a red planet, with a green one far in the distance.
She snatched it away from him.
"Science fiction. Huh. You don't look like it." he said, amused by the brief flicker of shame on her face. "I would have bought that for you, you know."
"That's why I left you outside." she proclaimed, smirking up at him.
"Oh, yeah." his voice was thick with sarcasm, "That was the reason."
The people and storefronts rolled past them, and soon there were only trees and houses, and dim street lamps. A modest white house with dark blue shutters and a hedge of thorny white roses came up around the corner.
"Here's mine." she tossed her head towards it, relieved, but also sad that the night was over. She began tugging down the zipper of the borrowed jacket, but he stopped her, placing a hand over hers.
"Keep it. So you can hide that uniform anytime you want."
"You sure?"
"I owe you one. Now we're even."
"This jacket's worth more than twenty cents." she said, looking up at him with earnest brown eyes.
"Hmm," he side-glanced like he was contemplating something. "You're right. I guess that means you owe me, now. I'll see you Saturday night, eight o'clock."
He left her at the street corner, beginning the trip back to his truck. All she could think about as she climbed the double step to her front door was how warm that hand was.
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Freddy cranked down the window of his truck, cruising through the vacant streets. His mind went back again and again to her soft hand, so small beneath his own. How easy it would have been to crush it, to make those delicate bones splinter. Only children had ever made him think thoughts like that. Loretta wasn't a child, but she looked like one. She felt like one. His tongue skirted the ridge of his teeth as he pictured her in his clothes. Then in no clothes.
He wanted to take her to his basement, throw her little, naked body to the floor, and ram into her until bits of cement were grated in her back.
He couldn't have a child, but he could have her.
Maybe that would finally be enough.
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"Get back here, right now."
Loretta froze with her hand on her bedroom doorknob, hearing her father's guttural shout from the base of the stairs. Her stomach felt tight and squirming as she went back through the hallway and started down the steps. She stopped as her mother came into the room. Mrs. Johnson stood behind her husband, arms crossed under her chest. Plastic purple curlers were wrapped tight against her shaking head, and her ratty bedroom slipper tapped on the area rug. The look of disdain creeping over Loretta's face was shaken off as Mr. Johnson stomped the floorboards.
"Now." he said.
She reached the bottom, her mother clucking her tongue in disapproval. "Really, Loretta. I don't know what stupid idea's got itself stuck in your little brain, but you need to kick it to the curb." her words came out all in one breath, like they were racing each other to be spoken first, "You better get yourself some common sense, you-"
"Shut the hell up, Janice." her husband snapped. He pointed toward the living room like he were dismissing a dog. "Get out of here. I'm handling this."
Without a sound, she retreated into the dark room. Loretta heard her switch on the television and plop onto the sofa. The springs always creaked a certain way when her mother sat on them. She stared through the archway as a dim blue glow lit the walls deep inside.
"I don't care what you think you're gonna do. You're not. That's it." he stated.
She opened her mouth to speak, but went no further.
"Only an idiot would want to go out with a janitor." he shouted.
"He's not-"
"Unless the next words out of your mouth are 'a pathetic high school drop out who cleans up puke for a living', I don't want to hear it. I said no, and that means no. God, Loretta, you think like a two-year-old. You can't have a family with someone who can't take care of you. Do you want to starve to death?"
He glared at her, expecting a response. When she didn't give one, his face contorted with rage. "I swear to God, if you don't answer me, I'm gonna slap you."
"No. I don't." the words felt numb on her tongue.
Her father turned away, motioning toward the stairs.
"Go to bed." he grumbled.
She looked at the wooden railing, watching him disappear into the living room in her blurry peripheral. Mounting the steps one by one, she reached the landing.
A light scratching sound was coming from the bathroom, and she crept to the door to turn the knob. A furry face with two beady brown eyes was on the other side, panting up at her. Its pink tongue was proudly on display.
"Did you fall asleep in the tub again?" she asked, leaning down with hands braced against her knees. Her head cocked to the side, and the puppy copied it. When she headed for her room, it raced after her, its tiny nails clicking across the floor. Tail thrashing eagerly from side to side, it waited by her bed for permission to hop on.
"Come here, Tomato." she patted the spot beside her on the green quilt, then reached into her bag. "Look what I got."
The brown paper was crumpled into a ball and discarded somewhere to the side. She held out her new book. Tomato's nose twitched, ghosting over the cover. When it tried to lick it, she yanked it away.
"Bad boy." she scolded, then pet his head and rose from the mattress. Tomato looked like he was trying to decide whether or not to follow her. He lapped his tongue up over his wet nose and curled down into the blanket. She reached the only window in the small room, just opposite the bed, and pulled the curtain to one side of the rod. A nasty, faded stain vanished between the folds and bunches of the white fabric.
She peered out over the roofs and treetops. A sprinkling of bright stars pierced the night sky. Loretta wished she could be floating through them, up where it's as silent as the deepest part of the ocean. She would drift on endlessly, like the man on her book.
She looked back over her shoulder. "Don't fall asleep, Tomato."
The puppy's eyes snapped open at the sound of her voice. She left the window to sink into her bed, cracking open the book to the first page.
"It's story time. You don't want to miss this, trust me."
Rolling onto her stomach, she propped herself up on her elbows and let her gaze fall to the first paragraph. Excitement kindled in her belly at the start of a new tale. She read to him until both their eyelids grew heavy and slipped shut, and the only sound in the room was gentle, muted breathing.
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Rich, dark coffee poured out from the glass pot, hitting the bottom of the empty mug and filling it to the rim. Billows of thick steam carried the smell up to Loretta's nose. She breathed it in with a sigh. The remainder of the week had gone by slower than an old man in cinder-block shoes, but it was finally Saturday. Not that it mattered- she wasn't sure if she even wanted to go on that date anymore. Things had been tense the past few days. Usually, after her father screamed at her, he would slink back into silence and ignore her for a day or two. When she was little, it always gave her a knot in her gut; it seemed like it was going to last forever. Over the years, it just became normal, like a routine. But this time was different. He had gone about his week, sat at the table for all three meals, walked past her a hundred times, and not once had he spoken a word to her, or even looked her in the eyes so she'd know that he saw her.
The wooden chair slid over the yellow tiles as she pulled it out to take a seat. She tipped the cup to her lips and drank it down black, feeling the bitterness in the back of her throat.
The patter of bedroom slippers came through the kitchen arch, stopping at the fridge behind her. She heard the suctioned seal come apart, followed by the rattle of condiments and salad dressing bottles on the door.
"Want some eggs, Loretta?" her mother pulled out the carton, then went to the stove. She tucked one side of her lavender robe under the other and tied it in the front. "I wish I'd gotten some breakfast sausages when I was at the store yesterday." she said, centering the skillet on a back burner. "Maybe I was just distracted by who I ran into."
"Who'd you run into?" Loretta asked, sitting up.
"Amy Reynolds."
"So?" she shrugged.
Mrs. Johnson put her hands on the table, leaning in. "So, she wasn't shopping. She was stocking shelves."
Loretta's eyes glimmered with mischief, mirroring her mother's. Amy Reynolds went to high school with Loretta's mom. She was filthy rich, and always used to make fun of Janice for having to work as a cashier.
A uncontrolled giggle erupted between them. Mrs. Johnson cracked four eggs in half, and scrambled the yokes. They were still snickering as she poured it into the sizzling pan.
"Everybody gets what's coming to them." she told her daughter, smirking, "Even if it takes twenty years."
When the food was ready, Loretta laid out two ceramic plates, with a fork by each. They shoveled bites out of the fluffy yellow mounds before them. After the meal, Mrs. Johnson took up both empty dishes and brought them to the sink.
"Come wash these up for me, I have to get going."
"Where to?" Loretta asked, rising to her feet.
"I feel like getting some laundry done this morning. And maybe stopping to pick up some breakfast sausages on the way home." she added with a wink.
As Loretta reached the sink and turned on the tap to soak the dish sponge, she heard her mother opening the front door in the other room. Immediately afterwards came the unmistakable click of nails over the wood floor.
"You can't come with me, Tomato." her mother's voice.
There was heavy panting and a few imploring yelps, and the door shut, presumably in the dog's face.
Suds and bubbles covered Loretta's fingers as she scrubbed away at the plate. She rinsed it, front and back, and stuck it into one of the slots in the metal strainer. Adjusting the temperature of the water, she began working on the next one. A small puddle formed at the bottom of the sink. The drain had been acting up a lot lately.
Heavy footsteps came into the kitchen, and she felt her throat get dry.
"Where'd your mother go?" her father asked.
"To the Laundromat." Loretta replied, a peculiar brand of happiness swelling within her at the interaction, however insignificant it was.
He came up beside her to fill a glass with water. "Is this cold?"
"Hold on," she said, twisting off the hot, "there, try it now."
When his cup was filled, he took a sip while surveying the room. He noticed the dirty pan on the stove top, and scoffed. Her shoulders cringed.
"You girls had eggs without me?" his tone was light and playful. She relaxed as she realized he wasn't angry anymore. Spinning around to lean back against the sink, she smiled at him.
"If you'd gotten up earlier, we would have made you a plate, Rip Van Winkle."
"You little fork-tongued snake." he laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to pull her into a hug. He tucked her head under his chin. A comfortable warmth spread out within her. She hadn't noticed that she was holding on to him tighter than he was holding her until he tried to get back to the cabinets. She let go and finished the dishes, squeezing out the sponge and leaving it on the counter.
All the way back to her room, with Tomato at her heels, she tried to sort through her thoughts. She was glad that things were better at home again, but how long would it last this time? A week? Maybe two? She knew it wouldn't be long. That was the worst part; it seemed that when her life was finally at some level of peacefulness, she only worried about when it would go bad again. Those bad days were the only times she could rest her mind, because at least then the horrible anticipation was over.
And now there was Freddy. The idea darted through her mind that her parents could be right about him.
But she shook her head.
No.
If she'd never met him, they would have found something else to be upset about. Besides, she was fifteen- plenty old enough to be making her own decisions about who she goes out with. Freddy wasn't the problem. It only seemed like a big deal now, but they'd get over it. If she chooses to be with him, they'll have to accept it. They might even come to like him.
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Loretta closed the front door behind her, and stepped onto the lawn. The humid night had left dew drops clinging to the blades of grass that wet her black shoes. She glanced back through a window at her mother. The fretful woman was still pacing back and forth in front of the dining room table, dreading the return of her husband.
Freddy looked his date once over from his truck as she approached him, her fingertips playing with the top button on her light blue dress. She opened the passenger's door and climbed inside, tugging down the hem of her dress as she settled into her seat. It was her favorite, but she'd outgrown it. No matter how much she pulled, it barely reached her knees. She gave up.
"You didn't tell me what we're doing tonight." she said.
"That's because it's a surprise." he shot back as a mischievous smirk spread across his face.
"Oh, not one of those." she teased.
She didn't have to wait long to find out what it was. In less than ten minutes, their vehicle pulled onto a dusty drive way with a small white booth on the left. The skinny young man inside sat to attention as Freddy's window glided down.
"How many?" the attendant asked, trying to be discrete as he peered into the truck.
"Two." Freddy said. He reached into the back pocket of his trousers and found his wallet. The worn leather unfolded and opened up to reveal a thin layer of green bills. He passed one to the man, who nodded and waved them forward.
The truck rumbled past dozens of cars, all lined up in neat rows except for a crooked, yellow Thunderbird. At the front of the lot, cartoon popcorn buckets, sodas, and milkshakes danced on the huge, bright screen.
She felt a pang of disappointment. Of course he would take her to see some boring romance at the drive-in. All the boys did it. As much as she liked Freddy, she was trying her best not to roll her eyes. That was, until the advertisements ended and the projector rolled the title screen. Her head perked up as Invaders from Mars glowed against the white backdrop.
When she looked back to Freddy, he was staring at her with a smug grin. "Surprise." he said.
It started before she had a chance to reply, and her eyes locked onto the screen. There they remained, with absolutely no regard for anything else around her. Including Freddy.
He tried to watch the movie too, but after a few minutes he started to get restless. He glanced through a windshield behind them, into one of the other cars. A teenaged couple was necking like a pair of wild animals. The same thing was going on to their right, their left, in front of them, and everywhere else he looked. Hell, they were the only ones there actually watching the movie. Even the attendant was probably attending to himself. He felt a twinge of annoyance.
Settling back into his seat, he stretched his arm out and tried to drape it over her shoulders. But just as he did, she leaned forward and placed her hands on the dashboard. Her face was absorbed in the scene before her, lips parted in awe. His arm hung, suspended in air, before dropping back to his side. He vaguely noticed that something exciting was happening in the movie as he watched Loretta draw her curled fists up to her mouth.
He wondered what she would do if he got off his seat and walked away. Probably nothing.
In the darkness of the truck cabin, he let his gaze roam over her. Her soft brown hair was pulled back on one side and fastened with a simple, white clip. The modest tresses came down to her shoulders, resting weightless like a feather on the smooth nape of her neck. As his eyes wandered farther down, his thoughts turned as dark as the shadows around them.
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Freddy turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking spot, filing in line with the other cars to exit the theater.
"That was really fun." Loretta said with a sweet smile.
"Glad you liked it." he lied. Well, it wasn't entirely untrue; he just wished she hadn't liked it that much.
The truck picked up speed when they got to the road. Other vehicles flew past them, turning off onto different streets, and eventually they were alone. Thick woods loomed to their right, fenced off by slim telephone poles. Heavy wires sagged between them.
Loretta thought she heard something, and looked to Freddy. His mouth was moving as if he were saying something, but no sound came out. It almost looked like he was arguing with someone. As suddenly as it began, it stopped. She shot her gaze out the window and pretended that she hadn't seen anything strange.
And she hadn't, she reasoned. Lots of people talked to themselves.
Her brow knotted as the truck veered off onto the grass, close to the tree line. Freddy shut the engine off. Without hesitation, he reached over to comb his fingers through her hair, leaving a hand on the back of her head. She didn't so much as blink when he leaned in to kiss the corner of her mouth. He gave a small tug on her hair, tipping her face up, and crushed his lips down sideways onto hers. She made a startled sound at first, but eventually her arms found their way around his neck as their bodies pressed closer together. His deft fingers worked open the top buttons of her dress, exposing her plain white brassiere. He yanked one of the blue short sleeves down off her shoulder, then scooped her up to pull her onto his lap. One of her shoes came off, falling to the floor of the truck. He kissed her jaw line and throat, enjoying the tiny sounds she let out when he nipped at her soft skin.
Something stirred within him. He grabbed her knee and slid his fingers up along her inner thigh. Her dress bunched into layers as he pushed it higher. His hand dropped to his belt buckle and ripped open the leather straps as he devoured the flesh below her collar bone. She panted into his hair. Urged on by the accelerated pounding in her chest, he unzipped his fly, then hooked two fingers into the top of her cotton panties. As one side began to slide down over her slender hip, her entire body tensed.
She seized his wrist.
It took a few seconds for him to calm down, but he let her go. She scrambled back onto her seat and adjusted her clothes.
"I'm sorry." she finally spoke when he started the engine. She thought she saw him sneer for just a second, but in the dark it was impossible to tell.
"Don't worry about it." was the last thing he said the whole ride home.
The red truck pulled close to the curb in front of her house. As she reached for the handle to open her door, he grabbed her arm. She looked back to see him grinning at her.
"You shouldn't run away so fast." he pleaded, his usual charm restored. "I didn't even say goodnight yet."
She couldn't fight back a smile of her own as he stole a kiss on her cheek.
"Goodnight." he murmured.
A light wind hushed over them as she opened her door. "Goodnight, Freddy."
She listened to the engine fade off down the street, and walked back across the grass.
Inside the house, all the lights were off except in the back room where her parents sat. They always watched television in there, but it wasn't on tonight.
Not a single sound came from anywhere. The smile faded from her face. Her spirits began to sink until they were lower than the dirt as she realized what was going on. Sickening, squirming worms knotted in her gut. She thought it was over, but she was wrong.
That familiar silence was back, hanging thick like a dark curtain on her home again.
Author's note: The next chapter will be up in a week. Thank you for reading, and please leave a review. They help me write faster.
FURTHER DISCLAIMERS: I don't own The Stars My Destination, or Invaders from Mars, or Lucky Strikes cigarettes.