Dreams - August 1992
Oh my life is changing every day, in every possible way – "Dreams" The Cranberries
She liked making out with him, but she couldn't tell him that.
She liked the way he wasn't too forceful, didn't ask for too much. She liked how he didn't accept her invitations to come over and "watch TV or maybe play some Super Nintendo" as a prelude to sex. He just smiled and asked if her brothers got any new games.
She liked how he didn't pounce on her the second she closed the basement door, or how he didn't crack a smile when she locked it behind them. She liked that he waited respectfully, a decent 20 minutes or so into whatever they'd thrown into the VCR, until he made a move. Sometimes it was an arm over her shoulders, forcing her to scooch further into him. Sometimes it was a hand on her knee, or a single finger turning her head in his direction.
And every time, without fail, Mary Taylor melted into Fred Andrews and couldn't pull herself away.
It started innocently enough. They both had off from their respective summer jobs (hers at the Riverdale Public Library and his at Ace Bowling Alley) on Thursdays. Fred would come pedaling up her near empty road ("Oh, the Taylors? They live in that creepy colonial pushed right into Evergreen Forest.") on his rusty bike, always swearing that by next week he'd have the van up and running. Always a smile to her parents as they left for work, and some rough housing with her little brothers in the yard.
And then the basement.
The finished basement with the bolt lock on the door. Half the reason her parents had chosen that house when they moved to Riverdale five years ago had been that basement. Perfect place to toss a TV and ensure their children had a place 'to be kids' without ruining the good furniture upstairs. And maybe, if they had a misbehaved daughter, a place to sneak boys into.
Good thing the Taylor's didn't have a misbehaved daughter. Instead, they had Mary.
Mary Taylor. Student council vice president. First in line to be valedictorian. And a River Vixen to boot. (Although she was sure her cheerleading status was more due to her height rather than actual talent. Someone had to hold up that pyramid after all.)
Mary Taylor didn't sneak boys into her basement. She paraded them in front of her family. Had them enjoy home cooked meals. Hand led them to the basement once a week to merely make out a bit, perhaps get to second base. And yes, once or twice to third. But never all the way. Virginity was sacred and something saved for a boyfriend.
Fred Andrews was many things. Football player, bowling alley attendant, amateur rock star, all around good guy.
He was not, however, Mary's boyfriend.
That was the single reason Mary had been so on edge this summer. So stressed, despite her weekly meetings with Fred. Her family chalked it up to senior year jitters, worrying about college. Mary chalked it up to Hermione Nichols' return to Riverdale.
Three loud thumps and a door handle wiggling came from up the stairs.
"Mary! Phone!" came the voice of her youngest brother, Ian. Mary reluctantly pulled her lips away from Fred.
"Who is it?" she yelled back. Fred winced at her voice; she was perched on his lap after all. She smiled and pulled herself off him, making her way to the bottom of the basement stairs. She pulled her glasses, which were on top her head, down to her nose.
"Why's the door locked?" Ian called down.
"Why do you think, stupid?" came the snickering voice of her other brother, Brandon.
"Who's on the phone?" Mary called back up, stepping onto the first stair. School started again next week and the last thing Mary wanted to do was waste a second of her last Thursday with Fred.
"It's the hot one," Ian called. He was 12 and had gotten into a bad habit of referring to all girls as 'the hot one.'
"Who?"
"The blonde one with no tits," Brandon said. 14 and about to start his freshman year, Mary still had to knock out of his head that he couldn't talk to girls like that. "You know, the mean one."
Mary rolled her eyes and turned to Fred. She mouth 'Alice' and he rolled his eyes.
"Come back," he whined. "Just call her later."
"It could be about work."
Fred let out a laugh. "Is there some library emergency only you can solve?"
"I'll just be a second, I swear." She thundered up the stairs and unlocked the door. Brandon had the cordless phone up to his ear.
"It's a compliment, really," he was saying into the receiver, smirk on his face. "Not all guys like tits."
Mary snatched the phone from him and wacked his arm. "Scram," she mouthed at them, giving Ian a look so he wouldn't start too. She locked the door behind her and sat on the top step, smiling down at Fred.
"Yeah, Alice?"
"Tell that brother of yours if he wants to live to see his balls drop, he'd best watch his mouth."
"Sorry. He thinks starting high school gives him the right to be vulgar."
"He's starting high school? Isn't he like ten?"
"The little one is twelve, the other one is –"
"Listen, Mary." Alice's voice dropped. "I need a favor."
Mary shifted on the stairs, lip upturning. She should have known.
"What?"
"I need you to cover my shift today. I'm sick."
Mary sighed and got up. She made her way back to the worn couch and plopped down next to Fred. He slung his arm around her and she moved the phone to her right ear so he could listen in.
"You said you were sick yesterday and you turned out fine."
"Yeah, but now it's happening again. I feel fine one moment and then I'm throwing up out of nowhere." Her voice came out as a whine. Mary's eyes darted over to Fred.
"I'm busy today, Alice. I have plans."
A beat. "Such as?"
"Such as… plans. I can't do it. Sorry."
"Mary, I've covered your shifts so many times."
"Once. You did it once."
"Which is still once more than you –" A clang came from the other line. Mary pulled the phone away from their ears.
"Alice?" she asked tenderly. She placed the phone up to her ear and listened, just able to make out the distant, yet distinct, sound of vomiting.
"She's playing you," Fred said simply. "Say no."
"But I can hear –"
"May I?" He wrapped his hand over hers and gently took the phone. He held it up to his ear. "She's just making gagging noises and pouring something into the toilet. Oldest trick in the book. Hell, I probably taught her that."
"Give it back. I don't want her to know you're here."
"Why?" Fred held the phone just out of her reach, lips curving into a grin. "Embarrassed to be seen with me?"
Mary bit her lip. "Very embarrassed to be with someone who thinks someone can be seen over the phone. Hand it over. You know how she is."
"I've dealt with Alice Smith's big mouth since kindergarten. I think I'll survive."
"Fred?" came from the phone.
"Shit." Mary leaned over Fred and grabbed the phone, conveniently falling right into Fred's lap. She already felt the heat rising to her face and was glad he couldn't get a look at her. "Hey. Alice. Yeah, that sounded gross."
"Is Fred there?"
"Is Fred… what? Where?"
"Mary Taylor, is Fred fucking Andrews in your house right now?"
"Alice, come on."
"Mary."
"Geez, what's it to you?"
"Is he there alone?"
"My brothers are here."
"Oh my God, Mary. Are you crazy? I know you're not sleeping with Fred."
Mary finally pulled herself off Fred's lap and sat up straight. She pursed her lips and avoided looking at Fred. "Of course not. We were just watching a movie."
"Likely story. What are you playing at?"
"What… what're you playing at, Alice? You're not even sick."
"I am getting sicker by the moment, thinking of you with Fred."
"This is none of your business."
"Well I'm making it my business. You told me nothing was going on between you two."
"Nothing is going on between us."
Alice sighed. "I'm trying to protect you. I told you to stay away from him."
"You're going to be late for work."
Alice's voice came out as a whimper. "Come on, Mary. I'll owe you one. I really do feel like shit."
"Aren't you lactose intolerant? Maybe you ate something with dairy and you didn't realize."
Fred snatched the phone from Mary's hand. "Feel better, Al. Have fun at work." He clicked the button and ended the call. "Sorry. That conversation was going nowhere fast. You were about ten seconds away from offering to bring her crackers and ginger ale."
Mary gulped. "She'll call back."
"So don't answer."
"What if she's actually sick?"
Fred grabbed her hand and pulled her back onto his lap. "Then I guess she'll have to be careful not to puke on all those Judy Blume books she loves."
"But she's going –" He pressed his lips into hers, cutting her off. She tried to pull away and voice her thoughts. Alice has had her suspicions all summer, but now she knows for certain. What if she blabs?
What if what if what if.
But she didn't want to pull away. Mary Taylor. Mousy Mary. The Virgin Mary. Mary Mary, quite contrary. Mary didn't get to do anything fun. Mary didn't get to have cool, sexy boyfriends. Mary didn't get to skip out on work to get up to whatever debauchery other girls her age where getting up to.
The phone rang. Mary tossed it to the recliner across the room without breaking their kiss. She felt Fred's mouth curve in a smile.
She was going to have her day at last.
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"Fred?" Alice hissed, digging her nails into Mary's arm. Mary tried pulling her arm away but Alice's claws were already dug in. "Are you fucking crazy? You told me nothing was going on."
Mary glanced over her shoulder, only able to make out the silhouettes of people standing around the fire. School started in two days and the senior class always held a huge bonfire near Sweetwater River to celebrate the end of summer. "There is nothing going on."
"Bull. Shit." Alice applied a little more pressure with her nails before finally letting go. Mary resisted the urge to rub the sore spot. Growing up with two brothers, she was used to rough housing and knowing you're not supposed to let on when you're hurt.
Alice was an only child, but she was Southside. She knew exactly how to make things hurt; if not with her nails, then with her tongue.
"Fred is no good for you. He's too dumb."
"Fred is not dumb. He's… adventurous."
"Well I once watched Mr. Adventurous ride his bicycle off a dock into Sweetwater River because someone bet him like $5."
"He's charming."
"In eighth grade he drank an entire gallon of expired milk just because FP dared him too. He threw up for 20 minutes straight."
"Why do you care?"
Alice pulled a face, taken back by the question. "Why wouldn't I care?"
"Like, you've known Fred since you were kids. You and I are… whatever. Why can't you just let it be?"
"We're not friends?"
Mary rolled her eyes. "Sorry, yeah. We're friends. So you're friends with me, friends with Fred. Just then, you know, be supportive."
"Supportive?" Alice rolled the word on her tongue as if it were foreign. "Yeah, supportive. I can be supportive. Come on."
She grabbed Mary's arm again, sans nails, and pulled her through the crowd of their peers, Alice's Doc Martens splattering mud over Mary's Converses. Mary may have had a few inches and pounds on her (Alice couldn't weigh 100 pounds soak and wet), but for what she lacked in size, she made up for in strength. They stopped a few feet from a keg, where none other than Hermione Nichols was leaning against a tree, red cup in hand, telling an animated story to a group of girls. Mary turned her head away, hoping Hermione wouldn't notice her, but Alice gave her a right shove into the group, nearly knocking over Sierra Bradley.
"Watch it, Mary!"
"Mary!" Hermione exclaimed. "I missed you!" Her words were slightly slurred, no surprise due to her position near the keg. She pushed through the small crowd of girls with a grace Mary could never hope to achieve (especially after drinking ) and wrapped her in a hug. Alice may have been all skin and bones, but Hermione was all curves. Curvy, skinny, petite. Mary felt like a clumsy giant next to either of them.
She hugged Hermione back carefully. "How were the Hamptons?"
"Amazing." Hermione stretched out the word, half for dramatic effect, half a side effect of the beer. "I have the best stories."
"She was just telling us about the guy she met," Sierra chimed in. "Don't leave us hanging."
"Oh, did you meet a guy?" Alice asked. She stood just behind the group, arms folded over her chest, smirk on her face. "I call bullshit if you say he looked like Patrick Swayze and taught you how to dance."
Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled Mary closer so they could link arms. She always got clingy when she was drinking. Mary focused her eyes down on Hermione's perfectly white Nikes that made her own sneakers look ancient.
"For your information, he looked more like Christian Slater and he taught me how to do a lot more than dance."
That earned a burst a giggles from the rest of the crowd, but Mary just felt her mouth go dry.
"How scandalous," Alice said with false enthusiasm. She was glad Hermione was too tipsy to pick up on the sarcasm. Last thing she wanted was to break up a fight between them. "But what about poor Fred?"
Hermione paused her cup an inch from her mouth. "Poor Fred?"
"Ummhmm. I mean, aren't you two like an item now? After your very public display of affection at your last party? You know, the one right when school let out?"
"Oh, you mean that party where I caught a certain couple who shall remain nameless in a compromising position in my own bedroom?"
Alice let out a laugh, shame absent from her face. The entire school already had already heard that story by the end of that night. "Yeah, that party."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Look, I knew I was going away all summer. Fred knew I was going away all summer. What happened at that party was merely," she waved her free arm and half her beer spilled into the dirt, "what could be. I told Fred we would pause whatever we had until I came back."
"So summer rendezvous with the dance instructor –"
"He was not a dance instructor." Hermione sipped her beer and glanced in the cup, seemingly surprised it was nearly empty. "He was a swim coach." This earned another round of giggles from the crowd.
Mary hated it, this thing they did. Alice and Hermione were both pretty, popular. Both domineering and headstrong. They drowned out the rest of the world when they were in each other's presence.
Shame. Because if the two took a single minute to be nice to one another, they could probably be best friends.
"Swim coach, whatever. Your life is a Harlequin romance waiting to happen. So Fred was just okay with you spending your whole summer with some other guy?"
"Oh please. It's not like Freddy is Mr. Innocent. I told him to have fun this summer too, and I'm sure he did." Hermione nudged Mary in the side and smiled up at her. "Right Mare?" Mary's face flushed, undetectable under the darkness of night, as Hermione turned her attention back to Alice. "So what'd you do this summer, Pretty Woman?"
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.
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"You have a weakness for pretty people, Mary," her mother had first told her when she was in 7th grade. "It's a curse really."
Hermione Nichols had just left their house. Mary had just finished her first week at Riverdale Junior High and Hermione had been her assigned buddy for the week.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Her mother looked up from the box she was looking through, trying to find a potato peeler. They had moved into their new home the past weekend and had hardly unpacked yet.
"It just means that… sometimes we like being around certain people because of the aura that surrounds them. They make us feel good about ourselves. But that doesn't always mean their good people. I don't like the way that girl talked to you. Too bossy. Now take a peek though those boxes in the corner."
Mary dragged her feet on the ground, earning a click of the teeth from her mother. The boxes were clearly labeled Linens, but Mary started opening them anyway.
"I like Hermione, Mom. She's been really great to me this week. She's introduced me to everyone, she lets me sit with her at lunch…"
"I'm sorry. She lets you sit with her?"
"She's really popular. A lot of people would love to sit with her."
"Oh Mary," her mom sighed, not bothering to look up this time. "You'll learn."
Mary scowled and dug through old bedsheets, knowing fighting with her mom, or finding a potato peeler in this box, were in vain.
To prove her mother wrong, she invited Alice Smith over a few weeks later to work on their science project together. Alice wore torn up jeans and an oversized Van Halen t-shirt knotted up in the front. Mary hadn't lived in town long enough to differentiate what it really meant to be Southside, but Hermione had hissed in her ear enough that Alice was from "the wrong side of the tracks" and to not get too friendly with her.
Her mother gave scruffy little Alice a disapproving smile as they sat at the kitchen table making a solar system out of clay.
"There's a middle ground, you know," her mother said after Alice's father picked her up in a beat up truck. "Being from the bad part of town doesn't always humble people."
"So you don't like Alice either?"
Her mother clicked her teeth. "Sweetheart, you're such a strong, smart, independent girl. You should be bossing those girls around. Not the other way."
"So what's wrong with Alice?"
"Well she's not very well kept, now is she?"
For her 14th birthday, the beginning of freshman year, she was allowed to have a boy/girl party in her basement. No more than fifteen people and her parents would be checking in frequently. Fred Andrews said he'd help her make her the ultimate playlist ("Hal has a huge cassette collection, he'll let you borrow whatever you want.") so she invited him over the Thursday before her party. They sat on the back porch, the days still warm in early September, with a spiral notebook between them.
Fred was unequivocally attractive, but he had yet to master the art of a hair brushing or sock matching. He always had an air about him like he had woken up too late for school and just thrown on whatever clothes were closest to his bed. Every time his hand brushed hers as he excitedly thought of a new song, she felt her stomach drop, like she was riding down the peak of a rollercoaster.
She had never liked rollercoasters until now.
"So no Metallica?" she asked, pointing her pen as his shirt.
"Huh?" Fred pulled his shirt away from his body and seemed genuinely surprised at what he was wearing. "Oh man, I think this is FP's shirt. He slept over last weekend and must have left it."
Mary let out a giggle that sounded unnatural coming out of her mouth. Fred didn't seem to notice. "Silly, you've been wearing it all day."
"Uh, guys don't pay attention to stuff like clothes."
She was sure most guys could at least tell you what shirt they had been wearing the entire day. Alice often called Fred a "dumb little puppy," and while Mary was sure no one appreciated the dumb comment, she couldn't deny that he really was puppy like. On their walk to her house after school, as he pushed his bike between the two of them, she had watched him trip over his own feet no less than four times. He had been talking about trying out for JV football since the beginning of the year, but she wondered how he'd possibly make the cut when he could hardly walk in a straight line.
When her parents came home from work, Fred greeted them with a grin and shook both their hands excitedly. She watched as he rode down their driveway on his bike, trying to hide the smile just peeking out of her lips. Her mother placed a hand on Mary's shoulder and said, "There you go, sweetheart. That's a happy medium."
She turned on her mother quicker than she intended. "Fred's a boy, Mom."
"But he seems like he'd be a good friend. You're allowed to have boys as friends."
"And I'm allowed to have girls as friends too. Even if you don't like them."
Her mom gave her a lopsided smile. "Of course you are."
.
.
.
Mary excused herself from the girls without responding to Hermione's comment.
She knows. She knows, she knows, she knows.
"Mary, wait up!" she heard Alice call from behind her. Mary kept up her pace. She didn't need to see the look of elation on the blonde girl's face. She needed to go home. "Mary! I know you can hear me!"
"What?" Mary stopped in her tracks and turned on the girl. Blinking in surprise, Alice took a step back. "You knew, didn't you? But instead of just saying something, you had to play this game and let me look like an idiot."
"I let you?" Alice exclaimed, her voice rising. "I told you to stay away from Fred."
Mary sighed. A few people were already looking at them. "You could have just told me. Told me they weren't together."
"What good would that have done? Would it have stopped you?"
"I… I need to go."
Mary turned on her heel as Alice yelled, loud enough for the whole senior class to hear, "Grow some balls, Mary! Stand up for yourself for once!"
A series of snickers and giggles followed her. She knew they weren't laughing at her, per say. Alice was crass, unafraid to speak her mind, and people loved her for it. Mary just wished she had a little more tact.
She knew she could go confront Fred now, ask him why he never told her he was a free man, so to speak. They could have spent their summer sharing milkshakes at Pops and holding hands in the Bijou. Instead, they met in a locked basement where no one would ever see them together. Sure, they'd hung out a few times, but always in groups, FP or someone of the like tailing them. But confronting Fred now, when she was angry and vulnerable and just a little light headed from the single beer she'd drank too fast before Alice caught her, would get her nowhere. She'd just walk home and call him tomorrow. Or just see him in school on Monday.
A hand reached out and grabbed her arm, spinning her around and pulling her into one-armed hug. "Where are you running off to, Strawberry Shortcake? The night is young."
Mary shoved FP Jones off of her, hardly in the mood for his antics. He raised his hands in self-defense, one holding a beer, the other a cigarette.
"I'm just not in a party mood tonight."
He waved his finger at her, leaving a trail of smoke near her face. "Social obligation. You are a cheerleader after all."
"Who cares? And why are you smoking? Cigarettes are bad for you."
"But if I don't smoke while I'm drinking, I'll just have to put another beer in my free hand. You trying to turn me into a drunk like your boy Freddy over there?"
He pointed to her left, where, sure enough, Fred was holding a red cup in either hand, taking turns sipping from either. She was sure FP had made the same joke to him earlier and Fred was merely going along with the gag.
"Fred is not my boy, thanks."
FP sipped his beer, not breaking eye contract with her. "Why did Alice just tell you to grow some balls?"
"Does Alice ever have a reason to do anything? Now if you don't mind, I need to get home."
"Hey." FP stomped out his cigarette and put his now free hand on Mary's shoulder. "What's happening? What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Mary said, knowing her voice was coming out more aggressive than she intended. FP raised an eyebrow and squeezed her shoulder. "Fred. Fred is what's wrong."
"There's tons wrong with Fred. You have to be more specific."
Mary pursed her lips, holding in a grin. She both hated and loved the fact that FP could always make her laugh. "Hermione and him agreed to have a break this summer. But I'm not… not good enough to be seen in public with or something? And you probably know all this, right?"
FP reached into his pocket and pulled out his back of cigarettes, breaking his gaze. "I might have known."
"I know your loyalties are always going to fall to Fred before me –"
"That is not true."
"– but you could have saved me a little face if you just told me –"
"Mary." FP flicked his lighter and inhaled. "You think I didn't talk to him? You think I didn't say something? Fred doesn't need some stuck up, wannabe rich girl like Hermione. She's going to bleed him dry and leave him hanging. I was hoping you'd be a… a good influence. He'd see what a good thing he has with you and…" He rolled his hand suggestively, trailing more smoke in her face.
"And what? Drop Hermione? News flash. Guys like Fred don't get bored of girls like her. Guys like Fred keep girls like me on the backburner until they find something better."
"Fred is not a bad guy. You know that."
"He's your best friend, you need to say that."
"Fred is wayward and misled. He's kind of an idiot, in case you never noticed."
"Harsh dude. I'm right here."
Mary jumped at the voice behind her. Fred grinned at her and held out one of his cups. "Beer? I might have taken a few sips but it's still mostly full."
One deep inhale, one deep exhale.
"No thank you, Fred," Mary replied, just able to control her voice. She stared at the cup but made no reach for it. "I need to get going."
He nudged the cup towards her and she shook her head. "Going where? Alice just told me you were looking for me."
"Trust me, I wasn't." She allowed her eyes to dart over to where Fred was standing a few minutes ago. She could just make out Alice's long, wavy hair in the distance.
Fred finally withdrew his extra beer and allowed his eyes to wander upwards. "Is this about Hermione?"
One deep inhale, one deep exhale.
"This isn't the time or place to talk."
"You want to come back to the van? We could talk there."
"We got the van up and running this morning, Mare," FP chimed in. While grateful for his attempt to alleviate the tension, Mary wasn't having it. "Isn't that awesome?"
"Perhaps," Mary said slowly, "when you and Hermione make your relationship official again, you can go christen your van with her." She patted Fred on the shoulder. "Not with me."
"Mary." Fred's voice came out low. "Come on. We had such a great summer. While spoil it?"
Mary's eyes narrowed. "Spoil it? I went my whole summer thinking we were doing something wrong. That I was doing something wrong. I thought you had a girlfriend and I was… we were doing… whatever. But no. It turns out we could have been out, open. But you didn't want that. You only wanted me around when you were bored."
"Mary, you know none of that's true." He made a move to put his arm around her, cup still in hand, but she was too fast and stepped back. He dropped the cup in the dirt. "Let's just go somewhere private and –"
"Private huh? So once again, no one will see us together? Here's what we can talk about. If I put out this summer, would it have been the same? Or are you disappointed you invested so much time in me and didn't go all the way?"
Fred bit his lip. "You're making me feel like a real asshole, Mary." FP snorted into his cup at Fred's statement. "Back me up, dude."
"Back you up?" FP lowered his cup and grinned. "I love you, man. But you sound do sound like an asshole right now."
"Oh, come on. Don't act like you –"
Mary took the distraction and walked into the woods, knowing if she walked quick enough it'd only take her fifteen minutes to get home.
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.
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"Alice feels really shitty, for what it's worth," Hal Cooper assured her on the first day of school. He caught up with her as they walked out of their student council meeting. "She wishes she had just told you."
"Right," Mary nodded, knowing Alice didn't have a sympathetic bone in her body. "So why didn't you tell me?"
Hal's mouth opened and closed before answering. "I didn't think it was my place."
"Of course. It wasn't your place. Or Alice's. Or anyone's, right? But now the whole school knows I spent my summer as Fred's side girl and I just have to live with it."
"Come on, Mary," Hal dropped his voice as Sierra, the student council president, walked past them. "No one thinks any less of you."
"I think less of me."
"Oh please," Alice slid up beside Hal and he slid his arm around her waist. Mary gulped at the action, knowing it was silly to get jealous of a simple display of affection between another couple. "You need to rid yourself of all that shame. It's unhealthy."
"What's unhealthy?" a familiar voice came from behind. Mary suppressed a groan. "Your relationship? You know it's totally normal to have actual friends outside of each other, right?"
Alice's nostrils flared. "Thanks for the tip, Hermione, but we have plenty of friends. In fact, we're talking to one right now. And if you want to get on the subject of unhealthy, I'm sure binging and purging those two packs of Twinkies you had for lunch falls under the category too."
Hermione bounced up beside Mary, Fred awkwardly following in her trail. Fred's varsity jacket was thrown over Hermione's shoulders, even though the August weather was well into the 80s still.
"Speak for yourself," Hermione proclaimed, hands on hips. "I heard you puking in the girls room before third period."
"I've been sick."
"Likely story."
"Please, I wish I could gain weight like you –"
Mary felt a soft tug on her vest. Fred's head jutted to the empty classroom she'd just left. She followed him in, Hal seeming the only one of the crowd who noticed them go.
Fred leaned against a desk and looked her in the eyes. "I'm sorry, Mary. I am so, so sorry for hurting you."
Mary nodded, but kept her mouth shut.
"I honestly didn't go over your house every week with any intentions. I didn't think anything would happen between us. And I kept telling myself to not let it happen again, but every fucking week it would. I do like you, Mary. I like being around you, I like how easy everything is with you."
"But?"
"But I'm with Hermione. And as confusing as it is, I like her too."
"Hermione and I are such different people."
"And that's what makes it so confusing. I like you both for totally different reasons."
"You like her because of the sex?"
Fred's eyes widened as her bluntness. "No. And like you asked me the other day, you putting out or whatever would have had no effect on what happened between us. I liked what we had, but I kind of thought we both just wanted to have some fun."
"I did. I did want to have some fun. And I actually don't regret what happened."
He nodded. "Me neither. And I'm sorry people know. I swear, I didn't say anything to Hermione. She just knew. I just want us to be friends again."
"I want that too, Fred."
"Come on. Let's get back out there before Hal has to stop a cat fight between those two."
Fred's hand fell over Mary's as she turned the door handle. "Hey. If things don't work out between Hermione and I…" He trailed off, leaving the statement open. Mary burst into laughter and placed her hand gently on Fred's cheek.
"Freddy, do you think I'm so pathetic that I'd just wait around for Hermione to dump you? Oh please."
She walked out into the hallway, triumph written all over her face. When she peeked at Fred as he shut the door behind them, his expression was somewhere between bemused and impressed.
"I'm just saying, you should totally try out for the River Vixens this afternoon," Hermione was saying. Hal's hands had migrated to either of Alice's shoulders and he looked like he was preparing to pull her back at any moment. "It's going to be mostly freshman and sophomores, but now that Penny's graduated, you may actually stand a chance. I hear the new cheer captain is very forgiving."
Alice scowled. "You're the new cheer captain."
"So I am." Hermione smirked and flipped her hair behind her shoulders. "So you'll be there?"
"You couldn't pay me to be a River Vixen. Besides, you know I'm on varsity track."
Hermione snorted. "Track? Who gives a shit about track?"
"Well, we'll see who's laughing when I get a scholarship and you're stuck working at your dad's store the rest of your life."
"Hey," Mary interrupted. Both girls jumped, seemingly forgetting she was there. "Don't we need to set up the gym for tryouts?"
Hermione looked her up and down and nodded. "Of course. Follow me, fellow Vixen." She turned back to Alice and Hal. "Sorry to steal your only friend from you two, but we have important matters to attend to. Come on, Fred. You can escort us." She linked her arm through Fred's and nodded towards Mary. He linked his other arm through hers. ("Ugh, and she has the nerve to call us unhealthy?" Alice muttered in the distance.)
Mary still wasn't sure exactly what she wanted, but at least senior year was bound to be interesting.