Disclaimer: That '70s Show copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

CHAPTER 2
THREADING THE NEEDLE

After lunch at The Hub, Donna dragged Jackie into a convenience store. Plastic skeleton hands dangled from magazine racks, and the place smelled like cigar smoke. Cheap cigar smoke. It was bitter and left a sour taste on Jackie's tongue, unlike the Montecristos her dad used to smoke.

She covered her nose while moving past the tobacco counter. The stink was unpleasant, but her decision ten minutes ago had her on edge. She'd agreed on the contest's full rules, putting her palm on her friends' pile of hands. The move sealed her fate, at least for the next few days.

Making love with Steven was out. So was taking care of herself sexually. She liked the prospect of winning a hundred dollars. But holding out longer than Steven was more important. It would gain her a much-needed advantage.

Steven's pained face flashed behind her eyes, and she froze in the candy aisle. She didn't need to manipulate Steven, not anymore. Her bad choices, his feelings of betrayal—they sent tiny shocks through her system. Before that night in Chicago, in the basement, she hadn't apologized for running away. Within the span of two days, she'd cut out his heart three times: the ultimatum, not waiting to hear his answer, and then Michael.

Yet Steven still took her back.

"'Cause we both get stupid when we're freaked out," he'd said. In her Chicago motel room, the night beamed darkly through the window. The bed pressed sharply against her calves, but his hands were tender as they cupped her face. "You freak out 'cause you think I don't care or, uh ... love ..."

He laughed over the word quietly, as if he were embarrassed by its existence in his mouth. She imagined taking a chisel to his voice, cutting the precious sentiment free of his defenses until his laughter faded into sadness.

"But I freak out 'cause I do love you, okay?" he said. "Too damn much."

"Steven..." Her chest swelled with warmth, but she said nothing more, afraid of jinxing the moment.

"And you forgave me for the nurse," he said, thumbs stroking her ears, "so this'll balance it out."

He kissed her then, longer and more deeply than he had in months, and they made love where she'd almost had sex with Michael. They'd found each other again on that lumpy bed, after wandering too many back roads slicked over with their mistakes.

This contest couldn't be about power. She and Steven were finally even, and she had to keep it that way. Just like the convenience store maintained its profit margin by pairing substandard products with inflated prices.

She left the candy aisle for the magazine racks and flipped through a Cosmo. Through the years, she'd read many articles on "How to Please Your Man" and "How to Get Your Man to Please You," but she never found any on what to do "If Your Man Catches You with Your Ex".

A witch cackled at her from a shelf of notebooks, and her shoulders jumped. The stupid crone had startled her. Its price tag read, $9.95, but no one in her right mind would pay ten dollars that piece of ugly—except, maybe, Donna's dad. He had a bunch of tacky, over-priced crap in his attic.

She placed the Cosmo back on the rack. She hadn't spotted any articles about abstinence contests, either. All she had was the witch's cackle, mocking her. She considered smacking the doll off its shelf and stomping on it, but then she'd be out ten dollars.

A few aisles down, Donna's head peeked above a high shelf. That was the dirty magazine section, and Jackie hesitantly met her there. A Playboy lay open in Donna's hands. It was supposedly the classiest of dirty magazines, but exploiting women was never classy. Donna always argued that point of view, but she seemed to have forgotten it now.

"What are you doing?" Jackie said.

"Getting ammunition."

"Why?"

"You really think I want this contest to last longer than it has to?"

Jackie glanced at the Playboy. A pair of bare legs were spread wide on the current page. "So you're gonna cheat," she said. "Oh, Donna, you've made me so proud!"

"No, I'm not going to cheat." Donna stuffed the magazine under her arm, and Jackie followed her to the checkout counter. "There's nothing in the rules against laying bait. Eric and I are going back to U.W. tomorrow. A whole week of classes is gonna kill me without any … you know."

"And looking at porn is gonna help you with that, how?"

"As I said, I'm laying bait."

"Oh, yes. This is very good bait," the cashier said. He rung up the Playboy and put it in a discreet paper bag.

Outside, the October air was cold and crisp. Jackie's thin cashmere sweater gave little protection, but she was in no rush. The moment she got back to the Formans', she'd want to sweep her lips over Steven's warm neck until he groaned with lust, and his fingers dug into her hair with ravenous desire, and he brought his mouth over hers in a—

"Jackie?" Donna nudged her shoulder. "You wanna help me or not?"

"With what?"

Donna's shoulders slumped, as if she'd already explained three times. "I'm gonna slip Miss October into Eric's comics and Hyde's Rolling Stone. Those horny dinks'll be out in a second when they see these degrading images."

A derisive laugh choked Jackie's throat, but she held her head high. "That may work on your disgusting boyfriend, but Steven doesn't find porn stars attractive."

"Uh-huh … and he didn't say Brooke was hot, either."

"Oh!" Jackie's muscles tensed, and she pinched Donna's arm.

Donna slapped Jackie off her. "Stop it!"

Jackie sped up her pace, hair whipping in the wind. The sidewalk stretched before her like a gray thread, endlessly searching for a needle's eye. If Eric, Michael, or Fez folded from Donna's cheating, it would be inconsequential. But Jackie and Steven had to be partners in this contest. Because winning separately could do damage their relationship couldn't bare.