I'm discovering how confusing it is writing two stories at once! Thank you to all who reviewed and alerted, it means a lot. Bee
They spent the first part of the thirty minute journey in silence, Greg finally turning the radio on in an effort to ease the tension. Scott sat sullenly in the back wondering why his recent behaviour was so out of character. Why had he snapped like that? Jay had been out of line, but Scott had heard worse and walked away without a second thought. Not that he was a coward, far from it. He'd been in plenty of fights but he'd rarely thrown the first punch and he'd never come so close to hitting someone without believing he'd be able to stop. He wondered if Jay knew how lucky he'd been. It wasn't so much the comment about Virgil's kidnapping, it was the fact that he'd inadvertently picked up on all the anxieties Scott had been experiencing. How had he even known so much about the Tracys? He was a newcomer to the town, after all. Was Scott's loyalty to his family a common topic of conversation? Worse still, was it seen as a joke? Other boys his age didn't seem to care so much about their kid brothers. Sure they loved them - well, okay, tolerated them in some cases - but they didn't take such a hands-on role as Scott. Then again, they hadn't lost their mothers. He buried his face in his hands for a moment, wishing he could forget all about it, just for a while.
He suddenly became aware the car had stopped. Greg had turned round to look at him, clearly worried that he might have ruined Scott's evening.
"You okay?" he asked. "Look, I'm sorry about Jay. I shouldn't have invited him."
"I'm alright," Scott told him. "It wasn't your fault." After all, Jay had tagged along with them before and Scott had managed to put up with him. Greg couldn't have realised how frustrated he'd been feeling all day - not wanting to put a damper on the party mood, Scott hadn't confided in his friends. He wondered how they'd react if he told them he was fed up of his golden existence. Somehow he didn't think they'd understand. Rick's family had lost everything when their house had burned down last year and Isaac's father had recently been diagnosed with leukaemia. He doubted they'd have a whole lot of sympathy for his plight, however much they might express concern for his current depression. Scott knew he didn't have it badly, not really. He just needed a break from his usual routine, he decided. Not for ever - he wasn't going to turn his back on everything he valued - but just for one night. Maybe he needed to go wild for a while, relieve the stress and pick up the reins again tomorrow.
"It's fine," he said, and this time he sounded like he meant it. "Forget it, Greg. Tonight I'm not going to worry about Jay or anyone else. I want to have some fun."
"You're sure?" Greg hesitated before starting the engine.
"I'm sure." Scott leant forward and turned up the volume on the radio as Greg set off. Within minutes the four friends were singing along enthusiastically. Scott might have forced himself to look as though he was enjoying himself at first, but the closer they got to their destination the more genuine his smile became until he was actually feeling pretty good.
When they finally arrived, there was a last-minute panic over the ID cards, Isaac having heard that the bouncers on the door of The Dungeon were pretty thorough.
"Rick's the problem," he said. "He barely looks eighteen, let alone twenty-one."
Rick looked anxious for a minute. "You don't think they'll let me in? They can't fault the ID."
"You'll be fine," Greg told him. "Just be ready for any questions they ask you if they want you to prove your age."
"Like what?"
"Um... who was President in the year you were born?"
Rick looked at him blankly. Scott laughed, feeling more relaxed than he had all day, supplying the answer and commenting that poor Rick probably didn't know who was President today, let alone twenty-one years ago.
"When were you born?" Isaac asked.
"I know this," Rick announced. "2042!"
"2042?" Scott cuffed him lightly across the head. "That makes you fifteen. It's 2036, you idiot. You add three years to your age, not the year you were born."
"Math never was his strong point," Isaac pointed out as Rick sulkily tried to repair the damage Scott had done to his carefully styled hair."
"Yeah, well it's going to need to be tonight. Rick? 2036, got it? You mess this up and we're leaving you outside."
"You wouldn't."
"Sure we would," Isaac told him.
"Okay, you probably would. Scott wouldn't ditch me, though."
Scott flung an arm around his shoulders. "Rick, tonight - just tonight, mind - I would. So get it right, huh?"
Rick looked at Scott for a moment, clearly unsure whether to believe him. Something about his friend's expression decided him because he shot him a quizzical look before breaking into a smile.
"You would, wouldn't you? Who'd have thought it? Scott Tracy forgetting his friends and looking after number one."
"And about time too," Greg announced, noticing Scott's expression change to one of uncertainty. "Come on, guys, The Dungeon awaits."
It took them a while to find a parking space, then they had to trek a couple of blocks to the club. It wasn't the warmest of nights and a few stray raindrops hit them as they walked along.
"We'll be inside in a minute," Greg promised, but as they turned a corner and saw the line of people waiting to get in, it became clear that wasn't exactly true. They had to queue for a good ten minutes, though since the rain held off this wasn't too much of a hardship since it allowed them to get talking to a group of girls who stood in front of them. Scott and his friends couldn't help the growing feeling of excitement as they got nearer. The dull throb of a bass guitar was evident and, every time the doors opened to let someone in or out, the whole band could be heard, the noise deafening even from this distance.
Just before they got to the front of the queue, the doors were flung open and a couple of bouncers manhandled an apparently drunk man out of the club. He clearly objected to this, trying to push the bouncers away in order to get back inside. The feeble punch he threw at one of them might not have had any impact, but the blow he received in return certainly did and he lay stunned on the ground for a moment before staggering to his feet, wiping a hand across his nose and staring at the blood which was smeared across his fingers. Only then did he admit defeat and slink away. The bouncers watched him go before turning to those queuing and eyeing them suspiciously for a moment before allowing a few more people inside.
"Did you see that?" Greg's eyes had lit up in excitement. "Isn't this great?"
"Yeah," Scott agreed, forcing himself to ignore the little voice that was asking him what he thought he was doing in a place like this, where trouble was unlikely to be far away - especially after all the disasters the day had brought so far. But then they reached the door and he slipped his hand into his pocket to reach for his ID card. Last chance to back out, he thought to himself, and waited for the little voice to give him all the reasons why he should. To his surprise it was silent. He couldn't help feeling a sense of exhilaration at the thought that for once he wasn't going to be careful, sensible... boring, he thought. Yes, that was the word he was looking for. But not tonight. Tonight Scott Tracy was going to rebel - and he was going to enjoy it.
After all the fuss over the ID's they were waved through without question. Rick couldn't help expressing his disappointment, having been muttering "2036" under his breath for the last ten minutes, but fortunately his words were lost in the noise from the band.
They took a moment to take in the scene. The people they knew who'd been here before hadn't been exaggerating. The place was wild, the dance floor packed and the queue for the bar some eight people deep.
Drinks finally in hand, they found a place to stand, taking photos of each other on their phones, needing proof of their success in getting in to show to everyone back at school. Five minutes later they'd got talking to some more girls and Scott had forgotten all about Brandon, Jay and all the other things which had been worrying him that day.
An hour later and Scott felt better than he had since he'd turned eighteen. Greg's prediction had been accurate and he'd met plenty of girls. None of them knew who he was - the name 'Tracy' wasn't mentioned, a simple, "Hi, I'm Scott," along with a dazzling smile, all that was needed to get the chosen girl's attention. After several drinks Scott was finally deciding that the night hadn't been completely wasted after all. He just needed to find the right girl and then everything would be perfect. Sure, he'd met plenty of pretty girls so far, but they all seemed to lack what he was looking for. He wasn't even sure he knew what that was; just that he'd know it when he found it.
Isaac certainly seemed to have found what he was looking for and was on the dance floor with a girl he'd latched onto within minutes of arriving. Scott watched them for a few moments then let his eyes roam around the room.
It wasn't long before he spotted her. If he'd wanted something different then the girl at the bar was it. For a start she was older than him - mid-twenties to be sure, no fake ID for her. Then there was the way she was dressed. The Dungeon wasn't a dressy place by any means and the ripped jeans and tee shirt were fairly standard wear, but the tee shirt bore an image of some picture by one of Virgil's favourite artists. Scott had never been able to see what his brother found so appealing about the painter - he was racking his brains trying to think of the man's name - but for the first time he could see the attraction. Unless it was the way the girl filled out the tee shirt... Maybe that was it.
He caught her eye and smiled, hoping she liked younger men. When she smiled back he took it as an invitation, grabbed his drink and with a muttered, "See you later," to his friends, made his way over to her.
Fifteen minutes later and Scott finally felt as though the trip had been worthwhile. They'd talked for a while - she worked in a gallery in the town and he'd impressed her with his knowledge of art - Thanks, Virg, he thought, grateful for all the times his brother had forced him to listen as he raved over some obscure artist or other, showing him images he could often make little sense of until his brother explained them to him. So Jay had laughed at his devotion to his family? He wouldn't be laughing if he could see him now.
Marianne seemed as taken with him as he was with her. She was older than him of course but he'd claimed his age as twenty-two, just two years below hers, and she hadn't had a problem with that. Talking had led to dancing and now, as they moved closer on the dance floor, Scott was wondering what his next step should be. He didn't need to worry however, as Marianne took his hand and led him over to a door marked Staff Only.
"I used to work here," she told him. "Want to go somewhere more private?"
Scott certainly did. But just as they were about to go, Greg appeared from nowhere, grabbing Scott's arm and pulling him back.
"What?" Scott snapped, shrugging him off. It wasn't like his friend to be so prudish. He'd normally be the one disappearing with some girl he'd just met.
"Rick's sick." Greg pointed across to a wall where a greenish-looking Rick was propped up, eyes half-closed and chin lolling against his chest.
Scott groaned. "How much has he had?"
"Too much. Look, I'm going to take him home. I'll come back for you later."
Scott looked back to where an amused Marianne stood beside the door, one hand on the handle. Then he looked at Greg, knowing his friend faced an extra hour of driving and wondering if he should offer to go with him. Usually he would, and Greg knew it, but it was his birthday, for heaven's sake. It had been a nightmare of a day and he was just about to have a little fun. All day he'd resented the responsibilities his life threw at him. His friends had encouraged him to forget it all for a while, to only think about himself. So...
"You sure you don't mind?"
If Greg was surprised he hid it well. There was just the faintest of hesitations before he shook his head. "Call it a birthday present. I can see why you don't want to leave." He smiled at Marianne who rolled her eyes before looking at Scott again, tapping her fingers impatiently on the door handle.
"Any other time I would. But..."
Greg clapped him on the back. "Have fun," he said. "If you see Isaac tell him what's happened."
"Where is he?"
"With that girl somewhere. You lot owe me another night out. And one of you can drive."
"You got it." Scott would be quite happy to come back here. All thoughts of destroying the ID's had gone. "Drive safely."
"I will. See you later."
Scott watched as Greg took hold of an unsteady Rick and steered him towards the door. A soft hand on his shoulder startled him and he smiled as Marianne whispered something in his ear.
"It's your birthday?" she asked as she opened the door.
"Yeah."
"Well, we'd better do something to celebrate..."
And so it was that five minutes later they were locked in a store room with Scott thinking that this might be one of the best nights of his life after all. He'd never done anything like this before - all the girls he'd been with had been actual girlfriends. There had been movies and dinners, interviews with strict fathers and a lot of hesitant fumbling before anything serious happened - but then Marianne wasn't the usual sort of girl he went for.
But once again Scott's luck was out. Things were just getting interesting when the pounding of the music stopped all of a sudden and muffled shouts could be heard.
Scott and Marianne broke apart for a moment.
"What's going on?" Scott asked, more than a little breathlessly.
Marianne listened for a minute before picking up where she'd left off. "Probably another raid. Happens from time to time. Don't worry, they don't usually come down here."
Scott thought about this for a moment before pushing her hands away and reaching for his shirt. "They're looking for me!"
"What? Why would they be looking for you?" Marianne prised his hands away from his buttons.
Scott debated whether to go through the whole Brandon and/or Jay wanted to get back at me and this is how they've done it scenario before deciding they didn't have time.
"I got in on a fake ID. If the police find it I'm in trouble. Not just me, but my brothers, too."
This time Marianne let go of him. "Fake ID? How old are you really?"
Scott paused in his struggle to get his shirt back on. "Eighteen." He smiled nervously.
"Eighteen? And today's your birthday?"
He nodded, finishing the buttons, not noticing he'd got them lined up wrongly.
Marianne shook her head. "You're just a kid."
"Hey!" Despite the need to move quickly, Scott couldn't let that particular slight go unchallenged. "I've been with plenty of girls. And I didn't hear you complaining about anything."
"Oh, honey, you're not the only one lying about their age."
"You too? How old are you?"
She looked as though she didn't want to answer before shrugging. "Twenty-eight."
"Oh."
They looked at each other and laughed. But the smile was soon wiped from Scott's face as he heard heavy footsteps coming closer.
"Come on," Marianne called. She'd moved across to a small window. She had to stand on a box to reach it but she got it open and poked her head out. "You can get out here. If they don't actually catch you inside they can't do anything."
"You're wonderful," Scott told her. "I wish we'd had a bit longer."
Marianne sighed. "Just as well we didn't. Get yourself out of here."
It was a tight squeeze but Scott managed to get through the window. His shirt caught on a stray nail but he forced his way through, ignoring the ripping sound as he did so. A hundred dollar shirt ruined, he thought. Looked like his bad birthday luck was back with a vengeance. Not that it was his birthday anymore. As he glanced at his watch he saw it was past midnight.
He found himself in an alleyway where all the trash from the club was stored. Not the most salubrious of surroundings, but he didn't plan on staying there any length of time. One end of the alley was blocked by a tall, locked gate, but the other end was clear and he headed that way, only to be forced to dive behind a dumpster as a police car pulled up at the end. Now he was stuck.
Scott was forced to burrow behind a pile of trash bags as a policeman wandered down the alley. He must have done a good enough job of hiding himself, or else the man just didn't have his heart in it, because a minute or so later the policeman was back in his car. He didn't drive off, however, clearly having been told to guard the back of the club. Scott cursed him as he shifted to try to get comfortable, trying not to think about what might be in the bags. The smell was bad enough. His only comfort was that they at least provided some warmth and a little shelter from the rain which had begun to fall.
It took twenty minutes for the police car to drive off. Scott hesitated, but then when music could once again be heard pounding from the club, he dragged himself out into the alley and tried to tidy himself up a bit. He was damp and dirty and the smell of the trash bags was definitely going to linger. He got his shirt buttoned up properly, but it was damaged beyond repair. Not even Grandma could do anything with the tear across the front, he thought.
He wondered where Isaac was. If he'd been caught then John and Virgil might still be in trouble. It was then that his phone began to ring. Pulling it out of his pocket, wishing he'd got Marianne's number just in case she changed her mind about him, he was relieved to see Isaac's name flash up. Unless he was choosing Scott to make his one phone call to, chances were he hadn't been arrested.
"Where are you?" Isaac asked as soon as Scott answered.
"Outside," Scott said. "Where are you?"
"Looking for you. I thought you'd gone off with some girl."
"Yeah, well the raid put a stop to all that. What happened? Were they looking for us? If Brandon-"
"What's Brandon got to do with it?"
"I thought they were checking ID's."
"No, it was a drugs bust. Honestly, Scott, it was the coolest thing I've ever seen. They jumped on this guy, wrestled him to the floor..."
"So they weren't interested in anyone's ID?"
"No. Look, are you coming back in?"
Scott considered this for a minute. Taking a look down at himself he decided enough was enough. "No. As soon as Greg's back I'm going home."
"Where is Greg anyway? I haven't seen him or Rick."
Scott explained.
"Trust Rick. Look, I'm going back to Carlie's tonight. Her parents are away for the weekend. Why don't we go to that pizza place we saw on the way here? You can tell Greg where to meet you and we'll wait with you until he gets there."
"Okay." Scott couldn't see any problem. Something had to go right tonight and what harm could a pizza do anyone? He rounded the corner of the building to see Isaac standing there, a tall, blonde girl wrapped around him. At least someone was going to have a good time tonight, he thought, wondering why it couldn't be him. The fresh air had sobered him up and suddenly he felt very tired. Right now, all he wanted was his own bed and one of Grandma's famous hot chocolates with extra marshmallows and cream.
So much for Scott Tracy the rebel, he thought to himself.