Three: Breaking Down

Pale light filtered into the room, belying the sound of fresh sleet plopping against the windowpane. Jackie's eyes opened slowly, her lashes glued together with residual mascara. Her knees drifted up to her belly, and she recoiled from the taste of wine haunting at the back of her throat. Memories of the night before hit her like a brick wall, embarrassment playing second fiddle to her lingering dreams. Once again, she had let her emotions take the best of her. She was one step closer to becoming Pamela Burkhart.

Groaning, she pushed a lock of hair out of her face. Her fingers gripped her forehead, briefly alleviating the pounding headache pulsing at her temples. Black streaks of mascara and lipstick stained the pale pink pillowcase. Jackie scowled, flipping the pillow over. She rolled onto her back, licking her chapped lips. Water. She desperately wanted water.

Donna and Keith's bedroom door was closed tight, the house dim, as Jackie moved as quietly as a mouse out into the living room. She sighed again, pushing her hair back behind her ears. Grabbing a clean glass from the dish rack, Jackie filled it with tap water, gulping down one glass before refilling it.

Padding down the carpeted hallway, Jackie made a quick stop to her room, gabbing her toiletries bag. She darted across the hall to the small green-tiled bathroom. Setting her water glass and toiletries down, Jackie pondered her reflection. Quirking her brow, she spun on her toe, and started the shower.

Jackie sat on the closed toilet lid, staring around the room. God, she hated Donna's taste. Plastic, vibrantly colored fish swam across the main wall, cluttering a shelf of perfumes and potpourri, and a statue of dancing dolphins that Jackie was positive she had seen at a Forman garage sale. Spotting a radio on the toilet tank, Jackie tuned it to her old standby station from high school.

Steam filled the small room. Jackie stripped, pooling her clothes by the sink. The hot water stung her chilled skin. She lathered up her hair, massaging her fingers in slow circles across her scalp. Singing along with the song on the radio she swung her hips to the beat, gripping the flower bathtub appliques with her toes. She had always loved the water, loved the way it soothed her troubles and relaxed her. It was part of the reason she had taken up the job offer in Florida. To be so close to the ocean, close enough to hear the waves as she drifted off to sleep, had soothed her on many restless nights. Nights she had spent awake, thinking of the past. And the future.

Rinsing cream rinse from her hair, Jackie lathered up her shower pouf, breathing deep the rose hips of her body wash. She lathered up her body, mouthing along to Cyndi Lauper. She danced under the spray, shaking the wet, silky snakes of her hair across her shoulders.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

"Jackie!"

Yelping, Jackie nearly slid down the tub, heels splaying. She grabbed the soap dish and the shower curtain, her knees buckling as she caught herself.

Donna opened the door. There was laughter in her voice as she called into the steamy room, "Jackie? Did you fall?"

"Donna!" Jackie squealed. She sat heavily in the tub, shoving her hair off her face. Poking her head around the curtain, she glared at Donna. "I could have died, you lumberjack!"

Keith appeared, laughing heartily as he passed behind Donna in the hall. Donna was leaning against the doorframe, her fingers pressed to her smiling mouth. "Nice to see you're back to your old self."

Jackie clutched the shower curtain around her face. "I could have seriously injured myself!"

"Oh, whatever," Donna said, her hand dropping, though the smile remained. "You were seriously injuring us with your singing. Which, by the way, has not improved since high school."

Donna snapped closed the door. Jackie wrenched closed the curtain. Hot water pelted down on top of her head. She upturned her face, listening as the door popped open again.

"Oh, and," Donna said quickly, "Keith is making breakfast, so quit hogging all the hot water. I'll turn off the pilot light if I have to."

Jackie quickly spun the handle. "Alright, alright."

Keith hummed along to the small radio on the counter as he flipped pancakes. Jackie secured the towel wrapped about her head and took a seat beside Donna at the small table. She crossed her legs pulling a free plate closer.

She forked a couple of pancakes onto her plate, spreading butter and syrup over the hot cakes. Cutting into the warm food, Jackie ate heartily, watching Donna and Keith share a kiss as he placed more pancakes on the table.

"Ugh, get a room." Jackie groaned, fake gagging. She stood from the table, helping herself to the pot of coffee.

"You're just jealous." Keith said, running a hand playfully down his chest. "Jealous of all of this."

Jackie laughed at Keith's antics, snorting into her coffee as he rolled his hips playfully in a way that reminded Jackie of a younger Michael. "Oh, you caught me. So jealous."

Donna slapped Keith's butt as he passed by. She took a bite of pancakes. "So. What are you wearing to the wedding, Jackie?"

"I have this great suit set. Wardrobe picked it out for me to wear on the air, but they let me borrow it for this weekend." Jackie said. "It's this emerald color, kind of like your ring. But prettier."

Donna eyed her engagement ring, passing off the slight with a quirk of her brow. "I found this dress, but now I don't know. It's pretty casual."

"It's great on you." Keith said from his place by the coffee pot. He sounded tired, as if he had spent the better part of his life telling her this. Jackie noted the lack of hesitation as Keith added an extra dollop of Irish Cream to his cup.

"You have to say that." Donna said, rolling her eyes at her fiancé.

"Such a good fiancé." Jackie smiled at Keith as he joined them at the table.

Keith's eyebrows rose. "I do what I can."

Jackie stabbed the last bite of her pancakes, swiping the last of her syrup onto the food, before stuffing it in her mouth. "Alright." She stood, dumping her fork and plate into the sink. "I gotta start getting ready. Else I'll look like Donna at the ceremony."

"Love you too!" Donna called after her retreating form.

Jackie and her coffee returned to the bathroom. She set down her cup and set to work on her hair, fluffing the terry cloth over her mostly dried tresses. Tears for Fears crooned at her as she divided and rolled her hair into curlers. Wrapping a hot pink net about the large curlers, Jackie began on her moisturizing routine, rubbing her lotion into her skin with concentric movements. Pulling her makeup case towards her, she studied her complexion. Perfect, as always. Jackie sorted through her eye shadows, selecting a small compact of pretty gold's and browns. She was going for sultry, yet innocent. Cindy Crawford on the cover of last months Vogue.

"Ev-ery-bo-dy wants to rule the world." Jackie sang, her pitch high, swinging blush up her cheekbones.

"Room for one more, Dolly?" Donna asked as she knocked open the door with her hip.

Jackie scooted down the counter a bit, untying the netting from her hair. She took up her hair dryer, setting it on low so she could still hear the radio.

"I never understood why you go through all that trouble." Donna said, setting her small makeup bag down beside Jackie's train case of cosmetics. Donna picked up a compact of eye shadows, popping open the lid and considering each silky pigment. She touched her pointer finger into a pan of lavender, swiping it across the back of her hand. "Your hair is just going to fall flat in this weather."

"Not if you have patience, Donna." Jackie said, moving the dryer around as her arm became sore. "See, I used to say this exact thing to Steven all the time-"

Jackie cut herself off, blinking as if stunned. She continued to blow dry her hair as if she hadn't just stopped talking midsentence. Like a crazy person. Donna caught her eye in the mirror. She snapped closed the compact, placing it gingerly back amongst the other name brand cosmetics.

"Well, I never much cared for all this crap growing up. Besides, my mom was always already ready when I got up for school, I didn't have a Pamela Burkhart to watch and learn from." Donna said, taking out her foundation and shaking the bottle. She leaned her pelvis against the counter, leaning towards the mirror to contemplate her reflection. "I was more concerned with Eric. Or my parents acting like complete morons. Or the guys ogling my mother in a sweater."

Jackie switched off the dryer. "So how are you? With Eric getting married today, and all?"

"What do you mean?" Donna asked. She dabbed foundation on her face, rubbing it into her skin. She met Jackie's eye in the mirror, than focused back on her foundation. "Like, is it weird?"

"Well, yeah." Jackie said. She had begun to unroll her hair, setting the cooled rollers back in their holder. "At one time, this was supposed to be you two getting married."

Donna sighed, screwing the lid back on her foundation. Passing behind Jackie she nudged open the shower curtain. She washed her hands under the bathtub tap, drying them slowly. "I mean, I guess if I think about it, it's a little strange. But he's with Nancy and I'm with Keith, and we're both happy now. And I'm happy that he's happy."

Jackie made a noncommittal noise, unspooling the last curler. She chewed the inside of her cheek, thinking of Steven. Was she happy for Steven if he was happy?

No. The little voice inside her head resolutely said. No, you're not.

A little surprised at the vehemence that took over, Jackie cleared her throat, dropping the last curler into its holder. "That's really sweet."

Donna paused in her eye shadow application. "Yeah. I mean it was weird. When it was all over. For real over, I mean."

"What do you mean?" Jackie asked, swiping her powder puff across her face. She hoped she sounded nonchalant, but feared she sounded as wired as she felt. She took another sip of lukewarm coffee, trying to mask her emotions.

"I mean." Donna paused, picking up her blusher. She shrugged, loading up the soft brush with tint. "It was hard at first. He was my first love, and my first everything, but it wasn't like I didn't know he would eventually meet someone else. I had just started dating Keith when Eric asked Nancy to marry him. He actually came to me and told me before anyone else could say something to me."

Jackie pulled a brush through her hair, fluffing her curls with her fingers. "He did?" Donna nodded. "How did that go?"

Again Donna shrugged. "It was like we were back in high school or something. He was waiting in the Vista Cruiser, outside the station, and he asked if I was free to go for a drive. He said he had something he needed to tell me."

"Ominous." Jackie remarked.

"Eric is anything if not dramatic." Donna agreed. "Anyway, I don't know, I guess I thought that he was going to like- I don't know, tell me he thought we should get back together or something."

"Why would he tell you that?" Jackie interrupted.

"Because we had been hanging out more lately, and yeah, he had brought Nancy around a few times, but it had never seemed all that serious." Donna applied mascara with slow, even strokes. "And I had always held onto this hope that we would be able to make up and come back together and it would be like how it used to be. Better even."

"But what about Keith?" Jackie asked. "Hadn't you two just started dating?"

"Barely just. We had gone on maybe two dates. I wasn't even sure if I wanted a third at that time." Donna explained. She crossed her arms, turning to face Jackie. She took a deep inhale, her words rushing out with her breath. "He told me about Nancy, about how much he loved her, and about how happy she made him. That was like a punch in the stomach. The first thing I thought was that he was telling me all of this because I had never done any of those things for him."

Jackie stood, entranced.

"And then I kept thinking about how only a couple of weeks prior, when we got drunk at Hyde's Halloween party, how we had kissed, and touched one another and how it had felt to be in his arms again." Donna said all this as if it wasn't a complete shocker to Jackie.

"You did what?" Jackie exclaimed. Donna waved a hand, shushing her.

"It was just a mistake, obviously. He avoided me for like a month. Eric said he felt guilty, like he had cheated on Nancy and we promised that it would never happen again and that it would just be between us." Donna snorted. "You're the only other person who knows, as far as I know."

"Well, then what?" Jackie asked, curling her fingers in a Give It To Me fashion.

"He told me that he loved me, and that he had always loved me, always would love me. He said that he still considered me one of his best friends." Donna pursed her mouth, her blue eyes met Jackie's brown ones. "And then he asked for my blessing."

"Your blessing?" Jackie asked incredulously. She tossed her brush into her train case, uncapping a can of Aqua Net. "You cannot seriously tell me he asked you for your blessing."

"He did!" Donna said, laughing a little bit. She brushed out her long red hair, twisting it up on top of her head in an elegant bun. "And I'm happy he did. Keith is amazing. He's the person that I'm supposed to be with. What Eric said was just the closure I needed."

"Closure." Jackie repeated. Her fingers tapped against the edges of her train case. She pulled out a hair comb, twisting up the side of her hair and securing it into place. Jackie kept her eyes trained down, absently sorting through her cosmetics.

"It's an amazing thing." Donna said, pinning her hair with a couple of well-placed bobby pins. She paused, chewing her lip. "Look. Jackie, I know that this may not be my place but… Maybe whatever happened with you and Hyde is just something that just needs to stay there. In the past."

Jackie remained quiet. She felt a deep ache in her belly. Betrayal, maybe, along with cold anger. Here she went again, Donna on Steven's side. She was always on his side. Jackie smiled tightly at Donna as she gathered her things, leaving the bathroom for the guest room.

As she pulled on her clothes, Jackie attempted to quell the zinging that raced up and down her extremities. She had already had her break down, last night. Today was not about her; it was about Nancy. And Eric.

Grabbing her purse, Jackie took one last glance at her reflection. Poised, polished, and pretty. The emerald fabric set perfectly against her tanned skin and dark hair.

"Let's get this over with." Jackie mumbled, heading out to the living room.

"You look very nice." Keith acknowledged upon her arrival into the living room. He adjusted his tie, leaning back in the recliner before the TV.

Donna's trained you well, Jackie thought, giving Keith a genuine smile. She smoothed her skirt, sitting on the floral couch. "Thanks, Keith."

Propping his elbow on the arm of the recliner, he turned his attention back to the sports highlight on the news. Jackie ran her tongue over her teeth, her hands clasped around her knee. "Donna's not ready yet?"

Keith tore his eyes away from the TV to glance down the hall. "Guess not."

"Donna!" Jackie yelled over her shoulder. "Quit powdering your giant nose, and let's go!"

"Coming, coming," Donna said, emerging from her bedroom. She adjusted the collar of her jacket, working the buttons closed. "Come on! We'll be late! Why are you just sitting around?"

"Uhm, we were ready before you, remember?" Jackie asked, slipping her coat onto her body. "I was ready before you. Do you realize this? I, Jacquelyn Burkhart, was ready before a lumberjack."

"Yeah, yeah." Donna said, leading the way to the garage. She hit the garage doors button, pausing at the passenger's door to let Jackie pass behind her. Her mood had soured since their conversation in the bathroom and Jackie had a small inkling as to why. She imagined that it was the same feeling she herself would be feeling it if were Steven and some girl getting married today. Steven and Heather.

Keith started the Jeep Wagoner, putting it in reverse. The streets were covered with a mixture of ice and dirty snow. The Jeep's tires sloshed over the sludge. Music played softly from the radio, and Keith reached across the console to take Donna's hand. His thumb played with her engagement ring, and she smiled up at him, her eyes lighting when they met his.

The wipers lulled her into a stupor and Jackie turned towards the window, her hot breath fogging the glass. She reached up, tracing the pad of her pointer finger through the condensation, writing out her initials.

"Would ya quit that? I swear to god I clean that damn window every day."

Jackie rolled her eyes, turning to Steven. "Liar. I don't do it every day."

"What are you writing over there, anyway?" Steven asked, leaning forward to peer around her head. "Letters? You scrawl letters all over my baby's window like nothing?"

"First of all," Jackie said, leaning into his side. Steven's arm came up, wrapping about her shoulders. "I'm your baby, Steven. And maybe I do write letters, so what?"

Steven did his half smile, where one corner of his mouth rose, and his eyes grew soft. Jackie felt her heart flutter under her breast. "What do you write?"

"Letters." Jackie said brattily. "So what?"

"What letters do you write?" Steven asked. The Camino began to slow, the light before them changing to red. Steven turned his face to her, staring hard at the side of her face. They rolled to a stop behind a station wagon. He nudged the tip of his nose down her soft cheek, pushing aside her hair and bringing his lips just under her ear. His other hand around her shoulders rubbed slow circles on her arm. "You know you want to tell me."

Shivers raced up and down her spine and Jackie's eyes drifted closed, her lip disappearing between her teeth. "Maybe…"

Steven's hot breath coasted over the shell of her ear. His soft lips brushed over her jaw. "Tell me, Jackie."

"I write letters, in a certain order." Jackie said softly, teasingly.

"Your initials?" Steven asked.

Jackie's eyes snapped open. She watched the light ahead of them change, felt Steven's curls brush the side of her face. Her heart was pounding under her breasts. She shifted slightly away, upset. "The light's green."

Steven pulled away, following the station wagon through the intersection. He drove them on, content and oblivious to Jackie's growing anger and resentment. She was happy he had quit asking. She was also pissed that he had given up so quickly. She had been writing her own initials, yes, but she had been writing her initials as she one day hoped to see them written. When she was married to Steven, and they were older, and as much in love as they were right at this second. When they were happy with everything she had ever desired.

Jackie's neighborhood was covered in a dense layer of snow, and Steven pulled the Camino into the drive, throwing the shifter in park. He leaned towards Jackie to kiss her, his hand rising to cup her jaw.

Jackie fielded his attempt, sliding into the passenger seat. Steven looked confused, his hand suspended in the air between them.

Sitting back in the drivers seat, he dropped his hand to his lap. "You mad?"

"No." Jackie said, belying the truth.

"What are you mad about?" Steven continued. His eyebrows furrowed. "Did I say something?"

Jackie took a deep breath, feeling like maybe she could cry. Emotions ran rampant through her and she tried to establish what she really felt. Anger? Yes, she was angry that he had stopped asking her what she was writing. But why? Why, because she would never have been able to tell him the truth. And she was infinitely saddened by that fact. "I write our names, baby. I write how my name will look when I have yours."

Hot tears threatened to break ranks and course down her cheeks. She had made a promise; she wouldn't mention marriage as much. He had stopped smoking so much pot, and she had promised to not nag. So far he had held up his end of the bargain, and Jackie had tried as hard as she could to do the same. They were only just recovering from a fight about marriage, one she had caused two days prior after a trip to the mall when they had passed Halverson's Department Store, and Jackie had made an offhand comment about picking out wedding china.

"No." Jackie said, less peevish.

"Then what's wrong?" Steven asked. "Was it because I told you to quit writing on the window?"

"No." Jackie said a third time. "I'm sorry, I just… Don't worry about it."

Steven's eyes narrowed. "Ok. What's up? You never miss a chance to berate me for something."

Jackie felt the words sting her heart as if he had slapped her. New tears welled in her eyes. She pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes, hoping against hope to hold back the tidal wave that threatened to sweep them away.

"Jackie." Steven said, softer now. He reached out to her, his fingers touching her hair tentatively. Encouraged by her lack of response, he delved his fingers into her hair, touching her neck. "Jackie, baby, look at me."

"No." Jackie cried, bitterly angry and ashamed with herself.

"OK, don't look at me." Steven said.

Affronted, Jackie's hands dropped from her face and she turned to him, her mouth open with disbelief.

Steven smiled, his fingers curling up her cheek. "Made ya look."

Jackie turned away. "Steven, I'm tired."

"Hey, wait." Steven said, as she began to gather her belongings. "Baby, talk to me, what's the matter? You'll feel better once you tell me."

"You're just going to get mad at me." Jackie said, rearranging her hold on her purse. "And then we'll be in another fight, and Steven, I'm just- I'm just so tired of fighting."

"I don't want to fight either." His forefinger hooked her chin, turning her face towards him. "Tell me."

"It's so stupid." Jackie whispered, chin quivering.

Steven shrugged. "I do stupid stuff all the time. I once drank all of Red's beer, and passed out in his chair. That was the dressing-down of a lifetime. You know how much it sucks to mow and edge the lawn in the middle of summer while hung over?"

Jackie knew he had meant it as a joke, to ease the tension, but she didn't reciprocate his laughter. She sniffled, her nose running. "I just got upset is all."

"Ok." Steven said, prompting her to continue.

"I write initials on the window." Jackie said, looking now at the fading culprit of their current discussion. "My initials. And…"

Steven didn't prompt her this time. He withdrew from her. "My initials?"

"Yes." Jackie said, taking a deep breath and looking at him. She shrugged her shoulders in an off-handed way. "I didn't think you noticed."

"Oh." Steven said. "Well, whatever. No big deal."

"Really?" Jackie asked. Steven had turned to face forward, his hands rising to the steering wheel. "You're not mad."

"I don't want to fight, Jackie."

"How are we fighting, we're just talking?" Jackie asked.

"I just feel like we're going to start fighting." Steven said, his body as closed off from her as his tone.

"See, you always do this to me, Steven! You tell me to talk and then get mad at me when I don't say what you want to hear…"

The memory faded as Keith pulled into the church parking lot. Jackie sat straight in her seat, peering over the front seat to stare out the windshield. A line had formed at the main double doors, and Keith fell in line behind them. "I'll let you ladies off at the front before I go park."

"Where did you find this guy, Donna?" Jackie asked jovially, pushing away her memories. "Keith, do you have a brother?"

"Ha, ha, Jackie, very funny," Donna said. She turned in her seat and smiled at Jackie. "He's married, unfortunately for you."

"Damn!" Jackie swore. "There went my last chance at happiness."

"You'll find someone else to torture." Donna promised as Keith pulled up to the church doors.

Jackie and Donna exited the car, rushing into the church. The small lobby was packed, and Jackie tugged her coat open, cursing the body heat that had settled over them worse than the humidity in Florida.

"Who are all these people?" Jackie asked from the corner of her mouth. She pulled off her coat, fluffing her hair with her fingers. "I do not remember there being this many people living in Point Place."

Donna gazed around, perplexed. "It's like everyone from high school. You know them."

Jackie scanned the faces, smiling around like the semi-famous newscaster she was. She led the way to the line leading into the chapel, taking a spot behind a large, older couple. Donna paused at her side, facing opposite, towards the doors so she could flag down Keith.

"What does Nancy do anyway?" Jackie asked as they inched closer.

Donna smoothed her bun with shaking fingers. "She's a teacher at Old Main. That's how Hyde met Heather."

"Ah." Jackie said, balancing back on the heel of her pump.

"Are we not allowed to mention her name?" Donna asked.

"What?" Jackie said, confused.

Donna smirked. "You got this look on your face when I said her name. And last night at the rehearsal dinner it was like someone had electrocuted you when you met her."

"Oh." Jackie took a step forward. "I didn't think I acted any different."

"Right," Donna followed. "And I'm the pope."

"Whatever." Jackie said. She took another step forward, taking the guest book pen from the lady in front of her. Signing her name with a flourish, Jackie waited for the usher to return down the aisle, handing the pen behind her to Donna and a freshly arrived Keith.

"Bride or groom?" The usher, a young, pimply-faced boy Jackie didn't recognize asked her.

"Groom." Jackie said, looping her arm through his. She felt like Elizabeth Taylor, or maybe Joan Collins, as the usher led her into the chapel. He stopped two pews behind where the Forman's would sit, directing her to her seat.

Jackie sat, shaking back her hair. She draped her coat and purse on the pew next to her, nearly jumping when the same usher returned, this time with Donna and Keith. They took seats beside Jackie, settling in. Soft music played from the organ. Voices murmured in hushed tones as the ushers dashed up and down the aisle, bringing everyone to their seat. Programs were scattered in the hymn racks, and Jackie grabbed one, studying it.

Eric Albert Forman and Nancy Elizabeth Thompson.

"Nancy Forman." Jackie whispered, flipping open the program. Her eyes scanned the order of events and she let out an involuntary groan. "We're having mass?"

"No." Donna scoffed. Her eyes rounded in fear and she grabbed a program in front of her, flipping it open. She groaned as she read what Jackie had also read. "I can't believe they would have mass with the ceremony. We're going to be here forever."

"Thank god we ate a big breakfast," Keith whispered, leaning around Donna so Jackie heard.

Jackie opened her mouth to agree, stopping when she looked up and made eye contact with Heather. She was alone this time, her arm hooked through the ushers. "Hey guys. Mind if I sit with you?"

"No!" Donna said, hurrying to cover Jackie's obvious displeasure. "Come sit over here by Keith."

Heather smiled. "Thanks."

Jackie's knees whacked Donna's, she spun so quickly away from Heather's body. Donna glared at her, turning her own knees towards Keith as Heather passed before her and Keith to her seat.

"I can't believe this weather!" Heather exclaimed as she sat. She shrugged out of her coat, water droplets clinging to her long, black lashes. "And I forgot my umbrella."

"Rain on your wedding day is bad luck." Jackie heard herself say. Donna turned to her with wide eyes, as did the couple seated across the aisle from them. Jackie fanned herself with the program. "It's a good thing Nancy isn't suspicious. Silly, stupid superstitions."

"Jackie, do you think you could keep your voice at a reasonable decibel throughout this?" Donna hissed, her cheeks reddening under her makeup.

"I'm sorry!" Jackie hissed back. "I didn't think I was speaking that loud!"

"Everything is so beautiful." Came Heather's voice. Jackie chewed her tongue, staring up at the altar blankly "When Steven and I get married, I want it to be in a church like this."

Jackie scoffed.

Steven was the least religious person she knew.

Good luck with that honey.

"We've already been to pick out our china." Heather continued, oblivious to Jackie's growing, palpable disdain. It's been a freaking week, Jackie thought. "Donna, when you ordered for your registry, were they such a stickler for the exact wedding date?"

"How so?" Donna asked, entwining her fingers with Keith's. His thumb swept over the modest emerald on her ring finger.

"Well, we haven't set our date yet. I want it to be in the spring. But Steven wants it to be in September. He's set on September." Heather smoothed her palms down her lap. "It's the one thing he's really been such a stickler on is the date. Even though I told him it's a Thursday and a lot of guests wouldn't be able to make it at that time." Heather's eyes studied the flowers at the altar. "Do you think Nancy would have the number for the florist? Probably Mrs. Thompson will. These flowers are gorgeous."

Jackie leaned around Donna. "September?" A crazed laugh bubbled past her lips. Her fingers rose to the hollow at her throat, pinching her skin. "When exactly in September, if you don't mind me asking?"

Heather smiled at her, dumb to the effect her words would have on Jackie. "September 24th."

It was like an ice pick had stabbed her right in the heart. She could feel it twisting in her chest, scraping against her ribs and knocking into the flat of her shoulder blades. Slowly, Jackie sat back in her seat, the vertebra of her spine pressing against the hard wooden pew painfully.

September 24th. Her birthday. She was livid. She simmered like a pot about to boil over, and it was all she could do to stay in her seat when the groomsmen began their processional down the aisle. At the sight of Steven, leading Mrs. Forman by the arm, smiling awkwardly at the gathered attendants, her toes ached, longing to make contact with his shins. He either purposefully avoided looking at her, or simply didn't see her, as he passed. Jackie felt her fingers curl, her nails scoring half-moons into her palms.

Jackie could barely remember standing, turning to watch Nancy and her father make their way down the aisle. She couldn't even distract herself with Nancy's dress, an off-white number with a high lace collar, such was the anger that roiled inside her body. She could only hear the gasp of adoration from Heather when she saw Nancy. The way she cooed as they passed by. The black of Steven's tux, the red rose pinned to his lapel right over his heart where she aimed her imaginary arrow.

Who does he think he is? Making my birthday the day he's to marry that- that- slut!

She found her gaze drifting up to Steven, her glare burning her eyelids, her anger heating her cheeks and prickling up and down her arms. He seemed to sense her, his blue eyes searching the crowd for the source of his discomfort.

Out of the corner of her eye, Jackie saw Heather give a small wave; saw Steven's returning smile. He turned forward with the rest of the groomsmen, Kelso, and Nancy's brother, Jimmy, as the priest began the opening prayer.

Time had never passed so slowly, Jackie thought. She spent the entirety of the ceremony glaring at the back of Steven's curls, praying for the first time in as long as she could remember that god would smite him where he sat, leaving behind nothing but a pile of ash. Would serve him right. Maybe they'd roll his remains into a joint and sell it to some snot-faced freshman as weed. It's no better than he deserves, Jackie thought.

"Jackie, you're practically growling out loud." Donna admonished as the exchange of nuptials began.

"I can't-"

"I know." Donna interrupted. She placed a comforting hand briefly over Jackie's. "But burn him with the fire of your eyes later, ok? You're being very obvious."

Jackie finally broke her stare. She had torn and crumpled the program in her lap. Swiping the torn pieces onto the floor, Jackie took several steadying breaths. "You're right."

Jackie knelt when she was supposed to kneel. She repeated the prayers after the priest and Gave Peace to the congregants gathered around her. At communion, she stood tall, shoulders loose, leading her row towards the altar. Every instinct in her body told her to look, to look at Steven as she passed by him, but she resisted. The wine burned her tongue, and the small wafer the priest set on her tongue was like paper, but she sang the loudest of those around her, and responded first Thanks Be To God as mass finally concluded. She was the perfect little Episcopalian her parents had raised.

On the outside.

"I'll meet you guys in the hall," Jackie said as soon as the other wedding guests began to mill about. "I need to get some air."

Tearing off down the aisle, Jackie smacked open the chapel door, her palm stinging. She was wobbly on her heels as she blindly made her way towards the ladies bathroom. She was nearly there when the bridal party offset her, making their exit from a small corridor off the side of the chapel. Nancy and Eric first, laughing and smiling, kissing one another with each step that would allow.

Plastering a smile on her face, Jackie came to an abrupt stop. "Congratulations! Nancy, you look gorgeous!"

Nancy accepted her hug. "Thank you, Jackie! I can't believe I'm married!" She fanned her bouquet before her face.

"Mrs. Forman," Eric crooned at her, bending at the waist to kiss her again.

"Come on you two, there will be enough of that on the honeymoon."

Steven.

Jackie bristled. Taking a small step towards him, she pressed a hand to her throat, hoping to keep the keen energy from her voice. "I need to speak to you."

"What, now?" Steven asked. His blue eyes darted up and around, looking for Heather, I'm sure, before coming back to Jackie.

"Yes. Now." Jackie said, grabbing him by the arm. She led them down the hall and into a wing off the main chapel. Rounding on Steven, she blew a lungful of hot air at him, jabbing him in the sternum. She jabbed him again, harder, for good measure, stepping close to his face. "Where do you get off?"

"Typically in my bed, but somehow I don't think that's what you meant."

"Don't be funny with me, you know what I mean." Jackie crossed her arms.

"Jackie, I honestly have no idea what you're talking about." Steven spread his hands beseechingly.

"September 24th?" Jackie asked. "Does that date ring a bell?"

Steven's eyes grew wide and then quickly impassive. He shrugged. "Should it?"

"Oh, don't play dumb with me, mister," Jackie's pointer finger stung as she prodded him again, offsetting his balance, "I know you know what date that is."

"Look," Steven began. He rubbed a hand down his face. He looked tired, his eyes rimmed red. "What do you want me to say?"

"How about why you chose that date for starters?" Jackie crossed her arms. "Apparently, according to your fiancé, you are adamant that that be the day you say I Do. To her."

Steven licked his lips, propping his right hand on his hip. "I wanted to talk to you about all of this last night."

"Yeah, well we're going to talk about it now." Jackie said. Her heart was thudding under her ribcage, beating a tattoo onto her skin. She felt itchy and caged, as if she could run and run for miles and never tire.

"Ok, well, can we put it on hold for a moment?" Steven asked, his eyes staring over her head as distant cheers rose. "I gotta go in for the reception, and a shit ton of pictures."

"What do you care?" Jackie asked scathingly. "You never liked weddings."

"I know." Steven said softly. "But it's not about me today. It's about Forman."

"Hyde! Man, come on!" Kelso called down the small wing. He motioned with his arms. "They're about to start taking pictures!"

"Jackie, I-" Steven started, taking a step away. A long curl escaped his gelled hair, flipping appealingly over his forehead. "Look, I'll explain everything, I just… I gotta go."

Jackie pivoted on her heels, watching him jog down the hall towards the wedding party. She heaved a great sigh, her head falling back on her shoulders.

In the dim corridor, she felt completely alone. Alone and full of so much hurt and resentment. Steven Hyde could go to hell, she decided, following his path. With each step, she raised her chin higher. She refused to let him batter her down again. If he wanted to live his life in a fucked up fantasy world, well, that wasn't her problem. That was Heather's now. Jackie Burkhart had wasted enough of her life on Steven Hyde.

"No more." Jackie whispered, meeting up with the other congregants milling towards the parking lot. She found Donna in the lobby, and together, they dashed out to the Jeep, climbing in and out of the rain. She was uncharacteristically quiet as they rode over to the Holiday Hotel for the reception, her eyes focused on the water droplets that ran in rivulets down the clean, smudge-free glass.