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

CHAPTER FOUR
BREAKING UP THE BAND

Donna's complaints filled Jackie's room. Ten minutes and counting, and she'd begun to repeat her grievances, but Jackie didn't mind. Her house had become a lonely place without a boyfriend. So much had changed over the summer: her parents' relationship, her thought process, her views about herself and how society functioned—or dysfunctioned. It was unsettling. It was partly Donahue and Steven's fault, but having Donna in her room, chatting away, grounded her in the present.

"Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow," Donna said from Jackie's bed. She'd dragged Jackie's empty Michael box onto her lap, and her thumbnail dug into it "My dad had to choose a Catholic school with the cheeriest name."

"Probably to make a point." Jackie exchanged a flower pillow for the shoebox. If Donna needed to fiddle with something, it shouldn't be what used to contain Jackie's past.

"Because me going to California plunged my dad into perpetual sorrow?"

"No. To warn you that if you ever pull a stunt like that again, he'll make sure you're miserable the rest of your life."

Donna squeezed the pillow's petals. "Huh."

She said nothing more, and Jackie enjoyed the silence. Donna's deep, somewhat gravelly voice could be grating, especially without breaks. But not hearing it in school anymore would suck. Jackie no longer had someone to confide in between classes.

Not that she was confiding in Donna now. She sat on the bed and glimpsed her waste basket. Its white wicker was stuffed with cheap knickknacks, toys Michael had bought her over the course of their relationship. What happened in the basement today had compelled her to toss them.

"I had to leave," Donna said, starting up again. "My dad wouldn't have let me do it, not right away . He would've made me wait a week, to set up the stay with my mom."

Jackie cupped Donna's knee. "Oh, I totally understand. It's like when your manicure's gotten all chipped and ragged, and you're going to a party that night. So, of course, you have to get your nails done. And your regular manicurist says, 'Sorry. I'm all booked up this afternoon,' and you say, 'Here's ten dollars. I'm your next appointment.'"

"Um..."

"Going by someone's else's schedule doesn't always work," Jackie said. "You know what's best for you, and if it conflicts with someone else's expectations, then sometimes you have to say, 'Screw it,' and choose yourself. No matter the consequences."

Donna flinched, as if Jackie had whipped a wet towel at her. "Jackie, what the hell happened to you over the summer?"

"Nothing." Jackie laid her hand on her chest, just beneath her collarbone. Steven's heartbeat still ticked against her skin. It was a memory, but colors exploded inside her mind at the sensation, and her own heart beat faster. He'd held her today, not just hugged her. Held her and nuzzled her hair.

"Bull," Donna said. "You don't usually listen to me this long without interjecting something about yourself."

"I talked about getting a manicure."

"That was a sympathetic analogy, not a conversation-hijacking."

"Whatever." Jackie snatched the pillow from Donna's lap and replaced it with the shoebox. "There. That's what happened. Open it."

Donna pulled off the top of the box. "It's empty."

"Exactly."

"Very funny."

"No, I mean it. That's my Michael box." Jackie pointed at the waste basket. "I threw out everything that loser ever gave me."

Donna got off the bed, pulled the waste basket closer, and sat again. "These are things you can order from the back of comic books."

"Yeah. For our one-year anniversary, he gave me that rubber chicken." Jackie grabbed the shoebox from Donna and crammed it into the trash. "I'm lucky he didn't give me chlamydia."

Donna's nose wrinkled. "Ew, but I guess Kelso's really history for you. … Too bad he doesn't think so."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard him in the basement. He thinks you're so heartbroken over him that you'll take him back on any terms."

Jackie's cheeks grew hot, even as chills rippled through the rest of her body. "Well, I'm not available."

"You've been dating?" Donna patted Jackie's bedspread. "Oh, please, tell me you've been dating."

"Michael is not the be-all and end-all of my existence, Donna. No man is." Jackie pulled her hair from her heated neck, but her fingers tingled with frost. The contrast in temperatures was dizzying. The last time she'd felt like this was after she'd caught Michael cheating on her. He'd begged her to take him back, promised love and devotion, and he was so good at lying he believed his own sincerity.

But she knew the truth behind all his deceptions. She wouldn't define herself by his lies anymore or by her own lies about him.

"I am my own woman," she said. "If and when and who I decide to date is up to me. Not Michael. Not anyone."

Donna nodded approvingly. "I'm impressed. You've really grown."

"Yeah. I've been watching a lot of Donahue."

"Did he ever have an interior design special?" Donna gestured to Jackie's pink walls. "You could use a little growing in that area, too."

"Shut up, you goon!" Jackie hurled the flower pillow at her head. Donna deflected it and laughed, and Jackie laughed, too. Even without going to the same school, their friendship would survive.

And, maybe, so would Jackie's friendship with Steven.

Hyde tried to relax in his chair. His leg was propped up on the mushroom footstool. The TV was tuned to Jeopardy. It should've been an easy morning, the last Friday of summer, but his throat was dry. His bottle of root beer was almost empty, and he kept checking his watch.

Jackie was one minute late.

Every Friday the last two months, she'd shown up at eleven a.m. Every Friday, he acted indifferently to her arrival, but it set off firecrackers in his stomach. Hell, any time he saw her face, an incomprehensible sense of joy shot through his blood.

No girl had ever affected him this much, especially one he wasn't screwing. But below Jackie's surface was someone who questioned deeply, who loved even deeper, and whom people constantly misjudged.

She seemed to prefer it that way, being misjudged. She hid the truth of herself to protect herself, just like he did. This summer, though, she'd trusted him with it. And in return, he'd given her a few chess lessons and a whole lot of aggravation.

He cleared his throat and focused on the TV, but Jeopardy couldn't hold his attention, even with World History as one of the categories. He checked his watch again. She was three minutes late.

Kelso had probably gotten to her a few hours ago. Driven her to the lake for a picnic crawling with ants and a sloppy make-out. She'd always be his girl, despite her rejection of him yesterday. Despite her assurances to Hyde that Kelso no longer interested her.

Eleven minutes into Jeopardy, and Hyde's arms twitched at a familiar click. The basement door opened, and Jackie entered. "I'm sorry!" she said, not two steps inside. "My parents tried to rope me into their latest argument—"

"Nothing to apologize for, man." He stood up and went toward her, swallowing his own apology for thoughts she didn't know about. "It's cool."

"No, it's not." She met him halfway. Her cheeks were flushed, and she hit her knee against the couch's armrest. "I'm sick of it! My mom accused my dad of having an affair with his secretary, and my dad accused my mom of sleeping with our gardener."

"Crap."

"What's worse is they each asked me to confirm their suspicions. 'You've seen him with Linda,' my mom said. 'How she wears those tight skirts around him," and my dad said, 'What about the way your mother looks at Jorge in his white tank top?'" She banged her knee harder against the couch. "I hate it, Steven!"

"I know. It sucks." Her family sitch was fucked up, same as his had been. "They're imploding, and you can't do anything to stop it. Been there."

She gripped the sides of his vest and tugged on them. "You can't tell anyone. Promise me you won't."

"What's to tell?" He clasped her shoulders, hoping to calm her down. She'd mess up her knee if she kept hitting the couch with it.

"Thank you." She let go of his vest and balled her fists at her sides. "Here's what's probably gonna happen. My dad'll buy my mom something shiny, like a diamond bracelet. She'll forget she accused him of anything, and he'll act like he never accused her either. If I bring up the fight, they'll tell me I'm misremembering. It's the way it goes."

He sucked in a breath. As much as he distrusted most everything and everyone, she was desperate to trust. She sought out declarations of friendship and loyalty, of freakin' love, to learn if people were safe for her. That didn't make her Kelso's girl. It meant she was terrified, and Hyde had been a dick about it.

His hands stayed on her shoulders, and he kissed the top of her head. It was an apology. It was a promise. He'd had the Formans to get him through his parents' bullshit. Jackie had no one. She disguised her problems to keep up appearances, but she didn't have to do that with him. He'd be her safe place.

"What the hell?"

Hyde's spine stiffened at Donna's shout, and Jackie's palms smashed into his chest. He stumbled backward but didn't fall. The muscles on her—man, how did such a tiny chick pack so much power?

"I'm blind!" Forman yelled. He and Donna were standing by the basement door, with their eyes bulging and mouths agape. They resembled a pair of suffocating fish. Donna's outfit, though, was far more flattering: a crisp white blouse, plaid skirt that ended above the knee. She'd obviously gotten fitted for her Catholic school uniform today.

"Oh, you are not blind," Jackie said and leaned her butt against the couch's armrest. "What are you two shouting for? Calm the hell down."

"'Calm the hell down'?" Donna moved deeper into the basement. "Jackie, you and Hyde were … well, I'm not really sure what you were doing, but it was—"

"Horrible!" Forman marched past her to the couch, giving both Jackie and Hyde an accusatory glare. "Lips, hair … yours, his!"

Hyde mimicked Forman's frantic gestures. "Oh, no, physical contact!" He plunked down on his chair, but Forman's dying fish face reemerged. "I kissed the top of her head. So what?"

"He was comforting me," Jackie said. "So what?"

"'So what'?" Donna said. "'So what'?"

Jackie grunted and slapped the top of her thigh. "Why do you keep repeating what we're saying?"

"Because this is impossible!" Forman thrust his index fingers at Hyde and Jackie. "You two hate each other!"

"Hmm..." Jackie stood up straight and looked at Hyde. She was tapping her bottom lip. He imagined surrounding it with both of his and pulling it into his mouth, but she said, "Steven, do we hate each other?"

"Nope."

"So where would Eric get an idea like that?"

"No idea." He scratched his left palm against his right wrist and kept his gaze on Jackie. She wasn't acting ashamed or like they had to be secretive. She was playing this situation cool and aboveboard, same as him. Their synergy was more of a turn on than he'd expected, but he willed his blood not to rush south. "Wanna hit up the Oshkosh County Fair?" he said. "Saw a commercial for it."

"Sure," she said and offered him her hand. He grabbed it, and she helped him off his chair. "Watch out, Eric—more physical contact!"

Hyde laughed and followed her to the basement door, but Donna and Forman were muttering at each other. "Kelso is gonna freak out," Donna said.

"Kelso!" Forman said in a hushed whisper.

Hyde opened the door for Jackie, but she pushed his arm aside. The door clicked shut, and she said, "Let him freak out! How many girls did he mess around with in California, Donna? Did you care about me freaking out when he did it?"

"But you're not..." Forman put up his hands, as if physically letting go of his statement.

"I'm not what, Eric?" Jackie said and stepped toward him.

"If you and Hyde are..." Forman stuck out his tongue in disgust, "together in a bedular way, then you're gonna break up the band, Yoko!"

"Yeah, got news for ya, Forman." Hyde eased his arm around Jackie's shoulders in a sideways hug. "She ain't Yoko. She's part of the band."

Jackie covered her mouth. "Oh, my God."

Hyde guided her back to the door. He opened it again, and this time she walked out.

"Hyde, come on," Donna shouted after him, "are you and Jackie dating?"

"Have you become Stevackie Hydehart?" Forman shouted a second later.

Hyde flipped them off before leaving the basement. It was the only response their friends deserved.