The next day, Jane started to worry that Maura had ditched school again. But just after returning from lunch, she spotted Maura walking out of Dr. Sluckey's classroom on Garrett's arm. They were coming her way, and while she panicked, Jane couldn't help noticing something: for the first time since she'd gotten it, Maura was not wearing Jane's locket. Not that Jane blamed her. Maura was smiling at Garrett, but it didn't seem sincere to Jane. She was a bit pale, she looked tired.

Guess he didn't mind getting stood up, then. Wonder what she told him. Maybe being apologetic was enough ...I hope she didn't have to do anything else.

Their eyes met just before they passed each other, and Maura's smile dropped. The look she threw Jane was so loaded with anger, sadness, and hurt that it actually made Jane came to a stop. Garrett and Maura continued on their way and Jane stared after them, wishing a great many things: that Maura would turn to look at her, that she herself would run after her, that either of them could think of something to say. Wishing she could sock Garrett in the face and tackle him with a cheering crowd surrounding them …the fight would get broken up by the principal, perhaps, and Maura would insist on tending Jane's wounds herself…

It was a pretty fantasy, but was crushed by the overwhelming solemnity of her reality. She had no idea how to proceed from here.

As if this weren't enough to be stressing over, Jane was starting her new job today. She'd gotten a call last night informing her that she had secured a position on the staff at the Skylark Country Club, something she couldn't help wondering if the Isles had helped out with. Last weekend had been the starting date she had offered, and today she would be getting her first slice of real uppercrust life. Anxious as she was about it, she was sort of glad for the distraction from Maura. Concentrating on her new job would be good for her.

Angela gave her a ride to Skylark after school, and Jane almost yelped when she saw the del Rossi's walking out of the club. On instinct she slid down in her seat, praying the couple wouldn't notice them, but of course Angela could be counted upon to want to pull over and chat.

Passing the Rizzoli's and del Rossi's into the club were Garrett and his brother Adam, who was home on a break from college. Adam glared at Roxie as they passed, and for the first time, Jane saw a look of nervousness flit across that otherwise confident face. Oblivious to this exchange, Garrett whistled in appreciation, and Roxie smiled at him.

"Don't waste your time," Adam snorted, slapping the back of his brother's head as they kept walking.

"Did you see that bombshell? Wow!" Garrett laughed. "What a beaut!"

"Trust me, you're not her type."

"You know her?"

"Yeah," Adam said stiffly. "I had a buddy who used to go around with one of her suitemates. Ole Roxanne is a strange breed, kid. She likes women."

Garret's jaw dropped, and he turned to look at her over his shoulder. "That chick is one of those?! Not a chance. You must be kiddin'."

"Take my word for it, kid."

"Ah, you're pulling my leg," Garrett said cheerfully. "Women like that don't exist—or are you gonna try telling me it's another one of those things you've picked up at college, that I'm just too naïve to understand?"

"Nobody in his right mind wants to understand those things, Garrett, but that's how they are."

"Nah. It's nothing they can't help! All any girl who thinks that way needs is a real man, yessir," he sighed, slapping his own chest as if to volunteer. "That'd put 'em on the right track in a hurry. I mean any man who knows the first thing about women could lay any babe he wanted."

Adam rolled his eyes. "Oh, and I suppose you're the big expert, huh?"

"You bet! Wait'll you see the girl I've been going around with lately, Adam, she's a pip."

"Like Roxie, huh?"

"Aw, you don't know anything, college man. Any girl who doesn't like men is either a virgin, or someone who got mishandled by some creep in a back alley. All she needs is a little gentling."

Adam laughed and clapped his brother on the back as they headed for the indoor tennis court. "You always were good with horses."

Roxie's unexpected presence had thrown Jane off her game, and she struggled to get through the workday. She managed to avoid running into anyone else she knew as she stuck to waitressing. The job itself wasn't too difficult, but she found her temper was harder to control as she accommodated members who were used to a certain level of respect and cheerfulness. She burned with resentment at each person who walked in, everything about them from their clothes to their perfect hair and teeth reeking of old money. This was not at all like the summer she had worked at an Italian Ice shop, where the customers were friendly and engaging and polite. These people barely acknowledged her, except to scowl when she didn't move fast enough.

It didn't help that every so often, an impeccably dressed young woman with light brown hair would walk into the dining area, and Jane would stumble in fear that it was Maura. So much for the job getting the girl off her mind. And for all the concern that Jane felt at the possibility of Maura waltzing in at any moment, a sliver of her also hoped for that chance run-in. She could not foresee actively seeking out Maura, especially after the look she'd received in the hallway that day. No wonder she was so slow at work: she kept getting distracted by her thoughts. Her boss wrote it off as an adjustment period and she was just asked to pick it up a bit for her next shift.

"Oh, Jane," said her boss, as she passed the woman to get to the changing room. (She was in Skylark's official sky-blue uniform, a dress that was cut a little too cutely for her style and uncomfortable pointed black shoes.) "One of our members wanted make sure you got this."

It was a brown package the size of a small book, and Jane's heart leapt at the mention of a member. "Maura?" she guessed out loud, to her immediate embarrassment.

"No, a Mrs. del Rossi."

Confused, Jane walked back into the changing room, wondering when Roxie could have had the time to get this in without her seeing it. Maybe she'd left with her husband, then drove back and dropped the gift off with someone at the gate? That must be it, as she'd never have known otherwise that Jane worked here. Jane looked around the small room and peeked into the bathroom stall to make sure nobody was around before she opened the package.

It was a book, all right; a pulpy-looking paperback called Odd Girl Out. The cover featured two women: a brunette lying stomach-down on a bed, looking distraught, and a blonde hovering over her, touching her arm. That could be me and Maura, she thought, dumbstruck. What might've been a tagline on the corner of the cover promised: "A confession of love—as shocking—and as honest—as SPRING FIRE!" Not realizing it was the title of an older novel with a similar story, Jane assumed "spring fire" to be some odd sort of metaphor, but she didn't linger on it.

Her grip tightened on the book. This was a romance novel. Roxie had left her a pulp piece about two women. Excitement was diluted by anxiety as she tried to think of a safe place she could keep this, let alone read it. Her room was subject to frequent raids by Angela, who had a habit of finding many things Jane tried hiding, even when she thought she'd been creative. She'd taken to hiding cigarette packs and a small flask at Frost's, but this was something she could never give him.

"Oh, uh, y'know, just some light reading!" Nope. Definitely not.

A branch hit the window, and Jane jumped so badly she dropped the book, fearing it had been the sound of the door opening. She opened her locker so she could change, knowing her mother was probably outside the club waiting for her. It occurred to her that maybe she could store the book in her locker here, but she just as quickly worried that they might get searched. It was too much of a risk.

Looked like she'd just have to keep it on her person at all times.

With the book hidden at the bottom of her purse, Jane bolted from the club. Running along the odd patch of snow, she almost fell twice as she sprinted towards her mother's car. It was not, however, her mother in the driver's seat.

"Frankie?" she said, stepping in.

"Had to get outta there," he muttered. "Wanna go get a cocoa, or something?"

"What's going on at home?"

"Ma's on the warpath."

"Geez, what'd you do this time?"

"I didn't do anything," Frankie said, and the situation must've been serious because he didn't even acknowledge the teasing tone of Jane's voice. "I got home and Ma and Pop were in a screaming match. I haven't heard one like it in years, I swear. I forgot they even used to have 'em."

Jane was starting to get worried. "Well are you gonna tell me what happened, or do I gotta guess?"

"Ma found lipstick on the collar of one of Pop's shirts. And apparently, it was as colorful as the language she used when she chewed him out, 'cause you know she doesn't ever wear anything noticeable except for special occasions." He kept talking, his eyes on the road and not his sister's face, so he missed the color draining out of it. "I guess she'd been about to take care of the laundry, and she found it lying in the hamper. Can you believe that? I can't get over Pop doing something so dumb, leaving it right in the open."

Normally Jane might have felt a twinge of moral outrage that Frankie seemed more upset that their father had been caught, not that he'd been cheating. But it was hard to think of anything else when she realized the shirt Angela had found was the one she, Jane, had been wearing the night she and Maura had made out.

And now Angela thought her husband was having an affair because of Maura's lipstick.

"Frankie, listen to me. We've gotta go home and you've gotta tell Ma that it's your shirt."

"What?!"

"Tell her—I dunno, tell her you borrowed one of Pop's shirts for a night out or something, and it's Riley's lipstick."

"And have her get on my case for going that far with a girl? You're nuts!"

"Frankie, it's nothing! It's a little lipstick—most you'll get is a lecture, and then it'll be over by tomorrow! Ma thinks Pop is having an affair—"

"Well Jane, he is," Frankie said seriously. "I mean, he's gotta be if there was lipstick on his collar that doesn't belong to Ma. How else would it get there?"

And now he sounded incredulous, as if the notion of their father cheating did bother him. Jane tried to keep from getting hysterical, an issue she wasn't quite sure she'd ever suffered before. "Frankie? Listen to me. Whoever this lipstick belongs to… Pop was keeping it secret for a reason, right? I'm sure it's no big deal. I'm sure it's nothing. You know Ma, she likes to be dramatic about stuff."

Frankie glanced over at Jane like she'd been speaking in a foreign language. "You don't think it's warranted in this case?"

She hated lying to her brother, but it was better than their parents getting into major brawls over something Angela was justified in believing but Frank was guiltless of doing. "Frankie, c'mon. Ma won't ever look at Pop the same if she thinks she can't trust him. They're gonna fight a lot more often because she's not gonna be able to ever trust him again. Think how crazy that's gonna make him, and how much more it'd chase him away!" Frankie still looked unsure, and Jane did something she rarely stooped to: she begged. "Please, little brother. Do it for me."

He really didn't like hearing his sister use that piteous tone of voice. It unnerved him. Desperate Jane was not a Jane he was accustomed to, and he'd do just about anything to make her go away.

"Why should I take the heat for Pop, huh?"

"It's like I said, it'll take a load off of all of us! Yeah, Pop'll be angry that Ma jumped to conclusions, but all will be forgiven tomorrow if they write it off as a misunderstanding."

"Well…so you mean we should just let Pop keep doing whatever he's doing?"

"Maybe it was a one-time thing," Jane suggested. "We're just giving him the benefit of the doubt, okay? Please, Frankie."

Curse that puppy dog look she did so well.

They returned home to learn that Frank had left in a huff not too long ago. Jane made her way upstairs as Frankie entered the kitchen to take the fall for the lipstick on the collar, and as he blushingly explained that he and Riley had gotten a little carried away one night, he tried in vain to decipher his mother's expression. She looked hollow somehow, and though her eyes were on him, it was like she wasn't really seeing him. The argument with Frank seemed to have taken everything out of her, and Frankie couldn't help thinking that she hadn't boxed his ears yet simply because she was so relieved at the thought that her husband hadn't been cheating.

Jane, meanwhile, had shut herself inside her room and dug out Roxie's book. Flinging onto her bed, she opened eagerly to the first chapter and started to read. An overbearing sense of I-could-get-caught-any-second was keeping her from being able to fully appreciate it, though; she found herself reading the same lines more than once. With a sigh of impatience, she started flipping through the pages to try and find the scene promised by the cover of the book. She didn't care who these characters were as people. All she needed right now was the reassurance that other women existed who read and wrote these stories, who found inspiration in them, perhaps—

Oh, there it was.

Jane bit her lip and felt like her eyes might burn the cheap paper of the page as she read about Laura and Beth succumbing to their desires. The words nearly blurred together, Jane was trying to absorb them so fast. She couldn't help it, she couldn't help picturing herself and Maura in this scenario, and every part of her started to ache with longing.

She forgot decency. She forgot apologies that needed to be made. She forgot conversations they needed to have and problems they needed to discuss. All she could focus on in that moment was how it had felt to have Maura's lips on her skin and Maura's legs around her waist and Maura thrusting her hips over and down as they had kissed.

One hand had been about to sneak between her legs when her door burst open. She flailed and dropped the book behind her bed, a rather comical move that Tommy failed to acknowledge as he brightly addressed his sister:

"Winter carnival in Concord! Wanna come?"

She'd been so caught off guard and terrified that she didn't process his words at first. "What?"

"There's a big carnival in Concord going on right now. Remember how I was grounded during ours? Sumner and I are gonna go!"

"Isn't that peachy," Jane muttered. "It's a school night, T. Ma and Pop will never let you."

"Pop's out at the pool hall, and we can just tell Ma we're going to a friend's house to study or something," Tommy said with a shrug. "C'mon, we'll be back before they even miss us! Frankie can't go out, Ma didn't say why, but you could take us!"

"Take you?" Jane groaned. "Come on, can't you catch a bus or something?"

"No! You know those aren't reliable, and they might not run late enough. Maura and Garrett are going!"

"Great, why doesn't one of 'em drive you?"

"Garrett wants to take her alone," Tommy said, rolling his eyes. "Y'know, in his own car. But we could meet up with them there, I'm sure. Come on, please? We'll just tell Ma we're headed to the library and she'll never be the wiser!"

Asking for privacy under pretense of getting changed, Jane grabbed Odd Girl Out and stuffed it inside one of her heavier schoolbooks, itself thrown into her bag in her bottom drawer. That ought to keep it out of Angela's clutches for the night.

Jane felt guilty for taking advantage of her mother's troubled state, but the urge to see Maura was too great. Angela didn't even question Tommy's sudden interest in academia on a school night, half-heartedly waving the kids off.

Driving her brother and his best friend to Concord wound up being the longest half hour of Jane's life, even if she drove over the speed limit, and it also had something to do with the fact that a girl she craved might be waiting at the end of this car ride. Again she found excitement and terror fighting for control of her insides, with no clear victor as they reached the carnival. It almost looked like a circus with all the tents pitched to protect various rides in case of a sudden snowfall, though none had come in the past couple of days.

And there, standing near a vendor, were Maura and Garrett with two bags of popcorn, keeping close together. Upon seeing Jane, Maura's eyes went wide and she looked around for an escape, but Sumner and Tommy had already run up and made that impossible.

"Looks like you fellas found us!" Garrett said, tipping his bag at Sumner and pointing out the obvious. "Well done. Hi, Jane."

"Hey," she said. She nodded at Maura. "Hi."

Maura cleared her throat, not meeting Jane's eye. "Hello."

"Quite a set-up here, isn't it?" Garrett asked, leading the way further into the grounds. "I have to say, I'm impressed!"

Sumner laughed and nudged Tommy's elbow, pointing at a Tunnel of Love. "Hey, how much you wanna bet that Frankie and his girl would go in there on a loop if they were here?"

"Sure!" Tommy snickered. "They love corny stuff like that!"

"Kid stuff," Sumner agreed. "If a guy wants to get a girl, he oughtta be brave enough to do it out in the open."

"Speaking of brave," said Garrett, nodding at the nearby Tilt-a-Whirl. "Take a look at that thing! It's gotta be twice the size of the one we had in Boston. Wanna go for a spin, Maura?"

Jane looked at her curiously, knowing Maura didn't have the stomach for such a ride. If she was desperate enough to go on it to avoid Jane, that would send quite a message. But, "I'm sorry, Garrett, I don't think I can. It'll make me nauseous."

"Aw, that's too bad."

"Don't let that stop you from going on it, though," Maura said. "I'm sure the rest of us can find a way to amuse ourselves in the meanti—"

"You're on your own!" Sumner said, taking off in direction of the enormous ride. Tommy was quick to follow, and shrugging at Maura, Garrett followed suit and promised to go on anything else she wanted afterwards.

Although it seemed Maura hadn't planned on being left more or less alone with Jane, that was the situation they found themselves in, and Jane wasn't about to waste the opportunity. This could be my only chance. With a would-be casual shrug, she nodded in the direction of the Tunnel of Love. "Wanna go for a ride?"

As ever, Jane was a master at masking her emotions. Or, in this case, her intentions. Maura had wanted to be so firm in her decision not to be swayed by those deep brown eyes, or her unbelievable voice. In the end, it was overwhelming curiosity that won Maura over—curiosity to know what was in Jane's head, what she was after—and she offered a stiff nod in reply to Jane's off-the-cuff invitation.

They were far from being the only girls in line who would be riding together. A boy and a girl who were just friends were wary of the implications of going on such a ride together, and thus most boys without dates tended to stay away. Girls were much less squeamish. If nothing else, they appreciated the rest and quiet offered by the ride, as well as the chance to tease their friends in line. So, nobody blinked an eye when Jane and Maura stepped into a boat together and were sent on their way.

For a few heart-pounding moments, Maura thought maybe Jane had just wanted to find a place to talk where they could be alone. But as they entered the tunnel, it occurred to her that there were a myriad of places they could have gone to talk and be uninterrupted. Here, the darkness had to be the key.

It soon became obvious that this had been a keen observation.

The tunnel was pitch black, leaving Maura without her sense of sight. But she could feel Jane pressed right up next to her, and Jane whispered into her ear: "Can you stay quiet?"

Context was not a question. "I think so," she said back in a shuddering breath.

"Then do it. Don't say a thing unless you want me stop, okay? And I will, I promise."

Maura nodded, then realized Jane wouldn't be able to see. "Okay," she whispered.

Jane brushed Maura's hair over her shoulder, holding it back as she leaned in. She kissed Maura's neck just below her ear, and could feel Maura's breath catch in response. Accordingly, she pressed her lips with a little more pressure.

The darkness kept them from seeing, but not from knowing where and how their bodies should meet. Jane sensed where her hands should fall; they were both on Maura's hips as the girls sat sideways on the seat, facing each other. The boat gently rocked them, the sound of moving water not doing much to drown out Maura's staggered breathing, or her occasional whimper.

Jane didn't realize it, but she wasn't exactly being silent, either. Her breathing was heavier than normal, but also, she couldn't help moaning at how… good Maura tasted. If she wasn't so scared, Jane would've prepared to get on her knees and worship this girl.

"J…Jane…"

The response was gruff, hot in her ear: "What?"

"Kiss me."

The words had hardly left her mouth before Jane was on it, and it was a powerful kiss. One hand grasped the back of Maura's head, and this time Jane didn't waste any time teasing: she went right ahead and plunged her tongue into Maura's eager mouth, swirling it around hers. At this move, Maura actually sat up off the seat for a moment, her hands then sweeping up to clasp around Jane's neck. She tried to pull Jane as close as possible, and Jane reciprocated for as long as her patience would allow.

Finally she shifted her hands back down to Maura's hips, pulling her roughly onto her lap. Maura let out a sharp gasp as Jane repositioned her, place one of Maura's knees between her legs.

"Move it up," Jane whispered, her hands drifting towards Maura's backside.

Maura hadn't quite heard what Jane had said, but she didn't need to; on instinct, she drove her knee forward, all but ramming it in between Jane's legs. A chill went down her spine at the sound of the deep "mmm" that rumbled from Jane's throat, surely what would have been a loud groan if Maura hadn't been quick to recapture Jane's lips in a kiss.

Their tongues had met again, and Maura was persistently shifting her leg in between Jane's. "Good" was no longer adequate to describe how this felt.

Oh God, yes—!

There was not a single part of Maura that didn't feel as if she were on fire—and she was doused with ice water when Jane abruptly pushed her away.

"Ride's gonna be over in a second," Jane said, her voice raspy. She used her sleeve to wipe at her face in case any of Maura's lipstick had smeared onto it.

Blindly attempting to do the same, Maura felt her face burning with shame; not for what they had done, but for being so desperate that she had allowed Jane to trap her into this again. Tears of guilt and embarrassment started to fall from her eyes, and with her failed attempt to stifle a sniff, Jane glanced over.

"Maura." Her voice was soft, gentle as her touch as she put a hand on Maura's shoulder. Less evident was the self-loathing that had snatched hold of her. For once it wasn't for how she felt, but for how she had just used this girl she cared so much about.

That wasn't okay. It wasn't okay. Tell her you know that and you are ashamed of it and want to be so much better for her.

"Don't touch me!" Maura said sharply, pulling away.

Cowed, Jane returned to her side of the boat. They were out of the tunnel a moment later, and the bright lights set up almost blinded Jane. The assembled crowd at the exit was too busy jeering the boy and girl who'd gotten out ahead of Jane and Maura to pay any attention to the two girls who were getting out together. Maura jumped out of the boat without waiting for it to come to a complete stop. The worker yelled, but she paid him no mind. She didn't even hear him. Jane hurried after her, stumbling in her attempt to catch up. She had no idea what she'd say or do; all she knew was the couldn't just stand by and let Maura walk away again without an explanation.

But Maura beat her to the punch. Whisking around, she said in a very vicious tone, "Don't follow me! I don't even know why you came here. Leave me the hell alone!"

"Maura please, can we—"

"I can't believe I let you do this again," Maura said, clutching her forehead and laughing with incredulous disbelief. "I can't believe I was so desperate just now! How many more times is this going to happen?"

They were at the end of the fairgrounds and nobody was in sight, but Jane felt that even if they'd been in the middle of a crowd she'd have been ready to talk, and talk loudly. "Maura, that's just it! I d—I don't know what to do!" There were tears in her eyes, and her face looked so lost, so scared, that Maura's own justified anger abated slightly. "You don't deserve to get treated like this. I-I'm sorry, I'm being selfish. I just want you so bad."

The bold honesty of the statement caught Maura off guard, and she found herself unsure of how to respond. When in doubt, go to something you know.

"Badly."

"What?"

"You want me badly."

"Dammit, Maura," she muttered, stepping forward. She slid her hands onto either side of Maura's face and pulled her in for a hungry kiss. In spite of herself, Maura responded to it, but Jane broke it off almost right away. Still clutching Maura's face, Jane whispered, "I'm scared, Maura. I'm really, really scared."

Maura reached up for Jane's hands, holding them at the wrist. "I am too, Jane."

"But you were so calm about it," Jane said. "I mean, when I told you about Roxie—that woman who flirted with me—you acted like it could be the most natural thing in the world. How could it scare you?"

"Because I know that not many people are as intelligent as I am," she said, and Jane couldn't help a weak laugh. "It's true! My train of thought—of belief, of knowledge—goes against the grain of mainstream society. And haven't you always been that way, Jane? Haven't you always been just a bit rough around the edges your mother tries to keep you to?"

"Yeah, I guess," Jane admitted, her voice shaky. She slipped her hands away from Maura's face, stuffing them into the pockets of her coat instead. "I just don't think this is the kind of thing either of my parents could turn a blind eye to."

"So…" Maura blinked and for a moment, the sounds of the carnival suddenly seemed amplified. It was a surreal experience, knowing there were crowds of people only several yards away who were not dealing with these problems, who were not weighed down with these concerns. A lengthy silence was established between the two of them, and when it seemed Jane was not going to respond, Maura finished by asking, "What are we going to do?"

Jane shook her head, lips clamped shut to avoid a sob from escaping her. "I don't know," she choked out. "I don't know."

"Well, what do you want?"

"What I want, Maura, it isn't possible."

"Me? You have me, Jane, just say it."

"But if I have you, I can't …I can't have it the way it should be, the way I want it to be. My parents, my brothers, they can't be happy that I found somebody I care about ten times more than myself, and I… Maura, what I want is to treat you right. And I think that means I've gotta be strong enough to let you go, because I'm n—I'm not strong right now. I'm not brave enough to be who I should be for you."

Maura stood there stunned and numb, and it wasn't for the cold weather. She had just heard Jane say so many things she'd been dying to hear for months, but it was bookended by everything Maura had been afraid of hearing. Sometimes Jane made things sound so simple, yet she looked so tortured that Maura knew there was even more going on below the battle-weary surface Jane had already shown her.

"You are deceptively complex," Maura said wistfully. "I do not understand you."

"I think you do," Jane mumbled.

"You need somebody loving. Supportive. Are you brave enough to at least admit that?"

Above all other things, Jane Rizzoli loathed being called weak. But this was the first time she would ever be willing to own up that it was a title she might deserve.