Disclaimer: I do not own Beverly Hills, 90210 or any of its characters.
A loud noise followed by laughter caused Dylan to jolt awake. For a moment, he couldn't remember where he was. The room with the single twin bed was unfamiliar to him. It was only when he stopped to think about the previous evening when he remembered it.
When his conversation with Iris ended, he had waited for her door to shut before grabbing the keys to his Porsche and hitting the road. He couldn't be sure where to go. He thought about going to the Walsh's, but he couldn't risk waking up Cindy or Jim. Then he thought about the yacht and found himself in the parking lot of Marina del Rey before giving it a second thought.
His father and Christine were still up and had just returned from a party in Beverly Hills. For a moment, it had occurred to him that this was odd—why would a man that had just gotten out of jail go to a party with old acquaintances? The situation at hand had forced the line of questioning out of his head and, after explaining the situation and his anger at Iris, his father had encouraged him to stay the night. A warm bed and some peace and quiet seemed great at the time—being stuck at home with Iris in the next room made him feel trapped.
He trudged out of bed, glancing in the mirror. He couldn't believe that his hair was still wet from standing in the rain last night. He tried his best to fix himself up, throwing a tank top over his basketball shorts to seem more appropriate. He wandered out to the kitchen, where Jack was on his hands and knees, searching in the cabinet for something.
"We didn't wake you, did we?" Christine giggled. She was at the kitchen table, pouring herself a glass of orange juice. "Jack's been looking for a pan to fry bacon in for ten minutes."
"No, I've been up," Dylan lied, shaking his head, pulling up a chair at the same table. He glanced at Jack, who pulled out a pan. "You cook now?"
"I'm learning," Jack said, smiling. "Christine is teaching me."
"I never thought I'd see the day that Jack made bacon and eggs," Dylan said, smiling in spite of himself.
"Well, maybe you should have a little more faith," Jack responded, putting the pan on the burner.
"You have to admit that this is a little weird," Dylan said, still smiling.
"Maybe a little," Christine winked at Dylan, taking a sip of her juice.
"Did you sleep well?" Jack looked over to Dylan, who was yawning.
"I managed to get a few hours of sleep," Dylan said, leaning back in his chair. "Considering how late I came over, that's not bad."
"I remember being your age. I could exist purely on three hours of sleep and coffee. Those days are gone," Christine had a thoughtful expression. She glanced at her watch, seemingly surprised. "It's already almost 8:30. I should be on my way."
"This early?" Jack asked, giving Christine a playful expression. "I thought you would be around for breakfast."
"You know how my days are, Jack," Christine replied with a smile, picking up her glass of orange juice and moving towards the master bedroom. "Let me know if the house is on fire, Dylan."
"Will do," Dylan responded, looking back towards Jack. Jack had dropped a few slices of bacon in the pan and, by now, had a spatula in hand. "When did you become so domestic?" Dylan asked, obviously amused.
"Domestic is not the word. I still haven't figured out how to make eggs over easy," Jack said, flipping over the bacon in the pan.
"If you've figured out how to make eggs at all, you're ahead of me," Dylan replied, grinning. "I'm happy if I can make myself a grilled cheese without burning the toast."
"I take it that you go over to the Walsh's on most nights," Jack looked over to Dylan.
"That or the Peach Pit. I would probably starve to death if it wasn't for Nat," Dylan grinned. "After a while, even Brenda gave up on teaching me to cook."
"I hope Brenda's better than your mother was in the kitchen. Did I ever tell you about the time she tried to make Thanksgiving dinner?" Jack turned away from the bacon and took a seat next to Dylan.
"Iris made Thanksgiving dinner?" Dylan asked, scoffing. He couldn't picture Iris wearing an apron, let alone preparing food.
"Hard to believe, isn't it? She was pregnant with you at the time. We had probably been married for less than four months," Jack recalled, locking eyes with Dylan. "She had that nesting thing going on. I wasn't around much, but she insisted on me coming home for Thanksgiving. She invited all of her burnout friends from San Francisco and her father. We were all sitting down and almost everything except the turkey was on the table. Turns out she had forgot to turn the oven on at all. We ended up just ordering pizza."
Dylan couldn't help but smile. The thought of Iris trying to explain the uncooked turkey to an entire table of mismatched guests, including his impatient father, was an amusing mental image.
"Speaking of Iris, did you have that conversation we were talking about?" Jack asked, suddenly very interested.
Dylan, who had been dreading the question, paused. "I did."
"And?" Jack asked, anticipation hanging in his bold gray eyes.
"She didn't go for it. We ended up fighting. That's why I came here last night," Dylan responded, defeated. "It ended up getting pretty ugly."
"I told you that she would react that way," Jack sighed, standing up to take the bacon off the burner. "Let me guess: She said some very critical things about me."
"That's to be expected, I guess," Dylan said, looking down.
"Well, we'll just have to try something else," Jack glanced at Dylan, his expression strong and somber. "Tell your mother that I want to have dinner with her as soon as possible."
"You think that Iris is going to agree to go out to dinner with you?" Dylan asked in disbelief. "I'm sure she'd be on board. After all, it would be so cozy." Dylan couldn't help but resort to sarcasm.
"Look, Dylan, this is the only way," Jack folded his arms. "Let me talk some reason into her. I know Iris better than anyone."
"What are you going to say?" Dylan furrowed his eyebrows.
"Some people need a little more convincing than others," Jack said simply, turning around and using a spatula to move the bacon onto a plate. "Just trust me, Dylan."
Jack carried the bacon to the table, placing it in front of Dylan. He gave his father a skeptical look, still not assured. He suddenly had the sense that Jack had less of an idea of what he was doing than Dylan did.
That morning, Brenda had opted to take a long shower to clear her head. The steam and the hot water always seemed to calm her in the past and it was, at least momentarily, causing the eerie feeling residing in her chest and in her gut to subside. The soundtrack to Dirty Dancing played in the background and Brenda found herself singing along. She had found it under a pile of clothes last night and had been listening to it nonstop for hours.
A series of loud knocks on the bathroom door brought her out of her musical reverie.
"Hey, Jennifer Grey, mind if I use the restroom sometime this morning?" Brandon's impatient voice sounded on the other side of the door.
"Use mom and dad's bathroom," Brenda groaned, reaching out of the shower to turn down the boombox.
"If you don't get out of the shower now, I'm coming in," Brandon warned. "Don't make me do that. That will be a traumatic experience for you and me."
"Get off it, Brandon. I have way more beauty needs than you do," Brenda sighed, turning the faucet to the left and stepping out of the shower. She towel-dried her hair and then wrapped the towel around her body.
"You're underestimating my exfoliating needs," Brandon barged in, relieved when he saw that his sister was already out. "I warned you." Brandon said, shrugging.
Brenda rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah." She stepped out of the room, impatiently closing the door behind her.
Brenda pulled out a black and white shirtdress and a jean jacket from her closet and glanced in the mirror. Her eyes were puffy, but, considering the slim amount of sleep she had gotten the previous night, she looked decent. As she dressed, the volume to her boombox went up. Brandon sang along to the lyrics comically.
"I had the time of my life and I never felt this way before. I swear this is true—and I owe it all to you," Brandon bellowed, while the buzzing sound of his electric toothbrush sounded in the background. Brenda laughed, knowing that she had forced Brandon into watching the movie at least ten times.
Something about a movie with Patrick Swayze made everything better for Brenda. Her twin was decidedly less enthusiastic, given the dancing and Patrick Swayze's general disregard for shirts. She made a mental note to rent that movie soon.
Brenda completed dressing and began to apply mascara. Just as she was about to rejoin Brandon in the bathroom to tease him for his singing skills, the door to her bedroom opened. Her father, dressed for work, knocked on the doorframe before he entered.
"Mind if I have a word?" Her father asked sheepishly.
"Step right in," Brenda said, glancing to Jim. She folded her arms, walking to her bed and taking a seat.
"Brenda, I know this have been rough between us for a few weeks," Jim began, slowly approaching Brenda. "First of all, I want to apologize for not trusting your judgment more."
"I think it's a little late for that, dad," Brenda said softly, her eyes steely.
"I understand why you're angry. I haven't made things easy on you for a while. I wanted to let you know, though. I won't challenge your relationship with Dylan any longer," Jim said, exhaling for the first time in a while. "You're a young adult and you're capable of making your own decisions."
"Why now, dad? Why would you suddenly choose to accept Dylan?" Brenda asked in disbelief.
"Dylan is a part of this family. This situation has made me realize that," Jim said, matter-of-factly. "The truth is, Dylan is not perfect. The fact of the matter is, he is a good kid. He's confused and sometimes he makes bad choices—but, deep in his heart, he knows what's right. He loves you and that's all I could ever ask."
Brenda was speechless. She almost didn't know what to say. For so long, she had battled against her father and had gotten nowhere.
"I drove him away. I made him feel unwelcome in this house," Her father began to pace. "I don't want to stand in the way any longer. I want you to be happy, sweetheart."
Brenda's heart beat fast. She couldn't stop thinking about Dylan. "How do I know that you won't change your mind about this? What's to say that in a week you will feel the same way?"
"Have I ever misled you before, Brenda?" Jim asked, raising his eyebrows. Brenda paused. If there was one discerning attribute about Jim it was his consistency. "I'm sure about this. There's no turning back."
She stood up, hugging her father for the first time in a long time. "I love you, dad." Brenda said, almost on the verge of tears. This moment had been hard-fought.
"I love you too, Brenda—more than you can imagine," Jim said, holding his daughter close.
"Can I tell you the truth?" Brenda said, suddenly meek. "I'm worried about him. He didn't tell me about any of this."
Jim nodded his head. "Me too. I've come to understand that all of this is very confusing for Dylan. He's getting a lot of pressure from a father that hasn't been there for him." Jim still had an expression of concern as he pulled away. "We have to leave it in Iris' hands now."
"How can we just sit there and do nothing?" Brenda asked, biting her lip. "There must be something I can do."
Jim grasped her shoulders. "You have to be there for him—that's really all you can do, Brenda."
Brenda locked eyes with her father, nodding her head. As her father exited the room, she collapsed on her bed. She had never felt so helpless before.
As Brandon twisted the code to open his locker, he yawned, wishing that the day were over already. Four classes out of the way, three more, including AP Spanish, to go. He couldn't imagine sitting through another one of Senora Alvarez's classes—especially one that Steve had, by some sort of dark sorcery, managed to get into.
He stared blankly at the books in his locker—Spanish, English IV and Calculus textbooks stared back at him. Reasoning that he would grab the English IV textbook later, he put the Spanish textbook under his arm and prepared to walk out into the courtyard, where he had agreed to meet Brenda for lunch.
"Hey stranger," He heard a silvery voice from behind him before he had the chance to slam his locker shut. He smiled when he saw Kelly beside him, her cheeks flushed and her smile bright.
"Hey Kel," Brandon said, trying to reduce the amount of awkwardness that hung in the air between them. "What's up?"
"Nothing much—just trying to figure out what to do for lunch," Kelly responded, her big blue eyes focused on Brandon in anticipation.
"Well, you're always welcome to join us," Brandon said softly, smiling at her.
"I might take you up on that," Kelly said, glancing over to Brandon's brown paper bag and holding up her own bag. "As long as you are up for trading."
"Always. A man can only handle PBJ for so long," Brandon joked, stopping at the vending machine and pulling out three quarters from his pocket. "Want anything? I'm buying." He turned to Kelly.
"Diet coke, please," Kelly chirped, leaning against the wall adjacent to the vending machine. Brandon inserted three coins and handed Kelly the soda once it fell out. As their hands touched, Kelly blushed. Their eyes met. Certainly, two people as experienced as Kelly and Brandon shouldn't be nervous, Brandon thought—and yet, inexplicably, his heart was beating fast.
"Hey, Brandon?" Kelly bit her lip.
"Yeah, Kel," He didn't break his gaze.
"What do you say we go on a date—a real date?" Kelly asked softly, her cheeks pink.
"Sounds good," Brandon replied before even thinking about it. "What were you thinking?"
"Uh, I don't know how this works. I've never actually asked a guy on a date," Kelly laughed, putting Brandon more at ease. "What do you think?"
"What about a good old-fashioned dinner and a movie?" Brandon retrieved a regular coke from the vending machine and glanced at Kelly before they began to walk again.
"Sounds good," Kelly grinned, her eyes dancing. "I guess there's only one question: what movie?"
"Now that, Kel, is up to you," Brandon raised his eyebrows and smiled genuinely.
"Brando," Steve's urgent voice broke the moment. "You have to help me with this homework. Alvarez is going to kill me if I don't have this done by 2. I'm barely getting a C as it is."
"Calm down, Steve," Brandon gave Kelly an apologetic look. "We have all lunch period to salvage your grade."
"Thanks, man," Steve said, his face relaxing. "For a minute there, I was freaking out."
"Really?" Brandon opened the door leading to the quad. "I didn't notice."
"Why are you even in AP Spanish, Steve?" Kelly raised her eyebrows. "Isn't there an extra gym class you can take or something?"
"I failed Spanish II, so I need an extra language credit to graduate," Steve replied as Kelly gave him a knowing look.
"At this rate, it's not looking too promising," Kelly replied, as Steve threw her a dirty look.
"I don't see you on any honor rolls," Steve muttered.
"Now, kids, what did I say about arguing in public?" Brandon laughed jovially, approaching his sister.
Brenda was sitting at the base of a tree when the gang arrived. She removed her sunglasses as Brandon, Kelly and Steve chose spots around her.
"I brought some guests," Brandon said, looking towards his twin.
"I see that," Brenda looked to Kelly and Steve, who were still exchanging dirty looks. "Something wrong, guys?"
"Don't ask," Kelly said, rolling her eyes. "Steve's just upset that I call him on his bullshit."
Steve smirked. "Like you have so much room to judge, Kel," Steve flipped open his book, frantically flipping pages.
"Anyway, I'm just ready for senior year to be over," Kelly said, glancing to Brenda. "I can't leave this place soon enough."
"Tell me about it," Brenda said, taking a small bite of her turkey sandwich. "I don't know if I can survive another three months of Gil Meyers' class."
"He is cute, though," Kelly said mischievously.
"Get your mind out of the gutter, Kel," Brenda couldn't help but laugh.
"Who's cute?" Dylan's voice caused the laughing to cease immediately. She looked up at him. He wore jeans and a simple black Nirvana t-shirt.
"Dylan," Brenda's mouth was slightly ajar.
"Who's cute?" Dylan repeated playfully, taking a seat directly next to Brenda.
"Johnny Depp," Kelly blurted out blindly. She hung her head, hating that she still felt uncomfortable whenever Dylan was around.
"Er, Johnny Depp," Brenda repeated, smiling awkwardly.
"Don't listen to them, Dylan. They were talking about 'Gil Meyers'," Steve said, imitating a dreamy tone while saying his name.
"Someone's hot for teacher, huh?" Dylan said, his warm voice smooth and throaty.
"I could take him or leave him," Brenda leaned in, kissing Dylan and feeling an electric jolt ripple through her body as he grasped her cheek. "What's new with you?"
"Oh, you know, the standard," Dylan replied, maintaining eye contact with Brenda. "Jack and I have had some time these past few days to hang out."
"That's great, D," Brandon spoke up, genuinely enthusiastic.
Steve, who hadn't looked up from his textbook since Dylan sat down, finally joined the conversation. "Wow, I had no idea that Jack and you were so close now. Rush and I don't always get along, but you and your dad usually take it to a whole new level."
"Steve," Kelly gave him a warning glance.
Dylan gave Steve an icy gaze, not appreciating his abrupt input. "I don't really remember asking for your opinion."
"I didn't mean it in that way," Steve said, shrugging. He returned to his book, suddenly remembering the panic that had occupied him mere minutes before.
Brenda looked at Dylan, whose face was still tense. "Sorry, man. I guess I'm a little on edge." He said, after a long moment.
"I know how you feel. Midterms can be a real bitch," Kelly said, trying to lighten the mood as she glanced at Brenda. "You've probably studied for everything for weeks."
"What's wrong with being prepared?" Brenda smiled at the taunt. She reached for an apple at the bottom of her purse and took a bite out of it. "I have to finish out with a good GPA."
"Who cares about GPA during the last semester of senior year?" Steve scoffed. "Colleges don't look at that anyway. When you're accepted, you're accepted."
"I'll keep that in mind, Steve," Brenda grinned, sharing her brother's look of amusement.
"Have you decided where you're applying yet?" Kelly asked, taking a bite of the PBJ she had traded for the cold lasagna her mother had insisted she pack this morning.
"I have a short list. Let's see—California University, UCLA, maybe NYU, even though I don't think I can handle harsh winters anymore."
"I couldn't deal. I'm only planning to apply to CU so far. Maybe I'll check out the psychology programs for in-state colleges," Kelly said, realizing she hadn't put much thought into it so far. "What about you, Brandon?"
"I couldn't imagine going anywhere else—L.A. feels like home now. I'll apply to CU and a few safety schools," Brandon responded, making a mental note to get an application soon.
"Are you kidding me, Brando? Why would you even apply anywhere other than CU?" Steve gave Brandon a skeptical look.
"Not everyone has connections at the higher levels, Steve," Brandon threw Steve a knowing look.
Donna and David, just returning from a shift at the radio station, sandwiched themselves between Steve and Kelly. "Did we miss anything?" David asked, looking around from person to person.
"Just talking about schools and applications. You guys have any ideas where you're applying?" Brandon asked as they began eating their lunches.
"I guess I'm thinking about CU if I'm able to finish my senior year alive," David answered, sighing.
Dylan, who had been quiet since his outburst at Steve, suddenly spoke up.
"Hey, I don't mean to interrupt, but I've got to take care of a few things." Dylan said, suddenly springing to his feet. "I'll catch up with you later, Bren." Dylan walked off quickly, not waiting for a response.
"Wait," Brenda got up quickly and jogged to catch up with Dylan. "Where are you going?" The group heard Brenda yell. Suddenly everyone became very quiet.
"Something I said?" David turned to Donna, who merely shrugged.
Dylan stopped as Brenda finally caught him at the quad. She was out of breath and aggravated at Dylan's sudden departure. At the same time, she couldn't be mad at him—she knew that something had to be wrong.
"Hold on, Dylan. You don't have to go so fast," Brenda caught her breath as she approached him. His back was still turned to her. "Where are you going?"
"It's like I said—I have some things I need to do," He turned around slowly. Brenda could tell that his defenses were up. He was almost certainly in attack mode.
"Are you sure you really have things to do?" Brenda asked, knowing that prodding him was probably a bad choice. "Or did you just feel uncomfortable?"
Dylan sighed, folding his arms. "Bren, you know how I feel about conversations about the future, about college. I needed to get out of there."
"You know, I used to think it was important that you go to college. Now I know that it's not absolutely necessary—you march to the beat of your own drummer, Dylan," Brenda tried to reach out to him. Her voice was soft and thoughtful. "You'll be fine, no matter what you decide to do."
"I just can't get it out of my head that everyone is moving on and I'm staying in the same place," Dylan's defenses were still not entirely down.
"No one's going to leave you, Dylan. You're like a brother to Brandon. Donna loves you. David has worshipped you since freshman year. Steve is a pain in the ass, but when it comes down to it, you'll always be friends. Kelly is still trying to get over all the weirdness, but she still really cares about you—I know that much. As for me, that's pretty self-explanatory," Brenda rubbed her elbow, trying to find a way to open Dylan up. "I'm never leaving you, Dylan."
"You're talking about moving to New York, Brenda," Dylan said softly.
"Dylan, that's a slight possibility. I'm exploring some of my options. Either way, I'm never going to leave you. I love you," Brenda reached out to touch him, placing her hand on his cheek. "You have to know that."
"I know, Bren," Dylan met her gaze and then looked down.
"I'm worried about you," Brenda moved closer to him. "My dad told me about his visit with you and Jack."
"Jim shouldn't have told you any of that," Dylan's anger simmered. "This is between me and him."
"You should've told me, Dylan," Brenda's voice was still quiet. "We need to share things like this."
"Why? You would have told me it was a bad idea just like Jim and Iris," Dylan's eyes were filled with quiet intensity. "Everyone's so worried about me they won't let me make my own damn decisions."
"We just want you to make the right decision," Brenda exhaled for the first time in a while. "It's great that Jack is in your life. I'm happy for you—I really am. You need to reconsider this, though."
"Brenda, this isn't your concern," Dylan said through clenched teeth, anger seething within him. "Please don't get involved."
"Dylan, you're my concern. I'm looking out for you and you can't stop me," Brenda's voice escalated. "Why can't you let me care about you?"
"You call this caring about me?" Dylan looked at her with a dark rage. "My father has just come back and already you're judging him—you're judging me. You have no idea what it's like to deal with the things I've dealt with."
"No, Dylan, I don't. I'll never know. All I want to do is help," Brenda was grasping for straws here, but she knew she had to try—if she didn't try, she failed from the start.
"Is that all you want to do?" Dylan repeated, exasperated. "Why are you ruining this for me?"
"You can't blindly trust Jack. Get close to him, spend time with him, do whatever you need to do—but keep your money out of it." Brenda's eyes were full of yearning. "I'm begging you."
"I can't believe you," Dylan's voice was loud and his eyes were guarded and cloudy. "You're just as bad as everyone else." Dylan began to walk away again and Brenda trailed after him, her heart beating fast.
"Don't walk away from me," Brenda's voice rose. "You're acting like a child."
"Leave me alone, Brenda!" Dylan yelled. "I'm done with everyone telling me what to do."
"You can't just leave," Brenda grabbed his shoulder, but he jerked it away.
Dylan turned around and gave her another steely stare. Brenda stopped and watched as he jumped on his Porsche and rode away. As she watched his car blaze off into the distance, she felt tears form in her eyes.
She stood there for a moment, her arms folded. She tried to fight the tears. She suddenly felt an arm on her shoulder.
"Bren," Andrea's voice comforted her, but the sadness remained. "Is everything okay?"
"No," Brenda said, tears running down her cheeks. "I don't know how to help him sometimes. He just—."
"Dylan is difficult to tame. You're bound to have some argument here and there. Don't blame it on yourself," Andrea said, as Brenda slowly turned towards her. "I do know he loves you—everyone knows that."
"I love him too," Brenda sniffed. "Sometimes it just hurts."
"I know the feeling," Andrea smiled. "I know just the thing to cheer you up. Let's have a girl's night—just the four of us, Donna, Kelly, you and I. We'll rent some movies and pig out."
"Yeah," Brenda said, laughing. "That sounds perfect. Just promise me one thing." Brenda began to walk alongside of Andrea. "We have to rent Sixteen Candles."
"You read my mind," Andrea replied eagerly as they approached the rest of the group.
They sat across the table from each other, neither having an idea how to start the conversation. Iris couldn't believe Dylan had been able to talk her into meeting up with the ex-husband she had avoided seeing for all these years. She had been content not having him in her life. Desperate times, however, called for desperate measures.
He was as tall, suave and shrewd as she remembered him. He was older, though—the hair that had once been a deep chestnut was now entirely gray. The subtle presence of wrinkles had shown up across his sleek, tan face. The gray eyes that had once been full of ambition and cunning, however, had remained that way. She could remember why she fell in love with him, but she couldn't help but chide herself over how naïve she'd been all those years ago.
"Strange, isn't it?" Jack said, taking a sip of his gin and tonic. "Together again, after all these years."
"Strange is a good way to put it," Iris touched the stem of her wine glass. "I thought Dylan would join us tonight."
"You know Dylan," Jack leaned forward. "Sometimes he shows up, sometimes, more often than not, he doesn't."
"Like father, like son I suppose," Iris said cautiously, looking into Jack's eyes. "You always were a rogue."
"Oh, come on, Iris," Jack's expression was flirtatious and sly. "Can't we play nice, at least for tonight?"
"I might have agreed to come, but I didn't agree to play into your scheme, Jack," Iris felt stronger than she had when they were married—now she could look into his eyes and tell him exactly how it was.
"What scheme are you referring to? Do tell," Jack's thin smile never budged. Iris couldn't stand the insincerity.
"You know as well as I do that Dylan doesn't need that money. I set it aside for him, not for you to come back to claim years later," Iris folded her arms. "You may not be interested in protecting Dylan, but I am. I don't need to be a friend to him."
"I'm trying to be his father," Jack didn't break their gaze. "Can't I at least do that?"
"Let me get this straight: you come back when he's almost grown and you're interested in being a father to him? You're too much," Iris shook her head. "You came back because you had nowhere else to go."
"You're so cynical," Jack finished his drink. "What's really bothering you is that Dylan is on my side."
"This shouldn't be about sides, Jack. We're his parents and we haven't acted like it. You're still not acting like a father," Iris sighed. "Please, just drop this. Keep Dylan's money where it is and we'll leave it at that."
"I've got a better idea," Jack leaned in further. "I can offer you something in exchange for your cooperation."
"What are you talking about?" Iris asked, her anger mounting. "You think I'd be willing to sell out our son for a bribe?"
"I'm saying that you need money. You can do anything you want with it—you could buy property in Hawaii or start that yoga school you've always wanted," Jack's voice was soft, but powerful.
"A year ago, a month ago, maybe even a week ago, I probably would have said yes," Iris paused, looking away. "Now, I can't. Too many people are counting on me— Jim and Cindy Walsh, Brenda and, especially, Dylan. I'd like to be a good force in his life and you should want that too."
"Can't you see that's what I'm trying to do, Iris?" Jack spoke, exasperated.
"Jack, it's high time that someone came out and stood up for what's right. I had hoped that you would do that. In fact, it's the least you can do for Dylan. It looks like I'm going to have to make up for your failings."
"This is the last time I'll offer," Jack warned impatiently.
"I don't want Dylan's money and you shouldn't want it either," Iris stood up. "You know, Jack, I really thought you might have changed."
With that, Iris began to walk away.
Oreos, popcorn, chips and an assortment of chocolate were sprawled across the floor in front of Kelly, Brenda, Donna and Andrea. They sat intently in front of Kelly's living room TV, watching the last scene of Sixteen Candles.
Molly Ringwald and Michael Schoffield gazed at each other over a blazing birthday cake.
"Happy Birthday, Samantha. Make a wish."
"It already came true."
"Gets me every time," Donna sighed, eating a handful of popcorn.
"Why aren't there any Jake Ryans at our school?" Brenda grinned as the screen faded to black and the credits rolled.
"There are," Andrea chimed in playfully. "They're called Dylan McKay."
"Or Brandon Walsh," Donna smiled, glancing at Kelly.
Brenda groaned. "Are the only cute boys in school the one I'm dating and the one I'm related to?"
"I think David is pretty cute," Donna added softly.
"Now I'm going to be sick," Kelly rolled her eyes, reaching for a cookie. "Next you're going to say Steve is a hunk."
"Eh, not for me," All four girls said in unison.
"Who would have thought we'd be together under the same roof like this again?" Andrea joked, looking to Brenda.
"A few weeks ago, we wouldn't have been. But now, I wouldn't have it any other way," Brenda gave Kelly a smile. "We have to promise to never fight over a guy again, Kel."
"Oh, believe me, those days are done," Kelly giggled. "I'm moving onto better and bigger things."
"With who?" Donna asked, suddenly curious.
"I can't say," Kelly couldn't hide her smile, but with Andrea and Brenda in the room she couldn't very well blurt it out.
"It wouldn't happen to be someone related to Brenda, would it?" Donna asked mischievously.
"Donna," Kelly said in surprise.
"Just asking," She replied sheepishly.
Brenda tried to hide her smile, as Andrea looked increasingly uncomfortable. "Is there anything we can talk about other than guys?"
"Bren, this is a sleepover. Are you kidding?" Kelly asked with a smile.
"I guess I just want to get everything off my mind," Brenda sighed, leaning back on the couch.
"Hey guys," David peaked his head in the room, much to Kelly's dismay.
"David, I told you to stay out of here," Kelly groaned, getting a throw pillow off the couch and throwing it towards the door.
"Kelly," Donna protested.
"Donna, we agreed on this," Kelly held her finger out.
"Fine," Donna said, folding her arms. She mouthed something to David, who proceeded to leave.
"So, what's going on with Dylan anyway?" Kelly asked, unsure if her question was appropriate.
"It's not really about Dylan—it's more about Jack," Brenda sighed. "I don't want to get into it, but it's really a mess. Dylan's relationship with his dad has always been complicated."
"It's really too bad," Andrea replied. "He looked upset."
"Well, that was more me," Brenda looked down into her lap. "I shouldn't get involved."
"Bren, don't worry about it. Knowing you and Dylan, everything will be fine," Kelly reassured.
"I'm not so much worried about me and Dylan—I'm more worried about Dylan's well-being," Brenda, again, tried to get her mind off of it. "Anyway, ladies, I brought Dirty Dancing and Pretty in Pink. You know what that means."
"Don't have to tell me twice," Donna scurried for the VHS, inserting the video and returning to her place.
Brenda felt good to be back with her friends. She felt good being able to talk about her love life with Kelly. Despite the fun, despite the renewed friendship, however, her chest remained tight and her stomach nervous. As the night went on, Brenda couldn't stop thinking. She couldn't control that ominous feeling that had begun the previous day. She couldn't get him out of her head—and the enduring feeling that everything was about to change.
This was a really long chapter, but I hope I managed to tie up some loose ends. I felt like I had to tie so many loose ends that it might have been boring, but hope you enjoyed, nevertheless. Thanks for reading and please review!
