A/N: Hey, everyone! For those still with me, thank you, and sorry for the long wait between chapters. This one came in at over 2,400 words, and many of them got rewritten several times...Add to that the fact that I've been working on future scenes as well, and I'm just glad to finally post again. It shouldn't be as long until next time, I promise.

(Okay, and binge-watching the first three seasons of 'Ozark' didn't help, either.)

Please comment and let me know what you think thus far, and thanks again!

Almost Sorta Famous

Wednesday, July 9, 1969 – 4am.

Lacy had come awake in the dark, slick with sweat and still horny from her most recent – and most intense – sex dream about Riley.

After a quick trip across the hall to pee, she'd padded back to her room and taken care of her other urge a bit more slowly.

Now, half an hour later, she finds herself slightly short of breath and unable to fall back asleep, thanks in part to her piece-of-shit air conditioner no longer blowing any air whatsoever.

Between that and her excitement over Mark Tammerly's column appearing later today, it's a wonder she'd slept at all.

Just get up already.

Lacy swings her bare legs off the side of her bed, curls her toes into the plush carpeting, and glares at the air conditioner.

"I should fetch Daddy's pistol and put you out of my misery," she tells it, then peels off her damp white tee and heads back across the hall to shower the sweat off her body.

"Don't you ever wear clothes?"

Lacy, standing in front of the closet in just her maroon gym shorts, looks over her shoulder to see Peg gazing at her from the doorway to her room.

"Only when I have to."

She yanks one of her Lady Renegades crop tops – also maroon – off its hanger and slips it over her head, then pulls her damp hair from under the collar.

Peg's dramatic sigh from the doorway earns her an amused look from Lacy.

"Now what'd I do?"

"Nothing. You just have no idea how jealous it makes me every time I see you do that."

Lacy feigns innocence. "Me putting on a shirt makes you jealous?"

"Not the shirt part, goof. The part where you free your hair from under the collar."

Lacy grins. "Serves your ass right. I still can't believe you let Ricky Austen talk you into scalping yourself like that."

"You hush," Peggy warns, shooting her a mock glare. "I was crazy in love with his fake charm and flashy clothes."

"And his cherry-red Mustang," Lacy teases. "The same one he drove Sherry Chan to the cafe in last week."

Peg's eyes widen in shock. "He's doing it with Sherry now? But she's only nineteen, and her hair's as long as yours!" She takes a deep breath to calm herself. "Did he say anything about me?"

Lacy shakes her head. "Not a word. He was too busy to say shit about anything."

"Too busy how?"

"Just busy, okay? They were kissin', and he had his hand up under her skirt." Then, with her own dramatic sigh, she adds, "Made my nipples hard just watchin' 'em."

"Your nipples get hard when the wind blows," her sister retorts. "But seriously, someone should warn that girl about Ricky's evil ways."

"Someone already did. I told her about his bullshit with you, an' how if he ever asks her to cut her hair she should run like hell."

"Oh, man. How'd that go over?"

"'Bout like you'd expect. They started fussin' at each other, he told her to go fuck herself and her hair, then took off an' left her sittin' there in the booth."

Peg arches a brow. "No shit? Good for her."

Lacy grins. "For me, too. I made a friend and a five-dollar tip all at the same time."

By seven, with Evelyn on her way to open the cafe and Peg back in bed, Lacy sits on the front porch steps painting her toes with the same peach-colored polish she'd gotten at the Rexall, feeling a bit put out that no one but her seems to care about their impending notoriety.

Ma'd be psyched too, she tells herself, 'cept she's gotta work. An' Peggy cares more'n she lets on.

Now, done with her nails, Lacy caps the polish and sighs, feeling suddenly melancholy for no reason she can think of.

Then she hears Josie's Camaro before she sees it, Steppenwolf's Born To Be Wild waking the neighborhood as the car pulls into the driveway and stops next to Peggy's El Camino.

"Lacy!" Lisa cries happily, out of the Camaro and running at her even before Josie has time to rev the engine once and cut the ignition.

Lacy barely has time to brace herself as the younger girl collides with her in a fierce hug that has her grinning.

"I love you, too," she says into Lisa's tousled hair. "But what brought that on?"

"You looked sad," Lisa answers, breaking their embrace. "An' I missed you."

"You did? But we just seen each other like Saturday or something."

"To her that was forever ago," Josie says, joining them on the steps and pulling Lacy into a slightly less-aggressive hug. "An besides, you an' me just saw each other yesterday, an' I still missed the hell outta you."

"Y'all are sweet," Lacy tells them. "Now hush before I cry all over both of you."

"I wouldn't mind if you did," Josie says. "It'd give me an excuse to comfort you."

"Y'all need to get a room," Lisa informs them, then eyes the fresh coat of polish on Lacy's toes. "I like that color. Can I borrow it?"

"Sure," Lacy replies. "How 'bout if I paint your nails for you? I been dyin' to get my hands on those naked toes of yours."

"Now who needs a room?" Josie teases, then notices the girl pedaling a ten-speed up the street toward them. "Who's that bringin' the paper? Almost looks like Tammerly, except with way more hair and bigger boobs."

"I reckon that's Meredith," Lacy says as the bike rolls to a stop in front of them. "Mark's younger sister."

"Call me Merri," the girl says. "Everyone else does."

Like the three girls studying her from the porch, she is barefoot, wearing barely-there jean shorts and a white sleeveless blouse tied-off loosely under her clearly-unharnessed breasts.

"You sure don't dress like a city girl," Josie remarks, her bold gaze taking in every inch of Merri's tanned, freckled skin.

"'Cause I'm not," Merri shoots back, her own unblinking gaze just as curious. "Mark an' me grew up in Slaton."

This gets Lacy's attention. "You're from Slaton too? I just met a guy from there, he's a little older than us."

"What's his name?"

"Riley Tucker. He was on his way to some boot camp out west."

Merri gapes at her. "You know Riley? Damn, Sandy's gonna shit when I tell her, she hasn't heard from him in a coon's age."

And Lacy, who has no idea how long a coon's age might be, nevertheless feels a sharp pang of jealousy in her gut.

Her eyes go narrow. "Who's Sandy?"

Before Merri can answer her, Lisa sings out, "Lacy is jealous, Lacy is jealous," and Lacy smacks her on the arm.

"I am not! An' who the hell asked you, anyway?"

Merri grins. "Retract them claws, girl. Sandy is Riley's cousin, me an' her been best friends since our mamas plopped us in the same busted playpen together."

"Okay," Lacy concedes, "but since when does Riley have a cousin? He made it sound like no one in Slaton cared about him anymore."

Merri shakes her head so hard her ponytail whips from side to side.

"Sandy cares, an' so do I. It's the grown-ups who fucked shit up between them."

"How?" Josie cuts in, and Merri blows a stray strand of hair off her nose.

"By being stupid. Sandy's mom and Riley's mom were sisters, but mostly they got along like two wet cats in a sack. And a couple months before Riley's parents died they quit talking altogether, and Sandy's mom forbade her from being friends with Riley, or even talking to him."

"Jesus," Lacy mutters. "I woulda called him when no one else was around to hear, or wrote him a damn letter at least."

Again Merri shakes her head. "Both numbers got changed, and the two letters Sandy did write came back unopened. She figures they got intercepted."

"That's fucked," Lacy says, shaking her own head. Then, almost not wanting to know, she asks, "How'd Riley's folks die? He never said."

"Car wreck," Merri says softly. "His dad swerved to avoid a deer and slammed head-on into a tree."

"Oh, man." Lacy looks down at her toes, heart-sore for Riley all over again. "When did it happen?"

"Right before Christmas. They were on their way home from a party." Seeing the look that passes between Lacy and Josie, she adds, "It wasn't like that, okay? Rick and Annette were teetotalers, and Rick never drank at all if he was driving."

"For all the good bein' sober did him that time." Lacy leans back, resting her elbows on the step behind her. "An' I'm bettin' the accident didn't make his aunt any less hateful towards Riley."

Merri scoffs. "Are you kidding? It made her worse. Sandy heard her at the funeral, sayin' how there wasn't no deer, that Rick musta been either drunk or high, and that anyone who says different is a fool."

"Somebody should slap her!" Lisa cries fiercely, so agitated she jumps to her feet and glares at them from the bottom step.

"Sandy almost did," Merri tells her. "But she didn't wanna cause a scene in front of Riley."

Lacy narrows her eyes. "Wait a minute. You mean Riley actually heard that shit? In church?"

"Every fucking word."

"Jeez," Lacy mutters. Then, needing to change the subject, she gestures at the canvas bag still slung over Merri's shoulder. "What's in there?"

"Oh, yeah." Merri smiles, relieved to talk about her reason for coming. "These are for you."

She dips her shoulder and lets the bag hit the gravel next to her bare left foot.

Lacy pushes herself up off the steps and walks over to where Merri straddles her black Schwinn. She nudges the bag with her toe.

"These, huh? Like in more than one?"

Merri nods. "Yeah, way more. You got eleven copies, ten free ones plus the one you're supposed to get."

Lacy arches a brow. "How come that many? Last I checked, a body can only read one paper at a time."

"They ain't all for you," Josie calls out behind her. "Them extra ones are for people like your grandpa and Hawkeye who don't normally read the Gazette."

"Or like Riley," Lisa adds helpfully, and Lacy feels herself blush.

"You hush or I'll spank you," she tells the grinning girl, which earns her a mock glare from Josie.

"How come you never offer me that option? 'Fraid I'll like it?"

"I know you'll like it," she retorts. "Me likin' it is what scares me."

"Y'all play nice," Merri says, their easy banter and camaraderie making her smile.

"What if we can't?" Josie challenges, flashing her own crooked smile.

Merri appears to think it over. "Well, I ain't always nice my ownself, so maybe we should all play naughty."

Dead silence greets this, then Lisa rolls her eyes.

"We're gonna need a bigger room," she says almost to herself, and Merri – only now realizing what she just said – feels her cheeks flush.

"Man, I can't believe I just said that."

"Hey, don't sweat it," Lacy says, touching her arm in sympathy. "And welcome to my world."

"Thanks, I think," Merri replies with a wry grin. "But hey, I meant what I said a minute ago about hanging out, if y'all don't mind adding me to your crowd."

"For sure," Lacy assures her, then surprises them both by wrapping Merri in an impulsive hug.

Lisa and Josie join in, and for a while the four of them stand there in Lacy's driveway just chatting, until finally Merri looks at her watch and sighs.

"What's wrong?" Lacy asks. "We keepin' you from a hot date or something?"

Merri laughs."Not even, but Uncle Lou's expecting me back at the paper. I'd better go before he sends Mark to fetch me."

After vowing to keep in touch and sharing another group hug, they watch Merri pedal away, and when she pauses at the end of the driveway to wave, all three girls holler out a good-bye.

"I like her," Josie says when Merri is too far off to hear. "We should ask her to sit with us come fall."

"I like her, too," Lacy affirms. "But the way y'all were checkin' each other out, you an' me both know who needs to get themselves a damn room."

"You be quiet." Josie reaches down and hefts the canvas bag, then resumes her spot on the porch steps. "Time to see how bad Mark's uncle fucked with his column."

So Lacy and Lisa join her, and as Lacy reads her copy for the second time her heart fills with pride, not just for herself but for her family, and the two girls on either side of her, and mostly for Mark, whose uncle liked his words so much he didn't cut a single one.

Afternoon finds Lacy on the front lawn under the sprinkler, lying on her tummy with her bikini top untied and her wet hair gathered to one side and off her bare back.

Drowsy and content, she listens as two old ladies who aren't Mavis and Mabel catch sight of her from the sidewalk.

"Ain't that her, Ethel? The girl that reporter fella put in his new column?"

"Yeah, Lucy, I reckon that's her."

Lucy and Ethel? Seriously?

"Is she naked?"

"Course not. She's wearin' one a them new-fangled bathing suits, what the young folks call a bikini."

"Don't care what they call it, it ain't proper. And besides, now that she's almost sorta famous, shouldn't she oughtta cover herself? She has a reputation to uphold now."

I sure do, Lacy thinks as a small smile curves her lips. An' whether y'all like it or not, I'm upholdin' it just fine.