Stories by Shade
Copyright © 2001
All rights reserved.

Chapter 4


"So, what was that all about?"

"Whatever do you mean?" Chloe batted her eyes in syrupy innocence.

Stopping at the crosswalk, Philip turned with a skeptical Kiriakis brow arched. "You and Belle playing footsie with Jason."

Chloe took sudden interest in a mailbox.

"Chloe…"

"Philip…"

"What are you and Belle conspiring?"

"Philip Kiriakis, you're awfully paranoid." Attempting to distract him, she ran her hands up his chest, linking her fingers behind his neck. "Have I mentioned how handsome you look in your jacket?"

"I know a play, when I hear one," said Philip, inwardly pleased that Chloe felt so easy with him. He rested his hands on her waist. "So, what's up?"

"Nothing." Her try at pouting failed miserably. "How do you know my knee didn't spontaneously react in reflex?"

"And Belle 'spontaneously' reacted with you? Something's definitely fishy, and it ain't the pier."

Now, she did pout. "I'm sworn to secrecy. It's need-to-know and you don't need to know."

"Oh, yeah?" Hands conveniently in place, he took a firm grip and tickled her. "This'll teach you to keep secrets from your boyfriend."

She gave a helpless shriek, giggling uncontrollably. "Do your worst, Kiriakis!" She broke from his grasp and ran along the street, her words broken by laughter. "I'll never tell!"

"We'll just see about that." With a wicked grin, he overtook and effortlessly tossed her over his shoulder.

Still laughing, she tried to put up a believable fight, beating his back, kicking her feet. "Put me down, you brute! You're not Tarzan. Me not Jane!"

Philip grunted, "Me with Chloe climb Chloe tree, go in Chloe room. Then, Philip have way with Chloe."

Chloe only laughed harder. "Try it, ape-boy, and Craig'll get out his scalpel."

He grimaced at the image. Nevertheless, he trotted happily with his catch down the street to her house. Puzzled passersby chuckled at young love. Philip and Chloe finally reached the Wesley walkway. Unwilling to risk his anatomy, he set her on her feet but kept firm grip of her waist.

"Spill it."

Still breathless but resolute, she smiled. "No."

He rolled his eyes and gave a dramatic sigh. "Well, I'm gonna have to warn my old buddy Jase what's coming. It's only fair."

Smoothing his jacket shoulders, she appreciated his broad frame. "It's not that bad. He'll thank us later for-" Chloe gasped and covered her mouth before she blurted out anymore. But it was too late.

"You're hooking him up!" His blue eyes glistened. "But with who?"

Her hands shielded her face in fear of providing other clues. He pinched the bridge of his nose, racking his brain for potential candidates. Philip thought back to the Pub before the sudden motion under the table and Jason's yelp. The party. The legs. Bikinis. He was stumped. Telling himself he owed it to his old buddy, Philip gently led her reluctant arms around his neck.

"Come on, Chloe…" giving his Oscar-worthy puppy dog pout, "I thought we could trust each other with anything…" slipping his arms around her waist, skimming his lips along her shoulder, then neck. She shivered, when he brushed his lips across her ear, her cheek, her eyes, nose, mouth. As Chloe melted against him, thoughts of Jason's welfare flew out the window. The kiss intensified, while his hands pressed her closer to him.

Coming up for air, he rested his forehead on hers.

A low rumble of thunder sounded in the distance.

"I guess, you'd better go in before we get soaked," he said, making no move to leave.

"Yeah, I guess, I should." His eyes shimmered a mesmerizing shade of blue. He was speechless, as her fingers traced the contours of his face. Then, she drew him into her embrace. She squeezed her eyes shut and held on. What she wouldn't give to stay in this moment forever. How long she'd waited to belong.

The first fat raindrops plopped loudly against the pavement.

Covering them both under his jacket, he hurried her to the porch.

Chloe took hold of his jacket. "Wait, I'll get Craig to drive you home."

"You mean, Craig with the scalpel?" He grinned. "That's ok." Before she could argue, he pulled her into a long kiss, fuzzying her brain. "Night, beautiful." With that, he darted out in the oncoming downpour and raced for home.



"A-Ah-aachoo!" Philip rubbed his sleeve across his nose.

The girl in the next desk handed him a kleenex and a wink. Oblivious, the teacher explained calculus derivative formulas to the chalkboard. Feeling his nose itch again, Philip gratefully snatched the tissue and sneezed into it. He blinked, when someone tapped his shoulder from behind.

"Are you ok?" whispered Belle.

He gave her a bleary-eyed nod.

The students nearly cheered, when the bell sounded lunchtime. The teacher shouted the day's homework assignment to the blackboard, while the students ran for the door.

"Gee, Philip, you don't look so good. Are you sick?" asked Belle, as she gathered her books.

"I'll be ok. I got caught in the rain last night and didn't drink what Henderson tried to pour down my throat."

"Well, I think you'd better take it easy. Big game's next week."

"I'll be ok. A couple of aspirin and I'll be fine."

"Boys," said Belle, shaking her head in pity, "Macho to the end."

They joined the hallway rush to the cafeteria.

They came upon Shawn's locker, where he was laughing with Mimi and a leggy red head. When the girl ran a teasing finger down his bicep, Belle's vision tinged green. The girl flashed him a come-hither smile before leaving with friends.

"Hey, guys," greeted Philip with a congested sniff.

"Hey, Phil. You sick?" asked Shawn, after another sneeze.

"Naw, man. Who was that?"

"That was Amanda," answered Mimi, "She was trying to recruit us for Drama Club."

"She was trying to recruit something," muttered Belle under her breath.

"We'd better get some grub, while the getting's good," suggested clueless Shawn, as they reached the cafeteria. "Where's Chloe?"

"There she is." Philip gestured to their usual table in the corner. He watched, as she politely shook her head and returned to her book, when a brave boy tried to sit with her. Ever since the Last Blast, the boys of Salem High took a new look at Chloe Lane, but Chloe was unaccustomed to such attention. So, she decided to hardly pay any mind to it. Engrossed in her new book, she paused now and again for her baked potato and soup.

Sneaking up behind her, Philip covered her eyes. "Guess who?"

"Hmmm," grinned Chloe, "Tarzan?"

Before he could chuckle, he turned his head to sneeze.

She took hold of his cold hands and turned around in concern. "Philip, are you sick?"

"Naw, babe, just a sniffle," shrugged Philip, as manly as he could. "Nothing a kiss can't cure."

She pulled him down to the seat and felt his forehead. With a satisfactory nod, she kissed the bridge of his nose. "I shouldn't have let you go out in that rain. I'll be right back." She returned with a steaming cup of tea. "You'd better drink this, because I assume that you're going to practice anyway."

Touched, he threw an arm around her shoulders and sipped his tea.

"Shut up, Shawn," muttered an irritated Belle, settling in beside Chloe.

"Seriously, we could take your hair fly-fishing sometime. That twist right there looks just like my dragonfly lure," grinned Shawn, as he set down his heavy tray with his and Philip's lunches across from Belle.

"I'm so not in the mood, Shawn Douglas." She fixed her gaze on a pole and chomped on her chicken finger.

Watching the whole scene, Mimi shook her head and sat across from Philip. She wondered how boys could be so dense. At the sound of a hearty male chuckle from two tables down, she turned to see Jason laugh, as his teammates blew straw wrappers at each other. Speaking of dense, thought Mimi, as she sighed. She turned to find Chloe studying her. Then, Chloe lifted her chin in Jason's direction, as if suggesting her to approach him. Mimi jerked her head in the resounding negative and went back to her lunch.

It was so easy for Ghoul Girl now that she was popular and hooked one of the hottest guys at school. Ever since the Last Blast, guys virtually fell at her feet. Not so for homeless Mimi. The reason people still spoke to her was because she was Belle Black's best friend. She stole another glance at Jason. He didn't even know she existed. Why would he?

"So, you guys going to the party Friday?" asked Shawn, while he inhaled his food.

"Sounds cool to me, especially if bikinis are involved." Philip wiggled his eyebrows at Chloe.

She gave his cheek a playful shove. "You're hopeless."

"Indoor pool party sounds like a blast to me," said Mimi, as nonchalantly as she could. "What do you say, Belle?"

"Sure. Why not?" She gave Mimi a bubbly smile, fighting off her heavy mood. "You're in, too. Right, Chloe?"

"I don't know…" Her boyfriend gave her an imploring puppy dog pout. "I guess I could. Bikini optional," she said, before Philip could flash his triumphant dimples.



"I don't even own a bikini," sighed Chloe later, as she swept, while Habitat workers called it a day and headed home. Certainly, she'd fantasized wearing one, she thought, remembering a vision of Philip chasing her along the beach. But reality was a totally different matter.

"Well, girlfriend, you know what that means." Belle practically rubbed her hands together.

"That I get to stay home?"

"No way. Can't let Philip's drool go to waste. Shopping spree! We'll definitely get a good deal this time of year."

"Yeah, if we can find any left, much less ones that fit and look decent."

"Think positive, Chloe Lane. We're not going to rest, until you have a bikini!"

Chloe shook her head in amazement. How could such a small person contain so much energy?

"There," huffed a dusty Mimi, as she set the toolbox in the cabinet. She smoothed the bandanna on her head. "My folks already left with the other grown-ups for dinner. I say, let's eat."

"Totally. I've got a craving for pizza," said Belle, rubbing her tummy.

"Sounds good. Make mine a veggie lovers."

"Big surprise." Mimi rolled her eyes in sarcasm.

They dusted off as best they could and headed for the pizzeria. A buff waiter served their personal pizzas with a breathtaking smile.

"I love coming here," sighed Belle, as the waiter's tush disappeared behind the swinging doors.

Chloe cut into a slice with a dainty fork and knife, while Belle and Mimi devoured their slices from cheesy tip to savory crust.

"So, Mimi," Belle said between bites, "You ready for Friday night?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"You guess?" Belle emphasized with her cheese-dripping slice. "You're not going to get Jason's attention with that attitude."

"Who says I want to? He's got the 'chick with the legs,' remember?"

"Oh, that was just boy talk. Besides, once he sees you poolside, that chick will be history."

"Great. He'll want me for my body. What a way to start a relationship."

"Oh, Mimi." Belle threw her hands up in frustration. Her eyes pleaded to Chloe for help.

Chloe sighed. "Well, we're still animals and animals have always depended on looks to spark initial interest. It's after that initial spark that makes us human."

Belle grinned ear to ear. "In other words, Mimi, if you got it, flaunt it, and let the sparks fly." The girls broke out in laughter. Belle laid a warm hand on Mimi's. "He knows you already, Mimi, not some legs chick. And if he's too slow to appreciate you, who knows? There's gonna be some new shirtless prospects."

Mimi met two pairs of encouraging eyes and smiled. "Yeah, who knows what might happen?"



Chloe found herself at the pier an hour later, after Belle and Mimi headed to .Com for CDs. For some reason, she wanted to be alone and think. She still wasn't used to the constant presence of others, friend or foe. Sometimes, Chloe thought, as she let her feet dangle over the water, most comfortable was her own company.

Fog crept over the Salem waterfront, as twilight passed. Ship bells tolled in greeting off in the murky distance. Philip always discouraged her from coming here alone, but Chloe had learned early how to take care of herself and wasn't worried. She smiled in memory of that rainy night, when he threw her over his shoulder and carried her home. How they'd laughed. How they'd kissed. Chloe closed her eyes to the evening breeze. A hum turned into a song, as her heart soared with Madame Butterfly and her tragic love.

A dark figure soundlessly climbed down from the upper deck and sat himself on a castaway crate to listen. He'd come to escape from the havoc at home. His father and stepmother were fighting again - about him. Now that he was a college dropout, his self-righteous stepmother had all the ammunition she needed to prove that he was good for nothing. She wanted him out of their picture perfect family. Meanwhile, his clueless father tried to defend his messed-up son while worshipping his wife - his true love. Brady almost laughed. His poor mother never had a chance. If only she had lived, maybe then… He caught himself, before the tears could come. Screw them, he spat. Screw them all.

When he ran the back of his hand across his eyes and found them damp, Brady told himself that the mystery diva certainly had a voice. "Madame Butterfly." Romantic and tragic. He always thought one could not have one quality without the other. His buddies back at Salem U. would rib him for decades, if they knew he listened to opera. He shrugged. He loved music. It was as simple as that. When he couldn't vent his anger and hurt in words or in sports, he could blast his music and let the sound waves cry for him. So, he closed his eyes and hoped the music would overcome the pain.

Chloe felt the last note glide over her throat. Taking a deep breath of salty air, she felt her soul soar, as it always did after the final note. She jumped, when someone applauded behind her. Scrambling to her feet, she faced a long-faced boy with eyes, blue and intense.

"Bravo, Signorina," spoke the stranger in black.

Chloe tucked fluttering strands of hair behind her ear. "Thank you. I didn't realize anyone was listening."

"I always thought she was too good for him," said Brady, referring to the opera's ill-fated lovers.

"'It's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.' Isn't that how the saying goes?" Chloe considered the surprising comment with the heavy leather jacket, standoffish demeanor, and tortured eyes. And was intrigued.

"Yeah, and I always thought it was a bunch of crock." Landing casually on his feet, he expanded his prowl to the dock's edge. "The chick would've saved herself a lot of tears, if she'd kept a safe distance."

Her brows drew together, when his words struck a chord. "She took a chance and suffered in the end. But maybe the happiness was worth the risk for the time she had it."

"And maybe it wasn't. In the end, he still let her down. She still got burned. Cut lights. Curtain. Exeunt." Brady bent to pick up a flat stone and sent it into the restless waves.

She watched the stone disappear, swallowed by the dark. Then, she turned to study him, as he looked out into the fog, lost in his own thoughts. Without a word, she climbed to the upper deck and headed toward home. She looked back once to see him still gazing out to sea, alone.

Stories by Shade
Copyright © 2001
All rights reserved.