Title: Another Brick in the Wall

Author: Lea of Mirkwood

Disclaimer: When I own the rights for this movie, you will never see a disclaimer on this page. Is this a disclaimer? Yes it is. What does that mean? That's right. I don't own it.

I am SO sorry. I have had schoolwork out the WAZOO. Has not been funny. And on top of that, my damn chemistry teacher is Satan, and I swear he is Saruman reincarnated or something, only eviler. Even HCl can't stop him for long. EEEEEVIIIIILL.....but it's finally up. Short, so sorry, but there. It is there. This chapter didn't end up the way I planned it. It sort of wrote itself. They were going to go bowling. Anyway, it's after midnight, so I'll just post this and work on Kindle My Heart. Block sucks.

--- --- ---

Nell crept around the side of the car, tiptoeing around the spare tire. She leaned back and hissed, waving for her co-conspirators to follow. Katie scurried over after her and knelt by the wheelbarrow. Alec followed, grinning broadly. The three musketeers as one picked up the wheelbarrow and dumped its contents into the bed of the truck. Then they moved to the second wheelbarrow, slowly picking it up. Nell and Alec held it steady, bracing it on the side of the truck bed as Katie fiddled with the passenger lock. The door swung open and they dumped the wheelbarrow into the cab. They set down the empty wheelbarrow. Nell leaned in and, using a trowel, grabbed a trowelful of the stuff in the front seat. They dumped that in a box and took another trowelful and dumped that in the other box. Sealing it up, Alec stole off with one box and returned after a few breathless minutes. They sped off on foot away from the truck as fast as they could.

--- --- ---

Herrington High, Ohio, Winter Dance

December 19, 1998

Kit walked into the gym, keeping her chin up high. Not much in the way of class for a dance, but it was her first dance in Ohio. The crepe streamers hung like swags from the lights on the ceiling. She missed the cafeteria in Wyoming. Shaking away the unbidden thought, she stepped out onto the dance floor. They weren't playing anything she really liked as far as musical selection. Backstreet Boys had never really held much interest with her. She found them to be a little too mainstream for her tastes. Even Boy George was better, in her opinion. On a whim, she hummed a few lines of "Chameleon," or whatever that song was called. As she set down her purse, she heard the song end and cheered along with the others, cheering for the end of the song, not for the talent of the artists. The DJ was announcing the winter ball court, so she shoved her way through the crowd to the stand. The DJ's helper was fumbling with the CD drawer and checking the playlist. No one could really hear anything.

"Hey!" she hollered at the college age guy. "Can I make a request?"

"Sure!" he hollered back. "I don't know what to play next anyway!"

Kit pointed at a CD she saw immediately. "David Bowie!" she shouted. "Golden Years!"

He nodded and took out the CD. Kit grinned and gave him a thumbs up and moved back through the throng.

(Communicating with DJs is an art. "MELISSA ETHERIDGE!" "WHAT?" "MELISSA ETHERIDGE!" "WHAT????" "COME ON OVER! MELISSA ETHERIDGE!" "I'M RIGHT HERE!"

"NO, YOU FOOL, THE SONG!")

A few minutes later, once the horror of Quit Playing Games With My Heart had ended, Kit heard the opening strains of Golden Years filtered out through the speakers. After a half a minute she realized two things. One. Someone was watching her. Two. She was one of the only people actually dancing to this song. Kit turned around and glanced over at the other side of the room. Standing in the doorway was Casey in a blue button-down shirt and khakis. Giving up completely on dancing, she strode over to the other side of the room and grabbed Casey's arm.

"Let's get out of here," she muttered, pulling him out the door.

--- --- ---

Kit whooped and pressed the button on the console of her convertible.

"Isn't this great?" she yelled as the top slid back. She yanked the chopstick that was holding her hair in place from her curly brown hair and flung it up in the air. Casey grinned and loosened the knot on his tie.

"I was going to ask Delilah to dance-" he began, but Kit cut him off.

"Casey, you can't go through life like you-" she stopped. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"Well...hell."

Kit made a reckless U-turn and started speeding back to the school.

--- --- ---

"There you go, Casey. Your very own Aphrodite. Go ask her to dance."

Casey made his way slowly towards Delilah, who was standing adjacent to one of the little columns for drinks to sit on. She was laughing at something Stan was saying. She was beautiful.

"Delilah," Casey heard himself saying. She turned to look at him expectantly.

"Yes? What do you want, Casey?"

"I wondered...if you might want to dance with me," said Casey shyly. Delilah stared at him in disbelief as his cheeks reddened furiously.

"Of course she would!" blurted out Stan hastily, and placed Delilah's hand on Casey's shoulder. "Dance with him, Delilah," he said pointedly. (I love Stan.) Delilah stared at him now, shock and horror gleaming in her eyes. But Casey of course did not notice this. He somehow managed to get to the dance floor, feeling unbelievably grand with this goddess on his arm. Stan watched the two go with a shrug. Then he glanced around with a slightly resigned sigh. Catching sight of Kit in the doorway, he paused. She was yawning. Slowly she pushed a lock of her thick hair out of her eyes. She was wearing a black dress with red trim. He hadn't noticed before. It looked good. He walked over to her slowly.

"Hey, Kit," he said casually. She looked up at him with half-interest.

"Hey."

"So..."he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "It looks like your pal Casey stole my girlfriend from me," he joked. Kit raised an eyebrow.

"So? He has a right."

Stan rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. "I guess I'll have to fight him for her, huh?"

Kit shook her head, a tiny smile creeping across her lips. "Nah. You'll have to fight me. Casey'll be too busy staring at Wonder Woman."

Stan held up his hands. "Fight you?" he laughed. "No way, I surrender. But..."

Kit looked at him expectantly.

"I might just have to dance with you instead."

Kit slowly grinned. "Really?"

"Yeah. Awful punishment, isn't it?"

"Think you can keep up?"

"I think I can manage."

Stan put his arms around Kit's slender waist and she put her arms around the back of his neck. Some soft, sentimental music filtered out of the speakers as they swayed gently across the floor. As the song progressed the two leaned closer, until finally they were dancing cheek to cheek. Stan reminded Kit a little of Rob, only a bit sweeter. He felt almost the same. He was muscled like Rob, and Kit had almost forgotten how it felt to have strong arms encircling her waist, and to be pressed against a muscular chest. So long had she been accustomed to Casey's thin frame, whenever she had touched him, that she forgot what it was like. And Stan was nice. Sweet, well-meaning and nice.

--- --- ---

Casey was delirious with happiness.