After they left Yvonne's dad's house, Toby took Taryn to the barn. The band rehearsed there, sometimes. When they didn't, it was usually empty. It belonged to a farmer who didn't use it much and didn't seem to mind the band rehearsing there, or the occasional teen-aged romps that took place there.
"Let me show you something," Toby said. As soon as he showed her the Port Charles Gazette and the particular article in question "Teen Charged with Drunk Driving," she knew she was busted.
"That's you, isn't it?" he said.
"How did you know?" she asked, her hopes of sexual satisfaction fading for the evening. Men – you couldn't live without them, yet you couldn't live with them.
"Because at the bar the other night, Clay Delaney's sister the writer of this article, explained how they could print the name of the juvenile but didn't out of consideration, and he said that she would be turning 18 in a few weeks anyway. That sounded familiar."
"Oh," she said.
"Is everything OK? What can you do about the charge?"
"Alexis will represent me."
"You can really keep it a secret from your mom?"
"Maybe. Maybe not. I hope she didn't see this article. She must not have. Her mind is too occupied right now. I don't think she pays attention to the news and I took the paper out of the house as soon as I saw it. She never asked where the paper was."
"Maybe you can get through it without bothering her," he said.
"I hope so. She doesn't need to worry about this right now. Alexis says there may even be a defense. A public necessity, something like that."
"The girl who wrote the article, Clay's sister, was telling him she thought the penalty should be light."
"She had to write an article about it," Taryn said, ruefully. "Nosy thing. This town must not have much happening in it if that was worth it. I couldn't believe it when I saw it."
"With reporters, it's their job to be nosy," he said.
"I was at this party, and I drank too much. Clay was there, and he said he'd drive me home," Taryn said.
"Good thing he did," Toby said. "It would have been much worse otherwise."
"I'm glad you're not upset with me," she said.
"I wouldn't be," he said.
"Good," she said, drawing a finger across his chest. He felt a bit of mistrust, like there must be more to it, but wasn't sure how to bring it up without sounding accusatory or jealous. He decided to play it cool. Anyway, she was here. Why argue with her when he could make out with her? This seemed the most sensible way to look at it for the moment.
Things started to get hot and heavy.
Things were hot and heavy, but a little cooler and lighter, between Branwyn and Jeremy. They were in the basement of his house. His parents had made a rec room down there. It was late and there was a fairly safe chance that there would be no interruptions. Jeremy knew that if his one or the other of his parents were going to check on him, he would hear the door open. They usually yelled from there. If they started down the stairs, there was still time to fix things.
Jeremy knew all this from long years of experience.
He put his arm around Branwyn and started to kiss her. He felt her return the kiss, and then he pushed his tongue into her mouth. She returned that.
He felt her whole body, and massaged her spine. She was the greatest girl he knew. No nonsense about her. Sensible. Not expecting anything ridiculous and able to stand up for herself.
He undid her shirt buttons. She tolerated this, but then moved away a little.
"Did you do it with Taryn down here?" she asked.
He laughed. She was such a straight shooter. "No, I don't have that kind of nerve."
"Where did you do it?"
"Her basement. The car. Why do you want to know? I don't care about that any more."
"You won't care about me any more one day."
"That's not true," he said.
"What's the difference?"
"Branwyn, there is a difference between you and Taryn, believe it."
"I know there is, but why would you prefer me?"
"Think about it," he said.
"I'm not doing it," she said, flatly.
"I know," he said.
"I don't believe it. You think you'll talk me into it."
"No, I think only you will decide when you want to," he said.
"Then why unbutton my blouse?"
"Branwyn, that does not mean I believe you'll go all the way with me," he said. "Why would it?"
"I don't know. Maybe it doesn't. But why do you stay with me when I won't do it?"
"Because I like you."
She had nothing to say to that. She felt like she was being pulled into something she resisted, anyway. "This is not going to work either," she said. "Pretending you are going along with me until I give in."
"As you wish," he said, grinning, and re-buttoning her shirt.
Branwyn's cousin Kara was also with her boyfriend. Kara was going through a series of radiation treatments. They made her sick. Peter was sitting with Kara, in the living room. Beth brought them glasses of lemonade.
"I couldn't drink that," Kara said. She couldn't drink it without it coming back up. But Kara was becoming rather delicate about expressing things like that.
Peter took a sip of his. "Maybe in a little while you can drink it," Peter said.
"Of course, Kara," Beth said.
"Thank you, Mom," Kara said. "I just have one more treatment. A little while after that, maybe I'll even be normal."
"You are normal," Peter said. "All normal people get sick from radiation."
Beth felt a stab of affection for her daughter's boyfriend. How did he think of the right thing to say so easily? And he was only 17.
Kara leaned her head against Peter's shoulder.
It had been hard for Kara. She'd had a crush on Peter for a long time, then miraculously, he had stopped dating Taryn Polk and taken Kara out and even more miraculously, become more attached to Kara.
It had seemed too good to be true, and of course, it had been. Kara developed a brain tumor. Fortunately, it had turned out to be benign, but she'd had to undergo surgery to remove it and radiation to make sure it was gone. She had gone as Peter's date to the wedding of Peter's older brother Zander, which would have been the height of happiness for her, except that it had been from there that she had to go to the hospital when he headache become so severe that she couldn't stand it any more. Dr. Jason Quartermaine, her pediatrician, happened to be there, and he'd left the wedding too, to take Kara to the hospital.
Since then she had received so much support and was so grateful, and at the same time felt like a burden. Mostly she felt unattractive. She hated to feel that way with Peter around, yet she had to have him around. He had been so supportive and called her beautiful anyway. He said he loved her, though Kara doubted that was really true, as he had said so first when she was awaiting the results of the biopsy on the tumor, and it could have been malignant, and it might have been going to kill her, and that meant Peter would say that just to be nice.
Kara had a hard time with missing the beginning of volleyball season, too. She was captain of the Mercy High team and this was her senior year. Academics had not been affected too badly, though. Kara was smart to begin with, especially at math, and Peter's mother, Oksana, had volunteered Zander's tutor to help Amanda Friel. Way back, Zander had gotten behind in school, and when finally reunited with his family, his wealthy parents had hired him a tutor to help him catch up. Now he was in college and majoring in education.
"The prom's coming up," Peter said. "You're going with me, aren't you?" He put his arm around her, gently. The way he touched her now was so sweet, sometimes it brought tears to her eyes. He was careful. She hated being frail, but loved him for the way he considered it without having to be told.
"No," she said, teasing. "I'm going to have my little brother take me."
"I took Taryn to the homecoming when she had a cast on," he said. "I can manage you easily."
"Yeah, I hope I'm better then. I'm tired of being tired. Sick of being sick."
"It's getting about that time, doll," Beth said. "You can go up and start getting ready for bed. When you're ready, Peter can come up and talk to you for a little while."
"I'm too tired to go up those stairs," Kara said.
Peter got up and said, "There's only one way to handle that." He picked her up and started to carry her across the room.
"Careful on the stairs, Peter," Beth called.
"It'll be OK, Mrs. Delaney," he said. "She's awfully light." He walked right up the stairs with her, easily.
"Thank you, Peter," Kara said. "That was nice. Believe it or not, coming up these stairs now can seem like such a big deal."
"It'll pass," he said. "In the meantime, my elevator service is at your command."
She hugged him. He hugged her back. "I'll send your mom up," he said. "She'll never consent to me helping you getting ready for bed. She was young herself, once, you know."
Kara smiled as he went down the stairs. That was their own joke, Kara and Peter's, because Beth had so often, in her warnings to Kara, told Kara she knew what people her age might try to get away with, because "I was a teenager myself once, you know."