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Her name was Viviane Frost.

She was five years younger than my father, had brilliantly blonde hair, an even tan, came from an oil family, and was widowed by her surgeon husband five years earlier. She had taken up a secretarial course because she was sick of sitting around her big empty house and doing the same thing every day, so she got a job as an office assistant in Oklahoma State's history department, where she met my father.

In August.

Dad had known Viviane Frost longer than I had known Two-Bit, and they had been carrying on in secret just like he and I had. Like father like daughter, I suppose.

She had come over for dinner for the first time only a few nights earlier. There I was, sitting at the dining room table, where we hardly ever ate, with my father and his girlfriend. He had finally brought her over for me to meet, and I supposed I liked her. She insisted I call her Viv. She was more easygoing, funnier, and more talkative than my father was, but I could tell that he really liked her, and Viv seemed to really like him. It made me ache for my mother, wanting to know if the way he looked at Viv was the same way he used to look at her. That at one point, he had been in love with my mother, and now he had me and Viviane.

Funny how things change. And now we were getting our nails done together.

"What color is your dress?"

"Pink," I told her. "Jerry was a good sport about it. Got a matching tie and everything."

"As he should," Viviane said, watching the nail technician do my manicure. "How long did you say you two have been together?"

"Since November. He asked me after one of our dates. He was really sweet about it." And Jerry really had been sweet – was sweet. Probably still is. But to be honest, Two-Bit had beat up a guy for me and was a much better kisser, so I had pretty much decided he was who I wanted.

I just…needed to break up with Jerry. But I would do that after prom – it just seemed rude to do something like that at the dance.

Viviane leaned in and gave me a sneaky little smile. "And you really like this boy?"

It occurred to me that this was the kind of conversation my mother might have been having with me if she stuck around. (It also occurred to me that Viviane had a striking resemblance to my mother, and I realized that my father had a type, which was a horrible thing to think about.) Dad had suggested the two of us get our nails done together, get to know each other, bond, and while I thought Viviane was nice and all, the whole thing made me feel strange. I couldn't very well tell her the truth about what I was feeling – I wouldn't want her going back to my father with it.

"Yes," I lied, plastering on a smile. "Yes, I do like him."

xXx

I felt truly beautiful for the first time in maybe…ever.

My dress was perfectly pink, my hair was tamed by the hairdresser Viviane found, my skin was clear, and I knew for a fact that at least for that night, I was beautiful.

But at the same time, I felt empty. I wasn't going to that dance with the boy I wanted to be going with. He would never go to something like prom, I knew that, but it hurt to know, hurt to acknowledge it. There was the lingering knowledge, too, that the night could go wrong.

Very wrong.

Terribly wrong.

Vickie would be there, no doubt. She was going with George Washburn because of course she was, he was her steady, but we both knew a thing or two about going to dances with boys we hadn't been loyal to. Who we didn't love.

We could have ruined each other that night.

It was all so absurd, and all so true, that it was almost funny.

"Jerry is here, Bridget!"

Showtime.

I made a slow descent down the stairs, careful so as not to trip on my heels, and I watched as Viv, Dad, and Jerry's eyes traveled up the stairs, up from my feet to the top of my head. Viviane looked pleased with the ensemble, my father looked vaguely nauseas but masked it with a smile, and Jerry grinned so hard I thought his face might split in half.

"You look great," Jerry beamed, and I smiled back at him.

"Thanks, Jer," I said, blushing as he pinned my corsage and I pinned his boutonniere. I heard my father whisper something in Viviane's ear, asking her how much my hair and nails cost, and she waved him off. She had oil money – the cost was nothing to her, and really nothing to us, either. My father just does not – to this day – understand what the cost of beauty is. He still took pictures, though, and told me I looked lovely, even if he didn't understand why I kept having to buy new dresses.

"You ready to head out?"

I nodded, but I had a bad feeling. "Let's go."

xXx

Prom was held at the country club – not the one Dad and I belonged to, but yet another one, because a city can never have too many country clubs for its socially elite set. There was a live band, the entire ballroom was decked out, and everyone was dressed to the nines. It was the most glamourous school dance I had ever been to before, but I could hardly enjoy it because I was worried about what Vickie's next move would be.

I tried to ignore the bad feeling in my stomach. Jerry and I danced together and we talked to our friends and I did my best to pretend as if there was nothing on my mind except how positively wonderful the whole evening was.

"You look fantastic," Cherry told me between dances, as the two of us took a minute away from dancing and our dates to talk to Marcia, Missy, Penny. Vickie was nowhere to be seen, however, or George Washburn.

"Thanks," I beamed, trying to mask my concern. "You all look great, too. Have any of you seen Vickie tonight?"

Missy, Marcia, and Penny all shook their heads, but Cherry nodded. "Yeah, she's here with George. I don't know where they're at right now, though. Why?"

Vickie could have been anywhere, telling everybody about me and Two-Bit. I was less concerned about what everyone else would think as I was about Jerry finding out – I needed to break up with him first…still. But I had already bought my dress, and Jerry had rented his tux, so it had just seemed like a bad move to break up before prom, and you can't go to prom without a date – even Cherry had gone with a friend. So I had to wait.

Bullshit reason, I know, but I'm a master at making my own problems.

I was dancing with Jerry again when I spotted him – not her, him. Over Jerry's shoulder, I saw Two-Bit in a sports coat, chatting to some guy I didn't know, both of them laughing about something. I didn't see what could be so funny, and I also didn't see how Two-Bit could be there – had he snuck in? Ended up coming with a date? I dug my nails into Jerry's back, and he flinched.

"You okay, Bee?" He frowned, and I hated that he was so genuinely concerned. Just because I figured out that he wasn't the one for me didn't mean I didn't like him, if that makes any sense.

"I'm alright," I assured him, "promise. Just…I'll be right back, okay?"

"Um…in the middle of the song?" Jerry asked, but I was already on the move, leaving him in the middle of the dance floor.

I weaved my way through the crowd until I found Two-Bit and his buddy standing along the fringe, still laughing it up. Two-Bit made eye contact as I strode towards them, and he clapped his friend on the arm and said goodbye.

There I was, standing against the wall with Two-Bit Mathews in the country club ballroom, which was the last place on earth I ever expected to be with him. It felt like he was crashing in on my world – but I had crashed in on his a time or two before, so I supposed we were just going to have to get used to seeing each other in new spaces.

I was about to ask him what the hell he was doing there, but as soon as I opened my mouth, he cut me off and said, "Snuck in. Don't even think about questioning it. Vickie just ducked into the little girls' room. Figured you might be looking for her."

I blinked. "Did you come here to…what, monitor her?"

"Sure," Two-Bit shrugged, "if you wanna put it that way. I just thought you might wanna know, considering what we're worried about what she might do, and all."

"What, and I'm supposed to confront her alone?"

"Can't exactly follow you into the ladies', hon." Fair point. The last thing we needed was for Two-Bit to get arrested. "Go do what you gotta do."

Fuck.

I didn't want to do it. I didn't want to go in there and confront Vickie Harper. Whatever happened, I knew our friendship was about to end – this would be the final nail in the coffin. Vickie had made me, I knew that – but I wasn't about to let her unmake me. That sounds stupid, yes, but I was seventeen and image conscious, just like Vickie was. But I wasn't about to let her make a fool out of anybody – not me, not Jerry, and not Two-Bit.

"You look beautiful, by the way."

That was the last thing I had expected him to say, but once he said it, I realized how much it meant, coming from him. It was true that I felt that way, but…it was different, hearing Two-Bit say it. He had never said anything like that before, but when he said it then, I knew, somehow, that he had already said it to me in a million different ways.

"Thanks," I whispered, blushing. "You clean up alright, too." And I had found a million ways to say it to him, too.

Two-Bit gave me a lopsided smile. "So they say. Go on, now. Find me later, yeah?"

Right. Showtime.

I stepped into the ladies' room and found Vickie, standing alone at the sink, gripping onto the counter and staring at the mirror. For a moment, I just stood there and watched her, waiting for her to notice me, but I realized after a few seconds that she wasn't going to snap out of her trance by herself, so I cleared my throat and announced my presence.

"Were you going to tell everybody about Two-Bit and me?"

Vickie closed her eyes and took a slow breath in, and a slow breath out. Then she glanced around the room to make sure we were well and truly alone before asking, "Were you going to tell everybody about me and Winston?"

I shook my head. "No. No, Vickie. I swear it. Not about him, and not about the baby."

"Well, then." Vickie gave a short, sarcastic laugh. "Guess you're a better woman than I am, Bee Stevens. You win." She was shaking. I felt sorry for her. I felt sorry for everything we had put each other through. "You're the luckiest girl in Oklahoma."

I looked down at my shoes. "Why didn't you tell me you dated Jerry last year?"

"What?"

"Why didn't you tell me you dated?" I stared at her defiantly. "Why didn't anybody tell me?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes. Yes, it does matter. Because you felt humiliated by him, didn't you? You wanted to make him feel that way, too."

"And who told you that, hm? That hood you sneak around with?"

I crossed my arms. "As a matter of fact, yes, Two-Bit did tell me. Why didn't you?"

Vickie considered me carefully as she worked her jaw. She looked amazing, and even for as good as I felt about how I looked, no matter how many compliments people gave me, I knew Vickie looked better. Her green dress really made her look like the jealous bitch she truly was. "I didn't tell anybody about you and Mathews – yet," she began. "And I didn't tell you about me and Jerry because that would have just complicated things. I don't know why Jerry didn't tell you – probably just doesn't like to talk about anything having to do with us. And the girls didn't tell you because they know better than to talk about when we used to date." She rolled her eyes. "He really wanted Cherry over me."

"So? She ended up with Bob," I pointed out. "And you're with George now. I still don't get why you set us up."

"Oh, Bridget, I know you're not this stupid. I thought he'd eventually be humiliated by the downgrade, dating you. Because you're decently pretty, I guess, but you were just so…new, and awkward, and you weren't popular enough to be dating a guy like him. But then everybody started to like you, and he came to my party only because I said you would be there, and you won that stupid crown at the winter dance…

"Well, turns out dating you ain't quite so embarrassing. I guess that's my fault. I like a project, and Missy brought me a perfect one in you without even knowing it. Turns out you fit in real well around here, and Jerry just ate you up." She grinned, like the cat that caught the canary. "Then I find out about you and Two-Bit. It wasn't even one thing – it was a lot of little things, like the way you two ogle each other and how you act whenever he gets brought up.

"So, I figured that if dating you is so great, then Jerry would be absolutely heartbroken to find out you were sneaking around with Mathews. I mean, one of Two-Bit's best friends killed one of Jerry's best friends. That's bad enough, but no one likes to be scorned in love – not him, not me. I wasn't going to let him get away with humiliating me like that, wasting my time, no way. The Barbies were just the beginning – I'm sure Two-Bit told you about that, too. You messing him around is just the cherry on top. That way, Jerry would get humiliated by you for the same thing he wanted to do to me, everybody realizes you're not so great, and you get stuck with that idiot. Great, right?" Vickie laughed. "Did you know Two-Bit used to be half in love with me? It's true. If he weren't a greaser, I would consider it, but he is, and for me to overlook that, well…he'd have to be Dallas Winston." She darkened. "And no one is him. Not Two-Bit, not Jerry, not Randy, not Bob, and certainly not George."

Even Vickie seemed surprised by what she said. When she finished her rant, she stood there and stared at me bug-eyed, and I was certain that the primary reason for her shock wasn't so much her own cruelty, but that last little confession.

"You loved him," I breathed.

She looked about ready to smack me. "No I did not."

"Yes, you did," I said, and a few more pieces fell into place. "You loved Dallas Winston, didn't you?"

"No," she whispered bitterly, in a way that suggested that she absolutely did. "Sex is not love."

"It's okay if you did, Vickie. But just because he's died and you've decided you have to settle for George Washburn doesn't mean you should try to humiliate me for doing the exact same thing you did."

She couldn't even look at me when she said, eyes welling up, "You just get everything you want, don't you?"

"And you don't?"

"You know what I mean!" She shrieked, and then immediately composed herself. "It's not fair. I did everything right, Bridget. Everything. All the right friends, all the right clubs, all the right people, all the right guys. But I still wanted him, and what does he do? He dies. He dies, and leaves me to pick up the mess he left behind – left inside me. Alone. And you know what the worst part is? I still wish he was here! I still wish Dallas was here, even if he never did care about me. And the other worst part is that you just get to waltz down here and get everything you want, including the guy. Two-Bit's still here, you get to have him, and he actually wants you." She threw up her hands. "I did everything right, and none of them wanted me. Jerry didn't want me, Dallas died, and George only wants me because he's too stupid to know he shouldn't."

Vickie pressed her palms to her eyes and let out a single sob, and I just stood there stupidly, not knowing what to say to any of that. We were so young, and we had been through so much, and I wish I had known then to tell Vickie that she didn't need to figure all of it out right then, that she had time, and there was someone out there who would actually want her for her. I would probably have to fight to add that it might help if she were a bit nicer, but I would still want her to know that. I still wanted to help her.

But I didn't say that because I didn't know it yet myself.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "Vickie, I'm really sorry. But, please – "

"I'm not going to tell," she spit, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, her makeup running down her face. "Do whatever you want, Bridget. Just…god, why him? Of all the people in the world, why did it have to be Dallas Winston?"

I didn't know. I'm not even sure she knew, and to be fair, I hadn't known Vickie felt that way about him – I thought it had just been sex. She and so many others were the reason I had been resistant and confused about liking Two-Bit, they were the ones that had created the problem, but I still felt sorry to see how mixed up she was about all of it, even if it was a problem of their – our – own creation.

"Vickie…we can forget this. We can forget about the secrets, and we can just be friends, and we can figure this out. Okay?"

She seemed to consider it. Vickie studied me carefully, and for a moment, I thought she was going to take me up on my offer and we could be friends again – maybe even better friends than we were before, not having to worry about all the secrets and blackmail. I wanted that. I wanted to start over.

"Thanks, Bridget, that's sweet," Vickie said, "but the thing is, is that I am going to be so fucking jealous of you for the rest of my life, and I don't think I can put up with that." She sniffed and adjusted her dress. "I have to go find George. I hope the rest of your night is nice."

And that was that. Vickie took one last look at me, then one last look at herself in the mirror, and she left. I stepped out a few moments later and found Two-Bit standing right where I left him, watching everything. When he saw me, he raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

"I think we're good," I said, not really feeling it, though. "Nobody's telling anybody anything."

"That's good, then, right?" Two-Bit said, but even he didn't seem to be buying it. "Right?"

I shrugged. Maybe no more secrets would be spilled, but everything still felt wrong. "Right," I still said. "I, uh…I have to go find Jerry."

"Right," Two-Bit breathed. "And I need to beat it the hell outta here – even I feel like I've overstayed my welcome." He watched me carefully. "You okay, Bee?"

I nodded, thinking about how I still had the rest of the night to go, still had more dances to dance with Jerry, and would probably have a lot of explaining to do to him and my friends. "Yeah. I will be."

xXx

I knocked on the door to Dad's study. "Come in," he said, and I found him sitting at his desk reading. His semester had ended, and while he always had work of some sort to do, he was taking some time to relax. His first year at Oklahoma State had been a smashing success for him, both professionally and personally, and he was basking in it. That meant a lot more dates with Viv, and since we had met, she had been coming to the house to visit more frequently, and I had the feeling that the two of them were getting pretty serious about each other.

But I didn't want to think too much about what that meant.

I sat down in the leather chair next to his desk. Dad hadn't looked up yet, still absorbed in his book. "Daddy?"

"Yes?"

He was still only half paying attention. I rolled my eyes and did something I had never done before – I took the book out of his hands, shut it, and slammed it down on his desk. Dad stared at me like I was a crazy person, an insolent child, but I wasn't in the mood for his inattentive bookworm act. "Daddy, I need to talk to you."

Dad sighed, grumbling, "You could have just said that instead of being rude." He cleared his throat. "What's on your mind?" The It better be important was left unsaid.

"Do you remember when I asked how you knew you were in love with Mom?"

He stiffened. "Yes. I do."

"Well…I'm thinking about breaking up with Jerry. About how to break up with him. Because you were right, when you asked if I thought I was in love with someone else. Because I think I might be."

"You do?" I nodded. "I thought you really liked him."

I shrugged. "I mean, he's a good guy. But I don't want to be with him. I have to break up with him."

"And you're…looking for advice on how to do that?"

"I don't know," I mumbled, "maybe?"

"Well," he sighed, "however you do it, whatever you say, whenever you say it, you need to be direct. You need to do it yourself."

Dad seemed particularly passionate about that, and I knew why. I knew why. He wished my mother had at least told him why. He wished she would have told him herself instead of just leaving in the middle of the night with no more than just a note saying she was leaving.

"It makes me feel bad," I admitted. "He's nice, and it's been…nice."

"Well, don't settle for nice, honey," he laughed, and the endearment and sudden shift in tone surprised me. "Bridget, sweetie, you can't do that to yourself. I told you that, remember?" I did remember. Don't stay with someone you don't love, he said. "Who is this other boy, anyway?"

Oh, god. If I had been nervous about my father meeting Jerry, I was about a hundred times more anxious about bringing around Two-Bit. Jerry wore khakis and button-ups and sweaters; he was the starting quarterback and got good grades and never got sent to detention. Two-Bit had been arrested several times, drank a lot, smoked and swore, had long hair, and looked about ready to die when he wore a sportscoat just to sneak in to prom. Dad didn't care about money, but he did care about how people behaved.

But they would have to meet. They would have to. And they were just going to have to find some way to make it work. Just…the thought of the two of them meeting, my father and Two-Bit, was ridiculous. They were just so different. Two-Bit had scars, and got into fights…and he had been wrapped up in everything that had happened in the fall. I was sure Dad wouldn't be too happy about that particular detail.

Or maybe they would just talk baseball.

"You don't know him," I hedged.

"Did you meet him at school? The club?"

I almost laughed outright at that. "Um…we have a class together. History."

He perked up. "I see. Well, what's his name?"

And that's how I realized that I had never learned Two-Bit Mathews' real name.

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