I do not own Dirty Dancing.

Chapter Forty

POV Lisa

Robbie And Vivian

After finishing with my solo, I walk over to where Baby sat, painting a Palm tree. Or rather, not painting a Palm tree. She was gazing off into space, staring at something. Her eyes flit away before I could see what. But it was just another irritating reminder that I didn't know who her secret beau was yet. Judging by how fast her gaze moved, I would say he was in this room. I was going to find out. And I didn't care how it happened.

I knew it was eating at Baby, how I'd said I was going to sleep with Robbie. It was torturous, and cruel. But it was also fun to watch her squirm, not knowing if she should let me be, or tell me about her lover.

I didn't really care about Robbie. But she needed to think I did. I just wanted to get over that fence of having my virginity gone, and get it over with already. I wasn't going to save myself for Mr. Right. If he was right for me, he would just have to accept my past. My Parents wanted me with him, and Robbie was handsome, and a Doctor... but I didn't love him. He was a passtime, and I didn't feel bad about feeling that way, because I knew he felt the same.

I through down next to my Sister. She looked up at me with those eyes of hers. Her big, innocent, brown doe eyes. Her gaze was soft, and made everyone think her a fragile, sweet, innocent girl. I had envied her eyes as long as I had lived. Especially now that I knew she was anything but innocent. "I've decided tonight's the night with Robbie," I tell her quietly, a massive grin on my face. "He doesn't even know yet," I say gleefully, and stand up.

I walk away from my Sister, leaving her on the stage. Behind me, I hear her voice. "Oh, hey, Lisa," Baby called. I grin wickedly to myself. My plan was working.

I walked down the path alongside the staff quarters, all glamour. Hand on hip, swaying as I walked. I wore my best dress, a sleeveless, low cut creation. The fabric was light and gauzy, white patterned with red roses, and trimmed in black. Nothing too fancy, just simple white high heels, a string of pearls around my neck, and a small purse. Anything in order to seduce him.

I stop in front of his door, number sixteen, which for some reason had a towel on the handle, and reach into my purse for my compact. It opens, and I gaze down at my reflection, checking my hair and makeup. Ruby red lips, perfect blush and eyeshadow, hair that had no frizz. I was good. I close the compact with a snap and stuff it into my purse, rapping on the wooden door with my knuckles. "Robbie," I call. "It's me,"

I push the door open. I was demure. I was seductive. I was desirable. I was...

I was not going to be having sex with Robbie tonight.

Inside, I am greeted with the sight of Vivian Pressman, sitting on top of Robbie, wrapped up in his sheets. Robbie lay on the mattress, allowing her to pleasure him. At the creak of the door, the two gasp, and look over to me, Vivian's gaze like that of a deer in the headlights. "Holy shit!" Robbie exclaimed.

My jaw dropped in disgust, and the door fell back, separating me from the horrid sight inside. He'd... cheated on me! With a woman old enough to be his Mother! I almost face palm myself for being so stupid, for missing the towel on the handle, the universal, "I'm screwing right now," Sign.

Aghast, I walk back to my cabin. Even though I'd never really cared about Robbie, his unfaithfulness still stung. Was I that unattractive that he would rather sleep with a middle aged, married woman than with me?

This is the question I contemplate the whole walk home, past the cabin with Dream Lover pouring out of every window, past the dance studio, and the main house. The question sticks as I climb through the window, but then it exits when I see Baby's empty bed.

I had told her that I would be gone tonight. I had given her no reason to believe I would be back until morning. And she had gone out to visit her beau, banking on the assumption that she would beat me back. And she probably would've, if Robbie could keep his pants on.

I take I off my make up, and my shoes, and she isn't back. I put up my hair for the night, and take off my dress. No Baby. I slip into my nightgown, and she still isn't back. I look under her bed, to find that her lover's navy blue umbrella is gone. Baby took it with her.

And then I sit. I sit on my bed, listening. Hoping for some indication that she's coming back. I could finally catch her. I could blackmail her into telling me about it. All I had to do was wait her out.

But then the clock passed eleven. And then twelve. And twelve thirty.

Which was when I realized that she wasn't coming back.

Not tonight. Baby wouldn't be back until morning.

She really trusted whoever she was with. It wasn't a big deal for me to spend the night at Robbie's. It didn't mean anything. But it would to Baby. She was the good girl. She wouldn't jump into bed with someone she didn't care about. And she certainly wouldn't spend the night if her feelings, her trust, didn't run deep. Unfortunately, I still didn't know who.

But I would.

Sitting there in the dark, I concocted the most dastardly of my schemes yet. I was finally going to know. It was a matter of hours.

Hi. Sorry I haven't updated this in a while, been very busy.

To those of you who haven't yet figured it out, I'm actually attempting to give Lisa character depth by writing from her perspective, one of a Daughter who just never seemed to be good enough. She doesn't have a lot in the movie, and I have always wondered just how much she knew about what Baby was doing. She would've known about Baby sneaking off at odd hours, especially at night. With the way I've written her, she's not as dumb as she looks. And maybe she has some room for personal growth here, which is only hinted at in the movie. Maybe! ;)