Chapter 8: Wallflowers of the World, Unite

For some time now, Susie had sat perched on the porch railing of the frat house, sipping her beer and kicking her legs idly against the rail slats. It was a good location. She got to see a lot here on the porch. For example, when Dil Pickles and Kim Finster approached the house, she got to see them sweet-talk their way into the party. It was all very interesting. She hoped, for the sake of everyone concerned, that they didn't run into their respective brothers.

"Bored?"

Startled out of her reverie, she almost fell off, but he grabbed her arm and held her up. Once she regained her balance, Susie shot Phil a grateful smile. "A little bored," she admitted. She nodded towards the front door. "It's too loud to talk, too crowded to dance."

Phil hopped up beside her on the railing. "I'm bored too," he offered. "I feel kinda … out of place."

"So why'd you come?"

"Tom wanted to." He grinned, leaning forward to get a better look at her in the dark. She could smell the cigarette smoke in his hair and beer on his shirt, but she didn't mind. "It was supposed to be about getting Chuck to live a little. Y'know, be more social. But I lost track of both of them pretty much as soon as we got here."

Susie laughed. "Yeah, same with me and Angie. She wanted me to go with her so What's-His-Face—"

"Matt?"

"Yeah. That's the guy." She paused to offer him her beer. He took a sip and handed it back. "She asked me to tag along so Matt wouldn't get the wrong idea. About her liking him or anything. But, lo and behold, turns out she and Matt have hit it off, so my company's become unwelcome."

He let out a low, sympathetic whistle. "Rough!"

"You're telling me." She grinned and lifted her beer in a toast. "So! Here's to us, the wallflowers."

Phil shook his head and smiled. Even in the dim porch light, Susie could see his eyes crinkle at the corners. "Nuh-uh," he said resolutely. "Me a wallflower? Sure. But you? No way. You're Susie Carmichael. You come second to nobody."

She glanced down at the beer in her hands. A small smile played on her lips.

Cheerfully he continued, "I mean, you're the girl who could speak multiple languages at age three. You are one impressive chica." His grin widened as he deadpanned, "Chica is Spanish, by the way."

She thought for a minute, sipping her beer. "Phil?"

"Yeah?"

She turned to face him. "You're a goofball."

He nodded, completely unoffended.

And he was a goofball. His hair was as ratty and messy as it had always been, and his clothes hung a bit too loose on his relatively small frame. But he also had the kindest brown eyes she'd ever seen. Without thinking she asked, "Hey, do you wanna ditch the party?"

He cocked his head at her. "And go where?"

"How about karaoke?" she blurted out.

"Sounds good." He jerked his thumb towards the door. "S'alright if I try to find Tom or Chuck real quick, to tell them I'm bailing?"

"Sure thing. After all, gives me time to finish this," she explained, holding up her beer.

After he hopped off the porch rail and disappeared back inside, Susie downed her beer in one long swallow and wondered what on earth she was doing. Had she just asked out Philip DeVille? The boy who used to eat worms? Yes. Yes, she had. And worse yet, she didn't regret it a bit.

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Author's Notes: Glad folks are enjoying Dil and Kim, even if they are a bit unorthodox a pairing. Here's hoping Phil and Susie gel too. Thanks for reading!

By the way, I've condensed the first six chapters into one section, but the content's the same.