Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies, Disney does!
AN: Okay, so I need to warn you that this chapter is a bit intense and more mature than the previous chapters have been. I don't want to give anything away, but be wary when reading.
The hotel ballroom was decked out to the max with balloons, streamers, glitter, and almost any other kind of ornamentation one could think of. The banner that hung above the entrance read "Heaven on Earth," the prom theme that the class had elected. The floor itself was crowded with boys and girls jumping and gyrating to the music blaring from the speakers. The boys were all in their tuxedos and the girls looked as though they had spent the entire day primping. Most of them probably had.
I saw her in the middle of the crowd. She looked absolutely stunning in her dark red halter top gown. The top swooped down below her neck showing off a good amount of cleavage. The back of the dress fell to right above the bra line showing off her beautifully tanned back. The bottom of the dress fell elegantly about her, hugging slightly at the waist and hips, showing off her hour-glass figure. From the bottom hem I could see two silver shoes peeking out, glittering. Her hair was pulled up with a single tendril falling out into a curl. The tiara she wore on her head sparkled almost as much as her eyes did. Toping off the ensemble was a single sliver bracelet with a heart charm, a butterfly charm, and a martini glass charm.
I would have enjoyed the sight of her if she were not currently in the arms of Brent Keller, known to his friends as Blink because of his ever present eye patch. Her arms were encircled about his neck and his were wrapped tightly around her waist. Her head rested on his shoulder as they swayed to the music. I spotted his right hand make its way up her back and softly begin stroking the exposed skin.
I had to get out of there. Twelve years of pent up desire was threatening to erupt.
I sprinted through the doors and out into the lobby, passing the teachers who had set up out there to collect tickets and make sure everyone was tastefully dressed before entering the dance. I burst through the double doors leading outside and clumsily traipsed down the steps. When I reached the bottom step, I sat down on it, removing my jackets and loosening my tie. Coming here tonight had been a bad idea.
I don't know how long exactly I sat there. I was in a trance, thinking about her, reliving every moment I'd had with her. Rethinking every time I caught sight of her and how it brought a strange feeling to my stomach, how it began bringing a strange feeling to my groin. I thought of the first time I had seen her, that first day of school. She had caught my eye and smiled at me for the first, and so far last, time.
I was so lost in thought that I didn't hear the doors open and the clacking of heels as someone descended the steps.
"Gotta smoke?" a voice asked nearby. I turned to look and saw her standing there. For the second time in my life she had actually acknowledged my presence! It was different now, though, than it had been. She didn't look at me with a sparkle in her eyes and a smile on her face; she looked at me with indifference in her eyes and a grimace on her face.
"Well, are you going to answer me?" she asked. I realized I had been staring at her.
"Sorry," I managed to choke out, "I don't smoke."
She rolled her eyes and snorted. "Fine. Can you give me a ride home then?"
"You're leaving the prom? What happened to your date?"
"I caught the fucker groping Betsy Anderson," she spat out in the direction of the hotel. "That fucking bitch has been stealing my boyfriends for as long as I can remember." She took a deep breath in an effort to calm herself. "So are you going to give me a ride or not?"
My heart was pounding wildly in my chest. She was asking me for a ride. She was going to be in my car, sitting only inches away from me. "Of course!" I blurted, blushing at my enthusiasm.
We walked silently to where I had parked my '95 Nissan Sentra. When she saw the car she grimaced, obviously used to riding in better vehicles. Still, she slipped into the passenger seat with no verbal complaints. I pulled out of the parking lot, wishing someone had been there to see her and to see that she had voluntarily gotten into my car and was voluntarily sitting next to me.
We drove through the city toward our town. I was silent because I was so nervous. She was silent, though I think it was more because she didn't consider me worth the effort it would take to speak. In stead, she opted to pull out the flask she had concealed in her clutch and take a long swig from it. I couldn't be sure, but I think it was vodka.
Unable to take the silence any longer I said, "Can you believe only twelve years ago we were sitting in Ms. Irving's class and now we're going to be graduating?"
She glanced at me from the corner of her eye. "You were in Ms. Irving's kindergarten class?" she asked with no actual interest.
"Yeah, we sat kind of near each other."
"Mm," she replied, obviously tired of the subject. She took another swig from the flask. "What's you're name again?" she asked.
"Josh. Uh, Hauser. Josh Hauser," I stammered.
She gave a short laugh. "Oh yeah! Didn't we used to call you 'Specs' or something in grade school?"
My face reddened at the nickname I had been given in 5th grade that had followed me through my entire high school career. "Yeah, you guys still do."
She took a long swig from the flask and then started giggling. "God, weren't you the one that Bobby Miller gave the swirlee to and you, like, wet your pants or something?" By now she was laughing, practically howling at the memory.
"I didn't actually wet my pants," I said softly, my ears beginning to burn. "You know," I said, cutting in, trying desperately to get her to stop laughing, "I've always had a bit of a crush on you."
That worked. She looked at me, her eyes wide. "Wait, what?" she asked, an incredulous tone to her voice.
"Yeah," I said, a small grin forming on my lips. "I remember on our first day of kindergarten you smiled and waved to me and I thought you were so pretty."
She was silent for a moment. She downed the remaining alcohol in the flask and placed it back in her bag. "I don't remember doing any of that stuff," she muttered, her words a bit slurred. "Probably a fucking wet dream you had or something."
"I still do like you," I said, desperately hoping she would be moved by it.
She was moved, but not in the way I had hoped. She began convulsing with laughter, tears forming in her eyes. "Me? You like me?" She threw her head with a howl. "What? Do you expect me to now confess that I've always had a secret love for you or something? Sorry, Jason or Jerry or whatever your name was. SPECS!" She screamed with a laugh. "God, you're such a geek. Like I'd ever give you the time of day." Her head was tilted back and her eyes were misty. Her body was swaying back and forth a bit.
During her tirade I had felt my face grow redder and redder. My ears and cheeks were completely on fire and my stomach was doing flip flops. These weren't the same flip flops that I usually had when I saw her. These flip flops were violent and angry. My hands tightened on the wheel as I pulled to the side of the road. We were in a rural area that was between the city and our town. I violently jerked the car into park and turned off the engine. She didn't notice that the car had stopped and her body continued to sway. I simply stared at her, emotions rolling around every which way inside of me. Love. Lust. Embarrassment. Anger.
She looked over at me, my face red as a tomatoes, my hands stark white on the steering wheel. "What, are you angry little Specs?" she asked in a low teasing voice.
My hand shot out and slapped her harshly. Her head snapped to the right, hitting the window harshly. When she turned back to me her eyes were wide her mouth agape. Her face was red where I had struck her and she gently touched the area with her fingers. "What are you—?"
I cut her off, grabbing her arms and shoving her roughly against the door. She shrieked, though it was a feeble one, thanks in part to the vodka running through her system. Her body was limp and her hands were swatting haphazardly. Every blow she gave, though, was weak and they grew weaker as she went on.
I pressed harder on her body and trapped her wrists above her head. Holding them in place with my right hand, my left hand grabbed at her stockings and underwear, yanking them down with a force I didn't even know I had.
"Please," came a soft whisper, "I…don't…no." Her voice was trembling and slurring now. She had stopped rebelling physically, her body tired and strained from the fight.
Paying her and her protest no heed, I thrust in. Her scream was louder now, but I knew it wouldn't be heard.
When I had finished with her I released her hands. They fell limply to her side and she made no effort to move. Her breathing was raspy now and her eyes looked at me with terror. I removed the charm bracelet from her wrist and held it up, watching it gleam like a trophy or medal. I placed it safely in my pocket. Then I gently leaned over and kissed her softly on the mouth. She made a soft noise, but didn't stop me. Had it been under other circumstances, the kiss would have been sweet and romantic.
When I came back up she looked at me. She wasn't crying or trembling and her eyes held no terror or fear in them. She looked almost relaxed as though she had accepted her fate and accepted what would happen.
I wrapped my hands around her slender neck, my thumbs right on the trachea. I gently applied pressure, my eyes never leaving hers. She simply lay there and allowed it to happen. As her eyes began to glaze over I looked down sweetly at her and whispered, "I love you."
AN: So…who was actually expecting that? I was going to write an epilogue for the piece, but I feel this is a much more powerful ending and an epilogue just isn't needed. A big thank you to my loyal readers and reviewers. I hope this chapter hasn't turned you off of the piece or anything.