notes from the drawing table: welcome to chapter III. Sorry for the long delay. Thanks for coming back to read. This is a revised version of the one I posted the other day. A friend of mine looked at it and pointed out a few places it could be improved. I hope I made it better . . .

I just wanted to have a little fun with Lindsay and Ken Miller. This takes place a few days before chapter II with Nick. Please enjoy!

DTaC.


Life at the Top

III. Return to Reality

Lindsay, feeling a mixture of relief and anxiety, absentmindedly watched the familiar buildings of Chippewa pass as the old greyhound rolled through town. A trip that started out as an impossible-to-imagine whim of a teenaged girl, and then became exhilarating reality, now almost seemed like a dream. Her crazy two-week adventure on the magic bus with Kim and the others was over and the nightmare was about to begin. It was good to be home, but the onslaught of questions that she anticipated from her parents was not something she was looking forward to.

All the made up answers that she'd been mulling over since the bus pulled out of Milwaukee, to all the very real questions that her Mom and Dad would have, continued to assault her brain. The resulting headache made her wish that she'd never heard of the Academic Summit or the Grateful Dead. She still wasn't confident that Dave was right and that her parents didn't already know what she'd done. "I would have been better off if I'd spent the summer in my room reading," she lamented. None of that mattered now. Regretful or not, she couldn't turn back the clock and undo what was done. Lindsay Weir would have to face the music and hope for the best.

Before she had to deal with any of that though, she had to get a ride home. Since she couldn't give her parents an exact time of arrival (and couldn't take the chance that they'd see that she was arriving on a bus scheduled from Milwaukee Wisconsin,) she'd managed to convince them to let her call when she got to the bus station.

Suitcase in hand, the weary teen wandered into the bus depot and headed for the pay phone. It was occupied and there looked to be two others waiting to use it, which was fine with her. Beyond tired from the thousands of miles of driving, the late nights, the lack of sleep, the concerts and the dancing, Lindsay was nervous that she wouldn't be sharp enough to make her well thought out bus ride answers sound believable. The longer she could delay the inevitable showdown and the endless barrage of questions, the better. What she wanted to do most was make up an excuse to get away from her Mother and Father as quickly as possible so she could go and sleep for twenty-four hours – which thankfully, would happen in her own bed.

"Hey, Lindsay – how was math camp"?

Lindsay instantly recogniized that familiar voice as she turned to see Ken Miller – the stocky and acerbic smart-aleck in her group of freak friends, unkempt hair and smirk on his scruffy face, leaning on the wall of the bus station. She noted that he even did that sarcastically.

"Ken? It wasn't math camp, you dork. What are you doing here, anyway"?

"Amy's bus just left. She's going to visit her Grandmother in Cleveland. Do you want a ride or is Big Daddy Weir is coming to get you"?

"No, Ken – a ride would be awesome. The longer I can avoid talking to my parents about the stupid Academic Summit, the better. Can we go to Sackies first? I'm starving."

"Whatever the little princess wants."

"Shut up Ken. I hate when you call me that. You offered the ride. Geez. You are so stupid."

"Damn, Lindsay – so touchy. What did they do to you at that place? Let's just get the hell out of here. You know I hate the bus station."

Ken surprised her by offering to carry her suitcase out to the car, which gave her the opportunity to strike back. "What did they do to me? What the hell did Amy do to you? You have manners now? Dating Amy is the best thing that ever happened to you."

Uncharacteristically, Ken Miller had no comeback and only managed a sheepish grin.

Thankfully, Ken didn't ask any more questions during the drive across town to the restaurant about her time (allegedly) spent at the University of Michigan.

After ordering, they took their burgers and fries (which surprisingly, Ken happily paid for) and sat in the front corner booth of the sparsely populated restaurant. Although she'd had her fill of fast food while on the road, Lindsay was too hungry to wait until she got home to eat and dug in to her fries with gusto. After her own bed, her Mother's home cooking was the thing she craved the most. Somehow, pork chops and pot roast didn't sound so boring after more than two weeks away from it.

Before Ken could ask her anything, she decided to go on the offensive and find out what she'd missed since she'd left.

"So Ken – how are Daniel and Kim"? "Why not start out with another lie," she thought, disgusted at deceiving her friend and for asking a question that she already knew the answer to.

"I don't really know," he replied, mouth full of double-decker burger. "You know Daniel is working in Flint so I haven't seen much of him. I have no idea about Kim – haven't seen her at all. Weren't you two pen pals while you were gone? She's your best friend", he added, snarkily.

"God Ken, can't you ever just be nice"?

What she really wanted to do was shout: "I know exactly where Kim is! She's in Colorado, Ken. Partying and getting ready for another Grateful Dead show. You know, that band whose music you hate? I just got back from seeing them seven times and I had a blast! What do you think of that"?

Right then, she decided that she would have to tell someone what she'd really done but Ken Miller was not going to be that person.

"Riiiggghht," he choked out. "Does it really matter? Aren't they broken up . . . again? I've been spending most of my time with Amy, anyway," he added with a smirk.

"So – how's it going with you and Amy? She isn't sick of you yet"? Lindsay asked with a smirk of her own.

"Hey, don't jinx me Lindsay. I really like Amy and she really likes me."

"You don't have to worry about me jinxing you, Ken. I'm sure you'll screw this up on your own. Amy's too good for you anyway," she added, acting disinterested as she tore open another packet of ketchup. "I'm surprised you guys have lasted this long."

"Jeezus Lindz . . . when did you turn so nasty"?

"C'mon Ken – I'm just kidding," Lindsay countered with a sly smile as she polished off another ketchup-drenched fry. "That's cool that you guys dig each other. I'm just bustin' on ya. I'm glad you two are happy."

Reluctantly, she decided to ask about Nick, secretly hoping that he and Sara were no longer a couple even though they seemed happy the last time she'd seen them.

"How about . . . Nick"?

"You mean . . . is Nick still dating Sara"?

"Yeah, well – I guess."

"Lindsay, you've only been gone two weeks. Nothing in this town ever changes in two weeks. Really, nothing around here ever changes."

Lindsay glanced around the restaurant at some familiar faces and wondered if any of them had ever been out of the state of Michigan. Chippewa was a pretty boring place, mostly. Nothing exciting ever happened. The Vice President coming to the school a few months back had to me the biggest event ever. Thinking back to her just concluded adventure made her smile, and despite the fact that it was based on a huge lie to her parents, oddly proud. "Someday I'm going to get out of this town for good," she thought as she watched the lazy, Sunday afternoon traffic outside.

"I guess you're right," she mumbled, distracted.

"He's obsessed, you know."

"What"?

The burly joker's statement got her full attention.

"Obsessed? With Sara"? Lindsay asked, afraid of the answer. Nick did have the reputation for being overly focused on things, whether it was his crazy, enormous drum kit or with smoking pot or with the girls he was dating. She'd been through his smothering for the short time they'd been together.

"No. At least . . . I don't think so. With the school basketball team."

"Huh? But . . . we're not in school and Nick isn't on the team. I thought he didn't care about playing anymore"?

"Well now he does. He wants to play senior year and he won't stop talking about it. He's driving me crazy. We went to see Cheech & Chong's Nice Dreams the other night and he talked about it through the whole movie. During Cheech & Chong! That's sacrilege"!

"Well I guess it's cool if –"

"No, Lindsay – it's not cool! He goes by the park almost every day because he knows Coach Fredericks will be there with your brother's weird, skinny friend practicing. He just sits in his car and watches from across the street. That's not cool – it's just weird. Even for Nick."

"Bill? Really? Sam did say something about him trying out for the team. Is he any good"?

"Who – Nick"?

"Bill."

"How am I supposed to know"? Ken replied, raising his voice. "That's not the point! Nick is the point. He keeps telling me he's going to ask Fredericks if he can play again. You have to do something before he makes a total jackass of himself."

"Me? Why me? Why at all? If Nick wants to play, why should we try to stop him? The worst they can say is no."

"I'm telling you, Lindsay – this isn't going to end well."

Lindsay went back to eating her burger. Ken, who had already devoured all of his food, fell into moody silence.

"So – Nick is obsessed with playing basketball again but maybe not with Sara"? She wasn't sure what how to take this news. When she and Nick were dating, all he could think about was smoking pot, playing drums and becoming a rock star. He didn't seem willing – or capable – of making any changes in his life and was more than happy to drag Lindsay in to his unmotivated world, too. Now, with Sara, he'd stopped smoking pot, supposedly for good, and wanted to play basketball for the school again? "Why was he willing to do those things for her but not for me"? Lindsay knew Sara fairly well. She was extremely sweet and smart but how had she convinced Nick to attempt positive changes in his life? (Sara had to be the reason since Nick seemed incapable of motivating himself.) The thought crossed her mind that maybe Sara wasn't such a 'nice girl' after all. Maybe she was willing to do the one thing that all boys wanted – and that was go 'all the way.' Sex would probably motivate Nick to do anything. ("Like that ridiculous disco dancing"!) Thinking about it made her uncomfortable in so many ways so she quickly banished the thought from her mind. "No way - not Sara – she's not like that." It had to be something else. "Maybe Nick actually loves Sara. Maybe he never really cared about me that much"? That possibility that pained her more.

Lindsay decided that playing basketball was probably the best thing for Nick. It would give him something positive to focus on and would probably keep him out of trouble. The more he played, the less time he had to loaf around and get into trouble with Daniel and Ken. That had to be a good thing.

"Do you think that they'll let him play again? You know – since he got kicked off for pot and all," she finally asked.

"I don't know, Lindsay. I'm just telling you he's obsessed and somehow it's going to end up our problem."

"Well Ken –I think it's a good idea."

"I most definitely disagree. First – you have to keep your grades up to at least a 'C' to play sports. No way Nick can do that. He has a better chance of not smoking weed. Second – I think Nick's Father is determined to make him join the Army just like his brothers no matter how he does in school. This basketball crap will backfire and we'll be stuck with 'sad-sack' Andopolis again until his Dad ships him off to the Army. Then Nick's gonna get killed in the jungles of Viet Nam and that would really suck."

"Oh-my-God Ken – what are you – mental? Don't you know anything? Nick's brothers are in the Air Force and the Viet Nam War ended in 1975! Can't you ever say anything positive? None of this has even happened and you already have it turning into a disaster."

"The Army – the Air Force –Viet Nam – the Korean War. The War on Drugs! It's all the same, Lindsay. Nick's gonna die in a jungle! You just wait."

"The Korean War, Ken? The War on Drugs? You are definitely mental! Anyway, I think it's awesome that Nick is trying to do . . . better. If playing basketball helps him keep his grades up so he doesn't have to join the Army – great. I bet his Father will be happy for him"

"I don't know, Lindz."

"I'm sure it will all work out for him. You guys should be happy for him, too," she added as she finished the last of her fries. "We can all go to the games and cheer him on. It will be fun."

"Yeah Lindsay, right. That's exactly what I want to do – spend my winter in a cold, smelly gym full of jocks and their delusional parents. Gym class twice a week is more than enough for me. No thanks."

Lindsay shook her head and tuned Ken out but she had to admit that deep down she worried that he might be right. Not much had 'worked out' for her tall, somewhat spacey friend/ex-boyfriend since she'd begun to hang around with him and the Freaks. When things went bad for Nick, it was usually his own doing. Even after Mr. Weir handed him a stock boy job at his sporting goods store as a way to pay for drum lessons, Nick didn't follow through. "Maybe this will be different."

Lindsay's thoughts turned away from the conversation for a moment as she reached into her jacket pocket and felt the ticket stub that Dave had written his phone number on. She reminded herself to transfer it to her address book when she got home. Maybe she should completely forget about Nick, who seemed to be perpetually stuck in 'park' and concentrate on Dave, instead. He had sweetly come to see her off at the bus station in Milwaukee and the memory of their tight hug made her giddy. They definitely shared a 'connection' that a small, unintentional insult of his little sister couldn't change. Unlike Nick, Dave seemed to have it all together. The only problem was that he lived more than two hours across the state and she just couldn't ignore the fact that she still had feelings for Nick. "Nick is such a great guy when he isn't stoned." One thing she knew for sure, at some point she was going to end up having an uncomfortable conversation with Nick about their relationship. Life seemed so much simpler before she aligned herself with the Freaks. Millie – the mathletes – telling the truth to her parents – the good old days.

A thunderous burp exploded from across the table.

"Grooossssss! Ken, you are so disgusting"!

"Why I believe I have room for desert now. Shall we stop for ice cream on the way to the Weir Manor, milady"?

Lindsay hated herself for laughing at Ken's grossness and his bad, but comical English accent, but she couldn't help herself.

"Why do I even talk to you? You are so dumb." Lindsay added, fighting back more laughter as Ken continued to beam at her, like the cat that ate the canary.

The ride to Lindsay's house was much too short for her liking and her anxiety over the unavoidable encounter with her parents returned. Ken turned the motor off and got out to unlock the trunk and hand Lindsay her suitcase.

"Ok, princess, here you go. That will be $27.50."

"Hah, hah, funny, Ken. Stop calling me princess," she grimaced before punching him lightly in his chunky shoulder.

"Thanks for the ride. Wish me luck," she added before she turned to head up the driveway.

"Good luck . . . princess. I hope the King and Queen don't give you the guillotine for getting sent to math camp," he replied, while waving a mocking goodbye.

"You have no idea, Ken," she said, turning back. "They can be pretty overwhelming at times. They're going to have a thousand questions. I'm just too tired to deal with it, that's all."

"Lucky you. Sometimes I wish my parents would actually talk to me. I have more meaningful conversations with the housekeeper and the gardener than I do with them. Consider yourself lucky, Lindsay. At least your parents actually care."

Lindsay looked at her stocky, unshaven, curly-haired friend and his glum expression and felt bad for him. They all knew that The Miller's had money and that Ken was mostly raised by a nanny and that he wasn't close with his parents. Kim's Father wasn't in the picture; Mrs. Kelly was kind of crazy and had a boyfriend who was clearly a psycho. Daniel's Dad was very sick, which she knew weighed heavily on him and the entire Desario family. Nick's family was normal but his Father was extremely stern and hard. All of her friends seemed to have worse issues with their parents than she did. "Maybe I am the lucky one."

"Yeah, I guess. So, what are you going to do now that Amy is gone for a while"?

"Oh, I forgot to tell you. A new kid moved into old man Kendall's place down the street from me right before school ended. He's going to be a senior, too. He has this huge record collection – rock, punk, metal, blues – you name it. They converted that big barn into a bedroom for him. We can crank the stereo – at least – until his folks get home. His Old Man is an ex-Marine and may be worse than Nick's Dad. We are going to rock out! Wait until you hear him talk – it's hilarious."

"Ok, cool Ken – I better get in the house. My Dad is going to come looking for me with the cops if I don't show my face soon. Thanks for the ride."

Lindsay didn't know what possessed her but she leaned over and gave Ken an awkward hug, which he barely responded to other than with a 'what-the-hell' expression.

"Alright. Ok . . . Lindsay," Ken stuttered, pulling away. "Good luck with Harold and Jean. I hope they aren't too much of a pain-in-the-ass."

Lindsay watched Ken's car disappear down the street and wished she were going with him. Anywhere but inside to face her Mother and Father. She considered going over to say hi to Millie first when the thought crossed her mind that Millie would have a million questions too and it would be much more difficult to fool her brainy friend than it would be to fool her parents. Millie had this weird sixth sense that alerted her when Lindsay wasn't telling her the whole truth. Maybe that's what a lifelong friendship created.

The butterflies returned as she started up the driveway. "Maybe Dave's right and they don't know anything. Maybe this won't be so bad." Before she got halfway, the front door burst open and her Mother charged out yelling excitedly: "Harold, our little girl is home"!

The entire neighborhood must have heard.

"Oh-my-God, here we go," Lindsay thought, horrified.


under the table: Thanks for reading. Like it or hate it or just have an opinion . . . all reviews read with a smile. Thanks to my phantom editor for the notes. DTaC.