Chapter 2

The next day, Roger drove up to Andy's house. As he honked and waited for her to come out, he began thinking just how lucky he was to have her. To him, she was rare, precious, and he wasn't going to take her for granted for one second.

Roger watched as Andy came out, and he noticed she was yelling at someone. That someone was a middle-aged man, whom, Roger assumed, was Andy's father.

"You're trash, Andy! You're always gonna be trash!" he yelled at her.

"I have to go," she yelled back, not looking over her shoulder, as she stalked toward the car.

As she climbed into the car, the man went back inside the house and slammed the door. Tears appeared in her eyes and she looked up at Roger.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," she said.

"Was that your dad?" Roger asked.

Andy blushed. "Yes," she said bitterly. "I hate him. I want to move into the city as soon as I can. I can't wait to get out of here."

"I'm sorry, Andy," he said, leaning over to kiss her. "Where do you want to go?"

"I don't care," she said, as Roger started the car, "anywhere but here."

"OK," he said. "How about we go to the pizzeria as our first official date? Do you like pizza?"

"I love it," Andy said, as they drove away. "That sounds really good, Roger. Thanks."

Roger smiled and squeezed her hand. "You're so welcome," he replied.

An hour or so later, they arrived back at Andy's house. Roger took her up to the front steps and he kissed her again.

"Wow," she said, impressed, "that was really good."

Roger laughed. "Oh, you want good?" he asked, and he kissed her more passionately this time.

"Wow… thanks, Roger. I had a great time," Andy said, smiling up at him, as he held her close. "We should do this again."

"Definitely," Roger agreed. "Are you free tomorrow night? We could go to dinner before I play at the club."

"Sure," Andy said. "Thanks so much, Roger. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Six?"

"Six." Andy waved and went inside. Roger waited for a moment, in case he heard any commotion. When he didn't, he went to his car and drove home.

"Andy, I don't want you seeing that dirt bag guitarist anymore," Mr. Conway yelled, a few weeks later.

"Why not, Dad?" Andy asked. "He's sweet and he doesn't act like I'm some prize to be won, like Jordan did, sauntering down the hall like he always did."

"I don't care, Andy," Mr. Conway snapped. "He's a poor bastard and doesn't deserve you! At least Jordan could have provided for you, and you had to go and break up with him!"

"Dad, I really like Roger," Andy yelled. "Don't call him a bastard! He may not be rich, like Jordan is, but he's not poor, either! You're the bastard!"

Next moment, Andy reeled backward, as Mr. Conway's fist connected with her face. Tears streamed down her face and she clutched her stinging face. Before her father could do anything else to her, she ran up to her room, slammed the door shut and locked it. Then she ran over to her bed and picked up her phone and dialed Roger's house.

"Roger," she said, after he'd picked up, "you need to come get me." She sniffled and let out a sob.

"Are you OK, baby?" Roger asked. "Is it your dad?"

"Yes," Andy said, as she wiped away fresh tears. "Roger, just please come get me, OK?"

"I'll be right there," Roger said. "It'll be OK, baby." Then he hung up.

Andy hung up the phone and leaned against her bedroom door, listening for her father. She didn't hear him, so she bolted down the stairs and rushed out the door. Roger was already waiting for her. He got out of the car and pulled her close.

"Andy, what happened?" he asked, looking down at her tear-stained face.

"My dad and I were arguing about you," she sobbed. "He doesn't want me to see you. He says you don't deserve me, but I think you do, Roger. So I called him a bastard, and he hit me."

Roger pulled her closer to him and rubbed her back comfortingly. "Come on," he said, kissing her hair. "Let's get out of here. Do you want to go to the city for a while? How about Tompkins Square? It's really peaceful and quiet. You'll like it there."

"OK," Andy said, looking up at him.

"I love you, Andy."

"You what?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Roger."

"You do?"

"Yeah, I do. Come on, tiger, let's go," she said, and they climbed into the car and drove away.

Andy slowly inhaled the fresh spring air, mingled with his sweet body scent, lying on Roger's chest, on the soft grass in the park. She didn't want to ever let him go. She felt so peaceful whenever she was with him.

"Roger," she said, as he shifted slightly, "I don't want to ever leave here. I love it here. I'm so glad you brought me here."

"Me, too, baby," he said, looking down at her. "We'll stay as long as you want."

"Good," Andy said, as she kissed him. "I love you, Roger."

"I love you, too, baby."

They stayed for the rest of the day, and soon, they watched the sun set and it got dark. Andy said she didn't want to go home, so Roger got a quilt out of the back of his car and laid it down on the ground. He wrapped it around the two of them, and soon, the young couple was asleep.

When Roger woke up, he realized it was way too dark to be evening. He looked down at his watch and received a shock: 2:30 A.M.

2:30 in the morning?! Roger's brain screamed at him. Oh, shit, what is Andy's dad gonna do to her for my mistake?

Roger rolled over and shook her lightly. "Baby, wake up," he said.

She groaned and stirred. "Roger," she whispered, "what time is it?"

"2:30 in the morning," he said.

Andy sat bolt upright. "What? It is?" she asked. "Oh man, my dad's gonna kill me!"

"He'd better not, or I'll be a murderer, too," Roger said. "Baby, you don't have to keep going home to that bastard, you know. Come to my place. It isn't much, and my dad's a prick, but my mom is great. You'll like her."

"What about your dad?"

"I can handle him. Don't worry, baby, he won't lay a finger on you. He'd have to get through me first."

"I take it that's pretty difficult?" Andy asked, as they stood up and she clung to his arm.

"Most of the time," Roger said, "unless he's really drunk; then he's big, bold, and loud. But never mind that, baby, what about your mom?" he asked. "What's she like?"

Suddenly, Andy's face fell. Roger looked at her. "She died, Roger, when I was ten," Andy said, looking up at him.

Roger was horrified. "Oh my God," he said, hugging her close. "Baby, I'm so sorry. I had no idea."

"I know," Andy said. "It's OK. Only my closest friends at school, my dad, and now you, know. It's just me and my dad. She died of breast cancer."

"I'm sorry, baby. What can I do to help?"

"You don't have to do anything," she said. "I'm OK, really. It was a valiant struggle for her that she finally lost. She never gave up until the end, either. It destroyed my dad to see her so frail and weak, when she was always so strong for him. He never used to drink until she died. Then he consumed himself in it because he felt guilty. The alcohol made him violent, and… well, you know the rest."

"Baby, I don't know what to say…" Roger stammered.

"Just hold me, Roger," she said, snuggling herself close to him, as they walked to his car. "I feel secure, like nothing's wrong, when you hold me."

"So do I, baby," Roger said, as he kissed her. "Come on, we'll go to my place."

"What about your dad?" Andy asked again.

"Let me worry about him, baby," Roger said. "You just be you." He smiled down at her.

"OK," Andy said, leaning up to kiss him.

"So I finally get to meet this mystery girl you've been dating, Roger?" Mrs. Davis said, as Roger and Andy came through the door.

"Yes, Mom," Roger said, smiling. "This is Andy Conway. She's in my grade."

"It's very nice to meet you, Andy," Mrs. Davis said. "Have you lived in Scarsdale long?"

"All my life, Mrs. Davis," she said. "I'm hoping to move to the city soon, though, to pursue an acting career."

Mrs. Davis smiled. "Good luck with that," she said. "So how long have you two been dating?"

"Only a couple of weeks," Roger said.

"Well, congratulations," Mrs. Davis said. "I can see you two are very happy together."

"Thanks, Mrs. Davis," Andy said, smiling.