Chapter Thirteen: Date Night

"Hey Spencer!" Carly was drying her hair when she came to see her older brother.

"What's up kiddo?"

The artist was sitting on their couch, patiently waiting for her to join him. The Shays sat in silence for a moment, considering what they were about to talk about.

She smiled. Her brother was always so nice, and he made sure she was okay. They always had a talk before she went out with someone. Carly had already told him all about Griffin, so this was more about standard protocol than it was some forced conversation.

"I should be back by ten tonight," She sighed as he tried to glare, "C'mon, I really like this guy! You always let me out later before!"
He nodded, agreeing, "Yes, because those were sweet guys, and Sam could put the hurt on them. What do you know about this Griffin guy? He could be a serial rapist!"

His sister rolled her eyes, "Now you're being ridiculous."

They sat together comfortably for a minute, then something that had been bugging her for a while came to mind. She thought about ignoring it, but realized that Spencer was here for this kind of stuff.

"Spencer, what if, like, a girl… likes two guys at the same time?"
He laughed, "That kind of makes her a slut, right?"
The awkwardness filled the air.

"Uh, I mean, why do you ask?"

She looked down, "I'm not so sure what I want right now."

The girl went into a rant that is so all-encompassing that to write it down would take a very, very long time. (I'm lazy, so what?)

Basically; she wants Griffin, but she also feels something for Freddie.

Spencer listened patiently for his turn. Finally, he spoke, "Ideally, the boys should respect you enough to give you time to sort out your feelings. But let's be honest here; that's not what's going to happen. Talk to Griffin tonight and think about whether or not you really want him. Maybe you want Freddie, or maybe this is just a product of your concern for him. I was once stuck making art only about cows because I ran out of milk. That does not make my muse a bovine! Just… think about what you want, and come to a decision when you're ready."
The smile on her face told him he did well. She hugged him, "I think I'll be ready soon enough!"

He patted her back reassuringly, but inside he was terrified for her. This Griffin guy felt like bad news to him.

"I've got to go get ready. Sam'll be over later so we can talk about what happened, or didn't happen tonight!"
She darted up the stairs while he freaked out, "Whoa! Let's keep a lot not happening things happening! Or something, I've not really thought this through, but less is more Carly! Carly?!"

Carly giggled to herself. Spencer was already beside himself with worry. Of course, there was no way that he could intimidate Griffin. Her boyfriend was too big, and tough, and hot! She went to her drawer to pick out her clothes.

This afternoon, she had been wearing humorous underwear, a bra that read 'left' and 'right' which was part of a combo with a pair of panties that read the same thing on the buns. It was funny to her, but definitely not the kind of material she wanted to wear out.

Carly was not sure what exactly she wanted.

She knew what Sam would say, "Yo, don't wear nothing! If ya don't, you can't make a mistake! 'Sides, it's what I would do!"

Not the correct choice in any universe. Spencer would probably want her to wear one of his gag gifts, but she had already vetoed that idea.

Then there was Freddie. It was like a horrible love triangle, where two boys were fighting over her in her head. She imagined him, standing behind her. Just for fun, the brunette loosened the robe, letting it fell sensually around her. His opinion would help her. If he was here, he would select… this red pair. They were silk: sexy and comfortable, yet not at all slutty. Perfect.

She put them on, and then spent the next three hours going through her closet. Her final outfit was perfect; dark jeans black lines streaking down the sides, a black shirt and deep purple jacket. High heels gave a necessary height booster for kissing, and knee-socks. It was not her most alluring outfit, but it was passable for a first date. She did not want to come on too strong.

In the hallway she ran into Freddie, "Hey stranger!" She called to him brightly.

He looked at her, a hint of a smile on his lips, "Carly, good to see you again."

Relief flooded her. Somehow, after everything that had happened, Freddie, her Freddie, was still in there. And if she knew her Freddie…. He was relaxed as her arms encircled his body. She melted into him. This time, for her reassurance not his.
There was not enough time for them to catch up. So she hugged him and told him to come back around.

Neither of them mentioned her date.

She was upset to find Spencer and Griffin glaring at each other, "Let's get something straight, you piece of trash, my sister deserves much, much better than you, as a matter of fact, you don't deserve to even talk to her, but she's made her choice. And I respect that. So for now, I'm not going to interfere, but the second, the millisecond that I hear you mistreating her, I will pull the plug on you. I may be a nice guy," He paused here, and let his voice drop without emotion, "But you ought to know something; nice guys are much, much tougher than bad boys because we know what we fight for."
Griffin was staring silently with his arms crossed. Spencer mimicked his opponent.

Carly sighed, tromped down the stairs, and took off with her date.

Chapter Fourteen: A Silent Presence

Carly laughed wildly as she tumbled into a chair. She could not remember the last time she had this much fun. Well, okay, she had dated a lot of boys while Freddie was gone, but for some reason, each and every one of them fell short in her eyes.

She had been called everything from picky to downright stuck-up, but the truth is, she was not sure what she wanted, and so she just kept looking in all the wrong places.

Griffin was grinning, yet clearly not as wildly joyous as his date.

"What's wrong, tough guy?" She poked him in the stomach, "Afraid of smiling?"
He chuckled and started poking her in the stomach too. She laughed again and tried to squirm away. He caught her with one arm and pulled her body closer to his, "I have you now!"

"No!" She squealed with joy. He positioned her and came in for a kiss.

Wow, just wow… she melted with it. The date so far had been pretty good. He picked her up on a motorcycle and drove her to a restaurant. They had some food and he decided to dance. Carly's moves were a bit outdated, so she decided to learn on the fly. She and Sam had done a bit of practicing when they became teenagers.

A new song came on; one the girl was familiar with. The singer was a female declaring her intense mating rituals for public enjoyment. Carly pulled her date to the floor and began.

She and Sam were dancing like little girls. But fell on the floor laughing.

"Oh Sam, I love dancing with you!"

"Me too, but don't you think we're getting a little old to dance like this?"

Back on the date, Carly began. The intro had finished and the singer started by describing, 'her boy' an intense lover whose focus was to have sex with her continuously. Carly let her hands drift over Griffin a bit. When the date began, he was surprisingly physically introverted to her touch. Of course, he had plenty of scars from fights, but this was his girlfriend. Why draw back from her?

Sam helped her friend back to her feet, "C'mon, if we want boys, we have to learn how to dance the right way; like whores."

Carly shook her head, "C'mon, dancing is for fun!"

"If a boy danced like that with you, you'd break up with him."

The brunette nodded, "Fine, what do you want to do?"

A hand smacked an answer into her behind, "Learn how to dry hump without it being too obvious."

The beat picked up and Carly went to work with her hips. As unattractive as it was to admit, this sort of thing was hard to do. She was glad that she had practiced with Sam.

Griffin was already enjoying the show. He pulsed to the beat, watching her every move. She came in close, grinding against him like a stripper.

"Carly, watch me," Sam put her arm on Carly's neck and spread her legs. Her hips started to grind into her friends, and she threw her hair back. Both girls started gyrating to the beat, more feeling what they were supposed to be doing than thinking about it.

Carly was pressed against her date. She was already red from exertion and embarrassment, but she was sexy. Her breasts skimmed his chest, leaving her sensitive. His hands combed through her hair pushing her head back to kiss. She felt uneasy, remembering the time Freddie had done the same thing.

"Sam!" Carly leapt back as her mouth had collided with Sam's.

"Carly, if we're going to dance like a couple of sluts, we've got to be prepared for when they kiss us! Now come here!"

"Ooof! Okay, fine, bossy pants," The ground into one another to the beat. Sam licked her lips and came in again. Now prepared, the girls kissed each other, mixing tastes.

Griffin reaped the rewards of her work. Her lips made their way up his neck, into his cheek, then onto his lips. He pressed into her with renewed vigor, practically melding with her. Explosions of heat made her feel like she was cooking from the inside out. His hands made their way to the seat of her jeans. Carly did not know for sure what he was doing, but relaxed into it. The hands cupped her buttocks, pulling her ever closer.

Sam's breasts rubbed against Carly's quickly. The two were lost for a moment, grinding against one another sensually. In the back of her mind, they both knew Freddie was waiting outside of the door, but that made it so much better…

A firm squeezed brought her gasping back to reality. The song was over, and for some reason, that brought her some relief. He led her over to a corner and pressed her against the wall. It was dark here, secluded. The two made out for some time before she broke it off, breathless.

"You smell so good!" She sounded like a total spaz.

He laughed at her lack of stamina, "Virgins."

She paled and looked at him. He explained, "Your underwear drawer… it was open at the party."

Carly blushed bright red as he listed his evidence, "Pink, and with ruffles? Definitely a virgin."

Her entire face was red. His hands moved against her, "Let me see…"

She looked around, doubtfully, "See what?"

He snapped her belt open.

"Griffin no!" She scrambled to shut it, but he held her wrists.

"Let me see," There was no room for argument in his voice. He was adament, and was far stronger then his date. She relaxed her hands. The pop of her button sounded deafening to her. Everyone in the restaurant had to know what they were doing, "Carly, show me."

She blushed, but obeyed, unzipping slowly. They opened the lips of the jeans together. Griffin's breathing was as regular as ever, but Carly was hyperventilating. She almost died when he saw her panties were red silk. He was so right about her; she was a virgin. The red silk flashed alluring in the light, like a flag ready to be captured. Her boyfriend removed his hands, but she did not close up yet. What did she want? The girl was unsure. On the one hand, she had managed not to go that far with anyone yet, on the other, what exactly was she waiting for?

Carly remembered Spencer, and thought about what he would say. Her brother was right; she did not know for sure this was what she wanted. After promising to call her tomorrow, Griffin closed her pants tightly, teasing her flesh. They made out for a bit more. His hands found their way to her bottom again.

"Hey, I've got to get home," She whispered. He nodded, trailing his fingers across the right pocket of her jeans.

"I know… but this isn't over yet," He pushed a finger inside the pocket and pushed in slowly, "Not by a long shot…"

(Back at the Bushwell Plaza)

"Freddie, are you here?" Spencer opened the door to the Benson's. It was never locked these days. Then again, there was no reason to lock up. All the furniture had been sold off. The food was military rations, and the bathroom had minimal toiletries.

The artist took to the stairs, two by two. He hoped that spending some time with the boy would help bring him back out of the shell he had created for himself. The boy's room was more bare than he had anticipated. Two violent looking swords hung on the wall. He tested the sharpness of the blades and drew away a bloody finger.

Freddie's computer was open. Spencer sat down, knowing he was violating his friend's privacy, but not caring. He found a file marked, 'future plans.'

"What a dumb name to disguise porn," Spencer selected it.

The voice that came over the speakers was female, but it was definitely not porn- well, mostly because Mrs. Benson did not qualify. Hours of vocals were in here. Spencer's mind raced until it came to an unsettling conclusion; maybe Marissa Benson's suicide was indeed a homicide. His bloody fingerprint withdrew from the mouse stickily. He backed away and left the apartment, mind racing.