Chapter 23:

-

Joe loosened his collar, and frowned at the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. He gripped the flower stem tighter in his left hand, and with his right, he let his knuckles linger by the wood grain of the dorm door. He just couldn't bring himself to knock, because he knew what laid beyond. He had to stop being immature and accept it. He gulped back his strong displeasure inside his throat, sucked in that unwillingness inside his stomach, and let his fist lightly tap that ominous door.

Meredith opened it with a smirk, knowing she had committed evil to him, but in the end had gotten exactly what she had wanted.

"Hi," she said very casually, still sizing up his attitude. She snatched the daffodil out of his hand.

"How sweet— a dead plant." She then smelled it, and set threw it aside. She sized him up once more, and smirked again.

"You are so hot…" she said in a deep voice. "And so mine… Damien is the best ever."

"Damien…?" Joe growled. "That man will get his dues someday…"

"You want to come inside?" Meredith piped up, grabbing his newly loosened collar and tightening it up again to the point that it hurt.

"I thought we were going out…" Joe said, his left eyebrow raising in suspicion as he gently pushed her hands away from his neckline.

"It can wait," she said sharply. "We're getting married in a month… why not have some fun?"

"Let me get this straight," Joe said, taking a step back. "You plot with my bitter enemy to tear me away from the best thing that's ever happened to me, to make me marry you— a woman that I barely know, much less am in any way attracted to— and now you expect me to sleep with you too?"

Meredith stuck out her hip and placed an annoyed hand on it.

"I don't see what the problem is."

"Forget it," Joe said, waving his hand and taking his leave.

"Kiss me goodbye, Joseph!" she commanded in the sharp voice she forever bore. Joe kept right on walking.

"You forget that I have the control now!" she called after him. "I can call your dear daddy and make him kill your little girlfriend!"

That made Joe stop. He turned back around to face her, his hatred for the conniving girl only growing.

"Oh yes," she went on. "I heard about your little 'chat' with her yesterday. That's strike one. All it takes is one phone call, and she is finished, mister."

She seemed so proud of her evilness. It made Joe sick to his stomach.

"Kiss… Me…" she commanded again.

Joe scowled, and remained motionless for several moments. Meredith waited patiently, knowing she had him between a rock and a hard place. Eventually, he strolled back over to her, and kissed her lightly on the lips. She grabbed his face to make it last, but he yanked away too soon.

"Good night," he said with utter loathing, then walked away, and didn't stop until he reached the refuge of his Cobra, then reared up the engine to speed home.

-

Evelyn sighed in deep refreshment as she got out of the shower. She always loved the feeling of being clean, fresh out of the bath. The alone time also gave her time to think and dwell on recent events. She had just heard that James and Beatrice were now an item, and she wasn't quite sure how she felt about it. She had always been in love with James, which is why she had always turned down the jocks and the biker boys to save herself just for him… but he was always so shy, so nervous… And just when they were making a breakthrough, he starts dating someone else. It made her feel so rejected, so second fiddle.

She reached for her towel, but gasped when she saw another rose sitting on top… a small note attached to it, just like last time. That was not there when she came in; she was sure of it. Whoever her secret admirer was, he had been here while she was in the shower.

She glanced over the note to read it's poorly scrawled wording.

"I'm here for you."

She snickered. No, he wasn't. He didn't even have the guts to show himself. Evelyn snorted in contempt and threw the rose, and the note, in the trash.

-

James twirled his fork in his pasta and brought it to his lips, having firmly and utterly deciding on the fact that there was no way to eat spaghetti with dignity. He was trying hard to be a clean and proper date for Beatrice, though he now wondered why he was trying so hard. They had always gone to dinner with one another, even to fancy restaurants such as this, since James could more than afford it… but only as friends. Coming here to this romantic setting seemed so different when they were more than friends. Beatrice must've sensed his discomfort, and set her hand on his in an attempt to make him calm down.

"Relax, Jimbo," she commanded him. "It's just any other day. I'm not judgmental; you know that."

"I'm glad you said yes, Bee," James admitted. "But you have to let me do this ri--"

Then an entire glob of noodles then fell to his lap. James frowned at the red sauce and pasta lying right on his crotch, slightly in shock at this sudden development. This sent Beatrice into an uncontrolled fit of laughter. She laughed so hard she choked on her own saliva, but her laughs still prevailed.

"It's not that funny," James muttered. This made Beatrice only laugh more.

"Yes, it is," she retorted between chuckles. She took a deep breath and said with a smile: "You wanna get out of here?"

James sighed, in what he realized was relief.

"Yes."

-

"It's not so bad, really!" Beatrice assured James as they walked along a beach pier, as she examined James's wet groin area from what used to be a sauce stain, but now what simply a wet patch from water and bathroom soap.

James laughed it off, knowing that he would be appalled at the night's events… had it been with any other girl. He was glad that the girl had been Beatrice.

Beatrice noticed the sincerity in James's eyes when he looked upon her. It was a look of such appreciation that it touched her heart to its core.

"Jimmy," she said, stopping their walk and going to the nearest pier fencing. She overlooked the ocean for several moments before continuing. "I've been wondering for a while now… what about Evelyn?"

James turned his eyes away from her and stared at the ocean with her, not answering her question.

"I mean," she went on. "You've been crushing on her for so long… this thing for me seemed to come out of nowhere."

"I've been wondering about that myself," James admitted. "But I realized something…"

Beatrice turned to lean her side on the railing, giving him her full attention.

"When I'm around Evelyn," he said. "I get so nervous, all tongue-tied… I can't say or do anything right… and that's sweet and all, because I do like her a lot… but then I realized something else."

Beatrice cocked her head in interest.

"That I'm more comfortable around you than anyone I know. I'm not nervous, or self-conscious, or worry about anything but both of us having a good time… I can tell you anything and not think about judgment. And that, to me, is sweeter than anything else."

Beatrice nodded, and rubbed his back.

"I feel the same way, Jimmy. I like knowing that I have someone I can trust. It's a good feeling. Unlike some people I know…"

James frowned.

"You mean Wayne?"

Beatrice snorted.

"Could you not mention that putrid man in my presence? We're making that a law of our relationship, right now."

"You really like him, don't you?"

Beatrice hit James on the shoulder.

"What did I just say?"

"I have to know, Bee," he urged. "So that I can trust you as much as you trust me."

"Then listen close, Jimmy," Beatrice said. "I say in all mortal honesty, swearing on Lucy's grave… I hate the man. I hate him more than I hate any one of the Concordats, or school, or blondes, or brussel sprouts…"

"You hate him more than brussel sprouts?" James repeated in disbelief.

"Oh, yeah, completely," she assured him with a smile breaking through her serious expression. "Artichokes too."

"You swore…" James cautioned her. "You swore on Lucy's grave, now… that isn't a promise taken lightly. In this Covenant, that's the mother of all swears."

Beatrice smiled, and James smiled back, his grin only growing wider by the second. He took the opportunity to step closer to Beatrice, feeling as awkward as an ape but forcing through it. Then he leaned.

And he kissed her.

"I will fight to keep you, Bee… I swear it on Lucy's grave."

-

Rosalind's straightened Glenn's collar as they waited outside on the quad, watching the parking lot for Rosalind's parents. A cheap engagement stone was on each of their ring fingers. Glenn gulped nervously, but Rosalind patted him to tell him it would be okay.

The limousine finally came after what seemed like an eternity, yet an eternity too soon for Glenn.

The chauffeur got out of the driver's side, then went around to the door and opened it for Rosalind's parents. They stepped out with great dignity, first her tall, gray-haired father, then her stick thin, mousy-looking mother. Her father had a large, hooked cane in his hand, which Glenn greatly feared.

"Mommy!" Rosalind greeted, running up to her mother and throwing her arms around her neck. She did the same with the other men that stepped out the limo, which Glenn presumed were her brothers.

"Who's this handsome man?!" her mother asked with excitement, as Glenn noticed that her father looked upon him with disapproval. Right away, Glenn stepped up to shake the woman's hand.

"Glenn Sims," he said tensely.

Instead, her father went out of his way to shake Glenn's hand first.

"Abraham Elias O' Hara the Fourth," he said firmly. Glenn nodded in understanding, and turned to finally shake Rosalind's mother's hand.

"And I'm Scarlett O'Hara," she said.

Glenn quirked an eyebrow, and Rosalind's mother burst out laughing. Rosalind's brothers joined in.

"It was a joke, my dear! Loosen up! Call me Abigail."

Glenn exchanged glances with Rosalind, who grinned shakily, trying to pass him encouragement that didn't exist.

"We still don't know who the hell this boy is," Rosalind's dad said with impatience.

"Mommy, Daddy," Rosalind said cautiously, stepping forward. "Glenn is… my husband."

Rosalind's dad then lifted his cane up as if in preparation to strike.

-

Please review.
Signed,
--RedRogue