Chapter 7: Looking for a Good Time
"Ugh, this party is off to a lame start," Kelly lamented, swirling her straw around in the fruity concoction she had ladled out from a massive punch bowl in the kitchen. It was no doubt spiked, but she was strictly sipping tonight. No lapses in judgment this time.
"I haven't even seen Tom yet," Donna returned, craning her neck to see past the crowd of people gathered on the patio, milling around in front of the pool. Music was pulsing through the speakers, and what must have been at least fifty lanterns were strung along the awning, and several tiki torches blazed from random points throughout the backyard.
"Donna, would you stop pining over Tom? He's been with Cammie for two years now! In high school time, that's like an eternity. They're like the Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward of West Beverly!"
"Who?" Donna stared blankly. Kelly rolled her eyes.
"You don't know who Paul Newman is? God, he's a legend. And he was so incredibly hot when he was younger. Heck, he's hot for an older guy!"
"He's no Keanu Reeves," Donna breathed. Kelly snorted.
"You and Keanu Reeves," she shook her head and took a sip of her drink, swishing it around in her mouth. She definitely tasted rum. Donna nodded towards the cup in her hand.
"What's in that?"
"I think it's rum," Kelly replied. "You want to try it?" Donna shook her head and gestured to the bottle in her own hand.
"I'll stick to beer. I know no one can mess with this," she added. Kelly shrugged and wrinkled her nose.
"Ugh, I can't stand the taste of that stuff."
"You get used to it," Donna replied. "Besides, I read in Cosmo that guys find girls that drink beer "approachable" and "fun"."
"Cosmo? You're reading Cosmo now?" Kelly frowned, mildly annoyed that her best friend had graduated to Cosmopolitan from YM and Seventeen before she did.
"I read one at my dad's office when I was there last week. I tore out a subscription card. I really think we're getting beyond the advice the teen magazines can offer, don't you?"
"Probably," Kelly agreed. Donna took a pull from her beer bottle, and Kelly watched her face contort slightly as she did so.
"It tastes awful, doesn't it?" she smirked. Donna swallowed and sighed.
"Yeah, it does," she frowned. "Oh well." She paused, and a hopeful expression glinted in her eyes. "There's Tom!" A goofy smile spread across her lips.
"And there's Cammie," Kelly added, motioning towards the tall brunette clinging to Tom's side. "What a waste if you ask me. He's so hot, and she's…"
"Plain," Donna supplied, nodding in agreement. "I know! He can do so much better."
"That's love for you, I guess." Kelly took another slow sip and shrugged. "Not that we'd know about that. I've barely liked most of the guys I've been with."
"Speaking of love, I wonder how Brenda's doing on her date with Dylan," Donna wriggled her eyebrows suggestively. Kelly snickered, ignoring the pang of jealousy that stabbed in her side. She was happy for her friend, but she was tiring quickly of the lovey-dovey stuff she was constantly witness to.
"I'm sure she's enjoying herself immensely," she giggled. She paused. "Don, do you think Brenda and Dylan make a good couple?" Donna twirled her beer bottle between her palms and looked thoughtful for a moment.
"I don't know. I mean, I guess they do. Why?" Donna knitted her brows and shot Kelly a look. "This isn't about Dylan is it?" Kelly shook her head vehemently.
"No! No," she repeated hastily. "I'm happy for her, you know."
"Kelly," Donna warned. "You don't sound very convincing. And you had a crush on Dylan McKay for, like, two years in middle school."
"Donna, that was years ago. I mean, yeah, Dylan McKay is hot, and all, but I really don't think he's my type at all. I guess I'm asking about him and Brenda more because I know the kind of girls he usually dates, and…"
"Kel, that's like calling the kettle black. Didn't you freak out the other day because Brenda made some insinuation about you not being her brother's type?" Kelly sighed.
"Geez, calm down," she whispered, glancing around to see if people were staring at them. "I didn't mean it that way. I just worry about her sometimes. She's so sweet and trusting, and Dylan's got a reputation for loving and leaving." She lowered her voice. "Remember Claudia DiNardi?"
"Kelly, no one ever confirmed that she left school and moved to France because she got knocked up," Donna hissed back. "That was a vicious rumor. Her dad probably got transferred or something. I think he worked for Louis Vuitton."
"Could be," she agreed disbelievingly. "Anyway, I just meant I worry that Brenda's going to get in over her head too fast. Beverly Hills isn't Minneapolis, you know."
"Speaking of Minneapolis," Donna nudged her and directed her attention across the patio to the doors of the main house. "There's your crush du jour." A secretive smile crept onto Kelly's lips and her heart fluttered as she laid eyes on Brandon Walsh.
"God, he's so cute," she whispered, staring at him, willing him to meet her eyes. He had yet to look over in their direction, and Kelly sighed as she noticed Steve Sanders right beside him. He, of course, was already searching the crowded patio, no doubt looking for her. She grimaced as she felt Steve's eyes settle on her, and she watched a satisfied smirk cross his face as he elbowed Brandon and gestured in her direction.
"We've been spotted," she hissed to Donna, who was intently staring towards the fire pit set up off to the side of the patio, where a group of kids were sitting, most notably Tom, who had Cammie perched comfortably on his lap.
"What?" Donna replied, shaking her head to break the pseudo-trance she was in. Kelly nodded towards Steve, who was rapidly making his way towards them, Brandon a few steps behind. "You're on your own there," she snickered. Kelly gripped her friend's upper arm tightly, careful not to dig her nails into Donna's skin.
"Don't you dare leave me," she ordered through clenched teeth.
"Ladies," Steve announced, grinning broadly as he came to a stop directly before them.
"Hey, Steve," Donna smiled casually. "Hi, Brandon," she added, smiling more broadly at him.
"Donna," Brandon nodded, returning her smile. "Kelly."
"Hey, Kel," Steve leered, grinning. "Nice dress." Kelly stiffened, and Brandon shook his head slightly. It was probably meant to be a compliment, as he too had noted appreciatively how well Kelly filled out the little red dress she was wearing, but from Steve's mouth, it had managed to come across sarcastic and mocking.
"Go away," she frowned, her fingers fiddling with the straw in her drink. She raised her eyes and locked them on Brandon. "I'm going to go top off my drink." She gave him a silent plea with her eyes as she turned and flounced off. Donna rocked back on her heels and played with the bottle in her hands again.
"Why do you always have to be such a jerk to her?" she asked suddenly, challenging Steve. He threw up his hands and feigned innocence.
"What did I do?" he asked. Donna and Brandon exchanged a look.
"If you're seriously ever going to try to win her back, you don't have the slightest clue how to do that," Donna laughed. "You're wasting your time!" She strode off, making a beeline for the house where Kelly had disappeared moments earlier. Steve made a face and shrugged.
"What the hell, Brandon? What did I do?" Brandon shook his head, dumbfounded that Steve was really so dense as to how he came across to his ex-girlfriend. "All I did was tell her that her dress was nice."
"Steve," Brandon began, trying to keep his tone from slipping towards patronizing, "it's the way that you said it to her. You tell her "nice dress," but it comes out sounding like you're criticizing her and making fun of it."
"She looked nice!" Steve sputtered.
"I know she does," he agreed, picturing the way the dress clung to Kelly's curves in all the right places, and he swallowed involuntarily. "But I'm telling you, that's not how she heard it." Steve snorted and tossed his head.
"So I can't pay her a compliment?"
"You can," Brandon sighed, exasperated. "You just have to sound more sincere when you do it. You need to try to talk to Kelly like she's not just your ex-girlfriend. Talk to her like you would Donna, or my sister…or anyone."
"I'm not interested in Donna," he frowned. "Or your sister. No offense, Bran, your sister is a really pretty girl, but I don't usually do brunettes."
"I can imagine she'll be all broken up to hear that," Brandon snickered. "I kind of think Brenda's a little too wrapped up in Dylan McKay to notice anyone else. Tom Cruise could ring our doorbell, and Brenda would probably walk right past him to see if Dylan was behind him."
"Please, Brandon," Steve shook his head and lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Everyone knows Tom Cruise is gay." Brandon stared back at Steve, dumbstruck.
"I didn't know that. I thought he had just gotten involved with that redhead he made the racing movie with…Days of Thunder. God, what's her name? Australian girl, beautiful…" Brandon trailed off, wracking his brain for the actress's name.
"Kidman. Nicole Kidman," Steve supplied. "Say what you want Bran, but I heard it from my mom, and she's in the industry. Some things don't stay secret among the insiders." Brandon rolled his eyes inwardly. He had only met Steve's mother once, but from what he knew of Samantha Sanders, she was hardly an "industry insider." Most famous for her role in a Brady Bunch-esque family sitcom that had now been off the air for years but enjoying a healthy enough life in syndication, Brandon couldn't recall seeing Steve's mom in any roles recently.
"Ooh, there's Shelley Lyons," Steve elbowed Brandon hard, nodding his head in the direction of a blonde girl in a pair of tight jeans and a blue top that was barely skimming her shoulders.
"I thought you were all about professing your love to Kelly," Brandon snorted. Steve's steely-blue eyes glinted mischievously.
"No better way to win a girl back than to drive her insane with jealousy."
"She's pretty enough," Brandon agreed, observing that as cute as this Shelley chick was, she was no Kelly Taylor. He smiled to himself as he heard Kelly's voice ringing in his ears, recalling what she had confessed to him just hours earlier: "When you don't love someone back the way they deserve to be loved…" He wondered if his friend had stopped to consider that Kelly had broken things off to spare him further hurt feelings. The way she had phrased it, that Steve deserved someone to love him, spoke volumes. He cleared his throat and considered raising the issue.
"She's supposedly a demon in the sack," Steve continued, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively. Brandon sighed and decided to keep quiet. Perhaps Steve Sanders really wasn't ready for any kind of serious relationship. "I'm going to go inside and grab a beer. You want one?"
"No, man," Brandon held up his hands. "I'm your designated driver tonight, and I'm not planning on seeing the inside of any jail cells ever again."
"Suit yourself," Steve shrugged. "I'm gonna try to find Kelly after I get my drink. She's in that house somewhere."
"Did you consider she's avoiding you?" Brandon said suddenly. Steve turned and shot him a suspicious look.
"Why would you say that?"
"Cause she tends to avoid you a lot," he said bluntly.
"You let me worry about Kelly Taylor, okay?" Steve retorted, stalking off towards the house. Brandon sighed and rocked back on his heels, his eyes scanning the patio for any other familiar faces. He had a sudden urge to be doing nothing more than watching a movie on the couch, remembering why he hated the party scene so much as the loud music pulsed in his head and the heavy odor of alcohol, cigarette smoke and pungent weed swirled in the night air. He cringed as he heard the distinct sound of gagging coming from behind a scrub of sage. Awfully early in the evening for someone to be so drunk already, he mused critically.
He wondered momentarily if his sister was having a good time with Dylan, and then he immediately shook the thought from his head. He was certainly happy when Brenda was happy, but the last thing he wanted to consider was the details of her romantic escapades with Dylan McKay. Brandon was still a little astounded by how quickly and how hard his twin had fallen for the guy. He knew there was something to be said for the dark and mysterious type, as it seemed to appeal to all girls, but he actually couldn't have pictured Brenda fawning over a similar type of guy back in Minnesota. In fact, strangely, he observed that Dylan McKay would have been an outsider of the worst kind back home, but here, his rebellious nature was celebrated and romanticized. And his sister had decided that she was the one who was going to tame that defiant streak.
"Hi again." He turned and was shocked to see Kelly standing at his side, smiling brightly at him.
"Kelly," he said slowly, craning his neck to look for Steve through the large glass-paneled windows that ran along the back of the massive house. "Where did you come from?"
"You're not happy to see me," she pouted playfully, pursing her lips.
"No, no, it's not that," he assured her. "I…well, Steve was going to look for you after he grabbed himself something to drink."
"Ugh." She wrinkled her nose, scrunching up her face, and Brandon had to admit, though most other girls distorting their features in such a way might not look so good, Kelly managed to look adorable in the process. "The only thing worse than a remorseful, groveling Steve Sanders is a drunken remorseful groveling Steve Sanders. He can't handle his liquor at all," she finished, her voice softer as she revealed the last tidbit.
"So," she continued, glancing down at his hands. "You're not drinking?" It wasn't really a statement of surprise, he noted. More matter-of-fact, as if she understood.
"Nope," he replied. "Not worth the risk. I've got to get Loverboy home safely later." Kelly giggled.
"Yeah, we wouldn't want anything to happen to him," she smiled. He gestured to the neon-orange party cup in her own hands.
"Do you even know what's in that?" he frowned, instantly chiding himself for sounding so paternal. He knew Kelly was no fan of alcohol or drugs as a result of her mother's own dependency issues.
"I do know," she shot back knowingly. "Relax, Brandon. When I went inside, I topped it off with straight up cranberry juice. But thanks for your concern," she teased. Brandon flushed slightly, thankful for the dimmed light of the patio and the meager moonlight gleaming down from the darkening sky.
"I just know…" he started to say, but Kelly shook her head.
"I know what you were thinking," she said quietly, biting her lip. "But no drunken indiscretions for me tonight."
"Uh, I had actually been thinking about your mom's history and something you told me months ago. You know, about not drinking and sipping instead," he confessed, and Kelly blushed, quite visibly.
"Oh," she murmured, looking away, surely embarrassed she had brought up the consequences of the last time she had drank and slept with Steve. An uncomfortable silence settled over the two of them, and Kelly shifted slightly beside him.
"So, uh, where did Donna go?" Brandon asked, trying to make light conversation. Kelly shrugged her shoulders.
"She's probably stalking Tom. She really thinks he and Cammie are going to break up, and he'll realize she's the girl for him. I wish she'd find someone who will actually give her the time of day. Donna is such a sweet girl, but she's never really had a boyfriend."
"Oh," Brandon nodded, surprised by that revelation. He figured girls in Beverly Hills started dating at age eight. Another silence.
"You look really cute tonight," she declared boldly, and her blatant attempt at conversation disguised as a compliment caught him utterly off-guard. "I mean, the black on red, I like it. It works."
"Thanks," he replied uncertainly, his eyes sweeping over her. "You definitely look more than cute." Her blue eyes sparkled in the muted glow of the patio lights, and her lips curled into a smile.
"Thanks," she echoed, fastening her eyes on his. "Brandon," she whispered, running a fingertip along the edge of the cup she was clutching, and she paused, leaving him in anticipation of what she was going to say next.
"There you are!" Steve interrupted, pushing past two party-goers to amble towards Brandon and Kelly. He took a pull off his bottle of Corona and stopped in front of them. They both involuntarily took a step back from each other.
"Here I am," she sighed. "What now, Steve? Want to make fun of my dress again?"
"I was looking for you. I guess you must have slipped outside without me seeing you." He laughed. "And to think you thought she was avoiding me, Brandon," he snickered. Kelly raised an eyebrow at Brandon.
"If I were avoiding you, you think I'd come back outside to talk to your best friend?" she challenged. "I was I was going inside to top off my drink, I meant it." She waved the cup under his nose, and Brandon had to admit he was confused as to where she was going with this. Just earlier that evening, she had been pleading with him to keep Steve away from her, and yet, she had a point. Why would she have come back outside? Unless she had concluded there was just no way of avoiding him…or part of her really did want to talk to him.
"We need to talk," Steve declared. Kelly tilted her head and set her jaw.
"We do?" She shrugged. "So talk." Steve's eyes darted towards Brandon, and he gave his friend a visual cue that implied "Beat it." Brandon remained fixed in the spot he was standing.
"Alone," Steve emphasized.
"Brandon's your best friend. What could you possibly have to say to me that your best friend couldn't also hear?" Kelly replied smoothly, sipping her drink slowly.
"Because our relationship is none of Brandon's business," he growled, narrowing his eyes at her.
"I wasn't aware that we still had a relationship," she retorted. "We can certainly work at a friendship, but I'm not getting back together with you, Steve. It's not going to happen."
"Why are you such a bitch?" he snarled.
"Well, I'm gonna go inside and see if I can't find Donna," Brandon piped up, his unease at being caught between the verbal sparring of his best friend and a girl who was suddenly paying him more attention than the brother of her best friend would normally garner bubbled over to complete awkwardness. He edged towards the boundary of the patio, but Kelly's arm shot out quickly and braced across his chest.
"Please stay," she pleaded, cutting her eyes towards Steve, who was glowering at her. "I'll feel a lot better if you do." Steve rolled his eyes and grunted sarcastically.
"Oh, please, Kelly. Cut the crap. Don't act like you're afraid of me or something," he spat. Kelly fixed her eyes on him.
"I'm not afraid of you, Steve," she returned. "I don't want to hurt you," she continued quietly. "And if I'm being perfectly honest…"
"Never been your strong suit," Steve interjected, his voice dripping with venom. Brandon watched Kelly's body tense, her back straightened, and she squared her shoulders, but she ignored his comment and took a breath.
"If I'm being perfectly honest," she repeated. "I'll be less likely to say something I'll regret if Brandon is here."
"Oh, I forgot, Brandon Walsh is every girl's White Knight," Steve jeered mockingly, and Brandon bristled, offended by his friend's sudden nastiness.
"Steve, this is why we never get anywhere when you say you want to talk to me," Kelly cried, exasperated. "You can't get over yourself for two seconds to listen to what anyone else has to say. The moment you hear something you don't like you resort to the insults and the jokes and the cruel remarks. It's part of why I broke up with you in the first place!"
"Part of?" he sneered. "I can't wait to hear what the other part was. C'mon Kelly, enlighten me." Kelly's eyes flashed fire, and her nostrils flared slightly.
"Steve, can we please be civil?" she asked quietly, her voice quavering as she tried to remain calm. "You're going to cause a scene, and this party is barely an hour old."
"We can be civil if we can be alone," he snapped, glaring at Brandon, who held up his hands.
"I'm not stopping you," he replied, sliding his eyes towards Kelly. He could see the defeat heavy in her sad blue eyes.
"Fine," she muttered through clenched teeth. "Let's go talk." Arms crossed defiantly across her chest, Brandon watched her stride towards the glass doors. Steve shot Brandon a triumphant sneer, and he rushed off in pursuit of Kelly.
Brandon knew for sure now that he'd rather have just stayed home.
***
Brenda's heart was racing as Dylan eased his Porsche down a gravel path and cut the engine, and moments later they were plunged into darkness as the headlights flicked off. She could hear the surf pounding the shore from outside the car, and the salty scent of the sea flooded her nostrils as she took a shaky breath.
"Dylan, what are you…" she started to say but found herself silenced by his lips crushing down on hers. She moaned against his mouth and gave in to his embrace, parting her lips slightly as his tongue begged entrance. Just as suddenly as he had kissed her, he broke away. He opened the driver's side door and eased his frame out, Brenda's eyes following the curve of his spine as he stretched languidly before he crossed in front of the car and opened her door for her. She gave him a quizzical look as she gingerly raised herself off the leather seat, careful to keep her legs tucked as she slid them out and felt the crunch of gravel under her heel. Dylan grabbed her hand as she stood, lacing his fingers through hers. She felt a tremor of anticipation shoot through her at his simple touch.
"You think you can make it down that path in those shoes?" Dylan asked softly, his voice husky as he glanced down at her heels. "If not, we can walk further down and take one of the boardwalks instead." Brenda contemplated it for a moment.
"I can probably manage," she replied hesitantly. It didn't look that steep; it wasn't really much more than a large sand dune. "I can always take my shoes off."
"I wouldn't take them off til we get down to the beach," he warned, gripping her hand tightly as they reached the top of the path. "There always seem to be broken shells and shards of beer bottles all over this particular path."
"Oh, so you come here often?" she said, accusing him mockingly, but secretly feeling a stab of jealousy at the thought of Dylan bringing other girls to this spot.
"You could say that," he replied cryptically. He must have sensed her insecurity, because he sighed and shifted as he eased down the path, coaxing her to follow. "This is where I come to get away from things, Bren. Some of those broken beer bottles probably were in my hands at one point." She pressed her lips together, opting not to prod him further. She set one foot in front of the other carefully, feeling precariously like she was about to fall when Dylan wrapped a strong arm around her waist and steadied her.
They made their way down to the beach, Brenda kicking off her heels and slinging them over her shoulder. The sand was cool beneath her feet, soft and inviting as they sunk in with each step. Dylan led her towards the water's edge in silence; the only sound was the rhythmic crashing of the waves against the beach and the sporadic chirping of the crickets having their evening conversations in the saw grass at the dunes' edge.
Her heart was now hammering inside her chest, her stomach churning anxiously as she pondered Dylan's intentions bringing her to the moonlit beach, though she noticed the scurrying clouds were making the moonlight less pronounced than usual. A gentle breeze was wafting off the water, ruffling her hair and raising the gooseflesh on her bare arms. She shivered involuntarily in spite of the warm spring night.
"You cold?" Dylan asked, sliding his hand up and down her right arm gently. She shrugged and tossed her head lightly.
"Just the breeze, I guess. And I'm kind of underdressed for a night stroll, I guess," she admitted sheepishly. Dylan let out a throaty chuckle.
"And here I was thinking you were overdressed," he whispered, lowering his head and brushing his lips over the curve of her neck, his tongue carefully swirling over the pulse point there. Brenda gasped and threaded her fingers through his hair.
A thousand things were cascading about in her head, crashing about chaotically, as Dylan's lips worked their way towards the column of her throat, teasing the soft skin as he caressed her back with his rough hands. She hadn't considered that Dylan had planned anything beyond the lovely dinner they had just shared, but she knew now that the restaurant had been vigilantly chosen for its proximity to this place of clear importance to Dylan.
She also knew there was heavy implication as to where Dylan thought the evening might be headed, though he had not uttered a word to her about sex in the last few days. He had been more than patient with her, she noted with admiration, as she knew her boyfriend's reputation of past conquests suggested he was not used to having to wait for a girl to give it up to him.
The sensations that were building within her and threatening to overwhelm her were starting to leave her lightheaded, and she felt her knees buckle. Almost on instinct, Dylan lowered their bodies to the sand, covering her with the length of him tenderly. Grains of sand pebbled against the backs of her bare legs and back, and she shifted under his weight to get comfortable as one of his hands wandered up her thigh, setting the skin ablaze with the contact. His lips found hers once more, and he kissed her with such an intense passion she found herself struggling to breathe.
A dull ache began to build in her abdomen, and she tried to suck in a breath to fight the sensation. Dylan's hand was creeping higher on her leg, the fringed hem of her dress now skimming against his skin. She yelped with surprise as his fingers deftly traveled up her inner thigh and swiftly brushed aside her panties.
"Dylan, wait!" she trembled, sitting up and inching away from him. His confused eyes met hers. "I don't know," she admitted softly, her pulse pounding. She could actually hear the blood rushing to her ears.
"Bren, didn't that feel good?" he murmured, brushing a lock of her hair out of her eyes. Brenda blushed and dragged her finger through the sand, looking away shyly.
"Yes," she whispered. "Maybe too good." She took a deep breath. "I just don't know…" He nodded, his eyes darting out towards the darkened sea.
"This doesn't have to be about sex," he replied after a few moments. "There are things that we can do that feel good without actually having sex, you know." Brenda coughed and avoided his eyes again, her cheeks flaming in embarrassment at her lack of experience.
"I've had boyfriends before, Dylan," she pointed out, not wanting him to think she was a naïve virgin. She might have been a virgin, she knew, but she had certainly done her fair share of fooling around with the few guys she had dated in Minnesota. Which was why, she thought lamentably, that it was so much more embarrassing that she was feeling overwhelmed by Dylan's advances.
"Brenda, just let me make you feel good before I take you home," he pleaded softly. "I didn't bring you here with the intention of seducing you." He paused. "Or at least not convincing you to sleep with me. I'd never want you to do anything you're not ready for."
"That's the thing," she interrupted. "I'm not sure I'm ready or not. I do know that I like you, Dylan. A lot," she added.
"I'm going down to Mexico for a few days," he said suddenly, shifting and sitting up to stare directly out at the churning ocean. He drew his knees to his chest. Brenda raised herself to her knees and faced him.
"Why?" she asked, blinking back tears. She had ruined the evening, she feared, and she tried desperately not to allow her disappointment to show.
"My dad wants me to come down. I'm gonna go. I just wanted to have a nice night with you, since it'll be a few days before we're together again."
"How many days?" she asked quietly. Dylan shrugged.
"Three, four. I dunno. Maybe a week." Brenda's eyes widened, and she swallowed a lump.
"A week? Dylan, how can you blow off school like that?"
"You sound like your brother," he snorted. "The Walsh twins, looking out for my well-being."
"Someone has to," she shot back. She inhaled and exhaled slowly, not wanting to pick a fight with him. Dylan just didn't see education the same way she did, and to be fair, she didn't know what it was like to not have your parents around most of the time. She guessed she really couldn't begrudge Dylan wanting to spend time with his father. And at least it wasn't Hawaii he was running off to, where his mom currently resided.
"I do appreciate your concern, Bren," he said, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "But I'm going."
"I'll miss you," she sighed, leaning her head against his shoulder and glancing up at the night sky. He pressed his lips to her temple and wrapped an arm around her.
"I'll miss you too," he murmured. "Want me to show you how much?" Her heart fluttered, and she nodded. "I think I have you to myself for a bit longer before we have to meet your dad's stupid curfew." Brenda squinted at her watch in the muted moonlight.
"It's 10 o'clock, Dylan," she replied.
"Then I guess I'd better make good use of the hour, huh?" he whispered, pulling her atop him, her legs straddling him, both still in sitting positions.
"I think I'm falling in love with you, Dylan," she confessed softly as his lips seized hers in heated response.
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Author's Note: Well, that took much longer than I expected. This chapter just did not want to be written, so I apologize it's taken so long to get anything posted. I was stuck in party doldrums, so I wrote the B/D part first, then went back to the party, and then that started getting long…so I had to end it where I did. Looks like the next chapter will have to continue the evening, including the fight between Steve and Kelly, and the escapades of David and Scott as they attempt to get in to the shindig.
I also had to keep Dylan out of town as he was in the original episode for my plan to be carried out. Brenda's still going to experience a little bit of jealousy about Brandon's student council run, but she's going to do something quite different than express her desire to drop out of school. Had Dylan been around, I don't think she would have been quite as slighted by the attention Brandon got. Aren't you curious what I have up my sleeve? Then by all means, review!
BTW, the title song actually is about one-night stands, but I decided the original title was better for Chapter 8, and the only other thing I could come up with was "Fight for Your Right to Party" and that was not happening! :-P ~Court~