Chapter 8: Last Worthless Evening
"Dammit, Scott, hurry up!" David hissed over his shoulder, pedaling more furiously as he coasted around the corner of Valencia and Sycamore. Large, ostentatious homes loomed on lawns that were obviously neatly-manicured, even in the darkness. They weren't unlike the houses in David's own neighborhood; his father was a prominent dentist and did very well for himself.
David had been relieved to realize Tom Hartman lived just a few blocks away in a gated community that had surprisingly lax security, at least where two teenagers on ten-speeds were concerned. He and Scott merely had to flash their West Beverly High student IDs at the bored security guard at the main booth, and both boys were waved into Tom's neighborhood without a second glance. It had been a short and easy bike ride, and on a mild spring night, neither boy had to break too much of a sweat on the trek there.
"I can't wait til one of us gets a license," Scott grumbled, pulling even with David.
"Yeah, well, your mom better sign you up for driver's ed, or when you turn 15 next month, you're going to be out of luck."
"You know my mom, David. She worries about everything. I'm working on her." David sighed and rolled his eyes. Mrs. Scanlon was hypersensitive when it came to her son, and David wouldn't be surprised if instead of a learner's permit, Scott wound up with a bus pass.
"This looks like a good spot," David declared, slowing his bike and hopping off. He wheeled the bike up onto the sidewalk and steered it behind a large jacaranda bush at the edge of a front yard. Flicking the kickstand down with his foot, he parked the bike behind the bush, obscuring it from view. Scott's eyes widened as he set his feet down on the street.
"We're just gonna leave em here?" Scott asked in disbelief.
"You really think we're just gonna glide up to an upperclassman's party on our bicycles?" David snorted. "Get real, Scott. Of course we have to leave them here. Tom Hartman's house is two up on the left. The bikes will be fine here. Trust me." He glanced up at the massive house on the hill. "It doesn't even look like these owners are home tonight. No one is going to notice a few bikes for a couple of hours. Now get off the bike and let's get moving!"
"I don't know, David," Scott wheedled in response, though he did climb off the bike, one hand resting on the seat possessively. David heaved a sigh and strode to where Scott stood. He wrested the bike away before Scott could utter a protest and positioned it next to his own bike.
"There. Now let's get going. The party is probably already in full swing."
"What if it's not any fun?" Scott complained.
"Oh yeah, cause playing Zelda all night on your Nintendo would have been better," David retorted. "Stop worrying. God, you're just like your mother."
"Hey!"
"It's true," David muttered under his breath, quickening his pace as his friend struggled to match his strides. Even if they hadn't known where the Hartmans' house was, the noise level on the street would have been a dead giveaway. Loud music pulsed through the air, and the shrieks and shouts of teenagers could be heard above the din.
"How do you know you'll even be able to find Kelly Taylor at this party?" Scott asked suddenly. David stopped walking and turned to face his friend.
"Why do you always have to be such a downer?"
"I'm not a downer," he replied softly, tossing his hair out of his eyes. "I'm a realist. When did you become so obsessed with being one of the cool kids?" Scott paused and dragged the toe of his sneaker along the sidewalk, avoiding David's annoyed glare. David sighed.
"High school is when you're supposed to start caring about your reputation," David answered bluntly. "It's where you try to make a name for yourself. We're not gonna do that playing video games in your basement while your mom serves us Hi-C and Cheetos every Friday night."
"We're geeks, David. We're freshmen. We're not even supposed to be at this party."
"That's why we're not going in the front door," he replied smoothly. "If we just walk around back to the patio, no one will even really notice our arrival, and no one will question our even being there!" He smirked to himself, satisfied that he had thought through the details of their unofficial crashing. Scott shifted from side to side, a nervous jive.
"We can't stay all night either, David. My mom thinks we went to the movies, and she's gonna check what time the movie ends and when to expect us home."
"Then we'll call her and tell her you decided to spend the night at my house," David confirmed, growing more and more irritated with each excuse Scott tried to proffer. "Let's go." He started walking towards the house again, his heart thumping in anticipation with each step he took.
An image of Kelly Taylor formed in his head, and he felt a goofy smile forming on his face.
"She's not gonna give you the time of day," Scott murmured as they reached the driveway.
"Shut up," he replied through clenched teeth. "Don't ruin my evening."
"You'll probably do that fine on your own," Scott muttered aloud, but David was no longer listening as the lure of the party drew him further up the driveway.
***
"So. Talk." Kelly spun on her heel and recrossed her arms across her chest, jutting her chin into the air defiantly as Steve ushered her into a first-floor room that appeared to be a study. He had wanted her to go upstairs to a bedroom to talk, but Kelly had put her foot down and refused to go beyond the main floor of the house.
Steve closed the door and leaned against it, his face twisting in aggravation as he noticed the glass panes framing it. So much for privacy. Kelly's lips twisted into a reserved smile as she saw Steve realized they would not be completely hidden from prying eyes. She knew Steve would never ever become physically aggressive, and she didn't fear being alone with him, but the fact remained he could often get verbally abusive and angry, and knowing anyone walking past to use the powder room at the end of the hall might keep his temper in check. Or not. Steve was also largely unpredictable when it came to his moods.
"I miss you Kelly," he began softly, lowering his eyes to shoot her a pleading puppy-dog look. Kelly shook her head.
"I haven't gone anywhere, Steve," she replied, unfolding her arms and dropping them to her sides. "I'm still around." She sighed. "I wish you'd get it through your thick skull that two people can be friends without dwelling on a past relationship."
"I miss being with you," he emphasized. "Why does our relationship have to be a thing of the past?" Kelly closed her eyes and turned away, her eyes wandering to the awesome ceiling-to-floor windows that ran the length of the study, which she deduced must be some sort of home office. She could see several kids jumping into the pool, and beyond them, a few couples were using the hot tub to engage in some serious making out. For a split second, she imagined being in the bubbling water with Brandon, his lips on her flesh, his hands exploring her body, and blushing, she shook the image from her mind.
"What are you thinking?" Steve pressed, walking towards her.
"Nothing," she replied quickly. "Look, Steve, I don't know how many times I have to tell you. There is no you and me anymore. Not the way you want it to be." She watched his blue eyes narrow in resentment, though to his credit, she had to admit he was staying calmer than she had thought he would.
"We were good together, Kelly," he cajoled her, reaching out to take her hands in his.
"Yeah," she answered uncertainly, drawing out the word slowly. "For a little bit. But think about it. Most of the time we were fighting or trying to find something in common. We never even liked to do the same things. Our dates were…" she trailed off, not wanting to hurt his feelings. "We just never did anything," she finished lamely.
"We were good together in other ways," he suggested, raising an eyebrow at her. Kelly pursed her lips.
"Sex can't be the only thing in a relationship, Steve," she countered quietly. "It just masks problems that are there in the first place."
"You've never had a problem using it in your other relationships, if you can call them that." He said it quickly, and though she thought she saw a flicker of regret in his eyes as he uttered the words, Kelly was stung by them nonetheless.
"Go to hell, Steve," she spat, pushing past him and rushing towards the door. Steve grabbed her upper arm, his strong fingers digging into the soft flesh there. Kelly struggled in his grip, her eyes filled with venom.
"Let. Go. Of. Me." She enunciated every word, locking her eyes on his. Steve released her from his grasp and backed up a step.
"Don't go," he implored.
"I'm not going to stay here and listen to you slander me," she argued. "You said you wanted to talk, not to trade insults."
"What can I say, you bring out the best in me," he smirked.
"And you never learn," she shook her head sadly. "This, Steve. This is why we will never, never get back together." She repeated the word for emphasis, even though she knew it would most likely fall on deaf ears. "I wish you'd just accept that, and let us work on being friends."
"I have enough friends," he sneered.
"Well then, maybe you need to start going out with other girls," she suggested, tossing her hair over her shoulder.
"I should," he snapped back. "Instead I've been wasting my time pining over you."
"I never gave you a reason to think we were getting back together, Steve," she huffed, exasperated that he was still dwelling on this.
"Oh really?" he sniffed. "I seem to recall a party a few months back where you were very willing to climb into bed with me."
"That was a mistake," she cried, throwing up her hands in frustration. "I had had too much to drink, and you knew it!"
"Doesn't change the fact that it happened," he replied. "C'mon Kelly." He took a step towards her.
"Steve, enough!" she yelled, her aggravation finally bubbling over. "We are over. Done. We are never getting back together, and I'm not going to entertain the thought for another minute." She took a deep breath and reached for the door again.
"Who's the guy, Kelly?"
"Excuse me?" She spun on her heel and glowered at her ex. Steve rolled his eyes and shot her a malicious grin.
"You've never gone more than a few weeks without throwing yourself at some loser," he continued. "So who is it this time? Harry Wilson? Brad Philip? Kyle Conner? C'mon, spill."
"You're pathetic," she shook her head. "Fact is, after you, I'm enjoying being alone. The sad thing is Steve, I do care about you. You're too dense to realize it, cause you think just because I won't come crawling back to you I don't care. You can care about someone without loving them."
"You couldn't love anyone," Steve retorted. "You're too damn selfish. A selfish bitch, that's all you are." Kelly closed her eyes, counted slowly to five and let out a shaky breath. Her blood was boiling, and her palms would no doubt have several half-crescent dents where her fingernails had dug into her flesh while clenching her fists, but she was not going to let him get the best of her.
"Maybe you'll grow up sooner or later, and we can try to be friends." She flung open the door and stepped into the hallway, the shouts and laughter of the party washing over her. "Until then, have a nice life." She thrust her chin high in the air and walked briskly towards the wet bar in the center of the Hartman's massive entry hall. She thought for a brief moment about plunging her hand into the large cooler overflowing with ice and beer bottles, just to suck back a quick drink and get a slight buzz to numb the sting of what had just transpired between her and Steve, but she came to her senses and instead grabbed a chilled bottle of water. Taking a long sip, enjoying the feel of the cool liquid soothing her parched throat, she leaned against the wall and replayed the argument in her head.
As she was contemplating why it was that Steve was still so hung up on her, she saw him stalking angrily across the kitchen, hidden from his view in her current location. She watched him throw open the sliding glass door and heard it shut with a reverberating crash as several party-goers in the kitchen exchanged amused glances at his exit.
She took another drink from the bottle, then replaced the cap and adjusted her dress with her free hand before going off in search of Donna.
She had the sudden urge to do nothing but go home, crawl into bed and forget the whole evening.
***
"So then my mom wanted us to move to Houston, cause she has family there, but luckily for me, my dad's practice was really thriving here, so we didn't move after all," Donna rambled, and Brandon nodded politely, smiling at his sister's friend with forced politeness. He had spent the last fifteen minutes making small talk with the petite blonde as she prattled on about the various couples at West Beverly that weren't going to make it, Tom Hartman and Cammie Fisher being at the top of her list. Brandon seemed to think that one was simply wishful thinking on her part.
Now she was yammering about her early childhood, and it was taking every ounce of effort on his part to keep listening to her, though his eyes did keep wandering to the large windows to the far left of the rear of the house. With no curtains or blinds drawn, he could clearly see Steve and Kelly engaged in what appeared, for awhile, to be a civil conversation. Then Kelly had stepped away from the window, and he could only see just the back of Steve's curly head, and that's how things remained.
"Brandon?" Donna asked hesitantly.
"Huh?" he replied, looking away from the house and meeting Donna's whiskey-hued eyes. She gave him a wry smile.
"I asked you a question," she said pointedly.
"I'm sorry, Donna," he apologized. "What was it?"
"I asked if it was hard to move here from Minnesota. I mean, I've never had to move, like I was saying…" she trailed off, playing with the nearly-empty beer bottle, her crimson-painted fingernails picking at the label.
"Um, it was hard, at first, leaving behind my friends, breaking up with my girlfriend…"
"Oh my gosh, you had to break up with her?" Donna gasped dramatically. "That is so awful." Brandon smiled wanly at her.
"Yeah, well, long distance relationships don't work so well for mature, consenting adults. I could hardly have hoped for two immature teenagers to last separated by two-thousand miles." He paused, remembering the Sheryl that had came for a visit last fall was not the same girl he had dated in Minnesota, and their breakup was most likely a blessing-in-disguise.
"You're really smart," she said appreciatively. "No wonder Kelly likes you." The moment the words left her lips, Brandon saw her eyes widen in horror, and she immediately clapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh, gosh, forget I said that!"
"No problem," he winked, not surprised by the revelation, but mildly relieved to finally hear confirmation of it. From one of her best friends, no less. Not that he was entirely sure what he'd do with that little nugget of information…
"You're not going to say anything, right?" she pleaded. "Kelly would kill me!"
"I seriously doubt she'd kill you, Donna," he replied with a smile. "I haven't heard screams coming from the house, and if she was going to kill anyone, it would probably be Steve."
"Like anyone would hear screaming over that music," Donna laughed. "But aren't you curious what's going on in there?"
"Looks like we're about to find out," he gestured towards the house, where Steve had just pulled the sliding glass doors to the patio closed with a violent shudder. His face was a storm cloud, his large frame hunched in what appeared to be rage. He looked up and almost instantly met Brandon's eyes, then made a sudden beeline for where Brandon and Donna stood.
"Hey, Steve," Donna greeted him amiably, earning herself a vile glare from him. She frowned and drained the last of her beer.
"How did it go?" Brandon asked tentatively, bracing himself for the verbal assault on Kelly that was no-doubt forthcoming.
"She's impossible," Steve announced in disgust.
"That well, huh?" Brandon sighed.
"She's an insufferable bitch," Steve continued. "Didn't want to hear a word I had to say, and you know what man? I'm done with her. I don't need her. There are hundreds of girls at West Beverly that would love to be on my arm, cruising around town in my Porsche, so screw her!"
"I'm gonna go find her," Donna explained, setting down her empty bottle on a nearby table as she rushed off in search of Kelly. Brandon rocked back on his heels and faced Steve again.
"I'm sorry, man," he offered, clapping Steve on the back. Steve shrugged and made a face.
"Her loss," he spat. "I'm done with Kelly Taylor." He snorted. "I need a drink." But he made no move towards the house. Instead he started pacing in front of the pool, mumbling to himself.
"You know what burns me up most, Brandon?" he asked suddenly. "She never learns."
"I'm not following you, Steve," Brandon replied cautiously, not really wanting to listen to Steve launch into a verbally libelous rant against his ex-girlfriend. But he sensed it was coming.
"She doesn't want me back, fine. But I know she's interested in another guy. She's been all upbeat and smiley lately, which is always how she acts when she's got her eye on someone. And it's probably one of those brain-dead jocks, like that hotshot senior Harry Wilson or that disgustingly perfect Kyle Conner."
"Steve," Brandon began mildly, Donna's little sleight of tongue pinging through his mind, "Kelly's not interested in either of those guys right now." Steve shot Brandon a withering look.
"And who made you the expert on her love life?"
"Well, my sister is her best friend for starters, and I usually manage to hear who likes who. The walls aren't that thick," he joked, trying to redirect Steve's suspicions as to Kelly's intended crush was. "In fact, I haven't heard Brenda say anything recently." There. It wasn't a lie. Brenda hadn't said anything.
"She never learns that these jerks are no good for her," he continued. "They all just want one thing, and unfortunately, Kelly's got the reputation for giving that thing up. Locker room talk can be vicious, and guys are more than happy to brag."
"Steve, why did you and Kelly start dating in the first place?" Brandon asked slowly. He had never really given it much thought, but now his curiosity as to how the two got together in the first place was piqued. A sheepish look crossed Steve's face, then a smug one replaced it.
"Any guy at West Beverly would go for an easy lay," he smirked. Brandon frowned, his heart going out to Kelly, if this is what was going to follow her for most of high school.
"So it had nothing to do with the fact she's a beautiful girl and has a good heart?" He knew in spite of Steve's callous attitude, there was more to why he pursued Kelly Taylor and couldn't seem to let her go.
"There are plenty of pretty girls at school," Steve retorted. "And Kelly's heart is as black as they come. She cares about one person, herself." He laughed bitterly. "Don't take her side, Brandon. She doesn't deserve sympathy."
"I've never seen her being nasty to anyone," he pointed out, still feeling the need to defend her, albeit precariously lest Steve get defensive and start accusing him of being interested in Kelly. Which he still wasn't sure if he was, or not.
"She's a conceited, shallow bitch, Brandon. And the sooner people realize that, the better off they'll be," he spat contemptuously. "I've done my part." A slither of unease crept over Brandon.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked. Steve smirked again.
"Let's just say I've shared my share of warnings about Ms. Kelly Taylor. Guys have to look out for each other."
"You've spread rumors about her?"
"Not rumors if they're true," he snapped. "Brandon, just drop it, okay? She's not worth it. Now I'm seriously going to get something to drink." He pushed past Brandon and reentered the house, leaving Brandon standing alone on the patio.
***
Kelly was walking towards the sliding door when Donna appeared on the other side of the glass and pushed it open swiftly, grabbing Kelly's hand and leading her back towards the interior of the house.
"What happened? Steve is really pissed!" she asked, eyes wide. They stopped in the foyer, and Kelly sighed, sitting down on the steps, burying her face in her hands.
"I can't keep dealing with him, Don," she lamented. Donna gingerly sat down next to Kelly, carefully tucking in her legs and adjusting the short mini-dress she was wearing. Kelly rested her head on her friend's shoulder and sighed again.
"What did you tell him?" Donna asked quietly.
"The same thing I've been telling him for a year! I'm more than happy to be his friend, but I don't love him, and I'm not getting back together with him. And of course, that's when he got mean and started saying horrible things about me." She looked away, her eyes filled with sadness, hearing his voice echoing in her ears. "He told me I was selfish, and he called me a bitch, and that's when I walked out."
"Kel, you just have to ignore him," Donna implored. "You know he only says those things to hurt you because he's hurt."
"He accused me of liking someone else," she continued.
"Well, you do!"
"He doesn't know that," she replied, twisting a lock of blonde hair around her finger. "And God, he'd flip out if he knew I liked Brandon Walsh, of all people." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "And of course," her eyes flooded with tears, "he had to bring up what a slut he thinks I am."
"He didn't say that!" Donna gasped.
"Not in so many words, but he made some comment about how good we were together, which he might have thought was the case, but I've told you before Don, I never felt that connection with him, and when I said sex couldn't be everything in a relationship, he felt the need to cut me down and remind me half my relationships have only been sex." She drew a labored breath and blinked back tears. "I'm never gonna shake this reputation, Donna."
"Kelly, this is high school. Most people know guys are full of crap and like to talk."
"Maybe. But in my case, most of what they say is true, and Brenda's probably right," she whispered sadly.
"Brenda?"
"Guys like Brandon Walsh just don't go for girls like me," she affirmed. "Why would Brandon want me when he could have a smart, pretty girl who doesn't have a damaged reputation?" Donna sighed and stroked her friend's hair.
"Oh, Kelly," she murmured. "You're smart, smarter than people give you credit for."
"Not really," she replied.
"You're beautiful," Donna added.
"So are a lot of other girls. And that doesn't really seem to matter. Look how much attention Brandon gives Andrea Zuckerman! That girl barely looks in the mirror in the morning!" She sighed. "And that's one of the things that is so great about him," she sighed wistfully. "He looks for the good in people."
"You've never been shy about going after a guy you like, Kel," Donna coached. "So why are you so hesitant to show Brandon Walsh how you feel?"
"Because he's different," she whispered, a small smile gracing her lips.
"It has nothing to do with Steve?" Donna hedged. Kelly shook her head vehemently.
"I've tried to be sympathetic where it comes to Steve Sanders. I'm done with the drama, Don. I don't care anymore. He's gonna have to deal with the fact I've moved on, and there are going to be other guys in my life." Kelly froze as she heard Steve's loud voice suddenly emanating from the kitchen. She was talking loudly to someone, but she didn't hear Brandon's voice when the other person replied. It must not have been Brandon.
"Donna, do you mind terribly if we just leave?" she asked wearily. Donna gave her a wan smile and hugged her with one arm.
"If that's what you want," she agreed.
"Well, I feel bad, if you want to stay," she replied. "I mean, you can always try to get a ride home with Abby Marks or John Lewis or someone who lives near you." Donna made a face.
"Abby's car always smells like cigarettes. It's not big deal, Kelly. If you want me to leave with you, I can. I'll stay over with you if you want too. We'd just have to swing by my house and tell my mom while I gather some stuff."
"You'd really spend the night tonight?" Kelly raised an eyebrow hopefully.
"What are best friends for?" Donna replied with a smile. "You just sound like you need a friend tonight."
"Thanks, Don," she smiled back. "What would I do without you?"
"Talk to yourself a lot," Donna joked. "Come on, let's get out of here. Tom hasn't looked at me once tonight."
"In his defense, it's kind of hard to look away when your girlfriend's breasts are always at eye-level," Kelly laughed, standing up and smoothing down her dress. Donna threw up her hands.
"I know, right? She's been sitting like that all night!" Donna heaved a sigh. "Maybe I should take your advice and move on."
"There are other fish in the sea," Kelly agreed. She linked her arm through Donna's and grabbed her purse. "Let's get out of here." She paused. "You think I should go say goodbye to Brandon?" Donna shrugged.
"You go out to that patio, you run the risk of seeing Steve again," she reminded her. Kelly bit her lip and chewed thoughtfully, her heart thumping at the thought of Brandon.
"I'll take the chance," she decided, leading Donna through the kitchen, where there was thankfully no sign of Steve, and the girls slipped out the patio doors as other kids entered the house, empty glasses in hand. Kelly scanned the crowded patio, her eyes desperately searching for Brandon. She narrowed her eyes as her gaze landed on a gawky-looking blonde kid, who was standing next to a taller gawky-looking brunette boy. Both were staring in her direction, and she recognized them instantly. The taller of the two was a freshman named David Silver, and Kelly felt as if he was constantly stalking her. She looked away quickly, relief washing over her as she located Brandon, standing alone near a giant palm tree, Steve, again, nowhere in sight. She felt David's eyes still on her as she walked briskly towards Brandon, Donna at her heels.
"Kelly, Donna, hey," he smiled as the girls approached him. Kelly felt her stomach tighten as her eyes met his. "Sorry about the whole thing with Steve, Kelly," he added, silently hoping Steve wouldn't return and find him talking to Kelly.
"We just came over to say goodbye," she said softly, giving him another smile. She reached out and placed her hand on his forearm, drawing his gaze towards her. "Thanks," she added. Brandon looked down at her hand, and she immediately withdrew it.
"For?" he asked, confusion clouding his blue-green eyes. Kelly wanted to get lost in those pools of turquoise.
"You know. For trying with Steve. I shouldn't have even asked you, really, cause we all knew he wasn't going to stay away from me, but I know you would have done what you could," she smiled appreciatively. "You're a good guy, Brandon."
"You two are really leaving?" They both nodded in return.
"I really lost my will to have fun," she confessed.
"And Tom's not gonna give me the time of day," Donna jumped in, rolling her eyes mockingly. Brandon laughed.
"We just didn't want to be rude and leave without saying goodbye," Kelly reiterated.
"Well, thanks," Brandon replied. The three stood exchanging glances, Kelly's eyes locked firmly on Brandon's until Donna grabbed her arm and dragged her backwards a step.
"Come on, Kel," she coaxed. Donna gave Brandon a little wave and led Kelly away around the side of the house. Kelly looked back once before they disappeared through the wrought-iron gate.
Brandon sighed, wishing he could plan his own exit route rather than hang around and play designated driver for Steve.
***
"Where is she going?" David hissed to Scott, watching Kelly Taylor and that other blonde girl she was always with heading across the patio. The girls had just been talking to Brandon Walsh, who David knew was a junior who had transferred to West Beverly earlier that year and worked on the school newspaper. Other than that, he hadn't much cause to cross paths with the guy.
"It looks like they're leaving," Scott replied. Indeed, Kelly and the other girl swung open the same wrought-iron gate that David and Scott had slipped through about a half-hour earlier. Kelly turned at the last moment and looked back towards the patio, but her gaze was not in their direction, David noted. She appeared to be looking back at Brandon Walsh. David wrinkled his nose in annoyance.
"She can't leave!" he sputtered.
"She just did," Scott answered bluntly. David glared at his friend and jammed his hands in his pockets.
"Great! There goes my evening," he muttered, kicking at a low-wall that circled the right portion of the patio near where they were standing.
"We're here, we might as well try to have some fun!" Scott enthused brightly. David rolled his eyes in irritation at his friend's sudden change in attitude.
"How the hell am I supposed to talk to Kelly Taylor if she's not here?"
"Like she was gonna talk to you anyway," Scott laughed. "There are lots of pretty girls our age, David. Why don't you just focus on getting a girlfriend, instead of reaching beyond your means.?"
"Because I don't just want any girl, I want Kelly Taylor," he replied petulantly.
"Then you'll probably have to compete with Brandon Walsh, cause I don't know if you just saw the look she gave him, but…"
"Shut up, Scott," David cut him off.
"And, I've heard Steve Sanders is a pretty jealous ex, and he already hates you," Scott continued. David clenched his fists in anger.
"Are you done?" he asked nastily. Scott's eyes widened when he saw David's face, and he shrank back meekly.
"I'll shut up now," he said softly. David narrowed his eyes and thought carefully for a moment.
"I've got to find a way to get in with Kelly," he sighed.
"Um, what about your dad? If he starts dating Kelly's mom, you two will have to meet at some point," Scott offered. David shrugged.
"I don't want my dad dating her mom, that's gross. I need a better angle than that," he frowned. "I have to get closer to her, get to know more about her."
"Then you might as well start talking to Donna Martin," Scott suggested. "They're always together anyway. A slow grin spread over David's face as an idea sprang to mind.
"You know, you're not so dumb sometimes, Scanlon," he praised, clapping his friend on the back.
"What did I do?"
"You might have given me my in to Kelly Taylor," David crowed, shooting a sideways glance at Brandon Walsh. Game on, he swore silently.
***
"You're awfully quiet," Dylan mused, resting his right arm along the back of Brenda's seat as they cruised along towards home. Brenda wrung her hands in her lap, her eyes watching the flickering lights off the highway pass by as they drove.
"Just thinking, I guess," she replied softly, a dreamy smile on her face. Her body was still tingling from the sensations Dylan had stirred within her, and she replayed the previous hour in her mind. No guy had ever done those things to her before, and she couldn't have imagined she could feel so good. It was a dangerous precipice, she knew. If such little actions could feel so incredibly good, she was terrified to think how intense actual love-making with Dylan would be.
"Did you have a good time tonight?" he asked, holding back a smile, his tone coy. Brenda turned in her seat and gave him a knowing grin.
"I think that's an understatement," she laughed. Dylan's hand rose up from the seat and gently kneaded the nape of her neck. A quiver raced down her spine. She sighed. "I wish you weren't leaving me."
"Bren," he sighed. "I'm not leaving you. Don't look at it that way."
"You're going away for a week!" she exclaimed. "How am I supposed to look at it?"
"You can think how incredible our reunion can be," he suggested, his eyes gleaming wickedly in the dim of the car. Brenda's heart raced at the mere suggestion.
"I'm going to miss you," she murmured. "What am I supposed to do for a week?"
"I don't know. You'll have school to worry about, you can cram for the SATs…you can spend some time with Kelly and Donna. It's a wonder they haven't complained about you neglecting them."
"I don't neglect them," Brenda retorted, a slight pang of guilt thrumming in her.
"We spend a lot of time together Bren," Dylan replied. "If I were them, I'd miss you."
"They understand," she added. "Girls just know this stuff, how you need to be with someone when a relationship is new."
"That, or they're just not saying anything."
"Why are you trying to make me feel guilty?" she asked quietly, feeling mildly irritated at his accusation.
"I wasn't," he admonished. "I was just trying to point out that it'll be good for you to spend time with them when I'm with my dad. Trust me, Bren, I'm gonna miss you too." He eased the car to a stop at a red light and leaned over, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. "More than you'll know."
"It's gonna be a long week," she moaned, tilting her head back against the seat, her eyes darting across the star-speckled sky visible above the car. Most were faint, as a result of the night's cloud cover, the usual smog-choked sky, or both.
"You sure I can't persuade you to break curfew and come back to my room with me?" he drawled, revving the engine and shifting the car into gear as the light changed. The car lurched forward as a rush of wind lifted Brenda's hair.
"As much as I'd love to, Dylan, I can't. I can't give my parents reason not to trust me. You and me, we're just too new still to break the tenuous trust they have in me."
"You mean the trust they have in me," he corrected. "I know your parents, well, your dad anyway, aren't keen on me."
"That's not true," Brenda said slowly. "They're just, getting used to the idea of me being so serious with someone. I never really dated anyone I cared this much about back home…I mean, back in Minnesota." She chastised herself; sooner or later, she'd remember that this was home now.
"I'm not going to corrupt his little girl," Dylan rolled his eyes.
"I know," she nodded. "Give him time, he'll come around." She sighed and stared out the window again as more familiar sights caught her eye. They were getting closer to the Walsh house. She really didn't want the evening to end, especially since she knew it was her last with Dylan for a week. In teenage time that was like months she fretted silently.
"Last chance," he teased. "I can turn here and get us to the hotel in just a few minutes."
"I'm sorry," she smiled wryly. "You know it's not that I don't want to." For a fleeting moment, she considered it, especially since getting grounded would most likely involve roughly a week's punishment, and Dylan wouldn't even be around in that span of time. But her conscience took over, and she held her ground, upholding the promise she had made her parents. She couldn't risk making them doubt her. After all, one would never know when that trust might be needed down the road.
"Alright," he nodded as the car sped through the intersection, heading towards Hillcrest Drive.
They rode in silence for the final few minutes of the ride, Dylan easing the car into the Walshes' driveway within moments. He didn't turn off the car, which Brenda took as a sign that he wasn't going to walk her to the road. Instead, his hand gripped the back of her head and drew her to him, catching her by surprise as he lowered his lips to hers expectantly. He kissed her deeply, his tongue probing her mouth anxiously, feverishly.
"I'll miss you," he murmured, leaning his forehead against her own. Brenda swallowed and nodded.
"Me too," she whispered, tracing her fingertip along his jaw. "Be safe going down to Baja, okay?"
"Will do," he promised. "I'll try to call you when I get there tomorrow, once I reach my dad's bungalow, okay?"
"Okay," she smiled meekly, secretly thrilled that he knew she'd be concerned without her even saying a word. He gave her another quick, but passionate, kiss before releasing her.
"Night, Brenda," he smiled.
"Goodnight," she replied, exiting the car. "Thanks for an amazing night." She turned and stood in the driveway as he backed the car down towards the street, but the car idled there and he flashed the lights twice. She took it as a signal he wasn't leaving til she was safely inside, and she hugged her arms around herself tightly, practically floating towards the front door. She gave him a little wave as she turned the doorknob, knowing it would be unlocked and her parents would most likely be pretending to watch television on the couch. She had arrived home with four minutes to spare.
Dylan's car sped off down the road, and Brenda sighed, entering her house, still on cloud nine, yet at the same time utterly dejected.
The next week was going to be the longest week of her life.
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Author's Note: I'm sorry it took so long to update this. I hit some severe writer's block with this chapter, and I felt like I was merely rewriting the same scene over and over again, so it took quite a bit of work for it to feel authentic. I hope you guys agree. I think the night is over, but I guess we'll see once I start writing Chapter 9 where it starts itself. Who knows…it might be a late-night Walsh twins heart-to-heart.
B/D fans (if you're reading), please stick with the story even though Dylan will largely be MIA from the next chapters. I'm curious as to how you feel about the angle I'm going to give Brenda as opposed to her stupid "dropping out of school to be a stand up comedienne" angle.
And Donna fans, if there are any…I'm actually going to give her her own storyline, but I'm not entirely sure I'm going to have her with David. Any feedback is appreciated, since I don't have strong feelings either way! She's also not as easy to write during Season 1, cause we never got more than a "sidekick" angle to her. I'm doing my best interpreting her.
As for Steve…he needs someone, don't you think? *smile*
Thanks for reading! I hope not to make you wait as long next time, but the more feedback I get, the more inspired I feel. You don't know how much it means!
~Court~