Chapter 19

Billie walked outside of her school, a lone figure, and started toward the parking lot and the street ahead. She was rather amazed at how easy it had been to not only slip out but to remain unnoticed. Did anyone even care? She found it so difficult to believe that it was that easy to misbehave. Shouldn't they at least make it hard for them? It was as if people were even persuaded to act out and then not readily met with altercation. Wasn't it all leading up to one big disaster? She was absurdly grateful that the majority of people were honest and respectful, unlike herself in the current moment.

She was leaving to, of all things, allow herself on a date with a man much older than herself. She felt she had to; no one would let her otherwise. Was it automatically wrong because she had to lie about it? Was being deceitful, in any manner, a pure reflection of the action itself? It didn't seem wrong. Sure, she understood the technicalities of it, of how a young girl such as herself was not supposed to romantically pair with a man such as him, but she was blinded by feeling. Wasn't it natural? Weren't they just two people who felt something, strong and unyielding, to the point worthy of a gamble? She had been told, time and again from books to spoken word and even in religion, that love was something to fight for; held higher than all else.

It was love, she conceded, in a fledgeling and raw form. What would anyone else think given the realization of their deepest desires? She thought of Mary again, the younger girl who was now somewhat of a conscience for Billie. She would be in class, slaving away over some book or lecture. Behaving. How horrified would she be if she knew of her best friend was off gallivanting with her beloved uncle?

She continued forward, pushing the boundaries even more by advancing to the street beyond. For a brief moment she wondered if he'd even be there. She tired to imagine things and how they would stand if he stood her up. It would all, surely, be lost. He hadn't been in the parking lot but perhaps he was further away. He had told her he might be that far.

John nervously tapped the steering wheel. He was alarmed to find waiting there, out on the street outside the school by a patch of trees, was similar to the feeling of driving a get-away car; waiting for the contributors while chaos happened a short distance away. His senses were heightened and did feel as though an outside source would capture Billie and take her away from him. His relief when he saw a familiar figure in the rear-view mirrors was a burden being lifted. Starting the car he met her halfway, the door opening and she sliding into the seat with as much eagerness.

"Hi doll." He was beaming.

"Jimmy," she said breathlessly, sitting half on her knees and embracing him around the neck. John tired to imagine she'd said his real name and held her with one arm, the other starting the car down the street.

She sat back on her legs though closer in the seat than she'd ever been, grinning at the side of his face. He looked to her fleetingly from the windshield, giving her a wink when he was able. He was chewing gum but it did not interfere with his smile. Now that they were together almost all doubt had been removed and what was left was pure, excited happiness. They were in a new, open place with one another, a place both of them wished to explore. Billie was getting more comfortable with him, the hug she'd just given a prime example. John extended his hand, letting it rest on her knee. She took his fingers in her own and rested their fists in her lap.

"How does it feel...being bad?"

"It was too easy," she answered casually to which he chuckled. If only she knew what he considered bad.

"I have something for you," he remembered suddenly, and before she could ask his hand parted from her briefly to reach into the backseat. In a moment he revealed a large flower bouquet, giving it to her with one hand. She let go a quite gasp. There were reds and pinks and yellows and whites, all in different shades, and no two flowers looked alike. She looked up to him in awe and back to the huge bouquet in her hands. He watched as best he could, seeing that she seemed too surprised to speak. "I didn't know which flower was your favorite, so I had them put in one of each," he explained.

Looking up again she grinned with a laugh at his extravagance. "Did you?" She could hardly believe anyone would go to such a length to please her. Her opinion had never mattered so much. "Well," she told him conversationally as she continued to study the flowers. "You thought correct. I don't have a favorite."

He smirked and their hands joined together again. John had a liking to giving gifts, and when he was in favor to afford high expenses, nothing was too extravagant. He noticed that Billie didn't have many surprises or fine things and any effort he put out was returned vehemently. He wanted to please her, dote upon and spoil her. It was his way of showing affection.

That day he was going to take her to a fine restaurant- another indulgence. There would be nothing but good, delicious food to eat, a quiet and romantic atmosphere, and most importantly they would not be disturbed. Some minutes later he was pulling into the parking lot, Billie gathering her bag to go in. He paused, assuring her she wouldn't need it, but she replied by saying she had brought another outfit and planned to change. He looked at the clothes she was wearing, a simple shaped and patterned dress. There was nothing wrong with it, nor did she need to worry about being fancy, and told her so.

With a small smile he reached out, touching a strand of her dark hair that dangled near her shoulder. "But you look beautiful right now," he told her softly, twirling the strand around his finger. She gave him a little smile but didn't let go of the bag.

"I'd still like to change."

He wouldn't tell her no. They left the car and the flowers, knowing they would fend better in water but having to do for the time being. Once in the building instead of heading straight for the dining room they found the bathrooms. Billie went in, bag in hand, and John waited outside leaning against the wall. It was a typical position many joked about- man and woman, man endlessly waiting on the other. However, knowing that his woman was Billie erased all frustration or embarrassment he might have had. As far as he was concerned, he was lucky to have her; that she was even there at all. He ditched his gum and remained at his post against the wall in time to see the door open slowly.

When she appeared she was wearing the same lace dress she'd worn to the dance.

"You like that dress?" he mused with a satisfied smile. He was capable of giving her a whole wardrobe of dresses even finer than that.

Self-conscious, she took an easy breath when she saw the familiar glitter in his eye. "It's the nicest thing I own," she admitted quietly. He assured her again that she looked beautiful and escorted her toward the dining room.