Disclaimer: That '70s Show copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

CHAPTER TWO
LIGHTING THE FUSE

The second month of summer sped by in comparison to the first. After bowling together, Hyde and Jackie made a pact: no more watching The Price Is Right. If they did watch TV, it was Julia Child & Company or Donahue or any show that wouldn't kill their brain cells.

Usually, though, they spent their days outside the basement, playing Putt-Putt and pool. Going to the movies and the bowling alley. Sometimes Forman and Fez joined them, but mostly Hyde and Jackie were alone … and he didn't hate it.

One night, they went to an Aerosmith concert in Milwaukee. Her dad had gotten tickets as a thank-you from a client. Only two, and Forman added that to his List of Sadness.

"Aerosmith were kind of Donna's and my band," Forman said when Jackie presented the tickets in the basement. He, Hyde, and Fez had been playing Monopoly, and she offered the spare to whoever could be the least obnoxious for five minutes.

Hyde won that contest easily, but during the drive to Milwaukee, Jackie said, "I always planned on bringing you. I just didn't want to tip off Fez and Eric."

Tip them off to what? He and Jackie were hanging out. That was it. Never mind that she regularly occupied his mind while he jerked off. Or that he hadn't cruised for chicks since the summer started. With Forman obsessing about Donna—and Fez obsessing about his virginity—Jackie had become the least obnoxious person to be around.

Even when she got into a talking jag, he actually enjoyed it. Her monologues about fashion often deepened into discussions about philosophy and human behavior. The longer she was away from Kelso, the more Hyde saw of her brain. Maybe her fundamental self, too.

She rarely yawned when watching Donahue repeats with him, and scattered among judgmental comments like, "That lady's too fat for such a big print. Her floral shirt makes her look like an ugly couch," were insights that smashed his initial concept of her

"He feels shame because he thinks he's responsible for his mom's addiction," she said one afternoon. That day's Donahue was about the children of alcoholics. He would've changed the channel, but she'd stopped him. "It doesn't matter when people tell him he isn't," she said. "The belief is part of him, like he'd been indoctrinated by a cult."

"Or maybe he thinks he should've been able to stop her," Hyde said.

"It's both." She swept her hair from her shoulder, exposing the smooth, olive skin of her neck. The summer sun had darkened her complexion significantly, but he remained sunscreen-pale. "I promised my mom I'd get my grades back up, now that Michael's no longer a distraction. But will it keep her from drinking a bottle of wine every night?"

The rhetorical question dangled in the air between them. He tried to ignore it, but it shone so brightly that he could think of nothing else. "Your mom's a drunk?"

"No. She's not a drunk. She's an alcoholic."

"So an upper-class drunk."

Jackie's temple twitched. She was clenching her jaw and her fists. Everyone in town knew his parents were drunks, but her family hid within a high-society illusion. Her admission to him had to be tough. She'd probably never said the truth out loud before.

Memories of sharp fingernails, of hard-as-brick palms, surfaced in his skin. "What's she like?" he said.

"Sleepy … loose-lipped." She turned toward him on the couch, but her gaze sank to the cushions. "I've learned more about my dad's sexual habits than I ever wanted. … Sometimes she asks me for advice."

"Oh, man..." He swallowed the laughter rising in his throat. Amusement had nothing to do with it. He was uncomfortable, and he scratched the nape of his neck. "Edna used to screw my 'uncles' with the bedroom door open. Sometimes in the living room. Walked in on her … a lot."

She shuddered and stuck out her tongue. She was clearly skeeved out, but her gaze met his. "Once someone becomes a parent, she should stop having sex until her children move out."

"That's one reason I'm never havin' kids. I ain't giving up sex for eighteen years."

"Oh, God. Okay, revised rule: parents should not let their children know they're still having sex."

"Reasonable compromise," he said, and a smile rose to her lips. He couldn't help but grin back, a bad habit he'd formed whenever she smiled. But she'd given him other reasons to grin, too, like when she'd allowed him to teach her how to play chess.

"This game has too many rules," she'd said during their first match. She cupped her forehead and groaned. "I need forty aspirin."

She stayed with it though, and after ten games, she'd begun to challenge him on the board. If they could have another month to play, she might actually beat him. But once school started, their time alone together would end. It was a thought Hyde couldn't get out of his head.

Nine days were left in summer. Nine days before Jackie would be reabsorbed into the cheer squad, her life of gushing over Donny Osmond and Peter Frampton, and, quite possibly, Kelso.

"Steven, what's wrong?"

His focus shifted to Jackie. He'd been staring at the basement TV, but he had no idea what today's Donahue was about, and his fingers ached. One of the circular candles from the spool table was clutched in his left hand.

"Wrong?" he said, chuckling. "What's wrong is what that dude is wearing." He pointed at the TV and hoped one of Donahue's guests was a man.

"Yeah, his suit is two sizes too big," she said, and her leg pressed against his, transferring warmth. They were sitting on the couch together, part of their routine when no one else was around. "You can tell by where the seams of the sleeves hit his arms. They should be at his shoulders, but since when do you care about—or notice—what people wear?"

"I don't." He tossed the candle to his right hand. "I'm gettin' edgy, like I gotta commit a felony before cramming myself back into Point Place High."

"Oh, I know exactly what you mean!" Her hand landed on his thigh, closer to his knee than to his crotch. "I wish the mall would have one last half-off sale. Throwing elbows and hair-pulling are expected. It's such a rush!"

"Throwing elbows?"

She shrugged. "Sale rules are in effect."

"Huh." He suppressed the urge to lick his lips. Her hand still rested on his leg, and his blood sped toward it, as if magnetized. She'd been touching him a lot these past few weeks. Nothing that lasted too long. Nothing that indicated more than general affection, but his body responded with all the lust and intense affection he felt for her. Holding himself back was exhausting.

Hiding his hard-ons was easier. He'd gotten into the habit of tucking his dick into the waistband of his underwear. But he wanted her beyond sex. He woke up every morning craving her presence, and chaining his impulses had become progressively tougher. An attitude of indifference was his goal, but being with her made every part of him throb.

"I've got it!" she said and rubbed his thigh.

His jeans felt uncomfortably tighter at the movement. He swallowed and said, "Got what?"

"What we should do. We want some adrenaline, right? So why don't we—"

"Fuck?" He smirked, and she slapped his leg.

"No, you pig! Go to Funland."

The basement door slammed shut after her last word, and he leapt off the couch. Fez and Forman had entered, and Fez said, "Funland? I'm in."

"Me, too," Forman said. "I gotta get my mind off Donna. Looking at girls in their skimpy bathing suits just isn't cutting it." He clasped Fez's shoulder. "Sorry, Fez. You tried."

Neither of them seemed to notice that Hyde and Jackie had been sitting together. But as precaution, Hyde made a show of returning the candle to the spool table. "Tomorrow," he said and gestured to everyone, including Jackie. "Get your asses here by nine. We'll take Forman's car. I'll drive."

"You?" Forman sighed and looked down at his hands. "I guess you're right. My reflexes are dulled. I just … I miss Donna so much."

"We get it!" Hyde, Jackie, and Fez shouted together.

"'I miss her,'" Fez said, imitating Forman. "'I love her.' 'I want her to come home.' Write another song already."

"Believe me, I tried." Forman brushed his shaggy bangs off his forehead. He sat on the armrest of the couch. "But nothing rhymes with California. "

"Why don't you call her?" Jackie said. "I'm sure her dad has her phone number."

"Yes." Fez went to the bookshelf under the wooden stairs. He grabbed Forman's Scooby-Doo lunch box from it and and presented it like a model on The Price Is Right. "Inside this magical box is the money you need to make that phone call. Do it, Eric. Do it and set us free!"

Forman rushed to Fez's side and snatched the lunch box from him. "Money? What money. There's no money inside here." He put the box back on the shelf. "And, anyway, there's too much to say over the phone. We haven't seen each other in almost two months. It's the longest we've ever been apart."

"If you don't count the year you were broken up," Hyde said and moved to the basement door. "Well, I'm outta here."

Jackie got to her feet. "Me, too."

He didn't wait for her. He climbed the stone staircase and strolled to the driveway. Once he got into the Camino, however, he let the engine idle.

Jackie's reflection appeared in his rearview mirror moments later. He gestured to her through the driver-side window, leaned to the passenger-side door and opened it for her.

She slid into the seat beside him. "Where are we going?"

"Do you care?"

"Not really, as long as it's not here."

That was his girl. He pressed on the gas and drove onto the street, but as the trees flew by, he reminded himself that she'd never actually be his.

The vivid colors of Funland collided with the shrieks of children. Combined with the air's salted caramel scent, Jackie's senses were overloaded. The popcorn cart by the entrance must've had some kind of fan, blowing its aroma through the park. She focused on a pine-green bench and gathered her thoughts. Would she be going on rides by herself? Playing carnival games to win herself prizes? That was what happened whenever she'd come here with Michael.

"Ooh, the ring toss has a giant stuffed dog as a prize!" Fez said. "I must win that for Kelso." He headed down Fun Street but pivoted to the right and darted into Sweet Auntie's Candy. The pastel-blue store would occupy him for at least a half-hour. It always did.

Eric clapped his hands together once. "Okay, you two, what do we hit first? Jungle Land? The Royal Kingdom? Or do we play some rigged carnival games?"

"How's about the Death Coaster?" Steven said.

"D-death Coaster?" Eric's face grew pale. "Couldn't we start with something milder, like the Dolphin Go-Round?"

"That's for babies," Jackie said. "You won't even fit."

"I dunno," Steven said. "He fit himself into a cardboard box this big." He mimed the dimensions of a three-by-three foot box. "He's like a scrawny contortionist."

Eric waved his hand dismissively. "Let's not exaggerate. The box had give, but if you want to go on rides, let's pick one that won't make me vomit."

She scowled and crossed her arms over her chest. Eric was supposed to have partnered up with Fez. She and Steven had planned to ride the most thrilling coasters today. "Or," she said, "you could try to win Donna a prize."

"Win Donna a prize?" Eric turned toward Fun Street. "Which—which one?"

"Something big." She gestured at the plush lions of the Frog Launcher booth. "Something that'll take you multiple tries to win. It'll be symbolic. Once she sees that giant lion, she'll understand how hard you'll work to earn her back."

Steven glanced at his watch. "Yup. Nothing shows a woman how committed you are to a relationship like a cheap stuffed animal."

"You know what? You're right." Eric dug into his jeans pocket and pulled out a few quarters. "I'm gonna launch the hell out of those slimy, rubber frogs."

He raced down Fun Street and disappeared into a crowd of kids, but Steven kept looking at his watch. Maybe the sensory overload of Funland getting to him, too.

Jackie sat on the edge of a raised flower bed and shut her eyes. A deep breath clogged her nose with salty-sweet aroma, but Steven saturated her brain.

She'd never been one to settle. When she wanted something—or someone—she found a way to get it. But she couldn't force him to have feelings for her. She'd tried that once, and in the end they'd both felt nothing for each other.

That wasn't quite the truth. She'd been numb, experiencing the kind deadness that accompanied terror. She'd learned that from Donahue. Kissing Steven had frightened her beyond physical and emotional sensation. Falling for him, truly falling, meant being unsure at every step. Could he commit to one girl? Did he want to?

She'd been over these questions before, but her heart wasn't strong enough to be broken by him. He understood her on a level she barely understood herself. Being with him was like exploring another land, one he'd abandon her to if she asked for more than friendship.

A familiar warmth slid over her shoulder. "Jackie," Steven said, and she looked at him with wet, blurry eyes, "what's goin' on?"

"The smell," she said and coughed for effect. "It's too much."

"So let's go. The popcorn cart ain't gonna follow us." His hand slipped from her shoulder to her palm, and his fingers closed loosely around it. He was holding her hand. Steven Hyde was holding her hand willingly, and she blotted her eyes with her wrist. "Death Coaster?" he said.

"As long as you promise not to scream in my ear. It's still ringing from the last time I'd..." gone on a twisty, stomach-plummeting roller coaster with Michael. But she didn't say that out loud Steven's expression became blank whenever she mentioned Michael, as if he were retreating inside himself. Michael's absence this summer probably upset him, just like Donna's absence was upsetting her.

He nodded to where Eric had disappeared. "Forman's the screamer.. And the puker."

"Good," she said, and he tugged her in the direction of the Death Coaster. She risked curling her fingers around his palm, but he didn't let go. He tightened his grip, and their hands fit together snugly.

Perfectly.

The Formans' phone rang. Four phones, to be exact, and Hyde picked up the call in the basement. Jackie glanced at him on the couch. Her big, brown eyes communicated an emotion he had trouble identifying. Curiosity or maybe disappointment, but he definitely experienced the latter himself as Forman's voice came through the earpiece: "Hyde? We're an hour away."

"Cool," Hyde said. "Your folks'll be back from Jaws II in half that."

"Damn. Don't let them into the kitchen, okay? They can't catch Kelso pulling into the driveway."

"Fez is already on it. He left a melted chocolate bar on their sheets. They'll have no idea if it's shit or candy. Either way, it'll keep 'em busy."

Forman laughed. "That's great. I knew I could count on you."

They hung up after a quick good-bye, and Hyde blew out a breath. His summer with Jackie was packed with dynamite, A spark was traveling inexorably to blow it up, ignited a few days ago by a missed phone call from Donna. But he and Fez had bought Forman a ticket to California. Forman's stash of dough in his Scooby-Doo thermos was just enough to cover it.

"How long?" Jackie said.

"An hour."

She pulled on her skirt. It covered her knees, but she tugged on it as if that would lengthen it to her ankles. "Eric should've just called her back."

"He was determined to see her. Didn't want him driving to Cali. He'd probably get lost somewhere in Iowa."

"Yeah. It was nice of you to get him that ticket..." she looked at him with the same, wide-eyed expression as before, "but I'm not ready for Michael to come home."

Neither was he, but he couldn't do anything about it. She'd be pissed at Kelso for a week. A month, tops. Then she'd forgive him, and the Jackie that Hyde respected—hell, that he admired—would be gone.

"What are we going to do?" She frowned, and the couch seemed to shrink by half its size. He had to jump up, to get as far away from her as possible. He needed to cradle her face in his hands and kiss that frown off it.

"About what?" he said instead.

"Us hanging out. Eric's been so upset over Donna that he hasn't noticed. And Fez doesn't notice anything unless it's covered in chocolate. But Eric's happy now, and he'll see what we're doing. Then he'll Donna, who'll tell Fez—who'll tell Michael."

He stretched his arm over the back of the couch, but he was careful not to touch her. At worst, she was afraid Kelso would get the wrong idea, that he'd think she and Hyde were fooling around. At best, she was worried about her reputation. But Hyde's rep was the one at stake. Forman would burn him to cinders if he realized what Hyde had been doing all summer.

"There's nothin' to tell, man. We played chess and went bowling."

"Steven."

"What?"

She laid her hand on top of his, the one resting on the back of the couch. "Do I really mean nothing to you?"

Her touch set off tiny explosions in his skin. He withdrew his hand and scratched his beard with it. "We're cool."

"That's it?" She squinted at him. "'We're cool'?"

"What else do you want?"

"Oh, I don't know. Something like, 'Jackie, you've become one of my best friends this summer. We're still going to hang out, no matter what anyone says."

He pushed himself up to the couch's armrest and sat on it. Jackie Burkhart wasn't one of his best friends. She was the girl who'd hacked up his thoughts and screwed his sanity. "We can still hang out."

"Reassuring."

"Listen..." He chewed on the inside of his cheek and considered his next words carefully. "Jackie, the second we're in school again, you'll go back to the cheer squad. Your breakup with Kelso's gotta be old news by now. This summer'll fade, and you'll move on."

"And what'll you do?"

"Same as always."

"Then I guess we're back to where we were a month ago." She left the couch for the wooden staircase but paused at the first step. "Even if you can't say it—or, honestly, have no reason to say it—I will: you mean something to me."

She vanished up the stairs, and he scrubbed a hand over his face. She meant more to him than he'd ever admit aloud. Telling her the truth would get him nowhere. He'd made the same choice after their first kiss, and what he'd experienced this summer wasn't enough to change his mind. Maybe another guy could chisel Kelso out of her heart, but Hyde didn't have the tools.