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

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
SPINNING OUT

Jackie, like the rest of her classmates in study hall, was actually doing homework. Pencils scribbling on paper had replaced chitchat and laughter, but tomorrow was the trip to Quartz Falls State Park. With early-morning wake-up calls, three-hour hikes, and days full of lessons in wilderness skills, no academic work would get done.

Her stomach growled as she graphed her last linear equation. She hadn't eaten much at all since Saturday. Usually her appetite grew stronger when she felt hopeless, but it was thinned out, weakened by Steven, Michael, and her parents.

She drew a plot point on her graph paper, but something jostled the table she shared with Valerie and Leslie. Jackie's pencil jumped, creating a garbage line across her graph. She grunted and peered up from her homework. Valerie had leapt from her seat. Her muscular legs must've knocked the table.

"Mrs. Fletcher," she said to the study hall supervisor, "may Jackie and I leave a little early? We have important cheer business to discuss before the trip tomorrow."

"Of course, Valerie," Mrs. Fletcher said from her desk. She pulled two hall passes from a drawer and wrote on them. Valerie could get almost anything from her. In fact, most people could. As far as study hall supervisors went, Mrs. Fletcher was the most lenient.

Valerie retrieved the hall passes and tapped Jackie's arm. "Pack up."

"Why?" Jackie said. Fifteen minutes were left in study hall, and she'd planned to start on her history homework next. "What's this 'cheer business' about anyway?"

"I'll tell you outside. Pack up." Valerie's orders weren't meant to be taken as suggestions, and Jackie did as instructed. Beside her, Leslie put away her own homework, but Valerie said, "Not you." She clasped Leslie's shoulder. "You stay here."

Leslie grabbed her backpack. "But—"

"Not. You."

"All right..." Leslie returned her homework to the table and kept her head down.

Jackie hefted her backpack onto her shoulders, but it was light in comparison to the grief she carried. She followed Valerie into the hallway and to the make-out alcove, of all places.

The alcove was actually a circular window, like a giant porthole on a ship. It looked into the lobby downstairs, allowing students to spy on one another other. It was also big enough that two students could comfortably sit together or even lie down, as long as one student was on top of the other.

Jackie had made out with Michael here many times. She'd also glimpsed, from the lobby, Steven kissing random girls in the window. Valerie's choice of the alcove as a talking spot was dubious, and Jackie braced herself. She had to remain steady in voice, steady on her feet.

Valerie sat on the curved sill with her backpack between her legs. "I learned some terrible information yesterday," she said, "and as your cheer captain, I feel it's my duty to tell you."

"What?" Jackie placed a hand on her rumbling stomach. "Did we lose our bid to compete at the regional this year?"

"No, no. Nothing that horrendous, at least for the team. We'll be in Milwaukee this December." Valerie paused for effect, as she often did. "This is just about you."

"Me?"

"Unfortunately, you've attracted the wrong kind of person to yourself. Steven Hyde is in love with you."

Jackie's skin prickled and became hot at the same time, and she gripped the material of shirt. "How, exactly, did you learn this?"

"He all but said so."

"To you?"

"Yes." Valerie slid her hands over her knees and lowered her voice. "I confronted him about Julie, about what he did to the poor thing. She's still pining after his tongue. Can you believe that? Pathetic. But he couldn't hide how he feels about you. I mean, Jackie..."

She laughed, and her perfectly curled hair bounced against her cheeks. "You should've seen us. I really let him have it. Cheerleaders stand up for their own, but the only cheerleader he wants is you."

Jackie's backpack slipped from her shoulders to the floor. Valerie's lies weren't hard to discern, but she sounded genuine. That meant the only liar was Steven.

On Saturday, he'd accused Jackie of using him to get back at—and get over—Michael. His anger was obvious, not mixed into a haiku or sarcastic insult. His openness with her had matched his pain. Because he felt something for her. Since their first kiss, he'd felt something and lied about it.

Her stomach was empty, but it pressed down on her other organs. Breathing had become harder, too. Maybe her diaphragm was squeezing her stomach instead of making room for her lungs.

"He loves me," she whispered.

Valerie reached forward and patted Jackie's hip. "Feel free to scream with horror."

Jackie did scream, but not in any way Valerie could hear. She screamed inside herself at herself. After pursuing Steven for months, declaring her love for him, and their kiss, she went back to Michael. Not immediately, but Steven's perspective about her made total sense.

"He loves me," she said again, this time with more power. Her lungs expanded in her chest with a deep breath, and she shouted, "He loves me!"

"And you love Michael," Valerie said. "It's so very Shakespearean."

Jackie jerked back her head. Valerie might as well have smacked her in the face. "I'm dating Mark—"

"It's okay, Jackie..." Valerie grasped Jackie's hand with both of her cold ones. "I know you've been putting on a show with that Ft. Blanderson boy. And now you've got that shabby, burnout loser lusting after you."

"He is not a loser!" She yanked her hand free from Valerie's. "Yeah, he needs a haircut and a shave, but he's not shabby, either. You've never really looked at him. If you had, you would've seen how smart and poetic and compassionate and noble he is. Remember our game against Green Bay Prep last year?"

"Mm-hmm." Valerie turned from Jackie to the window. A few students roamed the lobby below, but Valerie's fingers combed through her curls. Only her own reflection seemed to be of interest to her.

Jackie's thoughts trembled with her pulse. Valerie was close to ending this conversation, but Jackie said, "Steven sacrificed a lot so I could cheer at that game. He didn't even like me yet, not really, but he protected me—"

Valerie whipped her face toward her. "By doing what?"

"Risking his future. Do you truly think Michael would do the same for you?"

"I'm making his future," Valerie said, "and you better be more careful with yours."

She stood up and cast a shadow over Jackie. Valerie's extra half-foot of height could be intimidating, but her social power was far more threatening. "You've been giving me the run-around since school started," she went on. "First with Ft. Blanderson. Now with Steven Hyde, but the truth is you're in love with Michael..." She frowned, but it had the subtext of a grin. It was an expression that took years to master. "And I have him."

She grabbed her backpack, and as she strutted to the stairwell, Jackie sank onto the curved window sill. The hallway was spinning.

"Don't faint," Jackie whispered. She'd never passed out in her life, except for the time Michael tossed her onto that trampoline. Her eyes squeezed shut at the memory, at her dizziness, but her thoughts spiraled around her brain. Steven thought she loved Michael. Donna and Valerie did, too. They weren't wrong, but loving someone and being in love with someone weren't the same.

The only thrills Michael gave her now were the horror-movie kind. They created an urge in her to stab his stupid, beautiful face, but that wasn't good. She needed to feel nothing for him. Otherwise, Steven would feel nothing for her anymore but contempt.

Michael emerged from Mr. Ortega's Spanish class with a crowd of students. One of his backpack straps dangled freely, and Jackie grabbed it and dragged him to the wall.

"Hello, Michael," she said.

"Jackie." He brushed a hand through his hair, as if her move had messed it up. "How'd you know where to find me?"

The third-floor hallway was emptying out. In a minute or two, no other students would be left. Everyone was heading to the cafeteria or outside for lunch, but she needed more privacy than that.

"You stole a copy of my schedule," he said. "You're stalking me!"

"No. Valerie has your schedule memorized, and she likes to recite it." She switched her grip from his backpack to his shirt. She twisted her hand in it, exposing his belly, but he wouldn't escape her. "You're going to wait with me. Then you're going to go where I tell you."

He chuckled nervously. "Okay..."

Mr. Hill, the ninth grade English teacher, followed the last of his students from his classroom. He had a long stride, and he reached the stairwell in moments. His classroom was just across the hall—perfect—and Jackie yanked Michael to it.

"Jackie—" Michael said as she shoved him inside the room. She locked the door behind them. The lights were off, but sunlight streamed in through the windows.

"I've thought about your offer," she said, "about being your mistress. Since I have a boyfriend, you'd technically be my mistress, too." She herded him to Mr. Hill's desk. The farther they were from the door, the better. "I'm giving you the chance to wow me. If you succeed, we can talk terms."

"Are you serious?" He dropped his backpack, and his hands landed on her hips. His touch stiffened her spine, but her body didn't tingle. "Baby..."

He lifted her onto Mr. Hill's desk, and his lips went to her neck. He always started with the neck. She held onto his back for support as her racing heart broke the sound barrier. The resulting shockwaves made her shake, but he continued his usual routine, sucking the skin near her jawline and fondling her breasts over her shirt.

"Not wowing me, Michael."

"Sorry."

He cupped her cheeks and focused his attention on her mouth. His tongue parted her lips, and as she let him in deeper, her hands wandered to his head. His hair was soft, and the kiss was powerful, but her blood throbbed no lower than her chest.

She moved her face to the side, and his lips skimmed wetly across her cheek. "Mmm … no," she said and strengthened her hold onto his head, both for better control of him and to steady herself. The desk beneath her was bobbing, as if the classroom floor had become the ocean. She really should've eaten something this morning, but her appetite was gone. "Unzip my pants."

"All right!" His fingers went to the fly of her jeans. He popped open the button and tugged down the zipper. He started to take off his own pants, but she pulled his hair. "Ow!"

"No, Michael. Your pants stay on. Only mine go off."

"But what fun is that for me?"

She pulled his hair again.

"God—fine! So bossy." He shoved her jeans to her ankles. His fingers glided past the hem of her panties and between her thighs. The sensation was familiar, and his technique wasn't half-bad, but she stopped him a few seconds in. "Now what?" he said.

"This has to be worth it." She drew his head closer and pushed it gently toward her lap. He'd done the same to her when they dated, begging her to spit-shine his love gun. Nothing romantic or loving had been part of it, which is why she'd refused. But today could change all that. "Do you understand?"

"Can't we just do it?"

"No! It's this or nothing. Make your pick."

He groaned like she'd told him to do her homework, but he dragged her panties over her thighs. His hands grasped her knees. He knelt on the classroom floor, and she shut her eyes as his face went between her legs.

Her body jerked at the first contact of his tongue. He'd found the right spot, like he'd done this before, but every flick of his tongue burned. Her legs quivered, and tears rose in her eyes. She whimpered as a scorching ache spread into her stomach. Her feelings for Michael still existed, but only as hollowed-out shells. Their contents had rotted away.

"You're a lie!" she blurted as a faint orgasm quaked through her. The fire torturing her nerves consumed any real pleasure, and she crushed his jaws with her thighs. "Everything I thought you were, it isn't true!"

He yowled in pain and fell backward to the floor. "This is why I never give head!" he shouted. "I have never had a good experience giving head!"

Tears slipped down her cheeks. The ache in her stomach had become nausea, and she pulled up her panties and jeans with shaky arms. Steven would never forgive her for this experiment, but the results were definitive. "I'm not in love with you, Michael."

"Putting on a brave face … but don't worry. I won't tell Valerie about us." He reached toward her from the floor. "A little help?"

Valerie. Laurie. Pam Macy, and all the girls Jackie had no names for. They could provide Michael with one fleeting joy after another, but none lasted. Not even his memories with Jackie had left a permanent mark, except to create a sense of ownership.

She hopped off the desk, drew back her foot, and kicked him in the balls. "Help yourself!"

Bands of sunlight and heat flowed over her as she strode to the classroom door. She had to get out of here, but the dying throb between her legs sapped her strength. Her pace was slowing, and Michael sobbed behind her. Yet how many days and nights had he made her cry? She'd held onto him so long, desperately hoping their experiences would change him. That he'd grow into the man she envisioned.

Instead of dissipating, those delusions had stayed with her. For months … for years. Transforming into possessiveness, even as she fell in love with Steven.

But Steven was already whom she needed him to be. Wanted him to be, but their first kiss had led them to a seemingly endless stalemate.

She opened the classroom door but clutched the knob. Her thoughts were dizzying, or maybe it was the lack of food. The hallway outside spun like a carousel at top speed. She tried calling for Michael, but her hand slipped from the door as everything went dark.

Timmy burst into The Hub through the front door, and Hyde swallowed down a bite of burger. "Coach Ferguson's finally divorcing Joyce," Hyde said, getting in his guess first.

He was sitting at the corner booth with Forman and Fez, but the appearance of Timmy Wilson always triggered a game. Timmy was Point Place High's loudest—and most obnoxious—gossip. Whoever guessed closest to Timmy's latest rumor won a quarter from each player.

"Jake Bradley," Forman said. "Off the football team."

Hyde scowled. "No way. Fez?"

Fez began to speak, but Timmy shouted by the door, "Jackie Burkhart passed out! Jackie Burkhart passed out!"

A group of cheerleaders at another table gasped. Students by the jukebox whispered to each other, and Hyde charged from the booth to Timmy.

"Jackie—" Hyde said

"Passed out!" Timmy finished, and Hyde grabbed him by the shirt collar. "What?"

"Where is she?" Hyde shook him but not too hard. For such a loudmouth, Timmy was a little guy. "Kenosha Memorial?"

"J-just the nurse's office."

Hyde let him go but left The Hub without waiting for Forman and Fez. The pavement vibrated through his body as he raced back to school. People on the sidewalk became obstacles to avoid, and yellow-leafed trees blurred together. Jackie had to be all right. He hadn't seen her all morning, but she had to be all right.

He reached the lobby within three minutes. It was more crowded than usual at lunch time, full of girls from the cheer squad. They'd gathered near the reception desk, and he headed toward them. Their presence all but confirmed Timmy's rumor.

Sweat plastered Hyde's shirt sleeves to his arms, and his suede jacket weighed him down like iron armor, but he didn't slow his pace. Mrs. Dooley shouted something as he passed her desk, but he ignored her and entered the administrative hallway. The nurse's office was around the corner, and on the bench outside it were Kelso and Valerie, making out.

"Hey!" Hyde said and yanked on Kelso's T-shirt collar..

Kelso coughed and peered up from Valerie. "Hey! yourself, Hyde!" he croaked out. "Don't choke a guy who's Frenching someone!" .

The door to the nurse's office was closed, and Hyde jutted his chin toward it. "Jackie's in there?"

"Yeah..." Kelso rubbed his throat. "I found her on the third floor. She woke up all disoriented, and I helped her get down here."

"Poor thing," Valerie said, and her obvious insincerity stiffened Hyde's shoulders. "I'm so worried about her."

"Sure you are," Hyde said.

He grasped the door knob to the nurse's office, and Kelso said, "You're not allowed in there. Nurse kicked me out."

Hyde turned the knob and stepped inside. No one was keeping him out. He glanced around for Jackie, but a curtain separated the front part of the office from the back.

Nurse Davenport was sitting at her desk, flipping through a student roster. "Unless you require medical attention," she said, "you'll have to leave."

"Think I got a fever," he said and shut the door behind him.

"Oh." She left the roster on the desk and brought him a thermometer. "Put this under your tongue. You can sit over there." She gestured to a row of three chairs, near the curtain. "And, please, sit quietly. There's a student recovering from a bit of a dizzy spell.

He gave her a thumbs-up and stuck the thermometer under his tongue. He sat in the chair closest to the curtain, and Nurse Davenport busied herself at her desk, back facing him. Exactly what he needed. Unless she had superhuman hearing or an invisible mirror only she could see, she wouldn't catch him.

He pulled the curtain aside an inch and glimpsed Jackie on the office cot. She was sitting up, eating a sandwich, and drinking something from a plastic cup. She seemed fine, but he had to be sure. He pulled the curtain back further, and the pallor of her skin smashed into his chest. Her cheeks were bloodless, like a vampire had sucked out all her blood, and the thermometer fell from his mouth.

"Steven?" She put her food on the tray table beside her. "What are you—"

"For God's sake!" Nurse Davenport rushed to the curtain, but Jackie stopped her from closing it. "Jackie," Nurse Davenport said, "you need to eat and rest."

"I also need to talk to Steven."

Nurse Davenport picked up the thermometer and pointed at Hyde with it. "Is he your friend?"

Jackie looked at him, as if expecting him to answer for her. "Whatever she needs from me," he said, "she's got it."

Jackie grabbed her sandwich again. "Yes. He's my friend."

Nurse Davenport glanced at the thermometer then at him. Her dark eyebrows furrowed, and she touched the wispy ends of her hair. "I hope you're a good one because that's what she needs."

"Steven's one of the best friends I've ever had," Jackie said. It was a title he hadn't earned, and he scratched his fingers through his beard. "So please don't freak him out about what happened."

"You're not here because you feel sick," Nurse Davenport said to him. He shook his head, and she dropped the thermometer into her pocket. "That's just as well."

But he did feel sick. Jackie had passed out, and he hadn't been around to help her. "So what's the deal?" he said.

Jackie sipped her drink, orange juice from the looks of it, before answering. "I skipped breakfast this morning, and I fainted."

"People don't normally faint from skipping breakfast, " he said. Not unless they had an underlying condition.

"No," Nurse Davenport said, "but they can from skipping dinner the night before, too, and from being under an inordinate amount of stress—"

"Hey, that's private!" Jackie slammed her cup onto the tray. "What happened to nurse-student confidentiality?"

Nurse Davenport cupped Jackie's shoulder and kept her voice even. "Jackie, someone you trust has to know." She turned toward Hyde. "She has no immediate signs of concussion, but some symptoms can present themselves hours or even days after a head trauma."

"I don't have head trauma," Jackie said and pointed at her forehead. "Do you see any bruising? Do you? I'm a cheerleader, Nurse Davenport. I'm trained how to fall."

"At any rate," Nurse Davenport continued, still speaking to Hyde, "someone has to drive her home and stay with her in case the symptoms of concussion present themselves. Both her parents are out of town for the week, and her housekeeper, apparently, is the designated guardian..."

The disapproval in her tone was hard to miss, and Jackie stared at the wall. She had almost half a sandwich left to eat, but she'd stopped touching it.

He forced himself to stay quiet, to breathe through his nose. Showing his anger wouldn't help the situation. It would only make Jackie shut down further.

"Unfortunately," Nurse Davenport said, "Ms. Pérez is only at the Burkharts' residence during mornings and evenings—is that right, Jackie?"

Jackie nodded, still facing the wall.

"And the emergency contact listed is her aunt Elizabeth, who lives in Michigan—"

"I'll help her out," he said, partly to get Nurse Davenport to quit shoving tent stakes into Jackie's pride. "What should I look out for?"

Nurse Davenport hurried to her desk, grabbed a sheet of paper from it, and gave it to him. "That lists the symptoms. If she displays any of them, you'll have to bring her to the hospital."

He read the paper as she returned to the desk. She began to write on a yellow Excused Absence slip, what students called an E.A.S., but he focused on the concussion symptoms. They included trouble concentrating, a sensitivity to noise and light, and personality or mood shifts. That last one would be tough to for him to judge. Not eating, being "under an inordinate amount of stress," parents stranding her for a week— Jackie's mood should be crappy.

"Hand this to Mrs. Dooley," Nurse Davenport said and passed him the E.A.S. "This excuses you from classes the rest of the day."

"Cool." He only had art, study hall, and gym left, and Coach Ferguson probably wouldn't let him participate anyway. His only pair of sneakers was dead. "Jackie," he said and put the E.A.S. into his jeans pocket, "what's your locker combo?"

"What?" Jackie finally moved her gaze from the wall. "Why do you need that?"

"To get your stuff." And to check if her memory was intact. Another concussion symptom was memory problems. "You're not goin' upstairs." He folded up the symptoms sheet and shoved it in the same pocket as the E.A.S. "You're staying here and finishing that sandwich."

"Steven, you don't have to do this. I can drive myself—"

Nurse Davenport put up a hand. "Absolutely not. Jackie, I will make this bigger than it is if you don't cooperate."

"Fine." Jackie swiped the sandwich off the tray and bit into it. "Tmfy-tff, mapf, mrffy," she said while chewing.

Hyde laughed quietly. "Yeah, not gonna be able to open your locker from that."

"Fine!" Jackie shouted after swallowing her bite. "Twenty-two, eight, thirty. And the locker is number—"

"217," he said, already on his way out of the nurse's office. He'd seen her at her locker more than once.

Kelso and Valerie were no longer in the waiting area. They'd put on their show of giving a shit and cleared out. Forman and Fez were sitting on the bench in their place, but they both stood as soon as Hyde shut the office door.

"How is she?" Forman said.

Fez grasped Hyde's upper arms. "Tell me she's okay. She's okay, isn't she? Tell me she's okay!"

"She'll be fine." Hyde would make sure of it. "Forman, you're drivin' my car home today." He pushed Fez off him, plucked his car keys from his jeans pocket, and tossed them at Forman. "Give Fez the Cruiser's keys. I gotta drive Jackie home in her car."

"Why can't I take the El Camino?" Fez said.

"'Cause the last time I let you drive it, you dented the fender and wrecked one of the tail lights. Forman can handle a manual transmission."

Hyde left the the administrative hallway with Forman and Fez following. The lobby was free of cheerleaders. Valerie must've given them permission to disperse, and—fuck him, he'd messed up. Since this summer, he'd messed up. Jackie had no real friends on the cheer squad. She probably thought she had no real friends in the basement, either, except for Donna. But Forman had finally come around. Fez got distracted easily, but he still gave a crap. Either one of them would've driven her home.

But Hyde needed to do it. Distrusting Jackie had become a bad habit. But instead of breaking it, he'd proven how much he sucked at the whole being-in-love thing. Just like his parents. Just like her parents. Maybe he didn't deserve better anymore, but she sure as hell did.