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

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
MOVING ON

Jackie's shelves had been cleared of books, records, and the trinkets that used to decorate them. In their place were enough candles to see by and still be romantic with the shades drawn. A thick blanket covered her bed instead of its usual comforter, and she lay back on a pillow from the guest room. Her room had been stripped to its essentials, but her memories remained—and she was creating a final one to leave it with.

Her breath caught as Steven's hands slid over her bare legs. Her body was flush from kissing him, from being touched by him, but her mind fought to stay present. A month had passed since the trip to Quartz Falls. So much had happened during that time, most of which had led to this moment.

"Ready?" he said at the edge of her bed. He was kneeling, shirtless, but he made no moves until she said yes.

His lips pressed into her thigh, and her heartbeat pulsed through every nerve. For weeks, she'd craved a deeper physical intimacy, but he'd insisted on going slowly. Whatever they did sexually had to be about them, not a distraction from her grief. Otherwise it could "screw their relationship".

Her boyfriend, Mr. What-Are-Feelings, had expressed that concern the day her dad pleaded guilty to federal bribery. Both her parents were gone. Her mom never returned from Mexico. Instead, she'd phoned, offering excuses that amounted to, "I can't be your mother anymore. You're on your own."

Candle flames quivered behind Steven's head. They seemed synced to her thoughts, and her stomach muscles tightened when his kisses edged closer to her center. Her breathing hadn't relaxed. Her focus was fleeing the room, and she clenched the blanket.

He'd urged her to be pissed after her dad's arrest, to be sad. Promised to comfort her and keep her safe, and he had. Most of her personal belongings now resided in Donna's bedroom, a deal he'd brokered. Only a few items were left in Jackie's house. They consisted of clothes and extra toiletries, but they'd be leaving today, like her.

"You with me?" Steven's warmth retreated from her legs, but his palms skimmed her stomach, bringing her back.

"I'm trying to be."

"We don't have to do this."

"You don't want to?"

He heaved out a breath, but his eyes were full of compassion. "Not gonna enjoy myself if you're aren't. If you need to talk, man, we'll talk. You need space, you got it."

She slapped the bed. What she needed was her brain to cooperate. "Do what we planned, okay? I'm naked. We have an empty house—"

He rose from the floor and sat on the bed. "None of this is your fault," he said. "Your dad fucked up. Your mom's a fuck-up, and you couldn't do shit to stop it."

"I don't know how to do this," she said and gripped his hand hard. Her emotions had been erratic since her mom's call. Sometimes volatile. Sometimes virtually non-existent. "For sixteen years, I believed my life would go one way, but everything's changed."

"Includin' you." He gestured to the candles on her shelves. "You no longer settle for less than what you're worth."

She sat up against the headboard She'd always expected the best and intended to say so, but the sight of him disrupted her speech. The boy she loved was on her bed, aching to give whatever she needed. Michael would've been a selfish tornado, unable to hold back at her nudity.

"I did settle. Steven, I..."

The candles. He was referencing the night she'd written her grievances, not the first time she'd had sex. But with Michael, she'd sped into making love, hoping it would bring them closer. It hadn't. He'd avoided her for days afterward. Bought her a stuffed unicorn as an apology, which she'd accepted, along with his cheating. His lying. His hypocrisy.

"I won't abandon myself," she said and cradled Steven's cheeks. They were smooth, except for his sideburns. "My parents won't dictate my destiny."

He looked at her without speaking. Caressed her side but shared none of his thoughts. It was unsettling.

"What?" she said.

"I admire the hell outta you..." He drummed his fingertips on her waist, clearly uncomfortable. "I'm also damn lucky. Had no idea this was possible."

"Us?"

"Yeah, and all that's come with it."

She smiled weakly. "You mean fighting off a crazy—former—cheer captain? Or fixing my parlor with Donna after I destroyed half of it? Or being shot at by Michael?"

He rolled his left shoulder, as if reliving the last incident. The bruise had healed weeks ago, but she kissed the spot Michael's BB had struck.

"Short-term crap," he said and placed the flat of her hand on his chest. His heart beat under her palm, steady and strong. "You gave me this, man. It's what'll stick."

Blood heated her face. His sentiment was startling, and she grabbed for the button of his fly. Their conversation had calmed her down and turned her on, but he stopped her from unzipping his jeans.

"Steven, let me give you something else."

"Head's in a different place, Grasshopper. No pun intended."

"You're afraid I'll be bad at it."

"Nope. Just gotta teach you how I like it, same as you taught me how you..." He traced the air around her breasts with his fingers. "In a giving mood is all. Not a receiving one."

She cupped the nape of his neck and drew him in for a kiss. It turned into a second, a third—and more—until their kisses had no beginning or end. His back muscles flexed beneath her hands. His woodsy scent saturated her senses, and his touches thrilled her body, creating a profound longing for him.

"I'm a little scared," she whispered. "It burned the first time..."

"'Cause you had an amateur tinkering down there." He pecked the corner of her mouth. "This is gonna feel a lot different."

Her pulse throbbed in her ears, but she lay back again and clasped her hands over her stomach. She'd been curious about oral sex since dating Michael, but the act itself was secondary to being close with Steven.

He returned to the end of her bed and knelt on the floor. Candles cast a mural of light and shadow behind him, and he rubbed the length of her legs. "You don't like somethin', tell me. I'll switch it up."

Gooseflesh spread on her skin. She inhaled sharply when he opened her thighs and pressed a kiss between them. The contact was superficial, but it had her reaching for him.

He grasped her hips and encompassed her fingers in his grip. His face eased forward, disappearing from view. Only the top of his hair was visible, but she grew increasingly aware of his presence.

She clutched his hands as the pleasure inside her built. He was unlike any boy she'd ever known. Unselfish and determined to see her happy, and he peeked at her. She nodded for him to continue, but he released her hips, brought her legs tighter around his head, and she let out her first groan.

Her eyes squeezed shut. A bout of shyness had seized her, but he stroked her stomach, coaxing out another groan. It was soft, but she ached to lose herself to the moment.

She pushed against him. His name escaped her throat, and his own breath became vocal, disintegrating her thoughts. Light blossomed behind her eyelids. A blissful pressure detonated within her body, and she shook with her love for him.

He rested his head on her right leg. "How was that?"

"Incredible." She wiped sweat from her forehead. "What about you? I can—"

"Already done."

She covered her mouth and giggled. He'd finished in his pants, which was a bit gross, but it meant her joy truly was his. "Come here," she said.

He climbed onto the bed, and she hugged him. Their skin was equally damp. His fingers combed her hair lazily, but her hold on him was tight.

"It felt totally different," she said. "It felt like you."

He nuzzled her ear before kissing it. "That's..." His arms strengthened around her back, embracing her like she might slip through his grasp. "Life doesn't pull its punches. You gotta have a break sometime."

"So do you." She pulled from him, enough to see his face. "I'll be your knight when you can't do it yourself, okay? That's part of what being a couple is about."

"Yeah." His chest sank from hers as he sighed, and his eyebrows rose. "You yanked me into a new cosmos."

She understood his meaning. These were her last minutes in this house. She had no idea if she'd come back or if her mom would, either. But for all the mistakes her parents made, their selfishness, Steven proved people didn't have to behave that way. That she could be loved how she needed to be loved.

"You did the same for me," she said and pecked his lips. "Let's wash up and get the hell out of here."

Hyde carried Jackie's backpack into the Formans' basement. The backpack was a swirl of pinks and purples, but he didn't give a shit. It contained what Jackie needed to function, and that was what mattered.

Forman, however, pointed to the backpack from Hyde's chair. "Is that Jackie's one-month anniversary present to you?"

Jackie stepped forward, as if to shield Hyde from incoming burns, but Julie said, "Don't be an ass. That's Jackie's bag."

She was seated on the couch. Mark Cailliet sat beside her, arm around her shoulders. The basement had changed the last month. Three folding chairs were stashed in the alcove under the stairs, in case the new regulars dropped by at once. The couch had been shoved a foot backward to accommodate the chairs. Otherwise, everyone would be crowded around the TV.

"Or," Forman said and raised his finger, "she bought him a matching backpack. Next on the list: matching outfits."

"Come on," Mark said. "He's acting chivalrous. Carrying your girlfriend's bag is a privilege."

"Pourin' it on thick, Cailliet." Hyde put the backpack on the lawn chair, Fez's regular spot. "Where's the rest of the rabble?" On Sunday afternoons, the basement was usually full, and he jutted his chin at Mark and Julie. "You two make-out, and Forman was the only one willing to watch?"

"No," Julie said. "We know the basement rules."

"And follow them to the letter," Mark said with a wink.

Forman stood from Hyde's chair and gestured at Hyde and Jackie. "Not that those two ever follow them."

"The basement is blessed to have our love," Jackie said and embraced Hyde from behind. "It transforms this drab place into a Roller-Disco paradise, minus the roller skates."

Mark laughed. "Strange metaphor."

"No, it's not," Jackie and Julie said together, and Hyde flinched. Hearing Jackie and Julie talk could be jarring. Their similarities were obvious, but their tastes weren't completely the same. Or else they would've redecorated the basement in Captain & Tennille posters and rainbow stickers.

"It's like having two Jackies," Forman said.

Hyde grasped Jackie's hand and her backpack. "Total trade-up."

They went to his seat. She settled onto his lap, and the backpack lay at his feet. They'd have to bring it to his room before their friends became nosy, but they could hang out for a while.

"I don't even mind it," Forman said, sitting beside Mark. He propped his foot on the spool table and picked lint off his khakis. "That's what scares me."

"It's called growth, Eric," Jackie said. "You've learned to distinguish good company from people who chain themselves to pipes and shoot friends with BB guns."

She leaned her head back on Hyde's shoulder, and he laced his fingers over her stomach. She'd been lenient on Kelso after the Quartz Falls trip, offering him the chance to stay in the basement—if he'd respect her relationship with Hyde.

He promised. But in the span of a week, he killed whatever goodwill was left. The passive-aggressive digs came first. Then the gifts to Jackie, but shooting Hyde with a BB gun got him banned from the basement.

He returned anyway and handcuffed himself to the shower's curtain rod. Quite a trick, considering his left wrist was in a cast and sling. But he wouldn't unlock the cuffs until the ban was lifted.

Forman called in Red, who brought a hacksaw with him. "I can either saw through your arm," Red said, "or you can remove those handcuffs."

Kelso scrambled for the key, but it fell into the shower drain. Red had to saw the cuffs in half, vowed Kelso's arms were next, and Kelso fled the basement. .

Red changed the lock to the basement door afterward. Kelso would never relinquish his key, but Red's amputation threat appeared to do the trick. Kelso hadn't come back.

The basement door was rattling, though, and Hyde's muscles tensed. It was an automatic reaction. Happened every time since Kelso's banning, but Jackie had locked the door. Her precaution since Kelso's banning.

"You don't think—?" she said.

The door swung open, and Donna entered. Fez and Susan Amborn were behind her, which gave Hyde an idea where they'd been.

"You've got to oil that lock," Donna said. "It sticks."

She set her backpack on the couch armrest and yanked out a pile of newspapers. Jackie sprang off Hyde's lap. He assumed she'd relock the door, but she snatched a paper from the top of Donna's pile. "Is this it? You did it?"

"Hot off the presses," Susan said, and Fez opened a folding chair for her. "Principal Pridewell finally approved the story."

"'School Spirit Exorcism: How Point Place High Was Possessed by Popularity,'" Jackie read aloud. She shut off the TV and continued to read but to herself.

Donna passed copies of the paper to everyone else but Susan, who read alongside Fez. The article was thorough, describing how Valerie seized control of the cheer squad and, later, helped solidify the school's social hierarchy with Jake Bradley. Blackmail, intimidation, and manipulation were among their weapons, as well as gossip-mongering and fostering a herd mentality.

Excerpts of interviews with dozens of people were included, but Jake Bradley's stood out. He felt betrayed. Valerie had rigged the homecoming court election to make Kelso king. But their freshman year, she and Jake planned to "own the school" by their senior year. He described their schemes, probably not realizing he'd implicated himself.

The other interviewees were Linda Miller, the cheer captain before Valerie. Rita Fogle, who would've been captain last year had Valerie not blackmailed Linda. Members of the Vikings and the cheer squad, former and current. Students whose lives had been affected by Valerie and Jake's machinations, directly and indirectly.

The article made sure to present differing perspectives, but its point of view was clearly one of warning: learn from our history and don't repeat it.

"Jackie, look!" Julie said. She bounced on the couch a little and turned her copy of the paper around. "It's our interviews!"

"Captivating Cooperators: Meet the Cheer Squad's New Co-Captains," the headline said, but Hyde didn't have to read that article. He knew the story inside-out.

The school's investigation of Valerie had uncovered a tapestry of social corruption, more extensive than either Jackie or Julie suspected. Valerie and Jake were expelled from Point Place High as a result. Several Vikings were suspended, and Coach Ferguson offered Julie the position of cheer captain.

Julie refused to accept it, however, unless Jackie could be her co-captain. Not her assistant captain but her equal. Ferguson agreed, as did Jackie, and Patty Frumkin was made assistant captain.

"All this is great," Mark said and hit the top of his paper, "except for one thing."

Julie touched his knee. "What's that, babe?"

"Jake Bradley's at my fucking school, playing for the Snapping Turtles."

"Nothin' like putting football championships over principles," Hyde said, and Jackie moved to his side. He curled his arm around her legs, relieved to have her near him again. "Donna, man, you should dump a stack of these babies on Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow's doorstep."

"I printed an extra batch for that," Donna said, perched on the couch armrest. "But Valerie has no chance to fashion herself into a god there. The nuns won't allow it."

Forman tossed his paper onto the table and rubbed her back. "I'm really proud of you."

"Thank you. I'm proud of me, too. Of all of us."

Hyde said nothing, but Donna's bravery was impressive. Her expulsion from Nun High could've had a shitload of consequences, but Bob actually listened her. She explained that she'd been through enough with losing her mom and Forman. Her humiliation with Casey. Watching her folks date other people—and being used as a weapon to hurt the other.

"It's my last year in high school," she'd said to him in the Formans' driveway, but she wasn't alone. Hyde, Jackie, Forman, and Fez stood behind her. "Then I'm going to college, and I won't see them," she went on. "I supported you during the divorce when I needed your support. Why can't you understand how I feel? Why do you want to take everything away from me?"

That last question had Bob crying. He hugged her and promised to be a better dad.

"God must have a sense of irony," Forman said now. "You're expelled from OLOPS and reaccepted into Point Place High. Valerie's expelled from our school, and her parents send her to OLOPS. What is that?"

"Justice," Hyde said.

"An exhausting month." Susan sat up straight in her chair and counted off on her fingers. "First week: Mitch quits the paper in protest. Principal Pridewell wouldn't let him publish his Anti-Valerie manifesto, and the paper's without an editor.

"Second week: Donna comes back, thank God, and is made editor. No one protests. Valerie's expelled, but Jake Bradley isn't. Donna sends us out to interview key figures in the Vikings-slash-Cheer-Squad story, but Donna—"

"Had to question Coach Ferguson and the principal," Donna said. "The school's hypocrisy was blatant. Jake was as guilty as Valerie, but Coach 'put football championships over principles'. I was stuck until Jackie and Mark stepped in."

Jackie folded her paper with a snap. "It's a good thing we were here during your rant. I'm not above using blackmail for a just cause."

Hyde glanced at her. This part of the situation was news to him, but his focus had been on her dad's arrest and deterring Kelso at school.

"I'd hardly call what we did blackmail," Mark said. "We informed Coach Ferguson that we'd witnessed his liaison with Coach Saunders in Quartz Falls. That's it. He understood the possible consequences."

"Like casting suspicion on his loyalty and integrity," Donna said. "Simply hinting at the Vikings' strategy to a rival school's coach could get him fired—" She smirked at Mark. "And, yes, that's blackmail. Though nice try at rationalizing."

Julie patted the top of Mark's leg. "I've taught him well."

"Third week," Susan continued, as if no one had interrupted her, "Fezzy asks me out." She turned toward Fez in her chair, and they smiled at each other. "Of course I say yes, but it means I have to juggle schoolwork, my responsibilities for the paper, and a love life..."

Jackie squeezed Hyde's shoulder. "Susan's tales of exhaustion are exhausting me," she whispered. "Can we unpack my things?"

He stood and picked up her backpack. His fingers wove between hers, and he led her to his room. The basement was crowded, not only with bodies but thoughts. Everyone clamored to speak, and excited voices broke past his door.

He muffled them with the Beatles' A Hard Day's Night. He and Jackie had reorganized his records the other day, grouping ones they both liked in their own section. That way, his stereo would be ready for her visits.

"Here ya go." He opened his bottom dresser drawer. It used to house his socks, but he'd emptied it for her this morning.

"Sometimes I can't believe how domestic you are," she said. "You even dusted."

He scratched the nape of his neck. "I'm enough of a badass that I can afford to be domestic."

"Sure." She placed a pair of her pajamas inside the drawer. "You shouldn't know how to cook or clean. You were practically raised by wolves."

"Wolves would've been better." He sat on his cot as she unpacked. A daytime outfit went into the drawer. Toiletries were next, followed by a hairbrush and makeup. She wouldn't spend a ton of nights with him, but his room was another safe place to sleep. "That's why I'm freakin' domestic," he said. "Having no damn boundaries growin' up ain't freedom. Two of my cousins ended in prison 'cause of it. One of 'em's dead..."

She shoved the drawer closed. "Go on." She clutched his hand with both of hers and held it to her stomach. "You've barely talked about yourself in weeks."

"Those days are long-gone for me, man. You're the one goin' through it. How I feel—not relevant."

"Untrue." She jostled his hand. "I want to hear it. It'll make me feel less alone, less scared. Because you're okay. You survived your parents abandoning you."

He cleared his throat. Shuttering his emotions hadn't protected her. It deprived her of hope, and he kicked off his boots. He had to perform a balancing act: sharing a similar experience without stealing attention from hers.

"A house has gotta have a frame to build on," he said. "You know how Donna kind of acted out whenever her folks ignored her for a fad? Or after her ma left?"

"'Kind of'?" Jackie sat on the cot and played with his fingers. "She smoked cigarettes. Skipped school and drank in the middle of the day—" Her eyes widened. "She became like you before the Formans took you in."

"Yeah, and Bob figured sending her to Catholic school would fix the problem. But realizing the problem was him, he asked Red for dad lessons. Donna has no clue about the last part."

She hit her leg with their combined hands. "Oh, my God, that's hilarious … and a relief. I do not need to see a naked Bob and Joanne romping around the living room."

"No one needs to see that." He swung his right foot under his cot, and his heel butted against a shopping bag he'd stashed. Giving it to Jackie would shift their conversation, but he had to stay in this one. It would lead where she was asking him to go. "Valerie's house has no frame," he said. "Maybe the nuns'll build her one before she—"

His voice caught. Freakin' embarrassing. This whole topic was, but he hit his chest to untangle his vocal chords. "Esther. Valerie's two-thirds Esther, and I can do fuck-all about it."

"Steven..." She stroked his cheek. "What she did in our school, to Linda Miller and others, is on the record. She can't hide from her choices anymore."

He blew out a breath. Her assertion was comforting, and carrying Valerie in his skull was useless. He had to accept what he couldn't do and move the hell on.

"So how does this apply to you?" Jackie said. "I understand the Valerie part, but house frames? Unless this is your weird way of saying your dream is to be an architect."

"Goes to my first night at the Formans'." He patted the blanket beneath them. "Slept in Forman's room on this cot. Stared at the dark ceiling for an hour or two, considerin' the trajectory of my life. Knew I was lucky to be here, to survive. But being happy? Out of my reach."

A lock of Jackie's hair fell into her eyes. She didn't sweep it aside, as if moving would shut him down. He brushed it out of her eyes for her.

"Had no idea what bein' happy felt like," he said."I do now."

"Me! I'm that happiness."

He laughed "Would ya let me finish? Thanks to the Formans, I got a house. Thanks to them and you, my landscape's changed. No longer see life as a dead end. Studying for my second go at the SATs—"

"What?" She slapped his knee lightly. "You should have told me!"

"You have more important stuff to deal with."

"There's nothing more important than our future! Because your future is mine, too. We—" She released his knee and scooted back on the cot. His discomfort must have surfaced on his face. "We'll talk about that later. But I'm glad you believe your future is one worth working for."

"Shocked the crap out of myself, but I do." And if his and Jackie's futures intersected, even better. It was a possibility, one he'd fight to make happen. But their intention to be together was all either of them could guarantee.

He dragged the shopping bag from under the cot. It was stiff and slightly bigger than a toaster. Tissue paper covered the top, and Jackie gaped at it.

"You bought me a present?" she said.

"For Mrs. Forman. Asking your opinion—"

"Shut up! It's for me." She snatched the bag and chucked the tissue paper at him. "A stuffed animal?" She pulled a plush lion from the bag. Its mane was curly, and its fur was the color of his hair.

"Your unicorn's tainted—and in the dump—so I got you a replacement."

She caressed its mane. "He looks like you."

"For nights your mind goes haywire," he said. "Or you can sneak over here. Your call."

Her fingers dug into the lion, but she thrust her arms around Hyde's neck. She kissed his cheeks, his mouth, his chin. "You are the best stuffed-animal-giving boyfriend ever!" she said and withdrew from him. "But as sweet as the lion is, you're still my firefly."

"Sickens me, but I don't mind the name anymore."

"Does that mean I can call you that in public?"

He pushed himself off the cot. Wedged between the Formans' suitcases was their chessboard. He and Jackie hadn't played in months, and he grabbed the board and its pouch of chess pieces. "You beat me in a match today, and I'll consider it."

With Jackie's help, the chessboard was set up a few minutes later. It lay between them on the Formans' old ottoman, and she used the French Defense against him. He had a few strategies to counter it, but he grinned as she anticipated his moves. In chess, she'd grown into a challenging opponent. In life, he had no better partner.