Chapter 2

Lisa had been getting ready since the minute she got home. She had to. Someone of her status could never go anywhere or do anything without looking her best, and a date tripled the importance. A boy who failed to impress on a date could be easily kicked aside and forgotten about, but if Lisa Doyle- the Lisa Doyle- was seen looking anything less than spectacular, a vision from the heavens, the scandal would be of world-ending proportions. You'd never hear the end of it.

Besides, Lisa thought with a smile as she eyed herself in the mirror, boys have cooties, and stunning good looks are cootie-proof. Scientific fact.

The tough thing was always getting through the long shower time, careful prep work with conditioner, lotions, makeup, eyeliner if needed, and then deciding what to wear. You couldn't rush any of it. It all had to be done right and on time.

It wasn't like Lisa was nervous about going out with Chris Marshal. He was some new kid who'd managed to make a bit of a splash on the social scene, and somehow, managed to impress enough that Lisa was letting him take her to the movies. Henry Evans was taller, a hundred times stronger and hotter, richer and smarter. Perfect, basically.

This was… a diversion. Something to keep Lisa entertained while she waited for Henry to come to his senses. He was so sweet, so romantic, and he fucked like the absolute champion he was. What was Chris Marshal compared to that?

You are going out with him. He's got some nice stuff.

Yeah, Brittany talked me into it. He's okay.

Maybe he'd look better with his shirt off.

That brought a quick flutter as Lisa's heart considered the prospect. Half-naked athletic boys never, ever, ever got boring. Maybe Chris could offer something there. Maybe. But he still wasn't Henry Evans.

"Why won't he ask me out? Shit, I've tried fucking everything," Lisa grouched, staring at her mirror. She was in a tight-fitting pair of designer jeans, probably pricier than Chris Marshal's dumb muscle car, but a white Victoria's Secret bra was all she had above the belt so far. Didn't matter if it was cold. She had to get the shirt picked out right, then a good sweater.

The real trick was going to be making sure she got Chris staring, without coming off as not having any standards. He would have gladly killed to see her right now, a goddess in front of her closet door mirror, but only the luckiest, hottest/coolest boys got to see her like this, and Chris wasn't that. He sure hadn't proven it yet.

Plus, she'd have to smack him if he stared too openly and she caught him. You had to make boys behave, after all. Get them so they didn't want to look at anyone or anything but you, yet also remind them that stupid boys had to have some manners.

Finally going for a white t-shirt and one of her best deep maroon sweaters, right off Fifth Avenue this spring no less, Lisa admired herself again, appreciating the good taste she'd shown this time. But then, this was classic Lisa Doyle. The name itself set the standard in fashion and style.

"Lisa," Christine Doyle called from the doorway, "your father wants some time to meet this new boy who's coming by today."

"Oh, Mom," Lisa sighed in exasperation. They always did this. Fucking always. It felt so childish, having to parade one new suitor through the house after another, but somehow, never had Mom or Dad caught on to the fact that Lisa was also fucking them, one after the other.

Or maybe they're just in massive denial, Lisa considered. Doesn't matter as long as I get to have my fun.

"He's coming by at five, right?"

"Yes, Mom. I told you."

"Honey, don't fuss. It's just that we think it's best if we meet a new boyfriend when you're going out for the first time."

Lisa huffed. "Mom, he's just this new boy at school. He's not my boyfriend. He's just taking me to see Rush Hour."

"You're at least considering dating him, or you wouldn't have said yes when he asked you."

Mom was no slouch in the brains department. Well, she's Lisa Doyle's mom, Lisa thought smugly. Of course she's smart.

"Mom, it's just a date. Maybe if he's fun, I'll do- I guess, a second one. I dunno. He's just some boy. He's not even- he drives a fu-fricking Camaro."

"He's probably a perfectly nice boy. I know you usually date boys with money, but this doesn't make him less worthwhile if he's-"

"I didn't say he was poor, Mom!" Lisa interrupted, wondering if she should reassess how smart Mom was. God, she was nice and all, but as perceptive as a rock sometimes. Had boys even existed back in the day? Maybe they were invented in the 1970s or something.

"Lisa, you don't need to raise your voice at me. And interrupting isn't polite."

Lisa sighed. "Yes, Mom. Can we at least get it over with so half the date isn't Dad interrogating him?"

"Your father cares about you, Lisa."

"I know, and he's about as cool as- as a bag of rocks." Lisa giggled, amused at her own wit. "Okay, he's cool, like, some of those nice river-stones, so, like, a cool bag of rocks."

"That's quite a compliment, Lisa," Andrew Doyle said in greeting, joining his wife in the doorway as Lisa continued checking every aspect of her appearance, yet again, then took up a brush to make some adjustments to her shoulder-length, golden-blonde hair.

"Dad," Lisa returned. "Can you not scare him when he gets here? He might get scared and barf all over your thousand-year-old coffee table."

"Oh, this one isn't another hunk from the football or the hockey team?"

"No, he's a hu-a boy from- he's just this new transfer, and, he sits at my table. I don't even really like him that much."

"But you do like him."

Lisa flushed, but refused to admit, even to herself, that she'd genuinely liked his boldness, the easygoing fun his cool gray eyes promised when he asked her out. That, and the slight tightness of his shirt around his chest, and the modest, but pleasant bulge of his biceps, and the bubble-but he had going on.

Yeah, he got far enough that I said yes to a date, whatever. He's just entertainment until Henry wakes up to reality. Then he's history, because I'm moving on.

"Dad, I'm just going to see a movie with him. It isn't like that."

DING-DONG!

"Oh, wonderful, I bet that's him now," Mom announced cheerfully. "Come on, everyone, let's go say hi!"

"This is so lame," Lisa groaned, but she kept her voice low, not wanting to hurt Mom when she was in her element.

Mom loved meeting new people; she was the social center of the Chamberlain High PTA, and practically ran the Portland Country Club over in Falmouth. Chris Marshal was no socialite; he didn't deserve such a fuss. But Mom wanted to make a show of meeting him anyway, so that was that, because Lisa wasn't willing to fight over it.

Shit, he really is outside, Lisa thought, glancing out her window at the Camaro. And right on the heels of that: Hey, he looks pretty good. The car, the sunglasses.

"Okay, Mom, let's go," Lisa said. "Dad! Come and meet Chris, he's outside!"

"Well, I didn't mean all at once," Mom fussed. "Really, we're not going to crowd him at the door. Now, everyone, be nice and let me handle the introductions."

Stage-managing the show already, Lisa thought, and she almost had to smile.

ΩΩΩΩΩ

As she opened the front door, Christina Doyle felt a vague sense of disappointment as the lean boy standing on the front doorstep came into view. He was lighter, not as strikingly muscular as Lisa's usual suitors. This one looked almost too young to have driven that 80s-vintage Camaro up to the curb, and that green-around-the-gills look to him didn't exactly help first impressions.

Still, he was respectably buff, a game athlete in hockey or some non-contact sport probably, and had a clean-cut appearance, even if the reality that he came from a lower social class than Lisa was a little too easy to notice. He was immaculately clean-shaven, had chosen a gray Nike shirt (though it looked a size too small at second glance) and a new pair of jeans, and flashed a charming white smile at Christina immediately.

"Mrs. Doyle," the red-haired teen said with a small bow, "I'm Lisa's barf-boyf- I'm Chris Marshal."

"I'm Christina, Lisa's mother," Christina responded politely, offering her hand.

"It's good to meet you," Chris replied, taking it and offering a kiss. "Is Lisa upstairs?"

"Yes, she'll only be a moment," Christina told him, liking his manners a little more. "Won't you come in? My husband Andy was looking forward to meeting you as well."

"Thank you, ma'am," Chris said gratefully. He looked almost painfully nervous; yes, someone had worked up the nerve to talk to Lisa today, and evidently done a good job of it. Christina wasn't entirely sure what Lisa liked so much about this boy, but sometimes she did allow would-be suitors to entertain her to keep up social appearances between her more substantial relationships.

"You made it! Great," Lisa called out as she descended the stairs, a stunning picture of beauty as always. "Mom, were you nice to him?"

"Lisa, I was just going to bring him over to the living room. You know your father will want to meet him."

"Oh, Mom, he does this every time. Boys know to behave themselves around me."

This one sure won't try anything he shouldn't, Christina thought with certainty. He looked mildly terrified, like he hadn't expected to even be here. Maybe he'd worked up some uncharacteristic courage on a dare from his friends, or just got the idea out of nowhere. He clearly wasn't from the same kind of neighborhood as Lisa's usual suitors.

Asking out Lisa Doyle. It both pleased and irritated Christina that her daughter was looked at as such an object of desire by the boys at her school.

On the one hand, it was certainly flattering to have her be the focus of so much positive attention. On the other, it had meant that from around 6th grade on, boys had been showing up in droves to impress Lisa, and unsurprisingly none had retained her interest for long.

They'd also called here almost incessantly, hoping to be The One, until Andy and Christina had gotten their home phone number taken off the school and the Portland area phone books.

Compared to the champion athletes and sons of the elite that usually came knocking, Chris Marshal had an almost runty look about him, neither as fit, nor as well-off, nor as confident. He perched uncertainly on the edge of one of the living room sofas, as if unsure he really belonged there.

He was careful to be polite, though, and the way Lisa kept glancing at him said she, too, was definitely sizing up his looks and manners, and she seemed to like both well enough. Christina made things easier on him, guiding the conversation for the most part, and laughing appreciatively at the few jokes he made.

Surprisingly enough, those jokes were remarkably witty, showing intelligence and humor beyond the everyday kid exterior. Christina found herself liking him more than she'd expected to, and by the time she went to find where Andy'd gone to, Chris had even managed to lose most of that green look, and his posture had relaxed and become more natural.

I better make sure Andy doesn't try to scare him too much, Christina reminded herself. Protective as he was of their only child, Andy had a way of trying to spook new boyfriends, the better, he reasoned, to ensure they were gentlemen and nothing else in Lisa's presence.

ΩΩΩΩΩ

Andrew Doyle was busy handling some end-of-the-day business emails, addressing a few points about the Eagle brand and its tie-in status alongside Jeep at his dealership fifteen minutes away. He'd heard some new boy was coming by today, and when he didn't recognize the last name at all, that came up as a red flag.

It wasn't necessarily that Lisa wasn't allowed to go out with someone of lower social status, but it was surprising that she would want to in the first place. She was a beautiful girl, had been all her life, and as she'd grown up and matured, boys had come calling quite eagerly, giving her the ability to pick anyone she wanted.

This- Marshal, the name was- didn't sound like anyone important at school. Strange that she'd say yes to anyone like that, given that her most recent choice had been Mason Sarkozy, whose mother was a good friend of Christina's; the two of them were the dominant voices in the Chamberlain High School PTA.

But, at the end of the day, Lisa was more or less free to go out with whomever she liked, provided her parents found no clear cause to refuse. Andy heard the voices at the front door of the house, knew the new suitor was here, and hit Send for one, two, three emails he'd just wrapped up on. Then he got up just as Christina came looking for him, and went to go see what was going on.

"So, Lisa found someone new, did she?" Andy asked in a hushed voice.

"He's very nice," Christina responded, which telegraphed that she had little else to say about him. "Says he's just transferred in from out-of-state. His father is first mate on a freighter, the- uh, Servant, I think he said."

"Oh, no," Andy said, unable to suppress a groan. "Really? Where'd she find him, down at the docks?"

"Andy! Be nice to him. I think he took a big risk asking Lisa out. He's nervous."

"I just want to know where the best pickings went," Andy commented with some sarcasm. "Did Jason, Mason, Henry, Paul, James, Mark, or someone all turn out to be unavailable?"

"I didn't ask, and you don't need to go bothering Lisa about that," Christina answered, her tone reproachful. "Now let's go in and be nice."

Knowing better than to argue the point further- both because they were running out of hallway and because Christina would feel genuinely offended if he kept up the disparaging remarks- Andrew Doyle put on his best neutral expression and turned into the living room.

The boy sitting next to Lisa, in the process of sharing some joke and a clever smile with her, turned his head to the left and immediately stood up, banging his left knee on the coffee table and almost sending it over on its side.

"Good afternoon, sir," the redhead called out. "I'm Chris Marshal."

"Chris," Andrew managed to say as they shook hands, "Thank you for coming today."

"I was hoping we could go see a movie. Lisa and me. We'd go, uh, together, in my car."

"And what time were you planning on bringing her back?"

"Dad!" Lisa fussed. "I already told Mom all about that, it's fine!"

"Lisa," Andrew admonished her, "I have a right to make sure I'm okay with all the arrangements. So, Chris, do you play any sports in your spare time?"

"I can play ice hockey," Chris offered, not looking very sure of himself.

"It's a popular game here in Maine," Andrew responded. "You'll find plenty of opportunities if you know where to look, and you're willing to put in the effort."

"I was thinking just that, sir," Chris replied.

Andrew warmed to the new boy slightly at that, and he got through the next few minutes of chit-chat without bringing up how startled he was that a freighter crewman's son would be anywhere near this house, proud as Lisa was. He'd expected someone more significant.

But there was also opportunity in this, Andrew realized. Chris Marshal had made a leap here, no doubt trying to impress Lisa and at the same time impress the other students at his new school. He was nervous, unsure of himself. That meant Andrew would have less ego, less arrogance to contend with this time.

Andrew gave it a few minutes, allowing for various pleasantries and such while the new boyfriend did his best to not throw up on the carpet. For the son of a freighter crewman, he at least carried himself with dignity and spoke well. The way he kept nervously looking around and throwing glances at Andrew didn't help his case, however.

As soon as he got Lisa and Christina out of the room on a prepared excuse, Andrew stood up and made a point of looming over the lean, red-haired boy sitting there on that sofa. The kid looked up and swallowed, giving him two wide-open green eyes.

"Don't think that impressing Lisa enough to get a date means you're entitled to anything," Andrew warned him. "You're going to behave yourself. You're going to bring her back here exactly when you've been told to. And if you do anything Lisa doesn't like, if you try anything with her, I will make sure you regret it."

"But- um- sir, I wasn't going to- do anything."

"Do we understand each other?"

"I-"

"Do we?" Andrew asked, steel coming into his voice now.

"Yes, sir."

"Good."

Chris nodded several times, looking pale and worried. Andrew didn't enjoy the sight, but he considered it necessary. Maybe this kid would only get the one date. Even if he stuck around, he'd remember this moment, and Lisa would be safer for it.

Lisa showed up just then, though, having heard almost everything, and a short but bitter argument ensued. Under fire from his daughter and then from his wife, Andrew begrudgingly retreated, wondering if life would've been easier had his only child been a son.

ΩΩΩΩΩ

Lisa forcefully closed the door behind her, leaving the house with her pretty face marred by a frown.

"Is everything okay?" Chris asked.

"Let's just go," Lisa told him. "Come on."

"But-"

"Take my hand, and let's go already."

Chris took her hand, entwining his fingers with hers as they walked out to the Camaro. "I hope I did all right in there." He laughed. "I was really nervous."

"Look, don't let that shit with my Dad get to you," Lisa sighed irritably. "He's been trying to scare off every boy I ever go out with. Well, you know what? I'm going out with you and there's nothing he can do about it! I swear, he does this every time. Every time."

"Oh- okay," Chris said. "Well-" his voice almost cracked, so Chris cleared his throat and quickly tried again- "You know something? That old fogey's not gonna stop us from doing anything. Let's go."

"Did you just call my Dad an 'old fogey'?" Lisa asked, staring at him as they got to the car.

"Yeah." Chris said, unsure what to say next. "Is that- a problem?"

"No," Lisa responded, starting to giggle. "But don't let him hear you say that. He'd scrunch up his face and start lecturing-"

"Like he did today? Just now?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, good," Chris sighed dramatically. "And here I thought we were bonding."

ΩΩΩΩΩ

At the theater, Chris was a gentleman, making a fuss over Lisa but not overdoing it. He looked a little green around the gills, and had this wide-eyed look to him sometimes, like he couldn't quite believe this was really happening.

But always, always, he kept his attention on Lisa, what she might need, what she might want. Lisa noticed that the shirt he was wearing looked a size too small, hugging his muscles quite nicely. He wasn't Mark, or Henry, or Jason, or Tony, but that bulge when his biceps were in just the right place… he wasn't bad. And there was more to his shoulders than Lisa had noticed before.

And what about that chest? Lisa thought, stealing a few glances. How much does he even work out? He's got some pecs. Okay. Points to the redhead.

Constantly having to watch her figure, Lisa didn't normally go for any of the stuff they'd sell you at concessions, but Chris kept surprising her with his jokes, and she ended up agreeing to share a bag of popcorn with him.

The jokes weren't actually all good ones, but Chris told each one like it was the best thing ever, and that energy, that confidence, was fun to watch. It took Lisa's mind off what a jerk Dad was being. Again.

I don't get how he hasn't figured it out, but I'm not six anymore. God. I have a life. Mom gets it. I seriously-

"Hey."

"Uh?" Lisa asked, looking up from the patch of neon-green striping, or confetti, or whatever it was supposed to be on the mostly-black carpet. Theaters and bowling alleys, and laser-tag places, they all had this black carpet with little neon green, orange, yellow and blue stripes or swirls on them.

There you go, spacing out again. Great.

"I said we better go see our movie," Chris said, flashing another brilliant smile. "Everything cool?"

"Yeah." Lisa nodded, assuring herself it was true. "Yeah."

"You looked like you were trying to figure out time travel for a second there." Before Lisa could reply, Chris grinned and added, "It's okay. I have that effect on people."

Lisa giggled, then laughed, a good bit louder than she'd meant to, and she got some funny looks. She put a hand to her mouth. "Chris, you're gonna make me look ridiculous."

Deftly shifting the popcorn to his other hand, Chris took Lisa's and, half-bowing, kissed it. Meeting her eyes, he said softly, "I'd never make you look ridiculous."

Spark.

Lisa had always thought that whenever it happened. Whatever 'it' was, it concerned boys, and if one of them had 'it', there'd be a spark. First date, second, maybe the first time they ever talked. Lisa had never been wrong about the Spark. Even with all the boys who'd disappointed her in the end, there'd been moments with each one that you didn't ever want to forget.

Before Lisa could think much more about it, Chris stepped back and raised the popcorn high in front of him. "But I never said I'd never make me look ridiculous." Pausing dramatically, Chris went out in the middle of the lobby and loudly began reciting Shakespeare or something:

"To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of-"

A shriek of startled laughter escaped before Lisa could clap a hand over her mouth. Already knowing she'd be getting a million questions and dealing with a million rumors over letting some nobody-new-kid ask her out, Lisa was mortified by the antics but having too much fun to actually get mad about it.

Instead, she settled for going up and kissing him on the cheek, which instantly silenced her newest maybe-possibly-probably boyfriend.

Chris stared at her, eyes wide, and touched a hand to his cheek.

"It's okay," Lisa quipped, "I have that effect on people."

Chris made a noise that sounded like "Uh."

"C'mon," Lisa told him. "Let's go see a movie."

ΩΩΩΩΩ

The movie date went way better than Chris had expected. Lisa had actually laughed at his jokes. She hadn't ridiculed him for the clowning around in the lobby, even though that risked making her look ridiculous, which he'd promised he'd never do.

When Chris had told her that, if some serious electricity had jumped between them, Chris wouldn't have been surprised. Man. Where was a scientist or somebody when you needed them?

And the movie itself- Rush Hour had been pretty good. A solid buddy-cop movie, nice and dramatic but not too much. Chris spent what felt like 200% of the film trying to decide whether he should try putting an arm around Lisa's shoulders, and contemplating the social consequences if he tried it and she rejected him.

Eventually, Chris decided The hell with it and tried, making it as easy and natural as he could, which was not very, given how petrified he was of screwing up a date like this. He didn't know what he was doing trying to date Lisa Doyle. What was he even doing here?

But- he tried it all the same.

And it worked.

Lisa had leaned toward him after that, resting her head against his shoulder. Daring a little more, Chris gently stroked her hair for a while, barely even noticing the movie at all. Lisa shifted a little, moving closer. She smelled like heaven; whatever blend of perfume she used, it was perfect. Just like her.

ΩΩΩΩΩ

Trying to be natural about it, hoping desperately not to screw things up on the home stretch, Chris chattered casually on the way back, starting off with the movie, but going with whatever Lisa was most responsive to. She even asked for some more of his jokes, so many of which, as embarrassing as it was, came from Chris' dad.

It was lucky indeed that the Marshall Dad Jokes were helping Chris out tonight. His money sure wasn't going to, and neither was his social clout, neither of which Chris could brag about. His competition- oh, yes. Lisa was used to going out with some of the wealthiest, most talked-about boys around.

Walking her back to the Doyle house's front door, Chris tried not to think about that too much. Instead, he kept his hand entwined with hers, offering a friendly smile. She smiled back.

As Chris was about to say 'goodnight,' Lisa leaned in and kissed him on the lips. His whole body tensed; it felt like some serious voltage was racing through him. Chris froze. He didn't know how long he stood there after Lisa's soft, pretty lips parted with his. He just stared.

"You're so handsome," Lisa told him, smiling warmly.

"Kay," Chris managed to croak. "Mm-hm."

Lisa paused, tilting her head to the left. "Weren't you gonna ask me out again?"

"Wangowimme?" Chris blurted.

"Go? Go where?" Lisa asked. She paused thoughtfully. "I love shopping. I bet you could show me around the best stores."

"Kay," Chris agreed instantly, despite a small warning in the back of his mind, small but urgent, that he had no idea where he'd get the kind of money Lisa Doyle had to be accustomed to. Her usual suitors were the Jason Morgans of the world: classically handsome, supremely confident, and fantastically rich.

What could some decent-ish gym muscles and a whole lot of love do to compare to all that?

I don't know, Chris thought, but please God, don't stop this now.

"You're so handsome," Lisa said again, still smiling fondly at him. She pecked him on the lips again, put a hand on his left arm. "How much do you work out?"

"Always," Chris nodded eagerly. "All time. The time. Like, I live there. The gym."

"That's so cool," Lisa replied, sounding pleased by his response. "I bet you'll be showing Jason and Tony how it's done pretty soon, huh?"

"Oh-oh, yeah," Chris responded, bobbing his head some more. Still reeling from that kiss, he would have readily agreed that Martians should land and exterminate the human race tomorrow provided Lisa Doyle said she was all for it.

"Maybe you could show me around the YMCA sometime. I like swimming and stuff."

"Yeah- yes, yeah, I could," Chris agreed, his head still spinning. "I can do that. So- yeah- uh, Saturday, right?"

Another peck on the lips, that smile. "Pick me up at three. I won't let Dad scare you, promise."

"Sowngood," Chris blabbed. He hurriedly cleared his throat, blushing crimson, feeling like his face was burning. "Sounds good. Great." Trying to recover the chivalrous gentleman, Chris bowed, took her hand in his again, and kissed it. He looked up and flashed her another one of his smiles, feeling better when she smiled back. "I'll see you on Saturday. Goodnight."

Taking care not to stumble over his own feet, the steps, the concrete front walk, or the air around him, Chris made it back to his Camaro and started it up, feeling his jellied knees wobble as the V8 kicked over, filling the air with its deep, rumbling note.

Putting his sunglasses on for effect, Chris decided to go for a casual, cool-guy wave when Lisa appeared in a window upstairs. She smiled and waved back, and Chris felt himself grinning. He felt like a million dollars. He'd just successfully gone out with Lisa Doyle. That was one for the record. It had gone better than Chris had dared hope.

Please, God, just give me more of this, Chris thought fervently as he put the Camaro into gear and started driving away, making every effort to look at ease, one arm on the center console, one hand holding the wheel. I don't know what I did right, exactly, but man, I gotta keep doing it.

A/N: Reviews are always welcome. If there's an oversight with the chapter, any issue that might need to be corrected, let me know in a PM. You're also welcome to send me a message if you just want to comment more, or ask about the story.

This chapter was completed on 12-18-2022, a full eleven months after I completed Chapter 1 back in January 2022. We're almost through with the year, but I managed to write a short prequel to "The Good Son" and my 'fic "The Second Face," as well as update one of the primary stories on my "active story" list. Hopefully it was worth the wait.

I really wasn't sure of exactly how a first date between Lisa Doyle and Chris Marshall would play out, but Lisa respects confidence, prizes good looks and fitness, and possibly most importantly of all, she just likes to have a good time. Chris would have selected a shirt that was on the small side on purpose, wanting to draw attention to whatever fitness he can currently boast about, and he did a lot to win people over in "The Good Sons" with a go-for-broke boldness and his fun sense of humor. That also served him well here.

Lisa is still holding out for Henry to ask her out like she's been wanting him to do for years, but unlike in "The Good Sons," Henry deliberately chooses to pass her by even into 12th grade. She's still hoping for Henry to change his mind anytime, but Chris has made a good first impression.