Chapter 3
A/N: I got the inspiration to write this over a couple of hours in one day, and in trying to recall 1990s slang and how it would have likely been used by American high schoolers, I decided to include use of the word "retard" which was a fashionable American word for "idiot' or even just "fool" around the 1990s to late 2000s.
The word is reprehensible to use as a synonym for just being unwise or dumb, associating that with neurodivergence and developmental disability. I have removed the word from my daily speech, but here, in the late 1990s, it would be used, along with a certain overuse of "like" as a filler word in conversation.
Chris got up early on Monday morning, determined for probably the first time ever to be first to school. He needed to be for his plan to work.
Sure enough, after driving over to school in all of forty degrees (if even that) with the damn Camaro's heater only doing anything for the last mile or so, Chris found the front doors of his latest high school unlocked after the walk from the senior lot.
Then it was just a couple of minutes' worth of wandering through the antiseptic-white hallways, pretending like he wasn't completely lost and (slowly going crazy from how skullfuckingly dull modern school design was), Chris managed to find the locker he was looking for, the one he had relentlessly pestered Jason Morgan, Tony Summers, and Mason Sarkozy to get when all three were hanging out at the Y on Sunday, just shooting the shit and having some fun with some of the stations and weights.
Jason had seemed a little standoffish, a little surprised Chris was there with them, but Mason and Tony were cool with it, especially since Tony had called Chris on Saturday and told him where and when to 'happen' to see the other three. Tony was awesome.
After locating the locker, Chris drew the red rose from the inside breast pocket on his coat. If she liked it, he'd get to take the credit later. If she didn't, he'd have to blame it on someone else. The most beautiful girl in Maine had no shortage of would-be suitors. That part would be easy if it came to that.
I think she'll like it.
That confident, assuring thought made Chris smile, in spite of the nervousness he felt. He had a feeling this was going to work, that it would go over well.
I mean, the shopping date sure did. I spent just about all the money I had saved up from mowing lawns and stuff, but it went great. So, hopefully this goes great, too.
With that, Chris carefully opened the locker. Lisa Doyle- the Lisa Doyle- never bothered to actually lock it. After all, who would dare even touch the door, let alone the handle, but her or someone she liked? Who would dare mess with anything in there, except some idiot with a death-wish, or a suitor with a lot of butterflies in his stomach?
Gently tucking the rose into one of the upper vents on the inside of the locker door, Chris caught sight of his reflection in the sizeable mirror Lisa had fixed in place. Clean-shaven, flaming red hair styled exactly the same way that Jason Morgan, Mason Sarkozy, Tony Summers, Paul Hendricks and so many others did theirs, Chris looked good. He sure looked more confident than he felt, but with things going so well with his dating life, maybe that confident look was warranted.
It's gonna be a good day, Chris thought, smiling at his image, sketching out a salute. He closed the locker door and went off to see if the cafeteria's breakfast food was halfway decent. So long as it was digestible, Chris figured, it'd be fine.
ΩΩΩΩΩ
Lisa made it into school fashionably late, as she always did, sauntered over to her locker with a half-dozen of her inner circle following her every move, like she always did. A cluster of hopeful junior girls and even a few daring sophomores accompanied them, each one secretly praying for a chance to impress the Queen, the most beautiful and popular girl in school.
Apart from Brittany Jorgensen and Nicole Miles, two of her oldest and best friends, Lisa largely ignored them, making only passing comments and half-attentive responses to whatever the hell any of them said.
It wasn't like her wandering attention span meant she was missing anything; as the defining trend-setter and boss of the school rumor mill, Lisa was the one the social universe revolved around. People waited on her, not the other way around.
At least she didn't have to deal with any bullshit from her teachers. Lisa had always done well enough in school, producing respectable grades and keeping parent-teacher conferences from ever being anything but a quick hello-goodbye. It would have been hopelessly uncool to actually have to pay much attention to any of this crap.
Passing through a four-way intersection, Lisa almost tripped over her own feet upon seeing Henry Evans off to the right, smiling as he chatted with his brother Mark about something. Why it had taken him years already to notice Lisa was impossible to understand. Lisa knew this was gonna be her year, though. Soon enough, the biggest, coolest hunk ever would realize the girl of his dreams had been right there all along.
But in the meantime, to keep from getting too bored, Chris Marshal would keep Lisa entertained. Maybe more than just entertained, with how hard he was trying to be cool, impress her and everyone else in the popular crowd here.
Still half-listening and half-responding to the pack of girls following her every step, Lisa reached her locker and saw something sticking out just a bit from one of the upper vents. Instantly she felt a surge of fury, realizing that someone besides her, someone she hadn't given specific instructions to, had gone in and touched her locker. Opened it, even.
Whoever it is, Lisa thought savagely, I'll get them. I'll make them wish I'd just put their head on a stick on the fucking lawn instead, I'll-
The rose was sitting perfectly upright, stem tucked into the vent, right above her mirror. A white rose. Lisa had always loved roses, and white most of all, because nothing said perfection like white. A fact that her past boyfriends, former suitors, had each known. But this didn't feel like an ex-boyfriend trying his luck again. No, this was different.
"Liz," Brittany commented, "I think your new boyfriend really likes you."
"Yeah, you think? Thanks, Liz."
Lisa meant it to be biting, sarcastic, but that only lasted halfway through, her tone softening as she considered the gesture more. She turned thoughtful, recalling her two dates with Chris Marshal over the weekend. New to school, obviously trying way too hard to reach above his league, but surprisingly funny, cool, and good-looking, he had won enough points that a third date was definitely happening.
"Wow," Nicole added. "I wo-"
"Nicole, any good details about Henry?"
"Well, yeah, bu-"
"I'll ask for 'em later. Meantime, someone find Chris. Tell him I'm like, super, super pissed. He better come see me right away." When no one responded after a couple seconds, Lisa sighed. "God, you all suck so much- I'm not asking. Someone go find that dorky redhead already."
Brittany laughed and pointed to one of the younger girls. "You. Go find Chris Marshal, right now. Tell him just like Liz said."
Lisa turned to the other blonde with a raised eyebrow as the appointed messenger turned and hurried away. "Who said you could call me Liz, Britt?"
"Who said you could call me Britt, Liz?'
"Whoever made boys so stupid and so hot at the same time."
"Yeah, like, God or something."
"Yeah." Lisa laughed. "God or something. C'mon." She pulled the textbooks and notebooks she'd need for the morning's classes from her locker, stuffed them into her bag, and zipped it up. "Britt, you stuck up for Chris, so, I'm gonna be so mad at you if he doesn't find me before lunch."
"Oh, God, I'm so scared," Brittany retorted, raising her eyebrows and waving both hands in front of her. "He'll show up, Liz. He showed up early to bring you a rose." She paused. "Everyone's gonna say you two are together real soon. It's starting already. I mean, it's not like nobody saw you guys on Date One or Date Two."
Lisa smiled to herself, happy that all was as it should have been. A boy was working overtime to impress her, providing gifts and entertainment and the prospect of more of both, girls all over the school feared her and sought her favor, and the rumor mill was riveted already on a new story- that the graceful, stylish, super-cool Lisa Doyle just might have a new boyfriend.
I guess that's okay for now, Lisa decided. Let 'em talk if they want.
ΩΩΩΩΩ
Jason Morgan was kinda-sorta trailing Brittany Jorgensen through the hall, enjoying the sight, when Tony and Chris practically collided with him. Tony had been doing dumb shit like that on purpose since First Grade, and while it really pissed Jason off, he'd never had the heart to tell the greaseball to stop.
"Hey, Jason!" Tony sang on his left.
"Jason!" Chris added on the right.
"The fuck do you two dorks want?" Jason asked, trying to sound mean but not really having his heart in it. The pleasant sight of Brittany Jorgensen's ass in a new pair of designer jeans had done wonders for his mood.
"Chris wants to say hi," Tony explained. "Oh, and me. I wanna say hi. Hi, Jason."
"What, are you two- hey, why is- are we fucking friends now?" Jason glanced between the two boys now flanking him. "Are we friends with the new kid or something?"
Tony laughed. "Jason, man, things move fast around here. Chris already knows about that time you tried drinking two Capri Sun up your nose in 2nd Grade."
"The hell'd you tell 'im about that for?" Jason asked in exasperation. "I met this kid like last Friday and- how do we really know he's not a fucking retard?"
"Jason, dude, I kinda am dating Lisa Doyle now. So… I'm cool." Chris Marshal grinned. "Like, Tony Summers, Paul Hendricks, Mason Sarkozy, Jason Morgan kinda cool."
"Are you gonna just fucking list every best friend I have?"
"Yo, you're your own best friend too?" Chris exclaimed suddenly. "Dude, I thought it was just me! Kickass!" He raised his hand for a high-five, and when Jason made a face in response, Tony grabbed his wrist and raised Jason's hand for him. Chris loudly high-fived him and whooped.
"You're fucking weird, man," Jason said, shaking his head.
"No, I'm cool!" Chris laughed. "Look, so, I wanted to say thanks to you guys, for, you know, helping me out with the advice and stuff over the weekend."
"You're just fucking lucky my parents are too dorky to not take my number outta the school phone book."
"Dude, I'd have just given it to him if they had," Tony pointed out.
"Tony, whose goddamn side are you on?"
"Brah, I don't pick sides. Tony Summers is a lover."
"Jason, man, you ever look at this guy and think, you wanna be just like him when you grow up?" Chris asked.
Jason sighed, realizing that he was doomed now, stuck with this random ginger who'd shown up out of nowhere for 12th grade. Tony obviously liked this dude, and if Tony wanted someone around, that was that so far as Jason's typical social life went.
"Chris, man, if you're gonna hang with us you gotta be cool. Real cool. The coolest. So don't be such a dork all the time." Jason paused. "You can fucking read, right?"
Chris paused. "Yeah. I mean, like, long as the book has a lot of pretty pictures, and-"
"Okay, well, my address is in the phone book. Tony comes over to swim sometimes so, I guess you can do that after school today. If I don't change my mind."
"Dude." Chris threw one arm around Jason's buff shoulders. "I'm so there it's insane."
"God," Jason exclaimed, laughing despite himself. "Get offa me. Don't be so fuckin' gay, man."
"I'm this close to officially being Lisa Doyle's new boyfriend," Chris replied with a grin, shifting his backpack, a hand on each strap. "How much straighter can-"
"Hey," a girl called out, "Chris Marshal!"
"Huh?" Chris stopped, turning around to see a pretty sophomore or somebody approaching.
"Lisa Doyle wants you to come find her."
"Oh." Chris' face fell. "Uh- can you tell her- hey, where is she?"
"Just go find her," the girl repeated. "I'd do it fast, too." With that she left, leaving Chris staring blankly after her.
"I fucking warned you not to overdo it," Jason added.
"Jason, he's gonna be fine." Tony responded. He thought for a few moments, then went on, "Listen. Lisa loves messing with people. She's probably doing this so you'll drop everything and go see her."
"I better," Chris said uncertainly. "Either way I can't make her wait. I gotta go. I'll see you guys."
"You shouldn't have just invited him in like this," Jason grouched, watching Chris go.
"He's cool, man. I'm telling you. Give 'im a chance."
"I am. This is me giving him a chance."
"Twenty bucks says she wants to make out with him in an empty classroom."
"You're on, cuntface." Jason laughed. "I'm so winning this one."
"We'll see."
ΩΩΩΩΩ
Trying to hurry without just going into a full-on sprint, Chris darted around the halls of Chamberlain High, attempting to find Lisa before class started. When that didn't work, he looked between first and second, then second and third. Finally, after agonizing, spaced-the-fuck-out, through one class after the next, Chris found Lisa on the way to lunch.
"Hey," Chris called out.
"Oh, hey," Lisa answered, offering him a cool glance. "Okay. You finally showed up."
"Sorry. I got lo-"
"Details of your incompetence do not interest me."
"Deta- incomp- wha-?"
Lisa chuckled and offered her right hand. Chris took it and they entwined their fingers, actually, literally holding hands, for all the school to see. Sure enough, people talked. Heads turned. And the story already was beginning to be told, that the new kid had somehow managed to snag Lisa Doyle, first catching her interest, then- so far at least- managing to keep it.
Chris smiled again. This wasn't going so bad. Not at all.
ΩΩΩΩΩ
With about fifteen minutes left for their lunch period, Lisa, Brittany and Nicole made the usual excuses and left the cafeteria, heading far away to a bathroom they typically used, one where they knew they would not be seen, heard, or disturbed.
"God, I hate this," Brittany huffed, dropping her bag in a corner.
"Fucking sucks," Nicole agreed.
"Yeah, well, I'm not turning into a fucking whale," Lisa retorted.
"Okay. Let's just do this." Brittany sighed. "Let's do it."
The three girls each picked a stall. Lisa knelt, stared down at the toilet bowl for a moment, hating what she was about to do but knowing she had to do it. Then she opened her mouth and jammed her left index finger down her throat.
With identical, horrible retching sounds, the three girls started to vomit, forcing themselves to reject everything they'd taken in during lunch. They almost never kept anything they supposedly ate, though even that had to be strictly monitored to keep up appearances. Lisa made herself throw up three times before she was satisfied she'd emptied out everything.
The shit I do to keep my waist how it is, Lisa thought. Then she flushed, turned and went to the sink to start cleaning herself up with the toothbrush, toothpaste and mouthwash she specially brought along in her bag every day.
"Hey, um, Lisa? Are you in there?"
"Jesus Christ!" Brittany almost shouted in surprise.
"Who- who is that?" Nicole called out.
Lisa sighed. "Chris, get the fuck out of h-"
"Lisa, can I come in?"
"No!" all three girls answered.
"It- it sounded like you were sick." Chris paused. "Are you okay?"
"Jesus, I'm fine, just- just go!" Lisa felt her face reddening. Christ, it had taken so little time for him to find her, and now that he probably knew about this, she was gonna just have to kill him. Nothing else for it. Just a really cute, dead ginger in a classroom, nothing you'd need to call the cops over or anything.
"I just- I just worried." Chris paused. "You seemed- kinda nervous at lunch."
"I said I'm fine!"
"But-"
"Okay, okay." Lisa hurriedly used the mouthwash she'd brought, spilling half the damn cup she poured, then dropped it on the sink and hurried out to find her wannabe-boyfriend waiting in the hall, visibly concerned. "What?"
"I just- I was worried. About you."
"I'm fine."
"You- were throwing up."
"It's nothing."
"But you-"
"I made myself do it, okay? You're a boy, you don't have to keep your waist, like-" Lisa gestured at her sleek figure. "You wouldn't get it. Now- just- go away."
Chris hesitated. "I- I wanna help."
Lisa sighed. "Chris, I'm feeling fine."
"You shouldn't do that to yourself."
"Oh, telling me what to do? Two dates and you can tell me how to live?"
Chris paused. "No."
"Good."
"I'd just like to ask if… maybe you'd wanna go watch me play basketball with some of the guys this Friday. Before our next date."
"No, we're- I want a date on Wednesday, too." Lisa tossed her head back, running her fingers through her hair. Empty stomach, perfect figure, one soon-to-be-dead boy who knew she did this. Everything under control, in other words.
"Oh. Uh, well, I mean, the guys also box and stuff on Wednesdays or something. I can ask."
"I wanna go see a movie on Wednesday. You'll play basketball or whatever on Friday."
Chris smiled. "Sure. Okay. Hey, can I ask you something?"
"What?"
"You liked the rose. Yeah?"
"Okay. Yeah. I did. Sure." Lisa tried suppressing a smile, couldn't quite manage it. "Okay, yes. I liked it."
"Then can I ask you a question? Just, like, one question."
"Wait- you better not tell anybody." Lisa hesitated. "If you tell, I'll-we'll- you'll be sorry.
"No worries. Secret's safe." Chris made a fist, bumped it twice against his chest for emphasis. "I just had this feeling and I saw you three headed this direction. But I'm not telling anyone. When I get back I'll tell 'em I forgot one of my textbooks."
"Yeah, right."
"Already added my Biology book to my bag." Chris grinned. "Fuckin' things from 1985."
"Dork."
"Ginger-dork," Chris corrected. Lisa tried to frown but couldn't help but laugh.
"So can I ask you my question?"
"Sure."
"You're so beautiful. You're so cool. You're so smart." Chris paused. "Why'd you need to hurt yourself to be perfect- when you already are?"
A whole bunch of butterflies took off in Lisa's stomach, fluttering around, making her lose a lot of her usual too-cool-for-school composure. She tried some sarcastic retort, stumbled on it.
Finally, Chris gently said, "Just think about it. Please." He offered her a graceful bow, blew her a kiss and smiled. "See you in class next period."
"Yeah. See you."
Chris headed off, head held high, shoulders nice and firm, butt looking great even in a used pair of jeans that looked a little too small.
"Liz, you should've just killed him," Brittany said, coming out of the bathroom with her own bag in one hand and Lisa's in the other.
"If he blabs I'll kill him," Nicole vowed.
"Can't date Henry Evans if you're in prison," Lisa answered evenly. "Right?"
"Yeah. Well."
"Let's see what he does. If he tells we'll make him sorry. If not- just leave him to me."
ΩΩΩΩΩ
Making some excuses to Mom and quickly bolting for the door after an early dinner, Chris did his best to do equal damage to his ears and the Camaro's not-that-great stock speakers on the way over to Jason Morgan's house.
Boldness had been his doom and salvation time and time again in life; Chris had experienced some bitter disappointment and mortifying embarrassment, and sometimes it was a blessing that he had been made to change schools and start over so many times. But here- at his new school, with his vow to really be somebody for senior year- boldness had paid off wonderfully.
Hopefully that's gonna work again tonight, Chris thought, turning off Dufresne Street and heading up Willow Lane, past fine suburban homes that could easily have passed for modest palaces. On the right side of a cul-de-sac, looming over the rest of the gently-sloping hill it stood on, the Morgan house stood waiting, all fine brick, brass and what looked to be actual windows from some colonial dude's mansion.
I dunno what a house like this costs, Chris thought as he parked in front of the place, but I also don't think I can count that high.
Just then Jason Morgan himself came around the front of the house, wearing a jacket that looked like it cost more than the Camaro, a red ballcap fixed backward on his head. He flipped Chris off as the redheaded boy got out of his car. Unsure of just how to respond, Chris settled for flipping Jason off right back.
That brought a laugh as Jason headed down the lawn toward him.
"Hey, dumbass."
"Hey, fuckface."
Another laugh. "Okay, look. Tony wants me to, like, invite you over now and stuff. But if you turn out to be like, you know, super dorky or something, I'm not doing it. You gotta be cool, man. So be cool."
"That's the plan," Chris answered casually, shrugging. "What else would I do?"
"Nothing. No point to anything if you can't even be cool, man." Jason shrugged back. "C'mon. Tony's waiting for us in the pool."
ΩΩΩΩΩ
The Morgan house wasn't just big. It was massive, a palace fit for a king. Or in Jason's case, the son of a Maine Supreme Judicial Court judge. The Chief Justice, in fact, as Jason made a point of correcting Chris on no less than three times.
Rare works of art adorned the walls, stood on end tables and inside display cases. Entire rooms existed for just about anything, with two separate game rooms, one for a big TV with an N64 and Playstation, one centered around a pool table, looking like some lounge they'd probably had on the Titanic.
But Chris made sure not to stare too long, and not to get caught staring if he could help it. Jason Morgan was one of the boys who defined what cool even was at Chamberlain High School, and even getting his best friend to like you wasn't gonna be enough if he decided you were just a total dork.
There was what looked like a private pub in the expansive basement, with all kinds of liquor visible on the shelves. A laundry room big enough to double as an extra bedroom housed multiple washers, dryers, and counter space for folding clothes. And behind an opaque glass door, a heated pool big enough to function as a swim meet site waited, with its single current occupant lazily moving around, his red swimming trunks fitting nicely with his tan skin, muscular physique, and jet-black hair.
"Hey, Tony!" Jason called out as he and Chris entered the room. "I hope you didn't piss in my fucking pool!"
"Who said it's yours, jackass?"
"Me, cuntface! Now just calm down already, I know you've been waiting for a good look at me all day." He then started stripping down, tossing his clothes on one of the nearby deck chairs. His pair of trunks was a stylish blue-to-white, starting as a deep, dark blue at the bottom and getting ever lighter toward the top. When that was all Jason was wearing, he went to the deep end and jumped in.
Not sure if this next plan to do the bold-but-hopefully-cool thing was a good idea, but remembering how it had worked in the past, Chris ditched his jacket, pulled his shirt over his head, and before anyone could even ask whether he'd brought any swimming trunks (no sir), Chris had pulled down his pants and underwear and was walking over to the side of the pool.
"Uh, Chris?" Jason called. "You're fucking naked, man."
"So?" Chris asked. "I mean…" He shrugged and smiled. "Don't need to look if you don't want to." With that, he jumped in. The water was just right, nice and warm, and it felt awesome getting to skinny-dip again. There were some awkward laughs and glances from Tony and Jason, but the two boys otherwise kept up a normal conversation.
Tony, who had liked Chris almost instantly, made a point of drawing Chris into each topic, even if Jason didn't seem but so eager to include him at times. Chris made sure to laugh at Jason's jokes, poke fun at some of Tony's, and offer a few of his own, all while going around the pool nude, like he'd never even heard of swimming shorts.
The boys inevitably spent almost an hour talking about girls, swapping stories, and while Chris got worried his inexperience (in some things) might embarrass him in front of two of Chamberlain's coolest boys, he had enough fun stuff to share that neither of them seemed to mind, or at least chose not to mention, that none of his stories involved actually having sex.
Talking to them, listening attentively, and even eying their physiques, Chris knew he had picked ideal role models at his new school. Not just powerful figures on the social scene, but boys who looked exactly the way Lisa Doyle liked her boyfriends to look. Sleek, muscular, athletic and, whenever possible, offering lots of eye candy. Thinking ahead to the upcoming games the boys were gonna be doing, games of basketball, floor hockey and other stuff Chris was gonna join in on (whether he could play for shit or not), Chris figured he'd find some excuse to make it a shirts-and-skins game, and always, always, be on the skins team.
No way would someone so set on being cool ever do anything else. And besides- Chris was in good shape already, enough that he even had a pack slowly getting chiseled out on his abs. He had to show the other guys he had no fear. If he could do that, maybe things would keep going his way.
I can sure keep my fingers crossed, Chris thought later on, sitting in the hot tub with Jason and Tony, still not wearing a thing. Telling them about his first time ever getting head, Chris made sure to swear a few extra times and offer plenty of details, since Jason seemed pretty gung-ho for the cursing and both he and Tony loved swapping details about stuff, trying to impress each other with techniques and cool experiences.
Jason was still a little reserved toward Chris, a bit distant throughout the evening, but he also didn't seem to mind the three-way conversation at all, talked his parents into letting both of his guests stay for dinner despite no prior notice, and offered Chris a fist bump right along with Tony at the end of the evening.
Chris even got daring and typed out a small text message to Lisa when he got home. She responded pretty soon after, and while it cost Chris over an hour of sleep, he didn't even care.
That thing with Lisa making herself throw up bothered him still, but they didn't get to that. Time for that later. Chris chose to concentrate on the positives, looking forward to lifting with the guys almost every day now, continuing to impress people. Most of all, he was going to keep up whatever he was doing right.
It really was like Ice Cube said, man, Chris thought when he finally sent a good-night text message, adding the text-messaging version of a smiley-face, and getting one in return. I didn't even have to use my A.K., man. It really was a good day.
ΩΩΩΩΩ
The rest of the week passed by easily enough, even if Lisa was struggling to come up with a plan for how to keep a perfect figure without forcing herself to throw up all the time. She tried just plain starving herself, but Chris caught on to that by Wednesday and started bringing her celery and crap like that, gently urging her to eat, even pleading if they were alone.
What surprised Lisa was how much Chris genuinely seemed to be upset over this. He had happened to find out on Monday and said some sweet things at the time. That would have been enough, and Lisa had half-expected to hear no more about it. Instead, he was trying to talk her into going to the gym more, going with him even for Chrissakes, talking about healthy food options, so on and so on.
Unsure whether to be irritated or pleased, Lisa settled for doing nothing, just letting Chris talk and express his concern, nibbling on some of the greens he brought in or bought her at the cafeteria. And yes, everyone decided she and Chris were a couple by Thursday, sealed by word that Lisa and Chris had made out after Date Three. They had, and it had been a lot of fun, but Lisa stayed aloof, only really acknowledging the rumors with a couple close friends, like always.
Friday finally showed up and with it, the end to another boring week at this school. Well, not entirely boring. In the class they shared right after lunch, Lisa and her new suitor were sitting together, flirting and just killing time.
Chris, who had almost killed them both when he got a handjob on the way back from an impromptu Date Four on Thursday (disconnecting the battery on her Suburban had been enough for Lisa to pretend 'car trouble' and get Chris to drive her around for a while), was happy to pass notes and quite good at hiding them.
Driving over to the YMCA that Henry, Mark, and almost every other boy who mattered at Chamberlain went to most afternoons, Lisa headed in and on up to the second floor, where the boys Chris spent much of his time sucking up to (quite successfully, to be fair) and a group from Waynflete School were playing an improvised tournament of pickup basketball.
Brittany Jorgensen had (big surprise) ended up with Jason Morgan again, and the details there were amazing. Better still, but tougher to listen to without dying from sheer envy, were Nicole's heavenly dates with Henry Evans and visits to his house, both of which usually led straight to sex, Henry having the needs he did.
Lisa understood; after all, maintaining a body like that, being such a big deal and so incredible at so much, had to mean tons of stress. You needed to relax regularly with all that going on, or you'd go crazy or something-
"YES!"
A now-familiar boy's voice. That triumphant shout. Lisa started, having not realized how thoroughly she'd spaced out. She turned to look for Chris and found him.
Hello. Oh. Wow…
Chris was standing tall and proud, a coat of sweat gleaming on every inch of exposed skin, emphasizing all his well-sculpted muscles under the buzzing gym lights. His red hair was damp with sweat, a mess, but his arms were raised high, his fists clenched, his eyes alive with triumph. He was grinning, celebrating the long-distance shot he'd made to sink the ball. He'd made it despite the odds.
As Lisa watched, a bead of sweat dripped off Chris' chin and down in the little valley between his two nice-and-getting-better pectoral muscles. His chest wasn't as hunky as, say, Jason or Mason or Tony, not yet, but it wasn't bad, and…
The bead of sweat. It slid down between the two pecs, then gradually traced a path down his smooth, taut belly. Lisa's stared, taking it all in. This was- amazing. Stunning. Chris was spectacular. Lisa had almost forgotten how to even breathe, and if it meant missing a sight like this, breathing was overrated anyway. Blinking, too. Anything was overrated, if it meant missing a second of this.
A/N: 2-26-2023.
Word count for this chapter (excluding any author's notes) is 5,316.
Almost three months later and I finally got a new chapter done for this story! I originally figured I would have the chapter cover just Monday of a new week in October 1998, but decided to add Lisa seeing Chris shirtless at a basketball game at the gym.
In this chapter I made a few references to some 'official' works:
-"Details of your incompetence do not interest me" – The Devil Wears Prada (2006 film)
-Chris thinking he can't count that high – Gears of War (2006 video game)
-Lisa's fondness for white roses, with her thought about how nothing says perfection like white – The Hunger Games: Mockingjay-Part 2 (2015 film)
I never specified Lisa Doyle as having any particular liking for roses, white or otherwise, but it fits my understanding of her character and personality. Chris is also much more genuine than Henry. He doesn't pretend to care; he actually cares. His romantic gestures have so much more behind them as a result, hence he took the time and effort to find out Lisa likes white roses, and placed one in her locker before most of the school arrived, anticipating correctly that she would get there and find it.
Originally, I had no plans for Lisa's struggle with bulimia nervosa (an eating disorder generally focused around severe worry about one's weight) to appear in this chapter or for Chris to confront her about it, but I worked on a scene with just that and liked the result overall. Chris just sensed something was off about the way Lisa excused herself during lunch, decided to follow and found out what Lisa was doing.
Understandably he's greatly concerned by this, and while Lisa doesn't entirely believe that he really cares about it the way he says, she mostly accepts his concern as valid and settles for internally fussing about Chris bugging her. Chris obviously does care, however. Henry went a whole school year dating Lisa and did nothing about her eating disorder, because so long as she kept her figure the way he liked it, Henry didn't have any interest in what Lisa did. Chris mostly stumbles upon this struggle Lisa has, but I do think he would not have waited to act and express concern about it.
Writing about Jason and Tony becoming friends with Chris when I already wrote about them steadily becoming best friends with him over their 12th-grade year in "The Good Sons" is a little confusing, because I want to depict them as already knowing each other, and have to remind myself they're still largely strangers. Tony Summers took to Chris sooner and is more open about it when he likes people, however, so that helped me determine his and Jason's behavior in this chapter.
The scene where Lisa is captivated by seeing Chris shirtless during a game of basketball echoes one years before when Lisa first noticed Henry Evans in middle school, under the same basic circumstances. She doesn't realize how similar the two moments are, but both really drew her interest to the boy expressing the shout of triumph. Unconscious memory of that strong positive reaction from years ago impacted Lisa's response to the moment depicted here. AM83220 and I went over this idea a few times and I believe it's useful to include in the story, as well as a fun throwback to the first time Lisa was strongly attracted to a boy.
Reviews are always welcome. PM's also, especially if there are any changes or corrections I need to make.