Consenting Adult
by
Owlcroft

Lydia had designed and made a new outfit, a sleek scarlet tunic over tight black Capri pants, and had swept her hair up into a loose bun on the top of her head with several strands pulled out to dangle over her ears. Silver bangles clinked on her wrists as she proudly twirled before Beetlejuice. "So, how do I look?"

"You look . . ." Beetlejuice's eyes widened in admiration before he turned away from her a bit, "you look . . ."

"Yes?" Lydia cocked her head and stepped closer to him.

"You look all grown up," he said with a hint of mournfulness.

"I do?" She threw out her arms and twirled around again, pleased. Then his tone of voice and solemn face got through her exhilaration. "Aren't you . . . I mean, I'm glad you think so. That means you like it, right?

"Yeah, I do. You look . . . great! Really great and –" he sighed a little, "grown-up."

The seventeen-year-old eyed her best friend, hopeful that one day he'd be more than that, with patience. "You say that like it's a bad thing. Beej, I am kind of grown-up now, you know. My birthday last month was a milestone of sorts, and next year I'll be a senior and then . . . oh, how I'm looking forward to graduating and starting to really live my life!"

"You'll be amazing, whatever you do," Beetlejuice muttered, fiddling with her hairbrush.

"I was hoping for a little more appreciation from you," she sidled up next to him and took the brush from him to set it back on the vanity. "I made this outfit special for tonight's concert. I can't believe you got tickets to the Rocking Trolls!"

He shrugged, feigning nonchalance, still looking away from her.

Lydia raised one eyebrow and put her hands on her hips. "Okay, I know what this is about. And I have told you, more than once, that – BJ, please look at me." She pulled at the arm she was holding until he faced her. "In the eyes, not the feet, Beej?" Once he'd managed that, she looked at him seriously. "Just what part of 'best friends forever' do you not understand? Or is it that you don't believe me?"

"No, 'course I believe you, Lyds. It's just . . . I don't know, maybe it's that it seems to good to be true?" He hunched up one shoulder and gave her an uncertain look. "You know I'm no good at that sappy stuff, but I guess I'm just . . . sort of . . . afraid things will change without you knowing it and then –" he broke off suddenly, switching gears. "We've gotta go, babes; we'll be late if we don't leave right now! And you know what a crowd there'll be."

"Okay," she sighed as he pulled her through the mirror. "But we're talking about this later, you hear?"

ooooo

After the concert, during which they sang along and danced to 'Aggravation', 'Get Outta My Crowd', 'Playin' in Mire', 'Condolences for the Devil', and many more of the band's big hits, Lydia came out still humming 'Drunken Jack Trash'. She sang a little bit as she took Beetlejuice's hand. "'I'm drunken Jack Trash, I've got gas, gas, gas!'" She pulled him into another impromptu dance and he happily obliged.

He grinned at her as he spun her into a big finish. "I think a concert like that calls for something special. Eye-scream? My treat?" he offered.

"Well," she said, considering, "I think I'd rather go where those people are going." She pointed to a small bar down the street with bright lights in the window advertising 'Schmutz Beer'.

He looked at her in surprise. "But you don't like beer."

"But it's a bar, Beej. They must have something I'd like." She put her arm through his and led him toward the bar. "I am older now, even though you keep trying not to notice. And I think it's time I had my first drink. My first adult beverage," she grinned at him.

Beetlejuice looked at her closely, then sighed and nodded. "Okay. But you let me order for us. And if you don't like it, we'll just leave, right?"

"Fine," she tugged him to walk faster. "I want something with a paper umbrella in it," she told him as they entered 'Jeers – The Place Where Everybody Goes to Maim'.

They entered, looked around and spotted a tiny table under the window and Beetlejuice escorted her there, waving at the bartender. "We need a short Cuba Libre – really weak – and a Nose Drool over here. Oh, and hey! Put a paper umbrella in the kid's . . . I mean, in the lady's drink."

"A Nose Drool?" Lydia tilted her head and looked at him with suspicion. "Please tell me that's not literal."

"It's green chartreuse with sugar syrup and little bell pepper bits." He squinted at her and said firmly, "You do not want a taste."

She nodded an emphatic agreement as the drinks were placed in front of them.

"You drink that slow, now," he instructed, pointing at her paper umbrella-embellished cocktail. "Taste just a little and see if you like it and then sip at it. Slowly."

She did take a tiny sip, then another, and then she smiled at him. "It's fine. It's . . . kind of, maybe, a little sweeter than I expected? What's the alcohol in here?" as she took another small sip.

"It's rum. I figured that would be the best thing to start on. Slow now," he warned her again. Then, he studied his own drink, frowning. "You are older now, not a kid any more. I know that. And you do look great. You're . . . well, you're beautiful." He pulled the paper umbrella out of her drink and turned it into a paper toad lily and handed it to her with a faint blush at his own mushiness. "It's just that . . . Hey, what're you looking at?!" He glared menacingly at the table next to theirs.

A frightened zombie rose quickly and exited without finishing his Corpse Reviver.

"So I guess I just have to have time to get used to you being . . . not a kid. An adult. It's not like I haven't been noticing your birthdays, you know. You tend to have one a year and – wait a minute. Are you old enough to drink?" He looked at her intently. "What would Chuckie say if he knew you were drinking booze?"

Lydia laughed at that. "You mean, if he knew I was having an alcoholic drink, with a ghost, in the Neitherworld? I don't think the booze would be the part he'd be most upset about. Besides, are you telling me you aren't taking good care of me?" She leaned forward, gazing at him limpidly.

Beetlejuice lowered his brows and frowned at that as he considered. "Hmm. Anyway, you're growing up so fast – you grew up so fast that I can't keep up. I know you're not a little kid now. Really, I do know that. But maybe it's easier for me to think of you that way. Because it was all so . . . simple, you know, when you were a kid." He threw up his hands in self-disgust. "Ah! I can't think of how to say it. I probably don't know what I mean myself." He looked at her helplessly. "Do you?"

"I think so." She took another careful sip of her drink while admiring her toad lily. "You were used to me being a kid and then I wasn't. I mean, I'm not. So you have to adjust a little . . . maybe realize I'm a bit different now?" She smiled at him, hoping that wasn't so subtle that he missed it. "But I'm still me, even though I am just about grown up. I thought maybe you'd like me being . . . mature, an adult, with an adult's viewpoints and perspectives and . . . wants and needs." She concentrated on the lily to give him a chance to arrange his features after he took in what she'd said. She was trying to be just overt enough to startle him into thinking about her in a new way, thinking about them in a new way. When she peeked at him, he seemed to be concentrating on his untouched Nose Drool.

"But you're only seventeen. That's still sort of . . . well, it's still pretty young." He suddenly pushed the slimy green liquid further away from him. "I guess it just throws me off a little when I think about how mature you've gotten all of a sudden. Least it seems all of a sudden. You have to give me time to get used to the grown-up you, the mature you. It sort of scares me, you know. I mean . . . what I mean is . . . not really scared, but . . ." He gave up on that and shrugged. "You're going so fast that pretty soon now you'll be older than I am," he said with a weak smile. "I'm trying, Lyds. Really, I am. Give me some time, huh?"

"I'll give you all the time –" she stopped herself from saying 'I will ever have' and substituted "you need. I am only seventeen. There's plenty of years left." She took a last sip of her drink and savored it for a moment. "This's pretty good, Beej. Thanks." She reached a hand out over the table and took one of his in it. "For the drink and for everything else. You can't stop me getting older, and nothing . . . nothing will stop me being your best friend. Forever."

Beetlejuice stared at their clasped hands and blinked, clearly trying to think. Then he managed another small smile. "I said I believe you, didn't I? I do. I'll try to . . . adjust and . . . realize and all. I will." He suddenly looked at her, clearly alarmed. "But does this mean I have to be mature, too? Lyds!"

That made her laugh and she gave his hand a squeeze. "Not if you don't want to. Actually," she paused to consider before saying, "There aren't very many changes I'd want you to make at all. Maybe just the one about seeing me as older now – old enough for some new and different experiences." She lifted her brows and gave him a hopeful smile.

"Okay. Then I will get used to grown-up you. As fast as I can. But," he grinned at her suddenly, "you're still not getting another drink tonight."

When she laughed at that, he stood and pulled her up with him. "We have enough time for a movie. If you want?"

"Let's," she pulled his arm through hers and leaned on it just a little.

Smiling down at her he grabbed up his Nose Drool and carried with them past the bar. Beckoning to the bartender, he said, "Hey, I got a little something for you," watching an appreciative smile dawn on the ghoul's face. Beetlejuice pushed across his untouched drink. "This is for you. On the house," he said.