Chapter 6
A/N: This chapter is not a particularly decisive one in the story per se, but some decent 'filler' content showing some of the impact of Chris' alternate decision in this story. Writing Lisa Doyle as a feature character instead of a secondary one has required getting to 'know' the character a little better, but I've managed well enough. I hope this chapter was worth the wait.
For any readers familiar with the 'canon' storyline I have where Mark Evans becomes an adopted sibling and fellow sociopath to Henry Evans- like phorosz, fear2breathe, and AM83220- this story may have some continuity errors with "The Good Sons" from time to time, as it has been years since I wrote the original story. If you find any such oversights, please let me know and I will do my best to get them corrected.
Chris stepped confidently out onto the interior pool deck at the Morgan house, taking in the vast expanse of the humid, warmly-lit room.
"Hey, fuckface!" Jason Morgan called from the water, his voice echoing some in the cavernous space. "Scared to go swimming like a man this time?"
Skinny-dipping had become a signature 'thing' that Chris did whenever he visited this room. He'd done it purely on impulse the first time, but the bold act had impressed two of the strongest, coolest, and most fit boys at Chamberlain High School- Jason Morgan and Tony Summers.
As with a lot of the boldest, coolest things Chris had gotten away with since showing up at Chamberlain, skinny-dipping at the Morgan pool was just expected of him now. He probably couldn't have changed his mind about it now even if he'd wanted to.
I don't want to. I've got looks I can be proud of, and I'm big enough to impress anybody. Fuck it. I'm skinny-dipping all I want.
Pulling down the red pair of trunks he had on, Chris kicked them aside with one foot and strode over to the pool, crouching down at the edge, elbows resting on his thighs.
"Sup, boys?"
"Sup, Inchworm," Jason answered as he swam over.
"I told you, man. I'm ready to measure anytime."
"Jeez!" Jason laughed. "Look. You know you wanna be me. You sure ask me enough questions about everything cool I ever do. Which is everything I ever do."
"Yeah," Chris answered, pointing. "Cause I wanna know how you ever got laid with a dick like that."
Jason's face went red as he began to sputter indignantly, but Tony, who had wordlessly joined them, lazing around at the pool's edge, exploded into laughter. Chris just grinned, not even moving as Jason swung at him from the water and missed.
"You fuckin' asshole," Jason managed finally.
"He's funny," Tony almost giggled. "Dude, dude. Come on. Be honest. Didn't I tell you he was funny?"
"Bro, he sticks his cock in a girl for the first time at seventeen and all of a sudden he thinks he's John fuckin' Wayne!"
"His first was a solid 10. And it took him like, no time at all to fuck her. My man Chris is smooth, dude."
"No, my man Chris, my dude. Anything he knows about being with a girl, he learned it from me."
"I think you're forgetting my body count. Tony Summers knows the ladies better than anyone."
"Girls, you're both beautiful," Chris interjected, easing himself into the water between them, throwing an arm around each boy's shoulders. Again he was astounded by how strong Jason and Tony were. These two were everything Chris wanted to be. The epitome of coolness, fitness, the model of what any guy ought to become.
"Get this faggot ginger off me," Jason groaned. "Kid's getting this idea that I like him."
"You do like him," Tony answered evenly. "We both do. He's cool, man."
"I hate him so much, bro. Shows up at my locker at school, now he's over at my house, following me around at the fuckin' gym-"
"I think I remember you inviting him to do all that shit, dude."
"Uh, no. You invited him. Then I didn't say no, which means I fucked up, so, get his little stick arm off me and kick him outta my house."
"But how else are all three of us gonna get into your dad's liquor cabinet behind the downstairs bar, and get fucked up tonight? After your parents go to bed?"
"Fuck." Jason sighed. "Chris, you're fucking gay. I hate you."
"I hate you, too, man." Chris answered with a smile.
ΩΩΩΩΩ
Hiding out downstairs, able to practically rule this basement wing of the house with an iron hand, Jason Morgan felt free. So long as he just didn't invite too many people over at once, or make too much noise, he could do what he wanted. Mom and Dad hadn't even figured out he'd been getting into the bar down here for years.
That his parents might have expected this, allowed it, and pretended to have no idea so that their son and his friends would drink here at home- a safer, more controlled environment- never once crossed Jason's mind. Convinced he was in charge of everything, Jason had put away quite a lot of vodka tonight, along with the usual shots of whiskey he'd insisted on sharing with his best friends.
When Chris Marshall had made that list, Jason didn't know. The new kid at school had shown up… when? September, maybe? Jason's head was swimming and he hadn't been paying attention.
Smacking Tony Summers on the shoulder while they lay around on some sofas near the bar, Jason decided to bring it up.
"Dude! Dude! Y-you know- when we found this faggot ginger at?"
"Right here, dude," Chris said nearby.
"Fuckin'-shhhhhuttup!" Jason slurred, trying to threaten him with his latest bottle of vodka. Jason swung, wanting to hit the stupid ginger in the face, but for some reason the bottle went nowhere near him. Jason turned his attention back, hitting Tony on the shoulder again. "Tony- dude-dude! Tony!"
"Yes?" Tony asked, taking a drink from the wine bottle he'd chosen to work on. A 1985 from Italy, some fancy vineyard or another.
"Dude! Where'd we fuckin' find this kid? He's so gay."
"You asked when we found him."
"Dude, fuckin'-fuckin' do what I tell you, man."
"Well, what do you want me to do?"
"Fuckin'- how'd he even get in this house, dude?"
"You asked if he wanted to go work out with the guys, and then asked if he wanted to hang out at your place."
"N-no," Jason responded, shaking his head half a dozen times. "No, dude, I never said that. I hate him. He's so gay, dude."
"I lost my virginity to Lisa Doyle, dude," Chris laughed, taking a swig of whiskey. Genuine Irish whiskey, which he'd been coughing all over the bar an hour ago.
"I- bro, tellmeagain, what was that like?"
Chris got this goofy grin on his face as he thought of it. "It was amazing. I felt like I was king of the fucking world."
"My first was like that," Tony added. "I was really scared I'd, like, be really lame, y'know, but I did pretty good. Jason did pretty good. He told me all about it."
"Dude- shut up! It's not true- I lasted more than ten seconds, alright?"
"Well, you were just in 8th grade, dude."
"Hey, I just realized," Jason said, "I think- yeah, we all fucked Lisa Doyle. All three of us."
"Who wouldn't want to?" Chris asked rhetorically.
"I-she's kinda like, this big slut, dude," Jason said. "She's fucked soooo many guys. Paul Hendricks, Mason Sarkozy, uh, me, Tony, I mean… yeah. She's kindofawhore."
Chris blushed furiously. "Don't you call her that, man."
Jason blinked. "But- she is."
"I said don't call her that!" Chris repeated, his voice rising.
"Oh, what're you gonna do-" Jason started to ask mockingly, but Tony cut him off. The slap was loud enough that Jason worried for a second that it'd been heard upstairs. Last thing any of them needed was to wake up Jason's parents.
"You fuckin' be cool, man," Tony said firmly. "You and me'd be sluts if we were girls."
Jason stared, unable to process the new information. Tony almost never got serious, never talked like this.
"Well… what- girls?"
"Yeah, man. Girls get called sluts if they fuck a lot of guys, but you and me, they say we're awesome 'cause we fucked a lot of girls. Makes no sense."
"Aw." Jason paused. "So- Lisa Doyle?"
"She's a 10," Tony answered. "You know she is."
"Yeah, she was pretty sweet," Jason conceded. "Chris- Chris- whyyou like hersomuch?"
"She's my girl," Chris answered, still regarding Jason warily.
"Yeah, but-but- you, like, really-"
Jason had been leaning forward as he talked, and Tony chose that moment to clap him on the back, winking at Chris as he did so.
"Whoops," Tony commented.
"Awfuck!" Jason exclaimed, falling over onto the thick carpet laid down on the hardwood floor. Still naked from the swim in the pool, Jason ended up with his ass to the fireplace, which actually felt great. It was kinda chilly down here.
"How drunk is he?" Chris asked. He stood, wobbled, fall back against the couch. "Oh, shiit, man. How drunk am I?"
"Tonnyyyyyyy," Jason called, struggling, barely making any progress as he tried to get up. "Get Chris here, dude. Dude, I'll kick his ass."
"Hey, man," Chris asked Tony. "You really a big fan of shaving it all down there?"
"Yeah," Tony answered, arms up on the back of the sofa. "You gotta understand, man, it's a cleaner look, anyway, and girls, they usually like it. And I know I like it better if they shave, you know what I mean?"
"Yeah, that's why I do it," Chris nodded.
"Guys," Jason called. "Tony! Tonyyyy!"
"What?"
"Bathroom!"
"What about it?"
"I gotta go!"
"Well, go."
"I can't get up!"
"Yeah, I saw."
"What happened to our fuckin' clothes?"
"We left 'em out by the pool. We always go skinny-dipping now."
"Yeah, we're too lazy to even put our clothes on," Chris laughed.
"I forgot," Jason admitted, then brightened as he thought of something. "Hey, you guys- I don't even need to pull my pants down. Cause I don't got any pants. I can just piss on the carpet."
"Dude, you better not," Tony cautioned. "Your parents'll kill us."
"Dude-dude! I'll go right here! I'm-I'll do whatever!"
"Jason, do you want us to- like- help you get to the bathroom?" Chris asked.
"Only- if you tell me- every-single detail- about losing- your fuckin' virginity," Jason said. He managed to sit up. "Okay. Deal?"
"You're the one needs help from us," Tony pointed out.
"Tony-Tony-do-don't talk-your Italian wordsatme," Jason sassed. "Now, Chris is a man now. So men tell things. Like, to other cool men. So I want- every detail."
"Only if we each tell," Tony countered. "Every detail. Like you said."
"Bro, I'm not- no!" Jason laughed. "How did that ginger get to our school, again?"
"I think he moved here."
"Maybe he got kicked out of his last school for being gay." Jason paused, then suddenly realized there was a problem. "Dude, I'm about to throw up. Help. Help."
"Fuck, man," Chris groaned, fighting to get to his feet.
"Okay, boys," Tony said, standing up, staggering over, hauling Jason up. Supported by Chris, who got Jason's left arm over his shoulders, Jason's oldest friend practically dragged Jason to the bathroom.
Jason threw up seconds after they got him in front of the toilet, and it took more than ten minutes for his stomach to stop heaving over and over. While Jason's body rejected what he'd been trying to do to it, Chris and Tony talked again.
"So, you having fun in high school yet?" Tony asked, looking over at the red-haired teen.
"Oh, yeah," Chris answered.
"I love you guys," Jason blurted, unable to stop it. Then he urinated on the tiled floor. "Oh, yeah. That feels better."
"Dude, stand up and use the toilet," Tony said in exasperation.
"I'll get some towels," Chris added, stumbling around until he found some hanging by the door. "Look. Towels!" he announced, like he'd just discovered fire.
ΩΩΩΩΩ
Monday. Almost a while week since Chris had seen the biggest social gamble of his life pay off better than he'd even dreamed.
Well, no, that was technically a lie. Chris had dreamed about having sex with Lisa Doyle practically from the first week of school. He'd seen her coming around a corner in the halls with her little entourage and just stood there, stunned. It had taken tremendous effort not to let his mouth hang open.
The real thing was even better than Chris had imagined. So much better.
Hopefully I'm getting some more today, Chris thought optimistically. He'd gone out with Lisa the whole afternoon yesterday, never once taking his sunglasses off, not with the clear skies out and the kind of hangover he'd been nursing. Having to behave for Lisa's parents was tough sometimes, given how much Lisa and Chris just wanted to do exactly what Lisa's dad suspected, but they got away from the house as usual.
And the back of the Camaro had plenty of room for an eager, happy teenage couple, just looking to enjoy each other. Tony had been coaching him lately on technique, making it romantic and intense at the same time. Chris couldn't pretend he didn't like Jason's emphasis on being showy and cool, just taking any and every chance, but the romantic, intimate feel Tony said to go for was fun. A lot of fun. And Lisa seemed responsive to it. She seemed to like the courtship Chris was pursuing, both the horny and the Red-Haired Romeo aspects of it.
If it works, then it works, Chris thought, taking his first shower of the day.
Bounding downstairs with his bag, fashionably close to late to pick up Lisa for the drive to school, Chris jerked to a stop suddenly. There was this bowl. On the little table with the stupid flowers.
Bowl's full of condoms. And pills.
Hearing his mother coming in from the backyard, Chris felt a surge of terror. He grabbed the bowl, hastily unzipped his bag, and dumped everything in.
"H-h-hey, M-Mom!" Chris called out with forced cheer, leaning on the mini-table with one hand to show just how perfectly normal everything was. With an empty bowl in one hand.
Aw, crap.
"Well, hello, Chris, who I just saw five minutes ago," Laura Marshall answered. She gave him a nod and a knowing smile. "Did you find anything useful in that empty bowl?"
"Wassabowl?" Chris asked immediately. His face felt like it was on fire.
"Ah, must be my imagination. Well, unless you were gonna be taking that thing you're holding to school, I can take it."
"Kay." Chris thrust the bowl at her like it was some strange, foreign object. Then he bolted for the door with his bag hanging open, throwing sealed condoms and packs of birth-control pills all over the floor.
OhmyGodnonononono. Chris closed his eyes and groaned. "Mom, I-"
"Hm? I think I need to check the bird feeders outside again. Have a nice, safe day at school. And a nice, safe date tonight."
"Mom?" Chris had to make himself say this.
"Yes, Chris?"
"Thanks."
"For what?" Laura Marshall asked.
"Uh… stuff."
"Sure thing, Chris."
Chris turned around, hastily grabbing the items and stuffing them back in his bag. He zipped it closed, looked back at his mother. "Look, I-I mean thank you."
Laura Marshall smiled at her son. "And I mean sure."
ΩΩΩΩΩ
Looking outside, Lisa felt her stomach do a happy little flip-flop when she spotted Chris Marshall's Camaro. She breezed through the motions of saying goodbye-for-now to her parents. She could see Dad still didn't approve of Chris- the Camaro out front was hard to miss- but he'd been grouching about her boyfriends for years. It really didn't bother her at all.
Especially since the red-haired, impressively-muscular boy was just some great entertainment. The sex was fun and getting better all the time, eager as Chris was for experience, and he was no doubt getting coached by his new buddies whenever just the guys were around.
Henry Evans was the only hunk around, though, the perfect, blond Romeo. Lisa's first time had been with a blond boy, just because she'd needed a stand-in for Henry, who had made love to so many girls over the years, earned such a reputation for being a romantic boy, a stallion in bed, but just never seemed to notice her.
This year would be Lisa's year. Soon enough. In the meantime, Chris was more than entertaining enough to keep Lisa sane and happy.
"Morning, babe," Chris called out as Lisa pulled open the door, threw her bag in the backseat, and dropped in. They kissed, and Lisa's stomach got butterflies, startling her. She was nervous about Chris! Just a little. Somehow. He made her nervous!
This means-I gotta investigate, Lisa thought, but moments later dismissed the thought. Maybe it didn't matter. Maybe Chris was just proof her choice of boyfriends was, once again, just perfect.
ΩΩΩΩΩ
Lunchtime. Chris knew he had to do what he was about to do.
Glad he'd worn the same gray, size-too-small designer t-shirt he'd worn the day he'd asked Lisa out, Chris stood and climbed atop the Kings' Table once enough kids had filtered in for this lunch period.
"What the fuck?" Mark Evans demanded, looking annoyed already, but Henry raised a hand, motioning for Mark to wait.
"This oughta be good," Henry commented.
"Hey! Look over here!" Chris shouted suddenly, hands raised. Heads turned, and the cafeteria quieted down. Faces looked to Chris expectantly, awaiting whatever he had to say.
"Oh, no," Jason groaned, suddenly realizing.
"My name is Chris Marshall," Chris called out, "and I am no longer a virgin!"
Tony whooped and stood, and a cheer went up from more than a few boys around. Chris bowed elegantly, turned, bowed again, thanking the boys cheering him on for their support. Encouraged by the example of the most popular boys, more joined in, and Chris saw quite a few girls looking, talking about him, some, he saw, with evident jealousy as Lisa Doyle laughed, applauded, and stood to take Chris' hand.
"Hey," Lisa called over the noise.
"What?" Chris asked.
"You're really funny."
"I know!"
"Did you plan this all out, or what?"
"Babe, I only plan things, like, half the time. I'm really just making it up."
"It's not bad," Henry commented. "But if you wanna sit down so my brother can eat, that'd be great."
"He means I'll kick you in the nuts if you don't," Mark added.
"Boys, boys," Chris laughed, hopping off the table and taking a seat beside Lisa, opposite the Evans brothers. "I didn't know my balls were so interesting to you."
Mark sighed. "Jason, will you get rid of this funny kid for me?"
"Yeah, I wanted to," Jason replied. "Tony said not yet."
"He said don't do it," Tony clarified.
"Well, that basically means 'not yet.'"
"Anyway, congratulations," Henry said, offering his hand. A little awed, Chris shook with Henry, thinking again how Henry seemed to be made of steel. His grip was firm, confident, and could probably have crushed Chris' hand if he'd wanted to.
"Yeah, thanks, man," Chris replied agreeably.
"Took you fucking long enough," Mark commented, but he was smiling. The two shook hands. "So, Lisa, how was he?"
"He was really good," Lisa answered. "Like, I- he was great. I don't know what, uh, took him so long."
"Yeah, what did take you so long?" Mason Sarkozy demanded with mock-sternness.
"Hey, man, there's enough of me to go around," Chris answered. "Just be cool. I'll take my shirt off for you later, and I'll explain why."
"What-hey-" Mason sputtered, starting to get angry, but the rest of the table exploded into laughter. Even Henry and Mark seemed to be getting a kick out of Chris' wit.
That's exactly what I'd hoped for, Chris thought proudly. Even these two like me. Damn, I'm off to a nice start. Senior year's gonna be all right.
ΩΩΩΩΩ
Sauntering through the halls after lunch, hanging close with the other boys of the inner circle that he had class with next, Chris jumped as a metallic bang sounded in the hallway. Henry Evans had just rammed his right shoulder into a freshman or sophomore boy as they passed, throwing him into a locker.
"Hey-" Chris started, wondering what this was about, but Tony abruptly motioned to him, shook his head.
"Let it go," Tony muttered.
"What's up, boys?" Henry called out to Jason, Tony, Chris and Paul as they passed. Mark nodded to them, passing by as well.
The boys answered with their own greetings. Chris, who had heard Henry and Mark could be kinda rough sometimes, listened to Tony and made like everything was cool, but he still wondered what that was about.
"Don't you fuckin' help him," Jason hissed as their group passed the younger boy, who was visibly shaking while he picked himself up and his friend gathered the book and notebook he'd dropped.
"What-what was that?" Chris asked in a low voice.
"Dude, losers are fuckin' losers," Jason told him. "Some kids are just fuckin' weak. You're not weak. So losers like him? They're not your problem."
"It's just how they are, man," Paul added. The strong, quiet boy with the sandy-blond hair shrugged his buff shoulders. "They just do that kinda stuff."
"You try and stop any of that, anything like that," Jason went on, "and you're going to war. And that, will be between your ass, and the Evans brothers', and not mine."
"Oh-okay," Chris sighed, feeling shaken. "I just wondered. Sorry."
"It's okay, man," Tony assured him.
"Yeah, we just- you get used to it," Paul added.
"Paul, dude, I think this is the most I've heard you say in years," Tony said in a light tone, one that sounded almost forced, like Tony wanted to quickly change the subject and welcomed an opportunity.
"I'm always here," Paul answered.
"Yeah, and you hardly say anything," Jason told him.
"Well, my Dad told me, better not say too much, or someday, somebody might gimme a new asshole." Paul paused, looked at Jason, eyebrows raised. "And look. I got me the new asshole anyways."
Chris and Tony exploded into laughter as Jason tried to angrily retort, and Paul offered a rare smile as Chris slapped palms with him in a high-five.
ΩΩΩΩΩ
Wednesday morning saw Chris bringing a white rose to Lisa's locker, bowing elegantly as he presented it to her. She smiled, looking warm and pleased at the gift- and then Chris suddenly staggered forward, bumped from behind.
"Watch where you're fucking going!" Lisa barked before Chris could even turn to see what had happened or who it was.
"S-s-sorry," a pretty younger girl said.
"Stephanie didn't mean it," her friend beside her promised.
"You push my boyfriend again, then you'll be sorry," Lisa shot back heatedly. "Fucking bitch- hey, hey, don't you leave! Did I say to walk away yet?"
"N-no," Stephanie answered carefully, stopping and moving over to the side of the hallway.
"Lisa-" Chris began, but Lisa put a finger to his lips without even turning her head.
"I better not have to set you two straight again," Lisa continued, "or you'll be sorry. I'm really creative. You want a rumor just about you? I'll make one up."
The two girls shook their heads, looking almost terrified now, fighting back tears.
"Babe, it's all right," Chris assured her, keeping his voice careful, controlled. "I promise. It was just an accident."
"I don't think I heard you two sluts apologize," Lisa pointed out dangerously, crossing her arms.
"S-sorry," the two girls chorused.
"Apology accepted. So, how's high school?" Chris asked, forcing a smile. "I mean, so far. You meet Henry Evans and Mark Evans yet?"
Stephanie's features lit up at the mention of Mark Evans. She blushed more than a little, too, and Chris realized somebody had a crush.
I just wish I had that physique, Chris thought enviously. When did they start working out, anyway? Age six?
"It's- good," Stephanie managed.
"Yeah, I like it here," Stephanie's friend added.
"Well, I'm Chris Marshall, but I'm also taken," Chris continued smoothly. "Otherwise-"
The warning bell sounded. First classes of the day would be starting in another five minutes.
"Go," Lisa told the younger girls. "Be glad I'm having a good day."
After the girls continued on their way, Lisa sighed, looking frustrated. "Chrissie?"
"Liz?" Chris sassed back.
"Underclassmen girls are stupid. You don't have to be nice to them."
"I'm nice to everybody."
"They're all trying to be me and they all wanna fuck Henry and Mark Evans," Lisa said, sounding not just annoyed, but somehow envious. "They also think you have a really huge cock."
"What?"
"Babe, you need to pay attention. Half the school thinks you're just being modest; they don't believe your first time was last week. They think we're going out 'cause you're, like, really hung."
Chris felt his face heating. "Hey, babe-"
"Just let me handle them. Underclassmen girls are literally so, so stupid. They don't know anything, you don't need to talk to them."
"Alright, babe; forget I said anything," Chris said agreeably. He kissed her gently. "You're so serious when you get mad."
"My parents want you over for dinner tonight," Lisa announced.
Chris jumped as if struck by a pin. "What? Why?"
"If you'd let me get rid of those little girls, I'd already have told you!" Lisa complained. "Babe, Mom and Dad just want to meet you. Like actually, talk to you more and stuff, that kind of meet you. So, Mom said to bring you over for dinner tonight."
"Uh- well- you wanna meet my Mom after school?" Chris asked hurriedly. "W-we can get by the house before she gets off work."
"Does your mom know how much we fuck?" Lisa asked, laughing a little.
"I think she figured it out," Chris muttered, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck.
"You're just really muscular and horny and that's like, your whole personality," Lisa went on. "I like it."
"Well, good," Chris sighed. "So- now we gotta met all our parents today. Great. I better put on a suit or something."
"You better not be a total dork and start reciting Lord Byrond,"
"Lord Byron, babe."
Lisa reached up, ruffled Chris' hair. He fussed and tried to set it back, but she just messed it up again, enjoying herself thoroughly.
"See you at lunch," Chris said finally, kissing Lisa one more time.
"See you, Chrissie," Lisa answered, ruffling his hair one more time. She had to know it was driving him crazy, and maybe that was the point.
ΩΩΩΩΩ
Slinging his backpack onto his shoulder, Chris stepped out into the hallway, argued good-naturedly about the New York Giants versus the Steelers with Mason Sarkozy for a few minutes, then broke off toward one of the bathrooms.
Chris had already unzipped at one of the urinals when somebody shoved him from behind, making him rebound off the white porcelain, striking his face against the wall tiles above it, then the back of his head on the floor.
"What the fuck!" Chris exclaimed, as much from pain as from anger.
That was when Chris realized that two massive, towering boys were standing over him, one auburn-haired, one blond. He also realized his penis was sticking out of his pants, and he'd managed to urinate on himself.
"You got a plan to dress up for Friday?" Henry Evans asked casually.
"Yes," Chris answered, battling down both rage and fear. "Of course."
"What's that?"
"Uh- maybe I'll-be, like, a zombie-"
"I think you'd better dress up for one of your basketball games," Henry countered. "You know how Lisa's into that."
"So fuckin' into it," Mark laughed.
"Guys- what-"
"Christopher, don't act so fuckin' confused," Henry admonished him. "You've been blowing off our parties since you finally popped your cherry. Did you really think no one would notice?"
"If he thought that he's wrong," Mark commented. "Everyone's noticed."
"Even those fags on the soccer team," Henry huffed. "Look, Chris, while you're down there with your dick stickin' outta your pants, ask yourself. Do you wanna get kicked the fuck outta our table and start your social life all over again?"
"No!" Chris exclaimed, tucking himself back in, zipping back up, getting to his feet. "Guys, I promise, I'm just trying to- I wanna be romantic. I had this reservation for this weekend at-"
"We know where you two like to go," Mark said. "We also know your status around here rides on being connected with us. And here you are, acting too good for us. You'll go get drunk with Tony and Jason, but don't join 'em when they wanna get fucked up together at a party we arrange."
"You're not even being a good friend to them, and you're just fucking insulting us," Henry added. "You're fucking warned. Stop ignoring us and our parties."
"I'm sorry," Chris forced himself to say, though in reality he couldn't believe anyone was telling him what he could and couldn't do with his time, and especially his girl.
"You're bringing Lisa to the Halloween party this weekend, yeah?" Mark demanded.
"You should really be hosting it at your house," Henry went on. "But, you're fucking poor next to us, so, place you live in's too small." He shrugged. "We knew that, too."
"I'm not poor," Chris said, and took another shove for his trouble. He crashed into the urinal behind him, barely stayed on his feet.
"You are if we say you are," Mark told him. "Now are you going to do what we said on Friday and Saturday or not?"
"Yes," Chris forced out. "Yes, I'll do it. Anything you want."
"You're lucky Tony and Jason spoke for you," Henry said. "John LaFleur's doing this one himself- he's got some shit to make up for, too, if you didn't notice."
"What-"
Henry laughed. "You really need to pay attention more, dude. John's not the pampered little prince he thought he was, and neither are you."
"You better not just blow us off again, though," Mark warned. "We gave you a seat at our table, made you a big deal."
"We can take it away, too," Henry finished. "Understand?"
"Yes," Chris nodded, wiping clammy hands on his pants. "I got it, guys." He paused. "What'd John do? What's been with him lately?"
That got him a hard shove back against the urinal.
"Do you always ask so many fucking questions?" Mark demanded.
"No- I don't need to know," Chris blurted hurriedly. "I-It's fine. I don't need to know."
"Thanks," Henry said, smiling beatifically. "I'm glad we had this talk, dude."
ΩΩΩΩΩ
"Great to finally meet you, Mrs. Marshall," Lisa said cheerfully, waving as she and Chris headed for the door. She always knew how to say those kind of things, but found this time was one of the few where she meant it.
Laura Marshall actually was pleasant to meet, one of the rare "cool parents" out there. No way she hadn't figured out that Lisa was having sex with Chris just about any second the mood hit either of them, but unlike some, like her dorky, lame-ass Dad, Mrs. Marshall was realistic enough to just let it be.
"Likewise, dear," Mrs. Marshall answered agreeably. "Say hi to your folks for me."
"I will!" Lisa promised.
"And Chris, you be back when we agreed, understood?"
"Yes, Mom," Chris agreed as Lisa tugged at his hand.
"Well, that wasn't that bad," Lisa sighed as they headed back to her Suburban at the curb. "You wanna drive?"
"Uh- sure."
"You're not nervous about dinner with my parents, are you?"
"N-no," Chris said, not sounding like he really believed it.
"You're nervous," Lisa pronounced as they got in and Chris started the massive SUV, pulling away from the curb and making it halfway down the block before remembering his seatbelt.
"Yeah, kinda," Chris admitted.
"Well, Mom and Dad are still out buying groceries," Lisa said, holding up her phone. "So…"
"So…?"
Lisa laughed. "Just enjoy the first part."
"Huh?"
"You get head to help you calm down about my Dad."
"Ah." Chris smiled behind his sunglasses. "Just what I wanted, babe."
ΩΩΩΩΩ
The loaned suit Chris had gotten from Jason came on right after the fun in the shower ended. Lisa helped him style his hair, spot imperfections anywhere from head to toe. Chris found himself feeling affection that was entirely beside the physical attraction, wondering how Henry, Mark, Mason, Tony, Jason and others could've passed up a more serious shot with Lisa Doyle.
Their loss, Chris mentally shrugged, straightening his garnet-red silk necktie in the mirror.
"You should've gone for just plain red," Lisa commented, brushing her hair, sitting primly on the closed toilet nearby. "Dad loves power ties."
"Does he actually?" Chris asked.
"He's never said he doesn't."
"So how many cars do your parents own?" Chris asked. She'd shown him around the Doyle property, having fun giving him a tour, before they'd gone upstairs to her room.
"The two-door in the garage is my Mom's," Lisa answered. "My Dad's got the Mercedes and the little boxy one, but he hardly ever drives it."
"They like Cadillacs and stuff, huh?" Chris asked, wanting to sound casual, painfully aware neither he nor his parents could have a house this size, or three luxury cars that were little more than ten years old, along with a new-model Suburban for their only child.
"Yeah, my Mom says it's, like, important to look good for everyone. She knows all kinds of people. I think my Dad basically agrees with her."
"Isn't that a Cimarron out there? In the garage?"
"A what?" Lisa asked, frowning slightly.
"Uh, it's like this really basic car they made in the Eighties. Like a Chevy Cavalier but fancier."
"Oh. Is that what that one's called?" Lisa wondered, shrugging. "He hardly ever drives it, but he takes really good care of it. I don't really remember. Maybe it's important to him."
Then it's a good thing I know to ask, Chris thought, feeling more confident. Bonding with Mr. Doyle over a good talk about cars would be perfect. Maybe that'd help convince him bring the temperature in the room up a bit whenever Chris was around.
ΩΩΩΩΩ
Mr. Doyle wore an expensive polo tucked into equally-finely-made khakis, Mrs. Doyle, having come from some kind of big society meeting or another, still wore a suit of all-white, and Lisa had one of her favorite Fifth Avenue Design sweaters, and khakis that hugged everything just right. It was difficult to avoid staring.
And then you had the young, red-haired Romeo, sitting there in his suit, feeling like he was getting strangled the slow way by his own necktie, shifting uncomfortably in his high-backed chair under Mr. Doyle's gaze. They'd made some friendly chit-chat, and the food, from the rotisserie chicken to the mashed potatoes and green beans, was excellent.
Only when he'd asked did Chris learn Mrs. Doyle only cooked when she felt like it; she had spared extra time gathering ingredients for the "special occasion" tonight, the first formal dinner visit by Lisa's new boyfriend.
Thinking back to his discovery of that golden opportunity to break the ice, Chris decided to go for it when there was another lull in conversation.
"So, Mr. Doyle, I'm into cars, too," Chris said, trying to get on the same wavelength. Only after he said it did he realize the 38-year-old might not be "into" things the same way a 17-year-old was.
"I appreciate some things about good cars," Mr. Doyle allowed. "I suppose Lisa showed you around the house, correct?"
"Yessir," Chris nodded eagerly, and then completely tripped himself midsentence. "I really like the Cavalier you have- Cimarron!"
Mrs. Doyle suddenly gave a most unladylike snort, quickly grabbing a white cloth napkin and mopping the milk from her glass off her face. Chris couldn't say for sure, since he was trying to backpedal, but it sounded like she was trying not to laugh.
The look on Mr. Doyle's face could have melted steel.
"It's an '87," he acknowledged.
"Uh- s-s-so that's a Cadillac, right? From the Eighties?"
"Yes, that's what an '87 Cadillac would be," Mr. Doyle deadpanned. "I don't know how you mixed it up with a Chevrolet."
"Andy," Mrs. Doyle said, her voice shaking with suppressed laughter, "I think he means he likes your good taste in cars. Entirely complimentary, dear."
"Yeah," Chris nodded, eagerly taking the chance to move around or past the conversational landmine he'd discovered. "I'm, like, really into cars. And stuff. Especially American cars."
Oh, wow, you said "into" again. Well done.
"I'm glad," Mr. Doyle said shortly.
"Do you like Camaros?" Chris asked, perking up instinctively; his car was a natural favorite of his.
"I prefer cars that are a little more subtle," Mr. Doyle returned. "Cars that aren't just about one thing."
Doggedly trying to get a win out of this, some progress in the right direction, Chris decided to shift to complimenting the food, an easy thing to praise given that it was all just about perfect.
"The sex is great tonight, Mrs. Doyle!" Chris said brightly.
That got everyone's attention.
Chris blushed furiously and dropped his fork as Lisa snorted just like her mother, tried to swallow, coughed and got droplets of milk all over her plate and silverware. Mrs. Doyle uttered a surprised shriek of laughter, clapping a hand over her mouth as she fought for composure.
Mr. Doyle, meanwhile, looked almost amused now, but not in a sharing-a-joke way. This felt like he was enjoying the awkwardness at Chris' expense.
"Christopher, what did you mean to say?"
"The f-f-food," Chris laughed nervously, forcing a smile. "I-meant the food. It's great. Tonight. Here."
"Oh?" Mr. Doyle asked casually. "I thought I heard you say something else."
"N-no, no," Chris laughed. "I m-meant food."
"Must have been my imagination," Mr. Doyle decided, looking and sounding for all the world like a cat that could eat the canary at any moment, and was simply taking its time. "I must have misheard."
"Uh- yeah, but-I really do like the food. Uh, Mrs. Doyle. Lisa told me you're really good."
"Thank you, I appreciate that," Mrs. Doyle answered warmly, seeming to sympathize with Chris and his little predicament. "So, I recall you'd said your mother does some cooking. Do you think she'd like a copy of the family cookbook sometime? I revised it for the Casco Club just last year."
"Mom basically runs this country club right outside town," Lisa commented.
"I wouldn't say that, dear. There's other influential women there besides me."
Things more or less returned to normal from there, though Chris felt Mr. Doyle's eyes on him more than once all through to dessert. He kept wondering how he'd tripped so badly not once, but twice in one conversation, but then he'd never had a girlfriend's dad disapprove of him this much.
ΩΩΩΩΩ
After Chris had helped clean up and get everything in the dishwasher, exchanged the brief goodnight kiss with Lisa that was allowed under direct scrutiny by Mr. Doyle, and was headed out the door, Mrs. Doyle asked him to wait, joining him on the front steps while Lisa headed upstairs and her husband withdrew to his study down the hall and to the left.
"Chris, I think you should know Lisa thinks you're a handsome gentleman, and I agree with her assessment."
"Thank you, Mrs. Doyle," Chris said, knowing he had to look as relieved as he felt. "I'm sorry about- earlier. I didn't know Mr. Doyle didn't like talking about the Cimarron and- and- yeah."
"Andy's usually more thorough when he buys something," Mrs. Doyle sighed. "I think he bought into the advertising and thought Cadillac had served up something sportier. He doesn't want to admit he overpaid for a Cavalier. Just what that car is. So he has it maintained at the dealership and mostly leaves it alone. People still laugh at that car sometimes. Unfair of them. It's not that bad a car, Chris. They just rushed it onto the sales lots."
"Oh, I didn't mean it was bad," Chris added hastily.
"I know, and believe it or not, Andy knows that, too." Mrs. Doyle sighed again. "He just can't seem to acknowledge he made a mistake, and the same goes for things with Lisa. Lisa's grown up, and she might choose to do things that girls and boys may want to do at your age."
"Uh-"
"I've known Lisa was growing up for a while now," Mrs. Doyle continued, as if Chris wasn't actively fighting not to lose all his composure, desperately trying not to come off as awkward. Or, even in front of a girlfriend's mom, uncool.
"Yeah."
"Well, she has a right to choose for herself, and that's her business," Mrs. Doyle pronounced. "Just don't create any incidents at school. It was bad enough when she ended up in the office with that Summers boy."
Oh, Tony, of course you guys got caught, Chris thought with amusement, unable to keep from laughing. I bet that story's gonna be a good one.
"I-uh-we keep stuff very private, Mrs. Doyle," Chris assured her, minding his words carefully after stumbling onto no fewer than two landmines earlier.
"I've thought so," Mrs. Doyle said approvingly. "Just keep it that way. If you two want to go upstairs while I'm around the house, just keep it quiet, is all I ask. Let me handle things with Andy. He's not as bad as he wants Lisa's boyfriends to think."
Chris smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Mrs. Doyle."
"You're certainly welcome, Chris."
ΩΩΩΩΩ
Laura Marshall was still up when Chris got back, reading through the National Geographic from earlier this year. Chris recognized the cover when she casually flipped it closed as he came in, closing the front door firmly while the storm door closed on its own.
"That's that one about the guy who found another ship, right?" Chris asked, pointing at it.
"Robert Ballard found the Titanic, and this year he found the USS Yorktown," Mom agreed.
"I think that's pretty cool," Chris nodded. "He sounds like a cool guy, from, like, what it says about him and stuff."
"I agree," Mom smiled, no doubt well aware of what a big compliment a teenager calling someone- especially someone older- "cool" was, what high praise that was meant to be. "Don't let me hold you up, honey. I assume dinner over there went well?"
"Yeah, it-" Chris broke off, rubbing self-consciously at the back of his neck. "Well, it mostly went well."
"Oh?"
"I kinda-uh-asked Mr. Doyle about his car."
"And that was a problem?"
"Well- one of his cars- uh… he's got a Cimarron."
Mom didn't just laugh; she almost cackled.
"Oh, so you brought up a sore point, huh?"
"Yeah. He wasn't happy with me."
"Well, he might warm up to you, sweetie. You're a good guy. Give it some time."
"Mom, I didn't insult his car. I just mentioned it."
"That's all?"
"And, uh, and I called it a Cavalier at first."
"Ah, see, that may have been the bigger problem, honey."
"I didn't even do anything!" Chris exclaimed. "He's always- he keeps looking at me like I did something!"
"Well, you called his rebadged Cavalier a rebadged Cavalier."
"Exactly!" Chris threw up his hands, feeling validated, then paused. "Huh?"
Laura Marshall was grinning. "I think you may have met a man who knows the salesman got a better deal than he did, Chris."
"Yeah, so-" Chris shrugged. "Lisa's mom likes me though."
"I met her at the first PTA meeting this year, before you and Lisa went out. She thinks you're a gentleman. A handsome gentleman."
"Mom," Chris fussed, pleased but embarrassed.
"Was that all, honey? You know you can always talk to me."
Chris crossed the living room, made himself sit down before he could back out of it. "Uh… well… I do need to say one other thing."
"Okay."
"Mom, I-I kinda didn't say just what happened," Chris began carefully. "When me and Lisa skipped school last week? And- did- stuff?"
"All right," Mom replied, nodding. "So, what'd you leave out?"
"Mom, Lisa- Lisa kind of just surprised me. I mean, we were gonna drive to school, and then we're not going to school, and then I'm up at Sebago Lake with her." He paused. "You- you see what I mean?"
"This took you by surprise."
"Yeah." Chris paused. "So, uh… Mom, I didn't wear a condom. At all. That day."
"I asked if you were being safe, Chris," Mom reminded him.
"Yeah." Chris said again. "Mom, I- I had to say something quick. That was a big deal. It's a big deal. I didn't know what to say."
"I think the truth is always a good place to start."
"Well- well, Mom, Lisa's, like, she's smart. So- I know she's, y'know, like on the pill and stuff. I was careful, too."
"I believe you, but you still didn't tell me what actually happened when I asked."
Chris sighed, looking away. "All right. How long am I grounded?" He dug for the Camaro's keys.
"Chris, you really need to check with me before you assume what I'm going to do," Mom replied, a hint of laughter in her voice.
"Oh." Chris suddenly felt relieved. He wasn't used to lying to his parents, hadn't been feeling proud of having done so this time. "So, am I good, then?"
"I didn't say that, either."
"But-Mom!"
"I'll let you make up something to tell your friends, but you don't get to use your cell phone again until mid-November."
"You're taking my phone for two weeks?" Chris asked, getting wound up, ready to protest. "Mom, I need my phone!"
"Your social life will go on, and payphones and landlines still exist," Mom commented.
"So you're not giving me my phone back until mid-November?" Chris asked, trying to at least clarify what he was facing.
"Two weeks is generous," Mom went on, "I can't just pretend that you didn't lie to me, about something important. I know you're growing up, Chris, but if I ask if you and Lisa are being safe, then I need to know you'll tell me the truth."
"Okay," Chris sighed. "So I get to keep my keys?"
"Unless there's something else you need to tell me."
Chris shook his head. "I'm sorry I lied to you," he made himself say, looking at the living room carpet. "Like, I'm really sorry. And stuff." He paused. "I didn't lie about anything else. I promise, Mom."
"Thank you for telling me, Chris. I understand this isn't something a boy your age is going to talk about casually with his mother."
"Yeah. Yes, Mom."
"Tell me, though; are your new friends at school being good friends? Do they treat you right?"
"Yeah, Mom. Jason's really cool. And Tony. They know, like, all kinds of stuff about the gym."
"And girls, I suspect."
"Well, yeah, Mom, they're cool guys, so, y'know, girls like them."
"You like them," Mom said, raising her eyebrows suggestively.
"Mom! Not like that!" Chris protested, laughing despite himself, unable to even pretend to be mad with how much fun his mother was clearly having at his expense.
Heading upstairs, Chris finally got to pull the suit off and take a shower. Wrapped in towels after, enjoying the steamy air in the bathroom, Chris realized he hadn't been asked to turn in his phone yet.
Quickly digging it out, Chris slowly typed out a message, wishing somebody'd make a cell phone that had one letter to each key or something.
Hey babe :)
Hey :)
Moms taking my phone tomorrow for 2 weeks
Lame
Yeah
Y?
I told her I wore a condom last week
She asks about that?
She just cares about me, Chris typed, feeling oddly defensive. She leaves me alone mostly.
Yeah she seems kinda cool, Lisa replied. But her sons such a dork.
Chris laughed. He hung up the towels, put on his bathrobe. Lying on his back in his bed, Chris stayed up a little longer, sending Lisa more text messages, each one worth the time it took to send them and then some. Lisa wasn't surprised Chris had been 'asked' to reconsider about Halloween's party, and agreed to go with him. She wrote a simple YES when Chris added he'd decided to dress like he was at a basketball game. She really loved him, basketball, and no shirt. Whatever it was, the three together seemed to drive her wild.
As long as something I do matters that much to a girl like her, Chris thought, I don't care why she likes it. Matter of fact- I don't care why she likes me. So long as she likes me.
A/N: Completed 9 January 2025, first uploaded 20 January 2025.
1 year and 10 months after Chapter 5 was originally uploaded, I managed to write and complete Chapter 6! I'm exceptionally busy these days, and a lot has been happening in my life outside of FFN (my standardized abbreviation for this website).
That said, I love writing, and I love the practically-endless range of possibilities that come with being an author on here. I love the supportiveness of so many other readers and authors. Reviews are rare, but feedback tends to be constructive and friendly when it does come.
AM83220 has been a steady supporter of this story and my work on "The Good Son" in general, a rather obscure film but one we have both always appreciated and found interesting, alongside the novelization by Todd Strasser. I would like to specifically thank him for his past reviews and continued support for this work.