Chapter 7


Chris stood up out of the Camaro's bucket seat, feeling the bite of the cold even through an overcoat and a sweater. He'd been all over the East Coast, following Dad's home ports as a merchant sailor, and Maine was definitely the coldest.

It was pretty, though, and had its perks. Chris thought about that as he went around to the passenger side, opened the door for his girlfriend, and she stood and took his hand.

All the same, Chris felt incredibly grateful to make it all the way from the seniors' parking lot to the cafeteria, or The Commons as you'd often hear it called.

"Brr," Chris said with a laugh, unzipping his jacket.

"Yeah," Lisa laughed. "Even growing up here, it's still fucking cold out."

"I'm about to warm it up," Chris decided, setting the jacket on a nearby table and going for his sweater. Before Lisa could even finish asking what he meant, Chris pulled the sweater over his head, then went for the track pants he'd worn over his red mesh basketball shorts.

"So that's why you were wearing those," Lisa breathed, staring at him.

"Yeah, I don't usually do track pants," Chris shrugged. He motioned at his bare chest. "Warmer now?"

"Warmer, yeah," Lisa nodded.

"Hey, he's finally here!" Tony Summers called out, sauntering into view with Jason and Paul side-by-side with him. Each boy was clad only in a pair of red mesh shorts, and Chris felt a surge of pride at how well his physique compared to theirs. He fit the look of these supremely-confident, gym-going boys, and they saw him as one of their own.

"What's up, boys?" Chris called, slapping palms with each of them.

"You're lucky Tony talked me into going along with this," Jason said with a grin.

"I think you were pretty on-board with it yourself when Chris called, dude."

"Did Chris get all you guys to dress up like this?" Lisa asked.

"I just heard and went for it," Paul said.

"'Fuck yes,'" Chris said with a laugh. "That's what Jason told me when I told 'im my idea for Halloween dressup."

"Boys, we look so good, it's gonna be worth having Decauter get after us about the dress code," Tony boasted.

"Definitely, dude," Chris agreed cheerfully. "So, you wanna go by his office now?"

"Just get it over with," Paul said with a laugh, shaking his head.

"Yeah, man, exactly."

"Lemme get my Polaroid," Lisa said, going for her backpack. "You guys, group photo by the table. Then Chris."

"Lucky man," Tony told Chris proudly. "Come on, boys. Let's go!"

Centered in the group of grinning, muscular boys, Chris found his own grin to be effortless as Lisa took her photos of the group. He had one arm on Jason's shoulder, one on Tony's, and Paul beside Tony on the right, each of them a stranger to social worries, anxieties, or fear.

No. These guys owned this place. This was high school, their time. Chris had never been enjoying his life so much.

ΩΩΩΩΩ

Henry and Mark were the stunning center attention when they arrived at school, scantily but elegantly clad as Apollo and Ares. They were practically marble Roman statues anyway, so the look suited them well.

Lisa stared at them, but at a certain distance, not wanting to seem desperate, or too eager to dump the hot new kid with the flaming red hair. Always, always she had to think of appearances, think of her status. The gift and curse of being at the top of the pecking order among Chamberlain High School's girls.

Thing was, Henry was distracting.

Real distracting.

That much sculpted muscle, decking out a frame that tall, with a smile that radiant… you had to either gape or look away at some point.

Thing was, Lisa was still thinking about all that as she stopped by her locker. She tried to focus more on the fun so far. She'd given Chris some very satisfactory head in one of the lesser-used, more remote bathrooms after last period, and after neatly brushing her teeth, she'd headed back out into the halls with a happy boyfriend and nobody else the wiser.

The boys in the red shorts hadn't even been called to Principal Decauter's office the way Tony Summers had predicted. Maybe it was the fact that they would've had to call up Henry and Mark Evans, too, and those two rarely got disciplined or told 'no' on anything.

Maybe it was just that the adults running this place had gotten used to it, resigned themselves to the best-looking, best-endowed boys getting to be showy and arrogant, and sometimes doing pretty showy, arrogant things.

Lisa was just reaching to close her locker, having swapped out the notebooks and textbooks she needed to, when a pale, strong hand easily pushed the locker shut for her.

Following the hand, to the powerful arm, to the broad shoulder it connected to, Lisa suddenly realized Henry Evans was, at most, twelve inches away. Very little of him was left to the imagination.

"Hey, Liz," Henry greeted her, smiling warmly.

"Hey," Lisa said breathlessly. "Hey, Henry."

"How's it going?"

"Going?" Lisa asked, like she had never heard of such a thing. "Go-good, going good. Yeah."

"Oh, great," Henry said. "Like my costume? My mom thought it shows a little too much, but I think you really need to commit to it if you wanna dress up like Apollo."

"Yep-good costume," Lisa managed. "Really good."

"Thanks," Henry said. "Mark and I thought about it, but we wanted to go with something bold, you know?"

"It's bold," Lisa heard herself say.

"Yeah," Henry laughed. "I think so, too. As long as Decauter's okay with it, I guess Chris and the guys are okay, too, right?"

"Right."

Henry's eyes flashed up and down for a moment, looking Lisa over. She almost wished she'd thought to go for a red two-piece bikini, something like that. Maybe showing off like Chris and his friends were doing would have given Henry the incentive he needed to wise up and realize who the perfect girl in his life really was.

Brittany Jorgensen and Lisa had been friends for just about forever, but…

If he asks me out right now, I swear, I'll do anything he wants.

"Did you see Brit anywhere?" Henry asked finally, like his mind hadn't just been anywhere else. "I gotta see if my girl needs anything."

"She's about to get outta class," Lisa answered. She'd skipped out a little early, using the old bathroom excuse. Nicole would get her bag for her- easy.

"Oh, cool," Henry nodded as the bell rang. "Yeah, there she is- Brit! Hey, babe!"

Damn, Lisa thought, watching Henry go. Sometime. Sometime this year.

ΩΩΩΩΩ

Two hours after school had ended, Chris was lounging around restlessly in Jason Morgan's room, waiting for Mom to get home. He'd tried calling already, and so far, no luck.

"Man, I hope your mom isn't fucking lame about this," Jason grouched yet again.

"I told you, she's not- she isn't fucking lame," Chris insisted. "She lets me do stuff. She's cool."

"Except she didn't say you could stay over," Jason continued. "We're basically already adults, man. She needs to just let you get fucking drunk and get laid and whatever."

Chris thought about telling Jason he actually wasn't looking to get that drunk this time, finding some private time with Lisa was his biggest priority. He didn't like being ordered into changing his plans.

Henry and Mark Evans were really cool guys, but something about that didn't sit right with Chris. They were cool, and yet they'd made him do this.

The whole thing was probably just them defending their reputation, though. That counter-idea had occurred to Chris as well. They had to maintain a certain look as the coolest guys around, and that meant you sometimes had to play a part, get a message across.

It felt better thinking of it that way.

The phone rang, and Chris snatched it up from the bean-bag chair he was in. "Yes? Uh, hello?"

"Chris, hi."

"Hey, Mom."

"Now, honesty check again. You wanna go to a party with some friends of yours from school, right?"

"W-well, yeah-"

"So there may or may not be alcohol somebody got a hold of, correct?"

"Uh- there might, yeah."

"And Lisa will be there?"

"Yes, Mom, I'm going to go pick her up after- after this."

"Okay. Well, honey, I need you to promise me to be careful. These kinds of parties can be fun, but somebody could get hurt if things get out of hand."

"Things won't get out of hand, Mom. It's gonna be totally safe."

"You're going to be careful, all right? I'd rather have you tell me and go than go sneaking around, but I need you to be safe."

"I'll be safe, Mom. I'll be careful."

"Please do that, honey. It's different when you're a parent and not the high schooler anymore."

"Mom," Chris fussed, touched and embarrassed at the same time.

"Alright, let me talk to your best friends now."

Chris held the phone out, and Jason stared at it like it was some strange foreign object.

"What the fuck do you want me to do with that?"

"My Mom wants to talk to you guys," Chris said as neutrally as possible.

"So make me give a fu-"

Tony kicked Jason from his own bean-bag chair.

"Ow!"

"Talk to his mom, Jason." Tony was matter-of-fact about it, but unmistakably firm.

Though he made a show of huffing and rolling his eyes, Jason got up and stood by the phone's cradle on his desk.

"Yes? Hey, Mrs. Marshall. Yes, we're gonna be safe, we've gone to these before. Tony and I have. Mrs. Marshall- yes. Yes, ma'am. Yes. I apologize about the swearing. Okay. Tony?"

Tony got up, took the phone. "Yes, Mrs. Marshall, I'll make sure he doesn't get too drunk tonight. He really just wants to be alone with his girlfriend anyway. Yeah. I think that's safer, don't you? If he drinks too much, I'll just walk him up and down the stairs myself. We have a good system for the guys to take care of each other, ma'am. Promise." He smiled. "Okay, Mrs. Marshall. Thanks."

Chris turned up his palms as Tony hung up, wordlessly asking a question.

"Your mom's not as lame as you think she is," Tony commented. "She worries about you but she's not lame."

"What?!" Chris exclaimed indignantly. "Hey, I never said-"

"Yeah, man, listen, she was 17 once, too."

"The fuck- she doesn't let me just say stuff like that! I had to spend an hour yesterday talking her into even considering letting me go to this!"

"Either you've got it or you haven't, just a people-skills thing," Tony said with a shrug. "I'm good. I'm convincing."

"Don't worry about it, man," Jason sympathetically added, looking over at Chris. "He's been smooth-talking people his whole life. He was like that before he discovered girls, trust me. And after. He's- he's just the worst, dude."

"Like I said," Tony repeated with a grin, "Either you've got it or you haven't."

ΩΩΩΩΩ

Chris had been to parties in high school before. Smaller ones, mostly, him and some friends here and there. Always he ended up missing out on the really cool ones, though, and never had he been to anything like the ones that Henry and Mark Evans could put together.

Through the weight of Henry and Mark's authority at school, the social elite at Chamberlain were always moving mountains and finding every connection, every resource that existed. Somebody could always get their older brother in college, their sister, their cousin who'd just turned 21, to make some purchases for them.

Even though he'd arrived feeling a little disgruntled, wishing for the private evening he'd originally planned for himself and Lisa, Chris couldn't help but be impressed. The expansive LaFleur house was packed with just about everybody who was anybody at Chamberlain High, with a few guests from places like the Waynflete School.

Chris knew he needed to make some stops, say hello even to strangers. You never knew who else was a big deal, who it might pay to be on good terms with.

"This party's really something, isn't it?" A boy in a subtle but superbly-made sweater asked as Chris approached with Tony and Jason, Lisa on his arm.

"Yeah, sure is," Chris said. It was the truth. Whatever he thought of every aspect of the Evans brothers' personalities, they knew style, and they knew everyone that had it.

"Haven't seen you here before," the boy went on, brushing his neatly-styled, sandy-blond hair back. "I see you're a Nick Carter fan, too."

"No shit," Jason laughed, looking between them.

"Same haircut," Lisa observed.

"Looks good, doesn't it?" Chris asked rhetorically.

"It's cool," the boy said. He pulled a beer from the case sitting on the windowsill he was lounging against. "Here. This one's on me. Jacob Letellier. Jake, if you want."

"Thanks," Chris said, clinking bottles with the other boy. "I'm Chris Marshall."

"Oh, the new kid in Henry and Mark Evans' circle over at Chamberlain. Yeah. I've heard of you, man. First time at one of these?"

"Yeah."

"Enjoy. They're a lot of fun. Just don't fuck up and get the cops called. Not good for business."

"No. Not at all, dude," Chris agreed, clinking beers with the other boy again.

"Jacob Letellier's okay," Lisa commented to Chris as they moved along into the house. "He goes to Waynflete School."

"He's a jackass," Jason amended. "Thinks going to private school makes him special."

"You're just mad he slapped you before he transferred out after 7th grade," Tony cut in.

"Listen, he was asking for it. I got him, too."

"Yeah, but it didn't make that cool 'whap' sound."

"You two were just going at it, smacking each other like a coupla little girls in the middle of gym class-"

"This is great," Chris commented as Tony and Jason started to bicker over the details of the incident. "I never knew somebody slapped Jason before."

"It was perfect," Lisa snickered. "Jake moves pretty fast. He'd probably get away with it again if they fought."

"Babe?" Chris asked elegantly, taking another beer offered by some kid who looked like a freshman. Blond and obsequious, he looked much the way Henry Evans probably had in 9th grade. He was one of the football recruits, Chris realized, though he didn't remember the kid's name.

"Chrissie, my gentleman," Lisa responded, taking the bottle. They clinked the glasses together.

"Come on, let's get out there and dance," Jason said as he charged in, Tony already side-by-side with him.

"Watch this, babe," Chris told Lisa. He took a long drink, set the bottle down, and headed out to the dance floor.

What followed was almost an hour-long show, put on by Jason, Tony, Chris, and then joined by Paul Hendricks and Mason Sarkozy when they arrived at the house partway through. The boys lip-synced to the Backstreet Boys, to NSYNC, and, at the request of over a dozen girls shouting at once, to some girl group called Bewitched.

Chris felt a little weird doing his latest made-up dance moves while lip-syncing to some women with Irish accents, but Lisa was laughing and cheering from the sidelines, and having ditched their shirts in the first few minutes, the five boys were getting plenty of attention anyway.

The fact was, though, that Chris had virtually no idea what he was doing, and he was getting almost exhausted after so much moving around on his feet like this, but somebody had even put some extra lights on right overhead. All eyes were on the five boys, and when they finished the last Backstreet Boys song they danced to, the cheer that went up made Chris grin and take a bow with the others.

Totally worth it.

ΩΩΩΩΩ

John LaFleur was sitting on one of the stools when Chris came over, taking care with his latest beer since he didn't want it… compromising anything when he went upstairs.

"Heyyyy, loooook, it's the new kid," John sang out drunkenly. "Lookwhoitis."

"Hey, man."

"You-probably think-you're the king or something now, right?" John nodded affirmatively to himself. "Yeah. I thought I was, too." He took a long drink, the large bottle of vodka he'd been working on almost empty now.

"What do you mean, dude?" Chris asked, sitting down beside the pale boy with the bright, dyed-blond hair.

"I mean… Henry and Mark… they'll turn on you. If they feel like it. And there will be… nothing you can do. You'll even end up lying. Just so people don't know. Lying for them."

"Uh- Did you guys have a fight or something?"

"Gotta have two people to have a fight. Henry just does what he wants. That sound fun to you?" John laughed drunkenly, tears in his eyes now. "Yeah, you looking forward, new kid? Looking forward to your turn?"

"There's not gonna be-I'm not getting in- whatever trouble you did with them," Chris insisted.

"They decide that. Not you. You'll see, man. I never thought it'd happen to me, either."

"It's not gonna happen to me."

John LaFleur turned, stared at Chris.

"Dude. You're not listening to- me. I said-"

"Hey, John," Jason called out, moving in and clapping a hand on each boy's shoulder. "How about you go hide in the garage or something? Nobody wants to listen to you cry about your girlfriend. Believe me. I checked. Nobody cares about you or that slut."

"Don't-talk about Cindy!" John barked, swiveling around and almost falling off his stool. He managed to stand, staring at Jason defiantly.

"I'm gonna enjoy this," Jason said, reaching out and shoving John back against the counter.

"Fucking prick," John snarled.

"Hey-h-hey, boys!" Chris called out, stumbling a little as he stood; he'd definitely had more than he'd thought tonight. "Boys, just be cool!"

"It's cool outside," Jason observed. "Lemme throw your ass out there, John. Maybe there's somebody out there who gives a shit, whatever it is with you this time."

"I told you to fucking-leave me alone!" John shouted. He swung then, and Chris threw himself in the way, taking the blow to one shoulder. The force was enough to make Chris stagger back a few steps; John LaFleur was even stronger than Chris realized. Being drunk might have thrown off his aim, but not his strength.

Thing was, they were getting more than a few stares now, and much of the downstairs party had stopped to watch the drama unfolding. This was attention, but far from the good kind. Chris forced a smile, looking between the two boys. It was hard to keep up a friendly pretense when you couldn't say which face showed more hatred.

Chris decided to try anyway.

"Hey, let's just- this is our party. Yeah? Just- do what you wanna do. If you wanna sit at the bar and get drunk, or go get laid, or dance, then do that! Let 'em do what they wanna do! This party is for us!"

That won Chris some cheers, nods and grins of agreement. Jason laughed.

"My man Chris," Jason said proudly, shaking hands with him. "You're a pretty cool guy. Don't let this dude waste too much of your time."

"He's cool," Chris added hastily. "It's fine."

"You hear that, John? Chris here's such a good guy he can even stand you."

"Whatever. Go away, man."

"I'm going," Jason said airily. "But only because I want to."

"Fucking asshole," John hissed under his breath as Jason left, bumping fists with Chris before leaving the room, an arm slipped around Nicole Miles' waist.

"He's not all bad," Chris tried to argue, sitting back down and taking another swig of his beer.

"He's an asshole," John insisted. "I-you know, whatever. Hang out with him if you want." John's voice shook. "I'm here and my girl thinks- she thinks- whatever, man. You- seem okay. But your friends are assholes, man. They're fucking assholes."

"Hey, look, I found my boyfriend!" Lisa called cheerfully, coming over and giving Chris a kiss on the cheek. "Had enough fun down here? Oh, John- thanks for the room."

"Yeah. Like I had a choice."

Knocking back what was left of his beer, Chris dropped the bottle on the other side of the counter, leaving it in the kitchen sink. Hosts and anybody who wanted to pitch in- their friends, essentially- cleaned up after. Chris could see Lisa undressing him with her eyes, and he wanted to get to that. To the fun he was here for.

Whatever John LaFleur had going on with the Evans brothers was not Chris' problem. He didn't need to know.

"Babe," Chris said as he got up. "I heard we had a room for us, too. You wanna go check it out?"

"I was thinking about it," Lisa said agreeably. "Might be some great stuff to look at up there."

"Maybe," Chris agreed with a grin. "Better go find out."

ΩΩΩΩΩ

Lisa shoved Chris against the closet door the instant the door was closed.

"Ow, damn!" Chris exclaimed. "Can you-"

The kiss cut him off. Chris slid his hands around Lisa's waist, not even thinking about it at this point. They were out of their minds half the time, but it was fun. Oh, was it fun.

Making out while she grabbed two handfuls of his ass, slipping his hands under her shirt, helping her out of said shirt… Chris lost track of where he'd been. He only cared about where he was, where he knew he was going. Standing there shirtless, hands clasped above his head, while Lisa slowly kissed his lips, neck, chest, abs…

I swear, this has something to do with those basketball games, and me never wearing a shirt at them, Chris thought faintly at one point.

Standing again, pressing quite pleasantly against him, Lisa kissed Chris on the lips again.

"You know what I think'd be really scary for Halloween?" she asked.

"What?"

"If hot, muscular ginger boys didn't do exactly what their girlfriends want."

"Babe, what if there was a guy like that, and he did exactly what his girlfriend wants?"

Lisa pinned him to the wall again, kissed him possessively. She's being- aggressive, Chris realized. The back of his head throbbed still. Chris was confused, a little nervous about whatever mood Lisa was in, but undeniably into it.

Oh, yes. Undeniably.

They ended up in bed, as they always did, and Chris ended up on top, as he usually did. Lisa was responsive, eager, and for whatever reason, almost entirely submissive when the clothes came off. Chris couldn't have cared less. His head was swimming with liquor, hormones, and Lisa Doyle wanted him taking charge. You could so a lot worse than that.

"God," Lisa breathed, head back against the pillows, as Chris slowly entered her. "Oh, fucking God, yes."

"Liz, babe," Chris said airily, "I wanna-just leave it all to me. Kay?"

"Fuck," Lisa gasped as Chris started thrusting, working his hips steadily.

"Yeah," Chris agreed, leaning down, kissing her, hands going for her chest. "Yeah. Fuck, babe."

Tony had said to make sure it felt romantic, always. Keep your thrusting steady but make sure and talk a little, and kiss. Kiss plenty. Eye contact. Make it mean something, or feel like it does.

It was sure working out fine so far.

ΩΩΩΩΩ

Tonight had been perfect. Chris had drunk just enough to get buzzed, so he wasn't clumsy or uncoordinated, still able to do all the fun things Lisa liked him to.

This spare bedroom John LaFleur had offered up- one of the Evans brothers had taken John's own bedroom- offered silk sheets, and Chris was amazing to look at.

Chris was rapidly getting stronger from the gym, more confident in the halls, and becoming eager to take the lead in bed. He almost never wore anything, whatever he may have told his mother, and still seemed almost oblivious to how good he looked from the waist up, how terrific his ass was to stare at, how large his cock was. He wasn't Evans-type-big, because nobody was, but Lisa's body craved more and only the better-endowed guys made her react that way.

"You're pretty big," Lisa said as Chris lay panting on top of her at the end of Round Two.

"I know," Chris grinned. He pulled out, putting a hand between Lisa's legs. The concept of a creampie seemed to fascinate Chris, and he kept doing this, staring at the semen that pooled in his hand, before wiping it off on a towel.

"Did you ever look at Jason or Tony yet? Like, to compare?"

Chris jumped a little. "What? Uh-no!"

"You mean you didn't wanna know which one of you has the biggest cock?" Lisa asked slyly.

"W-well-"

"I won't tell if you looked. I know you guys skinny-dip all the time."

"Gah- okay- okay. Yes, I looked, babe." Chris said it hurriedly, quietly, like he was afraid someone would hear.

"And?"

"I think, uh, I think I might be a little bigger, but Tony and Jason are both big. Uh- it's pretty close. But I might be a little, y'know, bigger and stuff."

"Ooh, really?" Lisa asked, almost delighted she'd picked the largest of the three. She'd had sex with Tony and Jason, but Jason had been years ago. He'd probably hate it if he ever realized his new best friend was a little bigger than he was. Another thing he'd be complaining about.

"Yeah. Uh- yeah. I'm pretty sure."

"How many times did you look?"

"Um… th-three… times."

"Wow."

"Babe, I-I wanted to know!"

"I don't mind." Lisa paused. "I really won't tell anyone you looked. As long as you're not gay."

"Babe, do I act like I'm gay?"

"Hmm. You've almost proved you're not."

"Jeez!" Chris laughed.

ΩΩΩΩΩ

Weeks came and went and Lisa Doyle's dating Chris Marshall continued to be a topic of interest around the school. Kids continued to wonder what Chris had or did that made him so interesting to the best-looking girl in school, and Lisa was content to let the rumors fly. They were all just flattering to Chris anyway, and he certainly didn't seem to mind them himself.

Mark Evans told everyone on that first November Monday that he had slept with Amy Philips at the Halloween party, but it ended up being pretty disappointing. He said they'd broken up, but Amy was a ghost in the halls that week, and sometime soon after she disappeared. Word was she'd transferred to another school.

Lisa didn't care and said so to anyone who asked. Amy's approach to boyfriends was so strange, so bizarre, and so holier-than-thou that Lisa had been hoping someone would knock her off that perch of hers. She'd probably been just too boring to sleep with, meaning she knew firsthand what Mark was like, and that she wasn't getting him back now.

That would have devastated anybody, Lisa thought, and so she looked no further into it.

Chris expressed only passing curiosity about Amy Philips and her sudden departure from school. Lisa privately wished it had just been Henry who'd suddenly gone through a breakup, Henry who was abruptly single again, but stunning as Mark was, he wasn't Henry.

So close yet so far. Lisa could only continue to wait.

As they got into the third week of November, then the fourth, Lisa noticed that Henry and Mark had definitely ceased glaring at Chris, and there had been no more confrontations in random bathrooms while her boyfriend was just trying to go. Lisa heard everything, and both the rumor mill and her seat at the big kids' table said, Chris was off the hook and things were fine again.

Their private dates did get interrupted occasionally- there were two more parties held in the Evans brothers' name after the one on Halloween- but since Chris and Lisa made an appearance each time, Henry and Mark had no further cause to bother Chris about anything.

Try as Lisa might, she could barely get Henry Evans to show more than a passing interest in her, whatever she brought up, but he had shown up, stood deliberately close to her by her locker just before Halloween.

That had to count for something.

ΩΩΩΩΩ

Lisa was late.

There was no mistaking it. Thanksgiving was two days ago, Mom had already been asking about how much Lisa had been hiding out in the bathroom, just waiting for it, convinced it would start anytime.

She had never missed one before. Not in all these years. Chris flashed to mind, then Mason. Lisa didn't want to think of them right now, didn't want to even consider what this could mean. But when she got a third positive result, sitting here in the bathroom across from her bedroom… there was no way she could avoid thinking about them, and what this meant.

Finally, knowing Chris was over at Tony Summers' place watching some movies with Jason tonight, Lisa called. It was actually pretty touching, the three self-proclaimed coolest boys around, agreeing to watch the house and Tony's sisters while their parents went out on a date for the weekend.

Chris ended up being the one who answered.

"Marsh-Summers, uh, residence," he announced, his voice smooth, clear, unmistakable.

"Chrissiewhoisit?" the younger of the two girls asked, sounding like she was inches from the phone. "Hi, whoever it is!"

"Hey, uh, Chris?" Lisa said, holding on tightly.

"Liz! Hey, babe!" Chris answered warmly. "What's going on? I-I was just gonna call you, I'm just-"

"HeyChrissie'sgirlfriend!"

"Hey, um, hey- look, Tony! There's Tony! He's back with the pizza, girls!"

"Tonnnnyyyyyyyy!" two young girls cheered, with the sound of feet thudding on the floor.

"Okay, babe," Chris laughed. "Uh- yeah, it's been crazy around here. Three dudes pretending to be one, like, collective mom. I was gonna call. I hope you're doing better, and-"

"Chris, it-it's about that," Lisa cut in tersely. "I-I need to go to-the hospital. Can you guys-call-Mason? He better be there, too."

"I'm on my way," Chris said. "I love you."

No hesitation, no nothing. The line went dead.

ΩΩΩΩΩ

A confused, bleary-eyed Mason Sarkozy greeted Chris and Jason when they showed up at his house twenty minutes after Chris made the call. There was some arguing, but Mason came back out in a hoodie and sweatpants, and climbed into the back of Jason's Mustang.

"Boys," Mason said, as Chris got back in and closed the passenger door. He still needed a shave, and his voice sounded a little croaky, but he nodded to each of them, as if everything was cool and they weren't randomly going somewhere on a cold, quiet Saturday night.

"I think I know what this is about," Chris said distantly. "I think I know."

"Chris, Lisa might just be freaking out, man," Jason countered, steering away from the curb and quickly shifting through the gears, taking them to the Doyle house a lot faster than the law around here likely preferred.

"Oh, shit," Mason sighed in the back some five or six minutes later. "So that's what this is. I knew it. Fuck, dude. Fuck."

"Yeah," Chris nodded. "I'm worried. About her."

"What?" Mason almost shouted. "Her? Think about me, man! If I'm why she missed her period just now, dude, my life is over, man! It's fuckin' over!"

"It's her problem, too, you dumbfuck!" Chris screamed, twisting in his seat.

"Well, aren't you Mister Noble?" Mason shot back. "Aren't you just the knight in fucking shining armor?"

"Will you guys shut the fuck up?" Jason bellowed over them both. "You guys get a grip or I swear to fucking God, I will turn this car around and you idiots can walk!"

The rumble of the Mustang's V8 was the only sound in the car for over a minute.

"Jason," Chris finally managed, "you really sounded like a dad just then."

"Yeah, you really kinda did," Mason agreed.

"Guys, fucking- Jesus," Jason sighed in exasperation. "Tony didn't wanna leave his sisters. I'm not here to babysit you, and Lisa might just be, I dunno, randomly late on her damn period or something. So quit, y'know, quit freakin' out."

"I'm just-I want Lisa to be okay," Chris said earnestly.

"Man, you got serious about her," Mason observed, sounding more impressed than anything.

"I am serious about her," Chris admitted.

"I hope this isn't what you think it is," Mason added, as they pulled up and Lisa Doyle came out to the curb, looking thoroughly shell-shocked.

"Well, I guess we're gonna find out," Chris replied.

ΩΩΩΩΩ

The Mustang got a lot quieter inside once Chris climbed into the back, making room for Lisa. None of the four teenagers wanted to talk about what might have already happened, so they all sat there and pretended like they drove to the hospital at night all the time.

Lisa got out quickly when they reached the hospital, almost vanishing inside. Almost immediately, Mason started to complain and worry, which nearly got Chris going in turn.

"Guys, fucking calm down, go inside, find Lisa," Jason said with more of that forced calm. "I'm gonna park and come inside. You two better not flip your shit while I'm out there, or I swear-"

"Okay, Dad!" Chris sassed, opening the passenger door and standing aside as Mason climbed out.

"Chris, you just fu-"

Mason closed the door, cutting the other boy off. Jason made a rude gesture, then jerked the Mustang into gear and headed off to find a parking space.

"He really did sound like somebody's dad just then, twice," Mason marveled.

"Yeah, man," Chris agreed. "He's such an asshole, though."

"I mean, my Dad's an asshole," Mason shrugged. "Jason's an asshole…"

"Jason's… our dad?" Chris asked, trying to complete the sentence.

They stared at each other, stunned, then burst into almost hysterical laughter. It didn't change the tension of the situation, the worry they both felt, but, it felt good to laugh for a few moments all the same.

ΩΩΩΩΩ

True to his word, Jason managed Chris and Mason pretty effectively, getting them back in their seats if they popped up too fast, or getting them out of them if they stayed too long. A few times, Chris saw him talking with Tony on the phone on the other side of the lobby, seeming to be asking for advice.

The testing took longer than Chris had wanted, mostly because he just wanted to know. Whatever the outcome, he just wanted to know.

Mason, sitting beside him, seemed to have the same look on his face, the same wish for the suspense to just be over.

"Maybe it's nothing," Lisa said for the hundredth time. Chris and Lisa had been holding hands, hanging on like the other was a lifeline, for… a while now.

A good long while.

Finally, though, when Chris began to fade out a little, starting to nod off, the doctor showed up, ushered Chris, Mason and Lisa into a private room, and told them what they'd both dreaded and yearned to hear.

The waiting was over, at least.

"Oh, shit," Chris managed faintly.

"Fuck," Lisa added. She buried her face against Chris' shoulder, starting to cry. That made Chris start to lose it, too, and it took a while before they could think or see clear enough to leave the office again.

Follow-up appointments were talked about. Calls would be made so their parents would know all the necessary details.

Finally, Chris was standing in a sterile white hallway by some vending machines, waiting for Lisa to come back from the bathroom.

Mason Sarkozy came over, set a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm gonna get drunk as soon as I get home," Mason said. "Honestly, man- you oughta do the same thing."

"Yeah," Chris managed. It was difficult to speak at all right now.

"Sorry, man," Mason said. "Hey, so… I called a cab, 'cause, I figured, y'know, you guys might wanna make this a smaller group thing on the way back."

"Yeah. That's fine."

"You guys- you guys might get through this, y'know," Mason shrugged. "But- good luck. Okay? Hope it works out. Congratulations, Daddy. See you at school."

Mason left just as Lisa came back out, looking for all the world like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

"We are so fucked," Lisa whispered, doing her best to hide from everyone and everything as Chris hugged her.

"We'll-I don't know, we'll-something," Chris said. "We'll think of something."

"What? Like what?"

"I don't know," Chris answered. "I don't know. Something."

Jason had shown up at… some point. He didn't look thrilled to be here, but at the same time he was calm, matter-of-factly holding his keys up, the message obvious. Chris managed a nod to him.

"They're gonna call my parents. We better tell them first," Lisa said.

"Yeah."

"This is so fucked."

"Yep."

The ride back was a quiet one. Jason knew what was up and, surprisingly, had no smart remarks or fancy speeches. He just drove, letting Chris and Lisa hold hands, quietly trying not to fall apart.

Chris got out of the Mustang when they got to his house, and Lisa got out with him.

"I'm not staying by myself," Lisa said flatly.

"Okay," Chris answered. He understood. The prospect of staying overnight by himself, with news like this to deliver the next day, wasn't appealing anyway.

Jason motioned Chris around to the driver's side as he started to go in. Chris went around and looked at him expectantly.

"You'll live, okay?" Jason said. "This isn't the end of the world."

"I'm so fucking fucked, man," Chris said, his voice shaking. Lisa was talking to her mother on her cell phone. The world they'd known was already starting to end.

"Tony told me to tell you that this isn't the end," Jason amended. "Okay? And- he's right. Look- we're not going anywhere. Okay? Me and Tony're gonna be here once you two tell your parents about it. We'll be here."

"Thanks, Jason."

Jason smiled. "I hate you so much, you stupid ginger."

"Fuck you, you stupid prep school wannabe." Chris didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry right now, and he was grateful to have his mood changed even that much for the better.

"Tony and me are getting you for lunch, or dinner, or whatever tomorrow," Jason said. "If World War III happens between her parents and yours, take pictures. You know she's got a Polaroid." He winked.

"Fuck off," Chris said, managing a laugh.

Chris stepped back around to the curb, took Lisa's hand. "My Mom's a good person," Chris promised, looking at the open front door. Laura Marshall had noticed the car lights out front and was waiting inside the storm door.

"I told my Mom," Lisa said, looking, sounding dazed. Like she didn't quite think this was real.

"What did she say?" Chris asked, glancing as Jason drove off, raising a hand in farewell.

"She said we'll all talk about it tomorrow. 'Figure things out.'" Lisa laughed, several sharp, mirthless barks. "What're we gonna fucking 'figure out'?"

"Things," Chris shrugged. He didn't know what else to say.

"Let's go talk to your Mom," Lisa continued. "She won't kick us out. Right?"

"Never." Chris smiled. "I told you, she's a good person."

"Fuck it," Lisa sighed. "I just wanna sleep. Let's go."

They went inside. Said what they had to. Mom didn't throw them out. She would've thrown herself out before doing that to her son, or his pregnant girlfriend. Mom listened, understood, and promised things were going to be okay. Nothing more or less, not for tonight.

After agreeing that they'd get together with Lisa's parents at her house tomorrow, Mom went upstairs, and Chris and Lisa went to Chris' room, one of many he'd had growing up over the years.

Under the covers, with Lisa right beside him, Chris lay awake wondering what they were going to do. This wasn't supposed to have happened. Senior year had been meant as his time to be a big deal, to have a blast before he graduated. This was grownup stuff and it wasn't supposed to happen yet.

And yet here we are, Chris thought. He didn't know a thing about pregnancy beyond the basics. He didn't know anything about abortions or becoming a dad or anything in between. But he knew he wasn't running for California or anything. Not even if he had a million dollars to take with him.

Wind blowing around the street made a low howl outside. Chris took a while to fall asleep, but he was grateful, at least, that the cold was out there. In here it was safe and warm.


A/N: Completed 23 January 2025. First uploaded the same day.


This chapter was tricky to get started with, given the significant change in tone it takes- going from centered around a teenage couple having fun to suddenly realizing that some of that fun had life-changing consequences- but I got it going. Once you get any short story, any chapter going, the thoughts and the words begin to flow, and in the best cases a perfectly good piece of work basically writes itself.

That was how it went today, and I enjoyed getting to see that happen. It still takes hours, but it's fun.

To any new and old readers, any fans of the little archive we have for "The Good Son," I hope you appreciate this look at another version of events in Henry and Mark Evans' 12th grade/senior year. They will continue to feature in this work, though Chris Marshall is ultimately the chief protagonist this time.

Reviews and feedback in all forms are always appreciated. If I did well, let me know what. If there is something I could do better, even just a typo I missed, let me know that as well.