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Thorny Rose Ch. 01

By: JayDavid



This is a three part series that is sort of a slow build. I hope you like the characters and the story—the real sex doesn't kick in until Chapter 3.

*

Nothing interesting ever happens in Farston. I mean, obviously, some stuff happens, we had that big car accident a couple of years ago, and that storm last summer that caused a flood, but not much interesting to a teenager like me. It was the first day of school, so that meant that my summer routine was over, and I had to get back to my school routine. As I got dressed, I was thinking without any particular enthusiasm of seeing the same kids who I had known since kindergarten and the same teachers I knew since I started high school.

At least it was senior year. Not that I hated Farston, really, it was a great place to grow up in so many ways, but I couldn't wait until graduation and the chance to go to college and widen my horizons some. So, at least that would be different—applying to colleges would give me and my friends something new to speak about other than sports, TV and girls. I finished getting dressed, put on my shoes and came downstairs.

As usual, my father was sitting at the table, drinking coffee and eating a bowl of cereal while reading the newspaper. The local NPR station was droning on about the situation in Africa, and Mom was finishing making my lunch.

"I told you that you didn't need to do that," I said, smiling with the knowledge that she was going to ignore me.

Mom smiled back, her dark eyes flashing, "You are on your own tomorrow, Dale, but you know I always make lunch on the first day of school."

"I know, Mom, and thanks," I said, pouring myself a cup of coffee and a bowl of Cheerios.

"So, senior year," my dad said, and he waited for my response.

"Yep," I replied, "I guess this is the last year that Mom will have to make my 'first day of school' lunch."

Dad laughed. "Don't bet against her getting something to your dorm next year."

I looked at Mom, and there was a devious look in her eyes. I wouldn't put it past her, actually.

We ate in silence after that, for the most part, listening to the news and slurping our cereal. Dad looked at his watch and said, "Ready?"

I stood up, took our dishes to the sink, grabbed my backpack and headed out to the car. Ever since I got my license, I dropped Dad off at his office in town before driving to school. It was a good arrangement, and it allowed me to have a car to get me home after school, and gave me a little freedom. Either Mom or I would pick him up at the end of the day, unless he got the crazy idea to walk home from town, which happened about once every six months, and usually ended with his complaining about how much his feet hurt.

Dad's only rules were that I had to pay for gas and he got to choose the music while he was in the car, which seemed pretty fair. His musical tastes weren't bad, for a dad. As we drove through our neat suburban neighborhood into the small downtown of Farston, we made small talk. Sports, mostly, and school. I pulled up in front of the three story brick building on the corner of Main and Collins that housed his office. "Good luck," he said, as he grabbed his briefcase and slid out the door.

"You too," I said, like I did most every school day, before pulling away from the curb and heading down Main, past the few stores, the bank and post office that made up Farston, toward the school campus. I was a bit early, so the student lot was almost empty, and I could park anywhere. I recognized pretty much every car in the lot, so I knew that Larry was already there, but, as usual, Albert was not. I grabbed my backpack, locked the car and headed into the school, passing into the "New Wing," that had been built in 1978, nodding at people in the hall, before finding my homeroom in the original school building, that dated from the turn of the last century, and which both my parents, and all four of my grandparents, had graduated from.

I walked into homeroom, said hello to Ms. Walker, who had been my freshman English teacher, and asked if there was assigned seating. Ms. Walker was young, and not bad looking, and had a subtle sense of humor. She told me that it was senior year, and I could sit anywhere, so I found a seat a few rows back and a few rows from the door. Not the front row, not the back row, and not dead center. It was where I liked to sit. I said hello to Nicole Lawrence, sitting in her usual front row seat, nodded to Sal Clarke, in the back row, whose eyes were barely open, and gave a half wave to Erika Fletcher, the first girl I ever kissed back in eighth grade, and who I had said about a dozen words to since, before sitting down. The room began to fill with a selection of the usual characters, some of whom acknowledged me, and some who didn't. I waited for another school year to start.

And then, something actually happened.

A new girl walked in the room, looking uneasy and out of place. A pretty girl, clearly. She was tall, with long blonde hair pulled back in a severe pony tail. She was wearing jeans and a blue shirt, not overly tight, but tight enough to make it clear that she had a good body. I could sense the general hubbub in the room get softer as everyone began to size up the stranger. I noticed immediately that some of the guys stood up straighter and some of the girls tried to fluff their hair.

I saw Ms. Walker look at her book, and then she said to the new girl, "You must be Rose Hicks." The girl nodded shyly. "I'm Ms. Walker, your homeroom teacher, welcome to Farston High, you can sit anywhere that's open."

"Thanks," she said softly before finding a seat in the second row, a few rows away from me. As I looked at her more, I realized that she was actually quite pretty, even without trying too hard, and I knew that this would give us all something new to talk about, at least for a few days, until we got used to her.

The bell rang, and Ms. Walker welcomed us to senior year, handed us our locker assignments and combinations, made a few announcements, explained a few minor rule changes that seemed both unnecessary and random, and the bell rang. Senior year was on. I found my locker, pleased that it was convenient to my classes unlike last year, stashed a few things from my backpack and headed off to first period, where I was happy to see Larry and Albert. It was what I expected, as was second period.

However, on my way to third period, I was approached by Mr. Garner, the principal. I knew that I couldn't have done anything wrong yet, and was surprised when he asked me to come to his office right at the beginning of lunch period. He didn't say why, but he assured me that I was in no trouble. I'm generally the type that stays out of trouble, but I'm not a complete stranger to the detention room, but usually for dumb, pranky stuff, not anything mean or malicious. I noticed the new girl in my third period English class, but other than that, it was unremarkable, and when the bell rang, I went to Mr. Garner's office. Myra, his secretary, greeted me, wished me luck in my senior year, and sent me into the office.

I was surprised to see Erika there, along with Marsha Patterson, our class president from last year, and Sam Cruz, the editor of the school newspaper. We nervously greeted each other and waited for Mr. G to tell us what the fuck was going on.

"Some of you may know that we have a new student in your class this year, Rose Hicks." Erika and I nodded. "I asked you in here because you are good kids, who have some influence with your classmates." I wasn't sure that I was really so influential, but I figured he knew what he was doing. "Anyway," the principal continued, "Rose has gone through some tough stuff in her life, and is here because she and her family want a quiet place where she can go to school, make some friends and be left alone."

Marsha, who had been pushy since she took everyone's crayons in kindergarten, interrupted and said, "What d'you expect us to do?"

Mr. G smiled and said, "I just want her to have an easy time here, and I figured that you four could help it to happen, without making it too obvious."

I thought that was pretty clever, actually, and was musing on how sometimes grownups can surprise us, when Sam asked, "What happened to her?"

Mr. G's face clouded. "I can't tell you. You just have to trust me." He paused before continuing, "Sam, I know that you want to be a reporter, but I'm asking you to exercise discretion here. Don't do anything without the facts, or one of your classmates and her family will be hurt."

I could see the wheels turning in Sam's brain. "Are they in the witness protection program?" he asked.

"No. Not that. But I didn't invite you in for a game of Twenty Questions. I'm asking you for a favor. For me, and for Rose and her family. I think that I've always been straight with you. I've always answered your questions and tried to deal with your concerns, to the best of my ability. Now I'm asking you to trust me and do the right thing."

"Fine," I said. "I'm in." The other three fell in line after that. Maybe I was more influential than I thought.

"I'm not asking you to start a whispering campaign," our principal continued. "Just be aware that there may be rumors, but I hope not, and that she is going to need support and friendship. OK?"

We all agreed. Mr. G looked at his watch and said, "You still have time to get to lunch. Get a pass from Mrs. Klein on the way out. And thanks. You are doing a good thing."

After getting our late passes, the four of us chattered together as we left the office. I peeled off to get my lunch, and when I got to the cafeteria, Larry and Albert were nowhere to be seen. I looked around, and most of the tables with my other friends were pretty full. I noticed that Rose was sitting at a table toward the edge of the room, with George Dawson, who was as usual staring at his iPad, and Naomi Franklin, listening to music on the headphones that pressed her curly black hair into an odd, puffy shape. I figured, why not start doing what Mr. G. asked, so I walked over to the table and pointed to an empty chair.

"Mind if I sit down?" I asked.

"No, of course not," she said softly. I thought I sensed a bit of a southern accent, but wasn't sure.

I sat down, put my bag lunch on the table and said, "I'm Dale Bennett, you're in my homeroom and English class."

She smiled, and I realized that she was not just pretty. She was beautiful. "I'm Rose Hicks, the new girl," she said, making finger quotes with a nervous chuckle.

"Where are you from originally?" I asked.

She paused for a second, longer than I expected, actually, because it didn't seem like that hard a question, before saying, "outside of Atlanta."

So, I was right about the accent. "I've never been there, actually, I've pretty much never been anywhere, except New York City on the junior class trip," I responded.

"I guess it was nice. I kinda moved around some," she said, and looked around the room as if nervous. I was glad that Mr. G had given me the heads up, because otherwise I would have thought she was a bit squirrely.

"You O.K.?" I asked.

"Um, yeah," she said, taking a bite of the chicken fingers that she must have bought for lunch. She had made a good choice, because the chicken fingers were much better than the hockey puck they called a burger or the mushy pizza.

I realized that I didn't have much time to eat before my next class, and I opened my brown bag, pulling out the sandwich my mom had made, and an apple. I knew without looking that it was a ham and Swiss on wheat bread, with mayo on one piece of bread, mustard on the other, and lettuce and tomato. It was the same lunch that she made for me on every other first day of school, as long as I could remember. I smiled before taking a bite.

I looked up, and saw Rose looking at me. "What?" I asked, trying to keep my tone friendly.

"You look really happy, kinda like you are about to eat the best sandwich in the world."

I shrugged. "It is a good sandwich, but I was just smiling about the fact that my mother insists on making me the same lunch every first day of school."

A flicker of something passed over her pretty face, sadness maybe, and she said, softly, "I guess that must be nice. You know, having family traditions and all."

Which seemed a bit odd to me, and I asked, "You must have some sort of traditions, right?"

"Not really," she said, and devoted her attention to really examining one of the chicken fingers, which probably weren't designed to withstand close scrutiny.

"I'm sorry," I responded after a few seconds. I wasn't sure what for, but it seemed like the right thing to say. We ate in silence for a while. I could hear the noises of kids finishing lunch, the squeal of chairs being slid away from tables, and the crumpling of garbage.

"I'm sorry I wasn't such a great lunch date," Rose said in a somewhat forced tone.

I decided to play along. "Madam, it has been one of the best first dates I ever had," I said, with excess sincerity, although in fact, if it really was a date, it actually would have been about the third best first date I ever had, after Bailey Hastings let me feel her up in tenth grade (although that went south pretty fast) and the incredible day I spent with Julia Ventura the summer after sophomore year at Adventure Park (which unfortunately led only to a summer of frustration and betrayal). I got a smile from her, not a huge smile, but at least an acknowledgement that I had amused her a bit.

"What do you have next?" I asked.

She reached into her purse and pulled out a folded schedule. She unfolded the paper and read, "Earth Science—"

"With Mr. Richards?"

"Yeah."

"He's pretty good. Take good notes," I advised, "he tests totally based on what he says in class." I took the last bite of Mom's sandwich and stuck the apple into the pocket of my sweatshirt for later. "I can walk you to Richards' classroom, it is on the way to my next class," I offered. She appeared to hesitate for a second. "Don't worry," I said, "this won't destroy your social standing on day one."

She smiled again, bigger this time, and I realized again how pretty she was. Her features were almost perfect. Blonde hair, blue eyes, clear skin, full, red lips. But there was a weariness in her eyes, and I wasn't sure if that was from a lack of sleep, nervousness about the first day at a new school, or the stuff that Mr. G had hinted about.

"Well, in that case, since I know that it won't destroy my reputation, let's go." She laughed, stood up and followed me out.

When we left the cafeteria, I turned to her and said, "Just so you know, you are already topic number one around here. We haven't had a new kid since ninth grade, when Ivan Clarke moved here from Denver when his dad was transferred here by Wells Fargo."

"And what happened to him?" she asked.

"Nothing. We talked about him for a while, and he turned out to be a good guy and an amazing third baseman. You'd never know that he didn't grow up here." I paused, and looked at her face, and could see that she was drinking this in.

"Good," Rose said. "I just want to fit in here too."

I smiled and tried a joke. "So, what's your best position?"

She stopped short and looked at me, but with hard eyes. "What do you mean?" She sounded pissed for some reason and I felt the easy relationship that we had somehow created tense up.

"Um, nothing. I just said that Ivan fit in quickly because he was a good third baseman, and wanted to know what baseball position you played. It was a joke." I felt like I had crossed an imaginary line, but for the life of me I had no clue how or why.

"Oh, O.K.," she replied. "I'm not a baseball fan, so I didn't get it."

"So, you weren't a Braves fan back in Atlanta?"

"No, um, I really didn't have time for that." She made a face that resolved into a small smile.

The tension ebbed, and I said, "Here's Richards' classroom. Nice to meet you, Rose. See you later."

"Bye, Dale. Thanks for everything."

I admittedly watched her cute ass as she walked into the classroom before heading down the hall to my next class. I quickly forgot Rose as I plunged into the first day of AP Chem.

The rest of the day was unremarkable. Since it was the first day of school, I had nothing scheduled for after, and I ran into Larry and Albert on the way to the parking lot and we decided to get coffee. We went in our separate cars and met at Cookie's, the only non-fast food restaurant in town. No one was in our usual booth, so we took it and waited for Cookie to acknowledge us. Actually, her name was Amelia, and she had bought the place from the original Cookie decades ago, but apparently the name also transferred with the business. No one called her Amelia. She finally saw us and yelled from behind the counter, "The usual, boys?" and we all said yes. A few minutes later, she waddled toward the table, with a tray holding two cups of coffee and a silver container of cream, and a pot of tea for Albert, who could never stand the taste of coffee.

As I was pouring sugar into my steaming cup, Larry blurted out, "Did ya see the new girl. Oh my god she is fucking hot." Albert enthusiastically agreed.

"I had lunch with her today. She seems nice," I said, trying to make that sound casual. But conversation stopped. Albert actually stared at me, holding his spoon in mid-stir. I was not completely without experience with girls, but I have to admit, it generally is not in my usual nature to be aggressive, and they knew that, so I was not surprised that they were surprised.

"What the fuck?" asked Larry.

"Well, I got to lunch late, you douchebags had already left, everyone else was doing stuff and there was an empty seat at her table, so I sat down."

Albert wasn't buying my story in the least. "I call bullshit," he said. "What's going on?"

I knew that I couldn't hide anything from them. We had been friends since third grade and told each other everything. And if they found out from someone else, I knew that they would be pissed at me. So, I said, "Garner called me, Erika, Sam Cruz and Marsha into his office. He was mysterious, but said that the new girl—Rose—had gone through some tough times, and was looking for a quiet place to fit in. He asked us to help."

Larry nodded. "I wonder what the deal is."

"I know," I replied. "All I know is that we are supposed to quietly help her fit in."

"What is she like?" Albert asked, getting to the real point. I understood immediately. A new, hot girl shows up in town, whether she was attached, available, interesting, whatever, was of critical importance. Of course, I hadn't actually asked any of those questions.

"She seemed nice. Maybe a bit shy and nervous. Sad, maybe."

"You going to go for it?" Albert asked.

"I barely know her," I protested. As I said, I'm not the most aggressive guy in the world.

"It's just nice to see a new girl in town," Larry noted.

"Because none of the old ones will do anything with us," I said, stating the obvious. Which is not to say that any of the three of us were horrible. To the contrary, objectively speaking, we were all O.K. looking, reasonably intelligent and pretty genial. But we all found it hard to hook up with the girls that we had known forever. Other guys didn't seem to have that problem, and there were a number of couples in town, some of whom were reportedly fucking like bunnies, but none of us had ever gotten laid.

There was a moment of silence while we sipped our drinks. I know that I briefly considered the odds, and I suspect my friends did too. But I knew that there was little chance that anything would come of the arrival of Rose Hicks, and the conversation shifted quickly back to the pennant race and TV.

That night, we were eating dinner and Mom asked me, as she usually did, if anything interesting happened at school. I know she was expecting the usual negative response, and I saw her eyebrows arch when I said, "Actually, yes."


Thorny Rose Ch. 01



"What?" Dad asked, taking a drink of water.

"We had a new girl show up today," I started.

Mom interrupted—"Is it so dull around here that a new girl qualifies as big news?"

I could see Dad smiling, because, as he was fond of pointing out, he was once a teenage boy, and knew exactly what we would be interested in. I said, "Well, first of all, yeah, it is kind of quiet here, and we haven't had a new kid since Ivan back in ninth grade. Second, the really interesting thing was that Mr. G called me and a few other kids in to ask us to help her fit in, since she apparently has gone through some stuff."

Mom looked at Dad, and I sensed some sort of unspoken communication, but I had no idea what. Dad asked, "Did he say what sort of stuff?"

"No, he was pretty tight with the info, but we all agreed to help."

"What is she like?" Mom asked.

"Actually, I had lunch with her. She said she was from near Atlanta, but moved around. She seemed nervous."

"To be expected, I guess," Dad commented, taking a bite of his burger.

"What does she look like?" Mom asked.

"Um, blonde, kinda tall, I guess."

Dad looked at me and grinned. "Pretty?"

I felt my face get warm. Mom laughed and said, "She must be. Dale's blushing."

I smiled sheepishly and decided to spend a few seconds carefully watching the way that the ketchup adhered to my French fries. "Yeah. Very."

"So, no idea what the story is with her?" Dad probed.

"I really don't. But I suspect that in this town, the rumor mill will be starting up soon."

"I'll make some calls," Mom said.

"Please don't," I pleaded. "Mr. G asked us to keep it quiet and not start things up."

Mom frowned. She hated not knowing juicy stuff, and this had all the markings of juicy stuff. "Fine," she said. But I knew that her antennae would be up and scanning for any hint of intelligence. I finished dinner, cleared my plate and headed to my room to do the homework that a few of my teachers had cruelly assigned on the first day.

* * *

Over the next few weeks, things returned quickly to normal. The initial buzz about the new girl subsided, because she turned out to be quiet and unremarkable, beyond her looks. And it even seemed to me that she was trying to hide her beauty—she wore nondescript clothing, little makeup and always just had her hair pulled back simply. I saw her in class, and in the hall. I could see she made friends with some of the other girls, not the really social girls, but the sort of normal ones who I was mostly friendly with. I said hi to her in the hall, and even found myself having lunch with her a couple of times when Albert and Larry weren't around, and we talked about school. It seemed like Mr. G's concerns had been overstated.

Until that morning.

The day started like any other, and I was walking to second period when I heard a girl screaming. Like everyone, I ran to the sound, and saw Rose, completely unhinged, screaming at Stan Lind. Stan is a defensive lineman on the football team, and roughly the size of a French door refrigerator. He also about as smart as a refrigerator, and not one of those fancy ones with the touchscreens, and more than a little douchey. He was standing there, holding his books and looking at the screaming Rose with a befuddled look. Rose was thrashing and yelling, her face contorted and bright red. I heard "bastard," more than a few "fucks," and the occasional "cocksucker," which was not the usual conversation you heard in our hall.

Everyone was standing there, waiting for something, maybe a teacher, and I figured someone should do something, so I ran toward Rose and grabbed her, trying to stop her arms flailing. She wasn't much smaller than me, and was surprisingly strong, especially in her state, but I was able to manhandle her into an empty classroom, all the while trying to say calming things, like what you say to a snarling dog.

I held on for dear life as she screamed and writhed, until a couple of male teachers and the nurse came by. I have to admit, and I know it is weird, but even with all the craziness, it felt good to hold her body tightly, because it was a pretty incredible female body. When I let her go, she tried to run out of the classroom, but Mr. Tabor, who was the wrestling coach, was able to stop her. I knew that I should leave, but I wasn't going anywhere. This was too interesting. Eventually, she calmed down, and the nurse led her out. I guess that they had cleared the halls, because it was quiet when I walked out, and went to class.

For the rest of the day, it was the talk of the school. All I could find out was that Stan had asked Rose out, and she said no. According to Marcus Grover, who is Stan's best friend, she declined politely, but when Stan put his hand on her arm, to try to change her mind, he said, she freaked out. Knowing Stan, I suspected that there was more to the story.

Which, of course, led to rampant speculation that Rose had been abused, or raped or something, but of course we had no idea what we were talking about.

That night, while I was doing my homework, my phone rang. It was a number I didn't recognize with a strange area code.

"Hello?" I said, but there was no one there. I figured it was a wrong number, and returned to my reading. It rang again, and it was the same wrong number. I tapped the screen and said, "Sorry—still the same wrong number."

Before I could disconnect, I heard a girl's voice say, "Dale?"

It sounded a little like Rose, but I wasn't sure. "Yeah, this is Dale. Who's this?"

"It's Rose. I got your number from Erika."

I briefly flashed back to this afternoon when I was trying to subdue a crazed Rose, and I said, "Hi. Are you O.K.?"

"Um, yeah, thanks, I'm sorry," she sort of mumbled in her faint accent.

"Don't worry. It was no big deal," I said.

There was a pause, and I wasn't sure if she was still there. Then she spoke, softly. "I don't know what happened. That big guy,"

"Stan?"

"I guess. He kept asking me out. Over and over. And he didn't even know my name. Just called me 'new girl' and 'slut.' I asked him to leave me alone. He called me a stuck up bitch and grabbed my arm. The next thing I remember, I was in the nurse's office. She told me that you helped. So, um, thanks and all." Her voice faded out.

"Rose, Stan's been an asshole since we were kids. A big bully. But he's always been popular, even with the girls, who he treats like shit. Probably because he's a big athlete, I guess."

"It's nice to know that there are some gentlemen here," she said, and I wasn't sure if she was joking or not.

I felt obligated to defend my town. "Actually, I think that Stan is the unusual one here," I said, maybe a bit too defensively.

"I didn't mean anything," she replied. "Sorry. Anyway, I was just calling to thank you for helping me and for being my friend."

Now I felt like a jerk. "Rose, I'm sorry if I sounded like a jerk. I'm sorry that things went bad today. It looked like you were fitting in so well."

There was a long pause before she replied. "Yeah, I thought I was too. Thanks."

I'm not sure what that last "thanks" was for, and I said, "Anyway, I'm glad you are O.K. Let me know if you need anything else." Which seemed like the polite thing to say.

"Good night, Dale."

"G'night Rose. See you tomorrow."

"Sure," she said, and disconnected the call.

I realized that there was something about that girl that made me want to help her. And I don't think that it was only that she was pretty. There was something about her that, I just don't know, but there was something.

* * *

Rose actually wasn't in school the next day, which was Friday, and I didn't see her again until Monday. She looked normal, and seemed happy. She smiled at me in class, but we didn't speak until the end of the day. I was walking to my car, and she caught me and said, "Dale, I was wondering if you could give me a hand with some English homework. I'm having trouble with some of the stuff in 1984, and you seem to get it."

I'm a pretty good student, solid top quarter of the class, but no raving genius. I'm considered a bit of a wiseass, and probably could do better in class, if I worked harder. At least, that's what my teachers say. But I was good in English. "Sure, when is good for you?"

"You doing anything now?"

"Actually, no."

"Great. Where do you want to go?"

This was a tough question. If I brought her to my house, Mom would be all over us, and have a million questions later. But I couldn't just invite myself to her house. While I pondered these difficult questions, she said, "We could go to my house, if that's O.K.?"

"Sure."

"O.K., then follow me."

I watched her get into her white Honda, and I followed her to her house, a new construction, although one of the smaller ones, in what used to be Daley's Farm. We went inside. It was furnished pretty simply. Rose introduced me to her mother, who looked like an older, more tired version of Rose, but she perked up a little when we exchanged pleasantries. She brought out some iced tea and store cookies, and left Rose and me at the kitchen table. I got a vibe that maybe Rose and her mother had issues.

We started discussing the book, and it was clear that she was smart but wasn't all that well read. She struggled a bit, because I think she wasn't up on the history of the time when Orwell was writing, so I turned the discussion into one about privacy.

"That, I understand," she said, but her happiness about understanding the theme seemed somehow tinged with sadness.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Um, really, nothing. Just that I know that it is hard to stay private now."

"Yeah, and think about how Orwell seemed to understand that back in the 40s."

She didn't respond, and I realized that she wasn't listening. I looked at her pretty face, and saw that she was a million miles away. Although I had no problem looking at her, I said, "Uh, Rose?"

This snapped her out of her trance. She shook her head, as if trying to clear out the thoughts she was thinking, and closed her book. "That's enough. I think you really helped."

"No problem." I started to pack my stuff up.

"You don't have to leave yet, do you?"

I looked at my watch. "No, I have time before I need to be home."

"Then, want to stay a while and hang out?"

"Sure." I wasn't going to pass up "hanging out" with a beautiful girl, even if she was a bit strange.

She took her iced tea and walked into the living room, and I did the same, once again appreciating from behind the way her jeans fit. We sat on the leather couch, facing each other from opposite ends. Rose broke the slightly uncomfortable silence by saying, "So, you've lived here all your life, right?"

"Yes. I was born in the hospital over in Clearmont, and grew up here. My parents and grandparents too. In fact, our house was the house my mother grew up in."

"That must be nice."

"Yeah, for the most part. Although sometimes, it seems a little small."

"What do you mean?"

"Everybody knows everybody else. Everything just seems the same. I mean, it's kinda boring, y'know." I wasn't really being clear, but it was something that I lived so it was hard to explain.

Rose seemed to be thinking, and took a drink of her iced tea. "It still must be nice, though. Don't you feel safe here?"

"I guess so, maybe too safe. I don't know. But I am looking forward to going to college next year. Get to see new places and meet some new people."

"Meeting new people isn't all it is cracked up to be," she said. Before I could make a wisecrack, she said, "I mean, present company excepted, of course. Mostly everyone has been really, really nice to me."

"That's good," I said, thinking briefly of that asshole Stan who set her off.

We sat quietly, drinking our iced teas and trying to think of something to say.

"Dale, where are you looking at colleges?" she asked.

"I've got kind of a long list. I'm looking for a good liberal arts college. My grades and scores are good, but not great, so I think I need to apply to lots of places, and see where I get in." I paused before asking, "And what about you?"

There was a look of surprise in her eyes and she waited a second before responding. "I haven't really thought about it. I guess I'm not sure if college is for me. I've been worried so much about starting here, that I haven't really thought about next year."

It seemed like we were opening up to each other, and I figured that I might be able to push a little, and find out more about Rose's mysterious past. "What was your last school like?"

She smiled crookedly, which did nothing to lessen her good looks. "Um, I've been out of school for a while," she started. It was my turn to look surprised. "I'm going to tell you something, but you have to promise to keep it a secret." Now, we were getting somewhere.

"Of course. You can trust me."

"I think I can, actually," she said, sounding a little surprised and pleased at the same time. "I'm a little older than the usual senior."

She didn't really look it, I guess, and I said, "Really, you don't look it."

Smiling, she said, "Yeah, I'm actually 21."

I paused. "Wow," I said, completely lacking any coolness at all. "I never would have guessed. I mean, I turn 18 next month, and you don't seem 3 years older than me," I babbled.

Rose looked at me over her iced tea glass. "Yeah, I've always looked younger. Please don't tell anyone, O.K.?"

"I promised that I wouldn't and I won't." She nodded. I thought about asking her why, but I realized that probably was what Mr. G was talking about, and I suspected that if I pressed her, it would not go well. And if she wanted to tell me, she would.

* * *

Over the next couple of months, Rose and I fell into kind of a routine. We had lunch together on Wednesdays, sometimes just the two of us, and sometimes with a varied group of kids, and on Thursdays, we went to her house to work on English. It was very casual. I was happy to see that she was making friends, and although she was struggling a little in English, I was able to help some.

Our conversations were really general. It started off slow and tentative, but as time went on, we found ourselves talking longer and longer. We talked about school, she started to be able to gossip a little about our classmates, and I filled her in on people's back stories. We found a few TV shows and movies that we liked in common, and talked about them. We never talked about my (lack of a) love life, and I never asked her about hers, although I never heard about her going out with anyone from school. Although she was friendly, and told me bits and pieces about her life before Farston, she never fully opened up to me. Despite the fact that it was clear that she wasn't being completely open with me, we became friends, and I looked forward to spending time with her. And while I clearly recognized that she was by far the prettiest girl I knew even though she never did anything to highlight it, it was a completely Platonic relationship.

* * *

I was sitting at Cookie's one day with Larry and Albert, and we were discussing my upcoming 18th birthday. Larry had turned 18 over the summer, and a bunch of us had convinced our parents to let us go to the beach for the weekend. Of course, it was all guys, and even with some sneaked booze, we never got any further with any girls than the occasional chat, not even with the one girl who got really drunk. Albert, the baby of the group, wasn't turning 18 until March. We decided that we needed to have a party, as big a blowout as we could figure out how to get away with.

That evening, I asked my parents and they agreed to allow me to have a party, but not surprisingly, they said no booze. I knew that it was both nonnegotiable and that people would sneak in whatever they could, and I knew that my parents knew that, too, so I of course agreed. I got the word out to everyone, and started to think of what needed to be done.

When I was at Rose's house, on Thursday, after we did our English homework, she said, "Thanks for inviting me to your party. I'm looking forward to it."

"Of course I invited you—we're friends."

She smiled, and said, "I know, but I'm just glad." She took a drink of water, then started to talk, stopped and drank again. "Dale, I hope this doesn't offend you, but I was wondering why you don't have a girlfriend."

This surprised the hell out of me. We had never gone there, and I didn't know what prompted it. "I guess there isn't anyone here I really like that way," I said. Rose looked at me without saying anything and I continued, "I mean, I've had girlfriends in the past, but it never worked out, and it just seems so incestuous here."

She nodded, "I could see that, I guess. You're a nice guy, and I think you'd make a good boyfriend to someone."

"Thanks," I replied, and I decided to press my luck a little. "What about you, Rose? I mean, I know you are a little older than the rest of us, and all, but are you seeing anyone?"

She shook her head. "No, I've been pretty much off the market for a while, and I'm really not sure...."

"C'mon," I interrupted, "You are gorgeous and smart and nice, and...."

Rose put her hand up to stop me. "I've had some bad experience with guys, and I'm not interested. Maybe someday..." her voice trailed off, and she kind of looked out into space before shaking her head. She looked at the clock and said, abruptly, "I have some stuff to take care of before dinner. I'll see you in school tomorrow." So, I left, somewhat confused. I did see Rose in school the next day, but nothing else happened.

* * *

The party was going pretty well. We had a nice turnout, Albert had actually done a good job of setting up a playlist, so the music was good and Mom and Dad had laid in some nice food. I have to say, I have good parents. They have always been there for me, and treated me like a person, not just some dumb kid. I knew that they knew that I wasn't a perfect angel, but they have always been willing to let me do what I wanted, as long as I kept up on my responsibilities. So, as long as I went to school, kept my grades up, did my work and didn't get in trouble, the fact that I might have had a few underage drinks, or used some illegal substances—or fooled around a very little with some girls—was never a big issue for them. So, it didn't surprise me that although they wouldn't buy beer, and said that it wasn't allowed at the party that they retreated to their bedroom, which meant that it wasn't an issue when people went outside and came back smelling of beer or weed. Based on the crowd, I wasn't worried about anyone getting too fucked up or doing anything stupid, but you never know, and I kept an eye out for problems.

I had to admit that I was kind of disappointed that Rose didn't show up. I figured that she didn't want to hang out with a bunch of "kids," or something. But my disappointment was eventually forgotten when somehow, I ended up making out with Tessa Hill, a pretty sophomore who I didn't invite, but somehow found her way to the party. I mean, it is a small town, and it was no secret that I was having this party, and there were a few random people who showed up uninvited. And any negative feelings that I might have had about that were thrown out when my tongue was in Tessa's cute mouth and my hand was squeezing her small, firm breasts, over her shirt.

When we came up for air, she suggested that we find a beer, and casually taking my hand, she led me outside. As we left my house, I noticed that Rose was walking up the path to the front door. She was dressed way differently from school—in a tight red dress that hugged her surprisingly curvy body and stopped at the top of her thighs, highlighting an incredible set of legs. It was a pretty mesmerizing sight, and it was only Tessa's yanking my arm that broke the spell. I followed Tessa's lead around the side of the house where the beer was, and I guess that Rose didn't see me.




Thorny Rose Ch. 01



Both of us grabbed beers and made small talk with the group of mostly guys, and a couple of girls, who were standing around. Tessa pressed herself against me, as if staking her claim, and I felt pretty good about things. I'd always thought that she was cute, but didn't know her that well, and I had heard some rumors that she was maybe a little slutty, so things were looking pretty good. We finished the beers and walked to the back of the house, where a few kids were hanging out, mostly talking. I led Tessa to a darker area by the garage, and we started making out again.

The taste of the beer on her breath, mixed with the smell of her long, flowing wavy light brown hair was very sexy, and we were soon panting and groping pretty seriously. I reached under her shirt and felt the silkiness of her bra, and the hardness of her nipple. My cock was hard, and pressing against Tessa's jeans, and she was kind of humping it. And then she pulled away.

"Dale, I always had a crush on you," she said, breathing hard, her dark eyes staring into mine. This was surprising to me, since I had never seen any evidence of it.

"I always thought you were cute," I said, which was true.

"Is there anywhere private we can go?" she asked, giving me a look of lust that was unlike anything I'd ever seen directed at me. I shook my head.

"It's kinda hard because it's my house and all, and my party. And my parents are around."

She looked surprised, and put her hand on my pants, right on my still hard cock. "Are you sure?"

It is never easy doing the right thing. And despite how much I literally ached to take her up on what I assumed she was offering, the time wasn't right. "My god, Tessa," I said, "I can't tonight. But can we go out sometime?"

She pressed her hot little body against me, leaned up and kissed me. "Sure, anytime." After fixing her hair and straightening out her clothing, she took my hand and we walked back into the house. The party was still going strong, and I scanned the room for Rose, just to make sure that she was doing O.K. I saw her, standing in the corner of the living room, talking animatedly to Erika. And then she turned and quickly walked out. I wanted to follow her, but even though I don't know much about women, I knew that Tessa would not find it at all amusing.

After that, the party continued, and people started to head home. Tessa got a ride home with Mario Kahn, who lived down the street from her, but not before I got a nice kiss goodbye and an accidental on purpose squeeze of my cock. As my parents, Larry, Albert and I started to clean up, I looked for Erika, to find out why Rose left so abruptly, but she had already gone. Eventually, the house was pretty clean, and it was just me and my parents.

"Thanks," I said, "it was a great party."

Mom smiled, "you looked like you were having fun." I blushed.

Dad asked, "Was that Phil and Angela's daughter that was hanging all over you?"

I shrugged, "Yeah, that was Tessa. We kind of hit it off tonight."

I noticed my parents look at each other, although they didn't think I saw it. "Good," said Mom. "They're nice people."

We turned off the lights and went to bed, where, thinking of Tessa, I quickly jerked off before falling asleep.

* * *

I was able to sleep in a bit the next morning, and when I finally checked my phone, there were a few "thank you" texts, which were nice, but also two stranger ones. The first was from Erika, which said, "call me," which, considering our lack of history since 8th grade, seemed odd. The second was from Sam Cruz, saying, "you have to call me asap!!!!," which really seemed over the top. I was hungry and needed coffee, so I went downstairs.

Mom was finishing up the cleanup and Dad was out in the yard picking up some stray trash. I poured myself some coffee and started making toast.

"Mom-do you need any help?" I asked, hoping that the answer would be "no."

"It's O.K.," she said to my relief, "I've got it. Consider it part of your birthday present."

I laughed and thanked her, taking another sip of coffee. As I ate my toast, I thought about the two calls that I apparently had to make, and also about the potential for something to happen with Tessa, by which, of course, I meant the potential for sex with Tessa, and the idea began to get me aroused. I finished my breakfast, then went back to my room.

I figured I'd start with Erika, so I texted her to make sure she was awake. In response, my phone rang.

"Dale?"

"Um, yeah, Erika. What's up?"

"Thanks for the party, it was fun."

"Yeah, thanks, it was." I knew there had to be more. "So, what's going on?"

"Um, did you see Rose last night?"

"Yeah. She looked incredible."

"I know. I hadn't seen her all dressed up before."

"Yeah." I had no idea where this was going.

"Well, uh, she left early--"

"I saw that. Do you know why?"

"She saw you pawing that Tessa girl."

"And?"

"Are you really that thick, Dale?" she asked, with exasperation in her voice.

"What?" I asked, because apparently I am that thick.

"Dale, she likes you. She came to your party, dressed like that for you. And you had your tongue down that little girl's throat."

I was a bit stunned. In all the time that I had spent with Rose, the last thing that I thought was that she had any interest in me. We were friends, and nothing more.

"Um, I had no idea," I said. "None."

"Well, I always thought you were a little dense. Look, Dale, you need to choose. But remember how fragile Rose is, so if you choose to stay with Tessa, be gentle." She hung up before I could say anything else.

And that really was the issue. I mean, Tessa was cute, and she clearly liked me, and seemed willing to do stuff with me. And she seemed kind of normal. Rose, though, she was well out of my league, and older, but I was worried about trying to be with her. The mystery. The fragility, and the way she freaked out when Stan touched her. I had to really think this through, and I fully expected that whatever choice I made would end up badly, knowing my luck with girls.

I was laying on my bed, thinking of my theoretically happy, but practically dangerous, dilemma, when I remembered that Sam urgently wanted me to call him, so I did.

"Hey, Dale."

"Hey."

"Great party, man."

"Thanks. What's so important?"

"O.K. Here's the deal. When I saw Rose last night, all dressed up like she was, she seemed familiar."

"Familiar how?"

"Um, just familiar, O.K.?"

"Yeah."

"So, anyway, look, I'm going to text you a link. You gotta watch it in private and call me back."

"Why the fucking mystery?"

"Just do it." He hung up. A few seconds later, I got a text with a link. I closed the door to my bedroom softly, then clicked the link. A video started to load. It was called "Aubrey Angel Goes Down." When the video loaded, it was an amateurish looking film of a young, naked girl giving a guy a blowjob. It looked like a million other porn videos I had seen since I discovered Internet porn.

Then, it struck me. Aubrey Angel looked a hell of a lot like Rose, maybe a few years younger. I watched, trying to be sure, until the guy shot his load all over her face. It really looked like Rose, and as turned on as I was, I felt a little sick. But it couldn't be Rose. I watched it again, and it looked more and more like her. I Googled Aubrey Angel, and a bunch of videos came up. Some were like the one that Sam had sent—they were either amateurish, or meant to look like them. A few were from what looked like real porn movies. I watched them only long enough to feel pretty sure that the girl was either Rose—or looked just like her.

Then, I checked the search results, and read a few articles. I picked up my phone and texted Sam, "Thanks. DO NOT TELL ANYONE ELSE ABOUT THIS."

I started to dial Rose, when Sam replied, "You can't tell me what to do."

I stopped calling Rose and called Sam instead.

"That's got to be her," he said. "But I think she is using a fake name."

"No shit, genius. Did you read the articles?"

"Of course. This is an incredible story."

"It's not a 'story,' Sam—it is one of our friends' lives. Remember what Mr. G said."

"That's exactly why it's a story, Dale. And I have an obligation to tell it."

"Obligation to who, exactly? The Farston Bugle isn't exactly the New York fucking Times."

"Doesn't matter. This is news, and I have to report it."

I knew that Sam, while a good guy, had always had this crazy attitude about being a "reporter." But I needed time.

"Look, Sam, don't tell anyone until we go back to school on Monday. I want to talk to Rose, so she knows what is going on."

"I'm going to want to ask her for a comment, you know."

His journalistic ethics actually were working to my benefit now. "Fine. Let me speak to her and I will get back to you."

"Fine, but don't waste too much time," he said.

"O.K." He disconnected.

I immediately dialed Rose. Trying not to spook her, I said, "Rose, can you meet me in Founder's Park by the fountain, in like 15 minutes?"

"Uh, sure, Dale. What's going on?"

"We need to talk," I said, hoping that she would think that it was just about me and Tessa.

"Sure, Dale. See you there."



Thorny Rose Ch. 02



Part 2 of a 3 part story—at the end of Part 1, Dale learns Rose's secret and gets ready to tell her that he knows.

*

I was not looking forward to what was about to happen, and was worried about how Rose would react—I'd seen her get violent already, and with someone much bigger than me. But I had called her, and I had to let her know what was going on. I got dressed, ran down the stairs, yelled to my parents that I was going to be out for a bit, jumped in the car and drove to the park. Luckily, it was pretty empty, and I found a bench away from the one couple that was sunning themselves while their little daughter played near the fountain. A few minutes later, Rose came walking toward the fountain, dressed in a casual pair of shorts and a baggy t-shirt, with her hair pulled back. She looked like my classmate and not some porn star. She smiled when she saw me and sat next to me on the bench.

"I'm sorry I left the party without saying 'hi' or 'goodbye,'" she said softly. I waited briefly for an explanation, but when one didn't come, I needed to move to the more important issue. I felt like things were moving very quickly, and my mind was racing.

"That's fine, don't worry about it," I said. "But that's not what I need to talk to you about."

Her face changed dramatically from happy to wary. "What, Dale?"

I couldn't ease around the issue. "I, uh, I know about Aubrey Angel," I said.

"Fuck," she yelled. "Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck," she screamed, hitting my arm, pretty hard. The young couple shot us a dirty look, scooped up their daughter and hightailed it out of there.

When I looked back at Rose, she was crying. She buried her face into my shoulder, and I put my arm around her to comfort her. Her body was heaving with sobs, and I just let her cry, holding her and gently stroking her arm.

After what seemed like an eternity, she pulled away from me and looked me straight in the eye with her red rimmed blue eyes.

"How?" she whispered. "Tell me how."

"This morning, Sam Cruz called me. He said that after seeing you at the party, the way you looked and all, and you looked incredible, by the way," she smiled weakly as I continued, "he thought he recognized you." She arched her eyebrows, and I shrugged, as if any teenage boy didn't watch porn on the Internet. "He sent me a link to a video, and while I wasn't sure it was you, I watched a couple more, and was pretty sure it was you." Rose started to sob again. "I read some of the news articles. Oh my god, Rose, what you went through."

She turned to me, and said, "You read the articles?" I nodded. She started to tell me what happened, and I told her she didn't have to, since I had read the articles, but she insisted. So, in a flat voice, as if she was talking about someone else, she told me the whole story. From being raped by her stepfather, to running away, being beaten and forced to do porn, even though she was underage, and how she was sold to a bigger producer, pretended to participate voluntarily, then got away, contacted the police and got the people who did it to her arrested and thrown in jail. It took more than an hour, including breaks for her to cry and for me to try to comfort her, but I was really out of my depth. She had gone from telling me almost nothing about her life to telling me more than I really needed to know.

When the story ended, pretty much where the news stories stopped, with her back in Atlanta with her mother and her stepfather dead, I asked her, "So how did you end up here?"

Rose took a deep breath. "After a few months, when everything seemed to have settled down, I was going to go back to school and get my diploma, try to be normal and all, my mom and I were out for dinner at Applebee's. When we got back, we noticed fire engines, but didn't think anything of it, until we got closer to our house. We realized it was on fire. Mom and I ran to the house, but the firemen stopped us. And while we were digesting the fact that everything we had was burning, my phone rang. I didn't recognize the number, and when I picked up, a muffled voice said, 'we know where you are.' We freaked out and jumped back in the car and started driving. After a few days, I went online and randomly found Farston. It seemed like a nice place, small enough, and quiet, and so we drove here. I spoke to the chief of police and Mr. G, and we worked it out. I had some money saved from, you know, the movies, so we were able to rent the house. And mom will get insurance eventually, when we can figure it all out."

What could I say? I just sat there letting it all sink in. "Can I ask you why you just didn't get a GED and not have to deal with going to school with younger kids?"

Rose paused before answering. "I had never known a normal life, and I thought maybe I could have one. I wanted to have friends, gossip, sit in a classroom, go to prom. All that stuff." She rubbed her eyes. "I guess it was a dumb dream. I can't ever be normal, I guess."

"That's not true," I insisted, although at that moment, it kind of seemed true. There was an awkward pause, and I wanted to fill it. "How'd you pick your new name?" was all I could think of.

For the first time in a while, Rose smiled. "Mom thought of 'Hicks' because we were moving to a 'hick town'—no offense intended,' she quickly added.

"None taken," I said, because she was pretty much right.

"And 'Rose' because they are pretty and pure, but are strong and can protect themselves," she finished.

"I think that is a good name," I said, and I meant it. I realized, though, that there was more. "Rose, Sam wants to write about you in the school paper."

I could feel her stiffen up. "If the word gets out, I'll be found, and they will come for me and Mom."

"I can talk to Sam, but I don't know if it will do any good. He thinks that he is a fucking crusading reporter."

"Then I have to talk to him and convince him to keep quiet."

"Are you sure?"

She took a deep breath. "I am. I have to be."

We sat there for a few minutes, and I could hear Rose breathing while she thought. She turned to look at me, and the next thing I knew, we were kissing.

If I thought that my kisses with Tessa at the party were good, and they were, this was another order of magnitude. Rose's lips were soft, her tongue firm, and she tasted indescribably delicious. It sent chills down my spine, caused my stomach to flip and my cock to get hard. But it lasted only a few seconds, before Rose bolted off of the bench and started running away. I was stunned, first by the passion of the kiss, then by its sudden end, and then by the sight of Rose tearing away as fast as her long legs could carry her. By the time I was able to move and start running as fast as I could, considering the hard on that I had, she had reached her car, and her tires squealed as she peeled away. I tried calling her, but it kept going to voicemail, so I decided to drive after her.

When I arrived at her house, Rose's car was in the driveway, but she was nowhere to be seen. I knocked, then banged, on the door until her mother answered.

"I need to speak with Rose," I demanded, out of breath.

She turned and stepped into the house, but left the door open. I walked in behind her.

"Rose, Dale is here to see you," she yelled up the stairs.

"Tell him to go away," came from upstairs.

"I'm not going anywhere," I yelled back. "We need to talk." There was no immediate response. I could hear footsteps, a door close, water run, a door open, and more footsteps, which stopped. After a few seconds, Rose came down the stairs, her eyes red-rimmed.

She looked at her mother and said, "Someone at school found out."

Mrs. Hicks, or Mrs. Rowland, to be accurate, deflated before my eyes and collapsed on the nearest chair.

"How?" she whispered.

I decided to respond. "One of my friends recognized Rose from, you know, the Internet."

Rose stood there as her mother asked, "And he told everyone?"

"No, actually, I think he only told me. But he is the editor of the school paper, and gave me until tomorrow before he goes public."

"Shit," Mrs. Hicks/Rowland said, sadly. "I guess we have to start packing, Rose."

"Wait. I've known Sam since preschool. He's not a bad guy. Give me a few hours." I had to think of a way to get Sam to sit on the story. I ran out of the house and got into my car. My first instinct was to call Larry and Albert, but I realized quickly that was a bad instinct. I had to get adults involved, and I had to start with my parents. Every once in a while, though, the kiss forced its way into my thoughts, but I had to shake my head and focus on the bigger issue.

Somehow, I had pulled into my driveway, despite the fact that I had no recollection of actually driving there from Rose's house. I ran into the house and was happy to see Mom working away in the kitchen on something that smelled incredible, and Dad watching a game.

"Mom, Dad, I need to talk to you."

I must have looked out of control, because they both said, "Dale, what's the matter," at pretty much the same time.

"Calm down," Dad said, moving from the couch to the kitchen table, and Mom quickly poured me a glass of water before sitting down.

"Are you O.K., honey?" Mom asked, a look of concern on her face.

"Um, oh, yeah, I'm fine, but I need your help." Mom glanced at Dad with a look that showed both concern and maybe a bit of pleasure that I had come to them. The said nothing, so I told them about Rose, at least a PG-13 or maybe a soft R version. I mean, I wasn't going to admit to the amount of porn that I watched, or say "blow job" to my mother, but I gave them the basics.

Dad looked up at the ceiling, pressing his fingertips together and then to his lips in his "thinking" look, which I sometimes found myself doing and said, "How can we stop Sam from going public? That's the immediate question."

I nodded.

Mom said, "But if Sam recognized her, then someone else is bound to. I mean, Sam can't be the only kid in this town who watches..."

Before she could finish, Dad jumped in, "or adult, for that matter." Mom shot Dad a look that made it clear that there would be a private discussion between them later.

I had never even considered that possibility. We could put out this fire, and another one could arise the next day, or week, or year. And if she moved, the same thing would just repeat itself. Not to mention, I would never have a chance for another kiss like that. But it wasn't about me, really, although it was quite a kiss. "What can we do?" I asked.

Mom asked me, "How did you get involved, anyway? I thought that you and Tessa Hill..."

"Rose and I are friends. Sam called me because he knew that. I'm just trying to help. Really." Dad smiled at me quickly, as if he really didn't buy that, but he said nothing.

"You're a good friend, then, Dale," Mom said.

Dad said, like he was working through an idea out loud, "You know, when you want a reporter to bury a story, you have to offer him something in exchange."

"But what do we have?" I asked. "We have nothing to trade that is juicier than a former underage porn star going to school with us."

"Actually, you do," Dad said, with a grin. "You have the former underage porn star."

Mom nodded, but I wasn't getting it. "I don't get it, Dad."

"Offer him an exclusive interview with Rose if he holds the story." Dad replied.

"I still don't get it. She wants to keep this a secret, not give an interview."

"No, just offer the interview, but only when Rose decides to go public."

Dad's strategy was beginning to make sense. "If she never goes public, then no interview, but if she has to go public, he gets the scoop."

"Do people still say 'scoop'?" Mom asked and Dad and I both shrugged. We both watched a lot of television.

Dad turned to me and said, "Call Rose. Tell her our idea. Ask her and her mother to come here so we can discuss it." I made the call, and Mom returned to the kitchen to prepare for guests.

* * *

About 20 minutes later, we were all in our living room, and Dad outlined his plan. Rose, who kept apologizing, thought it made sense. Her mother initially just wanted to pack up and move on, but Mom convinced her that Farston was a good a place as any to try to stick it out, and she ultimately relented. Dad suggested that we get Mr. Garner involved, and after everyone agreed, he called the principal and filled him in. A half hour later, we were on our way to a meeting at the school.

I could only imagine what happened at the Cruz house when Mr. G called. I mean, it is bad enough when the principal calls, but for him to call on a Sunday evening must have been a little unsettling. Especially since Sam's parents were kind of religious and conservative.

It was not an easy meeting. Mr. G laid out the facts, and Sam's parents were mighty unhappy with Sam's Internet porn viewing. Rose started crying and leaned her head on my shoulder, which drew some surprised looks from my parents. Sam insisted that he had the right to publish, and when Mr. G threatened to kick Sam off the paper, he threatened to post the story online. His parents were horrified at Sam's insistence on hurting Rose, but also took some shots at Rose's and her mother's "immorality." Mom and Dad tried to calm things down, and I sat there, my head spinning, and Rose bawling away on my shoulder.

Finally, though, and somewhat reluctantly, Sam agreed to the arrangement that he would tell no one, and that whenever Rose decided to go public, he would get an exclusive interview—even if it was after graduation. Mr. G also made it clear that everyone in the room, including me—maybe especially me—was sworn to silence. Mom and Dad offered to take everyone to Cookie's for dessert and coffee, but the Cruz's apparently had other, likely less delicious, plans for Sam, and Rose just wanted to go home.

We decided to just go home, too, and the car ride was pretty quiet, other than Dad playing with the radio and Mom busting his chops for playing with the radio. I sat in the back, with my eyes closed, trying to make sense of the whole situation.

Later that night, I was in bed, trying to sleep when my phone rang. It was Rose.

"Hi, Dale, I hope I didn't wake you."

"No, I'm awake."

"I wanted to thank you and your parents for today."

"No problem." The phone was silent.

"There's something else," Rose finally said.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. About our kiss."

The memory of it flooded back into my mind and I started to feel warm. "It's O.K., we can pretend it didn't happen."

"That's not what I meant. I wanted to kiss you. I'm glad I kissed you."

"Me too, then why did you run away?"

There was a long silence. I could hear Rose breathing on the phone. Finally she spoke, slowly. "You have been such a good friend to me, even before you knew. And when you told me that you knew, you did everything right. You are the first man I have allowed to kiss me—hell, actually the first man I've allowed to touch me—since I got away from those bastards."

"Oh," was all I could think to say. For a second, I thought it was cool that she called me a "man," but I guess I was, and I needed to focus.

"I like you, Dale. I like you a lot. But I can't see this working. You're a nice guy, and I'm this, you know, 'porn star'. I know that you have needs and wants, and I'm not sure I can let that happen. I'm not sure what would happen when we kissed again. Or if we went further. I might lose it again, like I did with Stan, and you deserve better."

I really didn't know how to respond, and before I could say anything, she continued. "Plus, if my location gets out, it could get dangerous for you, and I might have to disappear." She paused again. I could hear her take a deep breath and say, "No, Dale, you and I should just be just friends. You deserve a regular girlfriend, who can be there for you, and act like a girlfriend. You should go out with that cute girl from the party."

Before I could answer, she hung up. When I called her back, it went to voicemail.

Boy, my life had changed over that weekend. I went from girlfriendless and pretty much hopeless to having a cute sophomore basically throw herself at me, and a 21 year old ex porn star telling me that I was too good for her, after giving me the kiss of my lifetime. Of course, Rose made it clear that she wasn't currently interested in doing anything with me, while Tessa made it clear that she very much did. On the other hand, as pretty as Tessa was, I really didn't know her, or whether I even liked anything about her other than her apparent willingness to fuck me. Which, admittedly was a heavy weight on her side of the scale. But Rose was not only more beautiful, she was a real friend, and I knew that we got along, and that there was a real attraction. I mulled over the situation, turning it over and over in my mind, without really coming up with a solution.

* * *

The alarm rang, and I started my morning routine without thinking. But when I saw Mom and Dad, the past night popped back into my mind. I thanked Mom and Dad again for their help. When Dad and I were in the car, he said, "How involved are you with Rose?"

I've always found that honesty, or something damn close to it, has worked the best with my parents, so I said, "Really, we are only friends. Yesterday, when I told her that Sam knew about her past, and she was telling me the story, she kissed me, but last night she said it was a mistake," I rambled.

Dad nodded. "O.K. My advice, if you want it, is that you need to be careful around her. She is not like the other girls you know. She's had experiences that you can't even fathom. I don't want you to get hurt. So, be her friend, but be careful."

And that was Dad. He didn't lecture, he didn't set unenforceable rules. He told me what he thought, and he trusted me to do the right thing. I wished that I knew what the right thing was, though.

Rose was in her usual seat in homeroom, and I tried desperately to act like I had on Friday. Between second and third period, I saw Tessa, and she looked pissed when she saw me. We only had a few minutes, but she left her group of sophomores and came over to me. "Why didn't you call—or even text—me yesterday? I thought that we had something," she hissed.

"Something important came up."

"It better have been," she said, and turned to walk away. "Meet me at your car after school," she demanded before striding down the hall to catch up to her friends. I was not looking forward to that conversation. It gnawed at me all day, and Rose's smile when we passed in the hall only made it worse. Not to mention that it was killing me not to be able to say anything to Albert and Larry about the whole thing.

But I made it through the day, and was both looking forward to and dreading my "meeting" with Tessa. She was waiting by my car, leaning against the hood, looking good enough to eat. Her hair flowed in waves past her shoulders and her compact body strained against her clothing. Her cute face had a mix of innocence and mischief that frankly was nearly irresistible. When I reached the car, she pressed her body against me and brushed my lips with the hint of a kiss.

"Would you give me a ride home?" she asked, knowing the answer would be "yes." I nodded and opened her door, and as she slid into the passenger seat, I got a brief hint of her soft cleavage. I hurried to the driver's side of the car, and started to drive toward Tessa's house. She chattered away, as if we had been dating for months, and not maybe just starting some sort of relationship. I wasn't sure where this was going, and I kinda hoped that she suggested that we go anywhere other than her house, but after her reaction this morning, I was hesitant to push. When I pulled in front of her family's nice, white house, I wasn't sure if she was going to invite me in, so I sat there.




Thorny Rose Ch. 02



Tessa took off her seatbelt and leaned toward me, giving me another good look down her shirt, and she kissed me hard. We made out for a few seconds, and she placed my hand square on her firm breast before pulling away and getting out of the car. She leaned down and looked in the open window, yet again allowing me a full view of the space between her small breasts and said, "There's more where that came from, but you need to show me that you know how to treat me." Before I could answer, she turned, her hair swirling behind her, and I watched her cute little ass wiggle up the driveway and into the house.

I drove home, horny, frustrated and confused. It seemed like all I needed to do was to pay attention to Tessa, and I would get laid. But I have to admit, I didn't like the way she was teasing me and trying to control me. I knew it would only get worse if I committed, and I would find myself totally under her control. But, on the other hand, sex. Not only that, but I kept seeing Rose's face looking unhappy. Under normal circumstances, this situation would call for a session with Larry and Albert, some major video gaming, and by the time we were bored with the game, my problem would be solved. But I couldn't tell them, because I'd have to tell them about Rose.

I walked into my house, and Mom was sitting in the kitchen, drinking some iced coffee and reading a magazine.

"Hey Dale, how was school—everything quiet about Rose?"

"Yeah, it looks like it worked."

She took a sip from her ice coffee. "Everything else O.K.?"

I said, "Yeah," and started toward my room, before turning back toward her and saying, "actually, not really."

Mom closed her magazine and looked at me, her kind eyes looking at me with concern. "What's the matter, sweetie?"

I sat down and took a deep breath. Here goes nothing. "Um, I'm a little confused...."

"About?"

"You know, I'm not the most experienced guy, you know, with like girls." I paused and realized I had just jumped off a bridge, and there was no going back. To her credit, Mom just looked at me, waiting. "I mean, I've done stuff, but never, you know..."

"Never?"

I shook my head. Mom waited for me to continue, her face betraying nothing. "So, anyway, I think that Tessa is willing—"

"Wait," Mom interrupted. "Phil and Angela's Tessa? Isn't she like 15?"

"Sixteen, I think."

Mom looked at me, her eyes narrowed, "She's a child, Dale."

"Mom, from what I hear, I wouldn't be her first." She shook her head, and I continued, "You have to keep this between us. Please promise." Mom nodded.

"But, I don't know—"

"If you are ready?"

"No, I think I'm ready, you know, but there are a few things. First, I'm not sure I really like her that way, I mean she is really pretty and all, but I'd be worried that I was using her, you know." Mom smiled a little. "And also, she already is like bossing me around and stuff, and we aren't even doing anything." Mom closed her eyes and sort of shook her head. "And there's something, I mean, someone, else I really like."

"Rose?"

It was my turn to nod. "Yeah, and she told me she liked me, but was afraid that she couldn't be the kind of girlfriend I need now, because, you know, she had trouble being touched and all."

Mom took a deep breath and then sipped at her iced coffee. I watched the condensation drip down the glass as she sipped. It felt good to be able to say all of this out loud, and so far Mom hadn't freaked out, which was good.

Finally, Mom started to speak. "Dale, let me start by thanking you for coming to me for advice. I suspect it wasn't easy. Second, let me say that I'm proud of you for at least thinking this through. I would guess that most guys like you wouldn't have second thoughts if a pretty girl offered herself to you, even if you weren't sure about her. I can pretty much guarantee you, sweetie, that even if it isn't with Tessa—and I still think she is too young, by the way—that your time is bound to come soon. You are a nice guy, and smart, and funny, and handsome. And the right kind of girl will appreciate being treated with respect by you, and will not try to manipulate you. Now, you are a big boy—an adult—and you can do what you want, but I think that just the fact that you are having questions, should tell you what the answer is."

As she was saying it, I knew that she was right. As much as I was sick of being a virgin and wanted to fuck Tessa, I wasn't prepared for the rest of the deal. Maybe that is what growing up means. "Yeah, I think you are right, Mom."

She smiled at me, and I realized maybe for the first time, that Mom was a pretty good looking woman herself, and maybe went through some of this stuff when she was my age. She said, "But I also have to say that I have concerns about Rose and you."

"Me too," I said, "and not only because of the touching thing."

"What else?"

"The whole thing. I'm just a kid from a small town. Nothing has ever happened to me, and everything has happened to her. How does that work out?"

"I agree," Mom said. "I mean, you should be her friend, god knows that girl needs friends, but I'd be careful." She finished her coffee with an amusing slurp.

I stood up, and so did Mom. We stepped toward each other and hugged, her head pressing into my chest. "You are a good man, Dale."

"I had good role models." She squeezed me and pulled away. She turned toward the sink, and maybe I saw tears in her eyes, but I'm not sure.

* * *

The next day at school, I saw Tessa, and turned my face away when she tried to kiss my lips. She looked at me with fire in her dark brown eyes. "Seriously, Dale?"

"Yeah, Tessa, I, um, I just don't think it will work out with us."

For a second, there was a blank look on her face, as if she couldn't even contemplate that I would reject her. It quickly changed to a frown, before it turned into a look of scorn. She stuck her small, but prominent chest out, turned away and said, "Your loss, loser," before swaying down the hall, putting on a pretty good show for me and everyone else in the hall.

I'm not sure if I just made a huge mistake, but it felt right. But, from the look on Larry's face, he didn't agree. "What the fuck, dude?" he asked.

"I guess I'm not interested."

"Like I said, what the fuck? That girl is like a little package of sex, and you just casually blow her off?"

"Yeah, it's a long story," I muttered, and walked away, almost bumping right into Rose.

"Are you O.K., Dale?" she asked, looking concerned.

"Uh, yeah, I guess so. I'm late for class." I walked away and maybe I saw Rose smile, but I'm not sure.

* * *

Things fell back into their usual pattern. I went to school, went to my club meetings, studied English with Rose, and no more cute girls offered to have sex with me. And my relationship with Rose went no further than the friends that we had become. In fact, as time went on, I found that she became one of my closest friends. We talked about pretty much everything, except for one, big thing. When I became comfortable enough to complain to her about my decision to reject Tessa, in light of my continued virginity, she reassured me that I had made the right decision, and like my Mom, was adamant that it was the kind of decision that the right woman would appreciate at the right time. Which was nice and all, but wasn't getting me laid.

For her part, Rose occasionally dropped some references to her past life, but they were vague and fleeting—usually when something that came up in something we were reading in English class, or some movie or show we were watching reminded her of something. Occasionally, she would start crying, and she would let me hold her and comfort her, but no more. Or she would run off to her room, and I would sit awkwardly until it was clear that she wasn't coming back, and I would go home.

I was frustrated, though, and found myself spending more time online watching porn, and while I thought about it occasionally, I never watched any Aubrey Angel videos. I wanted the real thing, and she was so close, I could almost taste it, but it seemed like it would never happen.

* * *

The weather turned cold, and I was focused on college applications and my schoolwork. I was hanging out with my old friends, although Larry had a girlfriend for a while, and with Rose, just treading water. There were a few times that it seemed like girls were flirting with me a little, but I was never attracted to any of them. My drought continued.

A few days before Christmas, I was doing my usual late shopping at the mall, when I got a text from Rose, "Pls give me a call."

I went to a quiet corner of the teeming shopping center and called, not sure what was going on.

"Dale?" she said in her quiet voice.

"Yeah, Rose. Everything O.K.? I'm at the mall," I added for no particular reason.

"Oh. Sorry to bother you..."

"It's no bother."

"Um, my mom is going to visit some relatives over Christmas, and I was wondering if you would like to come by at some point and hang out."

"Sure. But if you are going to be alone for Christmas, why don't I ask my parents if you can join us."

She paused. "No, that's O.K. I don't want to intrude."

"It's really no big deal—it is just the three of us, and my grandma."

"I really appreciate it, Dale, but honestly, I'd rather just have some quiet time alone. And I would like to spend some time alone with you here, if that's O.K."

"Um, sure, um, how about Christmas Day night—we eat an early dinner and then just sit around. I can probably get away."

"That sounds great, Dale. See you then."

I started walking back toward the stores, when I stopped short, causing the person behind me to bump into my back. After an exchange of apologies, I stood in the middle of the crowd of crazed shoppers pondering Rose's statement that she wanted to spend time alone with me. And what exactly that might mean. I also realized that I needed to buy her some sort of gift, and began to wonder what you buy for someone like Rose.

* * *

Usually, I liked my family's Christmas. It was low-key, and more about family than gifts. Ever since I was old enough to stop demanding the dumb stuff that kids want, we all exchanged fun, sometimes meaningful, gifts, sat around, watched movies and ate. Unfortunately, I was down to only one living grandparent, and my aunts and uncles all lived too far away for a big family get together, but I really appreciated the generally peaceful time. This year, though, all I wanted to do was to go over to Rose's house, and my Mom gave me an early release. I mean, for all I knew, it was just going to be like our usual hanging out, watching movies and talking. But I kept going over in my mind what she said on the phone. Did she emphasize the word "alone?" or "with you?" Or was I reading too much into it? She had, in all other respects never shown me any change in her reluctance to have any sort of physical relationship with me.

But, it was time to find out. I brushed my teeth, combed my hair and grabbed the small wrapped gift before saying goodbye to my family and heading to Rose's house.

When I got there, she was wearing what I guess would be called a "little black dress" that hugged her curves. It was sexy without being slutty, and it took my breath away. Her hair was not in its usual pony tail and framed her beautiful face, which seemed to have some more makeup than usual, but not too much. She was stunning, and she smiled at what must have been the dumb look on my face.

"I guess you like me done up a little more than usual."

I struggled to say, "You, um, you look amazing."

"Thanks," she said, and performed a little mock curtsey.

I saw a bottle of wine on the table, and one half filled glass and one empty, in front of a small, artificial Christmas tree, lit up and covered in tinsel.

"Would you like some wine?"

"Sure." We had actually never drunk together. I knew that she was old enough to buy booze, but never asked her to get me any, and she never offered. I was not a big drinker, but had the occasional drink at parties, and some wine occasionally with my parents. She poured me a glass, and I noted that the bottle was only about half full, so she was already at least a glass ahead of me.

We moved to the couch and she asked about my Christmas, and I told her.

"That sounds nice," she said. "I never really remember a nice Christmas, I guess," she said. I decided to stay quiet and let her talk. "I never knew my father, and mom had a bunch of boyfriends, and they used to drink a lot." She paused. "And you know how that worked out." Her beautiful blue eyes started to tear up, but she squared her shoulders, which had the effect of causing her breasts to jut out toward me, before saying, "but that's not what I want to talk about today. It's fucking Christmas." She took a long drink from her wine.

Rose turned to me, and surprisingly took my hands and looked in my eyes. "What I want to say is that I think I might be ready to take our friendship to a new level, um, if you know, you are interested."

I must have looked stunned, because Rose laughed. And then I felt the heat crawling up my neck, meaning that I was probably turning red. I tried to say something, but before I could, Rose leaned in and gently touched her lips to mine. It felt exactly perfect, and we just lingered there, not pressing forward or doing anything else. She pulled back slightly, and I wondered if she was about to go running off, like she did that time in the park. But instead she smiled.

"That was good," she said, sounding both surprised and pleased. She leaned forward again, and this time, kissed me harder, slipping her tongue into my mouth. I pulled her close to me on the couch, and we just kissed and held each other. I had no idea how far she was willing to go, and the last think I wanted to do was to blow this by pushing her past her limits. That all being said, I was harder than I ever remembered being, and it was pretty uncomfortable.

Rose detached herself from me, and looked at me and she looked happy. "Thanks, Dale."

I had no idea why she was thanking me. "No, Rose, thank you."

"No, Dale, I've wanted to do that again since that day in the park, you know, but I couldn't. It's taken me this long, and lots of therapy. And maybe half a bottle of wine, but I did it, and I feel good."

I smiled, hoping for more. But instead, she said, "Dale, remember when I told you that I wasn't the right person to be your girlfriend."

"I guess," I said, which was a lie, since I had gone over that conversation in my head so many times that I could probably recite it word for word, with all of the appropriate inflections and body language.

"I'm still not sure if I'm being fair to you, but if you are willing, and are willing to take things slowly, I'd like you to consider, you know, being together."

"Yes." I didn't need to think things over. "Absolutely, yes."

"I mean, I'm not ready to do—"

I interrupted, "I don't care. I like you, and I don't care about that stuff. I can go as slow as you want. But I have to ask you, why me? I mean, I'm just a regular guy, I'm younger than you, I have no experience at all, and I'm not the best looking guy in the world."

Rose paused before answering. "First, you underestimate how good looking you are, but that isn't the most important thing. I remember that first day, how you were friendly with me, polite, not trying any moves on me. I just got a sense that you were a genuine guy. And after that, you were always friendly, nice, respectful and helpful, and even though I could tell that you liked me, you didn't press me. You were, really, the first true friend I had made in like forever, who didn't seem to want anything from me other than friendship. The way you handled finding out about my, uh, past was incredible. From keeping Sam quiet, to getting your parents involved, and then the school. I realized that I really liked you, too, and that I could trust you....."

Her eyes filled with tears again, and she slid closer to me and rested her head on my chest, while I stroked her hair and rubbed her shoulder. We sat there for a long time, just like that, and I loved the way she felt against me. The most I did was run my hand down her side, as far as I could reach, which was roughly her hip, and she didn't seem to mind.

Rose turned, gave me a quick sweet kiss, and said, "It's Christmas—I have a gift for you." She got up and went out of the room, returning with a small, wrapped package. I went over and got my gift for Rose and handed it to her. "You first," she said.

I opened the package, and it was a copy of 1984, a hard cover copy with a green cover. It looked old. "It's a first edition," she said.

I was dumbfounded. "That must have cost---"

"Don't worry, it's O.K."

"It makes my gift look pretty lame," I said as she opened the box, revealing the small, silver rose necklace.

"It's beautiful," she said, and actually seemed sincere. "I love it. Please put it on me."

She handed me the necklace and turned around and held her hair up. I opened the clasp and put the chain around her elegant neck, inhaling her scent. After I closed the clasp, she let her hair down and pressed herself against me, causing my apparently permanently erect cock to press against her ass. I hugged her from behind and nuzzled her neck. I was about as happy as I could have imagined. I couldn't resist, and I reached up to cup her breasts, briefly feeling their weight and the hardness of her nipples when Rose pulled away from me.

"I'm not ready for that, yet," she yelled, her eyes wild like a cornered animal. I looked at the clock on the wall, and saw that it was nearly 1 a.m. "I think you should go. I'm sorry."

I was pretty sorry too, for lots of reasons, and just nodded. She even stepped back when I tried to kiss her goodbye. I gathered my stuff and drove home. I was very frustrated, and went over the night in my head as I drove. I decided to focus on the incredible kissing, my brief memory of the feel of her breasts in my hand. And the fact that she said that she was not ready, "yet." "Yet" is a word that gives a desperate man hope. Luckily, when I got home everyone in my house was asleep, so I'm pretty sure that no one heard me jerk off.

* * *

The next morning, when I came downstairs, Mom was making eggs, and bacon was frying. Dad was sitting at the table, drinking coffee and eating breakfast. Mom poured me a mug, and asked, "So, how did it go last night."

"Well," I said. "We had some wine, we talked, and exchanged gifts." All of that was true, but I knew it wasn't what she wanted to hear. I kind of hoped that she would let me move on, but I didn't expect it. And I was right.

"That sounds nice," she said. Then paused. She looked hard at me. "That's all?"

I knew that if I tried to evade her, she would, in her subtle, loving and insistent way, try to worm more information out of me. So, I figured that I'd let her know what happened. "Actually, Mom, Rose said that she wanted to have a relationship with me, you know," I faltered, and could see Mom and Dad glance at each other.

Dad put down the paper, "How do you feel about that?"

"Good, I think, yeah, really good. I mean, I really like her, and all."

Mom fixed her gaze on me. "Did you and Rose—"

Before she could finish, I interrupted. "No, Mom, we didn't, although that really is kinda private. But she is still having issues with being touched, so I don't think that you have anything to worry about." I felt myself getting a little annoyed, but I knew that she meant well. Even so, I didn't want to talk about it anymore, so I went off to my room to sulk and think.

* * *

As New Year's approached, Rose and I spoke, had a couple of coffees, but other than a kiss hello and goodbye, it seemed like things had taken a step backwards physically. She was pleasant, usually, but nothing more than that, and I wondered how much of what she had said at Christmas was the wine talking. I took out my frustration on my college applications and parents, hung out with Albert and Larry and watched movies with my parents at night. I kind of assumed that Rose and I would do something on New Year's Eve, but we never discussed it.




Thorny Rose Ch. 02



Finally, we agreed to go out to dinner at a nice restaurant in a couple of towns away, but because I was still underage, we couldn't go to any bars, which was fine with me. They all sounded too expensive, and dumb. I heard about a few local parties, being thrown by the kids at school, and Rose and I decided to go to the one at Erika's. I knew pretty much who would be at which party, and what would happen, so I was less than excited about the prospects. Rose's mother was going to return from her trip on New Year's Eve day, and was going to be home, and my parents, like every New Year's, were planning to cook dinner and watch movies until they fell asleep on the couch with a half-full bottle of cheap champagne.

I got dressed up, drove over to Rose's house, picked her up and we drove over to Raoul's. She looked incredible, of course. She was wearing a dress that flattered her—it was classy and sexy at the same time, and she was wearing the rose pendant that I gave her, and it was sitting just inside her ample cleavage. She gave me a great kiss and hug, and it truly felt amazing to be enveloped in her arms, pressing against that body.

"Where's your mom?" I asked, figuring I should be polite and wish her a Happy New Year.

Rose gave me a smile. "She called me this morning and said that she had decided to stay in Atlanta. She was actually having fun, and had been invited to a big party. I told her not to worry." She smiled and licked her lips, and I almost melted. "So, after the parties, we can come back here, and you know, hang out."

This definitely sounded promising. Of course, I couldn't predict how Rose would react, but I heard something in her voice that made me think that tonight might be the night that I finally lost my virginity. Or, I could end up frustrated yet again. This was what I had signed up for, and I had every hope that it was going to be worth it.

It was sad when Rose put on her winter coat, because I couldn't see her body any more, but the car was dark anyway, and I could still see it in my imagination, and that, along with the car heater, helped keep me warm. We made small talk as we drove, and I was happy that she took my hand and held it as I navigated the roads between Farston and Millersville.

Raoul's was a former speakeasy that had, for many years, been the rare French restaurant in our part of the world. My parents had taken me there a couple of times, and to my taste, it was damn good, although I knew that I didn't really have any kind of frame of reference. My dad was nice enough to slip me a few bucks before I left—I had enough to pay for it, but it was a nice thing for him to do. And yet, as good as the meal was, I really don't remember the details all that much, because Rose was so beautiful that I focused more on her than on what we ate. She seemed even happy as we chattered about this and that, and I felt like maybe she was comfortable.

After I paid the bill—and refused Rose's offer to pay for half—we got back into the car and drove back to Farston. We held hands again, and soon we were at the fairly large house of Erika Fletcher's family. Of course, we knew everyone, and it was like pretty much every high school party, except people were dressed better. It was funny how dressing up, and the fact that it was New Year's made everyone behave differently, like we were pretending to be grownups, but really didn't know what to do. There was food, and music, and some booze, but this crowd tried hard to keep it together. And at midnight, we popped open some sparkling something, and Rose clung to me while we kissed, along with a bunch of other couples.

It was time to head back to Rose's house, and I was nervous but excited, and definitely hopeful. She had been incredibly affectionate all night, and we had a couple of pretty intense makeout sessions beyond the midnight kiss. I tried to hold it together, even though I was close to vibrating with nerves, as we drove to her house. I was nervous that it might happen, and nervous that it wouldn't. And if it did, whether I would do well enough. Rose's past was more than a little intimidating, but I tried to block it out. She was gripping my hand tightly when we started, and I moved it to her firm, smooth thigh about halfway to her house. But just after we turned on to her street, she slammed her hand down on my somewhat straying hand and yelled, "Fuck—Dale—stop the car now."

I was startled, and jammed on the brakes. All I could think of was that I had done something with my hand to set her off, and started to get resigned to another night of virginity. "Sorry," I said, and put my right hand back on the wheel.

"No, Dale. Look, don't stop at my house. Just drive past and keep going."

I had no clue what the hell was going on, but I did what she said, and was shocked when she undid her seatbelt and scrunched down in her seat. Now, I'm not going to lie and say that the idea of Rose going down on me in my car never occurred to me, but I do know that the look of fear on her face was never part of my fantasy. I drove, at a normal pace, past her house, and said, "Where to now? My house?"

"No, it's not safe. Just get to the highway and drive," she said, in an flat, empty voice.

I may not be a genius, but I knew enough to follow her directions without question. I drove the car through the quiet streets until I got to Route 52, and took that to the interstate. It was only after I merged into traffic, that Rose got up, adjusted herself under her coat, and fastened her seatbelt.

"Um, Rose, what's going on?"

Her eyes were wild. "They're here. They fucking found me. How the fuck..." her voice trailed off, and she began to cry, her body wracked with sobs. In the highway lights, I could see her mascara begin to run down her beautiful face, her hair beginning to become undone.

"How—"

"I saw one of the assholes sitting in the car, watching the house. As your headlights lit up the car, I saw his face. Plain as day."

"Are you sure?" I asked quietly.

"Of course, I'm fucking sure," she snapped, "I could never forget that face. Ever."

"We need to call my parents and call the police."

Rose nodded. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone and dialed home. My father answered, a bit groggily.

"Dad, it's me."

"Hey, is everything alright?"

"No. We're O.K., but when I was taking Rose home," he didn't need to know every detail, "she thinks she saw one of the guys, you know, from before, um, staking out her house. So we are driving away."

"Shit," he said, more alertly. "Where are you?"

I looked at the road signs and told him.

"O.K., Dale, get off the highway at Brownlee and go to the Quality Inn right off the highway and get a room. Register in your name. Do you have money?"

"Uh, I think so."

"Use the emergency credit card. I think this qualifies."

"Thanks, Dad."

"Dale, is she sure, or just being paranoid?"

I was glad that the phone wasn't on speaker. I looked at Rose's red, puffy, scared face. "Yeah, Dad, she's sure."

"Dale, give the phone to Rose." I handed her the phone, and could hear only her side of the conversation.

"Yes, Mr. Bennett. Sure, Carl. Yes, I'm sure. His name is Jake Young. Dark hair, goatee. About 6 feet tall, maybe 220, muscles. Tattoo of a snarling dog on his right buttock."

I didn't really want to know how she knew that. I kept driving as Rose spoke to my Dad.

"Yes. Yes. She stayed in Atlanta. No. Sure. Thank you, Mr. Benn-Carl. Yeah, you too."

She handed me the phone. Dad's voice crackled in my ear, "Dale—you get settled in, and I'll call the police."

"Thanks, Dad. I'm sorry to get you involved."

"Don't worry. Just get off the road."

"I will."

"Dale?"

"Yeah, Dad?"

"Happy New Year. And we love you."

I felt like I was about to cry. "Happy New Year to you and Mom. And I love you, too."

I ended the call and put the phone back in my pocket. The exit for Brownlee was coming up, and I could see the lit up sign for the Quality Inn just past the exit.

Rose was quiet. She had taken out a compact and was touching up her makeup. When she was done, she took my hand as I signaled and exited the highway. As we drove toward the entrance, Rose took her phone and made a call. I could hear the phone ring, and go to voice mail. When it beeped, she said, "Mom, it's me. Call me right away." She stared at the phone before ending the call and stuck the phone back into her purse.

By that time, we had pulled into the parking lot. I was a little nervous, I mean, I had never checked into a hotel by myself, much less with a woman, and definitely had never found myself hiding from dangerous thugs, who, for all I know, were following me. On the other hand, I kind of felt good about taking control of the situation, and so I pretended to be confident as we got out of the car. It was cold, and the wind was swirling in the parking lot. A few snow flurries wheeled around in the harsh lights. Rose pulled her coat tightly around her body and she looked at me, I think for reassurance.

"Everything will be fine," I said, although I had no basis for that confident statement. "Let's get inside and out of the cold."

She nodded and took my offered hand as we walked into the lobby. As we walked, I tried out a few opening lines to the desk clerk to see what made sense, but when we got there, the guy behind the counter, who looked only a couple of years older than me, just said, in a bored tone of voice, "Do you need a room?"

"Uh, yeah, one night, please."

He looked at Rose, then at me, and I could see a look of respect, "King bed, no smoking?"

"Yeah, that's fine."

"It'll be $129, plus tax. ID and credit card, please."

I handed him my driver's license and Dad's credit card. I waited for there to be a problem, but he swiped the card, and typed my information into his computer.

"Two room cards?"

"Sure, thanks."

He swiped two cards, and passed me back a little folder with them, along with my license and the credit card. "You're in room 187, just down that hall," he pointed to his left. "Have a good evening," he said, with a bit of a lascivious smile, "and Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year," I replied.

We walked down the hallway toward the room. I put one of the cards into the slot, and after the little light turned green, I pushed the door in and turned on the light. The room was pretty much what you'd expect from a roadside Quality Inn in the middle of nowhere. Big bed, TV, dresser, a chair. It was warm in the room, and when Rose took off her coat, I got even warmer.

I took off my coat, and tossed it on the chair.

Rose came running over to me, and enveloped me in a hug.

"Thank you, Dale."

"I haven't done anything, really."

"You've been there for me from the start. And tonight, you've been so smart and strong."

I had immediately reacted as could be expected when she hugged me, and I felt my hard cock pressing against Rose's leg. She kissed me, and for a while, I kind of forgot where I was. After a bit, she pulled away. "I have to go to the bathroom." She kicked off her heels and walked in the bathroom. I didn't know what to do with myself. I walked around the small room. I turned on the TV. I read the little signs that they put in the room. I turned off the TV. The toilet flushed, and Rose came out. She had washed much of the makeup off her face, and pulled her hair back into a ponytail, like when I first met her. She looked great, of course, and she smiled at me.

"What?" I asked.

"You look so uncomfortable," she said, smiling. Rose walked toward the bed and sat on the end. "Take off your shoes and sit." She patted the bed next to her.

Of course, I did what she asked, and she leaned her head on my shoulder. We sat there quietly. We both jumped when my phone rang. I leaped up and grabbed it and saw that my Dad was calling.

"Dad?"

"Yeah, Dale, it's me. You O.K.?"

"Yeah. We checked in and are here."

"Good. Look, the cops arrested four pretty badass guys who were staking out Rose's house. I think you guys are safe now." I repeated that to Rose, and I could almost see the tension and fear drain from her face and body.

"That's amazing. Thanks, Dad." I looked over and Rose was smiling.

"You guys can come home."

I turned to Rose and said, "Dad says we can come home." I was surprised when she shook her head.

"I'd rather stay here tonight, if that's O.K. with you."

It was. "Dad, we're beat, and I think we just want to crash."

"Uh, sure, Dale. See you tomorrow, then." I thought I sensed a bit of a chuckle in his voice. "The police will want to speak with both of you tomorrow," he added.

"O.K. Dad. I'll call you in the morning. Happy New Year to you and Mom."

"And to you and Rose." He hung up.



Thorny Rose Ch. 03



The conclusion to the story. In chapter 2, Dale and Rose escape danger, but more problems are just around the corner. But there is good stuff, too.

*

I put the phone down and walked back to the bed. I stood next to Rose, and said, "That's great news."

She smiled and nodded, then stood up. I watched her walk across the room to the desk, and she reached into her purse and pulled out her phone. She looked at it, shook her head, then made a call. Again, it rang and when to voice mail. "Mom, please call me. Don't worry about the time. Please." She looked at the phone as if she could will it to ring.

"I'm worried about my mother, Dale."

"I'm sure she's sleeping and will call in the morning."

"Yeah, it is late. I guess you're right."

She turned toward the bathroom and went back in. I heard the shower start, and so I turned on the TV. It was after 3 a.m., so not much was on, and I was flipping around, when I heard the water stop. A few minutes later, Rose came out of the bathroom, a towel barely covering her body from the top of her breasts to the top of her thighs. "That felt great—do you want to take one?

"Uh, yeah, sure, I guess."

She smiled at my awkwardness, and moved away from the bathroom door into the room. I walked past her, smelling the soap and shampoo, and looking at her beautiful face. The bathroom was warm, steamy and the mirror was fogged up, except for a small area that Rose apparently cleared. I started the shower and undressed. I was rock hard, even as tired as I was. Thinking about Rose, in the towel, and what was under the towel made me crazy. I stepped gingerly into the hot water, adjusted the temperature and plunged in. The water felt great, and as it poured over my body, I began to relax, not having realized how tense I was. By the time I had soaped up and shampooed, I had lost my erection, and I stepped out of the shower, turned off the water and found a couple of towels to dry off.

The towel barely fit around my waist—I guess that is what you get a budget hotel, and my left leg was essentially bare. I put the other towel over my shoulders and left the bathroom, feeling the comparatively cooler air. Rose had turned off all of the lights, except for one bedside lamp, and I could see her, in the bed, under the covers, which were pulled up to her neck. Her eyes were open, and she was looking at me.

From under the blanket, her unseen hand pulled the covers back from the other side of the bed. "Come on in," she said softly.

"Let me go put on my underwear," I said a bit nervously, and turned toward the bathroom.

"Don't bother. I'm not wearing any."

I froze, turned back and felt the towel rise. "Uh, sure, O.K.," I mumbled, and walked to the side of the bed before letting the towels drop to the floor. I slid under the covers, and bumped her soft, naked arm. "Sorry," I whispered.

"Nothing to apologize for, Dale. Would you hold me?"

It wasn't a difficult decision at all. I slid in the bed toward Rose, and she cuddled next to me. To say that it didn't feel good to have her naked in bed with me would be maybe the biggest lie I ever told. Of course, as I lay there, stroking her soft curves, I got aroused, and turned to kiss her. In return, I received an incredibly tender kiss, one that made me want to kiss her more and more, and as I did, the kisses became even more passionate.

It seemed like it was getting hotter and hotter under the covers, and I could feel her firm breasts pressing against my chest. My cock was like the proverbial steel rod, and I felt myself rising up and turning, pressing Rose under me against the pillows on the large bed. My left hand reached for her right breast, and found its mark. I could feel her hard nipple against my hand, and was encouraged by the small sound, like a gasp or a sigh, that came from her mouth when I touched it. Emboldened, I bent my head down to take that nipple into my mouth, and this time got a moan from Rose.

I worked my tongue over her nipple and around her areola and felt Rose's hips begin to wriggle.

And then, before I knew it, she turned away from me, and in the dark, ran into the bathroom.

I was pissed. I thought I had done everything right, I thought I had read the signs correctly, and things were going great, and then she ran again, just when things were getting good. I was really tired of being the patient, good guy. I had been doing that for months, and all it had gotten me was frustrated, not to mention in a situation where my supposed girlfriend was being chased by dangerous thugs. It was time for me to stand up for myself and let the chips fall where they may.

Rolling out of the bed, I turned the bedside lamp on, so that I could see where I was going. I crossed the room to the bathroom and knocked. "Rose, we need to talk," I demanded.

There was no response. I tried again. "Rose, what is going on? Let me come in."

After a second she replied, "It's open."

I opened the door, and Rose was sitting on the closed toilet, slumped down, her hair covering her face, her breasts hanging down. She was crying. It would have been easy for me to simply be sympathetic, as I had been, but I was tired of being that guy.

"Why did you get out of bed?" I asked.

She looked at me with red rimmed eyes. "You know."

"No, I don't know anymore. Is it me? Do you not want me, because god knows I want you."

She paused. "I do, but I can't. I just can't."

"Why not? I'm your friend. I'm here for you. I wouldn't hurt you. You have to know that."

Rose looked up at me from the toilet, and used her hand to brush her hair out of her eyes. I almost didn't look at her breasts, but of course, I did because they were amazing, then looked at her face. She smiled, wanly. "I know, Dale. I know you wouldn't ever hurt me. But I've been hurt so badly, I'm not sure that I'm right for you."

A better man might have been able to control himself, maybe a mature man. Or maybe someone other than a horny virgin staring at a naked goddess that he probably loved. But I finally lost it. "Stop fucking trying to protect me from you, Rose," I yelled. "I'm sick of it. We've been friends for a long time— I mean, you're probably my closest friend now. And I think I'm in love with you, but all you do is tease me and then run away. I can't take it anymore. I want to be with you. I don't care about your past. As far as I'm concerned that is over and done with. I'm willing to take a leap of faith, and I need to you do the same. Or whatever we have is done, because I can't keep doing this." I just stared at her as I felt the adrenalin rush ebb, and I became bone tired. Not to mentions shocked that I actually said all of that.

Rose looked up, and I could see that she was crying, but not the convulsing sobbing that I had seen when I first came into the bathroom. She was just looking at me, and tears were streaming down her cheeks, dripping off her chin, and yes, onto those breasts.

She stood up, and again, I had before me a completely nude, incredibly hot woman who I had just screamed at. "Dale, I think I love you too," she whispered. "And I'm sorry for being such a terrible girlfriend. And a terrible friend. Will you let me make it up to you?"

Before I knew it, she was on her knees on the tiled floor, and my cock was in her warm mouth. It was not the way I expected to get my first blowjob from Rose, but I wasn't complaining. And while I was far from an expert on blowjobs, I was pretty confident that she was. The way she varied speed, and held onto my shaft, while using her tongue, was literally mind blowing, and it was not too long before my knees started to feel weak, and I knew that the end was near.

"Rose, I'm going to cum," I announced, because I understood from somewhere that was the polite thing to do, and when she kept going and nodded her head, I let fly a load that did not seem to end. Rose, former professional that she was, I guess, was able to swallow it all without any problems. And when she was done, she stood up and pressed herself against me.

"That was—" I started to say, but she smashed her lips against me and passionately began kissing me. The taste of my own cum, I guess, was a bit odd, but the kiss and the body against me were a sufficient distraction, and before long, I felt my cock begin to rise again.

Rose pulled away from me, took my hand and led me out of the bathroom toward the bed.

Before we got into the bed, she again reached around me and enveloped me in a hug, resting her head against my chest. It felt almost like she was, for the first time, completely letting her guard down with me. We fell into the bed and were making out, with the light on, and it felt incredible. I felt like Rose was no longer holding back, and I felt myself focusing only on her. Her taste. Her smell. Her feel. The noises that she was making.

Somehow, and I really couldn't say how, I found myself on top of her, and I began to kiss her soft, warm neck. I was clearly doing something right, as she was sensually moving her head back and forth, exposing different spots for my attention, and making almost a purring sound. I was, therefore, encouraged to move down her throat, kissing the top of her cleavage, where the rose necklace was still wedged. From there, I moved slowly down her perfect right breast, and in the light of the single lamp, I could see the hard nipple and puckered areola that I had only felt earlier. When I sucked her nipple, while squeezing her other breast, Rose's head snapped back, her hips pushed up against my throbbing cock and she gasped.

That I could give this woman what appeared to be so much pleasure turned me on, and I couldn't wait any longer to give her more. I quickly kissed my way down her flat stomach to her crotch. Unlike when I had seen her videos, she wasn't bare, but instead had a trimmed full bush. The only other pussy I had ever seen live was Julia Ventura's and she had a landing strip, but I only got a quick look at it. I buried my face into her, and was overcome by the smell, and I mean that in a good way. I know that everyone uses the word "musky" to describe that smell, and I guess that is what it is, but to me Rose's smell was just right. I could see her lips, and when I bent down to kiss them, it was clear that she was already pretty wet. I had never done this before, but, of course, I watched porn, so I tried to lick and kiss her in the right way. Rose tried to help me by moving her hips and my head, until I found what was probably her clit, because when I licked the spot for the first time, her hips bucked against my face and she let out a little yelp.

So, I focused on that spot, but also the area around it, and when I stuck my tongue deep inside, my face was drenched with her juices. Rose pulled my head up, and directed it toward her clit, and I attacked it, causing her to buck faster and faster. I was like a man possessed, kissing, nibbling and licking, while her hips were bouncing off the bed, faster and faster. Somehow, I was able to stick a finger inside her slippery hole, and between that, and my tongue, Rose screamed once, then yelled my name, but I kept going. I wanted to show her that I cared about her pleasure, and after what felt like a second, smaller orgasm, she pulled my head away from her and started laughing. Softly at first, then harder, until she was almost convulsed.

I was confused, because I thought that maybe she was laughing at me, and when she came up for air, I guess she saw my concerned look.

"Oh, baby, that was amazing, Dale," she panted, trying to catch her breath.

"You're not laughing at—"

She interrupted, "Oh, god, no. I'm laughing because that was incredible, and sometimes after I cum, I mean, really cum, I get hysterical. Now, come here." She motioned up the bed, and I crawled up and lay next to her.

Of course, my cock was rock hard and throbbing, and Rose reached down and felt it. "We better do something about this, right?" she asked smiling, and before I knew it, I was on my back, and Rose was poised above me. She was, if possible, even more beautiful from this angle. Her face was flushed a bit, and her hair was kind of wild, sexy. Her strong shoulders led to her beautiful breasts, and from below, I could see their slight upward point. Then, a flat belly, the flare of her hips and inching closer to my pulsating cock, the golden thatch of her pussy hair, matted and wet. And when she slowly impaled herself on my rod, and I was inside her for the first time, inside any woman for the first time for that matter, I thought I could die happy.

She sat there, as if resting, and I felt her pussy squeeze my cock gently, and instead of what I expected, that she would lift herself up and drop back down, she ground herself against me, rotating her hips. It was exquisite, and clearly it was pressing her clit against me in a good way, because she threw her head back with abandon, increasing the speed of her grinding. Before too long, she began to mix in bouncing and thrusting with her hip motions, and I found my hips rising from the bed to meet her. And then, without warning, she leaned forward, pressing her tits against my chest, and fucking me fast and hard, then faster and harder until the two of us were pounding each other, thrusting as fast as we could.

At the point of greatest pleasure, I felt the pressure in my balls, and as I shot my load, I heard a voice that sounded like mine screaming, and then one that sounded like Rose's.

And then, there was calm and silence, except for our panting. Rose was collapsed on me, her head resting on my chest, her breasts pressing against my belly, and her legs between mine. There was nothing to say, and in any event, I couldn't speak. I lay there, listening to our breathing slow and coordinate, so that we were inhaling and exhaling at the same time, and feeling about as good as I could ever remember. About as good as I could have ever imagined.

* * *

I thought I heard something that sounded like my phone, but it seemed far away. Then closer. I opened my eyes, and for a second had no idea where I was. The hotel room's décor, though, brought me back to reality, but before I could move, the phone had stopped ringing. I realized that sometime after I fell asleep, Rose had rolled off of me and was sleeping on her side, facing away from me. The blanket was resting on her hip, and I admired the curve of her back and shoulders. I felt tired, but good, if a bit sore and sticky. "The phone," I thought to myself and tried to wriggle out of the bed without waking Rose, but it didn't work. She rolled onto her back, pulled the covers over her breasts, and looked at me with sleepy eyes, but with a smile.

"Everything O.K.?" she asked quietly.

I smiled broadly. "Couldn't be better." She smiled back. "My phone just rang. I should see who it is."

"Yeah, then hurry back." She gave me a look that made it clear that when I came back, we would not be talking, which was a pretty damn good incentive to hurry.

When I picked up my phone, I saw, not surprisingly, a missed call from my Dad, but no voice mail. "It was my Dad," I said, "I better call him back."

Rose nodded, but looked a bit disappointed. Which I kind of liked, but figured I should call my father. As the phone rang, Rose got out of bed and walked toward the bathroom. My eyes hungrily followed her naked body as it swayed across the room, but my admiration was interrupted by Dad's voice.

"Dale?" He sounded concerned.

"Yeah, Dad. What's up?"

"You haven't heard?"

Now, I was concerned. "Heard what?"

"About Rose's mother?"

"No. Nothing. What's going on?" I heard the shower running in the bathroom.

"She's, uh, in the hospital in Atlanta."

"What happened? Is she O.K.?" I asked, worried.

"Well, it turns out that the assholes who were chasing Rose found her because someone saw her mother in Atlanta. They beat her pretty badly, apparently, and she told them where Rose was."

"Holy shit! How bad is it?

"Pretty bad, I understand. They wouldn't tell me details, but apparently she is in a coma."

"Oh my god, Dad. I better tell Rose. She's in the shower."

"Really?" Dad asked with what was kind of inappropriate amusement under the circumstances.

"Uh, yeah."

"Look, Dale, I think you should tell her, then get back here right away, and we can talk to the police."

"That makes sense. We'll be home soon. Bye."

"Bye."

I disconnected the call, and walked to the bathroom. I definitely wasn't looking forward to this conversation. I knocked on the door, and Rose said, "Come on in," in a happy voice. Pushing open the door, I felt the steam from the shower and through the haze, I could see Rose, exquisitely naked, drying her hair.

Before she could say anything, I blurted, "Uh, Rose, I have some bad news."

She froze, and her smiling, relaxed face turned wary. "What. Tell me," she demanded.

"My Dad says that your mother is in the hospital. In Atlanta."

Rose started to gather her stuff from the bathroom. "What happened? Is she O.K.?"

"Well, it seems like the, you know, guys who came for you found her there, and beat her up to find out where you are. Dad says she's in bad shape, and we should go to my house right away, then talk to the police."

There was a scared look on Rose's face that I hoped never to see again, but it seemed like this wasn't ever going to be an easy ride. We quickly got dressed in last night's now completely inappropriate clothing, checked out of the hotel and drove, in silence, holding hands, to my house.

The upshot was that the bad guys had been captured, here and actually back in California where the guys who planned the attack were. The story was picked up by the press, although they didn't mention Rose's current name, or mine, so there was at least still some hope for privacy. We briefly spoke with the police, who came to the house, but Rose's mother was in bad shape, and of course she wanted to go. We were sitting in my living room, with my parents, when she used her phone to start booking a flight.

"Rose, I want to come with you," I said.

She shook her head. "There's no reason for you to get involved."

"I'm already involved. With this, and with you." I noticed my parents exchange a look. "I told you last night that I am here for you. And if anything, that's even more so now." Which led to another look between my parents. They were smart enough not to say anything. "Look, this may be hard, but it will be easier with a friend."

Rose looked me in the eyes, as if measuring me somehow. She nodded. "You're right," she said softly, and smiled at me. "You're right," she repeated, almost as if she were trying to convince herself. The next half hour was filled with getting tickets and packing, then my parents drove us to Rose's house, so she could change and pack. We drove her car on the pretty long drive to the airport, checked in, and in short order we were on our way to Atlanta. The plane was filled with what looked like tired people recovering from the New Year's weekend. I was sitting on the aisle, and Rose was wedged into the middle seat, next to a 50-ish, bald businessman who tried to work during the flight. Not long after we took off, Rose leaned her head onto my shoulder and fell asleep, and I followed not to long after, enjoying the smell of Rose's hair.

The next thing I knew, I was being shaken awake, and sort of in a daze, got off the plane, and found myself in a cab, with Rose driving through the dark, cool, unfamiliar streets toward a hospital. We entered the generic looking building, with its drooping holiday decorations and Rose asked for her mother by her assumed name. There was no record of her, so Rose tried her real name, and then we were directed to the 9th floor ICU. Hearing that phrase made Rose's face look even more concerned, which made sense, and we silently rolled our carryon bags to the elevator, out the elevator, down the hall past rooms and nurse's stations until we found the room.




Thorny Rose Ch. 03



But before we could enter, we were intercepted by an older man drinking a cup of coffee who identified himself as Detective Bayliss. While we exchanged awkward pleasantries, a young doctor arrived, and introduced himself to Rose as Doctor Coulson. He told Rose, who introduced herself with her real name, that her mother was in pretty bad shape, and not to be surprised by her bruising and the tubes that she would see. Detective Bayliss said that he wanted to talk to Rose and me, but would wait while she saw her mother.

We went in, and even after the doctor's warning, it was a shock, and Rose's knee's buckled. Luckily, I was behind her and was able to hold her up. Mrs. Hicks—or Rowland—looked scary. Her face was various shades of red, black and purple, and swollen almost beyond recognition. She had a ventilator in her mouth and tons of tubes running from her arms into various bags and stuff.

"Can she hear me?" Rose whispered to Dr. Coulson.

"Probably not, but we don't know, really."

Rose pulled a chair over to her mother's bedside, sat down, and took her mother's hand. She just sat there for a few minutes. I was standing, still in my coat, not exactly sure what to do. After a bit, Rose, who was crying, started saying, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," over and over again, ultimately resting her forehead on her mother's hand. Her mother didn't move at all. The only sounds were the ventilator, the monitors and Rose's sobbing. I just stood still, then walked over behind Rose and put my hand on her shoulder. After a bit, I started to stroke her hair, but she didn't react.

Dr. Coulson cleared his throat, and at that noise, Rose looked up. "I think it would make sense for you to get some rest and come back in the morning."

Rose nodded, and stood up, shakily. I grabbed her elbow to help support her, and she walked, unsteadily out of the room. I released her arm as she steadied, and grabbed the handles of our bags, and rolled them out behind me. Waiting was Detective Bayliss.

"Can we talk now?" he asked in a comforting tone.

Rose nodded, and he led us down the hall to an empty room that looked like a private waiting room. I followed them in, and we sat on the pale green institutional sofas. I sat next to Rose, across from the detective, and she grabbed my hand, interlacing our fingers and squeezing tightly.

"I'm sorry about your mom," he said.

"Thanks," Rose whispered.

"Um, Theresa," he began, "is it O.K. for me to call you that?"

"I prefer Rose, now, if you don't mind. I feel like Theresa is someone else at this point."

"Sure, then, Rose, let me tell you what we know. The police in Farston arrested four armed men staking out your house, Jake Young—

"And let me guess," Rose interrupted, "Tommy Costa, Alex Escudero and Maxim Sokolov." She spat the names out as if she had tasted something spoiled.

Bayliss nodded. "That's right. They were waiting for you based on information that they had beaten out of your mother."

Rose gasped and started to cry. I squeezed her hand tightly. The detective continued, "Escudero rolled on the other two. He apparently has a new baby, and wanted the chance to see her before she went to college. They have been looking for you on orders from Simon Schmidt—" Rose shivered when he said that name, which I recognized from the news stories about Rose's ordeal—"and they happened to be in Atlanta when they saw your mother at a nightclub. They abducted her, and when she refused to tell them where you were, well, you saw what happened."

I felt Rose sob violently and start crying harder.

"The good news, such as it is, I guess, is that Schmidt, and a couple of his men in L.A. have also been arrested, and will probably go away for a long, long time."

We sat there, silently except for Rose's crying, for what felt like a long time. When she stopped crying, she wiped her eyes and nose with her hands and said, "Thank you, detective."

Bayliss stood up. "I'm sure your mother will be fine. This is a great hospital. I'm sorry about all this, but I'm glad we got these bastards in custody." He tried to hand his card to Rose, but she didn't react, so I took it. "If you need anything at all while you are here, or have any questions, give me a call." And then he was gone.

I was exhausted, and I could only imagine how Rose was feeling. I realized that she needed me to take control of the situation. I stood, pulling Rose up with our clasped hands. "I think we need to find a hotel."

"I want to stay here," she whispered.

"There's nothing we can do here, Rose. Let's go somewhere, get something to eat, maybe, and get some rest so we can come back refreshed in the morning."

"I guess you are right," she reluctantly agreed.

I handed Rose her coat, which she put on, and we walked back down to the reception area. I asked at the desk where the nearest hotel was, and luckily, there was a good one a block away. We walked in the cool late night air to the hotel, checked in and went to the room. I figured I could keep using the emergency credit card.

Once we got there, I realized that I was starving. I turned to Rose and asked her if she wanted any food, but she shook her head and just sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the generic art print on the wall. I found the room service menu, but realized it was too late.

"Rose, there's a Wendy's that we passed on the way here. I'm going to get something, O.K.?" She nodded. "Can I get you anything?" She shook her head.

I grabbed my coat and room card and went back out into the night. A few minutes later, I had a sack full of questionable burgers and fries, and a couple of sodas. I figured, maybe I could get Rose to eat something.

Back at the hotel, the room was dark and quiet. When I turned on the light, I could see Rose lying under the blankets, curled up in the fetal position. I put the bag on the desk, took off my coat and sat down, removing a burger, fries and soda from the greasy bag. It smelled great—better than great, actually. I looked over at Rose, and she didn't stir, so I wolfed down the food, tossed the trash into the garbage can, found my toiletries in my bag, brushed my teeth, washed up, then undressed for bed. Still a bit unsure of things, I kept my boxers on. Memorizing the layout of the room, I turned off the light and slowly made my way to the bed without tripping or bumping into anything.

The sheets were cool, and I snuggled under the blanket. It was pitch black in the room. I felt Rose roll toward me, and she rested her head on my chest and laid her arm across my belly. I was able to rub her soft, smooth back under the blanket, and it appeared that unlike me, she had discarded her underwear. As I stroked her back, she made quiet purring noises and, under pretty much any other circumstances, I would have been horny as hell. But I was exhausted, both physically and mentally, and quickly found myself asleep.

* * *

I opened my eyes, and after I figured out where I was, I had the happy feeling of having Rose pressed against me, in the classic spoon position. My semi-erect cock was nestled in her ass crack, and as that fact slowly invaded my consciousness, it became fully erect. A few days ago, the concept that I'd be naked in bed with Rose was unimaginable, and now I was remarkably not embarrassed by having my cock pressing against her ass. And when she pressed back against it and sighed, I kissed the back of her head. Although it didn't seem possible, she pressed herself even closer, and I took the opportunity to use my free hand to stroke her curves, from her ribs, down to her waist, and up to her hip. I could tell from the way her body reacted, that I was doing something good, and began to stray toward her ample, soft breasts.

Rose reached up, and pressed my hand against her hardening nipple, then contorted her neck to kiss me. When we disengaged, she said, softly, "I like waking up like this."

"No complaints here," I replied, smiling.

"Very funny," she responded, with mock indignation, rolling away from me so that she was lying face down on the bed.

If she thought that denying me the ability to fondle her breasts was "punishment," it was certainly mitigated by the sight of her round ass and long legs. I wondered to myself if there was anything sexier than the sight of a naked woman's pink skin against white sheets.

"I guess I better do something to apologize," I said, chuckling, and rolled toward her. I began stroking and rubbing her back, kneading her muscles. As much as I enjoyed giving the massage, it was clear that Rose was really enjoying the attention, and that didn't change as I moved my focus to her butt. In fact, my work on her cheeks led to an increasing in the intensity of her moaning, and a slow spreading of her thighs.

Despite my general lack of experience with women, I thought I knew what that meant, and I reached between her legs and stroked her soft thighs, before moving toward her pussy, somewhat surprised to feel how wet she already was. I used my fingers to rub her lips, and apparently located her clit, by the way that her hips jerked upward. The more I rubbed, the more Rose lifted off the bed, until she was on her knees, ass up in the air, chest pressing against the mattress. She looked at me and smiled, her face smashed against the mattress, and I figured that it was time for me to make a move. I positioned myself so that I could stick my now throbbing cock into Rose from behind. I was able to plunge fully into her with no resistance, and Rose grunted loudly and pressed her ass back against me.

I withdrew part way, then pressed back in, feeling the smooth, wet, hotness against my cock, which caused me to lose control a bit, and I started pumping faster and faster, and Rose began to meet my thrusting. I was panting, and she was grunting. I could feel Rose's hand rubbing her clit from underneath while we fucked with abandon, and she started to make the sounds that I recently learned meant that she was close to cumming. That set me off, and I exploded inside her, and as I finished, Rose yelled out, and collapsed under me. I couldn't have asked for a better landing spot.

We lay there, catching our breath, before I rolled off her back. I was lying on the bed, on my back. Rose turned toward me, then scooted over so that she was lying perpendicular to me, on her stomach, her head on my chest. I had heard the expression that someone had a "well fucked look" on their face, and I kind of thought that was what Rose had. She just looked at me, with a half-smile on her lips, her head rising and falling as I breathed.

"Thank you," she finally said, softly.

"No, thank you," I said, smiling.

"What I mean, Dale, is thank you for making me feel safe and loved and respected, not just for the sex." She paused before saying, "Although that was pretty great, too. For someone with no experience, you're doing great," Before I could respond, she said, "For so long, sex was something I did because I was forced to, or for money, and not because I wanted to. That's why I was so hesitant. I guess I equated sex with something bad. Which, I guess, led to my fear of touching and intimacy at all. The way you've treated me since we met reminded me that not all men are horrible. And getting to see sex from your perspective, as something new and exciting again, has reminded me that it can be fun, and good, and feels great, especially when you are with someone you love."

What exactly was I supposed to say to that? I decided that the best thing to say was nothing, and just gave her a peck on the nose. I did worry to myself that I could never measure up, either in size or experience to her prior partners, but the last thing I was going to do was bring up her past.

I looked at the clock. "Rose, it is almost 9—we should probably get to the hospital."

"You're right." Rose got up, and I watched her walk, naked and unselfconscious, to the bathroom, and heard the shower start. I thought about trying to get in the shower with her, but assuming that she was O.K. with that, I didn't want to delay any more, and I figured there was plenty of time for me to check that fantasy off my long list. After much less time that I expected, considering what I thought I knew about women and showers, Rose came out, with a towel around her body, just barely covering her crotch, and another one around her head, turban style

"Your turn," she said, smiling, and I walked, naked and somewhat self-consciously, into the foggy bathroom. I turned on the shower, and after adjusting the temperature, I got in. I could hear Rose wiping off the mirror and doing stuff in the bathroom while I washed up.

"Dale, I can't believe that my mother risked her life to protect me."

I was kind of surprised by that comment, since I actually would pretty much expect my mother to do that, even considering what happened to Rose's mom. I stuck my head out of the shower. "Really?"

She turned to look at me, and her face was hard. "There's more to my relationship with my mother than meets the eye."

This was much more interesting than the shower, so I rinsed, turned off the water, and reached for a towel, wrapping it around my waist. "How?"

Rose took a deep breath. "My mother is really to blame for what happened to me. She and her husband were drug addicts and drunks, and she made it easy for him to rape me. Repeatedly from when I was 14. When I told her, she was either too fucked up, or didn't care, and when I told her I was running away, she said 'good riddance.'"

I stepped toward her and held her.

"So, I ran away, and tried to live on the street. I met this guy, and he was nice. He gave me food. A place to stay. And the next thing I knew, I was tied up, in a van, and in a house in California. Those guys, the guys who did this to my mother, beat and raped me. They degraded me until I didn't know up from down. They forced me to do horrible things, and the porn. They didn't care how old I was. When I turned 18, a more 'legitimate' producer, Paul Dampling, literally bought me from Simon Schmidt. I didn't know what else to do, so I did a couple of movies for him. It was better—I had my own room, I wasn't getting hurt or anything, and I even got paid. But I was miserable, and they watched me. I wanted revenge. I became friendly with one of my so-called bodyguards, who really was there to make sure that I didn't run away and damage Paul's investment. If by friendly, you mean that I let him fuck me. Eventually, I convinced the guy to look the other way, and I ran. Right to the police. You know the rest of the story—they arrested Schmidt and his crew, and they did some time, but got out recently and came after me."

She had told me most of the story before, in the park, except for the part about her mother, but obviously, she needed to get it out, and I listened, sickened again. "Rose, then why did you go back to your mother?"

She took a deep breath. "I wasn't sure what to do. I knew her bastard husband had died, and good riddance to him. I called her, and she said that she was in a program, and clean, and wanted to see me. I flew to Atlanta, and we met, and talked. I still resented her, but I thought that we both needed someone, I had nowhere to go, and we were family after all. And then this." She waved her hands around, as if to indicate "everything," and started to sob.

After a few seconds, she wiped her eyes, and turned to the mirror and began to put on makeup. "We should get going, I guess."

I nodded and started to leave the bathroom, before turning back. "Can I ask another question?"

"Of course, Dale. I feel like I don't need to hide anything from you."

"What about Paul Dampling—isn't he also after you?"

She smiled a little. "No, he turned out to be a relatively good guy. Not perfect, but when I got away, and told him the whole story, he was understanding. He did make me pay him a bunch of money, and sign a bunch of papers, but said we were square. He even offered me the chance to come back, whenever I wanted, and make more movies." She paused. "As if that would ever happen."

I knew probably as much as I would ever know, or at least for the time being, and it was pretty horrific. But I was happy that she was willing to confide in me, almost as much as I was happy that she was willing to sleep with me.

We dressed, grabbed a coffee in the hotel lobby and walked over to the hospital.

When we got there, Rose's mother seemed to be unchanged. Bruised, filled with tubes and silent. Rose sat next to her, holding her hand, talking to her in a quiet voice, sometimes crying. I sat in the room, basically doing nothing but watching Rose, occasionally getting coffee and snacks. Around lunchtime, though, shit started happening. Monitors beeped, and doctors and nurses came running into the room. One of the nurses closed the curtain around the bed and shooed us out of the room. She looked concerned, and Rose looked scared.

I led Rose to the lounge room where we had met with the detective, and we sat down. Rose grabbed my hand and held on for dear life.

"She's going to be O.K., right?" Rose asked hopefully.

Frankly, it didn't look good, but my medical knowledge came completely from TV and the movies, so I figured it was safe to say, "I'm sure they are taking good care of her."

Sitting there and waiting without knowing was killing me, and it was worse for Rose. Occasionally, she would sniffle, or wipe her eyes, and squeeze my hand. There was nothing to say, and nothing to do but wait.

After some time, Doctor Coulson came into the room, and he didn't look happy. "Rose, can I speak with you privately?"

She stood up. "It's O.K. for Dale to hear this."

"Are you sure?" he asked, warily. Rose nodded. "You may want to sit down." Rose sat, and I sat next to her on the couch. This was not a positive development. "Rose, I'm sorry to say that your mother has passed away." I felt Rose lurch and squeeze my hand. "Her injuries were too severe. We did everything we could....." His voice trailed off, and I could hear Rose sobbing. "I'm sorry for your loss." He stood, and we stood too, for some reason.

Through her tears, Rose asked, "Can I see her?"

"Of course. Is there anyone you would like speak with? A clergyman?"

Rose shook her head. "We really weren't religious, I guess."

We followed the doctor back to her mother's room. She looked peaceful. I realized that I had never seen a dead body before. I looked over at Rose, and she was still beautiful, even with tears pouring down her face and red puffy eyes.

A short, dark-haired woman, maybe my Mom's age, wearing a suit, came over and introduced herself to us as Sandra Callender, and told us that she was there to help us make arrangements for the body. Rose looked at her blankly, and before Ms. Callender could start detailing the options, I asked, "Can this wait until tomorrow?"

"Of course," she replied, "but if you would be interested in allowing your mother to be an organ donor and help other people, we need to get your consent now." She handed Rose a clipboard with a bunch of papers. Rose scanned them quickly, and scribbled a signature at the bottom.

"I guess it makes sense," she said, without much enthusiasm, and handed the clipboard to the woman.

"Thank you," she replied, sounding sincere, and handed me her business card. "Have Rose call me when she is ready to talk about other arrangements." She bustled out of the room.

"Rose, do you want to stay here anymore?"

She looked at me, as if surprised to see me, then shook her head, as if clearing out the fog. "No, I think I need to get some air."

We left the hospital and walked aimlessly and quietly on the unfamiliar streets, holding hands, before somehow ending up back at the hotel. I realized that I was starving, and we sat in the hotel restaurant making minimal conversation, while I ate a grilled chicken sandwich and Rose moved the lettuce around in a salad.




Thorny Rose Ch. 03



Back in the room, Rose lay down on the bed, fully clothed, and fell asleep, crying.

I realized that I was way out of my element. I kissed Rose on the forehead, grabbed my phone and left the room, heading for the lobby, where I called my parents and told them what was going on. After expressing their shock and sympathy, as I hoped, they agreed to fly down immediately.

When I returned to the room, Rose had not moved, but she had stopped crying. I took off her shoes, and some of her clothing, trying to disturb her as little as possible, and pulled a blanket over her. I put on some sweats, sat down on the chair and started reading a book on my phone.

The next thing I knew, I was waking up, in the chair, and it was 11 p.m. Rose had moved a bit, but was still under the covers. I crawled into bed, still in my sweats, and she nestled next to me. I held her in my arms until we fell asleep.

* * *

I woke the next morning, lying on my back, no longer entangled with Rose. I looked over and she was awake, lying on her side, still partially clothed, and looking at me intently.

"What?" I asked, feeling a bit uncomfortable at her stare.

"You really are incredible."

"No, I'm not."

"No, you are. I don't know what I would do if you weren't here and helping me get through this."

"No problem."

Rose smiled. "Bullshit. Of course it is a problem. And that is why you are so great."

I really didn't think I was that great, but I wasn't going to contradict her. I shrugged.

She continued to look at me. "I need one more favor, though."

"What can I do?

A mischievous smile crossed her beautiful, half-awake face. "Someone was nice enough to take of some of my clothing last night before bed, but I'm feeling a little overdressed right now. Could you help me take off the rest?"

I'm not sure that I ever moved faster. Rolling toward her, I reached for the bottom of her t-shirt, and worked it over her chest and head. All that were left were her bra and panties, and I made short work of them. Seeing Rose, in all her naked glory, lying in bed next to me was truly amazing. I found myself breathing heavily, and felt my cock pressing against my sweatpants.

"Dale, I think you are pretty overdressed yourself. Do you need a hand?

Did I ever. And Rose provided two able and eager ones, and I was stark naked within seconds.

And seconds after that, Rose had pinned me to the bed, her breasts pressing against my chest, and we were kissing. I felt the passion in her tongue and her lips, and I buried my fingers in her blond hair. She pulled away, and before I could be annoyed, Rose began kissing my chest, stopping to briefly nibble on my surprisingly sensitive nipples before continuing down to my belly. Grabbing my cock with her hand, she began to lick it, from its root to its red head, already oozing precum. I was in ecstasy, as she gently grabbed my balls and then took my cock into her mouth. Not surprisingly, I was unable to control myself, and quickly, probably too quickly, grunted and came in waves, which Rose swallowed effortlessly. I collapsed on the bed, and marveled at the sight of my gorgeous Rose, smiling at me, with a little bit of my cum on the corner of her lips. She quickly licked it off with her tongue, and frankly, I thought I was going to lose it again.

She lay down next to me, and I pulled her close. "Thank you," I whispered.

"Well, you did help me take my clothing off. It was the least I could do."

I smiled. If she could be so lighthearted after seeing her mother dead, maybe she would get over it quickly. Or maybe she was in shock. Either way, I just got an incredible blow job, and had an astounding naked woman lying in my arms.

It took me a few minutes to recover, but then I realized that the gentlemanly thing to do was to reciprocate. I turned on my side and began to stroke Rose, starting with her side farthest away from me. Then, I traced her eyes, nose and lips, and she kissed my fingers before I move to her chin. From there, it was her long, elegant neck and her upper chest. Rose was making contented sounds, and let out a sigh as I began to gently run my fingers over her perfectly shaped breasts. I watched her dark nipples harden, which invited me to suck on them. Rose was moaning softly, and I moved a hand down her belly to her pussy, feeling its moist warmth. Still sucking her nipple, I began to rub her pussy lips, occasionally dipping a finger insider her, but staying away from her clit as best I could.

She arched her back, pressing her tits into my face as I fingered her, faster and faster, before stopping abruptly and scrambling down to press my face into her fragrant loins. As I attacked her clit with my tongue, she locked my head between her thighs, while her hips bounced off the bed. I felt her stiffen and yell, before spreading her legs wide and tugging on my hair, hard enough that I got the message, but not hard enough to hurt. I moved to my knees and plunged my now throbbing cock inside her. It went in without any effort, and she wrapped her legs around me and thrust her hips toward me as I pumped away as if possessed by lust, because I was. The hotel bed was squeaking pretty good, when I felt Rose cum again, and then I shot another load deep inside her before collapsing, panting and sweating on top of her heaving chest. Rose idly rubbed my back as we caught our breath, and I rolled off her.

We lay there, silently, holding hands. I guess that Rose was using sex, and its pleasure and intimacy to forget what was happening. I knew that the last thing I wanted to deal with was reality and the outside world, because things in here were pretty amazing. And then my phone rang. I jumped out of bed and saw that it was my mother calling. I tried to catch my breath.

"Hey Mom."

"Hi, Dale, are you O.K.?"

"Yeah."

"Good. How's Rose doing?"

I looked at her, naked and gorgeous, in bed. "Pretty well, under the circumstances, I think."

She told me when she and Dad would arrive, and I gave her the address of the hotel. It gave us more than enough time to shower, have some food and get ready for the day.

* * *

We were back home a couple of days later. It was great having Mom and Dad in Atlanta to give us advice about how to deal with the body, and the hospital, and insurance and stuff. Mom and Rose spent some time together, and I think it helped Rose. We still had some time left in Christmas break, and Rose spent much of it with us. After a touch of awkwardness the first night, it became accepted that Rose was sleeping in my room, and then it wasn't discussed anymore. We had some what I hope was quiet sex in my room, and some pretty loud sex the nights I stayed over at Rose's house.

The word about the situation had, not surprisingly, gotten around Farston pretty quickly, and Rose was great handling the notoriety, although there were some moments where she went back into her shell, and I learned to leave her alone and give her space, but not too alone, if that makes any sense. When we got back to school, people tried to pretend things hadn't changed, and it took a couple of weeks before things settled back down to the usual routine again.

Rose told me that she got a call from some law enforcement people, who informed her that the people responsible for her mother's death had all plea bargained and implicated others, and that they would all be in jail for many, many years, in exchange for avoiding the death penalty. And that information obtained in the investigation helped to shut down a sex trafficking ring and underage porn productions in three states.

After hearing that good news, Rose came over, and sat down with my parents and me. She felt safe enough to go public with her story, to try to help others and to show that she was O.K. My mother was against it, but she was adamant, and my father supported her. I told her that I was with her whatever she did, which got me a kiss. She honored her agreement with Sam, and they did an interview that was posted on the school newspaper website, and was picked up across the country. Rose even appeared on the local news, telling her story.

As my father predicted, as good and interesting a story as it was, once it was out there, it would become old news fast, and the calls and emails petered out. She was contacted by an anti-trafficking charity, and did a few interviews and appearances for them, and continued to do work for them in what passed for her spare time.

We were back to what passed for normal, if normal meant that I had an incredibly beautiful girlfriend who slept with me in my house, and had her own house were we could go for privacy. Rose and Mom became even closer as time went on, because I think Rose appreciated having an older, smart and caring woman to bounce stuff off and to talk to. Dad introduced her to our lawyer and accountant, who helped her with some financial issues that were not discussed with me, and also to officially change her name to Rose Hicks. She said that it was the first name she ever had where she was happy, and wanted to put her other names in the past. Eventually, she gave up the house and just moved in with us.

Most of the time, things between us were great. We had been friends, and the whole experience had made us better friends. The sex was incredible, although I admittedly had little to compare it to. Rose was an amazing teacher, and I learned how to please her, and she did the same for me. And when the bad memories returned, after we watched a particular movie or TV show, or sometimes even for no apparent reason, her reactions became less and less intense. She said it was because she felt secure with me, and my family and our friends. Therapy also probably deserved some of the credit.

After I got accepted to my second choice college (nothing is perfect, I guess), Rose was excited, and a few days later told me that she had decided to take classes at the community college in the same town, hoping to eventually transfer in to my school. She wanted to take classes that would allow her to counsel victims of abuse, and to make a career of that. That sounded like it might be a painful path for her, but she was willing to put herself through it so that she could help other people deal with the issues better than she had.

After discussing it with my parents, we decided to rent an apartment near campus, and split the rent. I lined up a job at food services, Rose got a job in a coffee bar, and my parents agreed to make up the difference.

We even went to prom together, and no one looked more beautiful, or happier to be there, than Rose. Despite that, and her fame, she wasn't voted Prom Queen—that went to Abby Press, who reportedly spent a good amount of time on her back or knees with classmates of both sexes to earn the title, and Sal Pastrana, the captain of the football team, and not a bad guy overall.

I know that I said that nothing ever happens in Farston, and that is still mostly right. But I'm glad that when something did happen, I was in the middle of it. I know that it has worked out pretty well for me, so far, although I realize nothing is certain. I've learned already that you need to take each day at a time, and appreciate what you have. And I think it has worked out O.K. for Rose, too. I mean, I wouldn't wish on anyone what she had to go through, and it's not like ending up with me is exactly like winning the grand prize in life. But things seem pretty good for her now, and she acts happy most of the time.

Every day, even on the bad days, I consider myself lucky that we are together. Because even though you have to deal with the thorns, there are few things in this world that are more beautiful than a rose.