Storiesonline.net ------- The Outsider by Jay Cantrell Copyright© 2008 by Jay Cantrell ------- Description: Brock Miller is looking for a little peace and quiet after a tumultuous 18 months. Can he ever have a normal life? Or is he destined to be defined by a past he cannot change? Codes: mf cons 1st pett slow ------- ------- Chapter 1 Brock Miller sat on the lawn chair gazing into his back yard. It certainly was smaller than at his old house. The forest and meadow at his former home had been the scene of countless memorable adventures — and of one memory too horrific to forget. Still, here was damned sight nicer than where he was two months before. But it wasn't as nice as where he'd been two years ago. Yet it was home, for now. His old life was over, destroyed so fully that there were no remnants left to salvage. Yet he had the memories, including the ones he longed to forget. A tiny voice startled Brock from his thoughts and he turned to see a small blonde head peering at him over the fence that separated his house from his neighbors. He'd have to get used to living with people nearby too, he supposed. "Are you the new neighbor?" the girl asked. "Hi, I'm... ," Brock caught himself. "Brock. Brock Miller." "I'm Jenny Miles," the girl said. "What grade are you in?" "I'll be a junior," he replied. "Me, too," she answered. "Maybe we'll be in homeroom together. They sort us by alphabet. What classes are you taking?" Brock shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not sure yet," he answered. "I have to go to the Board of Education office soon and get everything set up." In fact he had to wait for the transcripts from his old high school and the school he attended the year before to come before he could register. "I might be in private school," he said. "That's still up in the air. I guess we'll see how I do this summer." "Cool," Jenny said. "Do you live with your mom and dad?" It was the million dollar question. He'd hoped to put off the answer for a little while longer to consider what to say. "Mom and Dad don't live together," Brock answered. "Dad's not around much." It was true enough, he guessed. "So you're here by yourself?" she asked incredulously. "That must be pretty great." Brock couldn't see much way out without an outright lie. He'd have to use those sooner or later. He was hoping for later. "You could say I live by myself," he said. "Don't tell anyone though. I'd hate for people to get the wrong idea about my living arrangements." Jenny nodded. "Yeah," she said. "I live with my mom. When my sister and I were younger she always worried about people finding out she had to leave us alone of the evenings sometimes." What Brock worried most about was people thinking they could party at his house unsupervised. But Jenny's explanation served its purpose too. "My dad is a real jerk," she continued. "I have to go visit him for the rest of the summer starting next month. I hate it. He lives in Wyoming and works on a horse farm. I can't get the smell of manure out of my nostrils until Christmas. My sister just turned 18 this year so she doesn't have to go. I'm trying to talk her into it because it'll suck worse to have to be there by myself." "Yeah, there was a pig farm down the road from our old house," Brock said truthfully. "It stunk to high heaven. I hated to be downwind during the summer." Jenny laughed. "Chicken farms are worse, I heard," she replied. "They stink all year round." The teens chatted at the fence line for another half hour before another voice called Jenny to supper. Brock considered the downside to living alone: he had to cook for himself, clean up after himself and do his own laundry. At least his mom used to share the burden with him. His mom. He had to quit thinking about her every 10 minutes. But he couldn't help but miss her. Brock was just deciding on what microwave dinner to heat up when Jenny knocked at his door. "Mom wants you to come eat with us," she said excitedly. "It'll be fun and she wants to meet you." Brock knew it was rude to ask what they would be having but almost anything would be better than another Lean Cuisine microwave entree. ------- Dinner with Jenny and her mother, Leslie, was an adventure for Brock. What few social skills he'd learned in his early teen years had been lost in the last 18 months, it seemed. He continually found himself apologizing for wolfing down his food. It was a habit he'd tried to break himself of, but he had to admit this was the best thing he'd tasted in a long time. Leslie just took it in stride. "It's nice to see a healthy appetite," she said with a smile. "My girls just pick at their plates. They both eat like birds." Jenny blushed as she nibbled on her salad. "Or like rabbits," Leslie concluded. "It's been a while since I've had a home-cooked meal," Brock admitted. "I can fix hamburgers and hot dogs, but lasagna is pretty much out my element. Basically if it doesn't come off a grill, I'm out of luck." Brock tried to keep the conversation neutral but he found it increasingly coming back to his past. "I moved here from the central part of the state," he said when asked. "A little town called Monroe about 50 miles from anywhere." Leslie didn't pry into his life, but she searched for details where she could. The boy was obviously intelligent. He could hold his own on a variety of topics and he seemed better read than even her bookish daughter. But there was something about his answers that bothered her. Finally she put it down to a lack of adult supervision. "Where I lived was very small and very isolated," he told them later. "I didn't like it there and I moved as soon as I had the chance." Brock thought he was doing pretty well at evading the questions. Everything he told them was the truth. But it wasn't the whole truth and it didn't give them the whole story. Still, it was all they needed to know. That part of his life was in the past. Jenny seemed captivated by her new neighbor. She was pretty in a wholesome way, with a smattering of freckles across her nose. Brock found them adorable. But he'd always had difficulty feeling comfortable around girls and Jenny was no exception. He and Jenny seemed to be having a contest about who could blush the most, Leslie thought. I need to pay close attention to them, especially with no parents next door for the most part. Finally one question came that Brock had trouble with. "Where's your mom?" Leslie asked. Brock thought for maybe a second too long. "I don't know," he finally replied. "But I hope she's somewhere nice." ------- Jenny and Brock started a ritual that night of spending evenings sitting on his front porch. Leslie peered out the window often enough to make sure they weren't sneaking into the house, but inwardly she was pleased. It was nice to see Jenny without a book in her hand and actually talking to a boy. Jenny wasn't shy so much as she was disinterested. It was easy to mistake her boredom for something else, but she usually opened up if you found something that interested her. And Brock Miller certainly seemed to capture her attention. He was a cute boy — well, almost a man it seemed to Leslie. He was tall and well built but not bulky. He didn't look like a weight lifter but he looked like he took care of himself. This fact didn't jibe with the eating habits he'd discussed at dinner, but Leslie filed that information away for later. The problem was with his eyes. They seemed to shift constantly with each movement at the dinner table. And although Brock laughed a lot during dinner and after, his eyes remained dark and lifeless. Still, Leslie couldn't help but like the personable young man. But she knew she'd have a hard time trusting him — even if her youngest daughter wasn't infatuated with him. The time on the porch was innocent enough. The teens talked about the town of Corbly — Brock's new hometown — and the people that inhabited it. "School pretty much sucks," Jenny said. "It's typical. I don't really fit in with any of the cliques. Everyone thinks I'm a Brain, but I don't really have anything in common with the Brains either. What about you?" Brock reflected for a little while. He knew where he had fit for the first 14 years of his life. Now he wondered with what group he'd wind up. Then he wondered why he even cared. He stopped giving a crap about what anyone thought almost two years before. And he'd vowed to give up anything that reminded him of what he once had. "I don't know," he said. "I'm pretty smart, I think. I'll probably land in the same boat as you. That would be OK with me." Both teenagers blushed at that statement. "What high school did you go to last year?" Jenny asked. "Uh, I guess I was pretty much home schooled," Brock replied. "I had private tutors. That's why I wonder what classes they'll translate to here." Jenny looked thoughtful. "Is your family rich?" she asked finally. "I mean you have a house to yourself. You have a new car. Your clothes all look new. You had private tutors. But you don't act like a rich snob." Things don't add up, she thought to herself. "I guess I'm fairly well off," Brock admitted. "But it's recent. I'd rather not talk about it." Jenny demurred gracefully but her mind raced forward. "I guess I kinda came here to get away from all that," Brock admitted. "It's uncomfortable for me to talk about it. What about your family? You said you have a sister, but I didn't see her at dinner and your mom didn't mention her." Jenny sighed. "Mom is sort of pissed at Melanie right now," Jenny admitted. "Mel goes to school at Langley College in Wilkins. Do you know where that is?" Brock's heart skipped a beat. That was one place he never wanted to hear about again. He hoped his face didn't betray his feelings. "I've heard of it," he said. "Why is your mom mad?" "Mel wants to stay for summer school," Jenny said. "She graduated high school a year early and she just turned 18 last month. For the first semester of school Mel either came home for the weekend or Mom drove down to visit her. Mel threatened to transfer to a school in Alaska if Mom didn't stop. "Now she wants to stay for summer school. Mom said she wouldn't pay for it and Mel quit calling or answering the phone. We're driving down in the morning to pick her up — one way or the other. I could ask Mom if you can come if you want me to." Brock answered a little too quickly. "No thanks!" he said vehemently then caught himself. "I don't want to be in the middle of your family discussions," he added with a laugh. "Besides it will give your mother a chance to grill you about all the juicy gossip you picked up tonight." ------- Mel did indeed come home the next evening, grudgingly it seemed. And Jenny knocked on Brock's door a few minutes after he heard the Miles' car pull into their driveway. "Oh, my God!" Jenny exclaimed when Brock joined her on the front porch. "Well, that's one college I can never go to. Mom and Mel pretty much ruined that for me." She gave Brock the whole story — in what seemed to him to be excruciating detail. Leslie and Mel got into quite an argument on the street in front her dorm, regardless of the throng of parents and students milling around on the final day of classes, she said. They rode in stony silence the entire five-hour drive home. The only good part, according to Jenny, was that her sister was insistent upon joining her at her father's in June. As the few weeks before Jenny headed to Wyoming passed, the teens spent more and more time on Brock's porch. Mel would join them periodically but she tried to act too mature for the 16-year-olds. Brock saw through the act but didn't say anything. It was her business if she wanted to act that way and it kept him from reminders of what he'd lost. About the last thing he wanted was for someone to extol the virtues of Langley College or the City of Wilkins. By the time mid-June hit, Jenny and Brock had migrated from sitting side by side to often holding hands and the movie theater or the pool had replaced the porch from time to time. Brock watched the Miles family drive away with trepidation. He'd only really had one girlfriend before but he was pretty sure he had one in Jenny. At least he hoped he did. The worst part was the fact her father lived in almost total isolation. There was only one pay phone for the ranch hands to use and her father didn't believe in cell phones or computers. For the next two and half months, he'd have to rely on letters to correspond with Jenny. He felt like he was living in the Stone Age. ------- Chapter 2 It was only a couple of days after Jenny and Mel departed that Leslie took the space on Brock's porch that usually contained her daughter. "Kinda quiet with the kids gone, isn't it," Brock said. Leslie just nodded. "It's this way every summer," she told her neighbor of six weeks. "I have two months of peace. Jenny spends four months bitching about having to go and four months bitching about having gone. I get a couple of months quiet in the winter and a couple of months in the summer. That's it." Brock joined her laughter. "I only got six weeks of it," he said with a smile. "I'm glad I don't have to worry about things like that." This brought Leslie to one of the reasons she was sitting on his porch. "You don't seem to have many friends," she told the boy. "You don't seem to be going to any effort to make them, either." Brock sighed. "Contrary to what I might have led you to believe, I am not the most sociable person around," he said with a disarming smile. "I didn't really plan to make friends with your family, either. But I guess I messed up on that one." Leslie wanted to know the reason behind Brock's reticence toward spending time with others yet she didn't really know how to ask. But she had other another purpose to her visit. Maybe that would give her the answer she sought. "I want to talk to you about that," she said simply. "You've been here almost two months and I haven't seen an adult stop in to check on you. "If you speak to your father at all it must be rarely or in the middle of the night. Which brings me to this..." She handed an envelope to Brock. It was the electric bill. His electric bill. "This was delivered to my house by mistake," she said. "The bill is in your name. I can't even get a phone line in Jenny's name and it took me almost a year to get the electric changed to my name when I divorced. "How does a 16-year-old boy get this accomplished?" Brock had skated around questions for the last few weeks. He didn't lie outright, but he didn't really give the truth either. Questions like these were the main reason he'd vowed to avoid people and keep them at a distance. "You are dating my daughter," Leslie reminded him. "I think I'm entitled to a little information about the boy she's spending half her time with." She watched as Brock rubbed his cold, dark eyes. He knew he had a decision to make. But he wasn't ready to put his trust in anyone, let alone someone he'd just met six weeks before and someone who would sell him out if her daughter were in the slightest danger of being hurt. He'd already gone through that once. But he couldn't see much of a choice. If he didn't tell her she'd dig for the information and it's hard to tell what she'd manage to find. He'd known for the last couple of weeks that he'd have to let the Miles family in on his past but he wanted to keep full control over the flow of information lest fact get confused with gossip. "I'm an emancipated minor," he said. "I'm sure I have a father somewhere but I've never met him. My mother died last year. My idea of home died along with her, so I set out on my own. I own this house. I own the car. I'm responsible for the paying the utilities and the taxes and everything else." Brock could tell that the information startled his visitor. "Could you explain a little more?" she asked. "I know what the word 'emancipated' means. But how does it apply to you?" Brock filled Leslie in on his legal situation. "In all matters, I am considered an adult," he said. "There are a couple of contracts I'm not able to sign and I can't vote or drink or anything like that. But a judge has determined that I possess the means to support myself and the intelligence to make decisions for myself. So I am permitted to live by myself." "Don't you think that information should have been provided before you started to date Jenny?" Leslie asked quickly. "Jenny has never stepped foot inside the house," Brock replied. "She has not been, nor will she be, placed in any situation where my legal status is an issue. For example, while I don't require a parent's signature to marry, Jenny still does if that's what you're worried about. "You've been aware of my living situation since the day I moved in. The only thing that's changed is the adult you thought would be supervising me occasionally has been proven legally redundant. I am the adult who supervises me." Leslie was taken aback and found her anger rising. "What's changed is the fact that although I have suspected you've been lying to me, now I know you were," she said hotly. "That's crap," Brock spat back. "I've answered any question you posed as honestly as I could. You asked the wrong questions and I didn't correct your misinterpretation. You assumed facts that I never offered. That's your own damn fault." Leslie thought back to the conversations she had with the boy. He'd never mentioned his father, Jenny had. He'd been careful when answering questions and he had left out significant details, but he hadn't lied. At least he hadn't lied to her. "What about Jenny?" she asked. "How much of this does she know?" Brock shook his head. "None," he answered. "Don't you think she has a right to know this?" Leslie asked dumbfounded. "I think," Brock answered, "that my living situation is none of her — or your — business so long as I'm willing to limit my visits with your family to supervised or public locations. If you believe differently, Jenny and I will need to re-evaluation the situation when she returns." Leslie didn't think it possible, but Brock's cold stare actually got blacker as he spoke. ------- It was a few days later when Leslie stopped back at Brock's house as he was mowing his lawn. "You were right about the other day," she said. "You've obviously convinced a judge that you're able to attend to yourself and you seem to be doing fine. But I'm not sure I'm ready for my daughter to be dating an adult. I'd like for you to come over for dinner a couple of nights a week. "I want to get to know you before I make any final decision. You won't have to eat Ramen noodles three times a week and I won't eat in front of the TV every evening." Brock smiled. He certainly did miss his nightly dinner with the Miles family. "You have to understand that there are certain things I'm not willing to talk about," he said. "If you are hoping to glean every detail of my life from me, you're going to be sorely disappointed. I didn't mean to get involved with Jenny. "I came here to spend a couple of years until I can go to a college where no one knows me and no one is interested in where I came from or why I live alone. I had hoped to avoid making any friends here for that reason." "So you're happy about being alone?" Leslie asked quietly. "Most kids your age crave acceptance and camaraderie. Most would do just about anything to have friends and you're unwilling to put forth the least effort. It doesn't make sense." If she knew him, Brock thought, it would make perfect sense. "It makes sense to me," he said. "I'm not happy about it, but it's just the way I want things for now. Obviously I'd prefer to be living with my mother. I tried to graduate last spring but I didn't have the required credits. I could quit school and get my GED but that limits where I can go to college. "I simply don't enjoy people very much," he concluded. He left out "any more." Leslie looked hard at him. "If everything else you've told me is true then that is the first lie you've uttered," she said. "You have a great wit and can contribute to almost any conversation I've seen you around. You enjoy people just fine, but you don't want to be around them for some reason. "That's your choice. But one of the reasons I was happy, initially, about Jenny's relationship with you is because it expanded her horizons. She stopped sitting around the house reading. She started going out in public. I truly don't want Jenny to limit herself to someone who is as socially ambivalent as she herself is." "As I said," Brock started, "that's something we'll all have to discuss when Jenny returns. I think she's a wonderful person and she's fun to be around. But at the same time I'm not interested in having 20 or 30 close friends — or even 20 or 30 acquaintances. If that's what you expect Jenny's boyfriend to be — an introduction to a new social circle — I'm probably not the boy you're looking for. "But if you want Jenny's boyfriend to be someone who understands consequences of actions and who promises to do his best to keep her safe and happy, I might be the boy she's looking for. All in all, I think Jenny might be old enough to decide for herself." "You can use circular logic all you want," Leslie said. "I'm hoping that Jenny will find someone who will offer both. You might be that boy. A first boyfriend is pretty important to how a girl matures, the way she views herself. I think you understand that Jenny can be so much more than just a bookworm who stays home every weekend. You have the personality of someone who was pretty popular at one point. There are times when you let your guard down and you become very outgoing. I don't know why you don't want friends, but I can tell from talking to you that at one point you had plenty." She was right. Two years before Brock was one of the most popular kids in his class. Almost everyone in the school knew his name. But last year he was one of the least liked guys in his class. He understood how fickle friendships can be and he'd vowed to avoid them until he was better able to cope. "I don't want Jenny to wrap her whole life around you," Leslie continued. "It's too much pressure for you, in the first place. In the second place, it's not healthy for her. I hope you understand that. "I'm not your enemy. I don't want to be thought of as the 'big, bad witch.' But I am Jenny's mother and I'm going to worry about her. At some point your past is going to become an issue. "I already know you're hiding something. I don't know what it is, but it must have been terribly traumatic for you. Jenny's going to figure it out soon enough. Then you'll have to decide to trust her or to hurt her. I can't tell you what to do but eventually you're going to have to trust someone." Leslie turned back toward her house leaving Brock with his thoughts. She was right. It was stupid to think he could start all over and have no one consider where he'd been for the first 16 years of his life. But he wasn't willing to let people get close to him again. It had cost him too much the last time. ------- As July threatened to turn into August Brock found himself thinking more and more about how his life used to be. Gradually Leslie Miles had begun to accept that Brock, although evasive, wasn't a bad person. In fact, she'd grown to like the boy. She still wasn't sure he would be what she'd pick for her youngest daughter's first love, though. The dinners with Leslie opened Brock's eyes, too. He learned that he would go crazy if he sequestered himself in his house. He learned to enjoy solitude in the last 18 months, but there was so much more for him here than there. He'd always loved athletics. From the time he was a small boy every new season would find him playing some sport or another. But football was his favorite. He was probably better at baseball, but he enjoyed the contact and discipline on the gridiron. He'd been a good football player two years before — good enough to start for his former high school as a freshman. He was even taller and stronger now than he was before. But he was loathe to participate in anything that reminded him of all he'd left behind. Still the urge to compete was inside him — and the days of sitting around his house and doing little did nothing to quell his desire. He was thinking about trying out for the soccer team. He'd played the sport as a child before his body caught up enough for him to try football. But the soccer team was among the best in the state. It was a double-edged sword for Brock. There was a possibility he'd never get to play. It had been almost six years since he played the sport, after all. The other side of the coin presented a different problem. If he was any good at all and managed to make varsity there would be no way for him to remain anonymous in his new school. Soccer ruled the sports landscape at Corbly High in the fall. The football team reminded him of his freshman season. The situation was almost identical, in fact. The program at Corbly was terrible, just as the program at Lafayette High School had been when he arrived. Corbly had a new coach this season — just as Lafayette had two years before. And the team was so bad it was off the radar of most students and parents. He figured he could be a starter on the football team and still have no one notice him. And he reckoned that since it had been almost two years since he participated there was a good chance he'd get little playing time at all, especially given the fact that the kid who played Brock's position the year before was returning. All in all, football seemed to be the better risk. ------- It was an hour into the second practice when Brock realized he had been mistaken. Brock and another first-year player were relegated to the second-string when the team lined up for five-on-five drills. It was a simple exercise — closely resembling sandlot touch football — to allow the coaches to gauge the players' level of ability. The five players opposite Brock's squad were all returning starters from last year's defense. But Brock and Bill Jacobs ate them alive. Bill was a junior and he'd had to sit out the season before because of an injury. But he was fast as lightning. Brock was playing his old position — quarterback — and he and Bill connected from the start. Under the withering gaze of the new defensive coordinator who expected the five veterans to eat the newcomers alive, Brock and Bill played pitch and catch all over the field. But it wasn't until Brock threw a perfect 15-yard out pattern to the far sideline (and into Bill's waiting hands) that the head coach took notice and blew his whistle. "Number Five and Number Twenty-five, you're with me," the head coach bellowed and soon Brock and Bill were working with the first-team offensive unit on seven-on-seven drills. Even last season's quarterback didn't seem fazed by the change. He was only 5-foot-7 and he'd already recognized that his days as a quarterback were numbered when he realized the new coach planned to scrap the traditional option-style offense and run from the Pro-Set. The former starter had a small college scholarship to play defensive back — his best position — and he wasn't disappointed at all to move to cornerback. He was, however, disappointed when Brock and Bill beat him for a 50-yard bomb down the left sideline. The locker room was abuzz after the season's second practice. Even the hot sun of early August couldn't drain the excitement from the faces of the players. Brock recognized it, too. This team had the chance to be pretty good. The players were athletic and skilled but the new coach seemed to have a keen eye for talent. And he wasn't afraid to shift a player out of his comfort zone if he thought it would help the team. "This is gonna be a great year," one of the senior captains declared as the team met before heading home. "If we work hard and play hard we're gonna go places this school has never gone on the football field." As Brock stood and listened he could hear history repeating itself. He smiled on the outside at the senior's words but inwardly he cringed at the thought. ------- Chapter 3 Jenny was bored silly. She'd read all the books she'd brought and it would be a few more days before she would get the new ones her Mom promised to send. There was no computer and the television only picked up three stations — one of them the local Public Access channel that was filled with religious zealots and wanna-be country and western singers. The nearest telephone was at the main house and her dad had thrown a fit the two times she'd asked to be allowed to call Brock. Plus she'd have to ride one of those damned horses the three miles from the cabin to the main house. So she let her imagination run wild. She had already determined she wanted to move her relationship with Brock forward. He seemed like the perfect boy for her. He could hold his own with her in a conversation about anything and he was content to allow her enough personal space to do things she wanted to do alone. It was so nice that she could sit beside him on her couch while reading a book and he didn't feel the need to be entertained or entertaining. He was just content to be beside her. She had wondered if she'd ever find that in a boy. Contrary to her mother's beliefs, Jenny was not disinterested in boys. In fact she was very interested — sometimes they were all she thought about. She'd had a crush on Wes Mansfield since fifth grade. Wes was the star midfielder on the soccer team and he was the star of Jenny's nightly fantasies. Or at least he was until the quiet boy next door took center stage. Now Brock's was the face Jenny dreamed of at night. Well, most nights anyway. Sometimes Wes sneaked back into her mind. But Wes was just that — a dream. He didn't even know she existed. All last year he'd sat beside her in Algebra and at the end of the year he called her "Jamie." She'd been crushed. Brock knew her name, that's for sure. The kiss they had shared that night after the movie had sent jolts of electricity to all of Jenny's interesting spots. But that's as far as Brock had gone — kissing. He hadn't tried to touch her breasts. He hadn't put his hand on her butt. Hell, they hadn't even French kissed until she had taken the initiative and slipped her tongue into his mouth. That was the night before she had to come to this god-forsaken place. It was an absolute shame that Brock had been alone in his house the whole summer and she'd been 400 miles away smelling horse shit. But every night, in her dreams, she paid a visit to the house next door as soon as her mother had left for work. And in her dreams she and Brock had gone a hell of lot farther than kissing and holding hands. Now if only she could figure out a way — short of showing up naked at his house — to turn things into reality when she returned home. ------- Melanie started to college earlier than high school started and she returned home a week before Labor Day. She and Brock had spent little time together during her brief summer stay in Corbly but she seemed anxious to get to know him when she returned from her father's. In fact, she'd be waiting for him on his porch every night when he got home from practice. "Jen about had a cow when she found out you were playing football," Mel told him the first night. "She didn't even realize you liked football. Then when you wrote to her and told her you were going to be the starting quarterback she couldn't believe it." The first month of Jenny's visit to Wyoming she and Brock had written to each other almost every day. By the time football season started the letters frequency dropped to two or three times a week and Brock had written and received only one letter per week since practice had started. "How many times can I write to tell you I didn't do anything," Jenny had written in one of the last daily letters. "I hate it here. There's hardly anything to do and I don't like to do the things there are to do. I miss you and I think of you all the time." From that point on she would write if she had something interesting to tell Brock — but even her weekly letters were filled with how much she wished she were home. "So, did you play football at your old school or is the team just that terrible this year?" Mel asked with a smirk. "I mean the team only won a couple of games last year and now you show up and you're the quarterback. It sounds like it's going to be a long season again." Brock shrugged. "I played when I was a freshman," he replied. "There was no team for me to play for last year. I think the team will surprise some people." Brock had played against a school from his new conference as a freshman in a playoff game. That team was pretty good but he though Corbly was probably better this year than the team he'd faced. Truly, the team compared favorably with Lafayette when it won the district title two years before. "You should come to the game Friday night before you head back," Brock told her. "I think your Mom is coming. She said last week she wasn't sure if you'd be leaving for school on Friday or Saturday. It's a shame Jen won't be back until Sunday." Mel smiled. "She was trying her damnedest to get Dad to let her come back early," she said. "But it was no go. He told her that he only saw her for two months a year and he was going to keep her every day the court said he was allowed to. That didn't make her too happy — not that you could tell much difference." "I offered to pick her up at the airport Sunday but your Mom vetoed that idea," Brock said with a laugh. "I think she's afraid we'll run off to Vegas or something." Mel shot a knowing look at Brock. "Jenny might just want to," she said. "I got so sick of hearing your name that I'd walk away from her every time she started to talk about you. And believe me, she talked about you often." Brock felt a little guilty. His role as quarterback had brought newfound people into his life — including a couple of girls who had expressed not-so-subtle interest in him. But at least he'd always deferred, telling each girl who had asked him to a party or to the movies that he had a girlfriend. He'd only realized the depths of Jenny's anonymity when barely a handful of people he'd met even recognized her name. He'd wished he'd never gone out for football because a hidden existence was all he longed for. But he couldn't complain. Being back on the football field brought him a lot of happiness — an emotion he was sure at one point he'd never experience again. ------- Mel did stick around for Friday's game and she and Leslie were witness to one of the greatest opening game performances in Corbly High School history. The Conquistadors — an homage to the town's Spanish roots, Brock guessed — had played a team they hadn't defeated in almost 10 years. And Corbly beat them handily. The town was abuzz Saturday morning when Mel and Leslie stopped for coffee on their way back to Langley about the football team and the new quarterback that no one knew anything about. It occurred to Mel that he'd been her mother's neighbor for almost three months and she knew nothing more about Brock than the rest of the town. "I've asked him about his past," her mother had told her. "And he flat out told me it was none of my business. I tried to get a friend's husband to run a background check on him but he told me it was useless. Since he's 16 there would be no way to get information even if I had his Social Security number. But I've spent a lot of time with him while you two were away and he seems nice." Mel agreed. "But there's still something about him that strikes me funny," she said. "Or maybe he's just a typical teenage boy and he sees the air of mystery as a benefit. Judging from the conversations from a few of the girls in coffee shop, Jenny better get home soon. Some of those girls are a little too eager to learn more about Brock." Leslie wondered silently how eager her own youngest daughter might be to learn more, too. ------- Brock and Jenny enjoyed a quiet homecoming upon her return. He had greeted her with a warm hug but she'd been the one to grab his jaw and plant a kiss firmly on his lips. The duo spent most of Sunday and all of Labor Day together — in public, much to Jenny's chagrin. Even after two months apart she couldn't convince Brock to try to sneak her into his house. "They'll be plenty of time if we're patient," he told her. "But if we start to sneak around, it'll become a habit. Your Mom is pretty sharp. She told me stories about Melanie's high school days. She's watching you and she knows all the tricks." "It would be easier if you were just a latch-key kid," Jenny said. "Did Mom get the chance to meet your Dad while I was away? I asked her, but she said I should talk to you about it. It was weird." Brock had the urge to tell Jenny the whole story, but he settled for a simple, "No." The first day of school on Tuesday was a whirlwind. Jenny and Brock shared three classes together — not including home room and lunch — so they were together most of the day. Brock was an instant celebrity at the high school. The soccer team had lost its first two games and fans were jumping off one bandwagon onto another pretty quickly. Although Brock didn't enjoy being the center of attention Jenny seemed to relish it. Finally everyone knew her name. She gripped Brock's hand possessively every time they were close together and even managed to sneak a kiss now and then. Since Jenny had no friends from the year before and Brock knew only a few kids from the football team, the teens sat side-by-side at an unoccupied table at lunch. Well, it was unoccupied when they sat down. By the time lunch was halfway over it was filled. Jenny was amazed and intrigued by the number of Saturday night parties she and Brock were invited to — and a bit miffed when Brock politely turned them all down. "Maybe I want to go to some parties," she told him as they walked to English class together. "You should have at least told them we'd think about it before saying no." Brock stopped in his tracks. "I'm sorry," he said truthfully. "I said no because I didn't think the parties we were invited to were your kind of scene. I've been around those types before. They'll be drinking and loud music and, uh, probably some sex stuff." Jenny's face turned red. Brock thought it was from embarrassment but he was wrong. Those were exactly the type parties Jenny wanted to go to. She could do without the drinking and music but she was all for the sex stuff. "I'm sure there will be others," Brock added. "I'll let you make the decision. OK?" Jenny smiled. "I'm sure we'll find something to do Saturday," he said. "If we don't go to a party maybe we can go to the movies or to the lake." Jenny wondered if Brock knew of the lake's reputation as a makeout spot. If he didn't, she would give credence to the rumors if he decided to take her there. "The lake sounds nice," she said. "Let's plan on that for Saturday evening. We'll take a light supper with us and just hang out." Brock might not have been aware of the lake's reputation but Leslie certainly was. After all, Jenny was the youngest daughter. She'd learned things the hard way with Melanie. "I think you two should just get a movie and watch it," Leslie suggested. "Maybe you can spend some quality time getting reacquainted slowly. After all, you've really only known each other less than a month. I think maybe you should know more about him before you rush into anything." Jenny silently fumed. "Mother, Brock is a very nice boy," Jenny told her and Leslie instantly worried. Jenny only used "Mother" when she was angry. "He is a gentleman in every sense of the word," she continued. "But you have to realize a few things. First, we have ample opportunity to do whatever we want. You work and he lives practically by himself. We also have more public venues if we decide to do something you'd disapprove of. "So far the sum total of our physical relationship is kissing. I've tried to get him to do more — it's none of you business what I wanted him to do or how I tried to get him to do it because he wouldn't. If there is one thing I've learned about Brock it's this: if he tells you we're going to the lake to have a picnic and watch the sunset, that's all we're going to be doing. We may mix a couple of kisses and some hand holding in, but that's all." Leslie was forced to make a decision. "Honey, I'm not sure Brock is as forthcoming as you think he is," she said. "I found out some things while you were gone that I don't think he's shared with you." Jenny looked at her mother crossly. "You mean the emancipation thing?" Jenny asked. "He told me about it when I got back. He also said there were some other things he would need to discuss with me in the future but he wasn't sure that now was the right time. "But for your information, he said that it was necessary for us to talk about whatever it is that's bothering him before we go further in our relationship. It's important to him and I agreed that we should wait until he's comfortable enough to share those things with me before we have sex. Are you happy now?" Leslie wasn't sure how to answer that question. ------- As late summer turned into early fall the football team kept cruising along. Brock and Jenny were still doing pretty well but Jenny was starting to get antsy about the physical side of dating. She longed for Brock to put his hands under her sweater or into her jeans. Hell, she'd settle for a couple of caresses on top of the clothing. She enjoyed having Brock as a boyfriend. The couple went to a few parties but Brock was sometimes too sore to want to do much on Saturday nights. It also pissed Jenny off that he watched over he like a mother hen. He insisted that she didn't drink at the parties and he'd warned her about trying to fit in with some of the social cliques that seemed to gravitate toward the couple — well, Brock really. It was nothing to have a couple of Jocks, a couple of Brains and a couple of Debutantes stop to talk to Brock and Jenny in the hallway. Jenny was amazed that Brock seemed to treat each one of them nicely but he never wanted to spend much time with them. Even the party rounds were varied. It was rare for the couple to spend two weekends in a row with the same group of people — even though Jenny had found a group she would prefer to hang out with more. Jenny enjoyed the Jock parties the best. The atmosphere was freer for some reason than the other cliques. At the Debs' houses you had to watch out for expensive items and eat artichoke dip. At the Brain parties — for wont of a better word — you had to discuss computer gaming and global warming. But at the Jock parties you just partied. Jenny just wished Brock would loosen up enough to enjoy them. Wes Mansfield had started to sit beside Jenny in physics class during the second week of school. Only now he knew her name. A week later he started to walk with her from physics class to Brock's locker where the couple met before Spanish class. Brock had known a few Wes Mansfields in his time. Left to his own devices, he might have even turned into one himself. He tried to warn Jenny about Wes and his reputation but Jenny always told him they were just acquaintances. "We're not even friends, really," she insisted with a forced laugh. "Last year he thought my name was Jamie after he sat beside me the whole year copying off my math homework. Are you sure you're not just jealous?" "I'm not sure of that," he told her. "In fact, I'm sure jealousy is part of it. But the Wesses of the world want only what someone else has. I know some of his friends and that's how he operates. Just be careful and don't do something dumb." Privately, Jenny was considering doing just that. She'd come to realize in the last few weeks that Brock was boring. Wes Mansfield was anything but boring. She'd heard the same rumors as Brock had, she was sure. If even half of them were true, boring would be the last word to describe Wes Mansfield. It was the week after Homecoming, on the way to Brock's locker, that Jenny's decision was cast in stone. "Uh, if you and Brock don't work out, maybe we could go out sometime," Wes said. "I mean, I know you're his girlfriend. But if that changes, let me know." Jenny decided that was going to change very shortly. ------- Chapter 4 "We need to set aside some time to talk this evening," Jenny told Brock Wednesday morning before school. Brock was instantly worried. He had been thinking the exact same thing. It was time for Jenny to know the truth. But maybe she already did. That would be terrible. He was also worried about how far his hands had roamed the night before. He and Jenny had been making out pretty heavily and before he could stop himself Brock had slid his hands up Jenny's shirt and cupped her bra-clad breasts. Her nipples stiffened immediately — but so had the rest of her body — and Brock extricated his hands as seamlessly as possible. He hoped she wasn't pissed about that. When Jenny and Brock sat on his porch that evening he could tell from the expression on her face that it wasn't going to be good news. "I think we should see other people," she said without preface. "I'm not comfortable with the way things are going between us." "If this is about my hands last night, I'm sorry," Brock said quickly. Of all the scenarios he'd considered, this wasn't one of them. Jenny laughed at him — literally at him. "In a way it's exactly about that," she said. "You don't seem the least little bit interested in going farther. I was actually happy about where you hands went last night until you jerked them away. "No, this is about a lot of things. When we first got together we had a lot in common. But my interests have changed. You're still happy sitting right here on Saturday nights. Even when we do socialize you won't let me have any fun. You watch me like a hawk to make sure I'm not drinking or skinny dipping and to make sure I'm home before curfew." Brock took a deep breath to try to regain his cool. "I just think I've outgrown you in the last few months," she continued and any strides Brock had made toward composure were gone. "You've outgrown me?" he said louder than he'd wanted. "What in the fuck does that mean? Do you realize that if it weren't for me you'd still be the little girl no one knew? Hell, when school started I had to introduce you to people you'd been in class with for 10 fucking years. "Those people don't really like you. They like you because you date me. Do you think you'll get invited to parties without a boyfriend everyone wants there? Fat fucking chance." Then it dawned on him. "But you won't have to worry about that," he said. "You'll be going with that pot-head Mansfield. You're right. If that's the kind of life you're after, we should break up. You're too fucking stupid for me to date any longer." Brock turned and walked in the house leaving a stunned Jenny sitting on his porch. ------- The regular season had only two more football games left when Jenny dumped Brock but the time seemed to fly by. He was surprised on Saturday after the final regular-season game to see Mel waiting for him on his porch. She had a binder in her hand and serious look on her face. "May I come in?" she asked. Brock was taken aback. No one from the Miles clan had stepped foot in his house. "Sure, if you promise your mom won't come over with a shotgun," he said. He had no idea of what Melanie wanted, but he was sure it wasn't good. Leslie had paid him a visit on several occasions since the break up to try to get the low down. But he simply told her that Jenny would be a better source for information since it was her decision. He tried that tact with Mel as soon as she walked in. "Listen, I know Jenny is trying to date a scum wad," he said. "There's nothing I can do about it and I probably wouldn't do anything about it if I could. Your Mom made it clear from the beginning that she didn't want Jenny to become too attached to me. She's gotten her wish. But in a week or a month, I'll lay you a hundred bucks that she wished to God it was me dating your sister. "The worst part is I was really starting to trust Jenny. I was really thinking I'd found someone I could open up to. I'm glad I didn't do that though." "Hey, easy there," Mel said. "I told Jenny she was an idiot. I think she's starting to realize it, too. She thought Wes Mansfield would be her boyfriend the day after you weren't. But it turned out he already had a couple of girlfriends lined up — at least for a night or two. I tried to tell her about guys like that but, as I'm sure you've learned, Jenny is never wrong. No, I need to talk to you about something much more important than my retard sister. Do you mind if we sit?" Melanie sat across from Brock and opened her binder. She spread a couple of things out on the kitchen table and started to speak. "We're doing a case study in my ethics class," she said evenly. "It's a local case involving bribery, extortion, conspiracy and public corruption but it has farther reaching implications." Brock closed his eyes tightly. "How much do you know?" he said softly. "Most of it," she answered. "Maybe all of it. We've been studying it all semester. The professor would hand out study guides each week with different facets of the case. It was fascinating. At first all we got were newspaper accounts and rumors. Then we started to get copies of the court transcripts. "He had redacted all the names but last month in one of the printouts there was a grainy photo. I recognized you immediately." "Shit," Brock hissed. "Who all have you told? You've known about this for a month and just now came to see me. Jesus Christ." "I've spent the month at the library," she said defensively. "I've pulled every newspaper article I could find right up until the middle of May. That's about the time you moved here, right? We're not supposed to have the information I've found until right before the final. I guess I'm cheating a bit but I have a personal interest." "It is the time I moved here, yes," Brock said. "But if all you've read are newspaper accounts you don't know shit. Let along most of it or all of it. I can almost guarantee you that I'm one of a few people who knows every fucking sordid detail." Melanie didn't want for this to turn into a confrontation. In fact, she'd hoped she would be able to convince him to tell her family the whole story. "I'm sorry about your Mom," she said sadly. "She was so young." "It just got to be too much for her," he told her with tears in his eyes. "She just couldn't take it anymore." Brock stood up to get a tissue and made an instant decision. He walked to his closet, unlocked his trunk and pulled out a cardboard box. He hefted it onto the table and opened the lid. "Here's everything," he said. "You're welcome to look through it or we can take it over to your house and we'll all go through it together. There are some things on top that are confidential. You can't discuss them with anyone until after December first. This should help you ace the class." Melanie looked at the box and then up at Brock. "I don't really care about the class," she said. "I never would have said a word to you until you brought up the subject. But I can't do that now. "Have you looked at the playoff schedule?" Brock shook his head, wondering where she was going with this. "If you win Friday and Lafayette wins Friday you'll play each other in the second round." Brock put his head back and gazed at the ceiling. "Shit," he muttered. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" ------- Brock put the things back into the box as Melanie went to tell her family that Brock wanted to speak to them. He was walking in the Miles' front door when he heard Jenny's voice. "I don't care what he wants," she said. "I have more important things to do. Wes is picking me up in a little while and I've got to get ready." Leslie and Mel both started to castigate Jenny. "It's very important," Melanie said. "It's taken a lot for Brock to come over here and talk to us. I think the least you can do is listen to what he has to tell us." Leslie started to add her two cents when Brock interrupted. "She's right," he said. "It's not that important to anyone but me. You two can fill her in later if she wants to know. Would it be alright if I came back in an hour?" Melanie grabbed Brock's arm. "No, she can get ready while you talk to us," she said. "She's too caught up in herself to care about anyone else." As Brock recounted the story, Leslie and Melanie saw their emotions go from one extreme to the other. They went from angry to mortified to maudlin in the space of 45 minutes. By the time Jenny came back down the steps, both women were openly weeping and Brock was staring at the floor. "So that's it," he said. "That's pretty much the answer to every question you've had since I moved in. Are you satisfied now?" Jenny was instantly interested. "What did I miss?" she asked hurriedly. "Give me the Cliff's Notes version." Leslie looked up sadly. "There is no Cliff's Note version to this," she said quietly. "If he didn't show me all of this stuff I wouldn't have believed it. I still can't understand how it could have happened. But I understand so much more about you." Jenny started to sit down at the table but a car horn sounded out front. She was torn. Part of her wanted to stay and go through the box and see what lay inside. But part of her wanted to grasp onto a fantasy she'd carried for five years — a date with Wes Mansfield. "Boring Brock will be here tomorrow," she thought. "This might be one shot with an exciting guy like Wes." And she headed for the door without another word. ------- Brock was sitting on his darkened front porch that night. It had been a rough day and tomorrow didn't look too rosy either. After a long discussion with Leslie and Melanie, Brock called his football coach and made an appointment to speak to him the next afternoon at his home. He wasn't looking forward to reliving that portion of his life again, but he figured he might as well get used to it. Once word got out, he'd be stuck telling the story over and over again for the next few months. Once everything was settled for good, it would be even worse. "Fuck," he swore under his breath. He was drawn from his thoughts by the sound of two car doors slamming. He glanced at his watch — it was after 1:30 a.m. Jenny was in some serious trouble tomorrow, he thought. "Stop it, Wes," he heard Jenny say in a slurred voice. "I don't want to do that. I barely know you." He could tell Jenny and Wes were at the side of his house that was nearest the Miles kitchen. It was farthest away from Leslie's bedroom. "Too fuckin' bad," he said. "I took you to a party, gave you all your booze for free and let you smoke for nothing. It's time to pay up and a blowjob is the least you're getting away with." "You're hurting me," Jenny said. She was trying not to wake her Mom but Brock knew she was too loud to keep that from happening. He contemplated just leaving her to her own devices. It would serve her right, he thought. The last time I tried to help someone look what it got me. But he knew he couldn't. He moved into the shadows beside his house. Jenny's shirt was torn and Wes was trying to pull her head to his crotch as she resisted. "Maybe you should let her go, Wes," Brock said as he stepped from the shadows. "What the fuck?" Wes hissed. "Are you fuckin' stalking her?" Brock stepped closer to the much smaller boy. "As a matter of fact, I am," he said. "There's only room for one fuckin' psycho in Jenny's life and I was here first. So if you want to have all your teeth in your head and still be able to play soccer in the morning, I suggest you let go of her, walk quietly back to your car and drive away. "You can consider me letting you keep your ability eat solid food as your payment for the night." "This isn't over, bitch," Wes said to Jenny as he walked away. But when Brock took a quick step toward him, Wes broke into a sprint toward the car. He sped away before the door was even shut. Jenny turned and went into the house without a sound. "You're welcome," Brock whispered to the closing door. Upstairs, Leslie had heard the end of the conversation. She was furious at her daughter and it would be a cold day in hell before she stepped foot out the house again without a chaperone. As she waited for her daughter at the top of the stairs another thought entered her mind. "After all that boy's been through he still stepped in," she thought. "I don't know if I would have." ------- Chapter 5 The drive to Coach Jefferson's house was long but Brock hardly noticed. He was rehearsing his speech in his head and occasionally aloud. The coach answered the door with a smile which quickly became a look of concern when he saw how tired Brock looked. Brock didn't even wait for the coach's questions before he took the lid off the box and started in. "My name is not Brock Miller," he began. "Well, it is. But it hasn't always been. Until the first of June my name was Jordan DeVoe. I spent from the end of November two years ago until early April of last year in Emery Facility for Youthful Offenders when bond was denied. From April of last year until May 22nd of this year I was housed at Wallingford Maximum Security Penitentiary." Brock looked at the floor. No matter what the truth, he was ashamed of what he had to say next. "I was convicted of attempted rape, attempted forced gross sexual imposition, two counts of aggravated assault with a deadly weapon..." He met his coach's eyes. "And felony murder. My sentence was 40 years to life in prison. My conviction was overturned in May and the county decided not to retry me. I was released from prison on May 22nd. I changed my name, was granted emancipation and moved here in June." Alex Jefferson had grown up in inner-city Detroit where everything that the boy across from him had said was commonplace. He'd met rapists and thugs and murderers in his life. He prided himself on being a good judge of character and Brock's confession didn't jibe with the boy he'd gotten to know in recent months. But it certainly explained the thousand-yard stare his quarterback often got on bus trips or before games. He just seemed to disappear inside his own head during those times. Alex remembered think to himself during one of those times: "That's the look cons get after a while." "I think you should tell me the whole story, son," Coach Jefferson said. "I think there's more to it than what you're telling me if the amount of documents in this box is any indication." Brock nodded. "I was the starting quarterback at Lafayette High School two years ago," he said. "If they win this weekend, we'll play them in the second round of the playoffs. I wanted to tell you and the team about it before the news folks got hold of it." Coach Jefferson motioned for Brock to continue. "It started the day after Thanksgiving two years ago," he said. "I was walking in the woods behind the house in Lewis County I lived in with my mom. I heard some kids running through the woods and a few minutes later I came upon them in the clearing. "There were three boys and a girl. I recognized the girl as my neighbor from about a mile or so away. She was a year younger than me. But I didn't recognize the boys. They were older. By the time I got to the clearing the girl was almost naked. She was struggling with the boys but two of them were holding her down while the third boy tried to get undressed. She was screaming and calling them by name and yelling for them to stop. "I grabbed a fallen limb from a tree and ran toward them. The boys were focused on the girl and didn't even notice me even when I yelled at them to leave her alone. I hit the boy who was standing in the back of the head with the piece of tree and he dropped to the ground. Then I hit the boy closest to me across the face. He fell over, too. But the wood broke and the third boy got to his feet and tackled me. "During the struggle I saw an opening and I punched him in the throat. He clutched his neck and stopped fighting me. By the time I got to my feet I saw the girl running toward the trees. I waited for the police to come but then I had to run home and call them myself. The second boy had a broken jaw and a concussion. When I hit the first boy it caused severe damage to his neck and spinal cord. He was left paralyzed. The boy I hit in the throat died on the way to the hospital. I had crushed his larynx. "I told the police who the girl was but by the time they got everything sorted out at the scene and went to her house, she and her parents were gone. When the police took statements from the two attackers, their version was far different from mine. Well, it was the same but the roles were reversed. "They told the police that they came upon me attacking the girl in the meadow. When they tried to intervene I attacked them with the broken limb. When the cops tracked down the girl and her parents a few days later, for some reason she told the police the same story: that I was the one who tried to rape her. Her parents told the cops that she was so scared of what I'd done to the guys who'd tried to help her that she convinced her parents to take her to her aunt's in Nevada. "I was arrested and charged on Monday morning just before school. My mom tried to hire an attorney but no one would take the case. It wasn't until my arraignment that I found out why. The boy I paralyzed is the son of the county sheriff and the second boy is the son of a prominent local businessman. "I found out later that the boy I killed was the illegitimate son of the county prosecutor, but I didn't know it at the time. They were all college students home for the holiday. The girl essentially disappeared. My attorney filed motion after motion to force her to come forward and testify but the state didn't call her as a witness and we could never locate her to serve the subpoena. She was just gone. "There was little or no physical evidence. By the time the cops located the girl the only thing she had were a couple of scratches. The only skin under my fingernails was from the guy who died, but that didn't matter. At the trial it was essentially their words against mine. I guess you know who the jury believed. "We immediately appealed the conviction. The original judge denied it but we filed again to the next level. In October of last year an appellate court threw out the rape conviction and the murder charge went with it because without a predicate felony it wouldn't stand up. "In December I was appointed a new attorney by the appellate court. My original attorney bailed when the money ran out. My new attorney really started the ball rolling. By March we found out who the father of the boy who died was. The appellate court ate that right up and ordered a new trial on everything — and granted a change a venue that had been denied twice before. "My attorney also found a couple of interesting money trails that led back to one of the other boy's fathers. By the time she was done the whole thing unraveled. "It seems that the local businessman had paid off the cops and the judge and even a couple of jurors on the case, not to mention my first attorney. The sheriff had destroyed evidence that was found under his son's fingernails — the girl's skin — and hidden the fact that the boys were high on crystal meth when the incident occurred. "My new trial was set to begin in May but Lewis County decided not to retry me. I filed a lawsuit again the City of Wilkins, Lewis County and each individual involved in the case. "That's still pending, as are the bribery and conspiracy charges against the parents and the attempted rape charges against the boys. This is all probably going to come out in a week or so. I should have told you earlier, but I didn't think it had any bearing on anything. "As it stands now, I'm completely exonerated. The rest of it is private." Coach Jefferson nodded. "I wish you felt you could have confided in me," he said. "I understand why you didn't, though. Why were you emancipated? If you don't mind my asking." Jordan nodded grimly. "My mother died of a heart attack a year ago in September," he said. "She was the only person who stuck by me during this whole thing. The people I thought were my friends deserted me. No one stuck up for me. No one believed in me. I wrote my girlfriend from jail and she didn't even bother to write back. She just left without even a word. The whole town used to cheer for me on Friday nights. But they completely turned their backs on me when I needed them. "But not my mom. I tried to get her to move on but she stuck it out with me. Then she was gone. I, uh, got into a lot of fights in prison. I was in 23-hour lockdown almost the whole time I was in juvie before trial — something they pointed out during the trial, I should add, to lend credence to my violent nature. Then when I got sent to Wallingford, it was worse. I was in with some real hard cases. They didn't see eye to eye with me on most things — the most important being my person and my belongings. "I was in six fights the first week I was there. By mid summer I was in administrative segregation. I was in lockdown 23 hours a day. That's where I was when my mom died. The judge wouldn't even let me out to go to the funeral. "I didn't care any more after that. My new attorney took over as administrator for Mom's estate. When we knew I was getting out I had her sell the place. It had been in the DeVoe family for six generations. But I didn't want it. Jordan DeVoe died the same day my mother did. "My attorney got a pretty good chunk of money for the land and with the lawsuits flying all over the place anyway, the judge had no problem quietly changing my name and granting me emancipation. The alternative was a group home or foster care and he knew my attorney would have more ammunition to fire in the civil case." Coach Jefferson's face didn't belie the emotions roiling through his brain. He prided himself on being a man of action. He was certain that if he was in Brock's shoes on the day after Thanksgiving two years before he would have reacted the same way. But now all he could think about was trying to find a way to make every fucking person in Lewis County pay for what they had done to this boy. "I think you should plan to tell the team tomorrow before practice," he said. "I was planning on a short film session but I think the sooner, the better. I'd hate for a news crew to catch wind of who you were and ambush one of our dumber guys. It's hard to tell what might be said." Brock actually smiled. "Yeah, I guess you're right," he said. "I'm hope this doesn't affect anything with them." Coach Jefferson put his band on Brock's shoulder. "I'll make sure everyone — and I do mean everyone — understands that you were completely and totally exonerated of wrongdoing," he said. "I'll make sure everyone knows that you weren't released on a technicality but because you didn't do the crime." Brock left wondering if he should have told Coach Jefferson and Leslie Miles earlier. ------- Mel was waiting for him when got back from the coach's house. Brock was tired and he didn't feel like dealing with any of the Miles women today. "Can I help you," he asked coolly. Then he apologized. "I'm sorry, Mel," he said. "That was rude of me. I appreciate you making sure I knew what was at stake and the fact that you protected my secret. It means a lot to me and you don't deserve a bunch of shit from me because I'm not in a good mood." "I just stuck around to see you for a second before I go back to school," she said. "I wanted to let you know that no one will hear the story from me. I mean any of the story." "It won't matter," Brock said. "In a day or two everyone will know. You might as well take some of the paperwork back with you and at least get the real story out. If the professor is using only newspaper and official court transcripts, you'll miss the truth. "Take the records my attorney produced. Take Eric Venable's birth certificate — that's the real shocker. The newspaper never picked up on the fact he was the DA's son. Take anything you want except my copies of the civil suit. You can have those for show and tell after December first." Melanie looked at Brock for a few seconds. "Tell you what," she said. "If you make that offer next weekend — after you've had a little time to think, I might take you up on it." Brock gave the startled girl a hug. "You're right," he said. "I might regret it later. You might start writing for the National Informer or something. I have everything stored on a CyberSave account. I'll call you this week and give you both passwords. I change them every couple of days, not that I'm paranoid or anything." Melanie laughed. Brock was always pleasant, but now he seemed actually to be happier. "It won't matter," he said again. "Everyone will know once football practice is over, that is if Jenny doesn't blab it all over school first. I should have asked your Mom not to say anything about it until tomorrow night." It was Melanie's turn to smile. "Yeah, about that," she said, "she's treated you like crap. Even last night she didn't thank you and she was actually kind of pissy about the whole thing this morning. Not about the fact that asshole was going to force her to blow him, but about the fact you interfered and now Wes will never ask her out again. So we've decided she can find out from someone else. If you want to tell her, fine. But I told her this afternoon — and mom agreed — that you'd let us into your confidence because we are your friends. She obviously is not your friend, so she stays outside your confidence." Brock expelled a deep breath. "I'll probably tell her," he said. "She deserves an explanation about why I acted the way I did around her." "She doesn't deserve a damned thing," Mel said hotly. "Well, she deserves a kick in the ass, but Mom is arranging that as we speak. Oh, Jenny wanted to come over this afternoon but she's grounded. No dates, no phone, no computer, no nothing. She's grounded until Christmas. The stupid little bitch still had a bag of smoke in her pants pocket for God's sake. She wants you to come visit her at our house tonight." Brock shrugged and sighed. He had hoped Jenny would realize her folly and come back to him. She hadn't been invited to any parties the first two weekends after the break up. In fact, very few people had talked to her at all. But Wes Mansfield still had his sights on her and kept stringing her along. Well, everyone had told her about him. She went anyway. Now Brock was sure he didn't want anything more to do with Jenny Miles — popular or unpopular. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. "When you get back over let her know that I anticipate that I'll be extremely busy tonight and that it's probably better if we confine our conversations to school in the spirit of her punishment," Brock said and Melanie couldn't help but break out laughing. She liked the new facet of Brock's personality that had emerged since he unburdened himself. She wouldn't mind coming back home every weekend like her mom wanted her to. She surprised the young man with a light kiss on the lips. "No one seems to say thank you to you," she said softly. "So I will. Thank you. For what you did for that girl, for what you did for Jenny last night. They're both shitheads, but no one deserves what those boys tried to do to them." She noticed Jenny watching out the window and Mel stepped up to Brock and kissed him again, this time longer and with more feeling. "And that's a thank you for the help you've offered for my class," she said. "Just wait and see what you get when I get an A in the class." Melanie headed back to her house, leaving a stunned Brock on his porch and an irate Jenny peering out the window. ------- Chapter 6 Jenny cornered Brock before school on Monday morning. "What's all this shit about?" she demanded. Brock looked at her with a bored expression on his face. "You'll have to be a little more specific," he said. "I have a lot going on right now and your little dramas are far down on my list." Jenny's face turned crimson. "Fine, I'll be specific," he snarled. "What is that shit with you threatening to beat up my date? What is that shit with telling my mom and sister your big secret but leaving me out? What is that shit with Frenching my fuckin' sister right in front of me? There, specific enough?" Brock shook his head. "OK, I'll go in order," he said. "First, it was about stopping you from being sexually assaulted. Second, it is none of your business. Third, it is none of you business either. Got all that or do you want the Cliff's Notes version?" Jenny followed Brock as he headed down the hallway to homeroom. Finally she got close enough to grab his arm. "You don't think he really would have, um, you know, made me?" she asked quietly. "He was just playing. He would have stopped in a minute. He was just letting me know he liked me." Brock's eyes almost popped out of his head. "Are you out of your fucking mind?" he said a lot louder than he'd meant to. "Of course he would have, um, made you. He had his tiny little pecker out and was forcing your head toward it. When, exactly, do you think Wes would have stopped from raping you if I hadn't shown up?" Suddenly the hallway was deathly silent and half the eyes turned toward Brock. The other half turned toward Wes Mansfield who was standing a few feet away. "What the fuck did you say, Miller?" Wes demanded but Brock didn't back down. "I said you tried to rape her, you piece of shit," he snarled as he headed toward the smaller boy. "You tried to force her to have sex with you and you ran like a little pussy when I threatened to kick your ass. Would you like me to repeat that because I sure as fuck will? I'll also offer to kick your ass again if you'd like to put on another demonstration about how fast you can run." Coach Jefferson walked out his room and saw the two boys staring at one another. He put his hand on Brock's shoulder. "Let's just take a step back for a minute," he said. "Mansfield, if you want to fight him I'll go back in my room and you can have at it. But if you want me to put a stop to it, just nod your head and I'll take Mr. Miller to the office." Wes stood scarlet-faced. "The little cunt's not worth it," he said. "He tried to rape me Saturday night," a small voice said. Then the voice became louder. "He tried to force me to have sex with him Saturday night. He would have made me, too, if Brock wasn't still awake." "Yeah, he was sitting outside your house like a fuckin' stalker," Wes said. "He's fuckin' stalking you and you're too scared to say anything about it." "I'm her neighbor, you moron," Brock said. "You tried to force her to give you a blowjob right outside my window. You had your tiny little needle dick out and everything. Don't worry, it'll get bigger once you hit puberty." Suddenly a new voice broke through the laughter. "He did the same thing to me," another girl said. "He got me drunk and high then made me suck his dick. He said I owed him." "I had to blow two of his friends this morning in the parking lot," a third girl said. "Then he stuck his little thing in me without a rubber." Wes tried to force his way through the crowd but a pair of strong hands — one belonging to Brock and the other to Coach Jefferson — held him firm. "I think you'll need to come to the office," Coach Jefferson said. "And I'm going to ask Mr. Miller here to provide security for our little trip. "Anyone with anything they'd like to report about Mr. Mansfield and his friends that happened on school property should come to the office after first period. If you want to report something anonymously, you can leave a note under my office door. I anticipate that those of you with complaints about something that happened outside of school grounds may have to contact the police. I highly recommend that you do that and that each of you pay a visit to either the guidance counselor or the school nurse to discuss getting some help dealing with the situation." Brock managed to slip away from the office before things got too crazy but not before Coach Jefferson pulled him aside. "I'm glad this turned out differently than the other time," he said softly. "I hope you know that most people aren't like those where you used to live." ------- Jenny was waiting outside Brock's second period class. Before he even thought about it, he had her wrapped in a tight hug. With just those few words before homeroom, she'd brought back much of the faith in humanity that he'd feared he had lost forever. "Sorry," he said as he pulled away. "I'm sorry. Are you OK?" He could see Jenny had been crying. "Could we please just ditch the rest of the day?" she asked. "Let's skip school and just go somewhere." Brock shook his head sadly. "I can't today," he said. "I'd like to. But today is a day I have to be at practice. If I skip a class I have to miss practice, too. And I can't today." He dug in his backpack for a second. "Here, take my car and head back to your house," he said as he tossed her the keys. "Or you can go to my house and sleep all day. I heard your mom took your computer and TV out of your room, so you can hang out and use mine if you want. But you need to be home when you're supposed to be. And I'll swear you stole my keys if you get caught by your Mom." Jenny looked up at him wide eyed. She batted her eyes and wet her lips. "Are you sure you can't skip for a little while?" she asked shyly. It was very cute, Brock thought. "Maybe for an hour or two? Or three or four?" "Sorry, Jen," he steeled himself and replied. "That part of our relationship is over. But there are some things we need to talk about and to get straight. That's just one of them. I'll come over to your house after practice. By the way, if you go to my house, don't bother trying to find my secret stuff. It's in a box with a double combination lock. As good as you are at math, I don't think even you could produce all the possible combinations in the time you'll have. Well, you might be able to get it open. You are pretty smart, but I doubt you'd have time to read all the stuff in there." Jenny looked startled. Is this what he really thinks of her? She guessed she couldn't blame him. She'd been a pretty big bitch to him the last month or so. "I'd never betray your trust that way," she said earnestly. Brock couldn't help it, he replied before he thought. "No, of course not," he hissed. "You'd just betray my trust by letting me get close to you and then dumping me and going out with any guy who might fuck you and making sure I knew about it." Jenny was mortified but she knew it's exactly how she'd been acting. Her mother and Mel had pointed that out to her Sunday morning. "Sorry," Brock said quickly. "That only came out the way I meant it. I guess we should add the fact that I've been hiding my true feelings to what we need to discuss. "I'll catch a ride home after practice. Leave my keys in the mailbox so I don't have to ask your mother to get them." Jenny kissed Brock on the cheek and headed off toward the parking lot. ------- The conversation with the team went from easy to difficult in just a couple of seconds. "So you like killed a dude and got away with it?" one of the dumber guys asked. "Cool." Brock shot a quick look at Coach Jefferson who was shaking his head sadly. "It was not cool," Brock assured the guy. "I spent 18 months in prison with a bunch of guys who would just as soon kill you as look at you. I was 14 years old and I was in a cell block with gang members, contract killers and serial murderers. It was far from cool. It was scary as hell. I got the hell beat out of me every single fucking day that I was out of lockdown. I finally took a swing at a guard so I'd be sent to solitary confinement. For almost a year, I spent 23 hours a day in an 8-foot-by-10-foot cell with no contact with anyone except for a guard. I never saw sunlight. I was allowed outside for one hour a day, usually in the middle of the night. And my mother died and I couldn't even go to say goodbye. "What the fuck is cool about that?" The poor dumb bastard looked crestfallen. "I just thought," the guy started but Coach Jefferson slapped him on the back of the head. One of the sophomores looked up. "So, you were convicted of raping a girl, right?" he asked. "You killed a guy and left another guy in a wheelchair, right? You spent almost two years in prison, right? But you say you're innocent. How do we know that the other guys aren't telling the truth? How do we know that you didn't just beat the system?" Brock looked at the coach. "I've seen all of Mr. Miller's paperwork," Coach Jefferson said. "He was wrongly convicted. In fact, if it had happened anywhere but where it did, I don't think he would have ever been arrested, let alone convicted. But it still happened. He was exonerated. That means his innocence was proven. If you have any further need for verification, please stop by my office afterward. That goes for any of you. I'll answer any questions I can regarding why Mr. Miller is here and not there." Brock figured it wouldn't take long for news to travel but he was still surprised to see Wes Mansfield and two of his friends waiting outside of his house when Coach Jefferson dropped him off. "Want me to handle this?" Coach Jefferson asked. "I'd be happy to." "No, I'm sure he thinks he and his two girlfriends can scare me," Brock replied. "But hang tight here in case he gets stupid." Brock hadn't even stepped foot out of the coach's truck when Wes started. "Well, Miller," the soccer player said. "I guess it takes one to know one, huh? At least I'm only accused and not convicted. You're a hypocrite besides being a convicted sex offender." Wes stood there as if daring Brock to say something. "The word for today is exonerated," Brock said. "That means to have one's guilt refuted legally. I was exonerated completely. That means I didn't do it. You, on the other hand, are still a piece of shit. "But," he said as he stepped just an inch from Wes' face. "One thing you seemed to have missed. I also was convicted of killing the rapist and paralyzing one of his friends." Brock tried his best for an evil grin — and it must have worked because Wes cringed. "That part is actually true." He glanced at Wes' two buddies. "I've already picked out who gets the first part. Either of you assholes wish to volunteer for the second?" All three boys were moving toward their cars before the words were out of Brock's mouth. "Wes, don't come around here again," Brock said. "I promise you won't like the outcome." Coach Jefferson gave Brock a worried look. "Don't worry, Coach," Brock said. "I wasn't threatening physical harm. I was careful how I worded everything. And if he comes around again I'll simply call the police and say he's harassing Jenny — a potential witness." ------- Jenny was sitting at her kitchen table when Brock knocked on the door. "Be careful," she said when she opened the door. "Wes and two of his friends were waiting for you. They said all kinds of shit about you before I threatened to call the police on them if they didn't get off my porch." Good news sure travels fast. "I, uh, convinced Wes and his friends that it wouldn't be prudent for them to hang around our neighborhood much anymore," Brock said with a sigh. "So don't worry about them. What were they saying about me?" Brock wanted to address the initial concerns before he went across for the paperwork to back up his story. "They said you spent five years in prison for rape," Jenny said with a sour look on her face. "It was only 18 months," Brock said softly. "And I didn't do it." Jenny's couldn't keep her mouth from gaping. "You mean they were telling the truth," Jenny said angrily. "You went to prison for rape. Jesus Christ, Brock. No wonder you kept it a secret. You're a fuckin' rapist!" Brock sighed again. "Actually, the primary charge that sent me to prison was felony murder," he said. "The charges were felony murder, assault with a deadly weapon and attempted rape. So, no, they weren't telling the truth. I went to prison for murder, not rape. Does that make it better for you?" Jenny couldn't get words to form. She just stared at him. "If you'll sit and allow me to tell you the whole story, I think you'll understand," he said but Jenny was shaking her head. "I don't want to be alone with you," she managed to say. "I think you should go home. Get out of here before I call the police." Brock held up his hands in surrender. "Ask your Mom when she comes home," he said. "I'm sure she'll be able to answer your questions. As for your reaction, I guess there's nothing I can say about that. But I don't want you to feel uncomfortable thinking you live next to a murderer and a rapist." "By the way, Jenny," he said as he stormed out the house. "You can kiss my ass. You had your chance to hear the whole truth and you decided you had better things to do. So from now on I don't want anything to do with you. I wouldn't rape or murder you if you were the last woman on Earth." ------- Chapter 7 Brock did his best to ignore the constant pounding on his front door but finally gave up and answered. "Well, I knew it would be one of you," he said when he saw Leslie standing outside. "I had a bet with myself as to who it would be. My left side lost and has to do the dishes tonight." Leslie didn't laugh even though Brock thought he was hilarious. "Jenny has been in her room crying for the last three hours," Leslie said. "I'd like for you to come and talk to her." "No." "No, what?" Leslie asked. "No, ma'am?" Brock asked. "That's not what I meant," she told him. "I meant why not." Because I don't give a flying fuck if she feels bad, Brock thought. It was a good thought, he decided. "Because I don't give a flying fig if she feels bad," he said, editing himself slightly for content. "She should feel badly. I hope she's miserable. Because that's how she made me feel. And not just this afternoon. "I don't care if she's unhappy. I don't care what she wants and I don't care what she might need. I think I said everything I care to say when I left this afternoon. If you must, you can tell her that I said there is no need to apologize and there is no need to feel badly. Your daughter is a very intelligent young woman. But she's a common sense retard. "Somewhere along the way you've forgotten to introduce to the concept of consequences. I saved her from one of her bad choices the other night and she escaped the ramifications of her actions. That is as far as I'm willing to go and I'm unwilling to let her off the hook again. I have enough to deal with right now without having to worry about your spoiled bitch of a child. That's your job, not mine." He closed the door in Leslie's face. She suddenly realized, after all he'd been through and despite the fact he'd been forced to grow up quickly, Brock was still just a teenaged boy. She'd lost sight of that somehow, she supposed. ------- School was exactly as Brock had suspected it would be: half the kids believed the worst and viewed his as some sort of monster; the other half believed the best and viewed him as some sort of hero. But everyone treated him differently than they had a week before. He wasn't imagining that. One group couldn't make up its mind. There were five or six girls in front of the school when he arrived on Tuesday morning protesting his very presence — they carried very pithy placards that they obviously had spent a good portion of the night working on, Brock thought. One read: "No means no; Miller must go!" Brock guessed someone had clued the group in on the facts during the morning because by lunch time the same girls were carrying hand-drawn posters decrying his "unlawful detainment" and the sorry state of the American criminal justice system in general. The leader of the posse didn't smile when Brock mentioned he was happy that he'd given them a purpose. "Right or wrong doesn't seem to matter," he told her. "As long as you have a reason to pissed off you're happy as hell." He also mentioned that her group should have kept the nice-looking signs they'd used in the morning since he suspected there would be an active sexual assault investigation beginning soon against another student. Of course the leader of the small group was a member of the girls soccer team so she didn't find him all that amusing. Oh well. Wes Mansfield was conspicuous by his absence, but only Brock seemed to realize that Jenny wasn't at school either. He remembered the look on Wes' face the day before and Brock slipped outside after homeroom and dialed the Miles' residence. Leslie picked up the phone and Brock let out a sigh of relief. "I just wanted to let you know that Wes didn't come to school today," he told Jenny's mother. "I got a little worried when Jen was absent, too. I, I was just calling to make sure she wasn't in any danger." Brock could almost hear Leslie's smile. "She's fine," Leslie said. "She didn't sleep much last night so I'm keeping her home today. Can I tell her when she wakes up that you called to check on her?" "Yeah," Brock said. "I was a little rough last evening. But she's hurt me pretty badly with her words and actions the last few weeks. I'll stop over after practice assuming I survive the circus at school. I don't know what Jen has in mind, but it's going to be a while before I'm comfortable being her friend again. I hope you and she both realize that." Leslie let the last part of the statement go and focused on the first. "Has it been bad at school?" she asked. "Maybe you should come home, too. I worry about you, too, you know." Brock chuckled. "That's one thing about being a convicted murdered," he said. "People tend to watch what they say and do around you. I'll be OK." ------- True to his word Brock stopped by the Miles house for a few minutes to fill them in his day. Jenny only said a few words to him and she could barely look him in the eye when she spoke. Leslie left the two alone for a few minutes of silence. Brock didn't have anything to say that would have sounded patronizing and Jenny had nothing to say at all. School was more of the same the next day. Jenny sat beside him in the classes she had with him and again at lunch but she kept the conversation to trivialities. Outside of Jenny most of the rest of the students pretty much treated him as they had the day before. It was football practice when things started to get strange. Brock was still pissed that some of his teammates had started the rumor mill before they'd even left the parking lot on Monday and he didn't mince words with the ones who been the most active callers. "I don't give a fuck if you talk about me," he told one sophomore. "But if you're going to chat like a little girl at least get the facts straight. I've seen you hanging around with Wes at parties. I figure if you weren't so fat and lazy you'd be playing soccer because you're such a pussy when it comes to contact, but if you're going to tell half the story it's probably best if you keep you mouth shut entirely." The boy tried to stammer something out but Bill Jacobs who finally stepped in. "I think it's probably best if we keep the conversations about our teammates to a minimum, ladies," he said loudly enough for the whole locker room to hear. "I think we've got bigger things to focus on than what Brock did or didn't do two years ago." Coach Jefferson had wondered what he could do to move practice back into form and he was glad Bill had spoken up. He wished it had been one of the seniors but most of them stayed as far away from leadership as they could possibly get. "If I find out someone has been spreading false rumors," the coach told the boys, "things are going to get rough for everyone. If anyone to watch his teammates run steps, that is the quickest way to accomplish it. Am I clear?" It seems everyone got the message but a few of the boys that had tried hard to be Brock's friend a couple of weeks earlier avoided him like the plague. He was used to such treatment, so it didn't bother him — much. The first-round playoff game was a comedy of errors. Corbly seemed to do whatever it could to give the game to its opposition but the opponent seemed just as ready to hand it back. The game wasn't decided until Bill took a punt back 55 yards for the game-winning touchdown with less than 3 minutes to play. Of course Lafayette also managed to win its playoff game so the scene was set for Brock's infamous homecoming to Wilkins. ------- Brock's life was entirely different than it had been a week before. There were no invitations to parties and only Bill and Jenny seemed to go out of their way to speak to him. Brock had done his best to avoid Jenny since the afternoon the week before. He made sure he was never alone with her, much to her dismay at times. He'd stopped giving her rides to school when she broke up with a few weeks before and he declined when she asked him to drive her to class. "I really don't think that's best," he told her. "Your mom goes right past the school, so it's not like you'll be taking the bus. I'm just not comfortable doing that for you." Jenny was obviously disappointed but she didn't push the issue. She wanted nothing more than to take back the last few weeks, to have her life intertwined with Brock's again. He was the star of her nightly dreams again — and she was openly hostile to her sister whenever she called from college and asked how Brock was doing. Brock was spending less time on his porch of the evenings. Jenny was still grounded but she had smiled and waved to him from her window a couple of times. Part of Brock was still angry with Jenny for her reaction but another part was more of a realist. He knew she was one of only a few people who still retained the ability to hurt him. There was no way he'd let her close enough to have the chance again. ------- Melanie's school life was going downhill fast. More and more she wished she'd heeded her mother's advice during the summer and transferred to Branson College. It was only a few miles from Corbly and more and more her thoughts turned back to her hometown. When she visited her Ethics professor and showed him the documents Brock had allowed her access to, the man looked shocked. "He's my neighbor," she told him simply. "When you started the assignment, I had no idea. But then I saw his picture in one of the study packets. I spoke to him this weekend and he told me the whole story. Well, the parts that are finished. "These are not for public dissemination yet but he told me I could fill you in on the details in case it changed the way you plan to present the case." The professor's eyes almost popped out when he saw Eric Venable's birth certificate. "The DA was his father?" he asked incredulously. "Is this real? Look at all this information. Can you help me make sense of some of this? I've been going at this entirely backward. I knew some of it and suspected more of it. But to have it proven. I'm a little overwhelmed." Mel said she was beginning to understand his feelings completely. "I think I'm going to have trouble with your latest assignment," she told the man. "Knowing what I know, I can't come up with a single viable reason that the police didn't explore other suspects — without revealing the whole enchilada." "Don't worry about the assignment," he told her. "In fact, you've just earned your credit for the class. I don't want to reveal your relationship with the boy. I think that's immaterial and it's prejudicial. But I would like to have you help me sift through some of this paperwork and figure out what fits in the class and what doesn't. I mean, we can't reinvent the wheel this late in the term. It would force me to throw out most of what's already been taught." Mel sighed. "I might be a little too close to the situation," she said. "Until a few weeks ago, he was my little sister's boyfriend. He'd never told us any of this. When I mentioned your class to him over the weekend, it forced him to reveal his past not only to my family but to his friends. It's been a rough few days for him and I almost wish I could have just let it be. "I'm not sure this class isn't just another way of this town exploiting him and I'm not sure I want to help with it." The professor looked over his glasses at Mel. "Don't you think you're being a bit overly dramatic?" he asked. Mel shook her head forcefully. "If anything, I'm understating it," she replied evenly. "The boy presented in the case study is nothing like the young man I know. You use expert testimony and newspaper accounts to paint a picture of him that isn't real. You're swayed by his actions and reactions in a jail environment and you discount everything he had done in a civilized society. You've fallen into the same trap as the rest of this community. "The young man I know is intelligent and thoughtful. He's insightful and conversational. Those aren't traits he picked up in prison, I'm sure. The newspapers used snippets of information to convey the story the prosecutor was feeding it. It's as culpable as the rest of the community — yes, I know your brother is the editor and it's 'a small-town rag, ' as the subject of the class refers to it. "But neither you nor this town has taken into account the real toll this case left on a real person. He's flesh and blood, with feelings and emotions. He's been left without anything he grew up with because it was all taken away from him. But I've seen him. He's still a good person and he still does what's right regardless of the cost to him. "It's his humanity you've missed here and you don't seem to want to salvage it. You just want to try to fit the new facts into your old lesson plan." The professor looked thoughtful. "I guess that's what academia is all about," he said finally. "You've presented new evidence. I can't ignore it. Well, I guess I can, but that wouldn't be right. "Plus, someone might find out," he said with a small smile. "I'll cancel class Friday and I hope you and I can meet Monday so we can go over the new scope. Would that work?" Mel looked at her professor in a new light. "Oh, yeah, one other thing," Mel said. "There's a good chance he'll be coming back to Wilkins in two weeks to play a football game against his old school. How interesting will that be?" ------- The news crews had gotten wind of the story earlier in the week. A couple of students or their parents were only too happy to provide the TV stations with sound bytes and the newspaper with pithy quotes. Brock and his small nucleus of friends tried to stay above the fray. Surprisingly it was a couple of students Brock barely remembered from Lafayette who were his staunchest defenders to the media. Of course when things were bad those same students were nowhere to be found so he took the information with a grain of salt. The week leading up to the Lafayette game was a whirlwind of activity. Last season's quarterback pulled everyone aside individually and read them the Riot Act about proper conduct toward a teammate and proper conduct on the field. He saved Brock for last. "I know this isn't what you wanted," he said. "I know you'd change things if you could. But you can't. You can go through the rest of this week dreading the inevitable or you can figure out how to channel all the shit you've taken into something positive. "I can't tell you which way to go. Hell, I can't even imagine what you've gone through and, honestly, I don't think I could handle it if it were me. But you've got to keep your head up. I know you didn't do anything wrong. You know you didn't do anything wrong. "But this thing could drag us all down if you let us. Don't pay attention to the dumbasses of the world. This is going to suck. You know and I know it. But it can't be as bad as what you've gone through before." It was good advice and Brock did his best to pay heed to it. "I'm not focused on the past," was his standard reply to any question about his homecoming. "I'm focused on the future. What happened was tragic, not just for me but for three men and one girl and their families whose lives changed forever, too. I didn't put us in that situation, but it doesn't make me feel any better about what happened." It wasn't the most eloquent of speeches, but it seemed to serve its purpose. ------- Chapter 8 The ride to Wilkins was typical of Corbly's bus trips all season. It was almost a six-hour ride and the players made the trip in silence. Some listened to headphones; some did homework or read books and some, like Brock, just sat and stared straight ahead, supposedly focusing on the task at hand but just as likely thinking about their girlfriends or their cars or what they were planning for lunch on Saturday. The scene that greeted the buses at the stadium was anything but typical. Brock had expected to be met by news crews and reporters but no one could have predicted the number of people waiting outside the field for the team to debark. "You're right behind me," Coach Jefferson told Brock. "I wouldn't speak to the reporters but if you see someone you want to say hi to, go ahead." Brock looked up grimly. "I've got nothing to say to these people," he replied. Brock followed Coach Jefferson through the gauntlet, eyes forward, face expressionless. He saw familiar faces on the periphery; he heard familiar voices coming from the crowd. "We're sorry, Jordan," one voice claimed. "We love you, JD," another rang out. But Brock didn't falter — until he almost had reached the locker room entrance. There they stood, side by side: Tara Wyatt, his first girlfriend, the girl who was the first of many to desert him; shoulder to shoulder with The Girl Who Ran Away, the one person who had the ability to stop his nightmare before it began. Tara tried to touch Brock's arm as he walked past but he jerked away as if shocked. "Please, Jordan," Tara said in a strangled tone. "Please, I just need to talk to you for a minute. I just want to say I'm sorry." Brock clenched his jaw and felt rage course through his body. Then he felt Bill's arm around his shoulder urging him forward. "C'mon, B," Bill said loudly. "These folks had two years to apologize. Don't waste your time on them now. These fuckers couldn't break you no matter how many lies they told." Out of the corner of his eye Brock saw The Girl Who Ran Away recoil as if slapped. "I should have let them have you, Suzy," he thought. "I should have left you to fend for yourself with those animals the same way you left me to fend for myself." But he said nothing and simply headed into the locker room. ------- If the scene outside the stadium was atypical, the scene inside was surreal. His teammates had witnessed the mayhem outside and, after a quick huddle, the seniors asked Coach Jefferson to appoint Brock as offensive captain for the game. "We're proud to have you on our team," Jeff Adams, last year's quarterback, told him. "We want everyone here to know what they've lost when they did what they did." Brock reluctantly accepted the honor. But the surprises weren't close to being finished. As the teams lined up for the national anthem, a voice on the loud speaker directed everyone's attention to midfield where a man stood. Brock recognized him as the school principal. "We have a special presentation to make," the voice on the speakers said. "Two years ago, a young man led the Lafayette football team to heights it had never before reached. Anyone who remembers that team knows what a special player this young man was. Through no fault of his own, this young man was unable to attend our end of the season banquet. You all know the story and this isn't the time to recount it again. "But we'd like Brock Miller to come forward to receive the letterman's jacket he earned two years ago. We remember his as Jordan DeVoe. It is the hope of Lafayette High School that this small gesture can be the start of healing the rift between this young man and our community." Brock glanced at Coach Jefferson who motioned with his head for Brock to go out and accept the jacket. "I'm sorry, son," the principal told him as he reached midfield. Brock muttered an insincere thanks and walked back to the sideline. Everyone on the Corbly side could see the look of cold fury on his face as he walked past the team and motioned for Mel to come to get his gift. "Fucking idiot," he hissed as he handed Mel the jacket. "Heal the rift. Fuck him and fuck this whole town." By the time the whistled sounded to end the game the Lafayette fans had a better idea of just exactly how pissed out their gesture had made not only Brock but Coach Jefferson as well. Ahead by 35 points in the fourth quarter, Jefferson had Brock throwing the ball all over the field. When he finally took him out of the game with less than two minutes to play the entire Corbly side of the field gave him a standing ovation. As the game ended, Brock dispensed with the usual post-game handshakes and headed straight to the locker room, muttering the whole way. ------- The first sight to meet Brock when he headed for the bus was Leslie, Jenny and Mel standing outside the locker room with giant smiles on their faces. The second sight was Tara and Suzy standing right outside the door. "Jordan, please wait," Suzy said. "I didn't know. You have to believe me." "Fuck you, Suzy," he said. "And fuck you, Tara. And fuck anyone who lives in the shithole town." He glanced up to see the three Miles ladies moving swiftly in his direction and shook his head toward them. He met the three of them with hugs a few feet away from where Suzy and Tara stood slack-jawed. "I'm getting on the bus," he said. "The sooner I'm away from here the happier I'll be." Jenny asked Brock if he wanted his new jacket and the look he gave her almost froze the blood in her veins. "I was trying to lighten the mood," she said sadly. "I can't seem to do much right when it comes to you." Brock smiled and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm sorry," he said. "My emotions are a little raw today, as you might have noticed. Hold onto the jacket for me. I don't want it right now but I might at some point when I put all this behind me. Tonight was a good start for that. I think I made a pretty clear statement about what I think of these people. And I'll make a clearer statement on December first when I force the county to admit culpability before I settle the lawsuit. I'll see you guys back at your house. Drive safely." ------- It was after 2 a.m. when the Corbly buses finally pulled into the school and it was almost 3 before Brock finally pulled into his driveway. He was relieved to see his front porch empty, but a small part of him didn't want to be alone. The small part got its wish when Jenny walked out of her house as he came up on his porch. "Are you tired?" she asked. "If you're not, I'd like to visit for a while." Brock was tired. "I think I'm emotionally drained," he told the girl. "Can you give me a little time to recharge my batteries, maybe come back tomorrow afternoon — or, hell, this afternoon, I guess." Jenny put her arm around Brock's shoulder. "Sure," she told him. "I wasn't sure if you would want company or if you'd just want some time alone with your thoughts." Brock smiled ruefully. "I'm not sure myself," he replied. "It's been a very long couple of weeks. Tonight was almost anticlimactic. I wasn't sure how I'd feel about seeing some of the people. I really expected to be madder. But only a couple of people really pissed me off." Jenny nodded. "About that," she said. "Those girls outside the locker room, who were they?" "I was the girl who put him in prison," a voice answered from the night. "I was the girl those boys tried to rape." Brock and Jenny both jumped at the voice and turned to where a girl stood by the side of the porch. "Fuck and holy shit," Brock exclaimed. "What in the hell are you doing here? Of all fucking people you have the nerve to show up at my house? Did you bring Tara with you? You two and Jenny should get together to compare notes. I'm sure if you put your heads together you can find another way to screw up my life." Jenny looked hurt but the girl just looked at the ground. "Jenny, meet Suzy Simpson," Brock said. "The other girl was Tara Wyatt. She was the girlfriend who deserted me when I was wrongly accused. Of course, Suzy is the girl who made sure the accusations stuck. "Suzy, this is Jenny Miles. She is the girl who dumped because I'm not exciting enough for her then threatened to call the cops when I tried to explain about what you did to me." Brock noticed both girls were crying. He suddenly felt much better. If he was going to be miserable, at least he could share the wealth. "Jordan, I swear to God," Suzy said sadly. "I didn't know. I didn't know about any of it until after you were out." Brock snickered. "What, you think aliens came and snatched me up?" he asked. "Sure, a couple of guys in prison tried to give me an anal probe the old fashioned way, but no little green men. Did you think it was a coincidence that I disappeared from school that Monday? Did you hide under a rock and miss everyone from the mayor to my kindergarten teacher tell anyone who'd listen how big a shit I was? C'mon, Suzy, which is it?" Jenny touched his arm. "Brock, maybe you should hear her out before you jump to conclusions," she said. Brock rolled his eyes. "Oh, the irony," he said. "Look who's talking about jumping to conclusions. It would be hilarious if it weren't so God damned sad." Something in Jenny snapped. "OK, I get it," she hissed. "I'm a miserable fucking human being. I confess. I fucked up. I did something extremely stupid — a bunch of things really stupid — and I've regretted it since about two minutes after I did them. But every time I'd try to do something about them you'd throw the last stupid thing I did back in my face. I hurt you. I understand. But eventually you've got to get over it and forgive me." "You don't come close to getting it," Brock rejoined. "Not even close. I trusted you. I don't trust anyone, but I let you in. You were the only person in this world capable of hurting me. And you did just that. Every time I think I'm moving past it, you do or say something that reminds me. So I don't think I'll be forgiving you any time some. Nor will I be forgiving you anytime soon, Suzy. And you can pass along to Tara that she's in the same boat as you and Jenny." Brock started to unlock his door but Suzy stopped him. "I got home that day, Jordan or Brock or whatever you call yourself today," she said loudly, emboldened by Jenny's outburst. "I told my Dad what happened. He sent my up to my room and told me he'd call the police. A half hour later we were on the road to Vegas. We stayed at my aunt's for a week. A cop from Wilkins came and took my statement. I told them exactly what happened." "Exactly what happened," she repeated. "A day later, my Mom told me she had a surprise for me, to help me get over what almost happened to me and what I'd seen you do to those guys. She told me that as a Christmas present they had enrolled me in a school in Paris. You remember how much I loved France, right? But we were going early. I never set foot in Wilkins from the day it happened until five months ago. "My Dad called me in May and told me I had to come home and that he couldn't afford to send me to school over there anymore. I didn't fucking know. The first thing I did when I got home was to try to find you, to thank you. But a new family was living in your house. I assumed you and your Mom had moved away. Finally I ran into Tara. She told me what happened. But you were gone. No one would tell me anything. "I figured out some of what happened. Those bastards paid off my parents. My fucking parents lied to me the whole time. I never would have let anything happen to you. I've been in love with you since we were eight years old." "I never would have let anything bad happen to you," she repeated forcefully. "Never, never, never." Brock's gaze bore into the girl. "I have something I want to show you, Suzy," he said. "Come on in. I assume that since you're five hours away from home in the middle of the night that you're alone, so Jenny, would you come in, too. I don't want anyone to claim I attacked them." "Tara is in the car," Suzy said. "We both sort of ran away." "Get her," Brock said. "Jenny, can you get your Mom? Hell, is Mel home? We'll make it a big party. Call Wes and his friends. Maybe we can get a news crew to stop by." ------- By the time Jenny and Suzy returned with Leslie and Tara, Brock had his box of legal documents out — again. "Suzy, I want you to look carefully at what I'm about to hand you," Brock said as he passed a document to the girl. "Read it aloud, I've heard it before. But I doubt the rest of them have." Suzy scanned the paper. She looked up stunned. "This isn't what I said," she implored. "This is not what I told the cop. I swear it isn't." "Again, cruel irony rears its head," Brock said disdainfully. "If you look at the second page, it will show that you've already sworn that it is what you've told them. Do you recognize your signature? I assume that Brenda Simpson is your aunt? She signed as a witness. Go ahead, read it aloud." Suzy looked at Brock with fright in her eyes. "Read it," he practically yelled. "'I was walking alone in the woods, '" Suzy read. "'It was the day after Thanksgiving. I saw Jordan DeVoe and stopped to say hello to him. Jordan grabbed my arm when I got close and tried to kiss me. I pulled away and he slapped me across the face. I tried to run but Jordan caught me in a clearing. He ripped my clothes off and was preparing to rape me when three guys I don't know heard me yelling and came running. Jordan went crazy. He grabbed a piece of wood and struck the first man who tried to help me. After he hit the second guy, the third tried to run but Jordan chased him down and beat him with the club. I saw him hit the man and then sit on his back. He was choking the man with the stick when I ran to call the police. "'Statement taken by Deputy Travis Rowe of the Lewis County Sheriff's Department at the home of Brenda Simpson, Clark County, Nevada, 29 November.'" Suzy was crying. "That's not what I said," she yelled. "It isn't. They changed everything." Brock just stared at her. "Read the last page," he ordered. "'I hereby affirm and swear that the above statement is true to best of my knowledge under penalty of perjury, '" Suzy continued. "Is that your signature?" Brock asked and Suzy nodded. "Are those your initials on the first page? And your aunt's?" She nodded again. "That was the most damning piece of evidence at the trial," he said. "You flew the coop. Your parents had run off to God knows where. We couldn't locate you to testify, so they read your deposition into evidence as a statement against penal interest. So you'll have to excuse me if I think you're full of shit now." Suzy broke into tears and again professed that what she had told the officer wasn't what was on the paper. Tara had sat quietly. In fact she hadn't spoken a word. "I believe her," she said quietly. "You should have seen her when she came back to town this summer." "I don't care what you think," Brock said through clenched teeth. "You've proven that you don't know fact from fiction. So you can go fuck yourself for all I care." "I'm sorry, Jor ... Brock," Tara said. "I didn't really believe it. But then everyone was saying the same thing. The cops, the prosecutor. Even Suzy. What was I supposed to do? My mom went half crazy. She was convinced you'd raped me, too, and I was just too scared to tell anyone. All my friends turned on me. They threatened to vote me off the cheerleading squad if I had anything to do with you. At the time it seemed important. "I know sorry isn't enough. But it's all I have. I ran into your Mom a month or so before ... well, before you know, uh, she passed away. She just looked right through me. I tried to speak to her. To tell her how sorry I was. But she just ignored me. She just pretended I wasn't there. Then she looked at me. "'You, young lady, are a worthless, shallow person, ' she told me. "'I hope your life is filled with misery and I hope someday you have someone you count on simply leave you without a word.' Then she walked away before I could say anything. I wrote you a letter that night. But Mom found it and tore it up. I know I should have at least written to you. I know all the things I should have done. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Suzy looked hard at her friend. "Tell him the rest," she said softly. "Tell him or I will." Tara shook her head. "It's not important," she said. "I've told him I'm sorry. I can't fix things. So it doesn't matter. The rest is just stuff." "She tried to kill herself," Suzy said quickly. "The day she found out the truth, she was so distraught she took a whole bottle of her Mom's Valium." Brock was unmoved. "Her Mom heard the news about you and came home early from work," Suzy continued unabated. "She found her and took her to get her stomach pumped." "I hope you're not expecting pity," Brock said tonelessly. "If you are, you might try Jenny or Leslie. As bad as things got for me, I never considered that option." "Brock, that's enough," Leslie spoke up but the young man turned his venom on her. "I'm sorry, Leslie," he said with fury in his eyes. "You don't get to decide when it's enough. I hope to never lay eyes on these two after tonight, so I have a few things I'd like to get off my chest. I'll decide it's enough and stop or they'll decide it's enough and leave." Silence filled the room for a few seconds before Brock sighed deeply. "You're right," Brock said. "In fact it was too much. I have a lot of things to work through but taking it out on these two won't make everything all right. It won't start to 'heal the rift.' "Wasn't that the most ridiculous thing you've ever heard," Brock continued with a humorless laugh. "Give me back the 18 months of my life you stole. Give my Mom back the decades stolen from her. Hell, even the 10 months we could have had together would be enough to start healing the rift. Outside of that, there's absolutely nothing that can be done to heal anything. A stinking coat isn't going to come anywhere near to a start and neither does a couple of worthless apologies." Brock looked at Suzy then rubbed his eyes. "Those bastards did so many things to so many people, I can't discount your story out of hand," he said. "I can't say I'm sorry for anything I've said because I'm really not. Even if you're telling the truth you still ran and left me to take the fallout. Even if things had been different, I killed a man to help you. Did you stop to think about that? You've known me for years. How could you think that something like that wouldn't have a profound affect on me even if it wasn't going to prison for 18 months? "And you, Tara, I don't even know how to put into words how much it hurt me to know that the person who knew me best thought I was capable of that crap. Obviously I'm capable of taking another's life. I proved that. But raping Suzy? To me that's the most unthinkable thing in the world — nothing personal, Suzy. I meant to anyone. "Right now I've got too much to think about. I just need to go to bed." Brock stopped suddenly. "What did you mean when you said you two ran away?" he asked Suzy. "Did I imagine that?" Suzy shook her head sadly. "Tara ran away," she said. "My Dad threw me out. I said some pretty terrible things to him when I found out what happened to you. I know he and Mom were in on it. I'm sure that's where the money came from. Don't you see? That's why I had to come home in the summer. Everything was out in the open. My parents couldn't get any more money for their silence, for hiding me away. When you were released, the money dried up. That has to explain it." A though popped into Brock's head. "The school in Paris," he said suddenly. "Was in near Orly? Saint something? St. Bernard, like the dog?" "The next town over," she said. "It was an all-girls school. It's pronounced Saint Burn-urd." "Damn," Brock said as he rummaged through his files. "That's it. We wrote that off as a charitable donation to a church. But it wasn't. It was your tuition and fees. That was a pretty pricey school, let me tell you. "Tom Anderson paid St. Bernard's every Christmas and every July from one of his accounts we subpoenaed. Suzy, I hate to tell you, but your folks are in a lot of trouble." He suddenly got quiet. If her parents found out what was going to happen they likely would flee the country. Brock was certain there was more money changing hands than just Suzy's tuition. He would have to call his attorney first thing in the morning and get her started on this new line. The special prosecutor assigned to the case was going for the jugular of anyone involved. "Let's call it a night," he said finally. "I'm beat. All I wanted to do was go to bed when I got home. I'm sorry for the abrupt end to our discussion but I have to get some sleep." Suzy and Tara looked at one another. "Can we stay here?" Suzy asked. "We don't really have anywhere else to go." Brock shrugged but Leslie shook her head. "Not here," she said. "You can stay at my house. I don't want anyone upset with Brock for housing a pair of runaways. One of you can sleep in Mel's room, the other gets the couch." ------- Chapter 9 The girls might as well have stayed at Brock's house. He wasn't sleeping. He just sat in the recliner and stared at his ceiling. His life had so much potential — maybe it still did — but things just kept getting more and more complicated. It was barely past 7 a.m. when his phone started to ring. He figured it was someone from next door wondering if he were awake. He was partially right. "Hey," a cheerful Mel said into his ear. "Did I wake you? If not, go back to bed and I'll call in a few minutes." Brock actually smiled at Mel's awful joke. "No," he said. "I haven't been to bed yet. I had an interesting night." Mel agreed wholeheartedly and she didn't know half of it. "That was some strange evening," she said. "That ceremony at the school. What the hell was that about? Anyway, I wasn't sure if you knew but Cedar Grove won last night. You'll be playing them at home in the semifinal. I can't wait to get home on Tuesday. "I've been thinking about you a lot," she said softly. Brock remembered the kiss from a couple of weeks before. He had exchanged nightly e-mails with Mel since that Sunday but neither of them had discussed it. "I've been thinking of you, too," he said honestly. He had been wondering what was happening and if was really ready to pursue a relationship with a college sophomore — or if she even wanted to. "Those girls from last night tried to corner me in the parking lot," she told him. "I threatened to kick their asses if they bothered you. I hope that was all right." Brock laughed out loud. "Oh, it's all right," he said. "But I don't think it scared them too much. In fact I think one or both of them might be asleep in your bed right now." He filled Melanie in on his late night visitors. "I should have called you," he said. "But I didn't want to take the chance of waking you. It was almost 3 am before everyone showed up." He could hear the tension in Mel's voice. "If I had a car I'd be there as soon as I could," she said. "It's bad enough that my sister is chasing after you again. Now your old girlfriend and a girl who by all rights should worship you are prowling around, too. "If my Mom starts to come on to you, I wouldn't be surprised." At least she chuckled at the last statement. "You need to keep your affiliation with me as quiet as possible," he told her. "Things are going to get pretty ugly pretty soon. The week after Thanksgiving is when the news about the financial settlement is going to be announced. With what the county and city owe me, my attorney calculated a 12 percent property tax increase to cover the debt." Mel let out a gasp. "Brock, the people down here are bitching about property taxes anyway," she said. "They're going to throw a fit about the settlement." Brock hoped so. In fact he was counting on it. Brock was still chatting with Mel when Jen knocked on his door. "Hey, I got to go," he said. "Jen is here and I've got to call my attorney to let her know what I figured out last night. Her name is Lynn Collingwood. I'll e-mail her number to you in case you need her for anything." Mel wasn't quite happy to have Brock depart when her sister arrived but she was no less happy than Jen when Jen found out Brock had spent almost three hours on the phone with Mel. "Mom wanted to see if you want to come over for breakfast," Jenny said curtly. "But I can see you've been up for awhile so you've probably already eaten. "Even if you have, come on over in a little while. Mom has some things she wants to discuss with you." Brock nodded his head ruefully. "Of course she does," he said. "It's no wonder you spend your first 16 years with a book in your hands. Your family didn't have me living next door to keep you entertained. "I have to make another call and I'll be over." The call to his lawyer went easier than Brock had expected. He spoke to her for 10 minutes and they had a 5 minute conference call with the special prosecutor. He e-mailed her the documents in question and she said she would call him back Monday afternoon with an update after the grand jury met. A quarter of an hour later Brock was sitting at the Miles' table watching three girls and a woman eat French toast and sausage links. "So, Jen tells me Mel called you this morning," Leslie said with a sly grin. "That one I didn't see coming." Brock shrugged as the girls at the table cast a glance in his direction. "Brock, I spoke to Tara's Mom this morning, she's going to stay up here for a week," Leslie continued. "Suzy's parents said they didn't care where she went or what she did. I informed them rather quickly about the state laws holding the parents responsible for truancy and other minor crimes but they didn't seem swayed. I've spoken to a family friend at Social Services; she is willing to draft guardianship papers for Suzy to live with us for a little while. "But I don't want to create more problems for you." Brock looked around the table at three expectant faces. He remembered that hunting season started Monday and school would be canceled for the entire week. It hadn't taken the school board long to figure out that three-fourths of the boys and half the girls were absent during the first week of buck season in Lewis County. "It's not my decision to make," he said. "But in all fairness I should warn you to have the papers signed and notarized before noon Monday." The glances got a little more curious. "Suzy, I'm not sorry for helping you that day," he said. "I was sorry for a long time, but I think you were telling the truth last night. "You know this implicates your parents. They'll be indicted. The special prosecutor promised me, in writing, that she wouldn't accept any plea deals that carried less than three years in prison. My attorney woke the prosecutor up this morning and is probably delivering the documents as we sit here. "Leslie, I don't care who you take in. But I'll not ask anyone to hold off on legal matters to accommodate you. The special grand jury will be convened Monday morning and likely will hand the indictments down by noon. That gives you a very limited timeframe to accomplish this. Once they're indicted, Suzy's parents almost certainly will try to use her guardianship as a bargaining tool. I have the right of refusal on all plea deals. I have to tell you I won't allow it to interfere with my plans." Leslie was stunned by Brock's cruelty. "I don't think it would hurt you to put things off a day or two to get things settled for Suzy," she said in a harsh voice. Brock just shrugged it off. "Just like it wouldn't have hurt her to make a couple of phone calls or log onto the internet to see how the case was progressing against her attackers," Brock said. "Suzy, I stepped up for you once. You're on your own this time. So I'd advise you all to get the plans in motion." As Brock stood to leave Leslie grabbed his arm. "I don't think I can have things done by Monday," she told him. "Will you at least consider delaying their arrests?" Brock was to the point. "No," he told her and he walked out the door. "I've told you up front what the time frame is. It won't be a surprise. I spent two years in a maximum security prison. Suzy will be fine if she has to spend a week or two in a foster home. "And just so we're clear. If the Simpsons catch word of what's happening and flee, the special prosecutor won't have to look past this room to find the source of the leak." Brock left the room to stunned silence and headed home to finally get some sleep. ------- Chapter 10 Brock didn't expect an invitation to spend time at the Miles' household and he wasn't surprised when none was forthcoming. Corbly County was a more urban area so school was in session on Monday. A party had been raided Saturday night so Brock's story was off the front burner of the high school gossip trail. Monday's events in Wilkins went off without a hitch. The grand jury indicted Suzy's parents in less than 10 minutes and by 11 am Ma and Pa Simpson were behind bars. Unfortunately Leslie hadn't been able to get the paperwork signed before Suzy's parents were arrested and, true to form, the husband and wife tried to use their daughter's welfare as a bargaining tool. Leslie pushed the special prosecutor to offer a deal and was highly perturbed when she was informed that Brock would have to approve of any special consideration offered. "It was the least I could do to assure him," the special prosecutor told Leslie over the phone. "I know you're aware of his situation and I don't think it was asking too much of me to allow him to participate in getting a small measure of revenge." Leslie was waiting for Brock when he returned from practice on Monday but he simply shook his head at her and headed inside. The Simpsons wanted to be let off with probation for signing the guardianship papers. It simply wasn't going to happen that way. The situation got dicier between Brock and Leslie on Tuesday when Lynn Collingwood filed a lawsuit against the Simpsons on Brock's behalf. By the time everything was finished he firmly believed he would own half the county and most of its money. But he had made sure that Lynn knew not to accept property in the county as part of any settlement. He would force the owners to sell it and take the proceeds. The last thing he wanted to do was to cut his own financial throat by accepting property that would be taxed beyond the sales value to pay what the county would owe him. Brock's saga was pushed further from the minds of his classmates when Wes Mansfield and two other soccer players were suspended from school on Tuesday. The trio had barely made it off school property when they were arrested on suspicion of sexual assault. A total of 16 girls had come forward alleging sexual misconduct on the boys' parts. Once again Leslie was waiting outside for Brock when he arrived home Tuesday. But this time she'd stationed herself in front of his door to bar his entry. "Social Services is coming for Suzy tomorrow," Leslie said. "I don't know how you can be so unreasonable. She was a pawn in this whole thing. Just like you were. Brock, she was the victim of an attempted rape. You can't know how traumatic that is. Is it any wonder that she closed herself off and focused solely on Suzy?" Brock closed his tired eyes and tried to calm his nerves. It didn't work. "Leslie, I'm going to say this once and only once," he said more evenly than he felt. "This has nothing to do with you. You might think it does, but you're wrong. You've butted into my business since the week I moved in here. You're not welcome in this portion of my life so it stops here and now. "Please think about this. I was the youngest male ever sentenced to maximum security prison. Do you understand that? I was 14 years old when I went to big-boy jail. Don't you dare tell me that I don't understand about attempted rape. I was attacked my first night in jail, only a few days after Suzy was attacked. I managed to fight them off and spent most of my time in solitary. My first night in real prison my cellmate tried to rape me. I anticipated it and hit him with a bar of soap I'd rolled up in a sock. It knocked three of his teeth out and broke his nose. "When he came back from the infirmary I choked him unconscious and tied him to the bars of the cell. I got stabbed in the shower for that one. Wanna see the scar? I can count at least a dozen serious attempted rapes I've fought off. So if you use that to excuse her actions, I guess I can use the same to justify mine. "You might think I'm unfeeling or uncaring. You might be right. The simple fact is that I don't care. I'm looking out for me. I'm the only one who will. That's a fact you can't dispute. If you want to save all the strays in the world, that's your business. I won't tell you how to live your life if you don't tell me how to live mine. I would be willing to help Suzy if I could reasonably do so. "If the Simpsons were willing to take five years each and pay restitution, I'd accept the deal in a heartbeat. I would consider three years and restitution. But I won't consider allowing them to walk away scott free because they hold their daughter hostage. If they're willing to see her in a foster home, so am I. "I've made my decision and I feel comfortable with it. I'm sorry if you're not. But I'm OK with that fact, too. You are welcome to come over here and talk to me about anything under sun except what is happening in Lewis County. If you persist in bothering me about things that I'm unwilling to change then you are just as welcome to stay home. Am I clear?" Leslie didn't speak but turned and stomped back to her house. ------- It was barely an hour later when a quartet of teenaged girls stood knocking on Brock's door. "I'm glad to see you, Mel," he said pointedly ignoring the rest. "How was your trip home?" Mel just stared at the floor. Her mother had made it a point to fill her in on what was happening — at least from Leslie's perspective. It was Suzy who spoke first. "I don't blame you, Jor ... Brock," she said. "I've been thinking about everything I could have done to make things right. If I would have done even one of them you never would have gone through what you did. But I did what I thought I needed to do at the time." "It doesn't make what he's doing right," Tara said. "No matter what you or I did, he has a chance to do the right thing and he's refusing." Brock looked at the girls. No one but Suzy would meet his gaze. "Do you realize that Suzy's parents want to get away with no punishment?" he asked. "And if I let this happen what stops them from rescinding the guardianship agreement the day they are released? Nothing. What happens if they just ship her to Social Services afterward? Nothing. If I let this go right now they will use the same tactic again anytime they want something. They will essential use Suzy to extort money from whomever she winds up living with — especially if she's happy there. If we do this Leslie's way we'll see more of Suzy's parents than we see of Suzy. Your Mom is a smart woman but she's ignorant of the way Social Services and the court system works. "Unfortunately, I have firsthand knowledge of both. By doing things this way your parents have no leverage. Social Services will house you until Leslie gets the OK to be your foster parent. Then the courts will move to strip parental rights from the Simpsons. That means they can't come back into your life next week or next month or next year without your permission. Use your heads, God damn it. "Suze, your parents are snakes. I'm sorry, but it's true. They saw a horrible situation and found a way to exploit you and me. Now they're in trouble themselves and they want to do it again. I'm sorry. I'm unwilling to play their silly games this time. This is not an attempt to punish you or Leslie." Mel thought for a couple of minutes. "Have you explained your rationale to Mom?" she asked Brock. "She's on the warpath right now. I've seen it before and it doesn't bode well for anyone when that happens." Brock shook his head. "Leslie is too interest in justifying Suzy's actions and inactions and in casting blame on me to listen to anything I have to say," he replied. "As with your sister, she has a tendency to believe her way of thinking is infallible. She thought she could take the same stance with me as she does with you two — namely yelling and bullying — to get me to change my mind. She's wrong about that, too. I've told her just as I've told each of you: I don't care if you're mad. You can get over it or be mad for a really long time. I'm OK with either. "But if she wants to get into a pissing contest with me, you let her know that I won't be the only one who gets wet." Jen's eyes were blazing with anger at his categorization of her attitude but she kept her mouth shut. The objective portion of her brain new he was right — about her and her Mom. "Would you mind if I explain it to her?" Mel said. "I think it could ease some of the tension around here." Brock held his hands apart and crooked his head to the side with a half-hearted smile on his face. "Mel, you can do whatever your little heart desires," he said without rancor. "I've tried to explain everything as best as I can. But please, if the four of you take nothing from here but this, please know that none of your actions or decisions will affect the way I handle things in this matter. I believe that I am resolved enough to withstand even tears if I have to. "Suzy, my attorney has some contacts in Social Services. She has done a background check on the family you will be staying with for a while. You'll be fine. If half of what she tells me is true, you might never want to leave. Lynn also has mentioned my interest in getting this resolved quickly to the family court judge. The judge has delayed your departure until after Thanksgiving. That way you can spend it here and I believe you'll be able to decide where you would like to live before the first of December. I wasn't willing to leave this to fate so I did what I could and I trust you to accept that I would have rather have done this anonymously. But I hope each of you understand that I couldn't allow her parents to dictate the terms." Mel started off to tell Leslie about what she had learned but ran into her Mom, literally, on the front porch. "I got a call from Suzy's caseworker, she can stay here for Thanksgiving," Leslie said excitedly. "I couldn't wait to tell her." Mel smiled. She hated to ruin her mother's good mood but she was going to anyway. Maybe she needed to learn she wasn't the sole authority on right and wrong. "We know," Mel said smugly. "Brock told us." Leslie stared at her daughter. "How in the world does Brock know," she said. "I just got off the phone not a minute ago. I need to set that boy straight." Melanie grabbed her mother's arm — not gently. "You need to think for a minute before you speak," Mel said tersely. "How would Brock know about this before you did? Do you think he would cast Suzy to the wolves in the foster care system knowing what you do about him? Could it be possible that maybe, just maybe, you're the one who is wrong here?" Leslie tried to wrench her arm away from her daughter but Mel held it even tighter. "If he only would have listened to me..." Leslie started but Mel squeezed her arm so much it started to hurt. "If he only would have listened to you," Mel hissed at her mother, "Suzy's parents would have had the upper hand in everything. If you would have shut your mouth and opened your ears for once you would have found that Brock's plan works better and is long term. I know you think you're never wrong but you are. So here is what we're going to do. We're going to walk calmly next door. You are going to keep your mouth shut until Brock or Suzy or I finish our explanation. Then you may ask questions if you see a flaw in the plan. "But the first time you start to berate him, I'm going to toss your ass out of his house. I'm sure I'll have a little bit of help, too, if I need it." Leslie recoiled as if stung. How dare her daughter talk to her that way? But the look on Mel's face kept her from voicing her displeasure. "Alright," Leslie said finally. "Let's here this glorious plan cooked up by a 16-year-old boy. You're sure it is far superior to mine. But don't be pissed when I start to poke his theory full of holes. I'm the one with a lifetime of experience to fall back on." "And he's the one who has spent almost 15 percent of his life dealing with courts and judges," Mel shot back. "And he also is the most feared person in Lewis County. When Brock wants something everyone in the courthouse jumps to it. You think he is still a boy? You're wrong again, Mom. He looks at things from a different perspective than most adults but he is an adult just the same. He's had to become one after all." Leslie sat dutifully in Brock's living room as Mel and Suzy described Brock's thought process. Her face dropped noticeably when Suzy told her that Brock was right about the way her parents would have reacted. "The day they were out of jail they would have been at your house," Suzy said. "They would have demanded money or something to allow you to keep the guardianship. I didn't even think about that." Leslie read the background check that Lynn Collingwood had provided. It was brief, given the amount of time she had to compile it, but thorough since her friend in Social Services had given her almost complete access to the family's files. "If you would have just told me this from the start... ," Leslie started haughtily but Jen interrupted her. "You wouldn't have listened," she finished. "I'm just like you. I get something in my head and I can't be swayed by logic or reason. You don't know these people. Brock tried to tell me what Wes was like but I refused to believe that people were like that. Just like you refuse to believe the Simpsons would put their interests ahead of Suzy's. I was wrong and you're wrong. Brock has a better idea of human nature than we ever will. And thank God for that because I wouldn't want to learn about how big of shits people can be the way he learned. "No, if you would have gotten your way it would have blown up in your face. Then you would have been mad at Brock for being right all along. He learned that about our family from me. So he kept his mouth shut and just did things the way he knew it had to be done. You were going to be mad either way and at least his way no one else had to get hurt." Leslie sat back in her chair and sighed heavily. She could find no fault with Brock's plan other than the fact that Suzy would have to live with foster parents for a little while. And Brock had allayed even those fears by doing research on the family she would be living with. "I admit that my idea had some flaws," she said finally. "I also admit that Brock's plan will probably have a better long-term outcome." He knew that was as close to an apology as he was likely to get, so Brock didn't say anything. Mel had other ideas. "I think you should apologize to Brock for doubting his judgment," Mel told her mother. "He's demonstrated time and again that he makes good decisions. He certainly has demonstrated that to Jen and to me. In fact, I probably trust his judgment more than yours on a lot of things. He doesn't seem to get bogged down in minutiae like you do. And in just a few weeks he has convinced me to do what you couldn't manage in almost two years. I'm transferring to Branson College at the semester. I'm heading over there this afternoon to register." Mel's words were like a slap in the face to Leslie. "You're willing to move back here to live because of him but not because of me and Jen," Leslie asked. Brock held up his arms. "Don't look at me," he said. "I've never asked her to come back nor have I hinted that she should. I made a generic case for going to college closer to home but, if she remembers, I also made a generic case for going to college as far away from home as possible." Mel looked at her mother. "He did offer arguments on both sides of the issue," she told her. "In fact, he offered compelling reasons for each. When I took a look at which reasons applied most closely to my situation it was an easy decision. But the main thing is that he let it be my decision. He listened to my points and didn't try to refute them. He accepted my ideas as valid and reasonable and didn't try to change my point of view. And he most certainly didn't present me with a fait accompli like you tried to do. He wasn't about to apply for me without my knowledge and I doubt he'll want to choose my classes for me this afternoon when we go over." Brock saw the situation slipping away. "Uh, Mrs. Miles," he said quickly. Somehow he thought he might no longer be on a first-name basis with the woman, "this was not something I tried to do. She asked my opinion on some things and I gave it. That's all. But I certainly didn't..." Leslie cut him off with a wave. "It really doesn't matter," she told him. "I guess I've got to accept that my kids are growing up and can make decisions on their own. You told me once that Jenny hadn't learned the consequences of making bad decisions and that it was my problem to deal with. You were right. She didn't learn that because I would step in and stop any bad choice she might make. I did the same thing for Melanie, too. Or at least I did until she got away from me and went to Langley. "Over the years I've gotten used to making decisions for everyone and expecting them to follow them. I tried to do that with you, too, on more than one occasion. I don't know what made me angrier. The fact that you wouldn't listen to me or the fact that your way worked out just fine. I only hope your way works out fine for Suzy, too." ------- Chapter 11 Thanksgiving was a boisterous affair at the Miles household. Tara's mother joined the group, so Brock had decided to have Thanksgiving by himself. No amount of persuasion from anyone could change his mind. "It would be awkward," he told Leslie. "I know why you wanted to invite her and I respect your decision to have whoever you wish there. I hope you'll respect my decision that I don't want to spend a holiday with Erin Wyatt. I wasn't thrilled with the prospect of spending it with Tara but she and I seem to have worked out a truce — or, more nearly, I've worked out a way not to voice my displeasure at her very existence. I'm not positive I could do that with Mrs. Wyatt and I'm certain that if I managed it would take longer than a few hours." Leslie was mortified when Mel announced on Thursday morning that she planned to have Thanksgiving with Brock instead of with her family. "I don't understand your thinking, Mother," Mel said. "You need to spend some time in Wilkins to get a true picture of what happened. Tara, I don't mean to sound harsh but I will. You and your mother are two of the worst culprits. You didn't do anything overtly but he counted on you to stand up for him. When you refused it left him totally alone. "Your invitation to Mrs. Wyatt has done the same thing to him. I'm going to make sure he knows that someone is on his side and has his feelings and best interests at heart." Mel showed up at Brock's house shortly after 10 am He had planned on a quiet microwave Thanksgiving which he offered to share but Mel wouldn't hear of it. "I've found five restaurants serving dinner," she said with a smile. "I'll pick where we eat; you pay the bill." Brock and Mel spent a nice afternoon of dining without the clean up and then returned to his house to watch football on TV. Brock was surprised but not unhappy when Mel snuggled up to him on the couch to watch the Cowboys and Titans battle. "I want you to consider something," she said. "Please don't answer now. Just think about it. I think I know what your first reaction will be so I would rather you ponder things for a little while." Brock suddenly was on edge, something that didn't go unnoticed by Melanie who had her head on his shoulder. "It's nothing bad," she said with a laugh. "At least I don't think so. I want you to think about how much you would charge me to rent a room from you here next semester. Don't say anything right now. Just think about that question and that question alone. Don't worry about any other questions that I know you have. Deal?" Brock chuckled to himself. That was easier said than done. "I plan to be at the courthouse in Wilkins next week," she continued. "If you could have an answer to that and that alone, I would appreciate it." "You don't have to come to the courthouse," he said. "In fact, it might be better for you if you didn't. I'm not going to be a very popular person — if I can get more unpopular — in Wilkins. I don't want the fallout to reach you." "Are you kidding me?" Mel asked. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. When the news hits about Eric Veneble's parentage I want to see the looks on their faces. Besides, I need to know if I'm living next door to a multimillionaire or just a plain old millionaire." ------- Corbly's magical football season ended the following day against Cedar Grove. It was a close game but Cedar Grove was simply a much better team than the Conquistadors. Basketball season had already begun and Brock had fielded questions from the coach about playing. He'd played on the freshman team at Lafayette but it wasn't something he particularly enjoyed so he passed. Besides, he figured he would have enough going on in the next few months. The hearing in Wilkins was everything he had anticipated. He wasn't surprised to see Melanie sitting in the gallery but he was a little shocked to see Leslie, Mrs. Wyatt and two people he didn't recognize sitting around her. This was the first in several trips to the Lewis County Courthouse Brock would be making over the next couple of months. Lynn had steadfastly refused to settle any lawsuit without an admission of culpability and none of the defendants seemed interested in stepping up to take responsibility for what happened more than two years before. The city and county had agreed to a settlement but only if it could wait until after the general election in November because each elected official knew the populace would voice its displeasure at the ballot box. When the visiting judge gaveled the hearing to order the courtroom was filled only with the few who knew the details. Lynn had made sure there would be a couple of news crews there, too, but the judge had made the cameras wait outside. "Miller (ne DeVoe) vs. Lewis County, et al, is called. I understand we have a settlement agreement in place. I'm interested in the details of this settlement," the judge intoned. He clearly was enjoying this. "Yes, your honor," Lynn Collingwood stated as she rose from her seat. "The City of Wilkins and Lewis County officials have offered a settlement in the wrongful prosecution and detainment of Jordan DeVoe, now known as Brock Miller. The defendants wish the financial terms to be confidential but my client vehemently objects. However, the settlement will go forth regardless of your decision. But in the interest of the public welfare, we ask you to rule against the defendant's motion and allow the entire document to be public record. We have three amicus curiae briefs from the National Association of Newspaper Editors, the Organization for Public Information and the Sunshine Law Foundation. "Your honor, please note from the minutes I've provided that no mention has been made of this issue in public session by either the Wilkins City Council or the Lewis County Commission. You will also note that the Sunshine Law Foundation has filed a Freedom of Information Act request to this court. It will be the first of many you receive if you allow the defendants' motion to carry." The judge nodded toward the defendants' table. "Your honor, we think our motion speaks for itself," the acting law administrator said. "I agree," the judge told the room. "It certainly does speak for itself and I don't like what it is saying. I can see many compelling reasons to open this settlement up to public scrutiny and only one reason to keep it confidential. You want to cover the backsides of the elected officials who committed this travesty. Defendants' motion is denied. The record will be open. Let's get on with this. I believe one requirement of the settlement is a statement in open court from the defendants." The county law administrator stood again and began to speak but the judge interrupted him. "Counselor, the settlement states clearly that the admission comes from the defendants, not their attorney," he said. "Your job is appointed. It is not elected. Your clients are the ones who will need to perform the recitation of fact." The man and woman at the table blanched. Brock recognized them as the Mayor of Wilkins and the President of the Lewis County Commission. "Your honor, my clients are unprepared to speak," the lawyer said. "We assert that as their paid employee I am authorized to speak on their behalf." The judge stared at the defendants. "Your assertion is incorrect, counselor," he boomed. "The defendant representing the City of Wilkins will rise." The portly mayor got to his feet. "You don't need prepared remarks," he was told. "You know the story by heart. Now speak." The mayor stammered for a minute then began. "Certain elected officials from the City of Wilkins may have participated in the concealment of evidence that led to the unfortunate arrest and conviction of the plaintiff," he said. "Although the city itself was not part of the action, the people who committed the alleged acts were employees of the city." Lynn was on her feet before Brock could even nudge her. "Unacceptable, your honor," she yelled. "The settlement calls for an acceptance of culpability on the defendants' behalf. Shuttling the blame on unnamed people is neither in the letter nor the spirit of the settlement. We'll be heading to trial, I guess. I'm sorry to have wasted your honor's time." The mayor turned even paler at the word "trial" but the judge almost cracked a smile. He managed to keep his mouth from turning up by barking at the defendants. "Counselor, you and your clients are trying my patience," he bellowed. "Here is what is going to happen. Your clients have agreed in principle to the settlement. They were aware of its stipulations as were you. Now if they don't live up to their end of the bargain real soon now, the three of you will be spending the next 30 days in lock up for contempt of court then we will all meet in January and pick an out of town jury for the trial. We'll run it together with the civil cases against Tom Anderson, Larry Lewis and John Wainscott. Oh, and I understand a suit against Bertrand and Irma Simpson has been added. Ms. Collingwood, do you plan to add their wayward daughter to the suit?" "No, your honor," Lynn answered. "In fact, this afternoon my client will be testifying on Susan Simpson's behalf in family court. She is seeking to sever her relationship with her parents and have guardianship given to another family." "Interesting," the judge said with glee. "I hope things work out as they should. Anyway, back to the matter at hand. If you folks don't want to go to jury trial with Mr. Anderson, Mr. Lewis, Mr. Wainscott and the Simpsons, you need to get cracking. I'd be more than happy to keep you in jail until that trial comes up." Brock heard a gasp from the commission president and she was instantly on her feet. "Lewis County officials took it upon themselves to conceal evidence in a homicide investigation," she said while looking squarely at the judge. "The same officials accepted cash payments and other considerations to railroad an innocent person. Jordan DeVoe committed no crime. He acted without malice and the elected officials put their personal interests ahead of the interests of the electorate. "The Lewis County Commission accepts full responsibility for the actions done by its employees and will pay the remuneration as set forth in the settlement agreement." The woman turned to look at Brock. "Young man, I can begin to tell you how sorry I am," she said with tears in her eyes. "I wasn't on the commission then but I voted for every man and woman involved in this case. I apologize in my professional capacity and as a person." Brock smiled at the woman and nodded. "That's more like it," the judge said. "I hereby order Lewis County to pay Brock Miller $1,000 per day of incarceration for restitution for at total of $518,000. I further order punitive damages in the amount of $10 million. Mr. Mayor, I think you're up." The woman cringed at the punitive damages. She had hardly expected such a large amount but the settlement allowed the judge to set the amount. "Mr. Miller and Your Honor," the mayor began. "As with Ms. Land, I was not in office during the time of this incident. But I am just as appalled." Brock rolled his eyes and the judge banged his gavel. "You go to jail in one minute," he told the man. "Now get on with it." "Two members of the Wilkins Police Department destroyed evidence in Mr. Miller's case," the mayor said hurriedly. "In addition the prosecuting attorney for the city hid relevant information and suborned perjury from witnesses. Their actions led directly to Mr. Miller's wrongful conviction. The City takes full responsibility for the actions of its employees and we apologize." The gavel fell once again. "Your honor," Lynn cut in. "Before rendering your judgment, the plaintiff asks that the mayor be compelled to reveal what information was hidden by the prosecuting attorney during the discovery process." The mayor looked at the table then steeled his resolve. "The prosecuting attorney concealed the fact that one of the boys involved in the incident was his birth son," the mayor said quietly. "Eric Venable was the son of John Wainscott." The only people who didn't gasp at the revelation were the people sitting around the Miles family. "Thank you, your honor," Lynn said with a smile. "The plaintiff finds this satisfactory." The judge nodded. "The City of Wilkins is ordered to pay Brock Miller $500 per day of his wrongful incarceration for a total of $259,000," he said. "I order punitive damages in the amount of $5 million. Documents to be forwarded to the Clerk of Courts by noon Tuesday. Damages to be paid in 30 days; punitive award to be paid within six months. Court is adjourned." ------- Brock was astounded but Lynn was unmoved by the punitive damages. She had pictured him getting even more but she figured the big pay day would come when Tom Anderson's lawsuit came up in January. She had filed the suit for $20 million and she was sure the jury would award at least that amount. But Lynn guessed the punitive damages would run in the hundreds of millions, especially if she could get any young parents on the jury. They would knock the crap out Tom Anderson for his deceit. She doubted that Sheriff Larry Lewis could afford to pay for a new pair of shoes after his attorney fees were done and the Simpsons were in the same boat. John Wainscott would be another gold mine, albeit smaller than Tom Anderson. He had tried to hide most of his money and Lynn had a hell of time finding most of it. But find it she did and the special prosecutor froze all of Wainscott's assets just minutes before the former prosecuting attorney had tried to transfer it to an offshore account. Lynn figured she would make enough off this case to retire comfortably, not that she planned to. But she sure as hell was getting out of Lewis County before the ink was dry on the order. Maybe she would move to Corbly. Brock seemed happy there. But judging from the bevy of girls and woman that greeted him she figured he would be happy just about anywhere he could find those. Lynn was on top of her game when she left the courthouse with Brock. The TV crews had already swarmed on the defendants and were waiting for the victorious plaintiff. "Please don't get angry," she urged Brock. "Answer their questions but don't lose your temper." Brock smiled and assured her he would do his best to remain calm and let her do most of the talking. Of course that lasted about 30 seconds. "Almost $16 million for a year and half in prison," one blonde newswoman asked him with a smirk. "Don't you find that a little excessive?" Brock locked his steely gaze right on the woman and she flinched noticeably. "Tell you what," he said with a sneer. "Why don't we lock you away in a maximum security hellhole for 18 months? We'll let people attack you sexually and physically. We'll let the guards treat you like you're less than a human. During the time you're in prison we'll go around and harass and ridicule any living relative you have and then after a year or so we'll kill them all. That way you'll have no one on the outside that gives a crap about you — if you have anyone who gives a crap about you now. Then you tell me if you can put a monetary amount on what you've lost. I would give back all the money if I could the 10 months with my mother that those bastards stole from me. "What a ridiculously insipid question." The woman look as if she was about to cry but her cameraman sported a huge smile and gave Brock a big thumbs up. "The taxpayers of Lewis County are going to have to foot the bill for this," another reporter said. "Does that sound fair to you? They might have to increase property taxes by as much as 20 percent." Brock stopped for just a minute to consider his answer then plowed right ahead. "The way I figure the taxpayers are the ones who elected the men and women who did this," Brock stated. "In fact, they elected the sheriff to another term after the news was out. If it weren't for the indictments against him, he'd still be in office. I don't think there is anything unfair about it. The citizens of Lewis County pretty much got what they deserve. If they don't like, they can sell their property and get the hell out. It's what I did." Lynn's incessant tugging at Brock's arm signaled the news conference was over. "Well, so much for letting me keep my office in Wilkins for a few more months," Lynn said with a laugh and a shake of her head. "What part of 'don't lose your temper' did you not get?" Brock looked at the floor of the car for a few seconds. "Sorry, Lynn," he said. "I didn't actually lose my temper, though. You only saw me mildly perturbed." Lynn burst out laughing and almost drove the pair into a tree. ------- Chapter 12 Leslie and Melanie Miles were waiting at Lynn's office along with the pair from court that Brock didn't recognize. They were introduced as Steve and Lisa Walsh, Suzy's foster parents. "Is this a bad time to ask for a loan," Mel joked when Brock got out of the car. "Or maybe you could just buy me a car." Brock smiled and gave her a quick hug. "After Lynn takes her fees, I'll be lucky to have enough money to buy you a Matchbox car," he joked right back. But he put his arm around Lynn to let her know he was kidding. Lynn was smiling to end all smiles — right up to the time the Channel 4 news van pulled into her parking lot. "Inside," she urged. "Brock has said enough for one day." "Ah, Lynn," he complained. "I was just getting warmed up. I have a whole list of insults to hurl yet." The group migrated to Lynn's inner sanctum and began discussing Suzy's case. She was conspicuous by her absence. "Don't you think Suzy should be here while we discuss her future?" Brock asked no one in particular. "I mean, it seems to me she has a vested interest in things." The Walshes looked out the window. "I think Susan will be happy so long as she is away from her parents and away from this town," Lisa said. "Her Aunt Brenda tried to visit her a few days ago at the school but the principal wouldn't let her in. I think she plans to be there today to file for custody of her niece. "Susan was adamant about not going to Las Vegas. She has a lot of faith in you, Brock. She said you would have a plan. I hope you do because the family court judge is notorious for giving children to blood relatives." Brock looked at Lynn and shrugged. "It would have been nice to know this a little earlier," he said. "Off the top of my head I can think of two ways to go about this. First is to allege her aunt's complicity in the plot. After all, she signed as a witness to Suzy's statement. But that implicates Suzy as well. "The second is to get a material witness warrant from the judge we just left. It will keep Suzy from leaving the state. Do we know for sure that Brenda Simpson is still a resident of Nevada? If she is, that will go a long way toward keeping her here. The judge can even award temporary custody to either the Walshs or Leslie until after the trial. I have no doubt in my mind that if Brenda Simpson gets custody of Suzy, we'll never see her again. Well, at least not until she turns 18 and can leave." Brock turned to ask Lynn's opinion but she was already on her cell phone. "Marcia, it's Lynn Collingwood," she said into the receiver. "I need a material witness warrant drawn up quickly for Susan Simpson. We have every indication that her aunt plans to spirit her outside our jurisdiction and we'll need her for the civil case and you'll need her for the criminal trial. Her custody case starts in three hours. Will that be enough time? Judge Kerwin will sign it, I'm sure. I'll call his clerk right after I'm off with you." Two minutes later Lynn was off the phone and back in the conversation. "You need to get Suzy from school immediately," she told the Walshes. "Take Brock with you if you need to. From what I know of the Simpson family I wouldn't put much past them." Lisa Walsh smiled brilliantly. "It seems Susan's trust wasn't misplaced," she said. "I had my doubts but I was wrong." Melanie beamed. "It never pays to underestimate Brock Miller," she said with glee. "Ask my mom or sister if you don't believe me." ------- Getting Suzy from school wasn't as difficult as anyone thought it might be. Brock had no interest in visiting Lafayette High School again but he went along in case Steve ran into any problems. He waited in the parking lot while Steve retrieved Suzy. Suzy was practically overjoyed at seeing Brock and gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek when he got out and allowed her to sit in front. On the way to the courthouse, Steve filled her in on the details of what was happening. "I'm not sure I can testify against my parents," she said sadly. "I mean they're shits but they're still my mom and dad. Do you think it will come to that, Jordan?" Brock sighed. "First, you've got to quit calling me that," he said tersely. "Second, it might. If it does, you'll have to answer the questions that are posed to you. The criminal prosecution is out of my hands. I'm not a plaintiff in the case so I have no grounds to ask questions or seek favors. But for now it was just a convenient way to keep you from having to go with your aunt. "It's my understanding that Judge Kerwin is going to forbid you from leaving the state. That will keep your aunt from getting custody. We're also going to allege that your aunt was part of the coverup. Right now we have no solid evidence that doesn't implicate you, too. So alleging is all we do. But you can't run from things this time, Suzy. If push comes to shove you're going to have to stand up this time. Don't kid yourself that everything is going to go away." Brock knew it wasn't what Suzy wanted to hear but it was exactly what she needed to hear. If she was prepared for the worse she could accept anything better. "I'm going to suggest that you finish out the school term with us," Steve said and continued to speak over Suzy's protests. "I've been through this a lot more times than I care to count. It will make the transition to a new school easier if you do it at the semester. If you transfer now you'll have only a week or two of the grading period left before marks are due. It could hurt your semester grades if you mess up a quiz or something and the teacher has only four or five grades to average." Suzy looked to Brock for support but she found none. "I'm outside of my element," he said. "Mr. Walsh is right. He knows a lot more about this sort of thing than anyone. Certainly more than I do. I would follow his recommendations if I were you." In the end, most of the preparations were for naught. Judge Kerwin cut out the middle man and assumed control of the case. He wouldn't even listen to Brenda Simpson's attorney when he made the case for custody and granted temporary guardianship to Steve and Lisa Walsh through January 15th. Permanent guardianship would be determined at a hearing on that date. He refused to sever the Simpson's parental ties until after the January hearing and then would hold his ruling in abeyance until after their criminal trial which was still months away. "I thought you said she'd be back in Corbly by December 1st," Leslie spat at Brock when they left the courtroom. He simply shrugged. "I was wrong," he stated. "But I think you'll agree that the situation she is in now is better than one that would allow her parents to pull the strings. If we had gone your route Brenda Simpson would already have guardianship and Suzy would be in Las Vegas or God knows where. "Really, Leslie, don't be pissy because you didn't get exactly what you wanted. It's still better than the alternative you proposed. Suzy will be fine. She said she enjoys living with the Walshes and they seem to take pretty good care of her. So get off your high horse." Brock left a silently fuming Leslie Miles in his wake as he hurried to catch up to Melanie. "Do you need me to come help move your stuff back home next week?" he asked. "If you do, let me know and I'll take a day off school and drive down ... so long as I don't have to spend five hours in the car with your mother." Mel laughed then turned serious. "What did you decide about the price of a room?" she asked. "I don't think it's a good idea... ," Brock started but she silenced him by pressing her lips to his. "I told you not to think about anything other than the price," she told him with a smile. "You listen about as well as my mother." Brock sighed and shook his head. "A room with use of the common areas such as the kitchen, living room and laundry facilities would cost $400 per month," he said. "If someone wanted one of the two rooms with a private bath attached it would be a little more expensive, probably $450 per month. The person would be expected to provide their own food and amenities." "Jesus, you're a fucking slumlord," Mel said with a giggle. "Five bills for a freakin' bedroom and the luxury of sharing a space with you. Fat chance. How about $300 a month with food included? That's far more reasonable." It was Brock's turn to laugh. "Three-fifty and we split the food," he said. "You pay any increase in utilities. I'll take the whole food bill if you promise to do the cooking at least five days a week." "Who said I was talking about me?" she asked innocently. "I was just wondering what the going rate for a room was. Jeez, do you think I'd just come home and move in with you? What would my mother think?" Brock just groaned but Mel punched him lightly on the arm. "Gotcha," she said playfully. "I know you think it's a bad idea and I'm sure you're right. I just want to have another option if things are unwieldy at home. I might spend some additional time over there during the break to see how things work out — and to see how big a shit-fit Mom will throw. "But I'll bet Jen will be even worse about it. And when Suzy gets up there, look out. I might just have to mark my territory before the other predators get near." Brock didn't know how to answer so he didn't answer at all. "Relax," Mel said. "I'm just playing. Sort of. I'll tell Mom you're coming down to help me move home. We'll talk on the way. In the meantime, don't let my sister get her claws back into you." ------- Brock wasn't at his house for longer than 15 minutes before the phone started to ring. The media vultures and long-lost relatives he'd never had came out of the woodwork. He began to rethink his decision to have the proceeding in public. He finally unplugged the phone and went to bed. School was a zoo. He hadn't made it completely out of his car before a horde of people descended on him asking about the money he had received. "Folks," he said loudly. "It's all money in theory. I haven't seen a penny of it and I doubt I will any time soon. The first money I get has to go to play literally hundreds of thousands of dollars in legal fees. The rest of the money will take probably a decade to even get to me. So there is no money to spend and no money to share. Sorry." It was the absolute truth. He did owe more than $100,000 in legal fees and he had set up long ago with Lynn to have the money put in a blind trust until he graduated college or tuned 25. He still had the lump sum from his mom's life insurance and from the land he sold but no one needed to know about that. The majority of kids wandered off after they found he really didn't have $15 million in his bank account but a few stayed around. A sophomore debutante walked beside him into the building. When everyone cleared away she finally spoke. "I want to say up front that I don't want anything from you," she said quickly. "My family won the lottery about three years ago and I know how that goes. People come out of the woodwork looking for something. I met more cousins than I ever knew I had the first year. I'm not comparing my situation to yours in any way. So please don't get angry with me. I just wanted to let you know that if things start to overwhelm you to give me a call. I might have some tidbit of information to help you out." Brock looked at the girl for a few seconds. He wasn't certain that anyone had offered to just help him out with no strings attached. "Thanks, Meredith," he said earnestly. "I can't tell you how much that means. I finally unplugged the phone last night. If I can get the damned thing to stop ringing long enough I plan to call the phone company and get the number changed." He grimaced and shook his head. "You know my given name isn't Miller, right?" he asked and Meredith nodded. "Well every freak and loon named Miller was on the phone last night claiming to be related. I'm not related to a single soul named Miller. At least I don't think I am." Meredith laughed. "At least my last name is VanLandingham," she chuckled. "Not too many of those lurking about. But the ones that are, well, let me tell you. Here comes your girlfriend. I better scoot. I just wanted to stop by and let you know you aren't alone." Brock looked around and saw Jen coming. "Hey, Meredith," he said quickly. "Jen's not my girlfriend, just so you know. So you don't have to 'scoot' unless you want to. Besides even if she were my girlfriend it's not like we're humping in the hallway." Meredith gave Brock a slight hip check and giggled. "If you play your cards right... ," she laughed and then she walked away into the throng of people headed to class. Brock watched Meredith slip away as Jenny approached. "Why were you talking to Merie the Cherry?" Jen asked with a laugh. "Merie the Cherry?" Brock asked. "What's that about?" "She is notorious here," Jen said with a wondering look on her face. "I can't believe you've never heard about her. She guards her virginity like Fort Knox. She barely talks to guys let alone date one. For a while her nickname was Merie the Fairy but she won't talk to girls either. You should count yourself lucky she deigned to speak to you." Brock smiled. "Hmm," he said with a grin. "I got the distinct impression that she wasn't guarding her anything around me. Oh, well. Maybe I'm wrong." Jenny let out a snort. "She probably can sense that you're as bad as she is," she said. "It's probably some radar. You know, like gays can spot gays. She can probably tell who is disinterested in sex from 100 yards away." Brock shook his head. "If you hadn't dumped me for greener pastures, you would have found out how wrong you are," he said as he turned to walk away. "Perhaps that very night." Brock's parting words had their desired effect. Jen was left standing in the hallway with her mouth hanging open and her mind racing. ------- Chapter 13 At lunch, Meredith calmly claimed a seat across from Brock — much to Jen's consternation. "Hi, Meredith," Brock said as Jen watched carefully. "Welcome to the Loser Table." Meredith laughed. She had a rich, full laugh, not a little girl giggle like Brock had suspected. "Loser my ass," she said. "The line for a visit with the King is usually a mile long. And everyone here calls me Merie." Brock nodded. "The Cherry," Merie added with a grin. "As I'm sure you know." Brock burst out in a fit of laughter. "Actually, I learned that fact only today," he said. "I guess I must be known as Brock the Bashful or maybe Miller the Misanthrope." Jenny watched the interplay like a ping-pong match, her head turning from one rejoinder to the other. "And she will soon be known as Jenny the Drooler if she doesn't learn to close her mouth," Brock added with a nod toward Jen. "Sure, it isn't as poetic as Merie the Cherry or as alliterate as Miller the Misanthrope but it certainly paints a picture." Jenny tried to scowl but she found it humorous, too. "Knock it off," she said. "It's not funny." "To you," Brock and Merie chimed in unison. "Brock, I was wondering, with football season over and all, if you might be free Saturday?" Merie asked and Jen's jaw dropped again. Brock looked at Merie questioningly. "I'm not sure," he said. "It's complicated. I might have a girlfriend, but I'm not really sure. I know this sounds stupid but can I check and get back with you tomorrow?" It was Merie's turn to look unsure. "Would you mind explaining your comment before I give my answer?" she finally said. "It's rather cryptic. Most people would recognize if they had a girlfriend or not." Brock nodded and glanced at Jen. "What do you think, Jen?" he asked. "Is Mel my girlfriend or is not. I'm truly not sure and it hasn't been an issue until now." Jen still sat in stunned silence. "What? Is Mel your fuck-buddy?" Merie asked with a sly smile. "Because fuck-buddies don't count as girlfriends." "Uh, no," Brock answered slowly. "Mel is, um, well, she's Jen's sister. That I know for sure. And she's kissed me a couple of times and, well, that's where it gets complicated. I'm not sure if she likes me or if she just hangs out with me just to piss off Jen and her Mom." Jenny shook her head to clear the cobwebs. "No," she said finally. Brock and Merie both looked at her. "No, what?" Brock finally asked when he ascertained that nothing further was coming. "No, I don't think she considers herself your girlfriend," Jen said. "She asks about you every time she calls home but ... Has she kissed you more often than what I've seen? You know, just on your porch?" "Well, no," Brock confessed. "Sort of. Let's just say she's only kissed me when either you or your mom were watching. See, Merie, complicated." "How do you consider her?" Merie asked. "That is the more important question. Do you consider her your girlfriend? And when did Jen stop being your girlfriend? I missed a few weeks of school and when I left you were still dating." "I don't really consider Mel my girlfriend," Brock admitted. "But at the same time I consider her my friend and I wouldn't want to hurt her feelings if she considered me her boyfriend. The Miles family is weird. For all I know, in their pagan/naturalist rituals, I might be married to both Jen and Mel because I've kissed them both." Jenny slapped Brock's arm lightly. "We are not pagans or naturalists — whatever that is," Jen said. "And a kiss does not a boyfriend make." Merie was enjoying this conversation more than she had another in ages. "So, you don't worship trees and you don't walk around nude," she kidded Jenny. "Are there any other quirks that might lead Brock to already be betrothed?" Jenny was getting flustered but Brock kept up the joking. "Oh, she walks around nude plenty," he said. "I can see into her house from my bedroom. You should see some of the shows I've gotten." Jenny's eyes went wide before she realized Brock was playing. "Fuck you, Miller," she hissed. "It's a sad testament to your life that your only entertainment is spying on teenaged girls in their bedrooms." Brock winked at Merie. "Teenaged girls hell," he said. "I've been watching your Mom. She has this two-foot long rubber thing that I think she's gonna have to marry." Jenny suddenly realized that she had rarely heard Brock joke — and he certainly had never made an off-color remark about anything remotely sexual. "Yeah," Jen said. "I've already starting to call it 'Papa.'" The three teens were sorely disappointed when the bell rang for fifth period. Merie casually slipped in beside Brock and Jen on the way to her next class. "Check with your maybe-girlfriend," she said as they parted. "Let me know if she says it's OK. Maybe she's heard the other rumor about me and will want to tag along." ------- Brock chanced plugging his phone back in later than evening and managed to catch Melanie in her dorm room. "Hey, stud," Mel said cheerfully. "I hear you're getting a regular harem together." He knew immediately that Jen had filled her sister in on the day's events. "I don't know that I'd call it a harem," he said ruefully. "How about I'm gathering a group of pains in my ass." "Same thing," Mel answered. "Listen, as you can guess Jen called me before she even took her coat off. I tried to call you a couple of times but your damned phone is either busy or ringing off the hook." Brock told Melanie about his night before. "Oh, yeah," she said. "I should have guessed. Anyway, she told me about Meredith VanLandingham. Isn't that a hoity-toity name." "I'm Meredith VanLandingham of the Essex VanLandinghams," she said in a terrible British accent. "We make money the old fashioned way — we wait for our parents to die and inherit it." Brock chuckled. "Actually, she said her family hit the lottery a few years back," he told Melanie. "So I think her money might be just as new as mine. But I guess Jen told you my dilemma." Melanie got serious. "She did," she told Brock. "I've thought about that for a couple of days now. I think you're wonderful and I am attracted to you. But I think our dating days are a couple of years away — if they come at all. But I'm extremely flattered that you considered my feelings in the matter. Of course you had to with my little sister the snitch sitting next to you. She probably would skip her afternoon classes to call me if she thought it would piss me off." "She might at that," Brock agreed. "I'm not sure of her sometimes. I mean, we're neighbors so I want to be friends with her. But I don't want to be her boyfriend. I'm sure you understand why." "That's what the harem comment was about," Mel said with glee. "You've got two girls chasing you in Corbly and three in Wilkins. Put us all together and you've got the makings of quite a group." Brock groaned. "Who are the other two in Wilkins?" he asked but he was pretty sure he knew the answer. Melanie confirmed it. "Tara and Suzy, of course," she said. "Suzy calls me about every evening. She can't wait to get up there and live beside you. Tara is jealous as hell and is trying to convince her mom to move to Corbly, you know, with property taxes going through roof down here for some odd reason. I have heard through the grapevine that Tara and her mother are going to scout houses in our neighborhood over Christmas break. Won't that be exciting? "By the way, thanks for not mentioning my proposed living arrangement in front of The Snitch. Mom is going to shit when I talk to her about it anyway. But if she heard if from Jenny first, well, I think it would be ten times worse. We'll cross that bridge when I get home. You're still coming to get me next Friday, right?" "I'll be there," he told her. "I checked on a U-Haul on the way home from school. It gave Jenny the time she needed to make her call." "If things go well this weekend, bring Meredith with you," she said and Brock hoped she was joking. "I've got some interesting gossip to share with that girl. Suzy has been telling me a lot of stories about some kid named Jordan that used to run around in the woods without his pants." "Jesus, Mel," Brock stammered. "I was like 3 years old. I've got some stories to tell you about Suzy, too." "Don't forget your Tara stories," Mel added. "She's got some good ones, too. She says your kisses are 'dreamy.' Her words, not mine. I found them to be below average, actually." "Well, if you'd ever kiss me when I was expecting it — or when there wasn't an audience — maybe I could move up to 'dreamy' in your eyes, too," he joked. "But, that's a couple of years down the road — if ever." "Hey, no fair," Mel cried. "You tell me you've got better kisses stored up after I tell you I'm not your girlfriend. I might have to reconsider. If it's any consolation to me, Jen didn't find your kisses 'dreamy' either. Of course she was so intent on trying to will your hands into her panties that she probably didn't concentrate on the kiss. And don't forget, I still owe you for the 'A' I'm sure to get in Ethics class. I always pay my debts. So maybe you can practice for when I get my grades in the mail." Brock hung up the phone shaking his head. He turned to find Jen standing in his doorway. "How'd that go?" she asked with a smirk. "It went well," Brock said. "No thanks to you. Jenny the Squealer, that's your new nickname." "How would you know if I'm a squealer or not?" she asked coyly. "If you ask nice, I might let you find out. Actually, that's one of the reasons I'm here. Well, not specifically but generically." Brock shrugged. "I've been thinking all day about what you told me this morning," she said. "You know, after I saw you with Merie." "What would you like to know?" he asked. "Well, did you mean it?" she answered. "Yes," he said. "With a caveat. I was planning to tell you the whole story that evening. I needed to be upfront with you before we added a physical side to our relationship. I wanted to do more than kissing but I couldn't allow myself to go that far until I could summon enough courage to tell you the truth. I owed it to you before you could make an informed decision about anything that came after kissing. "But, knowing what I know now, I'm glad we didn't go farther." Jenny looked as if she was about to cry. "Brock, I love you," she said. "I still love you. I want to be your girlfriend again. I don't care if we never go to parties or if you want to stay at home all the time. But I want the feeling I got whenever you'd look at me. The feeling I got when you'd hold my hand. "I was stupid. I was immature. I got caught up in pretend things and forgot about the real ones. But I've learned from it. I really have. I'll never treat you that way again. I'll never treat anyone that way again. When I saw you kissing Melanie I was furious. Even Merie today pissed me off and all you were doing is talking. Please tell me that we can try again. Melanie told me she doesn't want to be your girlfriend. I do. I really do. "Anything. I'll do anything you want, any time you want. I'll..." "Stop, Jen," Brock said. "I wish we could go back. There are things I would do differently, too. I would have told you all about me. But I can't. And neither can you. For now, it's all I can do to just be your friend sometimes. "Look at what you did today. You rushed home and called Melanie to tell her about Merie. And don't tell me it's because Mel is your sister. You would have done the same thing if she were someone else. "We were pretty good friends when I first moved here. It became more than that and I started to trust you. But just like anyone else I've ever gotten close to, you left me. You want those feelings back. Well, so do I. But I know that it'll take a lot more than just wanting them to return to make it so. I've got to grow up a lot more before I can forgive what happened. You said some pretty hurtful things to me when I was at one of my lowest points since I moved here. "The break up I can forgive. In fact, I think I already have. But I thought, of all people, you would be on my side no matter what. I thought the same thing about Tara — and even about Suzy. Just like them, when I truly needed someone to count on, you weren't there. It's been more than two years and I still haven't found a way to forgive them. I'm trying to. Just like I'm trying to forgive you. I just can't. "I can still be their friend but not as close a friend as I once was. The same is true with you. If we would get back together it wouldn't be the same. I could never let my guard down. I would always worry that I would do or say something and you would disappear again. I don't mean to sound hateful." "I realize that teenage girls, by their very nature are more in tune with themselves than with others," Brock added with a grin. "I don't fault you for breaking up with me. I don't fault you for your reaction to my news. I don't fault you, but I can't seem to get past it either. "I hope you understand." Jen was in full tears by this point but she nodded. "Friends then," she said with a grim smile. "We'll be friends but I'm never going to give up trying to convince you that I'll always be here for you. I promise you that. "And if things don't work out with Merie, I'll be here for you. Whatever sort of relationship you want, I'll be here." Brock put his arms around Jen. "Right now," he said. "Friends. Let's work on being friends." Jen surprised Brock by kissing him when he let her go. "Just what was your next move if I hadn't broken up?" she asked slyly. "I mean, I got your hands up my shirt once. Did you plan past that?" He knew she was trying to lighten the mood so he leaned in and whispered in her ear. "I was trying to figure out how to sneak you into the house at night," he said. "After that, who knows?" Brock knew he make a mistake when he felt Jen shudder and her arms wrap around his shoulders again and her body molded to his. "Any time," she whispered back. "I will do anything you want. If I have to tie Mom to a chair to come over here, I will. If you want me right now, just say the word. If you want to date Merie and fuck me, I'll let you. If you want me to fuck Merie, I'll do it." "Whoa, whoa," Brock said as he disengaged himself from Jen and sat down. "I promise I will never take advantage of you. If we ever get to that point it will be because it is something that's natural. Honestly, Jen, right now I don't foresee that happening. You're beautiful, I hope you know that. And, well, I'm a normal teenaged boy — in that respect at least. But please don't throw yourself at me. And please don't focus on something that's probably never coming back. "As your friend, I need to tell you that. OK?" Jen sighed and smiled at him. "I can hope though," she said. "You can't take that away from me. I guess I should tell you why I'm here. Mom is having guests over the Christmas break. You can guess who they are. She wants to know if we can board some of the guests here or if they need to get hotel rooms." Jen saw the look on Brock's face. "I told her," she said quickly. "Can I at least tell her you'll think about it?" Brock tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. Jen considered perching on his lap but thought the better of it. "Mel can stay here," Brock said. "You can stay here — in your own room. The Walshes can stay here. Hell, your Mom can stay here. That is the limit of my generosity. I would not be comfortable allowing Tara, Suzy or Tara's mom to stay at my house. The offer is not for an indeterminate stay. For one or two nights, max. Anyone who needs to stay past two nights will need to make other arrangements — unless it is you or Mel. "You two may stay here indefinitely." "Really?" Jenny asked. "If I wanted to grab a toothbrush and spend the night tonight you'd let me?" Brock couldn't help but laugh. She wasn't going to give up easily. "Only if your bed is otherwise occupied," he said. "And all the other available sleeping spaces are likewise occupied." Jen snapped her fingers. "Damn," she said with a smile. "I should have just shown up with a toothbrush and a nightgown. I just had to clarify. Oh, well. Figured it was worth a shot." ------- Chapter 14 Merie was waiting beside her car for Brock in the parking lot. "So, did you learn the difference between real and pretend?" she said with a laugh when he got out. "Is she live? Or is she Memorex? My dad always says shit like that. Does that make sense to you?" "Not a lot, no," Brock answered. "Sorry. But to answer your question... "Are you free this weekend? If you are, perhaps we might spend some time together." Merie pumped her fist. "Yes," she said triumphantly. "I was praying for Memorex all evening." She grasped Brock's arm as they walked into school. Brock felt as though half the student body stopped to watch and then started talking about it as soon as they past. "They wonder if you're going to score The Cherry," Meredith said. "I hear there's a wagering pool. Let me know what day you get and we'll split the pot." "They might be thinking the same thing about you," he said. "Despite my dashing good looks and charming personality, I have yet to find pleasure with an actual female." Merie stopped in her tracks. "You're kidding me," she said. "You're not kidding me. Wow! Never would have guessed that one. Star quarterback unwilling to take one for the team." Brock looked at Meredith quizzically. "What the hell does that mean?" he asked. "Sorry," she said with another laugh. "I get that from my Dad, too. Sometimes I rattle off proposed newspaper headlines. I promise they're really funny in my head." "Well they seem to lack a little something in translation," Brock said. "I thought you might be insulting me there for a minute." Merie punched him on the arm. "When you've been insulted, you'll know it," she said. "Well, maybe you will. You jock types sometimes are a little slow on the uptake. But if I've insulted you and you don't get it, I promise to try again using smaller words. I'm joking by the way. That was not an insult." "I think I understand where your nickname comes from," Brock replied. "You might have given it up years ago if you could keep boys from running away from you when you start to talk." "Touche," Merie replied. "That was a pretty good one." "However, now you've hurt my feelings," she added with a mock pout. "You haven't even taken me out on a date and already you're mocking my virtuous nature." Brock was beginning to wonder if there was anything mock about the pout after all. "Sorry, Meredith," he said sincerely. "I wasn't trying to hurt your feelings. I was just, you know, joking back at you." Merie beamed brilliantly. "Got ya," she said. "I was right. You are going to be a little slow on the uptake. It was the word 'virtuous' that threw you off, huh?" "Fuck you," Brock said before thinking. "Maybe," she replied with a wink. "But don't you think we should at least go to a movie first. I mean, I have a reputation to uphold. But afterward, well, you bring the Kentucky jelly and I'll bring the video camera." There would be nothing boring about this date. That was for sure. ------- "So, tell me about your normal Saturday night," Merie said when she plopped down at the lunch table. Jen jumped in before Brock could answer. "Let's see," she said with a gleam in her eye. "Jeopardy is on at 7:30, then Cops at 8. By 10 he's usually fast asleep. He's a real animal, this one." Meredith glanced at Brock, who shrugged. "OK, I can understand Jeopardy," she said. "But why in God's name would you watch Cops? Looking for old friends?" Brock's eyes snapped open wide. "Sorry," Meredith said quickly. "I never seem to know my limits. I'm really sorry, Brock. That was a terrible thing to say." "I thought it was pretty funny," Jen contributed. "I mean, it's also a pretty valid question." Brock looked from one girl to the other. "OK, I guess it's time for the truth," he said with serious look on his face. "It all started about two months ago. I was watching Jeopardy and I saw a preview for the next show, which just so happened to be Cops. I saw something that looked familiar so I watched it. "Of course the fact that the batteries are dead in my remote and I'm too lazy to get up to change the channel might have something do with it, too." Merie let out a sigh of relief but Jen looked puzzled. "What looked familiar?" she asked. "The flashing lights on the cop car," Brock said without missing a beat. "I still see those fuckin' things in my sleep." "I promise to stay off that subject," Merie said with conviction. "I really am sorry. It was tasteless. My family has no limits. If it's something that really bothers you, you can bet they'll pick on you about it. I know you joked back, but your first reaction wasn't very pleasant. But if you need to talk about it in a serious manner, I'll do my best. OK?" In her mind, Jen formed a protest. Merie was to be the girlfriend for now. Jen was to be the best friend. In time they could switch places but not if Merie wanted to claim both spots. But she sat, seething, silently. "I'm pretty talked out about it," Brock confessed. "I know there will be questions about it, maybe for the rest of my life. But it's OK to joke about it. You might stay away from anal rape jokes though. I'm still a little touchy about those." It was Merie's turn to be shocked but Brock held up his hands. "Joking," he said quickly. "I was joking. The only screwing I got was by Lewis County. Not that a few folks didn't try but I assure you that trying does not mean succeeding." Jen shuddered and Brock immediately was ashamed of himself. "Jenny," he said but she waved him off as she got up from the table and hustled down the hall. "Don't just set there, dumbass," Merie said. "Go apologize to her." ------- Brock found Jen sitting in front of her locker. "Hey," he said. "I am so sorry. I completely fucked up." She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "Don't apologize," she said. "I'm just being stupid. Nothing happened to me that probably hasn't happened to a million girls. It would have been so much worse if you hadn't been there. I know that. I just can't believe I was that fucking stupid. "That whole month, it's like I took retard pills or something. The whole Wes thing just reminds me why you'll be out with Merie Saturday and not with me. That's most of it. I mean, it still bothers me when I think about what could have happened. But I also know that could happen almost any time. Suzy is proof of that." "Just hang in there," Brock said. "Just like you promised to be there for me, I'll be there for you. I was as angry at you as I have ever been that night and I still was there for you. That should tell you how much you mean to me. I'll never let something bad happen to you if I can help it. I promise. "I hope you'll forgive me for making light of something so serious." Jen nudged Brock with her elbow. "Go back to your girlfriend," she said. "I got Sunday morning in the Cherry pool. The guy said the winner will get about $600." Brock stood up and held his hand out to Jen. "Come on," he said. "I wouldn't know what to do if I didn't have to worry about you running up my ass if stop suddenly." "So uncool," Jen murmured. But for some reason she felt closer to Brock than she had in months. ------- Chapter 15 Meredith's dad was standing at the door when Brock stepped onto the porch Saturday night. "Good evening, Mr. VanLandingham," Brock said. "My name is Brock Miller. I'm here to pick up Meredith." Sam VanLandingham looked at the young man in front of him. He'd read all the stories and seen any news program he could find about the Brock Miller saga. He put his arm around Brock and ushered him inside. Sam was glad the boy was willing to stand up for others and for himself. Of course Meredith threatened to castrate him if he said anything unkind to Brock. And Sam was pretty sure she wasn't joking this time. "Well, I guess I don't need to ask you to tell me a little bit about yourself," Sam said with a deep laugh. "I guess I could ask you to tell me something about yourself that the rest of the world might not know." Brock looked up at the huge man and Brock didn't look up to many people. Sam VanLandingham had to be 6-foot-7 and he probably weighed close to 300 pounds. "Um, I like long walks on the beach and sunsets," Brock said tentatively. Sam's laugh boomed throughout the house and he clasped a meaty paw on Brock's shoulder. "I'll be damned," he said. "You might just be able to hold your own with Meredith. She got her smart mouth from her mother, but don't tell her I told you so." It wasn't the welcome Brock expected. It was much better. "I know Merie told you about the lottery and all that," he said. "As you're finding out, there are a lot of people who place a pretty big emphasis on money. I saw what you said at the courthouse — actually I saw it about three hundred times because Meredith would stop at every channel showing your picture but that's another story. Meredith also told me what you said to the hangers on at school. "If you need some financial advice, please don't hesitate to ask." Brock smiled at the huge man. "Actually, it's already set up," he told Sam. "I can't touch the majority of anything I actually wind up with until after I graduate college. Well, if I reach 25 and still haven't graduate I can get it but if I'm uneducated and working a minimum wage job at 25 — and believe me, I have minimum wage skills — I'll need every penny. My attorney is handling the trust. But I'll give her your number and maybe you can suggest some things." "Hell, don't give her my number," Sam said. "Left to my own devises I'd have spent every last penny on cheap booze and strippers in the first couple of months. Just like that guy in West Virginia a few years back. I'll give you the number of the guy my wife hired to manage the dough. And for God sake's don't tell Meredith about the trust. I like you and she thinks you're rich and she won't have to live on the paltry allowance we give her. "By the way, I have next Tuesday in the pool at her school. Let me know if you need me to work late." Meredith's entrance saved Brock from being more embarrassed. "Well, just so you know, I picked a date in the pool, too," she said. "So I think there's a pretty good shot I'm the frontrunner." Brock stared at her. "Hey, if I can't convince you, I'm sure I can convince somebody," she said with a laugh. "Wow!" Brock said. "Would anyone be terribly offended if mentioned that you people are nuts?" Sam's laughter filled the room again. "Nope," he said. "I would say that you're an astute judge of character." "Daddy," Meredith interrupted. "I warned you about using big words around him. C'mon, Brock. I'll explain what he meant in the car. Don't wait up, Daddy." ------- Meredith clutched Brock's hand on the way to the car and gave him a blazing smile when he held open her door for her. She turned to him as he got in the driver's seat. "OK," she said. "Serious for a minute. I've had exactly one first date in my life. I was 13 years old and two days later, we hit the lottery. My life turned upside down and no one looked at me the same way again. It was only this year that I told some of the people at school about it and I regretted it as soon as I did. "The upshot is that I have no real idea what normal first-date etiquette entails." Brock saw an opportunity and went for it. "That is good to know," he said. "I guess we can just skip dinner and head straight to my house. I hope you didn't bother wearing underwear. You won't be needing them." Meredith let out a deep sigh and the nervousness she'd been feeling left with it. "You dick," she said. "Let me guess, you have tonight in the pool." "Is there really a pool about this?" he asked although he wasn't sure he really wanted to know. "I mean, who the hell would do that? That seems pretty messed up." Merie sighed again. "Actually, I started it," she said grinning. "I decided to pretty much avoid boys when we moved here. The rumor started that I was a lez. Which is OK, I suppose, but I soon found out that even girls wouldn't talk to me because they were afraid I'd hit on them." "Merie the Fairy," Brock said. "I heard that one, too." "Let me guess," Merie replied. "Jen." Brock simply nodded his head. "So, anyway, I had one of my friends start another rumor," she continued unabated. "I wasn't a clam licker but I was very choosy. I didn't plan to have sex until marriage so unless I saw someone I was interested in marrying I didn't plan to date. "Pretty soon the nicknamed changed from The Fairy to The Cherry. Kids can be so clever. I played along and, jokingly, suggested to a couple of my friends that they should start taking bets about when I'd finally give into hormones. So, one of my friends did. There was a hundred dollars bet the first day. "The girl who was running the betting — I guess she was my bookie — moved away last summer. So a guy in my neighborhood took over the bets and I'm holding the money. Meanwhile, I pretended I didn't have a clue about what was going on. But I laugh my ass off when a guy starts to sniff around when his day comes close. "I've turned down the Prom King, the Student Council President and even a teacher, for God's sake. All of them were convinced that they could be the one to woo their way into my little thong panties. That's a preview, by the way. I'll be wearing little black thong panties the night I finally do the deed." Brock didn't take the bait. "Don't you want to know?" Merie asked. "I bet you want to know, don't you? If you ask me, I'll tell you." Brock was silent. "If you ask me, I'll show you," she tried but he wouldn't budge. Of course inside he was picturing Merie in a thong and it was about to drive him crazy but he knew he was winning some sort of battle with her by sitting silently. "So, I thought we'd have dinner at either this Thai place I found in Bascomb Bay or a Japanese Steak House down by the stadium," he said. "Which would you prefer?" Meredith put her hand on Brock's leg. "Ask me about my panties and I'll tell you," she said. "OK, Thai it is," he said as if she'd chosen. "I think you'll like it. It has a little bit of kick to it but the flavor is out of this world. It's like nothing I've ever tasted." "You're a bastard," Merie said. "Uh, how did you know?" Brock said sullenly. "I have no idea who my father is." Merie's head turned so fast she almost broke her necklace. "Oh, Brock," she said but then she saw his smile. "Fuck you." "Nope, not until my day in the pool comes up," he shot back. "But, I really am a bastard, for wont of a better term. But I take no offense." "So you are completely uninterested in my choice of undergarments," she asked. "That seems so un-boyish of you." "Merie, the pictures of you in your undergarments are so prevalent in my head that it's all I can do to drive," he told her. "In fact, if this wasn't some sort of battle of wills, I'd probably be begging you to tell me about them. And when you offered to show me, I would probably offer to sever my arm if you would. "But, since this obviously is a battle of wills, I shan't give you the satisfaction of knowing how fascinated I am with what you may or may not be wearing beneath your skirt." Merie's bright smile lit up the car. "I just wanted to make sure that you were only interested in my body and not in my money," she said with a playful squeeze of Brock's thigh. "You know, it would not be completely inappropriate for us to hold hands while you're driving. Although I don't have a license yet, I understand that the 10-2 hand positions on the steering wheel are only suggestions." Brock reached down and took Merie's hand. She immediately moved both their hands from his thigh to very high up on hers. Her skin felt exceeding warm beneath Brock's fingers. "Would it kill you to ask me about my bra?" she said thoroughly enjoying the game they were playing. "I could tell you about it if you'd like." "How about we just go through McDonald's drive through and then go parking?" Brock asked only half kidding. "I should tell you, while I'm no expert, I suspect this is not anywhere near appropriate first date etiquette." "Oh, goody!" Meredith exclaimed. "I'm outside the norm. I hope I'm above the curve. And speaking of curves ... my bra is a 34B. I wear size small panties. I probably should wear a medium but I like them a little snug. Maybe you can tell me later if they're too small. I might have you check out the way my bra fits too." Brock couldn't believe that Merie had managed to give him an erection just by talking about her underwear. He was no stranger to arousal — what teenaged boy is — but just the sound of her voice, the invitation in the lilt of her speech, made him wonder if was going to have to go home to change his boxer briefs. "I'll be good," Merie said at last but she couldn't resist. "Oh, I'll be very, very good. And very, very bad at the same time." "Merie, if for some reason you have the opportunity for another first date with someone else, I'm not sure you should use this line of conversation," Brock said. Merie smiled again. She was probably as excited as Brock was. "You can believe that," she said. "But if I did have another first date, rest assured that it would be with a boy that I felt completely and utterly safe with. I know I'm probably driving you crazy. I'm driving myself crazy. But it's fun." He could see another night with hand lotion and internet porn in his very near future. ------- The conversation at dinner was no less entertaining but significantly less sexually charged. Merie would slip in an occasional double entendre but for the most part they talked about school and friends and future plans. As Brock had promised the food was delicious. Merie wasn't a shy eater, that's for sure. She wrested the last of the appetizers away from Brock and stole a small portion of food off his plate after she had devoured her own. "You think with all that money they'd feed you once in a while," Brock said with a laugh. "Do you want to stop by the grocery store on the way home?" Merie stuck her tongue out and stabbed another piece of lamb from Brock's plate. "That's a boy," she said. "Keep talking. The more you talk, the more food on your plate for me." She grabbed Brock's arm and draped it around her waist as the exited the restaurant. "Do you find me overly aggressive?" she asked as Brock unlocked her door. "If you don't I can do better." The conversation didn't lag during the drive to the cinema but as they approached the movie theater Merie suddenly got quiet. "Brock," she said almost in a whisper. "Tonight is not the night. But I really would like to skip the movie and just spend some more time alone. Could we go back to your house?" Brock pulled into a parking space and put the car in park. "I would really like to do that," he told her. "But I really think it's a bad idea. We told your parents that we were going to eat and then to a movie. I don't think they would allow you to come to my house and I don't want to lie to them. First, your dad scares the shit out of me and second, it's a bad way to start a relationship. "Then there is the matter of my neighbor. You can bet she is either on my front porch right now or watching out of her window. If we should go back to my house I have a feeling that it would be all over the grapevine by midnight and whoever has tonight in your little pyramid scheme would be clamoring to collect. "Finally there is the matter of the images that have been racing through my head since you started talking when we got in the car. I don't mean to sound crass but I've been erect for almost two full hours. There is more testosterone racing through my body than the offensive line of the Tampa Bay Bucs right now. "This has been one of the most thoroughly enjoyable evenings of my entire life. I would dearly hate to try to convince you to do something you're not ready for and I'm almost positive that I would, in fact, try to convince you." Merie sighed. "It wouldn't take much," she said. "Actually, if you blink twice really quickly I think I would take that as a sign that we should do more. I guess you're right, though. I don't care about Jen or anyone who wants to gossip. I doubt my father would mind and I would call him to tell him where we were going before we went. But that last thing is a little too close to the truth. "Instead of going back to your house, let's go back to mine. At least there we'll have adult supervision so things won't go farther then they should. But I am not opposed in the least to kissing on the first date. If you are, then I think our first date is over and some TV at my house should count as our second date. Do you mind if I call my dad and let him know? He and Mom might be counting on having the house to themselves. If they do, a darkened movie theater sounds pretty OK right now, too." The VanLandinghams were on their way home from an ice cream run when Merie called and they had no problem with the kids watching TV at their house. "So, nothing interesting at the movies?" Sam asked Brock while Jean and Meredith made popcorn. "We didn't really look, sir," Brock confessed. "We were having so much fun talking and joking that sitting silently in a theater didn't seem like that much fun. We figured we could watch a little TV and chat during commercials." Sam nodded understandingly. "I know you live by yourself," Merie's dad said. "I appreciate that you're here and not there. Well, appreciate is too strong a word. Meredith is going to do what she is going to do. I realize that even if I don't necessarily like it. "But up until a few days ago I didn't even realize Meredith knew you let alone was willing to go out with you. What I'm trying to say is that I know you had two options and you chose to give Meredith home court advantage. To me that says a lot about you." Brock pursed his lips. He was unsure of how to answer the question. "Well, the other option did come up in conversation," he admitted. "And there were many compelling reasons to choose to go to my house. However there were better reasons not to, the foremost being that I hope to have other dates with your daughter and the last thing I want her to do is to regret any decision she might make — and not just in that regard but in others also." Sam got up when Merie and her mom returned with the popcorn but he was back in a minute with another bowl. "Jeannie, my sweet," he said in a syrupy voice. "Let's take half the popcorn and go watch TV upstairs. Somehow I doubt an evening watching "The Bourne Identity" is your idea of quality entertainment." ------- Chapter 16 The Matt Damon movie might have been on the TV but neither Brock nor Merie could have told anyone the plot. The conversation picked up where it had left off and the laughter from downstairs made Sam and Jean feel much better about leaving the kids alone. Of course talking wasn't the only activity taking place in the VanLandingham's family room. The opening credits had barely rolled before Merie and Brock had shared their first kiss. It wasn't a toe-curler but each felt a little lightheaded as they finally pulled apart. The kisses became more heated as the time passed. "Pretty, Pretty Princess," Merie said after the teens had recovered a bit. Brock was sure he'd missed something. "Huh?" he said eloquently. "Pretty, Pretty Princess," Merie repeated. "My panties. They're my Pretty, Pretty Princess undies. I got them when I was maybe 12. They are the least sexy underwear I could find. I figured if all else failed that I would be too embarrassed to take off my skirt with them on underneath. My bra has daisies on it. It was my failsafe." Brock laughed out loud. Merie's face was still flushed but her breathing had returned to normal. "I tell you that only because I'm going to take them off now," she said as she reached under her blouse and removed her bra in the way that must be taught to all girls at some secret ceremony around their 12th birthday. Seconds later her hands went under her skirt and her Pretty, Pretty Princess panties were nestled at her feet. "Here are the rules," she said breathlessly. "No more clothes come off. Nothing goes inside any of my orifices except your tongue in my mouth. Anywhere you want to touch me, please do. Anything you want to do within the rules, I will willingly accept. If something comes up that I haven't considered — no pun intended — I'll stop you. We'll stop every few minutes and make noise to keep the folks upstairs. Are you comfortable with that?" Brock nodded dumbly. He was still fascinated by the fact that he had unfettered access to almost every inch of Merie's body. "Same rules for me. OK?" At least Merie still had the power of speech. The skill had seemed to evade Brock by this point so he nodded again. His chin hadn't started downward a second time before Merie was kissing him again. He tried his best to keep his hands in neutral spots like her hips or her shoulders but it just wasn't working. Merie gasped into his mouth when Brock slipped her skirt up and ran his warm hands over her shapely butt. She crawled up and straddled his lap and kissed him even harder. He could feel her soft breasts pushing against his chest and he moved one hand from her rear and traced her ribs until he found its next target. Merie ground her naked pussy against his erection as Brock gently stroked around her taut nipple. He was certain he was going to come in his pants so he broke the kiss and called for a short break. "In a second," Merie moaned. "Just a few more seconds." Brock moved his other hand from Merie's delectable bottom and pushed it between her skirt and his slacks. His finger parted Merie's soft hair and felt her wetness. "Oh, that's it," Merie whispered. "A little lower. Fuck. There. Rub in a circle. Jesus Christ." Meredith wrapped her arms around Brock so tightly he could barely breathe. His fingers were trapped between them and Merie's hips kept moving in circles as her moans got louder. "Pinch my nipple," Merie ordered. "A little harder." Brock finally silenced her by placing his mouth over hers and slipping his tongue into her mouth. Merie's moans turned to whimpers as she reached her peak and relaxed against Brock's chest. She lifted both their shirts up and rested her warm breasts against his bare chest. Her tiny nipples felt as though they were boring a hole in his skin. "Holy Mary, Mother of God," she said a minute later. "What in hell did you just do to me? Whatever it was I want you do it again. And again. And then again. Jesus Christ that was better than finding two toys in a Cracker Jack box!" Merie burst out laughing. "I swear I crack myself up sometimes," she said, well, merrily. "Uh, baby, did you, um, cum in your shorts?" Merie was looking down at Brock's crotch which had a large wet spot. "Not quite," he said. "Almost. If I hadn't switched to my fingers I would have. Why?" "You got little girl juice all over your little soldier," she said. "Is that all from me?" Brock hazarded a glance toward his middle. He might have well have shot off in his Fruit of the Looms. It wouldn't have made any more of a mess. But Merie was laughing uproariously again. "Damn," she said. "That's going to leave a mark." "If your dad sees it I doubt that will be only mark left," Brock said without humor. "It's all right, sweetie," Merie told him. "If dad comes down I'll cover for you. I'll use my head to cover it up. In fact, maybe I should practice. "I'm expanding my rules," she added as her head dipped toward Brock's waist and she lowered his soaked zipper. "If your tongue can go in my mouth, I think this can, too." It took all of Brock's willpower to stop Merie. "Princess, you have to quit," he said urgently. "We agreed to these rules for just this situation." Merie looked at him as if he were insane. "I want to suck you off," she said. "No, I need to suck you off and you're telling me no. I have that correct, don't I? My warm, willing mouth is inches away from swallowing you up and you're stopping me. I don't fucking believe it." Brock pulled Merie up and kissed her feverishly. Her body responded and her tiny hand wrapped around his erection. "Next time," she whispered. "Next time I'm going to suck your cock. You're going to cum so hard. But I'll stick by the rules tonight." Merie's hand was slowly stroking Brock's hardness. He had been on the verge of cumming almost all night and this was too much for him. "Merie, oh, Princess," Brock moaned. When she felt him start to twitch Merie's mouth shot down and covered the head of his cock as his semen jetted into her mouth. Brock was too lost in the sensation to protest. "That was purely for the sake up clean up," Merie told Brock with a smile after she swallowed. "I wasn't in violation of any rules we may or may not have made." Brock didn't care. He had never felt anything so exquisite in his life. He mentally kicked himself for stopping her when she wanted to start out that way. Merie sat beside Brock with a satisfied look her face. But the look became something else when he slid off the couch and started kissing her knees. "Your turn," he said, looking into her eyes. He was afraid he'd see fear or disgust but he saw only bright-eyed longing. "Listen for anyone coming down the steps." Meredith started moaning even before Brock's mouth found her center. The thought of being caught in such an intimate position thrilled her beyond belief. Brock was a little unsure about what he was doing. He'd seen pictures and watched plenty of videos on his computer but, as with many things, theory and application were far different. He slipped his tongue all the way up her slit. The taste and smell were almost intoxicating. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to please Meredith. He was a rousing success in his goal. Seconds after his tongue made contact with Merie's sensitive clit her hands were clutching at the back of his head as if she were afraid he'd try to leave. But Brock wasn't going anywhere. He licked and nibbled Merie to an orgasm quickly but he didn't stop until she reached the crest a second time. He quit only then because Merie was doing her best to push him away. "I can't, Brock," she whispered. "No more, baby. It's too much right now. I can't even think." Brock pulled Merie into his arms and cuddled with her for a minute before excusing himself and heading to the bathroom to wash his face and to try to get the stain off the front of his pants. He failed to remove the telltale evidence from his trousers but at least his face didn't have any trace of Merie on it any longer. Merie resumed her spot on his shoulder seconds after he returned. "Amazing," she whispered. ------- Jean VanLandingham couldn't decide if she should follow her husband's lead and fall asleep or go check on their daughter. It was a little too quiet downstairs for her tastes. She slipped quietly out of bed and then moved as silently as she could down the steps. The sight in the family room amazed her: Meredith was sound asleep on the boy's shoulder. Her daughter, the girl who openly derided any male who attempted to speak to her, was sleeping blissfully in the boy's arms. Brock saw Merie's mom and gave a silent nod. She returned his gesture with a smile. "Were you planning to stay there all night?" she asked quietly. "If she wasn't awake by midnight I was going to wake her," Brock answered but Jean replied with a snort. "Good luck," she told him. "She's like her father. It would take a freight train to get her awake. How long has been asleep." "About an hour, I guess," he said. "I'm really not sure." Jean shook her head. "Can you help me get her upstairs?" she asked. "If we managed to wake her enough for her to move on her own she'll cuss us both out. You don't need to hear that just yet." Meredith hadn't even stirred when Brock was talking so he figured her mom was right. He shifted slightly and lifted Meredith into his arms. "Just point the way," Brock told Jean as he managed to keep Merie's hips in front of the stain on his pants. Meredith woke slightly when Brock laid her in her bed. "Umm," she said dreamily. "Are you staying?" "Not tonight, Princess," Brock said. "I had a great evening but I'm going home." Merie pursed her lips for a kiss and Brock complied. "Call me in the morning?" she asked but she was back to sleep before Brock could answer. Jean had a pretty good idea of what sort of dreams her daughter would be having tonight. "We'll be gone from noon until about 8," she told Brock. "So you might try to call as early as you can." ------- Brock managed to slip out of the VanLandingham house without mention of his pants. But of course he had company on his front porch when he arrived at his house — Jen. "How was the date?" she asked and instantly she spied the evidence Merie had left behind. "It's barely after midnight, so I guess I don't win the money," she said with a smirk. "Is that yours or hers? Or both of yours?" Brock shook his head. "None of your business," he said but he was too happy about the way his date with Meredith had gone to put much heat into his words. "Aren't you supposed to be grounded?" Jen was staring at his crotch with glazed eyes. "Can I taste?" she asked. "Please. I don't care if it is hers or yours. I just want to taste." Brock stepped back as Jen started toward him almost in a trance. "Jen," he said loudly. "Get a grip. What the hell are you doing? Jen looked in his eyes. "I am so fucking horny," she told him. "Every time I blink I see pictures of you and Merie. You're doing her. She's doing you. You're doing each other. If I can just be close to you for a minute I can get off. If you would touch me once I'd cum right on your hand." Jen spread her legs and Brock could see a wet spot in the crotch of the sweatpants she was wearing. Holy shit. His cock was erect in an instant — a sight not unnoticed by Jen. "Let's get off together," she said as she grasped his hand. "I'd love to see you jerk off. Do you wanna watch me finger myself? I'll do it right here on the porch." Brock unlocked the door and pulled Jenny into the front room. He already was starting to feel guilty but he couldn't bring himself to say no. Jenny's sweatpants were around her ankles before the door closed and she stood in front of Brock in her panties. These were no Pretty, Pretty Princess undies. Jen was wearing an almost see through white thong. The wet spot in the front made the material more transparent. Before his mind could stop him Brock dropped to his knees and started to bury his face between Jen's thighs. Instead he slipped her panties to the side and ran his finger through her pubic hair until he found her clit. She wasn't kidding about her arousal. Within seconds Jen screeched and her knees buckled. Brock followed her to the floor trying his best to keep his finger in contact with her tiny bud. But while it took Merie two orgasms to become overly sensitive Jen was already there after just one. She pushed his hand away from her wet box and gazed at him. "Make love to me," she urged. "Please, I need it. I want it so badly." The longing in her voice tore at Brock's heart but he finally gave in to his nagging conscience. "We've gone too far as it is," he said but he tried to keep his voice kind. "I'm sorry, Jen. I feel like I've taken advantage of you." She laughed. "Not hardly," she told him. "You can take me to bed right now and do anything you want to me clear through tomorrow and it still wouldn't be taking advantage of me. There is nothing you could do that I wouldn't want." Still, Brock got to his feet and Jen saw the guilt written on his face. She wasn't sure if he felt guilty about her or Merie or both. "You were just one friend helping another," she said. "I needed that so badly. I was losing my mind. I'd like to help you out now, friend." But Brock shook his head and leaned down to give Jen a kiss on the cheek. She grabbed his hand and licked off some of the remnants of her orgasm. "I've got enough to explain to Merie already," he said with a sigh. "I'm not lust crazed. Well, maybe a little. I sort of lost my head when I saw how turned on you were. But I can't honestly say I'm not in control of myself." "We don't have to tell her," Jen said and as soon as she said it she knew she was wrong. "Yes we do," she continued. "I can tell you really like her and you two get along great. So, tell me the truth, did you two do it tonight? I mean, you're going to tell her about me, it's only fair." Brock shook his head. "I'm not going to go around telling secrets," he said. "I owe Merie the truth because we're dating." Jen huffed. "Tell her the truth," she said. "Tell her I came over here all hot and bothered at the thought you fucking her and you made me cum with your finger." Brock lurched a little. "I doubt that is the best approach," he said. "You better go. Don't worry, you're not going to miss anything. I'm just heading to bed." Jen gazed at him again. "I really do want to taste what's on your pants," she said breathily. "Can I at least have a sniff?" Brock stared at her. Was she serious? "Sure," he said. "You want to try now or do you want me to leave them on your porch in the morning?" Unwilling to take the chance he would change his mind — or that he was kidding — Jen thrust her face into Brock's crotch and inhaled deeply. "Fuck, I'm a perv," she said but she didn't pull back. "It smells a little stale but I bet it was nice. Wanna hear something sick? I used to lick the crotch of my panties when I'd come home from a date with you. I'd run upstairs, drop my pants and finger myself while I did it. I'd pretend you were fucking me while someone else sat on my face. Sick, huh?" Brock blushed. In his mind he had a crystal clear image of Jen licking Merie's pussy when he fucked her. It didn't help matters that Jen's cheek was resting against his hard on. "Uh, it's not sick," he said quickly. "It's a fantasy. We all have them. I think you just gave me a new one, but that's another matter." Jen stood up but instead of pulling her sweats back up she pulled her feet through them and lowered her panties. "Tonight, you can taste me while you jerk off," she said. "You can have the real thing if you want but I don't think you do. You can pretend that Merie is riding you and you're licking my pussy." She handed her soaked thong to a blushing Brock. He was almost certain he would do just as she suggested. Before he could say a word, Jen pulled her sweatpants back up and was out the door. ------- Chapter 17 When he awoke, Brock felt a twinge of guilt about fingering Jen when he got home but he felt guiltier about still clutching her damp panties. He glanced at his clock and saw it was almost 10:30. "I'll call Merie and see if I can visit for a little while," he thought. "This is definitely an in-person confession. Fuck!" As he got out of the shower he realized he would have to visit because he had no idea what Merie's phone number was. Sam VanLandingham opened the door before Brock knocked. "I didn't expect to see you so soon," he joked. "But I'm glad you're here. My daughter has been pacing the house waiting for you to call since 9 o'clock." Brock looked sheepish. "Well, I did promise I'd call," he said. "But I don't know your number. So..." Sam's laughter filled the small room. "So you did your best to keep your word," he said. "Here's our phone number. You can go home and call her." Brock did a double take before he realized Sam was joking. "She's up in her room," Sam said. "I'll show you where it is. Oh, and we need to be on the road in about 45 minutes." Brock started to tell Sam he knew where Merie's room was but he thought better of it. When he knocked on the door Brock was greeted by "Go away!" "But I just got here," he said through the door. He wondered if Jen the Snitch had made another phone call before he could. The door flew open and Merie jumped into his arms. "I thought you were going to call," she said. "Then when you didn't, I got a little mad." Merie's voice slipped into little girl mode. "Brock is the nicest boy in the whole world, Daddy," she said in falsetto. "Can I keep him?" Sam chuckled at his daughter's antics although he was a bit unnerved by the fact she had her arms and legs wrapped around Brock's torso and Brock was holding her up by the only thing he could reach — her butt. "Well, we need to see if he's housebroken before I can commit to anything," Sam said. "Now climb off the boy before he starts getting ideas." "Daddy," Meredith said with mock innocence. "Brock is not that kind of boy." She dropped her legs to the ground but not before giving Brock a kiss on the cheek. Sam's huge hand slapped Brock's back. "One thing you need to remember," Sam said conspiratorially. "Children seem to forget than their parents were young once, too. I know what you're going to do before you even think about doing it because I was your age not so long ago." Brock hoped that statement was entirely false. Sam wandered back downstairs and Merie grasped Brock's hand and pulled him into her room. "I thought I'd give you a tour," she said. "I feel bad about last night." Brock had a lingering worry that she would regret going so far on their first date. "I don't want you to feel bad," he said. "We both got a little out of hand. I'm sorry you're having second thoughts. I worried that you might. "I don't regret anything, silly" she said as she slapped his arm, "except the fact I fell asleep before I could kiss you good night." She might not regret things now but give her 10 minutes and I bet she will, Brock thought. "You gave me a very nice kiss good night when I carried you to bed," Brock said. "Didn't your Mom tell you how you got up here?" Meredith raised her eyebrows. "Mom has been out and about since before I woke up," she told him. "I assumed Daddy carried me up here. I can't believe you put me to bed and didn't join me!" Brock blushed. "Well, your Mom was right behind me up the stairs," he said. "It was tempting but I figured discretion is the better part of valor." For the life of him Brock couldn't find a segue into what he needed to tell Merie. He hoped he wouldn't have to just blurt it out. She saved him the trouble. "Did you have any visitors when you got home?" she asked. The look on Brock's face must have told her the story. "You did!" she exclaimed. "She was waiting for you when you got home! I'll be damned." Brock shook his head. "No," he said sadly. "It most likely will be me you're damning." Merie looked at him sternly. "What did you do?" she asked plainly. "Was it more than you did with me?" Brock shook his head quickly. "Less," he said. "But more than I should have and, really, more than I wanted to. I don't know what came over me. Well, I guess I know but I don't understand it." Merie crossed her arms and stared at him. "Tell me," she said. "I think I deserve to know." Brock nodded. "I agree," he said. "Like you said, she was waiting for me when I got home. She made a couple of rude comments. Well, not rude really. I guess insinuating comments would be better. Then she saw the stain on my pants. "The next thing I know she's begging me to let her lick the stain. It was totally fucked up. I mean, it was like she was stoned or something." Merie glanced away quickly but returned her gaze in an instant. "I got her settled down — or I thought I did — then she just opened up her legs." "Oh, my God!" Merie said. "I thought you said you didn't do more with her than me." "I didn't," Brock said quickly. "She was still wearing pants when she spread her legs. But she had a huge wet spot in the crotch. I mean a huge wet spot, like she'd peed herself or something. Then she got all sexy voiced and started telling me what she'd been fantasizing about all night — you and me. "I got, uh, aroused and since she was still starting at my dick, it wasn't like I could hide it from her. Then she offered to play with herself in front of me and asked me to, you know, jerk off. I pulled her in the house and fingered her." Brock looked at the ground sadly. "I'm so sorry, Merie," he said. "My mind was telling me not to do it. But I did it anyway. I wanted to tell you what happened. I'm sorry I let you down." Merie still looked worried. "What did she do to you?" she asked. "Nothing," Brock replied. "She wanted to. But I didn't let her." Her face broke out in a huge smile. "Hell freezes over: Boy turns down blowjobs from two girls in one night," Merie said. "Part of me is pretty pissed. I won't lie. But most of me expected exactly this. Jenny Miles isn't going away. You know she's not your girlfriend any more but I'm not sure she does. "Of course, I can't really blame her. I thought she was your girlfriend when I approached you. If she hadn't shown up, I was going to ask you out anyway. And you and I never talked about dating exclusively." "I didn't think we needed to," Brock confessed. "I planned from the moment we agreed to go out to date you and only you. Of course the rest goes unspoken. I'm sorry that I hurt you." "I need to think about some things," Merie said. "I'm not really hurt. Is there anything else that happened? I want to know the whole truth before I start to think." Brock wondered if he should tell her the rest. "Well, sort of," he decided. "I, uh, I finally let her smell the stain on my pants." Merie blushed scarlet. "You did not," she said vehemently. "Oh, shit." "I did," he confessed glumly. "She told me a few of her fantasies and that was all." Merie perked up. "What are her fantasies?" she asked eagerly but Brock shook his head. "Those are her private thoughts," he said. "She shared them with me one friend to another. It wouldn't be right for me to share them with you even though I consider you a dear friend." Merie's eyes glinted. She could probably take a wild stab and come pretty close. "One friend to another, huh?" she replied instead. "Is that what you did for her? Help out a friend." Brock laughed which sort of pissed Merie off. "That's exactly what she says I did," he said. "She said I should tell you that she came over all sex crazed because she'd been thinking about, well, us — as in you and me — all night. She said I just gave her a hand. "Oh, and she left me her panties when she left." In for a penny, in for a pound, Brock thought. "She left you her panties?" Merie repeated. "I thought you said she had a huge wet spot on her jeans." "Uh, they were sweatpants and she did," he said. "It was, I don't know, obscenely erotic. Does that make sense?" Merie was amazed. Those must have been some pretty vivid thoughts to produce so much stimulation. She wants to fuck us both, Merie thought. I bet she would, too, if she got the chance. "Brock, last night was not how I normally act," Merie said. "You realize that, right? I'm not some little bimbo who throws herself at any boy. I felt comfortable with you and I enjoyed what happened. But if — and it's still if at this point — we go out again, things probably won't happen like they did last night." Brock nodded his head. He was aware of that. "I know," he said. "I don't expect or anticipate many nights like last night. If they happen, I'll certainly enjoy them. But I don't want you to think you're obligated in any way." Merie wasn't relieved but only because she already suspected he'd feel this way. "You realize that Jen would act that way for you all the time," she said. "If you called her right now and told her to do something, she would. She might be waiting for you at your house again when you get home. Hell, she might be lying on your bed as we speak. I can't compete with that. "I know I am partly to blame for what happened when you got home last night. Let me finish, please. I teased and tormented you the whole night." "You did not tease me," Brock interrupted. "To tease someone means you promise something then don't deliver. Believe me, you most certainly delivered." Merie smiled but she blushed at his compliment. Like Brock, she had worried that she pushed him too far the night before. "Well, I might not have teased you by your definition, but I certainly kept you on edge all night," she said with a large grin. "And I'm sure you were thinking of those things on your way home. The first thing I did this morning was relive them and, well, I got hot thinking about them. "I've got some time to think today so I'd like it if you came back out around 8:15 or so. We'll talk some more and I'll let you know if what happened last night will affect things with us." It was more than Brock could hope for. He had expected her to slap his face or kick him in the nuts. "I'll be here at 8:15 if it's OK with your parents," he said. "I'll ask on my way out. Have fun today." Today is about anything but fun, Merie thought to herself. ------- Jen waved at Brock when he parked his car and went inside but she didn't come over. Her panties were still resting on his pillow where he'd left them earlier. Brock knew Merie was right. If he called Jen this very minute and told her to come over and blow him, she'd be here with her mouth open in two minutes. A portion of Brock's brain was thrilled at the power he possessed over her but the bigger part was scared to death. It was an awesome responsibility and he would have to walk a fine line if he was to continue being her friend. After the night before if there ever was any doubt in Brock's mind about the value of a sexual relationship it was gone now. He was a typical boy, after all, and the one taste of the apple was all he needed to be headed down the primrose path. His mind had been enthralled with nothing but sex since he picked Merie up last night. He was erect even during his confession of his infidelity. What the fuck was that about, he thought to himself. Jen called herself a perv last night. Merie certainly was acting like a perv last night. And I enjoyed every minute of it. I guess I know what that makes me. Brock managed to clear his head for a few minutes — long enough to finish the laundry and cook some food — but mostly his thoughts revolved around Merie and Jen and all sorts of combinations. Still, when 8:15 rolled around he was heading up the VanLandingham's driveway. No one answered the knock so he waited in his car for them to return. Almost a half an hour later, he saw their headlights and got out to meet them. The greeting he got from Merie wasn't what he expected. "I hoped you had gone home," she said through her tears then she turned and ran into the house. Brock stood dumbfounded as Sam VanLandingham put his arm around his shoulder. "Today wasn't a very good day," he said simply. "She's not mad at you — at least I don't think she is. But it's been a rough day for us all." As Brock drove home he realized that at least thoughts of a prurient nature had been driven from his mind. ------- Chapter 18 Merie wasn't at school on Monday and Brock was noticeably worried. "Call her," Jen suggested. "Or maybe I should call her. If she's mad at you it's because of me." "I was there, too," he told her. "If she's mad at me it's because of me. I could have stopped but I didn't. Don't blame yourself." Easier said than done, Jen thought to herself. Her guilt was magnified tenfold when Brock sat down forlornly at lunch. "I called," he said simply. "She doesn't want to speak to me. I don't know if she meant just then or ever again. I really screwed up." Sam was waiting for Brock when he left school that afternoon. "Take a ride with me," Sam ordered. Great, Brock thought. I already feel like a bastard now her dad is going to drive me somewhere and beat the fuck out of me. I guess I deserve at least that. "I'd like to talk to you for a little while," Sam said. "I'm not sure where to begin so I guess I'll start at the beginning." He killed a man in Reno just to watch him die, Brock thought. "I worked in an ad agency four years ago," Sam told Brock. "Jean and I had been married for 15 years and we had two beautiful daughters." Sam looked across at Brock who appeared confused. "That's what I said, son," Sam continued. "Two beautiful daughters. Well, the PowerBall was running at about $400 million so on a lark I bought a ticket on my way home from work. To be completely honest, I didn't really think much about it — even when the news broke that someone in our town had won the prize. "I remembered the ticket a couple of days later and sure enough it was The One. From that day forward my life has been nothing like I dreamed it would be. "I've always joked that money can't buy happiness but it can make being miserable a hell of a lot easier. In a way that's true. But money does something to people. It makes them think they're someone they're not. "I told you my wife and I had been married for almost 15 years when I bought that ticket. Within 6 months I was thinking about divorcing her. Not because she was going crazy about the money. No, because she wouldn't let me go crazy with the money. She insisted we try to stay the same as we always were. To hell with that. I wanted something different. That's why I bought the ticket, after all. "Meredith was just like her mom. She still wanted to keep the same friends and go to the same places and do the same things. My older daughter, Leah, was more like me. She wanted to go to new places and meet new people and do new things. "Well, things turned out a lot different for all of us than what we wanted. Meredith found out that people who had known her for years suddenly didn't want to be her friend anymore and people who didn't know her name a week before suddenly acted as though she walked on water. Jean's bosses started to treat her like shit — she's a dental assistant of all things. Every time I used to greet her it was an Oral Hi Jean." Brock chuckled. This wasn't what he expected and he wondered if there was a point coming. "Anyway, Jean had worked for the same doctors for about 10 years and they convinced themselves she was going to quit to live the good life. Hell, she practically ran the office for them. They pretty much made her a glorified receptionist and started training people to do her job right under her nose. "I eventually wised up. I probably had the highest expectations of what money could do of all us and I'm the one who changed the least. About the only thing I did was strike out on my own. "Which brings us to Leah. Leah was 15 when everything happened. She was convinced she knew more than we did and she rebelled against anything we tried to teach her. She found new friends but they weren't the kind of friends you're used to. They were more like the kind of people you were around for a couple of years, if you get my meaning. "She started running with a fast crowd — trust fund kids with new cars and tons of money — and there seemed to be nothing we could do to stop her. She was into anything she could try: sex, alcohol, drugs. She started to ditch school and she ran away from the private school we sent her to. She was just a little older than 16 when she ran away. Six months later she was found under a bridge near San Clemente. She had OD'ed on heroin. "The doctors managed to pull her through but she was in a lot of trouble. She and some of her friends had robbed a store a few weeks earlier and they had taken to mugging old women to score drug money. The day we thought we were taking her home from the hospital she was arrested. The first Sunday of every month is visiting day at Great Harbor Rehab Center near Crestview. "That's where we all went Sunday. Meredith grew up idolizing her big sister. She used to dress like her, listen to the same music as her, cut her hair the same way. It was like Leah had her own living doll to play with. And Leah was a pretty good sister, too. Don't get me wrong. "When Meredith saw what happened to Leah, she closed herself off. She had a couple of close friends but she never dated. She dated one boy one time and that was it. I don't know what happened or why she didn't go out with him again but that's the way it was. "Then you came along. Meredith started talking about you a few weeks ago — before all the shit hit the fan in your life around here. Leah had to have some reconstructive surgery done so we were gone for a few weeks. I guess we missed the shit storm that surrounded you because the first thing I knew Meredith was stopping at every channel on the television to watch the news. Then she sat down and cried. Don't let the past couple of days fool you. Meredith hardly ever cries. But she was saddened by what you had gone through. "And you know where everything went right up to the time you left our house Sunday afternoon. On the way up, Meredith was still rattling on about you — about the classes you were taking, about football, about college. It's almost a two-hour drive to Crestview and she probably didn't shut up for 10 minutes of the trip. "Everything seemed perfectly normal until about a minute before we were supposed to leave. Jean asked Meredith if she had told Leah about her new boyfriend and Leah got really mad. She has some issues with the male of the species. Her mom says it's justified after what she went through but I have little patience because she put herself in that situation. But that's another story. "Meredith and Leah went off by themselves for a while and when they came back Meredith was a whole different person. She was silent the whole way home and wouldn't even tell us if she wanted to stop for a Coke or something. When she saw you in the driveway she started crying. She really hasn't stopped since. I don't know what happened or what was said between Leah and Meredith. I don't know if you might have said or done something that she misunderstood. "But I know how miserable you sounded on the phone this afternoon when I told you she didn't want to talk to you. I like you, Brock. You're young but you're not young, if that makes sense. What you said about the money really hit home with me. If I could have my daughter back, I'd give every penny of it back. "I don't make any promises. I'm smart enough to know that Meredith has her own mind and her own ideas and I can't change them. I guess Leah can change them, though. But I thought you should have an explanation for having your world turned upside down again. I know you like Meredith. I know that at 3:30 pm Sunday, Meredith was crazy about you. Between 3:30 and 4, she just went crazy, I think. "I know it's not fair to ask you but I'm going to anyway. I don't doubt that there are a host of girls lining up to take Meredith's spot. Please give her a little time. I think it scares her how she feels about you. And I think Leah told her a bunch of horror stories about what happened in her life. I don't know if there is a common reference other than a Y chromosome and I'm not sure I want to know. I really don't think things will work out with you and Meredith. You're both young and have a lot of life ahead of you. I hope they work out because you seem like a nice young man. But if they don't you can still help her in the long run by sticking beside her until she sorts through her feelings." Brock sighed deeply and bowed his head. He thought about what Sam was asking him to do. It really wasn't a difficult decision. "Tell her, from me if you would, that she can have all the time she needs to figure things out," Brock said. "I'll wait for her and consider myself her boyfriend until I hear, directly from her, that I'm not. I'll stay away from her at school until she approaches me. I won't call or write or visit until she lets me know it's OK. I'm not sure what else I can offer." ------- It was Thursday before Merie returned to school. She avoided Brock completely during the day and didn't speak to him when she passed him on the way to the parking lot. Friday passed the same way before Brock skipped out during lunch to head to Wilkins to pick up Melanie. "I can't believe you're going down and I'm not," Jen groaned. "I have to sit through boring classes while you get an exciting afternoon with my sister." Of course, Merie was within hearing distance of Jen's comment. "I knew it," Merie screamed. "My sister was right. You promised me that you would let me figure things out. But, no. A few days later you're off to screw another of the neighborhood whores." Brock had kept his composure throughout the week. But the tension had been rising each time Merie would snub him or turn away from him. "You have no idea what the fuck you're talking about, psycho," he yelled back. "I'm taking a U-Haul to pick her up from college so her Mom doesn't have to miss work. If you would have so much as nodded in my direction at all this week I would have told you because you were expressly invited to join me. But you've got your head so far up your ass you wouldn't have heard the invitation anyway." "And from the way I hear it, whores run in your family, not Jen's," he said as he moved to where only Merie could hear. "May I assume from your outburst that you've made your decision? If you have, good riddance. If you haven't, I look forward to having you completely ignore me next week." ------- Brock fumed the whole drive to Wilkins and half of the way back. He roughly tossed Mel's belongings into the U-Haul while she gave him a wide berth. He alternated between snapping at Melanie and ignoring her until she was finally as fed up with him as he was with Merie. "I never thought I'd say this," Mel snapped back after one of his outbursts, "but I'd have rather Mom came to get me. At least I knew why she was pissed off at me on the way home." Brock signaled and pulled off the next exit. Mel braced herself for another tirade but it didn't materialize. "Why don't you drive for a while," he said as he tossed her his keys. "I'm sure your Mom doesn't allow that so maybe I can redeem myself. Oh, and I humbly apologize for being a complete and total dick for the past eight hours." "You only picked me up two hours ago," she said. "Yeah, I only had myself to bitch about on the way down — well me and the other assholes on the road," Brock said with a wry smile. "I'll give you a rundown while you get us the hell home." Brock relayed the past week's events as Mel concentrated on the road. She rarely commented but nodded her head occasionally to let him know she was listening. Of course there were a few things she couldn't let go by. "You finger fucked my sister after a date with another girl?" she exclaimed. "Jesus Christ, Brock." "I know," he mumbled and continued the story. "Wait," Mel cut in a few minutes later. "You finger fucked my sister after a date with another girl and then told the other girl. Not too smart but definitely valiant." "Gee, thanks," Brock replied. Mel was steamed when the lunchroom beratement was discussed. "So, anyway, after Mr. VanLandingham told me the story, I Googled Leah," he said. "Turns out she was turning tricks for rock and not just robbing old folks of their Social Security checks. She'd lure some john to her room and her boyfriend would beat the fuck out of him and take his wallet. So, when Merie made her comment about you, I sorta said it was more like whores run in her family and not yours." Melanie groaned and rolled her eyes. "You've got to be fucking kidding me," she said. "Tell me you didn't say that in front of the whole lunchroom." "I tried to make sure only she heard me," Brock replied. "But I was pretty mad, so I'm not sure. By the way, you don't turn tricks, too, do you? It's bad enough I said it, but to be wrong about it too..." Mel smacked him firmly on the arm. "No cash up front," she said. "But you'd be surprised what a gift or two might earn you. Speaking of which, the prof told me I had an 'A' in Ethics. I consider that a pretty big gift." Brock shook his head. "I'm thinking about joining a monastery," he said evenly. "Every problem I think I've ever had in my life has been precipitated by a female." "You poor boy," Mel chided. "I feel so sorry for you. I really do. Imagine how it will be next month when you're whole harem is in town. I have to find a way to ensure my place is at or near the top of the list." "Have you heard any more from the Gruesome Twosome?" Brock wondered aloud. Melanie didn't laugh but instead fixed him with a steely gaze. "You better learn to be civil to at least Suzy," she ordered. "Your life in our neighborhood isn't going to be worth shit if you treat her badly. If Tara moves in to the area the same goes for her." "Would it be OK if I simply refused to acknowledge their existence?" he asked. "I've found out just how bothersome that can be." "Her, too," Melanie said. "She's confused. She likes you and you treated her like crap. And don't fool yourself into thinking what you did with Jen was all right. It isn't and you know it. She really does need some time to think things through and she deserves a chance to hurt you back some. "Saying terrible things to her about her sister isn't the way to handle things. You need to apologize." Brock snorted. "I'll apologize to her as soon as she apologizes to you," he said. "If she wants to call me names, she can have at it. I'm sure that I've been called worse and if I haven't I probably won't know what it means anyway. Hell, if she wants to knock the shit out of Jen I wouldn't care — verbally or physically. Jen can take care of herself. But you weren't even around to defend yourself so I did it for you. I'm not sorry I did, either." "Then you're an idiot," Melanie concluded. "You're a stubborn, insensitive idiot. You told me once that you don't care what people say about you. I honestly believe that's true. I don't care what they say about me, either. "I have about five people in this world whose opinion means a damn to me. And I'm sure none of them would talk about me behind my back, they'd say it straight to my face. If I'm doing something and they call me on it, I'll worry. If some nameless chick is jealous of me for an unknown reason, fuck her. "I mean that figuratively, Brock. Not literally, so don't think it's a request for you to snatch The Cherry." Brock thought a lot about what Melanie had said during the remainder of the trip. It made a lot of sense. Unfortunately for him, Meredith VanLandingham would be one of the five people whose opinion of him mattered. ------- True to form there was a group gathered on Brock's front porch when he and Melanie pulled in — despite the fact it was almost midnight. "I've got two words for you, Mel," he said as she turned off the key. "Privacy fence. You're going to see one at my house before the summer. A 10-foot fence and guard dogs. Maybe razor wire and land mines. Suzy and the Walshes were sitting on Brock's banister while Jen and Leslie Miles were perched on lawn chairs. They were chattering away. "We could have brought you home," Steve told Melanie. "I didn't know today was your last day until we got here. Someone failed to mention that little snippet." He gestured with his head toward Suzy. Hidden on the corner of the swing sat Merie. "Uh, guys," Brock said. "I'm tired and I haven't had a good day. If you'd be kind enough to move to party to somewhere that's not here, I'd appreciate it." Leslie looked at him and Mel slapped him on the arm. "Pardon Mr. Unsociable here," Mel said as she walked toward Merie. "I'm Melanie Miles. I'm Brock's neighbor. I don't think we've been introduced and it seems Brock isn't up to handling the task." "Meredith," she answered with a little mirth in her voice. "Meredith VanLandingham. I'm glad to meet you. I, uh, I owe you an apology." Mel put her arm around Merie. "You absolutely do not," she said as she hugged the girl to her. "But someone here — actually a couple of someones — owe you apologies." The rest of the group looked on in confusion. "Am I missing something?" Leslie asked. "You most certainly are," Mel answered. "And you will continue to be in the dark because it's none of you business. Now everyone but Brock and Merie needs to grab some crap out of the U-Haul and take into Brock's garage. "He doesn't know it yet, but I'm claiming it as my storage facility." Everyone groaned — including Brock — but they dutifully got up and headed toward the U-Haul leaving Brock and Merie alone for the first time in five days. "I don't know where to start," Merie began. "I know exactly where to start," Brock cut in. "I was way out of line today. I lost my temper and said something for the sole purpose of hurting you. It was something I promised myself I would never do and I did it anyway. I seem to be treating you that way a lot. "You're right to take time to consider if I'm the person you thought I was. I'm beginning to wonder if I'm the person I thought I was. I humbly and earnestly apologize not only for this afternoon but for everything that led up to this afternoon. I know if I would have treated you the way you deserve none of this would have happened." Merie sat on the swing for a moment gathering her thoughts. "Nothing you said today was untrue," she stated. "Well, maybe the psycho thing. I'm probably more of a sociopath. As for last weekend, I reconciled myself with that before you left on Sunday. We had a wonderful date. But that's all it was. It was a first date. We didn't get married. We didn't make any sort of commitment. "I realized that. It doesn't hurt that I knew something like that would happen eventually. At least it's at the beginning and not after we'd been together for a while. I called my Dad and had him pick me up from school after lunch. I was steaming mad. I mean window breaking mad. "When I told Dad what you said and how you said it, you know what he said to me?" Brock shuddered at the thought. Mr. VanLandingham was not someone he wanted to have angry at him. "He laughed and said, 'Good, '" Merie continued. "He told me it was high time someone called me on my prima donna act and that if I was going to let Leah's skewed sense of right and wrong dictate important choices in my life then my life was already too fucked up to salvage. "I didn't even know you knew about her. I should have told you. I let her convince me that you were just using me the same way guys used her. She took every decent thing you've said and done and turned into some sort of manipulation you were using. And the bad things, she had a field day telling me what you were really meaning. I listened to her. And worse yet, I started to agree with her. "She even took what happened in Wilkins and convinced me that you probably were trying to catch Suzy alone yourself. She managed to convince me that you had taken advantage of me Saturday when nothing could be farther from the truth. She told me that you and Jen were probably in on things together. Trying to make me into some sort of group sex toy for both of you. "I sit here now and tell you these things and they sound ridiculous. But when she had her arm around me it was like I was 11 again and she was telling me about how middle school worked and what clique I should get in. It was like her words were the gospel and I was the masses. "My Dad drove up to Crestview straight from the school. He pulled Leah out of her therapy session and read her the Riot Act. He told her she had done all she could to fuck up the life she had been given but mine was off limits. I thought the people at the rehab were going to call the cops on him. "I think I finally see his point, though. I mean, she's done nine months in a six-month rehab and she's no better than when she went in. You can't convince me that if she got out today that the first place she wouldn't stop is a crack house. "Daddy said she's in for a shock come the first of the year. He's having her transferred to a lock-down facility for at least three months. Her sentence was 6 months to a year in rehab. The judge wouldn't let her out at 6 months and he won't even have a hearing this time. I love my sister and for most of my life I wanted to be just like her. But I don't want to be like her anymore. I guess I've started to see what she's really turned into. Or maybe she's been that way all along. "Dad dropped me off here to wait for you. I don't think he realized it would be so late but I called him about an hour ago. He told me to stay here until we've got things either worked out or ended or until you get so sick of me you offer to drive me home." Brock sat staring aimlessly into the sky when his porch filled up again. "Brock, I hate to ask," Leslie said. "But it's not going to stop you, is it?" he said tiredly. Leslie stopped in her tracks and Merie felt Brock stiffen. "Brock," Merie said quickly. "Could I have a slumber party here tonight? It'll be cool and I really haven't had the chance to something like that in a long time." Brock glanced at Merie's shining green eyes and his resolve weakened instantly. "Sure," he said. "That would be fine. Just keep the noise to a dull roar and the giggling to a minimum." Merie touched Brock's cheek and whispered "thank you" before she darted off the porch to collect the rest of the group. Leslie stood back with a triumphant look on her face. It pissed Brock off again. "I would have told you to go to hell if Merie hadn't said something," he told her. "I don't appreciate being put on the spot like that. You make plans for me and then make me the bad guy when I won't play along. I'm done playing along, Leslie. "From now on if you make plans for me without asking, I'll screw them up even if it's something I want to do. Are we clear?" Leslie's expression went 180 degrees. "We're clear," she said. "I don't know why you can't just help. I wasn't asking for much from you." "And I don't know why you can't be bothered with asking me if you can use my house before deciding to go ahead and do it," Brock replied. "I guess neither of us will figure the other out." ------- Chapter 19 Brock played the dutiful host for little while, showing the girls where to find everything, before retiring for the night. The girls were relatively quiet but Brock was so tired it wouldn't have mattered. He could never figure out when the conspiracy started. The when didn't so much bother him as the who. Whoever and whenever it was, Brock wasn't alone when he woke in the middle of the night. He was nowhere near alone. Despite the fact he had shown the girls the spare bedrooms all four were nestled next to him — or as next to him as possible. Merie lay on his left side and Suzy was on his right. He had to life his head a little but he saw Mel next to Suzy and Jen behind Merie. All four girls appeared to be sound asleep — and fully clothed — so he figured it was something that didn't need his immediate attention. What did need his attention at that point was his bladder. Merie groaned when he untangled himself but she didn't wake. But Suzy's eyes popped open at his first movement. "Don't be mad," she whispered with a plea in her still sleepy eyes. Brock smiled. "I'm not," he whispered back. "I just gotta pee. I'll be back so save my spot." Suzy positively beamed. "I will," she promised as she patted the bed next to her. Brock was still groggy but he remembered to wash his hands and put the seat down before returning to his room. True to her word, Suzy was guarding the spot between her and Merie like a Doberman. Of course since Merie slept like the dead, it was little wonder the space was unoccupied but the thought was nice. Brock crawled back between the girls and Suzy nestled up close to him. "Is this OK?" she whispered. Brock nodded and slipped his arm beneath her neck so she could rest on his shoulder. Suzy let out a sigh of contentment. She couldn't believe she was actually in bed with Jordan DeVoe and he was cuddling with her. He felt a hand pull his arm off Suzy's shoulder and felt Mel move closer to Suzy's back. She wrapped as much of herself around Suzy as she could and then draped Brock's arm on her shoulder. Brock slipped his left arm under a still slumbering Merie — and amazingly she put her arm across his chest and her leg across his waist — and then managed to get rest his hand on Jen's shoulder. Brock had to admit that this was a pretty nice way to go to sleep. Merie was awake and looking at him when Brock arose in the morning. She looked so cute he craned his neck as far as he could and kissed her on the nose. "You're not pissed," she said and Brock couldn't tell if it was a question or a statement. He shook his head slightly anyway so as to not awaken the rest of the group. "How about you?" he asked. "Are you mad it's not just us in here?" Merie hugged him tightly. "Like that was going to happen," she said with a smile. "But no, I'm not angry. I think all of us wanted to be here last night so we all just came in. Now if I can get Jen's tits off my back I need to head to the little girls' room." "It's the little boys' room," Brock whispered. "I'd offer to shift a little but I'm not sure I can without waking Suzy." "I'm awake," his right side bed partner mumbled. "But I can't move either. "There's a pair of tits in my back, too," she giggled. "Leave my boobies out of this," Mel said. "I got stuck on the outside so you just have to deal with them." But she moved back so Brock and Suzy could give Merie enough space to get up. Brock saw she was wearing one of his T-shirts. It was adorable. Suzy joined Merie in heading to the facilities and Brock saw she was wearing a shirt of his, too. She was as cute as Merie. The two were no sooner out of the bed than Jen and Mel assumed their spots on Brock's shoulder. "Yuck," Jen said. "Merie drool on your shirt. Gross. At least she doesn't snore." "You're one to talk about lousy bed manners," Merie yelled from the bathroom. "Your hand was on my ass all night. Between Suzy pushing her hands between my girls and you playing with my tush, I felt like I was on a date with an octopus." Suzy turned red and stammered an apology. "It's OK," she said. "I know you were trying to hold Brock tighter not feel me up. But you did pretty well for not trying." Suzy shook her head. "Mel had a hold my boobs a couple of times, too," she said with a blush. "I think we're going steady now." "Geez, and I didn't get anything," Jen huffed. "Not a grope, not a feel, not a fondle. How about you, sis?" "Nada," Mel said. "I guess it pays to be on the inside looking out. Brock, did you get felt up?" "Not so much as a goose," he said with a laugh. "I figured with four lecherous girls in bed with me I figured I'd get lucky. But nope, my virtue is still in tact." "Oh, you got lucky," Merie said as she jumped on the bed and draped herself across Mel to kiss Brock. "You're lucky we didn't kick your butt out and make you sleep on the floor," she added with another kiss. "Hey, no PDAs," Jen said. "Have a little decorum." "Jealous?" Merie asked with a smirk and gave Brock another kiss. "A little," Jen admitted. Merie leaned over and gave a startled Jen a pretty thorough kiss on the lips. "Better now?" she asked playfully. Jen was too stunned to speak. "Come on," Merie said. "My nickname was The Fairy. You know some rumors have a basis in truth. Don't you want to find out?" Jen blushed while Brock tried to swallow his Adam's apple he gulped so hard. But Suzy saved Jen from answering. "Come on you four," she said. "It's almost 8. Dollar to a doughnut says Mrs. Miles is at the door in 15 minutes or less." The group grumbled but Mel gave Merie a pretty solid swat on the butt. "That's for teasing my sister," she said with a smile. "We could have fried bacon on her cheeks. She was so embarrassed." "Speaking of bare assed," Merie said as she jumped out of bed and lifted her shirt to show her panty-covered butt. "Oh, that's not what you meant, huh? Sorry." "Uh, you guys go ahead," Brock said. "I'll be down in a minute. I need to hit the restroom again." He wanted a minute for his erection to flag before he got out of bed. But, Merie folded her arms and stood by the door. "Uh-uh," she said firmly. "Suzy got to look at you in your skivvies last night. We want a turn, too." Brock pulled the sheet to his chin. "You had your chance last night when you sneaked in here," he said. "There are no free shows. Now scoot. Harem girls are supposed to serve the sultan's every whim." Jen and Mel each slapped an arm, Merie stuck her tongue out and Suzy shot him the bird. "Sultan, my butt," Merie said as she flipped her T-shirt up again. But she hustled out of the room and the others followed. Merie's cell phone was ringing as Brock headed down the steps. "Ha!" Jen exclaimed. "Your dad beat my mom. So there Miss Overprotected." It seems that any animosity from the day before had evaporated. He was thankful for that but he wondered how the girls could be so chummy. Brock wasn't given to overconfidence but he was pretty sure that at least three of the girls — and maybe all four — wouldn't mind a more permanent spot in his life. He hoped his harem joke wasn't taken in the wrong manner because he also had a feeling that if he pissed off one of the girls they all would be angry at him. "It was awesome, Daddy," her heard Merie say into her phone. "We had a slumber party. No, Dad. Well, he was here but he left us alone. It was me, his neighbors Jen — she's in his grade — and Mel — she's in college — and a friend of Brock's from Wilkins named Susan. We sat up and talked and ate Pop Tarts. It was really great. "Yes, he's here. In fact, he just came down the stairs. He's a lazy butt." Merie flipped the back of her T-shirt up again. Brock had to admit he was enjoying her frequent offerings. "No, things are OK," she said. "He didn't get home until after midnight and he was tired. So we didn't talk much. But the rest of us talked about him, if that counts. It was fun to get Susan's perspective about what he was like before, well, you know. "I'd like to spend the day with my friends, if you're OK with that. I'm not sure if they have plans. If they do, I'll ask Brock to drive me home. If he can't, I'll give you a call. I can't wait. Ten more days until my chauffeured life comes to an end. "Maybe we'll all go look at cars today. I can pick out which one you're going to buy me. "I'm kidding, Daddy. I'll ask him. Brock, Daddy wants to know how the gas mileage is on your car." Brock told her his estimated MPG and she relayed the information with a roll of her eyes. "Why don't you just talk to him yourself," she said into the phone. "The sultan has ordered his harem to make him breakfast since I think we ate all the breakfast food he had in the house last night. I need to come over once a week to take him shopping." She handed the phone to Brock and bounced into the kitchen before he could reply. "Hi, Mr. VanLandingham," Brock said. "What's up?" "What the hell happened to her?" Sam asked. "When I dropped her off there she was a moping, whining mess. Now she's cheerful. And it's only 8:15. She's usually a royal pain of the mornings." Brock laughed out loud. "I really have no idea," he said. "We each apologized when I got home and then she went off with her friends and that's the last I heard from her until this morning. I guess any change in her mood is a result of them, not me." "Whatever did it, I'm glad," Sam said. "I know I don't need to but I'd like to apologize for the way she treated you last week. It was wrong and I should have stopped it." "Actually, I'm the one who should apologize to you," Brock replied. "I took the information you gave me and used it to hurt Merie. I lost my temper and it was wrong of me to say what I said." "Well, it's done with," Sam said. "And it is the truth. Leah's life isn't going to get better as long as she lets that portion define her. You're a prime testament to that. I know you have a lot of bitterness and you should. But you have moved forward, too. What happened is a part of your life but you don't build your whole life around that. I tried to get that through to my daughters yesterday. I guess one for two isn't bad. "Anyway, I guess you heard that Meredith's 16th birthday is coming up week after next," Sam said. "When I heard how excited she sounded this morning, the first thing I thought of was a party for her. Do you think you could convince everyone there to come over next Saturday? She doesn't have many friends. Who am I kidding? She doesn't have any friends that aren't at your house right now. We haven't been able to throw a party for her in three or four years." Brock smiled. "I think I could help you with that," he said as he walked out on his porch. "How about a surprise party? I'm sure she won't expect it. She spends time with a couple of kids at school. I'll talk to them or have Jen do it. If you and Mrs. VanLandingham set the time, I'll take care of the details. Will that work?" "That would be excellent," Sam said with heartfelt enthusiasm. "Jean will be beside herself. If she keeps hanging around you Meredith might actually start to act like a normal kid. And if you see her looking at particular cars, take a mental note for me. She was kidding, but I am planning to buy her a car for her birthday." "I have all the Consumer Reports info from last year's models," Brock told him. "I just bought my car in June. If you want, I can e-mail it over. Merie doesn't seem like the type to want a sports car, but you never know. I thought about that route but changed my mind when I looked into insurance and safety ratings and all that. You'll save a ton if you buy a leftover from last year. I wish I could have waited but, well..." Sam was impressed. "I'd like that information," he said. "If the girls drive you crazy today, why don't you pop over and maybe you and I can hit some of the lots." The pair made plans to meet about 1 p.m. "I'm sure I can convince the Quarrelsome Quartet to hit the mall for an afternoon," Brock said. "They all claimed a T-shirt as sleepwear last night so I'm either going to have get more or do laundry. Guess which way I'm leaning." Sam laughed so hard he had tears in his eyes. "I was a little worried when she called and asked to stay over," Sam confessed. "She told me you hadn't made it home yet but she and Jen and Susan were having fun and your neighbor said she could stay there. I guess it worked out OK." "Yeah, me too," Brock said. "But I think any opportunity I had to make decisions for myself has gone by the wayside. Leslie Miles, my neighbor, already thinks she's my mother. Now I think I have four more females riding herd over me." ------- "So, what are the plans for today?" Jen asked as they sat down to a meager breakfast of toast and fresh fruit. "Besides taking Brock to the grocery store. You have nothing that's not in a can or box. Do you know that?" Brock shrugged. "I can't cook anything," he said. "I can heat up and reheat and microwave. Why do you think I ate at your house all summer? It wasn't the grace and charm of the Miles family. It was free food." Mel rewarded Brock by tossing a grape at him. "I'm going to spend the afternoon with Merie's dad," Brock announced. "He needs some help with a project and, apparently, I'm in the target demographic." Merie looked at him with raised eyebrows. "I'm not so sure I like that idea," she said with mock sincerity. "He'll be showing you baby pictures of my naked butt. I'm not sure you should be seeing things like that." Of course she stood up and lifted her T-shirt again. "Exhibitionist," Suzy laughed. "I've heard of showing your ass, but Merie, that's a little ridiculous. Do you drop your pants if you're wearing them or is this just something with the T-shirt?" "Well, I for one am not going to question her motives," Brock said. "That goes for the rest of you, too. Anyone who wants to show me their butt most certainly may." That got another handful of grapes sent in his direction. "Why don't you ladies go shopping?" Brock asked. "It seems like a female way to spend time." Three voices cried out in the affirmative but Suzy looked at the table. "I'll probably just hang out with Steve and Lisa," she said. "Money's sort of tight and, of course, my parents aren't sending child support or anything." Brock felt like an ass. "Just because we're going to the mall doesn't mean we plan to buy anything," Merie said. "The mall is to see and be seen. I don't get my allowance until next week anyway, so I'm in the same boat." Jen and Mel added their voices to the mix. "We'll get dolled up and turn some heads," Jen said. "We'll try on slutty skirts — you know, the type Mel wears — and see-through tops. We'll look at the clothes that our parents or guardians would shit if they saw us in. "The type clothes boys like Brock like." "How did I get dragged into this?" he wondered aloud. "I'm sitting here, minding my own business. I'm assaulted by flying fruit and accused of being a perv." More grapes came his way, of course. "I need to look for a pair of new underwear," Jen said looking directly at Brock. "I seemed to have lost my favorite pair. Merie, you mentioned needing a pair of undies last night, too, didn't you?" Merie looked thoughtful for a second. "I believe I might have," she said. "I have an outfit that just cries out for a black thong. I'm planning to wear it in, oh, a couple of weeks or so." Brock's eyes jumped to Merie's face but he could read nothing in her expression — until she blew him a kiss. "I'll ride back with you to my house and take a shower, if that's alright, Brock," she said. "If Jen or Mel will pick me up on their way, that is." ------- Merie was serious on the ride to her house, a rarity. "We really didn't get a chance to talk last night," she told Brock. "In a way that is good because this morning made things easier for me." Brock smiled. He was happy that everything was getting back to normal and that everyone was getting along. "Brock, I can't be your girlfriend," Merie said. His smile faded instantly and he turned expecting to see her smiling at him. Instead she was staring straight ahead. "But I, we... ," he stammered. "The only way I could be your girlfriend is if you severed all ties with the Miles sisters — and probably Susan, too," she said but she still wouldn't look at him. "Is that an ultimatum?" he asked incredulously. "Because I really don't do well with those." Merie turned to look at him. "Good Lord, no," she said. "I'd never make you choose between your friends and me. That would be ridiculous. It's an explanation. "Your life here is so intertwined with Mel and Jen that it's sometimes hard to tell where you stop and they start. Jen is convinced she's in love with you. I disagree. I think she is more in love with what you represent. But I could be wrong. "Right or wrong doesn't change the situation any. Mel, on the other hand, is in love with you but she won't admit it. She's hung up on the high school junior-college sophomore thing. I mean, really, she is less than two years older than you, but it still hangs her up. But make no mistake, if you were a year older or she hadn't skipped a year she'd be making a run at you that would make even Jen blush. "Then there is Susan. She is infatuated with you. Part of it probably is love but part of it is a serious case of hero worship. Not just because you saved her, either. There is something — she wouldn't tell me what it is but it is there — that happened well before that drew her to you. She told me last night that she's been in love with you since she was 8 or 9 years old. I truly believe it. She also feels the need to prove to you that she understands the pain she caused you — even though it was unintentional. "But they are the three big reasons that I can't be your girlfriend. You have too many girls chasing after you and they have too many unresolved issues with you right now. I consider them my friends — the only friends I have really — and it wouldn't be fair." Brock kept his eyes on the road. "So you plan to date only unsociable boys that no one else likes, is that it?" he asked sarcastically. "No, silly," Merie said with a giggle. "I plan to date you. I like you, Brock. I mean I really like you. We get along great. You laugh at my jokes whether they're funny or not. You even put up with me when I go on a rampage but you won't take crap from me. Just as Melanie does for her, I consider you the perfect guy for me." Brock's confusion must have been evident because Merie continued after a slight pause. "I want to date you," she said with conviction. "I want to go places with you and spend as much time with you as we can. But I think we have to let things play out with the others before we have the type of commitment that boyfriend-girlfriend requires. "I guess I didn't explain things very well. You look pissed off." "I guess I am a bit perturbed," Brock confessed. "They have the issues. Not me. Not you. I don't want to date Melanie or Jen or Suzy. I would like to continue to be their friend. It just doesn't make sense to me. I want to date you and only you." Merie patted his hand. "And I want to date you and only you," she said. "But that leaves us hurting three people who we consider friends. You know as well as I do that Jen is going to find a way to be naked around you. Mel said last night that she plans to move in with you in January when Susan comes to stay at the house. She is going to try to explore your relationship further, too. Count on it. "Susan has grown up a lot over the last couple of years. She is more confident than you realize and she's going to make a play for you as soon as she has her feet on the ground in Corbly. And I hear your old girlfriend and her mom are planning to move up here at the same time. She's made no bones about trying to get you back. I know this. Now, think for a minute. If you and I are an official couple do you think it will stop them? Not likely. But it will put a strain on the friendship that you already have with them and the one that I'm developing with them. "Do you see my point?" Brock shook his head. "No," he replied. "Not in the least. I know I did something incredibly stupid a week ago. But I'm not like that. Whether you and I are official or not, I'm not going to put myself in a situation where hormones override my judgment again." "OK, I understand that, I suppose," Merie conceded. "But last Saturday wasn't a mistake. At least Jen doesn't think so and neither do I. Jen is going to have sex sometime soon. She would like to wait for you to come around to her way of thinking but it's not necessary. "In fact, if Wes hadn't been a complete asshole, she would have given up her virginity to him the next time he asked her out. Now, you consider Jen your friend and I consider her my friend. Would you prefer she find some nameless asshole to fuck or would you rather she have her first time with someone special? She is drawn to your confidence — to the power of your personality. You know you could make her do anything you want. You always could have. The whole time you dated she was hoping for you take the lead so she could give herself to you. Again, if Wes hadn't overplayed his hand so quickly, she might have found herself in that sort of relationship with him. But I'm sure you wouldn't want that for her." "I would prefer she found a nice boy who is not me and began a relationship," Brock said with force. "I would prefer that I not be the focus of two sets of adolescent fantasies." Merie chuckled. "Two sets?" she inquired. "I assume you mean Jen and Susan. Try four sets — that I know of. Mel has some things she'd like to teach you. I'm sure of that. And, well, I've been thinking of a few things we might learn together." She wiggled her eyebrows lecherously. "Susan has never been on a date," Merie continued unabated. "She's never liked another boy but you. In her whole life, Brock. Think about that. She told me last night about the dance you took her to when she was in sixth grade. The way she talked about it you would think that you flew her to Hawaii on your private jet and lavished her with gifts. She said you gave her a goodnight kiss. It was her first kiss and her last kiss. You can bet the next one will come from you, too." Brock banged his hands against the steering wheel. "Fuck," he hissed. "I've never done anything to encourage her. The kiss at the dance was my first one, too. It was a nice sweet little boy-little girl kiss." Merie swatted his arm. "Of course you encouraged her," she said. "You were nice to her. You always spoke to her. You walked her home from the bus stop. You invited her to go places with you and your friends. Oh, and you saved her from being raped by three sub-humans. In girl talk, we consider than encouragement. Especially when no one else does anything nice for her. "Then there is Melanie. She made some rather poor choices during her high school days. She wasn't as bad as my sister but she was less than choosy about her dates. She quit dating completely when she went to college. She reevaluated what she wanted from a boyfriend and then she was amazed when she found out the guy she was looking for lived next door to her. And more amazed when her sister had already snatched him up. "She told me last night that if you and Jen weren't spending so much time together during the summer, she would have stayed home from Wyoming to try for a summer fling. Then she learned about your past and what you'd gone through. She sees you as a knight in shining armor who rescues damsels in distress. I guess what you did for Jen with Wes only furthered that idea. She considers herself not necessarily in distress but she does want to be rescued. From what, I'm not sure. But she wants to be rescued nonetheless. Perhaps from the mundane life her mother has force fed her the past couple of years. You have to admit, being around you lends itself to excitement. "Do you understand a little better?" Brock continued to shake his head. "So you think I should fulfill all these idiotic roles the girls have put me in?" he asked bewildered. "I should bonk Jen repeatedly; take Mel skydiving and whitewater rafting and give Suzy flowers and romance every day. Do I have that right? If I do, what do you expect from me? Wouldn't it be better for me to just disabuse the girls from the silly perception they have of me?" "But you are all those things, Brock," Merie replied. "You are sweet and caring. You are protective and nurturing. You are wild and slightly dangerous. That's where I come in. The others only want a portion of you. I want all of it. "I want the guy who makes my dad feel at ease on our first date and held open my door for me. I want the guy who buried his face between my thighs and made me almost scream even though I knew my parents were right upstairs. I want the guy who let me fall asleep on his shoulder and carried me to bed. I want the guy who diddled his friend after our date and felt so bad about it he drove over to confess. "You can do anything with Jen you want — so long as you do it to me first. You can fuck Mel on the 50-yard line after we move on to that portion of our relationship. You can take Susan to a romantic restaurant and make love to her on a bed of rose petals — after you have practiced your romantic skills on me, of course. They each get what they need and I get it all. "If I were your girlfriend, I could never allow that happen. You joked about a harem this morning. Well, I consider myself the lady of the manor and the others can be your concubines. Of course it's probably better if we keep that to ourselves. I felt so happy to wake up beside you this morning that I didn't even care that the others were there. "In fact, I hope we can all do that again tonight." Brock was dumbfounded. "So you're saying that you're OK with me having an intimate relationship with Jen, Mel and Suzy?" he asked. "I just want to be clear on this." "I'm not exactly thrilled about the prospect," Merie admitted. "But I'm OK with it. Yes. A part of me finds it exciting." Brock parked the car in the VanLandingham's driveway. "You're out of your mind," he declared. "Abso-fucking-lutely out of your mind. There is no way I'm OK with this. And I am most assuredly not OK with you having intimate relationships with other guys. Hell, it would drive me crazy if you went on a date with someone else." "Trust me," she assured him. "I've thought a lot about this. One thing we must be clear on, ours is not an open relationship. I say who you can date and still maintain our unofficial relationship. I don't want you to think you can knock off half the cheerleading team and still go out with me. But those three I think I can deal with. If I find out I'm wrong, I'll tell you. The same goes for you." "I'll tell you right now then," Brock said angrily. "I'm not OK with it. Meredith, I want to make something perfectly clear. If you don't want to date me, I understand. I probably wouldn't want to date me either. But I am not interested in dating anyone but you. If you and I aren't dating then I don't see myself dating anyone in the near future." Merie patted his hand. "You're cute," she said. "I know you don't want to date anyone but me. You're halfway in love with me. I mean, I am pretty lovable. That's why I know you'll be what those three need you to be. And I'm not telling you that you have to do anything. But I know that you don't want to hurt Jen, Mel or Susan when you don't have to. "Now let's go inside. My dad has peeked out the window three times. I think he's worried that you are I are breaking up and he's losing his new best buddy." ------- Chapter 20 Car shopping with Sam VanLandingham was an adventure unto itself. His conversation with Merie hadn't turned to vehicles at any point so Brock's only assistance was thumbing through his trusty Consumer Reports index on safety features and retaining value. But Sam managed to whittle the choices down to around five or six before the afternoon was over. Most of the time in Sam's car was spent discussing Merie and Brock. Brock confessed he still wasn't sure what was going on. "She still wants to date every chance we get but she doesn't want a boyfriend," he told Sam. "I'm not sure if it is a matter of semantics or if your daughter is insane." Sam took no umbrage at the remark. "Oh, I'll lean toward the insane," he said. "She only wants to date you, right?" Brock nodded. "And you want to date only her, right?" Sam continued. "Uh, well, for my part that is a yes," Brock said. "But that's where it gets confusing. She doesn't want me to date only her." Sam gave Brock a worried look. "Are you sure you're not projecting your feelings about monogamy onto her?" Sam wondered. "Oh, no," Brock said quickly. "Nothing like that. I have no intention of dating anyone but Merie. But, the girls she had the slumber party with, uh, well. I don't know." "They have crushes on you," Sam said knowingly. "And Merie doesn't want them to feel guilty." "Sort of," Brock said. "But more than that. She seems to want me to encourage them, to play a role in their lives. If my best friend, Bill, had a crush on Merie, I certainly wouldn't want her to fuel it. I just don't get it and I can't seem to get my point across to Merie that I'd rather not participate." Sam laughed. "Brock, if the decision has been made, you're stuck," he said. "You might as well get used to it. Merie's idea will die a quick death the first time you take one of the other girls out. I'll bet you that. Just be sure to tell her what you're doing and where you're going — and remind her repeatedly it was her idea. Otherwise it will get turned around on you. Hell, who am I kidding, it might get turned around on you either way. But I'll remind her of this, too, should it come up." "So, about the party," Sam said later. "What do you have in mind?" "Something simple," Brock said. "I've been sort of playing with scenarios in my mind. I think I'll see if she wants to go to dinner that night. I'll drive to Bascomb Bay or somewhere and I'll figure out a reason to have to go back to the house. That should give you about an hour and a half to get the people in and the cake out. I thought about having the place that catered our pregame football meal do the spread. What is her favorite meal?" "Food," Sam said with gusto. "I was beginning to think her favorite food was whatever I was having," Brock said with a laugh. "I had to revert to my prison days of holding onto my plate with one hand and shoveling food into my mouth with the other." Sam looked over and smiled. "That's what I mean about not letting it define your life, by the way," he said as he put his hand on Brock's shoulder. "A lot of people would, you know." Brock nodded sadly. "Anyway, how about Cornish game hen, parsley potatoes and some sort of vegetable," he said. "Then we'll have cake and ice cream afterward and she can open her loot." "When you said you'd take care of the details, you weren't kidding," Sam said with glee. "I want to run this past Jean. She may have some improvements but I think it'll be great. How about we tell her your car is going in for repairs and you use her new one as rental. You might even let her drive to the restaurant. Assuming she passes her driver's test that Thursday." "I like it," Brock replied with a grin. "I hope she appreciates all the hard work we're putting into this. We must have spent, what almost an hour planning out her party and her major present. Think of what we could have accomplished if we hadn't had to pore over everything with a fine-toothed comb." Sam was still laughing when they pulled into the driveway and entered the house. Jean loved the plan and the menu. Everything was set for the Saturday after Merie's birthday. ------- The girls convinced their parents to let them have another sleepover and once again Brock went to bed alone but woke up surrounded by females. This time it was Mel and Jen on each side of him with Merie and Suzy nestled in behind. The only difference from last night was that Jen had her hand firmly on his erection. Brock chuckled to himself and fell back asleep. Everyone headed home the next morning but not before Brock mentioned that he would be down in two Fridays to pick up Suzy for Merie's party. The Walshes agreed to meet him halfway on Friday and Sunday if he would reimburse them for gas. The week before Merie's birthday was filled with school and shopping. Brock had to buy not only a decent birthday gift for his non-girlfriend but he wanted to get Christmas gifts for his other non-girlfriends, too. Merie would smile and wave to Brock at school but they didn't hold hands or share any affection in public. The students chalked it up to another failed attempt to score The Cherry but Jen was noticeably upset. "Well, are you two dating or not?" she finally asked Brock late in the week. "You talk on the phone and you've been to visit her twice this week but you don't hang out at school and I never see you with your arm around her or anything." Brock sighed. "Well, we're dating but I'm not her boyfriend," Brock said with a frown. "She has a whole laundry list of convoluted reasons for it so if you want to know more than that you'll have to ask her." Jen looked at the table. "I'm sure I'm one of the reasons," she said sadly. "I'm so sorry, Brock. I am so ashamed at the way I acted that night. Do you think it'll make any difference if I promise to behave myself?" Brock shook his head. Not in the way you think, he thought. "I doubt it," he said finally. "I don't think that really entered into her decision. She says there are some issues that need to be resolved but what happened between you and me isn't a problem." "I feel like I've ruined your life," Jen said morosely and Brock about spit his milk across the room. "Trust me, Jen," he said when he quit coughing. "I've had my life ruined. You are nowhere close. Merie will figure things out or she won't. We'll just have to wait and see." ------- Brock gave Merie a new outfit that Mel and Jen had picked out on her birthday. "I hope you'll consider allowing me to treat you to a belated dinner Saturday," he asked in his most cordial voice. Merie curtsied. "I would be delighted, sir," she said in a Southern drawl. "I will have to make sure there are no familial engagements. But I tentatively accept." And everything was in place for her surprise party by late evening Friday. Brock had been watching Merie for her taste in vehicles and he found as long as it was small and cute she was happy. He suggested a Volkswagen convertible and Sam picked out one that almost matched Merie's eyes. Brock told Merie he wouldn't be able to visit on Friday because his car wouldn't be available and he drove halfway to Wilkins to pick up Suzy. He was thankful that Tara wasn't tagging along. "Oh, she is pissed at me," Suzy said with relish. "I told her about sleeping with you and she turned a shade of red you wouldn't believe. I didn't clear up her misconceptions until later in the week but she was still mad yesterday. Besides, this is a birthday party for a friend that she doesn't know. It would have been rude to include her. "Plus you would have made me walk the rest of the way," she added with a smile. Merie's new car was parked in front of Brock's house when he and Suzy go back so he figured everything was set for the next day. ------- Brock walked up the front steps of the VanLandingham house at 5:15 p.m. and Sam and Jean met him at the door with a grin and a wink. He handed his wallet to the VanLandinghams to hide and took off his jacket. Merie came bouncing down the stairs five minutes later. She looked lovely. "Wow!" Brock exclaimed. "I am severely underdressed. You look amazing." Merie blushed prettily. She had gone out Saturday morning and got her hair cut and styled. Her auburn locks framed her oval face perfectly. Brock was wearing a sweater and tan slack and he thought he should have worn a tie and jacket. But he knew Suzy and the Mileses were getting ready to come out and he didn't want them passing on the road. "Maybe I should run home and change," he said. "It'll only take me a few minutes and I'll be back." Merie grabbed his arm. "Nope, I'm not letting you out of my sight," Merie told him. "You missed Friday night date night so you're stuck with me until the small hours of the morning." "Hey, did you get a new car?" she asked when the got outside. "Loaner," Brock replied as he offered her the keys. "Mine won't be available until later and I didn't want to miss our date." "You drive. I don't want to have to concentrate on the road. Do we have reservations?" Merie asked as she got into the car. "Or do I get to choose." "You can choose," Brock said. "I was thinking somewhere along Bascomb Bay. They have some great places over there." Merie smiled. Then she slid her dress up around her waist. She was wearing a black thong. "I was thinking someplace much closer and more intimate," she said. "I was thinking your house. We'll order a pizza and watch TV. I'll call home and tell them I'm staying over and then we'll go upstairs and make love until the sun comes up." Brock actually flinched. "I'm not sure that's going to work," he said finally. "My house is a wreck. I haven't touched anything since you guys were over." "It was a mess then, too," Merie joked. "I promise I won't be looking for dust bunnies." Brock was silent. "It's just, I wanted to be prepared," he said. It was the first thing to come to his mind. "I wanted our first time to be candlelit with fresh flowers in the room. I wanted champagne and fruit. I want it to be a night you'll look back on when you're 80 and smile a smile that will get your great-grandkids to wondering. "I don't want it to be in a house with dirty dishes in the sink and dirty sheets on the bed in a room that smells like old sweat socks." Merie leaned over and kissed his cheek. He noticed she still hadn't pulled her dress back down. "We could stop the car and do it in the back seat right here and when I'm 80 I'll still smile a smile that makes my grandchildren wonder," she said dreamily. "Let's go to your house. I'll go visit the Mileses for a little while and you can tidy up a bit." "I don't think they're home," Brock said. "I thought they were going out this evening." "You're getting cold feet, aren't you?" Merie said sadly. "You've decided that you don't want to have that sort of relationship with me." Brock pulled into the closest parking space he could find and turned to face Merie. "For the past couple of weeks, I've wondered if you were crazy," he said. "But if you think that then you're certifiably nuts. I want every kind of relationship with you. I want the laughing kind, the yelling kind, the kissing kind and, yes, that kind. I dream of you every night. Just the sight of you walking down the stairs got me excited — and not just sexually aroused, either. Excited to see you; excited to spend time with you. I just want everything to be wonderful for us. "I've heard that first times are sometimes awkward. I don't know about us. We're pretty comfortable around the other. But I'm not getting cold feet. I promise you that." To emphasize his point he kissed Merie thoroughly. If this kept up much longer one of two things would happen: he'd lose his resolve and the birthday party would go on without the guest of honor because she would be naked at his house or he'd have to tell her the truth. "Let's go to dinner then," Brock said. "I'll call Jen and see if she or Mel can run across and straighten up my mess and maybe tote some candles over. We'll go back after dinner and enjoy the rest of the evening." Merie smiled prettily and gave him a wonderful kiss instead of responding. Brock looked at his watch. At this rate they wouldn't make it Bascomb Bay before he had to turn around and head back. He drove for about 20 minutes before he patted his backside. "You're going to kill me," he said. "I think my wallet fell out of my coat when I tossed it on the chair at your house. I'm sure I had it when I left the house." Merie looked at the roof of the car in frustration. "I have about $50 in my purse," she said. "Maybe we can eat light or just grab a snack and go to your house. I'll try to call Jen now." Brock turned the car around and started back to Corbly as Merie dialed. "She's not answering her cell," she said disgustedly. "I bet they went to a movie," Brock answered knowing full well they were sitting at the VanLandingham's by this point. "I'll swing by and pick up my wallet. We'll tell your parents about the change in plans and then we'll get on with our lives. "I know," he continued. "So much for making tonight the perfect night." Merie touched his shoulder. "It was never going to be perfect, babe," she said. "But it will still be wonderful. Because it's you." Brock hoped she thought he was wonderful when she realized tonight wasn't going to be The Night. ------- The VanLandingham's house was dark when Brock pulled up the driveway. "They're probably sitting beside the Miles family at the movies," Merie said. "I'll leave a message on my Dad's voicemail. You know the alarm code, don't you?" Brock shook his head. "Sorry," he replied. "You'll have to let me in. You know, they might be in the kitchen or something and we just don't see the lights. Come on." Merie preceded Brock into her house and almost jumped out her skin when seven people yelled, "Surprise!" She spun and glared at Brock. "You ... you," was all she could get out before he whispered, "Happy Birthday, Princess," with a sheepish look and leaned in to give her a kiss. "It was all just an act," she said while shaking her head. "You probably have your wallet, don't you? I should have frisked you." Sam tossed Brock's wallet across the room to him. "He planned ahead," he said with a laugh. "May I assume you were surprised?" "Flabbergasted is more like it," she said with a blush. "I'm going to get you for this," she whispered to Brock before heading off to dispense hugs to her friends. Merie was all smiles during the rest of the evening. Of course it got even bigger when she was opening her gifts. Brock gave her an emerald and onyx locket. She insisted he put it on and it looked wonderful against her creamy skin. "Uh, don't you have something else to give her?" Sam asked and Brock realized he still had the car keys. "Uh, yeah, let me get my jacket," he said. "That part didn't go as we planned." He palmed the car keys and slipped them to Sam who smiled and gave them to Merie. "You were supposed to drive tonight," Sam said. "To see how you like your new car." Merie's gaze went from her Mom to her Dad to Brock then back to her Mom and Dad. "The green Bug is mine?" she said as she raced outside. She stopped and slugged Brock on the arm. "You were going to run all those miles on my car?" she said with mock indignation. "I'll bet you didn't even put gas in it. Typical Not Boyfriend behavior." Brock stood with the VanLandinghams while Merie gave rides to the rest of her guests. "Your turn," she said to him as the last girl piled out. Brock shook his head. "You can't even walk without running into things," he said with a laugh. "There's no way I'm riding with you." Merie stood with her hands on her hips and a pout on her lips. "How do you think you're getting home, buster?" she said. "Mel, Jen and Susan have plans so they can't take you. I guess you'll just have to walk. Now get in so I can practice slapping you without looking before we hit the open road." Merie pulled down her driveway and drove about half a mile before pulling into a side street and parking. "So," she said. "How much of earlier was bull? Dirty house, fresh fruit and champagne. I should have known then something was up." Brock wasn't sure if she was mad or not. Sometimes her joking anger was similar to the real thing. "Well, my house is pretty clean, so that much was crap," he said. "But the rest of it was true. I do want our first time to be like a fairy tale." But Brock had been preparing for the past two weeks so it would have been close either way. There would be no fresh flowers, but he had a bottle of wine and he'd made sure he had fresh fruit and candles in the house. "You know this might have been a once in a lifetime chance for you," Merie said and Brock realized her anger was feigned. "I mean, I've only wanted to do this once in 16 years. And you were willing to risk it." "I was tempted," he offered. "Sorely tempted. But when I thought of the work your parents put into the party, I managed to quell my libido enough to get you back there." Merie snorted. "Mom told me about all the work they put into it," she said with affection. "I know that this was all your doing. You even drove down last night to pick up Suzy so she could be here. You somehow managed to find the two people I hang out with at school and convince them to come — and to keep quiet about it. I just wanted to check to see if you had any other excuses up your sleeve. Because I fully plan to wake up tomorrow in my sweetie's arms." Merie pulled him close for a kiss. "And you, sir, are definitely my sweetie," she said. ------- Chapter 21 Sam was resigned to the fact that Merie would want to stay at Brock's house. He wasn't sure if they were intimate yet but if they weren't it was only a matter of time. He'd seen the looks of adoration that passed between them all night. The looks weren't lost on Jean and she put her foot down when Merie asked to stay at another sleepover. "If I thought for a minute there would be any other girls there, I might consider it," she told them. "If I thought for a minute there would be any sleeping involved, I might consider it. But I think it will be just the two of you and sleeping will not be the order of business so there's absolutely no way I'll allow it." Merie was about to snap at her mother when Brock put his hand on her arm. "We understand, Mrs. VanLandingham," he said. "I hope the fact that we were open and honest with you won't be held against us. I mean, I don't want you to discourage Merie from seeing me or punish her or something for telling the truth when we could have just as easily been sneaking around." Jean was taken aback. In fact, she'd been considering doing just what Brock had said. Sam just sat back and watched the interplay. "I do appreciate your candor," Jean said eventually. "I like you, Brock. I truly do. And I hope you'll respect my decision and not resort to sneaking around." Brock felt Merie tense and squeezed her arm slightly again. "I do respect your decision about this evening," Merie said evenly. "Allowing me to stay overnight somewhere is your decision to make. And we won't be sneaking around. I have reached the age of consent in our state. I don't need to sneak around. We simply thought it would be a far better experience if it were to happen in a leisurely fashion in a romantic setting than if it were to happen hurriedly in the backseat of a car or at the lake. I have decided which way I would prefer it to be but if you're uncomfortable with the very concept, it most likely will have to be the other." Jean sputtered, her face red with anger. "Brock might be an adult," she said heatedly. "But you, my daughter, are not. I can and will decide who you go out with and where you are allowed to go and what you are allowed to do — age of consent or not." Merie's anger could be held in check no longer. "You are out of your fucking mind," she yelled at her mother, "if you think you can tell me who I can go out with. Unless you plan to keep me in my room for two more years, you better get that thought out of your head right now. In fact, I hear Wes Mansfield is out on bail. Didn't you want me to accept a date with him last summer? That shows your taste. Maybe I'll give him a call. I heard he doesn't give the girl a choice about backing out. It'll just be over and done with and you won't have to be the guardian of your daughter's virginity any more. Pick who I got out with! Not in this lifetime, mother." Sam decided it was time to intervene — albeit grudgingly. "Jean, you need to accept that Meredith is growing up and she has made up her mind about a few things," Sam said without rancor. "You can accept those decisions and support her or you simply can accept them. What you can't do is make them for her. "Meredith, you need to understand that there are some decisions that we will not be comfortable with and we will do our best to change your mind. "And there are some things that you'll simply have to accept as being unfair to you. Brock, well, you'll just have to accept that you and I have very little input into most things and move on. "But, since I'm certain whatever romantic mood you might have been hoping for this evening is gone, maybe you should just plan to watch TV for a while before calling it a night." Brock could tell Merie was still furious but Mr. VanLandingham was right. This was a war to be fought between mother and daughter and this battle was far from over. "I think it's best if I just head home," Brock said as he collected his coat. "I really didn't expect it to be an issue since she stayed there previously. I apologize. I didn't mean to start a quarrel and I hope the hard feelings won't linger." He was halfway to the door before he realized he had driven Merie's new car over. "Uh, would it be possible for you to drive me home, Mr. VanLandingham?" he asked. "I don't even know if Corbly has a taxi service and I'm afraid of what they would charge if they do." "I'll take you home, if you really want to go," Merie said sadly. "I can call Mom every two minutes so she knows we're not banging alongside the road. Or if you want to visit for a while, maybe you can sleep on the couch and I'll take you home in the morning." Brock saw the harsh look on Jean's face and made his decision. "I'm sorry, Merie," he said with regret. "But I think it's probably best if your Dad drives with us. But I will say that this is the first time I've ever experienced a loss of trust by being upfront and honest about something." Jean's eyes blazed but Sam failed to hide his smile. "Meredith, I'd be more than happy to ride with you while you take Brock home," Sam said. "Jean, maybe you could use that time to think about Brock's parting words. They sort of hit home, didn't they?" ------- The three wound up in Sam's SUV because there was no way he could fold his massive frame into Merie's new Bug. Any other time, the situation would have been hilarious. But as it was, no one even cracked a smile. Merie rode in the back with Brock and it probably was best that Sam drove as Merie's frustration and anger came bubbling to the surface shortly after the car left the driveway. "Daddy, you realize that this isn't going work, right?" she asked through her tears. "I'll fight whatever Mom has planned. And I'll win, too. Maybe not today or tomorrow. But I'll win no later than my 18th birthday. You know what will happen then, right? I'll find my own life that doesn't include her. Don't consider this a threat because it's not. It's reality. I don't fight most of her arbitrary decisions. I smile sweetly and let her have her way — the same way you do — because it mostly doesn't matter to me. But if she tries to keep me from seeing Brock — or any other person I might want to — she'll find out how little control over me she really has." Sam glanced in the rearview mirror. The conviction in Merie's voice startled him. From his angle, Brock could see the worried look on his face. "You lost control over Leah," Merie continued unabated. "I know she feels responsible for what happened. But Leah made her own choices and you couldn't have stopped her if you wanted to. You know as well as I do that she's going right back to that life as soon as the courts let her go. You and Mom can pretend all you want to. Bury your head in the sand and think everything's OK if it gets you through the day. But in the end, you know I'm right. "But I am not Leah. And Brock is not Eric Stoneman. Wes Mansfield, who she practically ordered me to date last summer, is Eric Stoneman. I knew it from the beginning. I was the one who made the right decision that time. In fact, I trust my judgment far more than hers on most things. I trust you, Daddy, because you talk to me straight. Mom tries to manipulate me into doing things then she gets all pissed when I tell her no. "If you have a valid reason for me not to further my relationship with Brock — or any other person I may choose — I know you won't pull punches. In fact, if you have a reason — other than the fact you're not comfortable with it — then I will listen and, mostly likely, accept your reason. But if her reason — or yours — is that you're not ready for me to grow up, that's not an excuse I'll accept. You don't get to decide when I'm mature enough to do things. That's life, Daddy. I hope you understand that or the next couple of years are going to be pretty awful — and the years after that are going to be pretty lonely for you and Mom." Sam was clearly upset at the words and the quiet tone of Merie's voice. He knew that tone too well. What she was saying was fact, not conjecture. "Honey, someday when you're a parent, I hope you understand better," he said sadly. "I think you're moving way too fast right now and you're experiencing emotions that are unfamiliar to you. Let me finish, please. That said, you're going to do what you're going to do. Brock was right. My generation didn't invent sex and neither did yours. Half the kids your age are sneaking around behind their parents' backs doing whatever it is they please. I realize that. But knowing in advance doesn't make it easier. I know what we told you when you were 12 and we gave you The Talk. "We said when you were ready to come to us and we'll discuss it. It was a lie. I knew it was a lie then the same way it was a lie when I told Leah the same thing two years earlier. What I should have said is the when you're ready, come to us and we'll try to talk you out of it. Failing that, we'll forbid you from doing it. When you do it anyway we'll be mad and disappointed but we will get over it. Hell, that's a lie, too. We might get over it. Leah's choices we'll never get over. She won't either. She took the sneaking around path and you see where that led. "I still worry about you. I can give you no reason to reconsider. At least not one that you'll listen to. But I can ask that you take your time and consider this very carefully before making a decision you can't take back." Merie looked across and Brock. There was an unspoken question in her eyes, but he couldn't figure out what the question was. "I've been considering this step since before Brock and I even went out," she said. "The second day of school this year Brock Miller, the boy everyone was talking about, the quarterback of the suddenly not-terrible football team, smiled at me in the hallway. He offered to hold my books at lunch so I could get my purse out of my backpack later that day. And he smiled and waved to me after school. That was when I started to consider this." Brock looked at the darkened floorboard of the SUV. He really hadn't remembered doing any of that. He doubted Merie was making it up, though. It sounded like something he'd do — at least he hoped he would do all those things. "The very next afternoon, Wes Mansfield had me cornered by my locker," Merie continued. "Mom had called his mom and told her he should ask me out again. I told him no — again — but as we've learned, Wes is not big on taking no for an answer. I looked up and there was Brock towering over top of him. Brock asked me if I was OK and Wes beat a hasty retreat. Do you remember that, Brock?" Brock considered his options. "Yes and no," he admitted. "I had Wes pegged from the first time I met him. I saw that he had a girl cornered and she looked frightened. I didn't realize it was you and, honestly, it happened more than once with him. But I remember what you're talking about. It was more about him and the situation than anything personal with you. I hope you didn't get the wrong impression." "I got exactly the right impression," Merie replied as she squeezed Brock's hand. "I got the impression that you're a nice guy who tries to treat people with respect. Things in my life were a little crazy after that. Leah didn't get paroled. She had some scars that needed surgery and Daddy had already planned it. So we had to go to the capital a couple of times to get permission to take her out of rehab. Then I was out of school for a week with the flu right before we flew Leah to the surgeon. The day I come back, well your stuff had already come out and the next thing I know you're giving your speech in the parking lot. "I saw my opportunity and took it." Brock squeezed Merie's hand back. "I'm glad you did," he said with affection. "I practically attacked the boy on our first date, Daddy," she said still clutching Brock's hand. "My decision had already been made but I waited to be sure he was the boy I thought I he was. He is, Daddy. Do you know that Brock hasn't done anything like that either?" "I mean, I know he missed a couple of years of chances," Merie continued apologetically. "But he's had plenty of opportunity in the last four months. But that's not who he is. I practically gave him the green light to play around with other girls and he told me no. When I got in the car this evening I begged him to take me to his house. But he didn't. He evaded and avoided the issue without hurting my feelings because he wanted me to have the birthday party that you wanted instead of the one that I wanted. How many other boys would have done that? They would have taken me back to their house, done me quickly and then brought me back for the party. Brock didn't even consider that." Sam was shaking his head. "This isn't about your choice of boys," he said quickly. "You know that's true of me, at least. Hell, I think the world of Brock. It's just the principle involved. Once you do this you cross a threshold that you can never return from. What's that old saying, 'You can't unring the bell?' I don't doubt you've been considering this for a while. I don't doubt that if you decide to do this that Brock will do his best to make it special. But it signals the end of your childhood. I won't be able to look at you giggling and laughing at some silly movie without knowing, inside, that you're not a kid anymore, that someone else has something to offer you that I can't compete with. I know that sounds sick. And it probably is. But I'm trying to be truthful with you. I can't speak for your mother, but this wouldn't be any easier for me in two months or two years or maybe two decades. Well, two decades might be OK." Merie patted her father's shoulder gently. "When I get a toothache, you don't try to give me a filling, Daddy," she said softly. "When I want new clothes, you don't sew them for me. It's the same thing. You're my Dad. Like it or not, you're the only one I'll get. And I know you'll always be there for me when I need you. I'll always need you, you know. Just not to decide when the time is right for this." Brock was honestly relieved when they pulled up to his house. The day had held such promise that it was awful to have it end this way. At the same time he was almost glad that he wouldn't have to have a discussion like this with his Mom. "Call me tomorrow," Merie ordered with a smile and giving him a good night kiss. "After noon might be better. I think it might be late before anyone in our house gets to sleep." Brock thanked Mr. VanLandingham for the ride home and got a rueful smile in return. "Welcome to the funny farm," Sam said. ------- Chapter 22 Brock got up the next morning to return Suzy to Wilkins — or at least halfway there. He was surprised when the Miles girls didn't join them in the car. "You three fighting?" Brock asked when they had hit the highway. Suzy shrugged and then shook her head. "I asked them not to come," she replied. "I wanted to have a little time alone with you — even if it did mean that you would have to drive home alone." "What made you think we wouldn't be picking up Merie?" he asked. Suzy gave him a knowing look. "Please, she called as soon as she got home last night," she said with a giggle. "I know more about her mother's meltdown than you do." Brock shot her a glance. "Really?" he asked. "Uh-huh," she said. "It got worse when she got home. Her mom tried to ground her. I guess there's some sort of deal between her mom and her dad. If one doesn't agree with a punishment, he gets to set the terms. Anyway, Mr. VanLandingham ended up grounding Merie for like 22 minutes or something. Brock sighed. "You know," he said tiredly. "My original plan when, well, I got out of prison was to move to a new state, maybe clear across the country, and live a quiet life for a couple of years until college started. I was just going to avoid all people and all commitments and just be by myself for a while." Suzy looked confused. "And?" she asked. "Why didn't you? Not that I'm not glad you're here." "I was going to have to spend so much time in Wilkins over the next few months that moving a thousand miles away didn't work," he replied. "Plus other states have differing laws about emancipation and all that crap, so I stayed here where my attorney could advise me and be in Lewis County when I needed to be. I just sort of picked Corbly off a map. "I'd never been there. Hell, I hadn't even really heard of it. I figured I could be the aloof asshole that I'd planned to be there as well as anywhere. It didn't quite work out how I planned. It's times like this I wish it had. Don't get me wrong, I've enjoyed the people I met there and the things I've done. But I've also created a lot of problems for people around me." Suzy laughed out loud — not with Brock but rather at him. "You give yourself way too much credit," she said not unkindly. "The problems would be there with or without you. Maybe you're making them better than they would be otherwise. Jen and Meredith are ready to explore a part of their life that their parents are uncomfortable with. That has nothing to do with you. It has everything to do with human nature. "Some boy was going to be in the middle of this. I happen to think that you're better equipped to handle this situation than anyone." Brock eyed his passenger strangely. "How do you figure that?" he asked. "I might have the least people skills of anyone you know." "True," Suzy answered, perhaps too quickly. "But you have a good sense of right and wrong — of fair play. It's one of the things I like best about you. You rarely stand around and wait for someone else to make a decision. I mean, on important things you take your time, but on small matters, you just jump right in. And if you see someone getting bullied or being treated unfairly, you don't hesitate. I'm living proof of that." Brock smiled ruefully. "I wish I could have gotten there sooner," he said softly. "I know that you went through a terrible ordeal. I'm also pretty pissed at myself for the way I treated you earlier. I should have known that you wouldn't do something on purpose to hurt me." "You're wrong about that," she said. "In fact, I might do something right now that will hurt you." Brock shot a quick look at Suzy but she continued to stare out the passenger window. "Like what?" he asked. "You're not planning a titty-twister or something, are you?" Suzy turned to him and smiled. "Well, not yet," she said. "But I am going to say some things you might not like." Brock's mind raced. "Do you remember when I encouraged you to go out with Tara?" Suzy asked. "I had a plan. It didn't work out so well, but I had a plan nonetheless. I knew Tara was most likely going to hurt you. It's who she is — well, who she was. She was a self-absorbed, self-centered pain in the butt." Brock gaped. "I thought she was your best friend?" he asked and Suzy nodded. "Oh, she was," she replied. "She still is, as a matter of fact. But she treats her friends a heck of a lot better than she treats her boyfriends. You see, I set you up with Tara so she would break your heart and I could fix it. I knew she would, eventually, treat you like crap and then I could be there to show you how a nice girl treats a guy she's crazy about. "It all seems pretty juvenile now, in light of things. But it seemed like a good idea at the time." "You know I had no idea how you felt," Brock said. "We were always, I don't know, buds. I felt a need to protect you, like I was your older brother. I just didn't look at you the way you wanted me to. I'm sorry, but I still don't." Suzy sighed. "That's because you have no idea who I really am," she said huffily. "You are still caught up on me being 13 years old. Well I'm not anymore. Do you realize that no one — absolutely no one — calls me Suzy but you? While you spent your time closing yourself off — out of necessity, I know — I spent my time opening myself up. For almost two years I was free of all the bullshit that I hated. "My Mom and Dad weren't always riding my ass about stupid shit. The kids at school didn't look at me as some freckle-faced geek. The kids at St. Bernard's liked me, JD. They liked me for me. They didn't put up with me because my buddy would whip their ass if they picked on me. Not that I minded when you did that for me. They laughed at my jokes because they were funny, not because they felt sorry for me. I grew up, Brock. I grew up and left Suzy behind just like you left Jordan behind. But when I'm around you I still feel like I'm 13 fuckin' years old. Mostly because you treat me that way. "I'm going to be your neighbor in a few weeks. Over the past month, I've tried hard to look at the person Jordan DeVoe evolved into. Some of it I like. Truthfully, some of it I could do without. It's like every ounce of fun has been sucked out your life." Brock bit his lip but he couldn't help from firing back. "Losing your Mom and spending 18 months in prison for something you didn't do tends to have that effect," he said harshly. "I didn't get to go to some fluffy fuckin' prep school in France where people liked me for me. "No, I grew up, too. I grew up in a maximum security prison where people fuckin' hated me for being convicted of trying to rape you! I grew up guarding my belongings and hording my food and hoping to God some asshole with a daughter or little sister somewhere didn't stab me in my sleep or in the shower. You'll pardon me if I found my passage to adulthood to be somewhat less wonderful than yours. And you'll have to pardon me if I'm shitty to you from time to time because you remind me so fucking much of why I was there every God damned time I look at you. In fact, I resent the hell out you most of the time and you telling me what a great fucking life you had at my expense certainly doesn't help." Susan was almost in tears but she held her composure. "That's what I mean, Brock," she replied evenly. "I didn't do any of this on purpose. I know what I could have done. I know what I should have done. I think about it every day. But I just wanted to forget about everything. I wanted to forget the look on their faces as they held me down and tore my clothes off. And I wanted to forget the look on your face when you bashed then with that club. You scared the hell out of me, Jordan. I was already terrified and you managed to scare me even more. "I saw your face! I know you enjoyed what you were doing!" Susan was practically screaming by the end. The calm she had managed to keep for so long was shattered and tears were rolling down her cheeks. But this needed to be said. "You're right," Brock screamed right back. "I enjoyed the hell out of. And you know something else? I'm glad I hurt them so badly. I only wish I'd have killed them all. Every last motherfucking one of them deserved to die for what they did to you. How many others did they do that to? Have you asked yourself that? How many more would they have done it to after they were finished with you? Well I can tell you how many they managed after I was done with them. Not another girl had to face what you did. I took out the garbage. So, fuck yeah! I enjoyed it and I'd do it again." Susan was agog. "But not for you," Brock continued. "I'd do it again for someone who wouldn't run away and leave me in the breeze. Since you're being so grown up and truthful, you need to know this. Every single fuckin' day of my life there are times I wished I'd have left you there and just walked away. Then I'd have my life back. I'd have my Mom back. Sure, your life would have been ruined — if they didn't kill you, that is. But mine wouldn't have been. "Except every time I think that way I know I could never live with myself if I'd have walked away. So, even though you and your family did whatever you could to put it all aside and left me to rot, I'm still proud of what I did to help you that day. But don't ever count on me being the one to save you again. Because you just might pick the wrong time to be in danger and I might be in on of my 'to hell with Suzy' moods. And you're still the one who ran away and did nothing to help a friend who needed you. "Don't you ever fucking forget that!" Brock's last words were said with pure venom dripping from them. "I can't forget that, Brock," Susan replied softly. "I can't forget it and I can't seem to live with it, either." The pair rode in silence for almost an hour before Susan spoke again. "That day," she said slowly. "I was on my way to visit you when they saw me. The plan with Tara wasn't working out. You weren't supposed to fall in love with her. You weren't supposed to make love to her. "I was coming over to tell you a lie about her. I was going to tell you that she was going to go out with another boy. You would have believed me. I know you would have." Brock's face was set in a frown but he nodded. "I'm sure I would have," he said. "By the way, never once did I have sex with Tara Wyatt. One hand on the boob was as far as I went. I tried to go farther, but she always found a reason to pull back." Susan looked at Brock critically. "That is not the way I heard it," she said finally. "In fact, to hear Tara talk about things it was almost like Jen's story. She kept trying to get you to do things and you wouldn't. I had my doubts until Jen told me almost the exact same story." Brock simply shook his head. "I was the one who was there," he said. "She would have a headache or she would be worried that her Mom was coming home or my Mom was coming home. Hell, maybe your Mom was coming home. I finally figured out she wanted to slow down when she felt her third period in five weeks coming on." Susan laughed. "Interesting," she said. "So I've slept with you but she hasn't. No wonder she was so mad." Susan sat looking out the window for a moment. "Brock," she said. "That also might explain the way she reacted. You know how the world revolves around her. She might have thought she was the one who caused you to do what they said you did. Put yourself in her shoes for a minute." "I'd rather not," he said. "Although God knows she has enough of them that I could probably find a pair that fits." "Brock," Susan said seriously. "Think of the guilt. In her mind she was the reason that her boyfriend forced her best friend to have sex. Then I just disappeared. I didn't contact her, either. I just left the whole world behind." Brock looked thoughtful for a few minutes. "Suze," he said finally. "I'm sure everyone has some way to justify what happened. Some reasons might be more valid than others. But to be too self-centered to look at others' points of view probably isn't a real good one." His passenger crossed her arms and looked at him. "You're probably right," she said. "But being too scared and too happy at being away from there isn't a very good one either." "I didn't say it was," Brock replied simply. "Do you know how many letters I wrote to you from jail? Probably a dozen. Somewhere in that box is a restraining order. I was threatened with intimidation of a witness charges. They would have filed them, too, except for the fact that there was nothing intimidating in the letters. "For the first week, I was worried about you. No one could find you. I worried that you had gotten lost in the woods — or worse, wandered into another group of bastards, since you were, uh, naked. Then Mom told me your whole family had disappeared. Then my attorney showed me your statement. Suzy, that's the one thing I have trouble reconciling. Your initials appear on the bottom of the first page and you signed the second page. I saw enough of your handwriting in those notes you'd leave for me than I recognized it instantly. I know there has to be a reason and I truly do believe that you didn't say those things. "But at the same time, it's hard to put two and two together. Sometimes it just equals four." "One thing I should have mentioned," she said. "I thought about it a couple of weeks ago but it doesn't make a difference now, so I didn't say anything. I handwrote my statement. The one you showed me is typed. The only thing I could think of was all the stacks of papers I signed for travel visas and passports and entrance clearance. I might have signed the statement without realizing what it was. I think I signed my name to 20 or 30 things over a two-day period." "Makes sense," Brock said with a shrug. "On the day I got out of prison, I signed my name I know 500 times. Release logs, property claims, insurance checks. I didn't read half of them. Hell, for all I know, my attorney may have adopted me." "So can we agree that Suzy and Jordan are both gone?" Susan asked quietly. "In a month, I'm going to be your neighbor. Mel told her mom last night that she was finding an apartment nearby. I think Leslie was a little relieved." Brock raised his eyebrows. "She didn't tell her how nearby," Susan added with a laugh. "I hope she waits until next week to tell her. I want to be there for the fireworks. Now, about you and Meredith, where do you see that going?" Brock was unsure of the answer so he sat quietly. "I know you plan to go as far away from here as possible when you graduate," Susan continued. "That was your plan even before all the crap. I'm not surprised you thought about moving to a mountain in Montana a few months ago." What Susan couldn't know was the Brock was considering moving away as soon as school was out for the year. Life for him was just too complicated in Corbly. Susan saw the guilt written on his face. "You're planning to leave sooner than that, aren't you?" she accused. "You're already thinking about moving way. Are you planning to finish out the school year? Were you going to tell anybody or were you just going to be gone one morning?" "It's not like that, Susan," Brock said hoping to appease her by using the name she preferred. "It's just something that's crossed my mind. I'll be done with the stuff in Wilkins by mid-summer. My life is just so, uh, complicated in Corbly. By July I could be a thousand miles away where I can truly start over." Susan stared at him. "And what about the people you leave behind?" she asked. "What about Meredith and Jen and Melanie? What about me? Are we just supposed to watch you close yourself off? You're a great person, Brock. That's why people want to be friends with you. You were a nice person when you were 5. You were a nice person two years ago. And you're a nice person now. "People in Corbly have been pretty nice to you. Do you plan to live in a hole and let no one near you? That is what you'll have to do if you want an uncomplicated life. When you helped me, your life became complicated, JD. You don't know how much I wish it never happened — not for my sake but for yours." "I can't just discount the possibility," Brock told her. "But I will let everyone know beforehand if I choose to do that. And I hope you'll keep this portion of our conversation private." "Not a chance," Susan said vehemently. "I plan to be on the phone before you're out of sight. The people who care about you need to know what you're thinking." ------- Brock drove home lost in his thoughts. Merie called his cell phone a couple of times but he let voicemail get it. He didn't enjoy talking on the phone while driving and he really wanted a little while to process his thoughts before he spoke to her. Their relationship had moved forward quickly. Merie meant a lot to him, he was sure of that. But he wasn't sure that Sam VanLandingham wasn't right: They were not a couple who could last long-term. Merie was a year behind him in school and he wasn't planning to stay around Corbly — or anywhere near it — waiting for her to finish high school. He figured in 18 months, he would be packing up and heading as far away as he could get. Dating Merie would only complicate matters more. Jen was already talking about applying to the same colleges as he did, so Brock knew it wouldn't be easy to slip away from her. A part of him was glad that he wasn't a senior this year. He had no doubt that if he were, by this time next year he'd be sharing an apartment with Jenny and Melanie Miles — and maybe their mother, too. Then a year later, Merie and Suzy — Susan, he reminded himself — would be looking for a bedroom, too. For some reason he found himself smiling at the thought. Well, Leslie could stay in Corbly as far as he was concerned, but the thought of sharing digs with four attractive young women was something that Brock found appealing. "Hmm," he said out loud. "If the rules with Merie are still in place ... woo hoo!" He spent the rest of the drive playing scenarios through in his mind. He was hard as steel by the time he got home. ------- "You trying to avoid me?" Merie asked from Brock's front porch. "I called you half a dozen times in the last three hours." Brock grinned. "So if I were trying to avoid you, it wouldn't have worked," he replied. "I don't like to talk while driving. My mind wanders enough when I'm driving that I don't need a cell phone plastered to me ear." Merie looked at Brock slyly. "Hmm," she said. "So, where was your mind going on the drive? Were you trying to figure out where you were going to live next?" Brock groaned audibly. "I told Susan that it had crossed my mind," he said. "I haven't talked to Realtor. I haven't even consulted a map. I said it was something that I had thought about." Merie still looked at him. "Have I not given you enough reason to stay?" she asked. "There is very little more that I can give you — well, nothing that's not already in the works." She smiled broadly with her last words. "And I'm sure Jen and Mel could come up with reasons for you to stay," she added. "Of course, only after I've tried my best. And Susan is just dying to give you a reason to stay close by." Brock shook his head. "How do you know that Susan didn't already give me a reason?" Brock asked with a raised eyebrow. "I mean, we had a long time together today." Merie shook her head. "She knows the rules," she said with a satisfied look. "They all know the rules. We had a conference call last night after our fiasco. I didn't want someone who shall remain nameless — but whose name is Jen — taking advantage of the situation I've found myself in." Brock laughed. "A conference call?" he asked. "Isn't that a bit formal? Don't you mean you had a hen party via telephone?" Merie flipped him off. "Besides," he continued, "that's not the major reason. To be serious for a minute, your Mom might actually have a point. What happens next summer? I know it's a long way away at this point, but I tend to look at things a little more long term these days. I'm not going to college anywhere near here. You know that. "That means for a year — at least — we're not going to see one another. I mean, with your money, you could fly out to see me every weekend, but that puts a damper on your study time." "We talked about that, too," Merie said. "I'm a long-term planner, too. I planned for almost three months to get you to notice me. I'm planning to take summer school this year. It'll allow me to bypass my junior year. I'll be a senior with you next year. I mean I only missed the cutoff by two weeks anyway. If I were born 15 days earlier, I'd already be a junior. "Jen and Susan are already juniors. You'll all graduate together." Brock shook his head. "Susan is a sophomore," he said. "She's a year younger than I am. That much I know for sure. She's was born almost a year to the day from my original birthday." "You have more than one birthday?" Merie inquired. "Are you greedy or is it a legal move?" Brock shrugged. "Both," he said with a laugh. "Jordan DeVoe was born in June. But in order to gain emancipation, I had to be 16. The judge was more than willing to move Brock Miller's birthday to May 20. I picked that day because that's my Mom's birthday." Merie nodded. "OK, that makes sense," she said. "And it is information I didn't have. No one I asked had any idea when your birthday is. I didn't want to miss it. Now, Susan skipped a year while she was in France. They had year-round classes so she gained a year. "If things work out the way I think they will, I'll go to college with you next summer. If you pick a crappy school, I'll go somewhere close by. And you already know that Jen will be wherever you wind up. Mel will, too. She's taking summer classes and is on course to graduate at the end of next summer. You see, you don't have to plan anything. We'll plan it all for you." It was what Brock had imagined on the way home — only a year earlier than he expected. Part of him was mortified at the prospect but a bigger part was thrilled. "So, how are things at your house?" Brock asked to change the subject. "Any truce in the offing?" Merie shook her head sadly. "We are in the negotiating process," she said. "Well, Dad and I are negotiating. Mom is stonewalling. I'm surprised she hasn't shown up here. It's why we're talking on the porch, incidentally. I want her to know that you and I can spend time together while fully clothed." "It might not be as much fun," Brock said cheekily. "But it accomplishes the same." "Exactly," Merie said with a laugh. "I have agreed to slow things down. I hope you don't mind but, as my Dad has told you, it's almost entirely out of your hands. We did move a little quickly and I don't think it will hurt to take a little time before we go further. Of course, Jen wasn't too pleased with that news, but what are you going to do?" "Just as well," Brock said. "We have plenty of time, it seems. You know, with you following me around like a lost puppy dog for the rest of your life." Merie shot him a playful glare. "Keep it up and it'll just be the rest of your life," she said. "And it'll be a short life at that." Brock had just sat down beside Merie and taken her hand in his when her cell phone indicated she had a new text message. "It's Dad," she said with a sigh and showed Brock her display. It read 2112. "It's code. He's alerting me that Mom is on her way." "Wanna get naked on the porch?" Brock asked with a laugh. "Or I could call Jen and Mel and we could all be rolling around together when she gets here." Merie's face lit up in a huge smile. "That would serve her right," she said. "But no. Maybe next time." Sure enough, Jean VanLandingham pulled into Brock's driveway 10 minutes later. A smiling Sam was in the passenger seat. "See," he said as he got out. "I told you there was nothing to worry about." Jean looked abashed but followed her husband onto the porch. "Hey, folks," Brock said. "Wanna come inside?" As he opened the door and walked to the kitchen, he heard the familiar beeping. "Oh, crap," he said and turned to Merie who was closest. "The alarm! Five-two-zero-six-five. Hurry. You only have like five more seconds." Merie punched in the numbers. "Your Mom's birthday?" she asked sadly and Brock nodded. "See, Jean," Sam said triumphantly. "He hasn't even been inside the door. I told you we could have called ahead." Jean looked even more embarrassed but Sam winked at Brock. "Anyway, we stopped by because we want to talk to you both," Sam said. "Last night ended awkwardly. Brock, you were put in a rough position by my family. I realize that you were part of the issue being discussed but the majority of the discussion was family business. I apologize if it made you uncomfortable. "We'd like to treat you to dinner this evening. Meredith has told me the shape of your pantry and I figured it was the least we could do. But first, we wanted to conduct a little more family business in front of you." Brock smiled and shook Sam's proffered handed. He gave Jean a stilted hug. "It's no problem with me," he said. "I feel badly about the issue coming to the forefront. I'm smart enough to know it would have come up sooner or later but I'm sure you both were hoping for later." Jean nodded enthusiastically. "Well, that's part of why we're here," she said. "I said some things last night that I meant but that I shouldn't have said. Meredith is right in that some things are out of my hands. I'm not sanctioning anything that you two do and I'm not giving my blessing. But I am withdrawing any reticence I had toward your continued dating." "Thanks, Mom," Merie said. "And I want you to know — and I've already spoken with Brock about this — that we're going to slow things down. I'd like to be able to spend the night with his neighbors, possibly even here with them, from time to time. But I won't ask for overnight visits with my boyfriend for a while." Brock turned toward Merie. "Am I your boyfriend now?" he asked only half jokingly. "What happened to the part where you wanted to date but you didn't want a commitment?" "This weekend happened," she told him while grabbing his hand tightly. "The party, what happened before the party and what happened after the party. It's all part of it. I realized that you were my boyfriend in everything but name anyway so why fight it." ------- Chapter 23 School had only one more week before Christmas break and it seemed to Brock as if the place was a zoo at times. Merie was his constant companion and when she wasn't by his side — and sometimes when she was — Jen was right there, too. The rumor mill was buzzing again and even Bill Jacobs gave him a crosswise look when he would see the three of them in the hallway. But school was nothing compared to the sight of Merie, Jen, Mel, Susan and Tara sitting on his front porch one evening when he got home from Christmas shopping. Merie greeted him with a hug and a kiss and one by one the others did the same. Tara was last and gave him a brief kiss on the cheek before turning away. "We were just planning your vacation," Merie said with glee. "I'm going to make this my unofficial residence during the holidays. Mel and Jen are staying here, from what I understand. That frees up their bedrooms. We're not sure where everyone else is going to land yet." Brock just nodded dumbly. He knew that Leslie had designs on using his house as a staging area for the 10-day break. "Well, Jen and Melanie have already claimed the space here," he said quickly. "No more room at the inn — as it were." Merie looked at him with a smirk. "Please," she said sarcastically. "We know where Jenny and Mel will be sleeping. Don't hand me that. We've done some measuring. We think all six of us can fit in your bed. "We already know five can and Tara is just a tiny little thing." "It wasn't my idea," Tara added hastily. "I know you don't want me here. I understand your reasons." Merie cut in quickly. "I'm sure Brock will consider letting you stay here if the rest of us do," she said. "I was only joking with him. I wouldn't make a decision like that for him." Brock was obviously relieved. "Let's just see if everyone can get along for a few hours," he said with a smile. "You might find that I'm no longer a person that you'd like to be around anyway. I'm a little different than what you remember." Tara looked at the others and then at the ground. "That's a good idea," she said. "I would guess I'm not the same either. At least I hope I'm not. I would like to think I've learned a little bit about respect and trust from what happened to you and from what I did while it was happening. I know I learned a lot about being a friend." Susan wrapped her arm around her friend's shoulder. "We're all having a sleepover at my house tonight," Merie told Brock. "Well, all of us but you, that is. My dad probably wouldn't mind having you stay over but Mom is still a little reluctant. Heck, Dad probably would like for you to visit just to offset the estrogen in the house." Brock smiled. "I think your Dad can handle himself," he said. "Tell him if he needs to he can call me tonight and I'll tell him a dirty joke or something." Merie laughed then she got silent. "Can we talk in private for a minute?" she asked. Brock nodded his assent and led her into the house. "Leah has been granted a furlough for Christmas," she said without preamble. "She's allowed out from noon Christmas Eve until 6 p.m. Christmas Day." Brock put his arm around his girlfriend. "That's a good thing, Princess," he said. "I'm sure it will be nice for your whole family to be together." Merie's face turned into a frown. "But I was planning to invite you to spend Christmas with us," she said. "But Mom and Dad don't think it's a good idea. Leah is, well, I think you have an idea how she can be. I know you don't want to spend Christmas Day with Tara and her mom so that rules out the Miles family. I don't want you to spend Christmas alone." Brock hugged Merie tightly. "I'll be fine," he said. "Last Christmas was spent in an 8-foot-by-10-foot room. I had food loaf for Christmas dinner because I was on restriction. Food loaf is where they toss your entire meal into a blender and you get the result. It is not appetizing. I promise I'll be OK." "Maybe I can come over Dec. 23rd and spend a little time with your family." Merie's eyes were filled with tears. "I promise I won't have any private talks with her," she told him. "If she says one mean thing about you, I'll knock her brand new teeth down her throat." Merie wiped her eyes and looked around the room. "You don't even have a tree," she said. "No tree, no decorations. You can't even tell it's late December." Brock shrugged. "That stuff was always Mom's thing," he said and a memory brought a small smile to his face. "Every year we would have the annual Christmas tree fight. She would want me to rearrange all the furniture in the house to put the tree in front of the window. Keep in mind there wasn't a soul who could see our house from the road. Ask Suzy, she'll tell you. "And every year I'd tell her it was the last time I was moving that darned couch clear across the room to accommodate a Christmas tree. But every year, sure as heck, I'd be trotting that heavy sleeper sofa across the floor in mid December and moving it back the day after New Year's." Reminiscing had brought tears to Brock's eyes now. "It's funny," he said as he dried them away. "That's the stuff I miss most. I pretty much decided that I wasn't going to fool with it this year." "I can't take the place of your Mom," Merie said quietly. "But I can order you around a little if you'd like." She gave Brock a kiss on the cheek and headed back outside to the others. ------- The holidays got off to a roaring start. The girls decided to make prank phone calls to Brock's house about every 20 minutes. When he unplugged his phone they bombarded his cell phone with text messages. Each one was a little more provocative than the one that preceded it. He finally shut his phone off at 9 p.m. but a half hour later his evening was interrupted by a knock on the door. He was shocked to see Erin Wyatt standing on his porch. "I know this is a surprise," Erin said. "And I hope I'm not intruding. I hope I can take a few minutes of your time." The messages from the girls had Brock in a playful mood, so he stepped aside and invited her in. "Tara and I have found a house nearby," Erin began. "I know your feelings toward me and my daughter and I don't blame you for them. I can go down a laundry lists of mistakes but we'd be here half the night and probably not get close to the end. "Susan is going to be living here," she continued. "I think that is a foregone conclusion. Tara wants to live close to her only friend. The same people who deserted you a couple of years ago have deserted her since the truth came out. It hasn't been easy for her, either. Tara said you know about what she tried to do in May. Believe it or not, things only were worse afterward. If Susan hadn't come back, I'm sure Tara would have found another way. "But after she spend Thanksgiving up here, she seemed better. She is really looking forward to a new start. I know you can understand that. In truth, I am, too." Brock really didn't understand what this had to do with him. In fact, his jovial mood was coming to a rapid end. But he still stood silently while Erin talked. "The upside is, we won't move here if it will make your life more difficult," she said. "We owe that much to you — and probably a lot more. I'd like to live here. It seems like a nice place. Tara would like to live here to be close to Susan — and to you. But neither of us is willing to look for happiness here if it is at your expense. I hope you'll take a few days to consider whether or not you'll be able to live the life you want here if Tara and I are nearby." Brock shook his head to clear the confusion. "You're saying that if I tell you I don't want you living in Corbly, you won't come here?" he asked. "Am I hearing this right?" Erin looked at the floor and nodded. "Mrs. Wyatt," Brock said, choosing his words carefully. He didn't want to sound flippant or harsh. "I appreciate that you've taken my feelings into consideration," he said. "It really does mean something to me that you have. But I think you're way off base. "If you think you and Tara will be happy here, to hell with me. If I don't like you living here, I got two choices — live with it or get over it. I've told my neighbors that a hundred times and they've always managed to do one or the other. Regardless of my feelings toward your family, I would never do anything to impede your happiness — even at the expense of my own. You might find this hard to believe, but I truly hope that you and Tara find happiness." Erin looked up and smiled. "I don't find that hard to believe, Jordan," she said. "Sorry, Brock. Tara had, uh, several boyfriends before you. You know that. You were the only one I liked. At the same time, I hope you can someday look at things objectively from Tara's point of view and from mine. I know we were wrong. But we didn't know it at the time. You had been accused of a litany of heinous crimes. I mean, seriously, how many innocent people did you meet while you were in the penal system?" Brock considered her question. "Probably not a one," he said truthfully. "There might have been a few here or there who didn't do the crime they were accused of but they had done a bunch of other things they had managed to get away with, too." "Please don't think I'm trying to justify Tara's actions or my own," Erin said. "I couldn't begin to do that successfully. But from where I was standing at the time, it seemed like the only way for Tara to survive. It was an impossible time. You know that from your end but it was tough from ours, too. Tara was a typical 14-year-old girl. She believed you didn't do it. But so many people were saying such terrible things about you. When all you hear is how awful a person is from people you've been trained to respect, it breaks you down. "At the beginning, I forbade her from contacting you. I'll admit to that. I did it simply because I didn't know what the hell else to do. Left to her own devices, she would have made me drive to the youth facility every day to visit. She would have written you ten letters a week. When the police questioned me a day or so after you were arrested they intimated that you had forced Tara into a sexual relationship, too. Make no mistake, you were convicted the day you were arrested. Now I know why so many people were lining up to bash you. But, damn it, I began to believe that you might have. Even after the doctor assured me that Tara still had a hymen, I believed them. "I believed them right up to the time the whole story came out. Then I was ashamed of myself. The day I found out the truth, I came home to see if Tara wanted to drive up to Wallingford to apologize to you in person. Well, you know what I found when I got home. By the time that drama was over, you had disappeared. Then in November the story about you coming back to Wilkins came out. I tried to talk Tara into waiting to see you. But I had been wrong so many times about what was right and wrong that I let her do what she wanted. She told me how you reacted when you got off the bus. She thought she and Susan would be the only ones there. Then that stupid jacket. What a bunch of self-serving drivel. Whoever thought that crap up should be fired." At some point, the pair had sat down on Brock's couch and Erin looked up seemingly surprised to see that the surroundings had changed. "My point is, and then I'll leave you alone," she said. "I don't want you to have to consider living elsewhere if you find yourself uncomfortable here. And I want to tell you how ashamed I am for the way I behaved and for pulling Tara away when you needed a friend. It's no excuse, but I am terribly sorry." "I think I can say without fear of being untruthful that your family's proximity to me will have little bearing on my comfort," Brock said. "I'm sure Tara has told you that I have some issues that I need to resolve and I'm trying to do just that. I doubt I will be inviting you and your daughter for any back yard barbecues but a few weeks ago, I could say the same about Susan. I can say I'll put forth an honest effort to get to know Tara again and I'll offer a solemn promise that I will do nothing to make her life uncomfortable here. I hope that's fair enough because I'm not sure I can offer more at this point." "It was nice of you girlfriend to invite her to sleep over tonight," Erin said with a half smile. "Of course she might just want to get her somewhere she can kick the crap out her. If that's the case, I should have gone, too." Brock smiled back at Erin and shook his head. "I've had enough prank phone calls to assure that Merie didn't invite her out there for that," Brock said. "And I think you can count on Tara having at least four friends here when you move." Erin seemed to take this as the time to leave. "I still can't believe I fell for that line of crap they were spewing," Erin said as she opened the door. "This is the boy I remember. This is the boy everyone remembered. I should have been leading the charge to convince everyone they were wrong. Instead I fell right into line with the rest of the lemmings. Thanks for taking the time to talk to me. You've really set my mind at ease." ------- Brock waited until 2 a.m. to start dialing the girls' cell phones at random. He was disappointed when he found that none of them were asleep yet. "Hey, big boy," Susan whispered into the phone when he called her. She did her best imitation of a phone sex operator. "What you wearin'? Wanna come out and party. There are five hot teenaged girls here and we're about to have a pillow fight." Brock hung up before she got too graphic. Despite the late hours, the group was knocking on Brock's door before noon the next day. They trouped in en masse, each one sidling up to Brock and making a lewd comment. Everyone except Tara who simply smiled. Brock pinched her butt as she walked past. "What, nothing from you?" he said as she gasped and turned to him. "I swear, first no nasty text messages with your name on it. No obscene phone calls. And now no groping when you past. I'm gonna start to think you don't like me anymore. You gotta get a little friskier if you're gonna fit into this harem." Tara blushed but Merie caught Brock's eye and smiled knowingly. She mouthed the words "thank you" as the rest headed into the kitchen. "We stopped at the grocery store," Mel announced. "We're going to give you cooking lessons. We might be your sex slaves but you're going to have keep us well nourished." Brock groaned. "There's five of you," he said. "Factor in Leslie and Mrs. Wyatt and everyone could just stop by and feed me once a week. I swear it will be safer." Tara's blush got deeper. "I would be surprised if my mother ever steps foot in this house," she said sadly. "She's not very good at admitting mistakes." Brock leaned over and whispered in her ear. "Surprise," he said. "Your mom was here last night." Tara jerked her head around and about bashed Brock's nose. "Not all night," Susan said. "Jesus, get your mind out of the gutter. ------- True to her word, Merie — with some help from her cohorts — had Brock's vacation neatly planned. The girls spent time as a group with Brock but Merie made it a point to try to spend at least an hour or two each day along with him. He certainly enjoyed the time. In deference to Jean, Brock insisted that the time be spent as his was with Jenny in the beginning — on the porch or in public areas. Merie was about as thrilled with this idea as Jen was, but she understood the reasons behind it. Two days before Christmas, Brock enjoyed a pre-Christmas dinner at the VanLandingham's. The whole family was on edge about Leah's visit and only Jean seemed to be looking forward to the prospect of having her daughter home for the holiday. Sam and Merie appeared to be dreading it. After dinner, Brock and Merie enjoyed a leisurely walk around her neighborhood. The couple held hands and talked about all their plans for the New Year — and years beyond. It was the first time that Brock had considered what his life might be like in 10 years. He knew what he hoped to be doing but he had no concrete plans for getting there. Merie seemed to have her future mapped out and she wasn't kidding when she told Brock she was a long-term planner. "I want to be a kindergarten teacher," she told him. "I love spending time with kids. Oh, and I want a houseful of my own, too. I would probably settle for two or three but if I have more, I'll be OK with that, too." Brock had never considered children. The early years with his mother had been rough. She was unprepared for life as a single mother and she really didn't find a suitable job until Brock was already in school. Brock knew that his kids wouldn't face that prospect, nor would Merie's. Then he considered that his kids and Merie's might be one and the same. He found himself smiling suddenly. It scared him. "What's the grin about, Bozo?" Merie asked. "Are you thinking about a bunch of children in the yard or are you thinking about how much fun it will be making them?" "A little of each, I guess," he said. "A little of each." Merie let the conversation go, but she held his arm a little tighter. She planned to introduce him to how much fun practice could be as soon as her sister was safely ensconced in rehab again. ------- Chapter 24 It was almost 11 p.m. on Christmas Eve when Brock's cell phone rang. The Caller ID was a number he didn't recognize but he knew few people had his cell number. "Well, well, well," a female voice said. "The great and wonderful Brock Miller answers his own phone." Brock didn't recognize the voice. "Who is this?" he asked. "I'm the person that's gonna fuck your world up if you don't leave Meredith alone," the voice said and Brock knew who was on the line. "Merie only need ask me once and I'll leave her alone," Brock said. "She has yet to do that. If and when she does, I most certainly will. Unlike some people in this conversation, I stay away from where I'm not welcome." "I'm not asking, fuckhead," Leah said. "I'm telling. You stay away from her or I promise you, I have some friends who will make you regret it." "Go to hell, Leah," he said. "You weren't content to fuck up your own life so you try to bring down your parents and sister, too. Really classy. But I expect no less. You may have a shitload of money, but you're still trailer trash." He closed his cell phone and switched to the off position. He'd mention the call to Sam the next time he spoke to him. ------- Brock was awakened Christmas morning by the sound of his security system beeping. He sat up suddenly in bed and was further startled when he heard the security code entered and beeping end. In a few seconds, Merie stood in his doorway. She didn't look as thought she had slept at all. "She ran off, Brock," she said through tears. "Leah slipped out of the house sometime last night. My Mom and Dad are looking all over the place. But no one's heard from her." He remembered the call from the night before. "I have," he said ruefully. "Grab my cell for me. I have a number for her, I think." Merie's eyes turned to slits. "What the fuck is she doing calling you?" she hissed. "I told that fuckin' bitch that my life was none of her concern. She started on me as soon as she walked in the fucking door. She was pissed that I spent yesterday with you instead of driving up there. This is exactly the reason. Mom and Dad signed her out. They could be charged. I am so fucking pissed at her right now." Brock tried the number from night before but there was no answer. He jotted the number down and handed it to Merie. "Give this to your dad," he said. "Maybe he can trace where the call came from. I'm sure he knows the usual suspects." Merie visited for a few minutes before heading back home. She hated what Leah had become and she hated the fact that she ruined what might have been the best Christmas of Meredith's life if she would have only stayed away. ------- Brock spent the remainder of Christmas Day alone but he was besieged by guests as soon as dinner at the Miles house concluded. Jen and Mel — along with almost everyone else — tried to convince him to spend the afternoon meal with his neighbors but Brock still wasn't crazy about dealing with Susan and Tara on a regular basis. Still, he was plenty happy to see the girls — minus Merie, of course — on his steps at 4 p.m. Of course the fact that each of them was carrying leftovers might have added to his delight. "It's party time," Jen screeched as she walked through the door. "We brought you some dinner and we're having a sleepover — a three day sleepover." Brock groaned good naturedly. "Can I expect lingerie and pillow fights?" he asked. "Or topless Jenny pillow fights?" Jen had been wearing less and less each night during the time she and Mel had shared Brock's house. She had worn only a tank top and a thong the night before. "Just because Jen is skanky doesn't mean the rest of us are?" Tara said with a laugh. "I mean, we are skanky but you don't get to know that just yet." Everyone joined the laughter. Still Brock was slightly disappointed when the evening's attire seemed to consist of sweatpants and long T-shirts. Maybe he'd offer to host another slumber party right after Christmas so Merie could join in. He was certain that she would make it interesting. ------- The girls were in the middle of a giggling contest when Brock's phone rang. "Is my daughter there?" a voice asked. "You'll have to be a little more specific," Brock replied. "I have a lot of daughters here." The voice on the other end turned cold. "Merie," an exasperated Jean said. "Is Merie there?" Merie had been almost despondent since the blow up with Leah. It had been two days since Brock had seen her and he hadn't spoken to her that day at all. "No," he replied. "Is everything OK?" "She's gone," Jean said. "We came home a few minutes ago. The alarm wasn't set and her car is still here. There was no note and she isn't answering her cell phone. I prayed she was at your house." Brock swore silently under his breath. He was already moving toward the door. "I'm on my way," he said. "I'll try her phone in case she's avoiding your calls." Brock dialed Merie's cell as he drove as fast as he could toward the VanLandingham's. A voice he didn't recognize answered. "Well, if it isn't the boyfriend," the girl said in a slurred voice. "I'll be sure to tell Meredith you called when she's done partying with my boys." "Leah," Brock hissed. "Did she tell you about me? About my past?" "Oh, yeah," Merie's sister replied. "I know all about Mr. Football — and the other stuff, too." "Then you know what's going to happen when I find you and your friends," he said. "If you hurt her in anyway, I'll put you in the ground. If you don't think I will, there's a grieving mother in Wilkins who'll set you straight. That is if your Dad doesn't catch up to you first." Brock heard the train whistle in the background and he knew immediately where the girls were. "I'll see in a few minutes, Leah," Brock said as he hung up and dialed Sam's cell. "Leah has Merie's phone," he told Sam. "I know where she is. I heard the train in the background. Merie showed me a place where Leah used to party. It's about five minutes from your house. I'm about 2 minutes away." Brock heard Sam start his car. "Wait for me," Sam ordered. "I'll be there right behind you." "No promises, Sam," Brock said. "But if Leah or those guys have hurt her, you better get there quick." Brock closed his cell as he pulled into the abandoned rail yard. He opened his trunk and pulled the 9 iron out of his golf bag. Then he headed toward the back of the lot. He could smell the crack residue in the air before he could see the old rail car. In the background he heard gravel flying as Sam VanLandingham pulled into the lot just before he pushed open the door and went in. The scene that greeted him sent a cold fury into him. Leah VanLandingham and three guys were standing over a naked Merie. Their laughter abruptly ended when they saw Brock. "I told you what would happen when I found you, Leah," Brock yelled. "Did you fucking think I was lying?" One of the boys stepped toward Brock and then fell to the rail car floor as Brock swung with all his might and the golf club head shattered the man's knee. "I'm going to fucking kill you all!" Brock screamed and charged at the two men left standing. Only Sam VanLandingham's strong hand held him from fulfilling his promise. "No, Brock," Sam said in a low voice. "We're not going to kill them. But they'll wish they were dead by the time I'm done with them. Take Merie to the Emergency Room. I'll handle this one." Brock pulled off his shirt and wrapped it around Merie. But instead of picking her up, he grabbed Leah by the hair. "What the fuck did you give her?" he yelled. "Tell me or even your Dad won't be able to stop what I'm going to do to you." "Heroin," Leah said with the fright evident even in her glassy eyes. "We shot her up. Just a taste. Not enough to hurt her." Brock looked back at Sam. It was all he could do to keep from battering the man's oldest daughter into submission. "You come near her again, ever, you're dead," Brock said in a cold voice. "I don't give a fuck if you are her sister. From this day on, you're dead if I see your face." Instead of punching Leah, Brock spat in her face and picked up Merie and raced back to his car. ------- Brock's fury still hadn't abated 30 minutes after he arrived at the hospital. The nurses treated him as if he were responsible for Merie's state and even when Jean arrived he paced the waiting room like a caged animal. Sam showed up about 30 minutes after his wife — covered in blood. "Where's Leah," Jean spat. "Where in the fuck is she?" "Jail," Sam said evenly. "I dragged her ass out of there and called the cops. They arrested her for kidnapping and assault." He looked at Brock whose face was still set in an emotionless mask. "I meant what I said, Sam," Brock said tonelessly. "It won't make a difference what happens to me. But you better make sure that piece of shit you raised knows I wasn't fucking around." Jean looked as if she might say something but thought the better of it. Sam just nodded. "Make sure they do a rape kit," Sam said with tears in his eyes. "Leah said they didn't get to that part. But we can't trust her. If they didn't, it was only because Brock found her so fast. Leah was using her to pay off a debt!" "She could have come to me," Jean said. "I would have given money. I've, I've done it before. We need to call a lawyer for her." Brock whipped out his cell phone and dialed Lynn's number. "You have any clients in Wexford who want to make some money?" he asked. Lynn didn't reply. "If you do, there's going to be a prisoner transported there in two or three days, Leah VanLandingham," Brock continued unabated. "I'll pay $5,000 for every bone they break. More if they permanently disfigure her. So long as they don't kill her, everything else is fair game. I don't care if she has to wear a colostomy bag for the rest of her fucking life. I don't care if they leave her brain dead with her head in a toilet. I want her hurt and I want her to know it was me that had it done." Jean gasped. "All the money in the world won't help her now," Brock said. "You need to stop being so concerned about Leah and focus on Merie. Get your head out of your ass, lady. She was going to let her friends rape and possibly kill Merie. And you want to help her. I don't care if she is your daughter. If I have my way, she'll never make it to trial." Sam had sat quietly during Brock's conversations with Lynn Collingwood and his wife. "Brock, think for a couple of minutes," he said. "I don't want you in any trouble because of Leah. She's done enough damage. You just used a cell phone to make that call in front of witnesses." "Is that all you're going to say?" Jean demanded. "He just put a hit out on our daughter." "Your daughter," Sam said. "She hasn't been my daughter in a long time. My daughter is in there, OD'ed on that shit your daughter forced on her. If you needed more proof that Leah is dead to me, you should know that all the expensive reconstructive surgery on her face will have to be redone at the state's expense. She had a couple of accidents on the way out of the rail car." Jean turned and stalked away. "Did you hurt them bad?" Brock asked. "Or do I need to get thrown in jail for the night?" Sam looked at him. "They're putting them back together in the ER," he said. "I heard one of the paramedics say the boy you hit will never walk without a limp again. He might even lose his leg below the knee." Brock nodded. "The other two are in about the same shape," Sam continued. "The best part is, they're all in severe pain but they're so fucked up on drugs that they won't treat them." "I really lost it, Sam," Brock said, looking at the ground. "I still don't have it back. When things happened in Wilkins, I didn't lose my temper. I remember everything as clear as day. Today, when I opened that door, I wanted to kill all of them. I would have, too. "Hell, when you grabbed my shoulder, I wanted to kill you." "I know, Brock," Sam said with his hand on the boy's shoulder. "I know." "Leah better pray she gets life," Brock continued. "She better pray that Merie's OK. She better pray that Merie gets over this and she better pray she never gets out of prison. Because I promise you, the day she does, I'll be waiting for her outside the gates and there's not a soul on earth that can help her then." Brock saw the big man beside him shudder. "This will be her third violent felony," Sam said. "Jean can spend the rest of the money we have and it won't help her. I'll bet she's 50 years old before she gets out there, if she doesn't get life." A doctor came around the corner accompanied by a police officer. "Mr. VanLandingham, I'll need you to come to the station and answer some questions," the office said. "Mr. Miller, I'll need you, too. I know part of what happened there. The doctor filled me in on parts of it and I've already spoken to Jean VanLandingham. She told me other parts. "Off the record, it's lucky you got there when you did. Meredith was in real danger. But we also have four people with rather severe injuries. We need you two to explain them." Sam started to rise but Brock put his hand on the man's arm. "We'll be down after we speak to Meredith," Brock said. "And after we have time to get our lawyers here." The policeman eyed the boy. "You don't need a lawyer, son," the officer stated. "It'll just be a few questions and answers. If you haven't done anything wrong, it won't take 30 minutes." Brock laughed. "The last time I heard that it didn't work out so well for me," Brock said. "If you think I'm giving a formal statement to the police without my attorney, you're crazy. Sam, I can't tell you what to do. But I recommend you contact an attorney and have him meet us there. I'm going to call Lynn back. "Officer, it will be five or six hours before my attorney can get here. She lives in Wilkins." The policeman's eyes grew wide with recognition. "You're that kid," he said. "Holy shit! Son, this isn't Wilkins. But if you want your attorney there, that's your right. If it'll make you feel better, we'll videotape the session. I don't foresee anything other than getting your side of the story. The evidence is pretty clear about what happened." The man patted Brock on the arm. "For what it's worth, what happened to you is a disgrace," he said. "Now every officer you meet will be seen the same light as those bastards. Why don't I make arrangements to meet you and Mr. VanLandingham tomorrow at a neutral sight, maybe your house? I'm off duty tomorrow but I'll leave you my number. When your attorney gets here, give me a call and I'll stop over." Brock nodded and some of the tension drained away. "She's awake," the doctor told Sam. "She's not alert yet, but she's awake." Sam smiled for the first time in hours. "I take it this young man is Brock," the doctor continued. "She's been mumbling about her Daddy and Brock for the last few minutes. It's supposed to be immediate family only, but I'll swear you're her brother or something if you want to go in." ------- Meredith was in the hospital for three days making for a somber New Year's Eve. Brock kissed a sleeping Merie softly at midnight before leaving the room. He had been her almost constant companion since her arrival, leaving only to shower, change clothes and eat. The rest of the crew paid periodic visits but Merie wasn't interested in seeing people for too long. It was late on New Year's Day when Meredith was released and that was the first night that Brock slept in his own bed in almost a week. The rumor mill was in full force when school started the next morning. Meredith had tried to commit suicide because Brock broke up with her, one story said. Another said Brock had gone crazy and tried to kill Meredith's sister leading to the suicide attempt. Jen and the dozen or so others who knew the story went about setting everyone straight but some of the stories took on a life of their own. The only news that brightened Brock's day was when he learned that three days after her transfer to Wexford Facility for Women Leah VanLandingham was sodomized with a broom handle in the infirmary. Lynn had refused to participate in Brock's plans so he'd found an unsavory attorney in one of the bigger cities to do the work. A part of Brock was sickened by what he'd done but another part of him felt it was completely justified. After all, she probably would have done that to Merie if she'd gotten the chance. Merie closed herself off from Brock again after the attack. She would talk to him on the phone for an hour one night then refuse to take his calls for the next two days. But she always refused his offers to visit her. Finally a week after she was released, she invited Brock to her house. "I'm sorry you got involved," she told him when he arrived. "It was so fucked up. She was going to ransom me back to Daddy. Then she said she was going to ransom me to you. Then she decided that she would just give me away." Brock was unsure of what to do. He wanted to hold Merie in his arms, to let her know that none of this was her fault. But he just stood there helplessly. "I don't know what happened after they dragged me to the car," Merie continued crying. "She shot me up, Brock. She fucking stabbed a nasty used fucking needle in my vein. I could have AIDS; I could have hepatitis; I could have all sorts of fucked up stuff. She was my sister, for God's sake. "I can't even kiss you until I get the blood work back. I could have a fucking staph infection. It's hard to tell who used that needle before she got her hands on it. "She was going to let them do whatever they wanted. She was using my body as currency. I wish you would have fucking killed her." "He would have," Sam said from behind her. "I stopped him. He was going to kill them all, honey." Merie turned on her father. "And you stopped him," she hissed. "She's going to come back. I know she is. And you'll just fucking open up the door and let her right back in. Because she's your precious daughter. "Well the next time you decide to let her in will be the last time I walk through that fucking door. You didn't even change the fucking alarm code when she ran off. How fucking stupid is that?! That's how she got in the house because my parents are too fucking stupid to change the alarm code that their fugitive daughter knows." Sam looked dumbfounded. "I never thought to do that," he said. "No you didn't," Merie said. "And because you didn't, one minute I was laying on my bed thinking about school and Valentine's Day and the Prom and the next minute I'm naked in the trunk of a car with an AIDS-infested needle in my arm." As tears began to form in Sam's eyes Merie turned and stomped up to her room. "I'm sorry," Sam whispered to her retreating back. ------- The next weeks were a replay of the first few after Merie's attack. She would spend hours talking to Brock then freeze him out for days at a time. He no longer visited the VanLandingham's. The stress level at their home was unfathomable. As January turned to February, Brock sensed a thaw in Merie's attitude toward him. She fixed a nice dinner for him on Valentine's Day and even gave him a kiss on the cheek when he left. It was the first affection she'd shown to anyone since her sister had kidnapped her. Just as he thought Merie might be turning a corner, she shut him out again. Brock was growing increasingly frustrated. He understood Merie's feelings. What had happened to her was a terrible event. But a part of him — the bigger part, he worried — wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake the crap out her. He needed her to understand that what she'd gone through, as awful as it was, was far from the worst thing she could have experienced. But he said nothing and let her deal with things in her own manner. It was a decision he would come to regret. In December, Meredith VanLandingham had entered Brock's life suddenly, bringing with her something that had been sorely missing from his life — laughter. Now less than three months later, just as abruptly she was gone. ------- Chapter 25 It was an overcast day in late February when Brock returned from baseball practice to find Sam's SUV parked in his driveway. Even from a distance Brock could see the huge man was racked with sobs. Brock didn't want to interrupt Sam's outpouring of emotion so he waited for him on the front porch. Presently Merie's dad joined him. "She's gone," he said as he handed Brock an envelope. Brock feared the worst. "You don't mean," he said, leaving his thought unfinished. "No," Sam said. "Not that. She just up and left. She wanted me to bring that to you." Brock unsealed the envelope with shaking hands and read what Merie had written. Brock (it read), I'm sorry but this is what I need to do. The last months have been terrible. Not just for me but for you, too. It hurts me to know that I'm causing you pain. I've told you about the nightmares but what I haven't told you is that they carry over into the day. I haven't slept for more than an hour at a time for two months. I'm too scared to leave the house but I'm terrified at being here, too. I can't live that way. I can't stop reliving that day. I finally understand how betrayed you felt when the people you cared about let you down. I want to apologize for trivializing your feelings about Susan and Tara. I finally understand your reluctance to have anything to do with them. Please note that I'm not apologizing for pushing you to forgive them. I still think I was right about that part. But I'm sorry for thinking your feelings were unjustified. Leah cleared that up for me. That's for sure. But just like you told me once, my feelings aren't necessarily rational but it doesn't change them. I feel betrayed by my sister. But I also feel betrayed by my parents for not stopping her. And sadly, my love, I feel betrayed by you too for not protecting me. But I know these thoughts aren't rational so I'm going away for a while to fix things. I need to be able to close my eyes without seeing that day. I need to be able to see you without reliving the last time you held me in your arms. I want you to know that I'm not deserting you. I swear I'm not. I don't know when but someday I'll find you, if only to give you a better explanation. As soon as I can be the person that I need to be for me and the person I need to be for you. I hope you'll give me time to find what I need and I hope you'll respect my need for privacy. It's not that I don't want to see you. I just can't put my life back together properly when all I want to do is get back to the girl you care about so much. Please know that the only reason I made it this far is because of you. I really, truly meant what I told you in the car on the way to the hospital. It was a horrible way to tell you that I love you for the first time. And this is a worse way still. But I do. Take care of Mom and Dad for me. I don't know how they'll react to this. But I finally understand just how strong you really are. You lived through so much worse. I promise to do my best to come through this too. I love you, Merie Brock read and re-read the letter as Sam sat across from him. Finally he shook his head. "Did she give you any idea of when she'll be back?" he asked Sam. But Sam shook his head sadly. "She checked herself into a hospital," Sam said. "Please don't ask which one. She asked in her letter for me not to tell you. But if you ask me, I probably will." Brock held up his hand. "You know Leah called me Christmas Eve," Brock said and Sam's eyes got wide. "She warned me to stay away from Merie. I'll tell you the same thing I told her. If Merie asks me to leave her alone, I will. She obviously has asked me to do that, so I won't put you in that situation. But if you talk to you, tell her I wish her the best and that I feel the same way she does." "She doesn't want to talk to me or her mother either," Sam said in a dejected tone. "She just completely closed herself off." It was exactly what Merie had done. ------- As the winter turned to spring, Brock focused his entire attention on schoolwork and baseball. Melanie was mad when he refused to rent her a room in his house but she got over it. She found an apartment behind the Wyatt's new house three blocks away. All four girls would find their way to Brock's house at least twice a week and Brock would find a way to be doing something else whenever they showed up. Merie was never far from his thoughts and he was glad the baseball team had a game almost every night. The shortstop from last season wasn't as benevolent as the quarterback in the fall had been when Brock took his position. The boy quit the team and the coach rebuffed Brock's offer to move to second base to replace the now-departed Wes Mansfield. Baseball was by far Brock's best sport but he found little joy in being on the diamond. In fact, he had found little joy in anything since shortly after Christmas. By May everyone but Mel, Jen, Susan and Tara had learned to leave Brock alone. He seemed to show no emotion at all which worried the hell out of everyone. Even Leslie had given him a wide berth. Mostly Brock just ignored the world and went about his business as efficiently and quietly as possible. Sam VanLandingham showed up frequently at Brock's games but very rarely stuck around to visit. The few times he did, the pair shared little outside of pleasantries. So Brock was surprised to find Sam sitting on his porch one evening in early June. "I'm worried about you," Sam said after a few innocuous comments. "You just seemed to have disappeared into yourself." Brock shrugged. "What do you want me to do, Sam?" he asked. "I'm just biding my time until I leave here. I'm thinking about moving to Montana this summer." "You just don't want to lose anyone else," Sam said suddenly. "So you won't let anyone near you. If no one gets close, you don't get hurt." "Something like that," Brock replied. "And instead you wind up hurting those people who care about you," Sam responded. "Just like Meredith did. She couldn't get past what happened. God knows it could have been so much worse but she didn't think about that. No, she focused on how bad it was and it ate her up. Then she quit. You're doing the same thing." "So?" Brock asked. "Look, Sam. I know you mean well. But even though Merie said in her letter that she wasn't deserting me, that's exactly what she did. I know she had her reasons. But that doesn't make it easier on me." "I came here to tell you where she is," Sam said but Brock shook his head quickly. "I know where she is, Sam," he told him. "I've know since a week or so after she left. In fact, I've written her about a hundred letters and torn every one of them up. Hell, she sent me two birthday card. She didn't sign it but I recognized her handwriting. Not to mention that she's one of about four people in the world who know when my birthday is. And the only one who knows when my real birthday is. "How's she doing?" Sam shrugged. "She still won't see us," he said. "I get an update every month from the psychologist but it's all mumbo-jumbo. The simple fact is the she checked herself in and she can check herself out when she's ready. But I sent a letter with this month's check. I asked the doctor to tell Merie what she's done to you. I told him to tell her what you've become." "I wish you hadn't done that," Brock said. "Why not?" Sam replied. "You saved her. She needs to realize that it's her turn to stand up and help you." "I don't need her help," Brock said. "And I don't want her help. Believe it or not I'm happier this way. This is how I wanted to live for the last year. I don't want strings. I don't want attachments. A year from now, when I start college, I'll make all the friends I want and do all the things you think I'm missing out on now. "But for now, it's just as well that Merie is gone." "Jean and I separated," Sam said, changing the subject. "Leah's trial is coming up and it just got to be too much. I'm living about a mile from here if you ever need me. I'll try to stop by from time to time. I miss having you around but at the same time being around you isn't as much fun anymore. Hell, nothing is as much fun as it was." Brock nodded his head slowly. "Let Merie know that I'm doing OK," he said. "If you get the chance to talk to her, that is. This has less to do with her than you think. And I don't want her to feel guilty about anything. I'll let you know what I decide about Montana. I'm planning to take a week and head up there as soon as school is out." "I'll miss you if you go," Sam said as he got up to leave. "But the truth is, I'll miss you even if you stay." ------- Jen was on her last required trip to Wyoming and she couldn't be happier that it was her last. She would be 18 before the next visit and she could put her foot down. She wouldn't miss spending time with the man who called himself her father and she damned sure wouldn't miss living in the middle of nowhere. Somehow she had convinced Melanie to spend another few weeks with her in the wild and convinced her father to allow her to come early so she could be back in Corbly before the first football game. It was different this summer than last. Jen was no longer infatuated with Brock Miller. Instead she was worried about him. When Merie left, Brock withdrew completely. He had managed to build a wall between himself and anyone who cared about him. Jen and Mel spend their lonely hours in Wyoming discussing the situation but neither could figure out how to bring Brock back to the person he was during those three short months when he seemed happy. Tara and Susan had a similar conversation with similar results in Corbly. Sam VanLandingham and Leslie Miller did the same with the same outcome. Even Tara's mother and Lynn Collingwood had made calls to Brock's friends to try to come up with a solution. Each worried that Brock would disappear one day without even telling them goodbye. ------- Chapter 26 Brock's trip to Montana didn't produce the results he desired, either. He visited a couple of small towns and looked at property on the outskirts — places he could live in relative anonymity. Even the thought of that didn't make him happier. In fact, a part of him dreaded the loss of companionship he had found in Corbly. The thought of losing anyone else close to him kept his mind whirling during his entire drive back. At one point, he pulled off the road to call Leslie with the express intention of finding out where Jen and Mel were situated and paying them a visit. But he demurred before hitting the send button. The past months had produced a multitude of emotion within Brock. But he finally settled on anger. He was angry at Merie for running away. He was angry at Jen for hurting him after he let her get close. He was angry at Leslie for butting into his life. He was angry at Tara for deserting him. He was angry at Susan for putting her happiness ahead of his safety. He was mad at Mel for trying to manipulate him into letting her live at his house. He was angry with the VanLandinghams for putting Merie into danger. And he was angry at himself for letting things get this far outside of his control. In short, he was angry at everyone. But the drive home was almost cathartic for him. He realized that he wasn't the center of the universe — as much as it seemed sometimes he was. No one was responsible for his happiness but him. Merie left because she couldn't live with the memory of her sister's attack, not because she couldn't live with Brock. Jen did what she did because of her need to belong, not because of anything Brock did. Leslie was into everyone's business, not just Brock's. Mel was trying to establish herself as an independent person and Brock was just a means to an end. Tara was 14 years old and she made a mistake. Susan was only 13 and she was scared to death. Neither of them could be faulted for putting their own interests ahead of Brock's. The VanLandinghams were devastated by Leah's escape and they didn't consider that she would attack her younger sister. Who would have? Hell, Brock was as suspicious as any person in the world and he didn't consider it. Brock finally decided if wanted to be treated like an adult he needed to act like one. He needed to stop sulking and start living. His anger had abated by the time he pulled into his driveway to see the familiar form of Leslie Miles sitting on his porch. ------- Leslie misread the smile on Brock's face. She instantly worried that he'd found what was looking for in the remoteness of Montana. She was startled when Brock gave her a warm embrace as soon as he came onto the porch. The past few months had brought out a darker side of Brock that she knew existed but hadn't seen before. The hug caught her off guard. "I trust you had a pleasant trip," she said sadly. "Actually, it was pretty crappy," Brock said. "Right up to the last few hours." Leslie looked at him with interest. "Come on inside," he said. "I'm going to fix a glass of iced tea and I'll tell you all about it. I almost called you this afternoon. I wish I would have now. Of course, it might not have worked out if I had." Leslie was intrigued. Brock's voice no longer held the toneless quality it had possessed since February. In fact, he seemed almost happy to see her. Well, at least he probably would wait to tell everyone goodbye now, she thought. They sat in the living room and Brock took a deep breath. "So, when are you moving?" Leslie asked unable to contain the question longer. Brock shook his head. "Oh, it looks like you're stuck with me for at least another year," he said and Leslie looked surprised. "You didn't like Montana?" she asked. "I thought by the way you bounced out of the car that you had already bought a place and were just coming home to pack." Brock smiled. It was the first genuine smile Leslie had seen on his face in months. "Montana was fine," he said. "In fact, it was no different than here. Well, a lot more mountains and cooler temperatures, but that's about all." Leslie looked at him questioningly. "That's the whole point," he said. "It was just like here. Except I would have no friends and no one I could visit with or talk to. There would be no neighbor who would watch for me to come home and no neighbor's mother who would make sure I didn't starve. "I realized that I would miss those things if I left." Leslie smiled back at Brock. "I'd even miss it if you stopped trying to make your agenda mine," he said with a laugh. "Not that I'm going to give in on your plans but I'd miss it if you stopped trying. "I had a lot of time to think on the way home. I don't like what I've become anymore than you guys do. I'm sorry for being such a bastard the last few months. I hope you know that none of you did anything to deserve the way I've treated you." Leslie realized that she would finally get to say what she had come over to say in the first place. "Please don't think I'm trying to interfere," she said. "I probably am, but I don't want you to think that." Brock chuckled at her attempt at humor. "I've been thinking a lot about you in the last few weeks," Leslie continued. "All of us have. A little while ago, I realized something, too. That's why I was sitting on your porch waiting for you. I want you to know that I didn't plan to try to talk you out of any decision you might have made but I wanted to make sure you knew something before you made a final decision. "They took so much more from you than even you realize, I think. They weren't content to steal your mother and two years of your life. They also stole your childhood. "You were 14 years old, Brock. From 14 to 16 is the time you learn so much about life. Some of them are small things: how to drive a car; how to tie a tie. Those you can pick up later if you need to. But some of them are huge things that you'll need for the rest of your life. "You grew up. That's for sure. You had to. But you missed so many of life's lessons. Your first loss was a crushing loss — your mother. I hate to say this, but you'll never get over losing your mother. It'll get easier but there will always be times that you miss her." Brock nodded. He was still waiting for it to get easier but he understood what Leslie was saying. "The second part of that lesson is dealing with loss. Most kids' first heartbreak is from a girlfriend or boyfriend. It's a fairly insignificant loss in the grand scheme of things and they learn to put it behind them and move on. "Because of what you lost, you never learned that. I think you believe that every loss you suffer will be exactly like the pain you feel at the loss of your mother. You didn't get to learn how to handle pain and disappointment and to watch them ease with time because life dealt you a type of pain that never goes away. "I'm not saying that Merie was insignificant. Please don't think that I am. I'm not saying that Jen was insignificant. They're not. But in the grand scheme of your life, they are less important than you're giving them credit for. "I want to tell you a story about my life. I doubt even Jen or Mel knows all of it, but I think you should because it might help you put things into perspective." Brock nodded his head but didn't speak. Leslie's words were racing through his head. "Frank and I met when I was 16 and he was 19," she said. "He was in college and I was a junior in high school. We got married shortly after I graduated and I was pregnant with Melanie midway through my freshman year of college. "We both were overjoyed. Frank had already been offered a job when he graduated. He was a stock analyst and a damned good one. I figured I could finish college in a few years if I finished at all. "Jen was born a couple of years after Melanie and my life seemed wonderful. I had two fantastic kids and wonderful husband. We had a gorgeous house with a landscaped lawn. I was living the dream. That lasted until 14 years ago. "I started back to college when Jennifer was in preschool. Melanie was in first grade. By that point and Frank was doing a lot of his work from home. I picked up Jen one afternoon and came home to find Mel crying on the front steps. She still had on her school clothes and still had her backpack. She told me the door was locked and that her Daddy hadn't picked her up from school so she'd walked home. "When I unlocked the door I was in for the shock of my life. The whole house was almost empty. Frank had left our clothes and the food in the cupboards. Everything else was gone — and so was Frank. He had also cleared out the bank account. He paid the mortgage for six months and prepaid most of the bills in advance. He left me $1,000 in an envelope with a note. "The note basically said that the kids and the house and the cars might have been my dream but they were never his. He was leaving to find his dream. Hell, I didn't even know he had a dream. I thought he was just as happy as I was. "Two years, Brock. It was two years before I heard from him again. I sold the house we used to live in and we moved to this one. I finished my accounting degree and got the job where I work now. Then one day a man shows up on my doorstep. He handed me some papers and told me that Frank had filed for divorce in Wyoming and he was seeking joint custody of the kids. "I had a laugh at that one. I told the man that was all well and good but that a divorce decree had already been entered in this state and unless Frank wanted to live his dream from inside a jail cell he better be coughing up some money. He was almost $25,000 behind in child support and arrears by that time. He also owed me about $15,000 in alimony. The judge held off on signing the property decree because by the time everything was sorted out he would only owe me about $2,000. As it was he was on the outside of the Deadbeat Dad laws. "That was the great societal plague at that time. It was just after the crusade to lower the legal limit of alcohol when driving and just before the Protect our Children from Predators craze that's consumed everyone now. Anyway, Frank was looking at serious jail time. The man wanted me to give him copies of everything but I told him that he could just give me Frank's address and I have him served when the constables came to arrest him." Brock was listening intently. "That's horrible what he did," he told her. "But I don't see how it relates to me." "That part doesn't," she continued. "That was just the background for this part. The next years of life were consumed by just one thing: hate. Frank was fucked — uh, sorry. He had no money. He made less in a year that what he owed in child support and all I had to do was say the word and he was put in jail. Every year for the next 10 years, he spent his birthday and girls' birthdays in jail. I would swear out a warrant a few days before and he would get 10 or 20 days behind bars. "I did this knowing it wouldn't help me get any money from him. I did it just for spite. Ten years, Brock. I did this for 10 years. This is the first year I didn't put him in jail. I think part of it is because of you. I guess you let me know that jail was a hell of a lot worse than what I thought it was. Frank is an asshole but even he doesn't deserve the things you've told me about. "But it's also time I let the hate go. I haven't ruined Frank's life. The girls tell me he is happy as hell living the life of a wrangler on some guy's ranch. Nope, I ruined my life. I don't date. I don't have friends. I love my girls — most of the time — but they are my whole life. In my attempt to make his life miserable, I made my own miserable. "I let other people decide if I was going to be happy. You're doing the same, whether you realize it or not." Brock smiled and nodded his head fiercely. "That is exactly what I realized in the car!" he said. "No one purposefully set out to hurt me. Well, except for the people who have already paid the price. To everyone else, anything that happened to me was ancillary to their looking for happiness. Even Tara. She was 14 years old and her world was turned upside down, too. Not like mine was, I'll grant you, but in her limited scope, it was just as bad. Look at how I reacted to Merie. She went to a loony bin for God's sake. She didn't run off with the French Foreign Legion. She didn't die in a car crash. Someday, she'll be back — probably not as my girlfriend, I'd wager — but she'll be back. "Somehow I convinced myself that everyone's actions are a reflection on their feelings toward me. They're not. I'm not usually so self-centered but for some reason, about these things, I am." "So, you're staying?" Leslie asked and Brock nodded. "Good! Sam told me he would miss you like crazy if you left. I want you to know that I would have, too. You're like the kid I never wanted." Brock chuckled. "Next time your girls call, have her call me — collect," he said. "I want to apologize to them. I almost called you to get directions today. For some reason, I just missed them." Leslie smiled back at Brock. "I'm flying over there in two weekends," she said. "I decided this week to forgive all past child support. I got the paperwork finished yesterday and I'm going to give it to Frank in person. I want to apologize to him, too. You can come with me, if you like. I know the girls will be tickled to see you." Brock shook his head. "I don't think you owe him an apology," he said. "It comes back to consequences. He tried to leave you with nothing. His sole goal in taking the money and the furniture was to hurt you. If you want my opinion — and I'm going to give it to you either way — you might tell him that you consider yourself even. But I wouldn't be too sorry about the way you treated him. If he had been half a human being when he left, he wouldn't have given you cause for the actions you took. And I, for one, think you were entirely justified. Don't forget, I was raised by a single mother, too. Even now, I think about the things she did without so I could have something. I know that Mel and Jen will realize this someday, too. And if they don't, I'll point it out to them." Leslie was amazed. "Half the time, I think you're a 30 year old man trapped in a teenager," she said. "Half the time, I think you're a 12 year old trapped in an adult world. I don't say that to be mean. But you have to admit you've acted childish the past few months. But what you just told me is very adult in its logic and sentiment." Brock shrugged. "Just don't let me alienate my friends for half a year the next time I've missed a lesson," he said with a smile. ------- Chapter 27 The girls were, indeed, tickled to see Brock and their mother. Frank was less pleased — at least until he got the paperwork forgiving all his past debts. Then he was happier to see Leslie. He wasn't sure about Brock and he was less so when both Jen and Mel gave him a warm kiss and a hug. He had heard all about this boy's trials and travails over the few weeks that the kids had been visiting. He wasn't sure he liked the thought of this guy being too close to his family. The month that Frank spent in jail every year had given him an idea of what that life was like. He couldn't imagine prison — which some of the other convicts had told him was 10 times worse than jail. And he couldn't imagine spending almost two years in a place like that. To be 15 years old when you did had to leave some permanent mental scars. Frank vowed to warn Brock away from his ex-wife and his kids before his visit to Wyoming was over. ------- "I think it's best if you stay away from my daughters," he said a day later. Brock did a double take. "You folks from Corbly sure have an uncanny sense of irony," Brock replied. "What the hell does that mean?" Frank asked. "It's almost comical to hear you say that," Brock said. "Because it's almost word for word what your daughters say about you." Frank looked at Brock stonefaced. "I can offer you some encouragement, if I need to," Frank said as he cracked his knuckles. Brock laughed out loud. "Oh, you're serious," he said when his laughter subsided. "I've whipped bigger men than you," Frank said with a glare. Brock nodded. "Bigger maybe," he said. "But I doubt you've fucked with anyone meaner. I've made far tougher men than you piss themselves in the corner because they knew they would have to go through me to the toilet. Hell, I'm so tough you're ex-wife doesn't even scare me. And believe me, she's a pit bull compared to your terrier." Frank stepped closer to the much taller Brock. "There won't be a club around here to help you, tough guy," Frank said. Brock laughed again. "See, that's what happens when you get all your information from the internet," he said. "The boy with the club was only paralyzed. The one I killed was hand-to-hand combat. And if anything, prison made me a little better at it than I was before. "Look, pal, you lost most of your right to make decisions for your daughters when you snuck out of the house like a thief in the night 15 years ago. You left your family almost penniless so you could do what you wanted. I know what kind of man does that and it isn't the type man who frightens me. So put your dick back in pants before you find yourself in a situation you don't want to be in. It would be awful tough to live your dream when you can't walk any longer." Frank took a quick step back but continued to glare. "Oh, yeah, I know all about the way you left. By the way, in case you haven't noticed, your daughters are adults — or at least Mel is and Jen will be in a few months," Brock continued. "Do you really think you'll ever see them again when they aren't forced to be here? If you do, you might think again." Frank took a step back but stared at Brock. "Mel comes back because she wants to," he said forcefully. "She hasn't had to come here for two years." Brock smiled and shook his head. "Mel comes here because she's worried that Jen will run away the first day she's here and create a whole mess of legal problems for their Mom," Brock said. "You take a real hard look at them when they board the plane because it'll be years before you see them again. In fact, call Jen over here and ask her if she's coming back. Or better yet, offer to let her leave now if she wants to. Her bags will be packed and she'll be waiting in the car before you can blink. Don't kid yourself. You can't whip me and you can't decide on your daughter's friends. "Now if you're done making a fool out of yourself, I want to spend some time with some people I've missed over the past few months." ------- Frank made the mistake of offering to let Jen go home with her mother and just as Brock predicted the girl was packed and ready to leave within 20 minutes. "I'll see you next summer," Frank told her as she was preparing to leave. "I don't think so," Jen replied. "Today is the last time you'll see me at this piece of shit you call home. Send me a letter sometime and maybe you can visit me. But I won't be back next summer." Frank looked at Brock with hatred in his eyes. Brock shrugged. "I know your daughters better than you do, Frank," he said. "It's a shame, isn't it?" Brock sat quietly on the ride to the airport, just listening to the conversation the Miles family conducted. "See you next summer, my ass," Mel said. "See you in hell maybe." Leslie glanced at Brock for support but shook his head. "You really shouldn't be angry with your dad," Leslie started. "I didn't mean to pass my hatred on to you girls." Mel cut her off an instant before Jen could. "He drags us out here to do what he wants to do," Mel said. "We do the stuff he likes every summer. He never asks what we want to do. He never takes our opinions into consideration. This has nothing to do with you or how you feel about him." Jen said the same thing. "I've hated it here since I've been forced to come," she said. "If I had the choice at 16 I'd have made the same one. If I could stopped at 13 I would have. I've never planned to visit that man after this summer. And like Mel said, it isn't because of you. It's because of him." Leslie glanced at Brock again. "What did he say to you this morning?" she asked. "He looked mad but you were laughing." Brock considered his options and finally decided to tell them. "He warned me to stay away from Jen and Mel," Brock said. "And he tried to threaten me when I said it was their decision to make, not his." Jen sat up like a shot. "Turn the car around," she yelled. "I have some things to say to that son of a bitch." Brock turned and patted her arm. "There's nothing for you to tell him that I didn't," he said. "I told him I wasn't even scared of your Mom and she's far tougher than he is." Leslie laughed but Brock could see his assessment of her tenacity pleased her. "I told him he lost his right to make decisions for you 15 years ago," Brock continued. "And that you both were adults and could decide on your friendships by yourself." Mel touched Brock's shoulder. "That's not all, is it?" she asked. "I saw him get in your face." Leslie turned to Brock. "When was that?" she said. "I might have to turn the car around after all. Who in the fuck does he think he is?" Brock sighed. "He mentioned that he had whipped bigger man than me," Brock said with a smile. "I filled him in on a couple unknown facts about my 18 months and he seemed to rethink his position." "Well..." Leslie said. "Do tell." Brock shook his head but the Miles family was relentless. "It isn't something I'm proud of," Brock said. "Remember Leslie, I told you about my first cellie?" Leslie nodded but Jen and Mel said they hadn't heard that story. "My first cellie tried to get affectionate the first night I was in max security," Brock said looking straight ahead. "I half expected it and had a couple of bars of soap inside a sock. I smacked him in the face and broke his jaw. When he got out of the infirmary the first thing I did was choke him unconscious. Then I made him stand in the corner. I wouldn't let him out to use the toilet even. This was a guy who had killed three or four people and I made him piss his pants in the corner because he knew if he stepped out of it I would hurt him worse than before. "He transferred cells a couple of days later. A day after that, a guy stabbed me in the back while I showered. He got the same treatment my first cellie did and after that I was in solitary confinement for the rest of my stay. It was safer for everyone." Jen's eyes got wide. "Holy crap!" she said. Mel immediately jumped into the fray. "He did what he needed to," she said quickly. "He had to do that to survive. Jen, imagine if you found yourself in that situation. Imagine that Wes Mansfield hadn't waited until you got home. Or that Brock wasn't there. What would you have done? He might not have killed you but he would have hurt you, I'm sure." Jen sat back in her seat with her head bowed. "Mel," Brock said forcefully. "That's enough. The situations were entirely different. The only permanent damage I caused was two or three missing teeth. I had to establish a reputation as someone you didn't mess with. I was only 15 years old. Most thought of me as easy pickins. I had to make sure they knew differently and the only way to earn respect in a violent place is by using violence." Leslie put her hand over Brock's. "You've never seen Brock react that way around us," she said. "Or around anyone else, for that matter. We've all seen him angry but he's never been violent. That should tell you of his true nature." Brock shook his head. "I'm not sure what's my true nature," he said. "Maybe Jen's right. I know that night at the rail yard, I planned to kill them all. They say the first time is the hardest. I would have had no problem with doing it." Leslie nodded. "And if you had to forcibly stop Wes you would have," she said. "We know that. But that's not the point. You seem to have an understanding about your temper. You know when it's appropriate to let it show. I'm sure you planned to kill those assholes. But I'm not sure you would have. If you needed to do it to protect Meredith or yourself, you might have. But I just don't see you doing that on purpose unless you had to." "Me, either," Jen said quickly. "I really didn't mean it that way, Brock. I think of you as a sweet guy who is loving and gentle. It just sort of shocks me when I hear about that other stuff. I just can't place it with the you I know." "It's OK, Jen," Brock replied. "There are parts of your personality that seem foreign, too. I mean, you seem so wholesome and sweet. Who would have thought that you were such a sex-crazed pervert?" Jen blushed but everyone else burst out laughing. Whatever tension that existed in the car seemed to fade away and the tone of the remainder of the trip — the remainder of the summer, really — had been set. ------- The highlight of Brock's summer — aside from his highway epiphany — was the week he spent playing in a wooden bat league usually reserved for college and top high school baseball players. He was a late addition to a team from 50 miles away — and he was invited only because the starting shortstop had a week long commitment out of the area. But he had an amazing time and opened a few eyes among collegiate scouts and teammates. Brock managed to bat almost .400 and he played flawlessly in the field. His teammates — and a few of the coaches — were more enamored by the bevy of girls who showed up at three of the 10 games in which Brock played. Whether it was his performance or the improvement in the scenery, Brock was invited to stay for the last week of the season but he declined. He'd promised to spend a week fishing with Sam VanLandingham before the start of football camp. And some promises were just too important to break. ------- Chapter 28 The only contention that arose was during the first week of July when Brock sat down with Jen, Tara, Susan and Melanie to discuss college plans. Brock really didn't need to discuss much. He had already selected his college of choice and had received conditional admittance. He hadn't told anyone of his choice for the simple reason that he knew there would be hell to pay when the girls found out. He was right. "You're going to college 3,000 miles away?" Susan exclaimed. "Even if the rest of us could get in there's no way we could afford it. Even though all three of us have pretty high GPAs, I doubt all three of us would be admitted." The other three girls just stared at Brock and fumed. "When did you plan to let us know?" Mel asked. "When you were packing up the U-Haul?" "I've wanted to go to school there since I was a little kid," Brock said. "Don't ask me why because I can't tell you. I sent an application in March and I was conditionally accepted last month." "They do have a pretty terrible football team," Tara said. "I think they lost like 33 games in a row. Did you get a scholarship?" Brock shook his head. "I don't plan to play football there," he replied. "I might try to walk on my sophomore year. But I mostly want to focus on studies and play baseball." Finally Jen asked the question everyone wanted the answer to. "What about us? You know we all planned to go to school together." Brock sighed deeply. "I do know that," he said. "But it doesn't mean we'll be able to." Susan snickered. "Why not Stanford? They're as good academically as Duke," she said. "The rest of us could go to Cal-Berkeley or San Jose State if we didn't get into Stanford." "You're missing the point," Brock said defensively. "I want to leave here. I've wanted to leave this state for the last year. If it weren't for the four of you sitting at this table, I'd already be gone. If you don't get into Duke, you can go to N.C. State or UNC. They're all close. If you want a smaller school like Branson, you can go to any number of smaller colleges in that area. "But I truly want to go where the likelihood of anyone knowing my name is minimal. Besides, what do any of you have to keep you nearby? Jen and Mel's Mom will move close by and so will Tara's. None of you have boyfriends that I know of. But this is one of those things I need to do. I need a change of scenery and place to finally put Jordan DeVoe to rest." The girls looked at one another. "Let's see what the Moms say," Jen said and she and Mel headed next door. Tara raced down the block to speak to her mother. That left Susan and Brock. "I'm glad I have a minute with you alone," Brock said and Susan wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "I've been thinking of offering a deal to your parents," Brock continued. Susan eyed him keenly. "I'm going to offer to drop the civil suit if they agree to donate any money they received from Tom Anderson to a scholarship fund I've created," he said. "It'll give them a place to live when they get out of prison." Susan's eyes narrowed. "What do you get out of this?" she asked. Brock had been adamant about getting a pound of flesh from anyone involved in his incarceration. "The only other stipulation is that they sever their parental rights to you," he said. "I wanted to discuss this with you before I offered it, obviously. If you don't want them to be able to do that, I won't even suggest it. But that will allow you to make your relationship with the Miles family more permanent if you would like or it will allow you to rejoin the Walsh family if you would rather do that." Susan continued to look at Brock. "Again, I'll ask: What do you get out of this?" she said. "I was hoping I'd get a smile from you and maybe one from your new sisters and maybe even one from your best friend who'll know you won't be leaving again," he said with a grin. "I think that would be enough for me — to know that you all were happy." Susan was on Brock's lap in a flash and her mouth was pressed firmly against his instantly. She kissed him warmly, then passionately, with her tongue tracing first his lips then the inside of his mouth when he opened to allow her entrance. It was the scene that greeted the Miles family and the Wyatt family when they entered Brock's living room. "How about a few hundred of those and the smiles you were looking for," Susan said breathlessly when she pulled away. "Would that be enough for you?" Brock gulped. "Wow!" he said, unaware of the audience. "I think that would be more than enough." "Ahem," came Leslie's voice from the doorway. "Enough payment for what?" Susan was still perched on Brock's lap and looked as if she had no intention of moving. "For what we discussed last weekend," Susan said. "Brock is going to offer to drop the civil suit against my parents if they let me go completely." Leslie looked hard at Brock. "This is a change of heart," she said with a raised eyebrow. "It is," Brock said. "There are other stipulations. They have to donate a sum of money equal to what Tom Anderson paid them to a scholarship fund. They have to completely sever their legal relationship with Susan." "Tell them the rest," Susan said and Brock looked her questioningly. "Tara, Jen and Mel owe Brock something," she said with a sly smile. The three girls in question blushed. "Smiles," Brock said quickly. "I said it would be payment enough for me to see smiles on the faces of Susan's new sisters and her best friend. That's all. Uh, the other part Susan just threw in." Jen snapped her fingers. "Hey, no one said we each couldn't cut our own deal," Susan said. "The smile was just his requirement. I offered him a few hundred kisses, too." "What's this about colleges in North Carolina?" Erin Wyatt asked to change the subject. "I don't think Tara needs to be that far away from home." Tara turned to her mother defiantly and Brock saw the saw determined looks on the faces of Jen and Melanie. "I told everyone I've selected where I'm going to college," Brock said. "My choice might have disrupted the plans these four had." "Mother, you should know that I'm planning to research the graduate programs at Duke, UNC and North Carolina State," Melanie said. "I'm on pace to graduate next summer and I plan to look at law schools that are not so close to home." Leslie nodded. She had anticipated that Melanie would want to leave the nest. After all, she would be 20 and a college graduate by then. She turned her gaze to Jen. "I think I'd like to look at what those schools have to offer, too," Jen said quietly. "But I know money will be an issue. I'm pretty sure I'll qualify for a couple of scholarships but the in-state and out-of-state tuition might be a real problem so we'll sit down and discuss it before I get too far along." Leslie smiled. "That's a very adult decision, Jen," she said as she put her arm around her daughter. "But don't you think a visit to the campus should precede any real choice? I think it's OK to send out your applications. All of you did exceptionally well on the ACTs. Maybe we can plan a trip east over Christmas Break if you're still interested. Who knows? Brock might get a football scholarship to USC." Brock chuckled. "So far, I've been offered a scholarship from two schools: Langley and Branson. Oh, wait, Eastern Washington has offered me a preferred walk-on slot. So I wouldn't hold my breath waiting for me to be offered the starting job at Notre Dame." Brock thought for a moment and decided the time was right. "I've spoken to Lynn Collingwood," he began. "The money from Lewis County and from Wilkins is in trust. Lynn is the administrator, for now. Tom Anderson's civil judgment is due by October 31st or he is in default. I've already received the majority of what I can get from the others. "I've set aside 10 percent of the Anderson settlement to help defray college costs for the people in this room. That includes you, Leslie, and you, Mrs. Wyatt, if you want to return to school." Brock held up his had to delay the protests he was sure were coming. "It can be straight scholarships," he continued. "Lynn has set up criteria for awarding scholarships. I had nothing to do with it. It can be a low-, as in no-, interest loan if you insist or it can be my gift to each of you for putting up with me when I was a total butthole. "Folks, honestly, by the time everything is said and done, even with Lynn's fees, I'll have more money than even Melanie could spend." Everyone in the room, except Mel, smiled at Brock's joke. "I'm talking almost $100 million," Brock continued. "That's before it's invested and starts earning money on its own. Lynn has already started a scholarship in each of your names to help offset my cumbersome tax debt. The Leslie Miles Scholarship will assist single mothers returning to school; the Jennifer Miles Scholarship will go to a deserving female who wants to study science or mathematics; the Melanie Miles Scholarship will go to a student who wants to pursue journalism or pre-law; the Susan Simpson Scholarship — and the name is subject to change — will be used for a high school student who wishes to study abroad for a year; the Tara Wyatt Scholarship will go to a student who wants to study the performing arts; the Erin Wyatt Scholarship will be used to assist a student who wants to study education and the Marjorie DeVoe Memorial Scholarship will assist low-income students. "I figured the VanLandinghams have enough money they can name scholarships after themselves. The trust I've established will put $1 million per year into the general fund. Each student selected will receive a four-year scholarship so long as they maintain a B average. There are certain stipulations with each — for example, the recipient of Leslie's scholarship does not need to maintain a full-time standing but the others do and Susan's covers only 10 months. If I'm using your names to help others there is absolutely no reason I shouldn't help each of you when I most certainly am able." The entire room was silent until Susan spun around on Brock's lap and planted another four-alarm kiss on him. "I can't speak for the rest but I'd be willing to discuss having you help fund my education," Tara interrupted. "I'm sure I'll qualify for grants and loans but if you're willing to help out, I'd be interested in listening." "Tara!" Erin Wyatt started but he daughter shook her head. "Mom, it's a fact of life," Tara said. "College is expensive. I know my college fund was raided when Daddy left. I also know there hasn't been much to put in there since." Erin shook her head sadly. "But we'll figure out a way," Erin said. "We just did," Tara replied forcefully. ------- As summer waned and the beginning of school neared Brock found his thoughts less and less turning to Merie. But every time he would manage to go a day or two without thinking about her invariably a card would arrive at his house. The cards were always unsigned and there was never a message in them. But Brock knew who they were from anyway. Brock had expected to see Merie during Leah's trial but her sister unexpected took a guilty plea even though it was her third strike. The judge sentenced her to 20 years to life in prison. It didn't make Brock feel any better about the situation. As the football season got under way, Brock's time was occupied. Tara had made the cheerleading squad and Susan, Jen and Mel were trying to get ahead of their classes. One by one the girls received acceptance letters to either Duke or a school nearby and the families were making plans to visit North Carolina between Christmas and New Year's. Corbly had another very good football season but it ended a week earlier than the season before had. The Conquistadors were bounced out of the first round of the playoffs by the eventual state champion. The end of the game was bittersweet for Brock. He realized it was perhaps the last time he would ever play an organized game of football in his life but he was looking forward to having a little free time before baseball season. ------- Of course, Brock's free time was minimized considerably by his friends and neighbors — each group was comprised of the same people. The anniversary of Susan's attack came and went without a mention — or really even a thought. Brock was surprised when Dec. 1st rolled around and he hadn't spent the previous few days pondering what might have been. The same wasn't true of the day after Christmas. Brock sat down as he had on numerous other occasions and wrote a long letter to Meredith. She had sent him a Christmas card, still unsigned, but she had written that she was wishing him well. But, like the other dozen letters he had written, he didn't send this one to Merie, either. He was getting better, though. He got as far as addressing the envelope before he stuck the whole thing into a shoebox beneath his bed. Despite overtures from each of the young women in his life, Brock kept away from dating anyone exclusively. He was always happy to escort one or more of the quartet wherever they wanted to go, but he shied away from exclusivity. Susan had made the most obvious push for his affection and Brock had gone to great pains to ensure he hadn't hurt her feelings when he rebuffed her. Jen and Mel seemed to accept his decision as it was meant: not as a message about how he felt about any of the young women, but more as a message about how he felt about himself (and about Merie). But as the New Year dawned and Jen, Mel, Susan and Tara returned from North Carolina filled with a mixture of excitement and trepidation, Brock realized that his life wasn't going to change much when he graduated high school. The location would be different, but the players would be the same. ------- The End ------- Posted: 2008-07-29 Last Modified: 2008-12-17 / 10:51:22 am ------- http://storiesonline.net/ -------