Matthew Wayne Selznick

Previously: At Preston VanHart’s party, Lina Porter faces her older boyfriend in order to break up with him… and finds herself in a distressing situation. Crystal Dubois discovers Preston in the bathroom, not alone. When she retreats in anger to a back bedroom of the house, Crystal discovers it’s already occupied. Meanwhile, Alex Kent and Heather Leighton consummate their new relationship, but the end result catches Alex by surprise…

“The Party, Part Three”

Lena was mostly passed out. Her legs hung over the edge of the bed. Her head lolled. Her lids were not quite closed over eyes that rolled in their sockets.

Eric stood over her and smiled. The pill had done its work, no problem. He knew she was a lightweight. Now it was time to close the deal.

He pulled her legs apart and pushed up her skirt, exposing white panties. His breath quickened and he started to sweat. There was so much going on that was so fucking perfect about this. Virgin. Under age. Totally helpless. This was one hell of an experience, all right. Fuck yeah.

He undid his belt and let his loose chinos drop to his ankles. His cock was painfully hard against his boxer shorts.

Too fucking perfect.

Eric reached between Lina’s legs and got his hand on the waistband of her panties. She didn’t even moan.

Four things happened next; none of them expected; none of them good.

The bedroom door opened.

Eric heard Crystal DuBois screech, “What the fuck?”

Eric started to turn around, but he had to shuffle since his pants were down around his ankles.

Crystal’s Doc Martens combat boot slammed fast and hard into Eric’s unprotected testicles.

Later, Crystal would remember opening the door. She would remember nailing mother-fucking Eric Finn dead center. And she would remember Preston grabbing her shoulders and pulling her back.

She had no memory of Eric Finn doubling over and tripping on his pants, or his hitting the floor at her feet, but he must have, because Preston later told her she’d been kicking the bastard in the head and ribs repeatedly before he yanked her away.

She was pissed at Preston; he and Eric Finn were All Men, just then. She twisted and hollered, but her blind rage subsided as quickly as she broke free. Hot fury gave way to iron determination.

No more girls were getting hurt tonight. Not like this.

Crystal turned and put herself between Preston and the bed. She noticed Eric Finn scrambling across the room and pulling up his pants, but her instincts held her at her post. Everything was protect the girl. Her mother had done it for her often enough, and damn if Crystal hadn’t done it for her mother the one, last time it really mattered. Now, it was time to protect this one. Protect the girl.

Preston looked confused and scared. Of the situation, or of her? Better be both, if he was smart. She looked over his shoulder toward the door. Fucker Eric Finn slipped past Brad Kruger, who had appeared in the doorway with Crystal’s hat askew on his curly-haired head. She found Brad’s eyes.

“Do you know who Carson Meunetti is?”

“I — yeah, I think…”

“Go get him. Go! And close the fucking door!”

Brad nodded, eyes wide. He whirled and slammed the door behind him.

Crystal glanced at Preston. “No one comes in but Carson.” She didn’t wait for his response before gently closing the girl’s legs. Her name was Lina. Lina Porter. That was it. Crystal crouched down next to her head.

Lina was still unconscious, snoring slightly. Crystal turned her head to one side so the girl wouldn’t choke on her own spit.

Brad found Carson in the back yard. “Dude, you’re Carson?”

“Yeah — Brad, right..?”

“Yeah. Come right now.” He held a hand in front of Carson’s old junior high school buddy, Jim. “Just you.”

Brad turned and took long, urgent strides back toward the house. Carson followed him. Something about the guy’s tone… it triggered primate instincts of alarm. Something was way wrong.

Brad opened Preston’s mom’s bedroom door and jerked his head toward the room. Carson wordlessly slipped past him. Brad closed the door, staying in the hall. Standing guard?

Carson saw Preston, saw Crystal… and then saw Lina. He was at the door, then he was on his knees next to the bed and at her side. No time, no distance, no steps between. Crystal made room.

“What…?”

Crystal’s voice was hard. “I think she was drugged. And would have been raped.”

Car looked at Crystal. She looked back at him. Over the years to come, Crystal would do a lot of stuff Car couldn’t condone. Even so, he would never deny her some compassion and the benefit of the doubt because of how she looked at him that night, and what she had done to save his best friend. He nodded to her, a wordless thanks.

“Was it…”

“Yep.”

Carson closed his eyes and swallowed. For a moment, he wanted to cry. That passed quickly into wanting to kill, and that was something new, something he’d never really felt before and never really understood, never really thought of as more than a movie cliché, but there it was: Carson wanted to see Eric Finn dead, and he wanted to do it, wanted to take Eric Finn’s breath, stop his heart, and do it with his bare hands.

It was too intense to last. All that mattered was that Lina was, if not okay, at least spared from what could have been.

He sighed heavily.

“I gotta get her out of here.”

Crystal nodded sharply and stood up. “Party’s over,” she said to Preston. “Get everybody out.”

Carson heard the door open and close. He kept his eyes on Lina.

“My parents are out of town,” he said. “I’ll take her back to my place. Make sure she’s… make sure she sleeps it off.”

Crystal didn’t answer right away. She saw the expression of love and worry and good solid caring on Carson’s face and bit her lip. They weren’t all Eric Finn. They weren’t all her god damn dad. They weren’t even all Preston.

“She’ll be all right,” she said.

Heather, soundly sleeping, breathed softly next to Alex. She lay on her side, facing him. The back of her hand just barely touched his forearm and moved slightly now and then as, he assumed, she dreamed.

Alex lay on his back and stared into the darkness. Sleep wasn’t happening; not for him.

He sighed. He was with the wrong girl.

Heather was the wrong girl.

Damn it.

He’d mistaken their unusual, emotionally intimate first meeting for something different, something… true. Man, he’d wanted it to be that. He really, really wanted something true. He really wanted to know what that was like; if it was even real.

He’d never experienced anything like the night at Grant’s, when he and Heather bared their souls while Grant and his girlfriend did their thing in the other room. It had seemed like something rare, remarkable.

Now, even laying in her bed after making love, Alex realized that while he and Heather had shared a lot of facts about each other, they didn’t really know each other. Not really.

It was the sex that drove that point home, for him, at least. Alex had only ever been with Eve, but he knew enough to understand that the first time with someone wasn’t necessarily indicative of how good it might get, with time. That was fine; Alex got that. The problem was that all the emotional intensity with Heather on Monday night was just flat out missing in action when they slept together.

Maybe that was his fault. Maybe he had expected too much; built the whole thing up to be more than it was; more than it could be, yet.

He sighed again. Heather stirred and mumbled in her sleep.

Alex hadn’t asked for the fantasy vision of Angel to pop into his head. He hadn’t known it would happen, and hadn’t expected it to push him into coming.

But it did.

Of course Alex had imagined Angel… that way… before. Even before Monday, when he’d started the first day of summer with a strong, confusing and utterly compelling urge to see her and she’d started to happen for him, it was only natural he’d envisioned her very female attributes now and then when he’d masturbated. But that had been… well, that was just convenient objectification.

The problem, or discovery, or… complication… was that when she’d popped into his head while he was having sex with Heather, it wasn’t exactly the thought of her body beneath him that did it.

It was the recognition that being on top of Angel was where he really wanted to be.

Alex grinned a little shamefully in the darkness. It was pretty crass, thinking of it that way, but the point was that he wanted to be with Angel. He had to know if their deep friendship, their multi-layered knowledge of and care for each other, would translate into something more.

He needed to know right now.

But how? Heather had driven them here. Damn.

It didn’t matter. He didn’t feel right, being here, and the urge to see Angel, to talk to her, to tell her… well, he’d figure that part out when he got there, but he needed to get there. He’d go find a phone – he remembered seeing a convenience store on the corner down the street from Heather’s place – and call a cab.

Very slowly and with great care, Alex slipped out from under the sheet and out of bed. His eyes were dark-adapted, but it was still a challenge to find all his clothing. Crawling on his hands and knees around the bed, he managed to find his shirt and socks. He buttoned his shirt and started to pull on the first sock, but he lost his balance and sat down heavily on the edge of the bed.

Heather woke up.

“Alex..?”

“It’s okay,” he whispered.

“Whuddayuhdoon..?”

Her sleep-fuzzed voice was endearing. Alex felt a pang of guilt. “I can’t sleep. It’s okay.”

She turned on the nightstand lamp and squinted at him. She held the blankets tight at her neck.

Alex was very aware that he was naked between his waist and shins. He grinned sheepishly. He spotted his underwear and scooped them up.

Heather frowned. “Where are you going..?”

“I’m sorry… I just can’t sleep.”

She shrugged. Alex saw her smile quiver slightly. “We don’t have to sleep. I don’t have to sleep. We can do whatever. Watch TV…”

Alex’s heart clenched. “I — I was just gonna head home.”

She turned her head. “Oh.” She frowned. “Um… how?”

He found his pants and pulled them up. A quick pat of the pockets assured him that his keys and wallet hadn’t fallen out.

“I… uh… I was going to call a cab,” he said. “I didn’t want to wake you. It’s really okay.” He smiled and hoped it didn’t look like mercy. “You sleep.”

Her smile came back, stronger. “It’s a crappy bed. I’ve been meaning to buy a bigger one. Now I have a reason.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he laughed quickly and bent to kiss her. She made that a little more of a production than he had wanted. He didn’t resist, but he was the one to break away first.

“Just hang on,” she said. “I’ll take you home.”

“I don’t –”

“Alex, please let me take you home. I’d feel stupid if you took a cab.” She looked uncertain again. “Did you have fun tonight? Did you… was it…”

“I had a great night.”

…to be continued!

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