The Memoirs

Mochachino with extra foam and cinnamon. Mochachino with extra foam and cinnamon. She could remember this. She could. Really!

Except Emily...was not known for her memory.

Her little blue 1984 Honda civic was sitting outside, and she fingered her keys, swallowing hard. A hundred ringlets fell from her head, in that soft, mousy shade of brown that was both pleasing and homey. She chewed on one soft lower lip as she shifted from foot to foot. Covered in paint, from her small breasts to her ugly sandals at the bottom of her eccentric skirt.

She was an artist. She could do stuff like this.

Mochachino with extra foam.

Dogwood scared her to death. She'd been painting since she was a little girl, and had followed Dogwood Ross's work since she was even smaller than that, and meeting him to work on this, for a week, was...a dream come true. She'd been picked from hundreds of students at the Metropolis School of Art to help him paint these buildings, and she had been just...thrilled.

Of course, until she met him.

Definitely scary. Definitely. Mochachino with extra foam and... cinnamon! Yes, thats it. Cinnamon. He had sent her for coffee cause she just could not get on that pulley again. Not after she'd dropped paint on Dominic Senatori's HEAD!. Oh man, and she was just mortified, and her cheeks pinked as she shifted to her other foot, skirt swaying around her legs and itching just the smallest bit as she wrapped her sweatered arms around herself and tapped a foot. Wooo boy.

OH MY GOD! WHAT WAS SHE HERE FOR?!

Cappuccino?!

No.

Mocha?!

MOCHACHINO! YES! With extra foam and cinnamon!

Oh, thank you, Jesus.

Charlie had standards. Not that many, mind you, but some.

Which meant? He was not going to drink the sludge at the work sight laughingly dubbed coffee for one minute longer than he had to. And, since he was out getting himself coffee? He figured he'd surprise his new bosses with decent coffee from the Talon. He was balancing three cups in the drink tray as his cell phone rang, and he switched hands, putting the little bag of creamers and such in his teeth as he dug out the phone, and tripped.

For a change, not over his own feet, but over a pair of paint covered sandals.

Coffee went flying.

Oh my GOD! And suddenly coffee went flying and Emily let out a shriek as big feet stepped on little sandals and OW! AND AHHHH! COFFEE! Everywhere! She let out another shriek as she grabbed him, and they went tumbling to the ground anyway, much to the horror of the other patrons, and oh my JESUS he was HUGE and SQUISHING HER! Had she mentioned the coffee?! She let out another gasp, oofing from her plop on the floor, and blinked at the ceiling.

Why, God? Why?

Christ, Jesus, why him? Charlie just lay there in the floor for a moment, collecting his thoughts. Coffee was everywhere on the both of them, all over the floor, he was tangled up in skinny paint-covered girl, and just... why God, why?

Why me, God? Do you want me to die? Lionel and Dominic, those two maniacs I work for? They're gonna kill me.

She was splattered.

And an instant later, realized that a man was the one doing the splattering.

All long, tense lines and strong arms. Laying over her and everything in her kicked, and oh my God it was an embarrassment, even as her belly flopped around. She stayed stock still, wincing, swallowing, wincing, and brought her hand down to the hair on the back of the mans hand.

Silky. So soft.

Okay. She was officially too young for this. She squirmed, blushing a hot, beat red, and quickly tried to get out from under him, blushing eight shades of red and blowing curls out of her eyes.

"I'm sorry," Charlie said, rolling off of her and dropping his head onto his knees. "Let me help you up?" He pushed himself up off the floor, then held out his hand to her.

She took it. Oh. Wide palm and long, long fingers and her hand was so way tiny and IT WAS THE HUNK FROM THE CONSTRUCTION SIGHT!

Oh, Jesus, God.

She stuttered, for at least five seconds straight, growing more red by the second as she bent down, retrieving his thankfully coffee free cell phone, and whimpered. "I-I-I'm sorry, sorry? And... I'll buy you... more coffee. Sorry, I am. I'm sorry."

Charlie just sighed and put the now-silent cell phone in his pocket. "No, no, don't worry about it. I think I can manage to get three more cups of coffee. Not spilling them? Is a whole other matter entirely." He blinked at her. "I'm sorry... do I know you?" He was politely asking, why was she staring and blushing?

Because she was AN IDIOT. She noticed his weird look and immediately looked away, swallowing and stammering. "I-I... I work at... with D-Dogwood? Ross? Painting. And... dropped? Paint? On you. I'm sorry! For which I am sorry, yes." Foot OUT OF MOUTH and she swallowed, hard, shifting a little bit. "Are you...alright? Not hurt or anything?"

"Oh, of course! You're Emily!!" He gave a small, cynical grin. "Dominic was quite a few shades of the rainbow after you were done with him. But yes, I'm all right, thanks." A real smile this time. "Mr. Ross sending you on a coffee run?"

"Yes, y...yes." She gave him a grin, rubbing a hand through her hair as Nell and her gals glared and went about cleaning the coffee up, her throat bobbing as she offered him a place in line with her. "I... mochachino. Extra foam and cinnamon, though why the m... man would need? More sugar? Beyond me." A little nervous giggle and she shifted from foot to foot, swallowing again as her heart fluttered. "I'm... really sorry, for... the falling. I've got boat feet."

"Serves me right for trying to walk and chew gum at the same time." He sighed. "We're both going back to the same place; we'll get both orders, and see if we can carry them out together without making a mess of it, how's that sound? I'll even give you a lift back if you need it."

Damn her little Honda. Damn it. "I... actually brought... my car?" A wince at him, gently. "But... thanks? For the invitation. I mean... its not every day the guy I tripped with coffee offers... a ride." Another wince. Yeah. She sounded as needy as she thought, and her throat bobbed as she swallowed. Damn. Christ, she liked the looks of him. "I... oh, am? Emily Anderson. And you?" She offered a hand to him.

"Charlie Siegel. I work for Dominic and Mr. Luthor, more's the pity." He gave her a little grin. "It's all right; it's the least I could do after soaking you with cappuccino." He shook her hand as she offered it.

"Soaking?" Oh. heh. She was covered in coffee. Hadn't. Even. Noticed. "Oh, its...its definitely alright." Flirting, COME ON EMILY! "Its... not everyday a girl gets rammed into b... by a handsome guy." A soft blush at him as she smiled, and shifted, getting a napkin holder full of white napkins off the table and blotting at her sweater past recognition.

Charlie blushed. "It's, uh, it's not every day that I, get to um, ram such a pretty lady." He dug through his pocket and came up with a handkerchief.

Which was just as soaked as her sweater, but he didn't even notice until he held it out.

She blushed, hotly, and smiled very tenderly at him as she took his sopping hanky... wringing it with a giggle and blotting her sweater. She pushed it to her belly and chest, lifting it out a little to clean it, and it was a lost cause, so she handed him his hanky back, with a smile. "Thank you... anyway."

Charlie still wasn't saying anything. He was just sort of... staring.

At Emily's chest.

More specifically, at the lack of anything under the sweater.

Emily blinked at him, staring at her coffee stain, and her slender eyebrows burrowed together. Okay. He was wicked cute, and WAY weird, but in her book, that wasn't always a bad thing, so she just blushed hotter and bit her lip. Alanis Morisette was playing on the radio in the Talon and yeah--how was THAT coincidence anyway? Alanis was her favorite, and she just beamed as the sultry Canadian belted out. "Ironic is one of my favorites. You like her?"

"Oh, I'm... I'm sorry, what?" He blinked. Words. She was speaking. He tore his eyes away from the translucent sweater, and dragged them up to her face. "I'm sorry, what?"

Her lips spread. "Its... coffee? Stain. Don't worry, though, I can bleach it. Best... best thing about white." Nervous grin at him as they got to the front of the line, and smiled shakily at the lady behind the counter. "H... hi. Mochachino, extra foam and cinnamon. Uh...and whatever he's going to... buy, I'll pay. So... M… Mr. Siegel?" She looked at him shyly and went into her skirt pocket for her now.... slightly damp money.

"Uh, n-n-no. I'll pay. For both. Three cappuccinos, and uh, a mochachino with cinnamon and extra foam."

Flash of white teeth as she shyly looked away, and his sudden... was seriously weird, but she didn't pay him any mind, as she smiled jittery-like, wringing her hands. "Th… thank... thank you? Mr. Siegel." Her cheeks reddened.

"My pleasure." Eyes above the chest, moron.

"S... so. How do you like? Mr. Senatori?" A gasp. "Is he mad? because... because the paint? thing? Because it was... was my fault, and...if ruined clothes? I can pay for them." A nod, than another nod, wringing her hands in nervousness cause he was staring at her and she didn't know why. "Do... I have? Something? On me?" A soft, blushing cough. "Aside... coffee."

"Charlie," he said suddenly, neurons firing about two steps behind the conversation. "Is me. My name. I mean. Charlie." He shook his head. "You were saying ruined clothes? No. He didn't say anything about the clothes, I wouldn't worry. He's-he's-he's... not at all bad."

Another blushing smile and she looked away, soosososo shy--and tried to look cool. Leaning on the counter , cocking a skinny hip.... and knocked over a plate of cookies and cakes, the glass crashing to the ground. She froze, eyes closing tightly instead as her lips tightened.... and she had just made a FOOL of herself and FUCK. She looked under her arm at the plate on the floor, crashed in a hundred pieces, and hissed through her teeth, giving the girl behind the counter the sixty dollars she had on her and hardly able to look at coffee as she took the coffee the stunned girl held out and stuttered out, "Th… thank you," Before she fled.

Charlie jumped a mile when the plate shattered on the ground, and his eyes were startled away from the pretty view she'd been offering him. He caught the soggy money as it was flung down on the counter, and he stuffed it back in his pocket. "Yeah. Sorry about that, my friend and I are a little clumsy today." He took the money out of his own wallet instead, paid for the four coffees and the damage to the store, and he chased after her.

She was fumbling, haphazardly, with her keys, stomping one sandaled foot as she bent over to get the door, fighting with it as she tried to escape in vain. Crap, oh, man, oh, God, her mama was right, she was never getting married. She just had too many limbs and way too many nervous ticks and oh shit the cute guy was coming and SHE COULD NOT GET THE RIGHT KEY IN!

"Emily, wait!" Charlie actually made it to the curb without spilling the set of replacement coffees. "You forgot your change." He put the coffee down on the ground, where it would be safe and out of harm's way, and then dug in his pocket for the three damp twenties. "Here."

She took them without looking, setting her own coffee on the roof of her car and she was ready to cry because yeah, making a fool? Of herself? In front of the cute guy? So her forte. Two accident in ten minutes as she stuffed the what she thought to be dollar bills in her pocket, whimpering. "Charlie, just... leaving me alone is good for personal health reasons."

"Hi, Emily, have you met me? I'm the one who tripped over your feet, not the other way around. LuthorCorp had to pad the carpet in Dominic's office because I kept fainting. I've got the humiliation gene in spades."

She was near tears but he made her laugh, and her eyes filled up even as she choked down her giggles, shaking her head as her tiny car separated them, rubbing at her cheeks. "They're boats. And trippable." A snuffle. "I'm... sorry for th… the. Sorry."

"Hey, it's okay." He looked at her across the car hood. "Come on. Let me give you a ride back; you look a little worse for wear. There's an extra slot in the tray for Dogwood's coffee, and you can ride with me. Your car'll be okay here."

Another snuffle and she shook her head a little bit, biting her lip... and nodding. Okay. Yes. "Alright, Ch--Mr.… Charlie. Thank you." She got her coffee and slid the keys into her pocket, rubbing a self conscious hand over her curls as she came around the side walk, lifting her really long skirt a little so she wouldn't get it wet and looking at him nearly eye to eye, she was so tall. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." He blinked, because he didn't realize how tall she was. "Come on, I'm parked just a few blocks down." He bent down and picked his coffees back up, and held out the tray. "Here, let me carry for you?"

"S… sure." A moment, as she studied him, gnawing on her lower lip as she watched him. "You... you like cocks?"

A blink. A flush, a strangled cough, and another blink. "...I'm sorry?"

"Cocks?" A blink at him, a raised brow, as she crossed her arms across her chest in the cool morning chill, and her sweater was thin AND THATS WHAT HE'D BEEN LOOKING AT.

Discreet glance down. ....And a sort of smile. Yeah. Maybe she could catch a man after all. "Cocks? Roosters, you know? They're having the... the... what's it called, county fair next weekend. Strawberry festival. Want...to go? With me?"

Charlie was in the middle of a severe, severe coughing fit. He was strangling, trying to suck breath in, and his face was fifteen shades of red. He finally had to stop, lean against a tree, and put his head between his knees.

Oh my God, she couldn't believe she had been--...she blinked, stopped, grasped the coffee before he dropped it and her eyes went wide, as she set the coffee on the ground and crouched down. "Charlie? Did... did I? Say some… something?" A bitten lip as she gently pat his arm, and he was beet red and she just… blinked.

"I... ::wheeze:: ...like cock... ::choke, gasp:: just fine, in that context," he sputtered out. And then he laughed. "I'd love to go with you."

Context?

OH MY GOD!

Now it was her turn to blush crimson, her eyes HUGE in her head as she stood up abruptly, nearly toppling back into the crowd and AH! Oh my GOD! She blushed horribly and buried her face in her hands, looking at him between her fingers. "I? Am way... way smoother than this. ...Not really. I'll understand if its a pity, you know, date."

Charlie caught her elbow before she could topple too far back, and he just grinned. "You know, Emily... I see a lot of myself in you, and I think we're gonna have a great time this weekend."

"I can't… believe... I was so nervy? To ask you. I mean... me. Date. HAH. Oh, God." LOSER. LOSER. LOSER. Flashing across her FOREHEAD. "Are... are you sure? Me?"

"I can't believe you just asked me if I like cock."

AHHHHHHHHHHHH!

She dropped her head in abject humiliation.

"I can't, you know? Believe it either."

Charlie had slid to sit down on his ass as he tried to breathe normally again. "I bet life with you isn't boring." He grinned. "It's not boring with me either. But I promise not to spill coffee on you again, if you promise not to decorate me with your paints, deal?"

Her smile, when it managed to grace her face without blushing cheeks, was beautiful, and her lovely almond shaped eyes bat softly as she plopped on the grass beside him, pulling the coffee close as she looked out at the street. "No... never... never boring." Ever. So her room mate told her. "Can… can I ask? How old are you?"

"You can." He grinned over his shoulder at her as she sat down without incident. "I'm 25."

"Yeah?" YES! Don't look excited! "That's... yeah. I'm 22." A nod and she brought her knees up, setting her chin on them...tipping her head a little, to look at him. "Do...do you... family?"

"Mom and Dad live in LA, older brother in Tallahassee." He looked at her. You?"

"Mom...Paris. Only child, so... I sort of, you know? Live on my own. Which is great, I love it." Another tip of her head. Okay. He hadn't laughed at her, he'd accepted her dumb cock thing, so... "I think you're really... really nice. Looking. Yeah."

Deep red blush, and another strangled coughing fit. "I think you're very pretty too."

He was proud of himself. He managed to keep his eyes off her chest as he said it, too. "Your eyes. I mean."

Big grin again and she looked down at the grass shyly, plucking a strand of grass from the ground. "Do...you like? Art? At all?"

Two and two together. Emily worked for/with Dogwood, therefore Emily likes art. That was simple enough for even Charlie to comprehend, and he nodded. "Yeah, I do. I dig what Dogwood's doing with the place, the restorations? I wasn't really wild about paintings, but watching them come alive from under all the years of soot? Yeah. It's impressive."

Big, huge beam. "I did… the naked Venus on the ceiling? In the Venus building. Its why... why Mr. Ross hasn't… tossed? Me? Out on my big butt." Another chuckle and she plucked at her shirt shyly, looking up at him. "What... stuff? Do you like?"

"You don't have a big butt." It escaped before he could muffle it, and he clapped his hand over his mouth. "Not that I was looking, or anything. I was. But not like that."

Her eyes lit up before she could stop it, biting her lower lip and grinning as she leaned over to whisper conspiratorially, "If it… helps? I was looking at yours. Too. But... not like that." She gave him a silly grin, tucking long hair over her shoulder as she pressed her knees to her chest and hoped to god her sweater dried. Having Charlie see her tits wasn't so bad, but the entire manly work sight? Noooooonononon.

And as he saw her do that, it dawned on him, and he hurriedly stripped out of his jacket. "Here. you Go. Seriously. I mean, it's my fault, right? Yeah. So, here." He draped it over her shoulders. "And um. We should get back."

He'd really noticed her boobs. WHY was that giving her such a happy? It wasn't like she ever really had DONE ANYTHING with a guy, not even DATED, so... ugh. She pulled his jacket on carefully, gratitude warming her eyes, and climbed to her feet. "I... can change, when we get there. Cause? I brought clothes, in case. So…thank you."

"You're welcome." He felt horrible for ogling her, but she was beautiful. "I'm sorry. For staring. But. Couldn't help myself." He pushed up to his feet, and held his hand out to help her up.

"I kind... kind of liked it." She was flirting. She had never flirted in her life, but she was doing it now and my God it was fun. Big smile at him as she got up, leaning back down for the coffee, and handing it over to him as she blushed.

Charlie blushed too, balancing the coffee in one hand and puling her up with the other and then crooking his elbow to catch her hand in it as he smiled.

HEEE!

Romance over spilled coffee and spilled cookies. And she just beamed, taking his arm and walking with him towards his car.

-=-=-

Joe Reynolds wasn't a horrible person. In fact, he was downright chipper when one got to know him. He was kind hearted, a little cold but it was just his way. He helped wherever he could, and really meant the best for all of the people he knew.

However.

When people directly betrayed the trust he had put in them, even these two randy kids who were more into each other than school, he had a problem with it. He'd caught them kissing a few times, necking, and he thought he'd put a direct stop to that sort of behavior on his campus.

And he explained that to them. Word for word. "And yet... you betray my trust by having sex in a house where a family, with small children, are going to live. I'm not going to ask if you feel bad about it--if you felt badly, you wouldn't have done it in the first place. I am... however… disappointed. Very, very disappointed. In the both of you."

Whitney was staring at the floor as he was listening to Reynolds. "I'm sorry we disappointed you, sir, but I told you, it was my fault. I talked her into it, and she didn't say no to me because she cares about me. If you're going to punish somebody, do it to me, and leave Chloe out of this." His hands were like steel bands around her wrists, and he made sure he stood between her and the angry principal.

"Sit down, Mr. Fordman." He pointed at the desk chairs behind his makeshift office... rather, Lex's office, and he'd kicked the young man out for this impromptu meeting, glaring at him as he took the seat behind the desk. "It doesn't matter who initiated what. All I know is that you did... that act in a house that is ready to sell, a house you had no business being in. Am I making myself quite clear?"

Whitney pushed Chloe into the chair first, and then sat down right beside her, close to her and holding her hand out of sight of the desk. "Yes, sir."

The kid looked so scared. Part of Joe's heart wanted to burst out laughing, but the other, the part where he was supposed to be strict, stayed glaring, eyebrow coming up. He wasn't dumb, he knew they were holding hands, and he simply looked at him with his steely eyes. "There are going to be seriously consequences to this, Mr. Fordman. Both your mother, and Ms. Sullivan's father, are on their way. They'll be here shortly."

Chloe... physically paled. Just paled, squeezing her boyfriends hand tighter as her mouth fell open.

"I realize that, and I don't care. I just want you to know, it wasn't Chloe's fault. I'll take whatever you dish out, but you gotta leave her out of it." He blanched as he mentioned their parents and just tightened his grip on her fingers.

"No, Mr. Fordman. She took part in it, and the punishment will go to the both of you. Before your parents get here, is there anything else you'd like to tell me?"

In that moment, Whitney thought of a lot of things he'd like to tell the principal, but not a single one of them would help his case. "Only that you're not being fair; it's not her fault!"

"Yes, it is." Chloe said softly, squeezing her boyfriends hand tightly as she lifted her head and looked at the principle. "It was my idea. I convinced Whitney... it was my fault."

He'd figured. Whitney was as meek as a puppy, and Chloe had a soul like an Amazon. But he just sighed, rubbing his face. "I don't know what I'm going to do with you and your friends. Between you, Clark, and Shayla Senatori..."

"No it's not! She's lying, Mr. Reynolds. It was my idea, not hers. I made her do it." Whitney just glared at his girlfriend, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as the beads were still inside him and it was making him a tad cranky.

"It wasn't." Chloe shook her head, setting her head on Whitney's arm. "It was alllll me."

"Thank you for telling the truth." And because Joe really appreciated that he rose his brow, taking a sip of his coffee. "It means a lot that you wouldn't let him cover for you. Because I would have found out, Ms. Sullivan."

"I know." She sighed, softly.

Whitney just glared at both of them, then relented and kissed his girlfriend on the temple. "You should have let me," he said softly, so the principal wouldn't hear him. "You'll be in trouble now."

"I'm busted anyway." She said softly, pressing a kiss to his chin. "My dads going to have a cow, baby."

"Yes, young lady. I am."

Gabe Sullivan had just turned forty years old the week before and God, he was feeling every. Single. Minute. He stepped in, Whitney's mother beside him, and shut the door behind him, as the principle rose. They shook hands and Gave didn't dare look at his daughter, because if he did he'd kill her. The principal calling him for something was never good, and Whitney was clutched to her, and why did he feel a throbbing headache coming on?

Fuck, and this was the last thing his mother needed. Fuck and double fuck.

Lorraine Fordman came into the room with Mr. Sullivan. Unlike Mr. Sullivan however, she had a pretty good idea of why she was being called down here, especially when she saw her son clinging so tightly to Chloe. "Mr. Reynolds, I came as soon as I got your call."

"Thank you both for joining us… please, sit down." Reynolds offered the two chairs on either side of Chloe and Whitney, and he got up to make sure the door was closed firmly behind them. "Would either of you like coffee?"

"No, thank you, Mr. Reynolds." Gave declined quietly, as he took his hard hat off. He'd been off working in the buildings with the Dell folks, who were a few days before schedule, and looked at the principal.

"No, thank you, sir." Mrs. Fordman sat down beside her son and glared angrily at him. "Mr. Sullivan and I both came down rather quickly, Mr. Reynolds. Could you please tell us what's going on?"

"Ah...yes." Joe looked at both worried, angered parents carefully. "I found... your children, earlier this afternoon, making love in one of the finished houses on Cedar street. I'm not sure if you're familiar with our code, but we don't allow any public displays of affection in our school, let alone tolerate any of this type of behavior."

Gabe… went... deadly... still.

And Chloe hid in her lovers arm, cause she saw her dad get that I am going to kill you face and AH!

Mrs. Fordman didn't react at all, which Whitney knew was a danger sign unlike any other. "I see, Mr. Reynolds." Her voice was very calm and controlled. "And yes, I'm familiar with the school codes; I don't believe they're any different from standard moral behavior, but I could be wrong."

Whitney flinched. Sarcasm. Never a good thing.

"No, indeed, they are not. However...they told me the truth. And that goes far to say about your children, in this sort of situation. You may discuss this amongst yourselves... however, I feel expulsion would be going to far. I'm going to talk to the school board, but I believe a months suspension will be enough, for the both of them, and they will be on academic probation until the day they graduate. Chloe may continue to do the Torch, however she will no longer be senior editor. You'll have to find a replacement." He said to her stricken face, and kept speaking. "Whitney, you will be off the football team as of Monday. Are we clear?"

Whitney shot out of his chair. "You can't do that to her! You know what that newspaper means to her! Kick me off the football team, I don't care, suspend me, expel me, whatever gets your jollies off, but you can't take the paper away from her!" He slammed his hands down on the desk.

"John Whitney Fordman, sit back down immediately. You will not speak to Mr. Reynolds in such a tone, do I make myself clear?" Lorraine's voice was ice.

Joe simply rose a brow. "Mr. Fordman, would you like to graduate this year? I don't think you understand the severity of what you've done, here. Ms. Sullivan is still a minor, and you are not. I am going to try very hard that you don't get charged with statutory rape, young man. So please, sit down."

Chloe made a soft, sad noise in her throat and it squeaked and cut off when her fathers furious, disappointed eyes flew to her and she bit her lip as she began to cry, snuffling hard as she gripped Whitney's hand.

Oh, and no doubt, Gabe was furious. His daughter had lied to him. He hadn't been aware his daughter was having sex on an everyday occurrence… she'd told him she'd lost her virginity to Whitney but Gabe thought the young man had enough sense to keep it in his pants...and Chloe. He thought she'd be smart enough to keep herself virginal, after what happened with her mother.

Fuck.

"I don't care about graduating, I care about Chloe!!" He turned around when she started crying, and despite the presence of other people in the room, he got down on his knees in front of her, holding her tightly and stroking her back. "Sssh... come on, baby, don't cry, don't let 'em see them break you. Coach Walt always said that, never let 'em see you break, Fordman."

Joe barely kept from rolling his eyes.

"Whitney? If you know what's good for you, you'll stand up right now." Gabe's voice was very... very carefully calm.

She snuffled again, hard, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand as she hugged her boyfriend and knew this might be the end of them, if her dad and Whitney's mom had anything to do with it, and oh, she snuffled, chin permanently trembled as she grasped her boyfriends arm.

"Then it's a good thing I don't know what's good for me, Mr. Sullivan. Cause I'm not leavin' her alone when she's sad. It's not in me to do it." He just pulled her tighter against him.

Mrs. Fordman just sighed. That was Jack in the boy; Jack had been that way. Love hard, love once, love only. And it made her sad, to think of her husband, but she was glad too, because at least Whitney was turning into the kind of man Jack had been. "John, that's enough. Don't talk back to Mr. Sullivan."

"I'm sorry, Mom. But I love her. I'm not gonna let her be upset."

"She should be upset." Gabe was just... he was so angry. "I trusted you, Chloe Dawn. I trusted you, and this is what you do to that trust, you take it and you completely destroy it. I trusted you with this boy, but while I've been gone, working to make a living so we might be able to eat each month, and you're... you're making love with this boy, even when you should be doing a school function?" He gazed at her and felt his heart breaking. His wife had been like this, so much life, so much spunk, and the day she died he'd found out she'd been cheating on him with two other men. He couldn't let his baby girl become like that, and his heart just... it was so broken. Not even her tears could make him stop. "I trusted you. And you broke that trust."

It wasn't the anger in her dads voice, or the frustration. But the complete, utter sadness that had her sobbing, covering her face with her hands. Oh. Shit. They'd fucked up SO bad, and she just sobbed, crying all the harder.

Joe sighed softly. There was a lot of talking they had to do, and he didn't need to be here for it. "I'll see you both... on March tenth." He said softly, and rose. "I'll be outside, you're free to talk as long as you need. If you need me again, please, don't hesitate, I'll be right outside with the students."

"Mr. Sullivan, if you're going to be mad at somebody, be mad at me and leave her the hell alone. You're just makin' her feel worse and worse, and I'm not gonna let you." Whitney pulled Chloe against him, rocking her. "It's okay, baby." He rubbed his cheek against hers, not letting her see how terrified he was that this was the last time he was going to get to see her, to hold her, to tell her he loved her. "I love you, Chloe," he whispered softly to her, so nobody else in the room could hear.

"John, put the girl down. We're going to go home." Lorraine sighed. She was going to have to have a very, very long talk with her son. "You heard me, boy."

"No, Mr. Fordman. I'm plenty mad at you, too, just as I'm sure Lorraine is mad at Chloe. We trusted you, the both of you, to make the right decisions and hold up a certain respect and honor for one another... and you're having sex in the houses you've been building? No. I'm sorry. No." He shook his head, and looked at Lorraine in sympathy, and guidance. "I'd just like to know, Whitney, if you have honorable intentions towards my daughter."

Whitney nodded. "I've already proposed to her once, Mr. Sullivan. And I'm going to again in a few months, once I've graduated and gone to work full time."

It was what he had been terrified to hear, and he groaned and plopped his hand in his head as he climbed to his feet, leaning against the desk in front of his sobbing daughter and her boyfriend. And... Christ, looked at Lorraine and begged for guidance cause damn he was shitty at this and he'd been doing it for a while.

"Don't you look at me, Gabe Sullivan," Lorraine said softly. "I've got a problem child of my own here." She landed a soft swat on Whitney's shoulder.

"You both...want to get married."

Chloe looked up, sobbing harder as she did it, and her face was just streaked as she looked at her fathers horrified face, and buried her face in her lovers arm, hugging him tightly.

Gabe had never needed a stiffer drink than he did, in this moment.

"Don't worry, Mr. Sullivan. She turned me down. You should be happy about that at least." Was that him being bitter? Nope. He just held her tighter. "You raised her well enough to know that she wasn't ready then, why don't you trust her the rest of the way?" Whitney's hands stroked through Chloe's hair as he cradled her.

"John Whitney Fordman, I can't believe you were stupid enough to think you could have a wife and not even be outta high school." Lorraine put her hands on her hips and just glared at her son. "Boy, you and me gonna have a long talk when I get you home."

"Whitney...there is....you both are so young. Young. You don't know the commitment it takes to be in a relationship quite yet, son. And... Christ. Lorry, I'll call you when I get through. Chloe, you're coming with me." He motioned an arm and walked to the door, getting his keys out.

Oh, GOD and she just cried, holding her lover tightly for a minute before getting to her feet to follow her daddy.

Whitney got up too. "No, sir. I do know. I know the commitment it takes. I know the pain of losing someone you care about. I know about the commitment it takes to do the right thing, which is one of the few things I learned before they booted me out of camp. You, Mr. Sullivan, I respect you. And I like you. But you don't know me well enough to say what I do and don't know." He didn't let go of Chloe. "And I'm not going to let you hurt and upset her any more than you already have. I love her, and I'm going to protect her."

Lorraine got up out of her seat at that. "John Whitney, if you ever entertain any hopes of seein' that girl again, you apologize to Gabe right now, and you let her go. And then you and I are gonna talk about that smart mouth you seem to have."

Alright, Gabe was getting pissed. Shit, had he ever been this dumb? He looked at Chloe, knowing she knew better, and she came after him immediately, as he looked at Whitney. "You and I will talk, young man. For now, I don't believe I can see you, because you... touched my baby girl. And that..." A stiff shake of his head, and he turned, grasping Chloe gently but firmly, and pulling her down the steps and out towards the car.

"Chloe!!" Whitney went to go after her, but his mother got in the way. "Mom!"

"John... sit down."

Whitney sat. His mother was the only person who could get away with calling him John and him actually listening to them.

"Now don't you move until Gabe and Chloe are gone. And then we're going out to the car, young man, and we are going home. And then you and I are going to talk, and you are going to be grounded."

- = -

...Which Gabe was saying to his crying daughter as he opened the car door for her, and then got in himself. "Not only are you grounded, missy? You are grounded until you turn forty. Possibly fifty, if I live that long. Are we understood and clear?"

"Y-Y-" Sob. "Yes."

- = -

"Mom, he's killing her. Did you see how she looked when she left? He's killing her and he knows it and he just doesn't care. That fucking--"

"John!!! Watch your mouth when you're talking to your mother!"

"--dickwad of a principal--"

"WHITNEY!!"

"--just took away the one thing that means the most to her, and now her dad's not even caring! He's just piling it on and making her feel worse and worse and nobody but me seems to CARE!!"

Lorraine just sighed, and stared at her son. "Jack would probably agree with you, you know."

"Dad?"

"Yes, your father. Jack'd be agreeing with you left, right and sideways. Cause he was just the same as you. But he knew something you don't know, John. He knew when to shut up and not talk. And that's something you've gotta learn."

- = -

Chloe… was just... sobbing. Her heart was broken and she just couldn't stop crying, harder then ever, sobbing because maybe they'd just broken up and her dad and his mom and maybe they'd never see each other again and oh GOD she was so SAD. The Torch was gone, Whitney was gone, and she just. Sobbed, as her dad ranted beside her.

And the worst thing? She knew he was in the right.

"I can't believe you. I can't believe my daughter, my baby, would do such a thing. I thought you were a good girl, I thought I could trust you, Chloe. Do you want to end up pregnant? Do you want to have your life ruined, because of a mistake you make now?"

"He-he's not a mistake."

"He is when you're having sex with him under my roof!"

- = -

Lorraine was listening for the car to crank up before she let Whitney outside. "John, honey, the bottom line is this. You're in the wrong, and you both know it. Mr. Reynolds is totally in his right to expel you both, and you're just lucky he's not. And you're lucky he's not pressing charges against you. You'll be lucky if Gabe doesn't, but I think once he calms down, he'll be a little more reasonable."

"Mom, I don't care about all that. I love her. That's all I care about. I love her and I want her to be happy." He shoved the terror and the fear even deeper, because he just couldn't deal with it. Not right now. Because the thought of never seeing Chloe again was just too terrifying.

 

 

-fin-

go on to the next part