The Brink of Destruction

Wynn was snoring softly when I crept through the door, but she had left the closet light on so I wouldn't break a leg. I was dying to talk to her, but she was sleeping so peacefully that I decided it could wait until morning.

Sleep, however, wasn't so easy for me. My mind kept playing over that last moment before Billie left, the almost-kiss that didn't quite happen. I was savoring the exhilaration of sneaking into the Chapel with him, and even running from security--it was all so deliciously defiant, so unlike me! Then I thought about Dustin, and my stomach tightened. He would be so angry if he knew I had been with another guy alone, or that Billie had nearly done something I didn't want him to.

I didn't want him to, I swear.

From now on, I decided, there would be no more shady adventures with Mr. Armstrong. If we saw each other when there were other people around, that was fine, but being alone together wasn't a good idea. There was too much going on with school, and the semester had just started. I didn't need trouble.

As I fell asleep, I dreamed of running through a maze, chased by a horde of red-eyed, squeaking mice. I just hope Wynn didn't hear me when I woke up calling Billie's name.

*************

The week passed, as weeks will do, and as grades began to come back, I was doing well. Besides a B in Calculus, everything else was in the A's, so that was good. It had to be--my scholarships depended on it, and without them, I was out on my ass!

Lounging on the sofa in the commons room, watching Oprah, I fidgeted with my cell phone, waiting for Dustin to call and announce that he was finally here. I'd cleaned the room so obsessively that Wynn had been calling me "Martha" for two days, and I had a couple of ideas for places I wanted to take him when we went sightseeing. All that was missing was him, and by around 6:00, that would be fixed as well.

In the middle of a tearful confession by a woman who had put her baby up for adoption because of her drug addiction, my phone rang, and I jumped to answer it.

I really wish I hadn't.

Dustin was calling to tell me that the friend who was going to give him a ride back from Raleigh had car trouble, so he was stuck riding the bus back to school with the team. It was maddening--he was only 20 miles away, but there was no way I could get to him, or get him home later. I didn't want to whine, so I tried to be a good sport.

"Look, it's okay," I lied. "It's good just talking to you. Did you guys win your game?"

He sounded so disappointed. "Well, yeah, but...man, I was really hoping to see you. I've been looking forward to this all week. I even brought my guitar--I've been writing a couple of songs with a guy on our hall, and I think you'd like them."

The first thought in my mind wasn't how sweet he was, or how proud I was of him, although it should have been. Instead, I found myself wondering how his music would compare with Billie's. And that's why things didn't work out like I'd hoped--an asshole like me didn't deserve to see a wonderful guy like him.

But at least he couldn't read my mind. "Wow, that's great! I'd love to hear what you've written. Maybe you could record it and send it to me--I'll show it to Wynn, too!"

And so the small talk went, pitiful pieces of the conversations we wanted so much to have face to face, until there didn't seem to be much left to say. We promised to try again soon to get together, and then I was holding a silent phone in my hand, staring at it as if it might suddenly ring again and tell me it was all a bad joke.

My feet weighed a ton as I trudged up the stairs. I know, I know, it was just a letdown, but the anticipation was what had kept me going all week. And now...well, now I just felt sorry for myself.

How pathetic.

I opened the door, and suddenly a big handful of confetti snowed down over my head.

"Welcome to Canterbury!" Wynn said cheerfully, but the big smile on her face faded when she saw I was alone. "Where's Dustin--does he need help bringing his stuff up?"

"Nahh, he had ride problems at the last minute and called to tell me he can't come." Oh, for God's sake, now my chin was trembling. This was just stupid! I turned away from her and bent down to plug my phone into the charger, which gave me a moment to get my control back.

"Oh, Gen, that really sucks out loud. I wish I could help, I really do. And to get so close..." She wrapped her arms around me in a big, friendly hug, and I was just so glad to have her company. She could make me feel better no matter how bad a day I was having. "I know--why don't you come with Mike and me to see Rocky Horror tonight? I'm going as Magenta, and I can't wait to see those big blue eyes of his when he picks me up!" Neither could I--she'd be wearing a little black and white maid's outfit, and he'd probably need oxygen, the poor guy!

Wynn was an expert on Rocky Horror--the girl had seen that movie at least thirty times, and knew it forward and backward. I still didn't understand what all the fuss was about, or how you could enjoy a movie when everyone was yelling and throwing things, but she swore it was a bloody riot! But tonight...

"I appreciate your asking me, but I don't think my heart would be in it. Besides, it would be my first time, and I don't know all the stuff I'd need to do."

"You just stick with me, and nobody will know you're new--and that's good, because they always drag the virgins to the back row!"

Geez, how many ways were there to be a virgin? I seemed to have found every one that existed!

She sensed my reluctance, and doubled her effort. "Gen, it's just what you need. It'll make you forget everything about the ordinary world for a couple of hours. Doesn't that sound good?"

I knew I was beaten. "Okay, you win," I laughed. "But I'm not dressing up--I'd never be able to hold my own next to you!"

"Oh ye of little faith..." she purred, diving into that magical closet of hers yet again.

When Mike pulled up in his gleaming black Camaro, I almost ran to get in so no one would catch a glimpse of me. Somehow--don't ask me how--my darling roommate had convinced me that if I wore nothing more than a white bra and half-slip, I'd be instantly recognizable as one of the stars of this godforsaken movie. I had serious doubts, but with a couple of preemptive shots of courage (mixed with tequila and lime), I went along obediently--wrapped in a long jacket, of course.

Imagine my surprise when I got to the car and saw Billie and Tre in the back seat! Tre looked outrageous, yet somehow fetching, with a black corset, fishnets, heels and drag queen makeup, but Billie and Mike were dressed in their normal clothes--rebels to the end, even for this!

Sliding in beside Billie, I wrapped my jacket as close around me as I could. I felt so vulnerable and exposed, and it didn't help that he was leering at me like Chester the Molester.

"What you got under there, Barbie?" he smarmed. "Can I have a peek?"

"No, you can't. Mike, you didn't mention that you'd be bringing this...gentleman with you," I said, with a touch of sarcasm. "Is he experienced enough for this?"

Billie exploded with laughter, and Mike turned to stare at me in disbelief. Wynn was snickering as she turned to high-five me.

"Well, why don't you slip out of that jacket, missy, and I'll let you be the judge?" Billie smirked. He lowered his hand onto my knee and slowly began to slide it up my leg, staring me right in the eye and hoping for a reaction.

I'd be damned if I'd give him one. Like a drunk driver playing "chicken," I stared right back into those green eyes, refusing to flinch as his hand crept higher and higher. The slightly crooked grin on his face grew wider as he slipped his fingertips under the lace hem of the slip. I was a statue, not smiling, not moving a muscle.

I won.

Mere inches from what would have been justification for slapping his face, his hand stopped. He slowly withdrew it, and shook a scolding finger in my face.

"You naughty girl, you, letting boys feel you up in the back seat!" He leaned his face close to mine, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Boys don't worry me," I said airily. "Now, if you were a man..." I cocked a brow at him as the barb sank home. He stared at me for a moment, and nodded approval.

"Damn, girl, I do love your spunk!" he crowed.

We all made it through the patdown at the theater entrance, and when the huge pair of red lips floated into view on the screen, the entire place went insane. I mostly watched, trying to make sense of what was being shouted at the screen, and shaking my head at the amazing costumes people in the audience were wearing.

Suddenly a handful of people running up the aisle yelled, "Virgin roundup!" and one of them grabbed my hand, dragging me toward the back of the theater. I was dumped gently, but unceremoniously, into a seat in the back row.

Great, I thought. Even people I've never seen before can tell.

I was about to get up and rejoin our group when Billie plopped into the seat next to me.
"Don't worry," he said, laughing. "I'll keep you company back here. Besides, nothing much happens until the Time Warp." I just nodded, having no fucking idea what he was talking about. I was sitting up, trying to see the screen over the heads of the people standing.

Billie leaned back in his seat, and draped his arm over the back of my chair. I felt his fingertips lightly grazing the small of my back, lazily tracing little circles on my skin. I leaned forward, my forearms on the seat in front of me, and rested my head on my arms. I wasn't thinking about where I was, or who was beside me. The tequila was making me content and pliable, and I was enjoying the sensation of his hand on my skin, brushing so lightly I could feel goosebumps. His fingers casually slid under the strap of the pristine white bra, making sure not to neglect the patch of tender skin there, and then circled under my shoulder blades, making me shiver deliciously.

It was so relaxing I could almost have fallen asleep in the midst of all the chaos in the theater. I sighed heavily, my mind getting fuzzy and drifting away.

Billie reached up and pulled me back so that I was leaning against him, his arm around my shoulders. He stroked the sensitive skin on the inside of my arm, and I turned a little to press my face against his chest.

"So is this really the right place for you to be sitting?" he murmured in my ear.

Embarrassed that I wasn't sure what he meant, I looked up at him, expecting to see that arrogant smirk as usual. But his face was more serious this time, and as his fingers continued their feathery persuasion, I began to realize the noise around us was fading away like cotton candy.

"I don't understand," I said, shaking my head.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against my ear, and I could feel the warmth of his breath on my neck. "The back row's for virgins, remember?"

I was getting tired of the word, tired of the way it got used as a subtle badge of inexperience and naivety. "If I am, what difference would that make to you?" I said, my voice steadier as I anticipated some smart ass remark from him.

"Just that I think the man you choose to change that with will be very lucky." He bent his head, and pressed a gentle kiss on my shoulder. Then he stood up and took my hand. "Come on, we've got to go do the Time Warp!"

Damn him.