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Not the Sun	By : CeeCee Category: Comics > Archie & Co. Views: 6276 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Archie & Co, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
Epiphany
Summary: Ethel realizes that the time for insecurities has come to an end.
Author’s Note: I’m sorry for the late updates. It sucks being so busy at home with cleaning, errands, a big sewing project that I’m working on, phone calls, and kids’ homework and cooking that I never get to write anymore. And when I do have free time, I’ve been watching Being Human on BBC or getting caught up on sleep. I have a job that leaves me exhausted on the best of days, and questioning my life’s direction on the worst.
Additional note: It's corny, but I gave Ethel a middle name. The only character in Archieverse is Jug, whose name is Forsythe P Jones, but for the purpose of this chapter, she gets a whole name. Spoiler! (hides)
*
Ethel barely escaped being grounded, but her father’s annoyed, disappointed look when she meekly locked the front door and stumbled up to her room was punishment enough. Phone calls to Moose throughout that following week were furtive and guilty, even though her parents decided that she could be a bit more liberal with her curfew, now that she was eighteen, since the moment she started college in the fall, it would disappear. Ethel couldn’t believe her senior year had gone by so fast. It felt surreal, and even terrifying.
Her time with Moose was also at a premium, and it was precious. Ethel worried for the first three days following their stolen night together that he would be like Alex, that Moose wouldn’t call her or that things would be awkward between them in school. When Moose finally called her, it was to explain that his truck needed a tune-up and that he was relying on his bike to get to work.
If anything, Ethel’s worries that he would blow her off were unfounded; he found excuses to touch her, gently nudging her through the door first whenever he held it for her and other random gestures that made her sigh. It felt so odd not to feel “undesirable” anymore.
Maybe that was her problem, she mused. Ethel had a hard time not assigning the responsibility of her self-worth to other people’s opinions. If anyone said that she was too tall, she slouched and tried to blend in with the wallpaper. If they said she was too skinny, she wore baggy clothes to hide it. If they said she was ugly, she hid her face behind a book. At the end of the day, she wondered why she let it get to her, why she didn’t just tell everyone to vacation in hell with a popsicle and some SPF 50.
The Moose she cared about wasn’t the same one who vandalized her yearbook or called her Bucky or Tinsel Teeth in junior high. It felt odd to tell herself that: I care about Moose. I think I’m in love with him. It hit her in the middle of tossing a salad while she was helping her mother make dinner. She stared into space for a few moments, utensils hovering over the bowl of mixed greens.
“Honey? Are you done with that?”
“Huh?”
“Ethel? What’s up? Are you in there?”
“Heh. Yeah. Here.” She handed her mother the bowl and moved on to poking the boiled potatoes with a fork.
“Those are done. Mash them up, if you want.”
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“How old were you when you met Dad?”
“Oh. Hm. Probably about twenty-two. We met through a friend. Actually, he was dating one of my friends.”
“What’s the story behind that?” Ethel pried, intrigued. She plunged the masher into the spuds as she listened.
“My friend Peggy was a pretty girl, and she was a total flirt. We all used to go out for drinks on Saturday nights, and as soon as we got there, every time, the men would come over and chat her up. Your dad dated her for maybe three months. Or four. It wasn’t long. But Peggy was flaky.”
“Flaky?”
“She’d make excuses. Not return his calls. Her roommates would tell her that he left messages, but she’d shrug them off and say she’d get around to it, but she never called back.”
“So what made him decide he liked you?”
“It was nothing out of the ordinary. We ran in the same circle of friends. Even when he was dating Peggy, we just used to make polite small talk, but once they were single, we still just ran into each other a lot. He asked me out at my friend Karen’s party after asking me if I thought it was weird.”
“Did it feel weird?”
“Nope. I was tickled pink, and your father was very cute.”
Ethel bit her tongue and cringed. It was definitely weird to hear her mom describe him that way and to imagine them as boyfriend and girlfriend when they were little more than her age. “Peggy didn’t give you a hard time about it?”
“It wasn’t up to her to give me permission,” her mother sniffed. “She was annoyed with me for a while that I decided to go out with him, but she admitted that she didn’t want him back. He looked better to her once I was interested in him. It’s always like that when someone you break up with starts going out with someone else.”
“That’s stupid,” Ethel muttered sourly as she fluffed the potatoes with a fork and whipped in some butter.
“Hey, I’m not the one who wrote that rule.” Her mother was mixing some ground beef with bread crumbs and eggs for a meatloaf, and she peered over her shoulder at her daughter suspiciously. “So what’s going on? How’s old Moose doing?”
“He’s fine.”
“He calls you often enough,” her mother muttered. “Popular little somebody, aren’t you?”
“Mommmmm!” Ethel whined. Her nape prickled and she felt herself flush. “It’s no big deal. He doesn’t call that much.” Her mother swatted her with a dish towel.
“Trust me. Your father keeps getting that funny look on his face whenever the phone’s for you.” Ethel knew that “funny look” and she snickered. “It’s going to freeze that way.”
*
Ethel hated shoe shopping. Having a size eleven foot made salesman give her pitying looks whenever they told her that they didn’t carry it in anything cute. She went with her mother to a warehouse outlet store in Central City, and she managed to score a pretty pair of red satin sandals with a stiletto heel. Her mother whistled at the price.
“Ouch. Lot of money to pay for a pair of shoes you’ll only wear once.”
“They’re worth it. These are the ones. I have to take these home.” Ethel beamed, and she imagined Moose’s reaction to seeing them with the dress she picked out. He still liked her legs, and he teased her skin with his fingertips, caressing them whenever she wore a skirt. Ethel knew she was falling back into her old habit of trying to please him by being what he seemed to want her to be, not unlike what she did when she liked Juggie. She wore more skirts, and she knew it probably wasn’t fair to exploit his weakness, but when he stroked her knee, or drew small circles with his fingers over her inner thigh, she felt sparks go off in her stomach.
Her mother still made a face at the shoes as the clerk bagged them up and handed them to her daughter over the counter. “Your father will have a fit.”
“They’re just shoes!” Ethel insisted. Her mother looked unconvinced as they drove home, but inwardly, Ethel was satisfied. They were very sexy shoes, and she had no doubt that her father would hate them.
That meant they were perfect.
*
The night of the prom:
Moose fidgeted as his mother fixed his tie, manipulating the red acetate into a neat bow. “I would have loved to see you in blue to match your eyes,” she murmured. “But you look nice.”
“Is it on straight?” Moose turned to check himself in the mirror, running his hand through the back of his hair. He’d had it cut the day before, and he made a face. “It’s too short.”
“No it’s not. You look dapper and cleaned up.”
“Do you think she’ll like it?”
“Of course she will!” Moose’s mother smoothed her hands over his sleeves, admiring his black tuxedo. Moose eyed her suspiciously.
“You’re not just saying that because you’re my mom, right?”
“I wouldn’t lie to you. I’m biased, I’ll admit it, but I’d let you know if you looked lame, sweetie.” Moose tsked; his mother’s attempts to use his catch words were usually amusing or disastrous.
Moose kept fidgeting as he watched the clock, pacing the house, making sure he didn’t forget anything.
“Keys,” he muttered, patting his pants pockets.
“They’re in your shirt pocket,” his mother reminded him.
“I’ll put them in the pants, then.” He fumbled with them, dropped them, then shoved them into his pants pocket impatiently. “Got any mints?”
“You have time to run out and get some, if it means you’ll stop pacing, Duke.”
“I can’t help it.”
“You weren’t this worked up when you went to junior prom,” she reminded him.
“This is the last one,” he reminded her. “It’s different.”
And he was taking someone who wasn’t Midge Klump. She’d been his steady date to every dance for over four years. It was going to be different, dancing with a girl who was his height and who smelled different, kissed different, and who wasn’t worried about him smothering her or being “clingy.”
Midge was all he thought he ever wanted, like a favorite pastime or ice cream flavor. Ethel blew everything he ever knew about himself, or wanted for himself, completely out of the water.
“I don’t want to mess this up,” Moose muttered to his reflection as he ran his hand through his hair again.
“What makes you think you will?” his mother asked softly.
“She’s special.” His cheeks burned. It was weird talking about these things with his mother.
She sensed his reticence and sighed inwardly. When did her little boy grow up and leave her behind? What happened to solving all of his worldly problems with PB&J sandwiches or a trip to 7-11 for a Slurpee? Who was this stranger in an adult’s body, staring back at her with her eyes? She’d had to pack his twin-sized set of Star Wars bed sheets into the Goodwill bag two years ago, and it hurt.
It was hard watching him get his heart broken when he broke up with that Klump girl, even though he put on a gruff, stoic mask and closed himself off from her. She didn’t dislike Midge, but she hated it when girls played games, and when anyone hurt her baby.
“You’ll have a good time,” she told him, smoothing his lapel and straightening his cuff. “Remember your manners. Open her door. Pull out her chair. Don’t keep her out too late.”
“She doesn’t have curfew tonight,” he argued.
“Pretend she does.” Moose snorted. His mother gave him the stink-eye.
“Here’s some money.”
“I’m fine, Ma! I already cashed my check.”
“You won’t be able to work so many hours next fall once you’re in school full-time,” she reminded him. “Save your cash while you can.”
“I know,” he admitted. “She believed in me. Ethel helped me with my SAT’s.”
“That was kind of her.”
“She doesn’t think-“ Moose’s lips tightened as he bit back what he’d been about to say.
“What doesn’t she think?” Moose turned away from his mother and paced to the refrigerator, searching for the orange juice. His mother patiently handed him a glass to keep him from swigging it straight from the pitcher. Out of habit, he glugged it down thirstily, set down the glass with a thunk, and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. She sighed and shook her head. “You can tell me,” she prodded hopefully.
“Ma… she doesn’t think I’m an idiot,” he blurted out.
“Of course she doesn’t!” she insisted.
“Everyone else does,” he confessed awkwardly. Moose’s throat closed up. “Everyone else thinks so. Even Midge did.”
“Duke, you’re a bright kid and sharp as a tack. Momma didn’t raise no fools,” she jibed. He tried to laugh but he couldn’t meet her eyes until she reached up to him, gripping his chin to hold his attention. “Never doubt yourself. Give yourself plenty of credit, Moose. You’re more than just a pretty face and a killer tackle. Ethel likes you for you, not for what you can do for her, from the sound of it.”
“I gotta go, Ma.” He was close to choking up, and he couldn’t do that in front of his mother. He already felt lame enough…
“Bring her back by. I want to take pictures.”
“MA!” He threw up his hands in exasperation. She reached up, tweaked his ear and insisted on a quick peck goodbye.
“Oh, don’t forget your corsage.” She headed back to the fridge and pulled out the clear plastic box. “Red roses. Classic. Good job, Duke.”
“It matches her dress,” he said bashfully. “Ma, I gotta go.”
*
“How’s my hair?” Ethel typed frantically, peering up into her Web cam.
“It’s fine,” Betty texted back, and her footage showed the blonde giving her a thumbs-up. Ethel sighed, then kept on typing.
“I’m nervous.”
“Don’t be. This will be fun.”
“Everyone’s going to stare at us.”
“Whatever. Let them stare. They’re jerks, anyway. Who cares what they think?”
“I do. I want to have fun.”
“So have fun. Can’t wait to see you at the restaurant.” Betty planned to meet Ethel and Nancy at the Riverdale Lakeside Resort and Tavern for dinner so they could go over to the prom together, one last big night out before they graduated. Veronica said she planned to go, but she had a few more stops to make before she met them, so she would be more than fashionably late. They all turned down the chance to share her limo with it in mind to get to dinner early enough to beat the crowd and meet their reservation time.
“I need help with my makeup.”
“No you don’t. You look nice. Wear that raisin lipstick you have and the smoky eye shadow.”
“I can’t do mine like you can.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Bitch…
“LOL.”
They chatted briefly, and Ethel took occasionally “brb” breaks to search for things like her earrings and shoes or to put on her deodorant. When they finally logged off, her butterflies came back and she was breaking out into nervous sweat.
Junior prom was a disaster. She didn’t have a date and only ended up on the dance floor for “sympathy” slow songs with Fangs Fogarty and Dilton. It sucked. Betty and Nancy were nice enough to stand up for a prom photo with her, but it wasn’t the same by far. It was awesome yet weird to have a date. It was even weirder that her date was Moose.
Yet it was perfect. A year ago, he and Midge were attached at the hip and the lip, slow-dragging, making out, standing spooned by the punch bowl and swaying back and forth to the music. It was sickening, and Ethel was jealous, not of Midge, per se, but at what couples like those two and like what Chuck and Nancy had. They were “items.” They had a safety net of always having someone to go to a movie with on Saturday night or always having “someone to check in with” on their cells when they drove home from school. Ethel sometimes wondered why Betty put up with so much nonsense from Archie and his obsession with Veronica, or his indecision in general between them. In Ethel’s mind, Betty was pretty, sweet, and could do so much better if she tried, or stepped out of her safe little box. She’d never tell her that, because she was such a great friend, and she’d never burst her bubble. Ethel knew how that felt…
Cheryl would be there. That much, Ethel knew. Rumor had it she was going with Jason’s friend Cedric, whom Ethel couldn’t stand, since he wasn’t any better than the Blossom twins or any of the other snooty kids at Pembroke. Veronica still ran in those circles from time to time, but she had no loyalty to Cheryl, and she had new sympathy, and even respect for Ethel in the wake of the “Alex” fiasco. Ethel still wasn’t used to the idea of Veronica giving her the time of day, and she remembered how she used to whisper about her behind her hand in the lunch line or when they played duck-duck-goose in third grade PE. But people changed, or so Ethel hoped.
This was her night to feel pretty and to belong. This was her night to have one last hurrah with her friends and to kiss this phase of her life goodbye. Her hands shook as she struggled with her mascara and the eye shadow brush, but she felt a little more confident as she applied a raisin matte pout and turned to the side, smoothing her palms over her flat abdomen, savoring the smooth, slick fabric.
She was ready.
*
Moose fidgeted one last time and toyed with his collar before he rang the doorbell. His palms were sweating, making the plastic flower box feel slippery in his grip. Prickles rose up his nape as he heard hurried footsteps inside, and he held his breath. I’ll get it! He heard his girlfriend’s familiar, excited alto, and he felt relieved that she was going to answer the door. Anticipation almost made his heart stop as the inner door swung open in a rush, making the hinge squeal.
“Oh, shit,” he murmured before he could stop himself. “Um. Wow. Hi.”
“Hi,” Ethel breathed, and she smiled at him nervously. “Look at you!”
“Look at you.” And he was looking at her, eyes roaming over her appreciatively and in quiet awe. Her hand nervously twitched her filmy, short, flared skirt that revealed long, long, shapely legs. All he saw was red, and Ethel’s creamy skin, more of it than usual, and he felt his briefs beneath his dress slacks grow uncomfortably tight.
He was adorable. Not just handsome, but as nervous as she was, but the way he was staring at her made Ethel want to burst, to hug him, to kiss him senseless, until her father cleared her throat in warning from behind her.
“Got your hair cut,” he noted.
“Yessir.”
“C’mon in. Time for pictures. Want a drink? Soda? Water before you two take off?”
“No, sir.”
“Let me get my camera!” Ethel’s mother practically fainted and made such a big fuss when Ethel came down the stairs that she almost ran back up and slammed her door behind her. She was embarrassed and tickled pink at the same time, but her heart was still hammering in her chest.
Seeing Moose, feeling him take her hand and tuck it in the crook of his arm for the first shot was worth it. She felt the pulse in his wrist jump, practically felt his heartbeat in his grip. It was heady and made her cheeks flush with pride. “Smile!” her father encouraged. Her mother made motions from the sidelines, motioning for Ethel to pull her neckline up. Ethel wanted to sink into the ground, but she complied, making a face back.
More pictures were snapped, candids of Ethel’s mom handing her the tiny red evening bag and of Moose pinning on her corsage and Ethel doing the honors with his boutonniere. “You guys are like my own paparazzi,” she told them. “Can we go now?”
“Drive carefully.” Her father gave her a careful kiss so he wouldn’t smudge her makeup. “I don’t want to smell alcohol when you come home. I’ll be calling Veronica’s parents. And Betty’s.”
“No wild parties at anyone’s houses,” her mother added sternly.
“The cops will be out all night, anyway,” Ethel grumbled.
“We’ll behave,” Moose added dryly. Ethel’s father lifted his brow. “I’ll behave,” he corrected himself.
It was tricky, as usual, for Ethel to climb up into his truck gracefully in the short dress, but she managed, and Moose turned on the A/C to avoid rolling down a window, so he wouldn’t muss her hair. Ethel buckled her seatbelt, but she promptly leaned in toward him for a kiss, wiping off her lipstick from his cheek.
“You look hot.”
“So do you.” His hand drifted over from the gear shift after he tugged it over to second to stroke her knee, giving her goosebumps.
“Can we just skip the dance and go somewhere so I can get you out of that dress?”
“One-track mind much?”
“You can’t blame me. Damn it, Bee.” He growled his approval at her and laughter bubbled up in her chest.
“I like your haircut.” She gently combed her fingers through the back of it. “You’re so handsome in that tux.”
“Eh.”
“I mean it.”
“Do I look good enough that you wanna bone me after the dance? Can we leave early?”
“MOOSE!”
“For real.”
“We’re not leaving early,” she complained, but then she had second thoughts. “Maybe we’ll leave a little early,” she amended. “It depends on how it is when we get there, I guess.”
“It’ll be fun,” he reasoned as he took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers and squeezing them. He peered over at her, and he hated the worried look on her face. “Quit making a fuss.”
“I’m scared.”
“Why?” He was baffled.
“People are going to talk about me.”
“So? What else is new? We’re not allowed to go to the fucking prom because of a few people running their mouths?” Moose was indignant at the thought, but he tread lightly on the subject, since it was a tender one with his girlfriend. “It’s the prom. We’re not missing it. You’re not missing it.”
“It was so embarrassing. I can’t believe he actually did that to me.” She didn’t say Alex’s name out loud, because she still couldn’t.
“I wouldn’t let him. I’d never let him.” Moose turned onto the freeway at Maple Avenue and turned on his signal, merging into the growing traffic. He saw a few cars he recognized and waved and honked.
“I liked her dress,” Ethel commented as she waved to a girl she knew who was hanging her head out the window in her effort to get their attention.
“I like yours.”
“Thanks.”
“What’s it look like laying on the floor?”
“MOOSE!”
“I’m serious!”
“You’re a horn dog!”
“You don’t mind,” he pointed out, leering at her.
“Keep your eyes on the road, buddy.” But her hand crept to his thigh, and she massaged it through the smooth black slacks. A sudden erection made him strain the seams and Moose shuddered. He caught her hand to make her stop, lacing their fingers together again as a safety measure.
“Watch those hands, sister.” They made it to the resort without further incident, but they both almost wished they had stayed home together in front of a movie, in pajamas… or less.
*
“I knew homegirl would be late,” Nancy grumbled as they met in the lobby and the hostess showed them to their table out on the patio.
“She’s texting me now,” Betty piped up as she stared into the tiny screen of her Verizon phone. “She’s at Maria’s house, lending her a necklace. She already took pictures at home. I guess Reggie’s meeting her later.” Betty sounded slightly smug and she practically purred as Archie leaned his chin against her shoulder to stare with her at the text. Ethel mentally rolled her eyes, and she and Moose shared a look.
They ordered food that they never would have thought to eat otherwise, figuring it was a rare treat, and Ethel decided she could do without escargot if anyone ever offered it to her again. The crème brulee wasn’t a disappointment, though, and she was envious of Moose’s porterhouse steak. They saw a few of their friends at neighboring tables, and several girls came up to say hi and show off their finery.
“I love your dress,” Cricket chirped. The tiny redhead was decked out in emerald green, not surprisingly, and she’d gone heavy on the foundation to hide her freckles, but Ethel thought she looked nice.
“Thanks!”
“Where’s Midge?” she piped up, puzzled for the moment. Ethel winced, but Moose recovered the moment quickly.
“She made other plans.”
“Then who are you with?” she asked cluelessly. Ethel raised her hand and smiled sheepishly. “Oh. Right.” Moose leaned back in his seat and held Ethel’s hand under the table. Cricket turned bright red.
“That was awkward,” Ethel muttered after she left.
“She isn’t asking you about whatshisname,” Nancy pointed out. “And isn’t it nice that there’s someone that isn’t totally informed and talking about you like a dog?”
“She might be now,” Ethel said bitterly.
“Pfft. Whatever, girl. You look fine,” Chuck mentioned.
“Don’t get any ideas,” Nancy told him, cutting her eyes, “o-kay?” He held up his hands and shook his head helplessly, giving Ethel a “see what you made me do?” look. Betty and Archie snickered and Ethel blushed for what felt like the millionth time that night.
*
Dinner helped; she didn’t feel as ginned up and nervous by the time they reached the high school’s courtyard. Moose offered to let her out at the curb while he parked, but she declined. “You’re going up there with me,” she insisted.
“I know that!”
“Then don’t throw me out to the lions.”
“We’ll bring ketchup,” he suggested. He took her hand and kissed her knuckles, then lightly bit one. “Damn, you look hot…”
“Quit it,” she scolded, because it was becoming more difficult to put him off. Moose felt the electricity sparking between them, and with a wicked look in his blue eyes, he leaned over and unfastened her seatbelt. “Uh-oh,” she muttered in mock alarm. She knew that look.
He was on her, not caring about her lipstick, sliding his hands around her tiny waist and letting his blunt nails run down her back, a provocative sensation over the satin and chiffon. He kissed her hard, and their breath mingled, steaming her lips and making her body temperature rise another two degrees. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. “We’ve gotta go.” But she didn’t want to go, not when he was attacking her neck, nipping it, tasting it, sucking on it just shy of a hickey. She had to restrain herself from mussing his hair when she wanted to run her fingers through the short blond waves.
“Sure you still wanna go in?”
“We have to. We’re already here.”
“That’s not fair,” he complained into her ear as he licked the whorls. Ethel shuddered with need. His cologne and the taste of his skin was intoxicating, and he toyed with her neckline, slipping his finger just inside the pleated bodice and unerringly finding her stiff, tingling nipple.
“No, you’re being unfair,” she rationalized. “We paid for the damned tickets. You rented a tux.”
“Let’s get this over with,” he complained, but Ethel could tell he was kidding. “God, Bee, you’re such a horn dog.” She swatted him, and he got out and came around to open her door and help her out. Ethel checked herself in his rearview one last time and fixed her lipstick.
She missed his, however, and Chuck was quick to pick up on it when they met them at the courtyard, where everyone was lining up to get in at the ticket desk. “That ain’t your color, man.”
“Shit!” Moose struggled to wipe off his upper lip and Ethel buried her face behind her hand, snickering under her breath.
“Geez, Ethel, just attack him, for cryin’ out loud,” Betty accused.
“Oh, I see how it is, take separate cars, go make out in the parking lot while we’re waiting on your behinds,” Nancy added, folding her arms beneath her breasts.
“I didn’t hear you guys saying you wanted to share cars,” Ethel shot back. “Yeah, that’s what I thought!” She elbowed Betty and all of them cracked up. The tension left her, and Ethel started to have a good time.
“There’s Cheryl,” Nancy murmured. “Don’t turn around yet.”
“Ugh,” Ethel muttered, and her stomach instantly knotted up again. She didn’t want to see the conceited, spiteful redhead. She caught her from the back and tsked when she noticed her cutting in line with her friends who were about thirty people in front of their group.
“What a bitch,” Betty said, wrinkling her nose.
“Are you surprised?” Nancy sure wasn’t. “Girlfriend thinks her shit don’t stank.”
“It’s stanky,” Ethel agreed. Moose’s hand crept to her waist, resting there just to remind her that he was there, and she leaned back against him slightly, absorbing his warmth and scent.
Midge walked by next, and she caught sight of them, making Ethel’s breath catch. Ethel forced herself to look away. Don’t come over here. Just ignore me. She chanted it like a litany to herself, trying to be casual and pretend she was just watching the crowd and looking for familiar faces.
It didn’t help. Midge was coming her way, expression neutral and polite. “What time did you guys get here?” she asked Betty.
“Just now. We ended up parking all the way in the back.”
“We got here a half an hour ago. We ended up at Rose’s Tavern,” she bragged. “Teddy’s already inside.” She ended up going with a friend of Jughead’s cousin Bingo’s, who admittedly was a bit of a hound, but he had dark good looks and he’d show her a good time. Going with Reggie was out of the question; they weren’t speaking, and Veronica agreed to go with him when Archie asked Betty first.
“I like your dress.” Midge’s words directed her way shocked Ethel out of her musings.
“Oh. Thanks. You, too.”
“My mom convinced me to get this one instead of the red, but everyone’s wearing black tonight,” Midge complained of her long, tapered black gown with a red sash. The length and cut made the tiny brunette look taller, and her short, spiky haircut made the look edgy and glam. She was right, Ethel supposed; everyone always wore black on prom night.
“Where are you guys going after?” she asked her ex, who was holding on to Ethel’s hand suspiciously tight. She felt him tense and sighed under her breath.
“Don’t know yet.”
“We might end up at Ron’s for a little bit,” Betty informed her.
“Us, too. See you there,” she said hopefully, but Moose and Ethel didn’t agree to be there.
It was still up in the air.
Ethel murmured, “Wow.”
“What?”
“I wasn’t expecting that.”
“It’s no big deal,” Moose shrugged.
“It could have been.”
“She knows not to talk shit,” Moose claimed.
“I hate drama.”
“Folks around here act like they love it,” Nancy said in disgust. “Don’t even sweat it, girl.” Nancy dug in her purse and handed all of them a piece of Trident while they waited in line. Once in a while, Ethel caught Midge staring after them, and she tried to smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
She didn’t know why she was worrying about Midge.
Moose didn’t want her back. It was obvious by the way he stayed close to Ethel and didn’t encourage the conversation or suggest they meet up later. Even though it seemed like Midge was still interested, she wasn’t flirty or making much of an effort. A mean little voice in her head screamed, If she wanted him back, she could take him from her. They were together for a long time, and Midge had a lot going for her.
But it hit her, suddenly, as she watched Midge meeting up with her date and giggling at something he said. Midge wasn’t the beginning and end of Moose’s universe anymore. Midge was the kind of girl who could have anybody, but that wasn’t always the kind of girl a guy wanted to call his own, if he felt he couldn’t. For all Ethel’s lack of flash and glamour, she was loyal, and she didn’t play games. She’d gone for too long “without” to take any relationship she had for granted when it came along.
And it had. Moose had done a complete one-eighty. No more furtive meetings or acting like they weren’t dating. Moose finally brought their status as a couple out into the open, and he finally behaved like he was proud of it, and Ethel couldn’t be happier.
That is, until they made it inside. Ethel decided she wanted to adjust her lipstick just one last time…
*
She left Nancy and Betty by the punch bowl, talking animatedly with Sabrina and Samantha. Moose found his buddies from the softball team in typical fashion, eschewing the dance floor in favor of bragging about scores and trying out for the local semi-pro team, the Riverdale Wranglers, over the summer. Ethel didn’t notice the sensation of venomous eyes staring down, stabbing into her retreating back. She hummed to herself as she made her way into the rest room. Her lipstick was almost perfect; she checked her teeth for any stray streaks and neatened the corner of her mouth. She gave her neckline a quick check and hitched it up a bit, covering the edge of her strapless underwire bra. The more she saw herself in the flirty red formal, the more she liked it, even if her nagging little voice told her that it made her collarbones look knobby.
She was just fluffing her bangs when the rest room door swished open quickly, sweeping in the cloying, sweet cloud of Curve. “Look what the cat dragged in,” Cheryl’s voice snapped from over her shoulder. Ethel caught sight of her in the mirror behind her, and she averted her eyes, busying herself with putting away her lipstick.
Cheryl didn’t get the message. “You look like a tramp. A homely, desperate tramp.”
“You’re calling me a tramp?” Ethel scoffed dryly. “Back up, Cher.”
“Why did you lie and tell everyone that Alex came on to you? Why would he ever be interested in you?” She emphasized the last word as though she were describing dog shit. Ethel fumed.
“He didn’t come on to me. He attacked me and tried to force himself on me. You don’t get it, do you? Alex Cabot is a creepy bastard and a rapist.”
“How dare you open your fucking mouth!” Cheryl hissed. High spots of color rose up in her cheeks, and Ethel was pleased to see that her scowl made her less attractive, despite an expensive up-do and a peach gown that Ethel knew was couture. “He was MY boyfriend! My parents won’t let me see him anymore because of what you did to him!”
“So it doesn’t matter what he did to me? He wouldn’t want me because I’m not like you? Please, bitch!” Cheryl looked shocked, and before she could recover, Ethel lit into her. “You think the sun rises and sets on your ass, Cheryl. And that makes you pathetic. You think because you have a rich boyfriend that you can lead around by the nose that he isn’t looking anywhere else, but he looked at me. Not only that, but Alex doesn’t want you to know that he liked me a long time ago. He didn’t want anyone else to know, either. I’m ashamed of it, now. I don’t know why you’re so proud, and why you think he’s such a catch, but you must be pretty desperate.”
“ME?” Her mouth gaped. “The hell I am! Look at you! You’re with MOOSE? Fucking Moose MASON? He’s retarded! Of course he likes you, because he’s… STUPID! Why the hell would he break up with Midge, just to be with YOU??? Not only that, but you thought you could steal Alex?”
“Wow. You’re full of yourself.”
“Everyone knows how easy you are,” Cheryl said, gloating. “Big, skinny, desperate, boy crazy Ethel Muggs. Moose wouldn’t have touched you with a ten-foot-pole before you told him you’d put out-“
Ethel’s hand stung and burned with the slap that echoed through the bathroom. Everything seemed to fall away except for the sound of her own harsh breathing and the look of stunned outrage on Cheryl’s face, the darkening red handprint on her cheek. Her mouth worked, pushing out no words, and she looked like she wanted to round on Ethel, but Ethel held up her hand in warning. “Don’t. Even. Try it.”
“Bitch,” Cheryl hissed. Tears welled up in her eyes.
“You called Moose stupid, and I won’t stand for it. Call me desperate, or ugly, or anything else you want. I don’t care. Your opinion doesn’t mean crap to me, Cheryl Blossom. I’ve tried. I’ve always tried to stay under the radar of people like you. You get your kicks from putting me and people like me down to make yourself feel bigger. You fucking have everything, but you still have to build yourself up by giving the ‘ugly girl’ a hard time.”
“SHUT UP!” Cheryl blurted. Her finger stabbed the air, pointing straight into Ethel’s face, but Ethel gave her a warning hand again, making it easy for her to believe that she meant business when the brunette towered over her, more than ever in heels. “Alex said you used to chase him around and call him. You wouldn’t leave him alone.”
“After the third call, I gave up, Cher. He was a flake. How do you think I got his number? Huh? Alex used me and blew me off. Then he went to Pembroke, and I thought I’d at least be lucky enough never to run into him again, but then he came back here, and you two hooked up. Two people never deserved each other more than you two. God, you both suck.”
“You’re lying! I know you’re lying. He used you. How dare you?”
“Why? Because he can do so much better than me? He’s a guy, Cheryl. Give me a break.” It was like a second slap in the face. Cheryl let out a low, strangled sob and shoved Ethel roughly out of the way as she ran out of the bathroom. Ethel stumbled against the sink but recovered. Still, she felt a sense of shame. Now Cheryl knew her dirty little secret, and she felt like shit.
But she pried it out of her. She just kept pushing, and pushing, and pushing, and Ethel wasn’t supposed to push back? Ethel leaned over the sink and let her head drop a moment, closing her eyes and trying to get back her composure.
People would talk. They were probably already talking. It sucked. Couldn’t she have a drama-free night out?
She heard the door swing open again, and this time, Betty, Nancy, and Veronica rushed inside. “Girl, what happened? Why did Miss Thang come running outta here like her weave was on fire?”
“Did you hit her?” Veronica whispered conspiratorially. Her dark eyes gleamed at the possibility. Ethel sighed.
“My hand slipped.
“Ooh!” Nancy clapped her hand over her mouth. “Girl, do you wanna end up getting thrown out of prom?”
“There’s two weeks left of school. They’d still have to mail you your diploma,” Betty reasoned. Ethel paled. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. Now I feel a whole lot better.”
“What did she say, Ethel?” Ronnie demanded. She listened with half an ear while she checked her own hair in the mirror and spritzed on some more perfume.
“She was just running her mouth. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Aw, no. We need to hear this. If you slapped the daylights out of Cheryl ‘My shit don’t stank’ Blossom, we want details, woman.”
“She called Moose retarded.”
“That’s messed up.”
“Ouch,” Betty murmured. “What a shitty thing to say.”
“Moose has his slow moments, girl, but that’s just because he’s male, not because he’s dumb.” Veronica and Betty snickered and Ethel rolled her eyes.
“Everyone’s going to be talking about this all night.”
“So?”
“I don’t know if I even want to stay now.”
“Don’t run out of here like Cheryl drove you out, or that’s all people will say. She doesn’t control you. She doesn’t have the power to make you unhappy unless you let her, Ethel Muggs.” Nancy shared her usual font of wisdom while she straightened her skirt, then turned in the bathroom door mirror in the classic “Does this make my butt look big?” gesture over the shoulder.
“I heard she’s going to Europe this summer,” Veronica added. “It’s not like you’ll see much of her after this.” Inwardly, she gloated that she was going to Europe, too, for a tour of the couture houses to shop for her fall wardrobe. She couldn’t wait for her first semester at Stanford, and visions of sorority sweaters danced in her head.
“It’s not like you’ll see much of anybody after the summer,” Nancy pointed out. All four of them grew contemplative at the thought. Ethel felt a squeezing in her chest.
“Wow.” The brief thought crossed her mind that she and Moose were going to separate schools. She had three short months before the unthinkable.
And she was wasting it on worrying about what Cheryl Blossom thought. It hit her like a sack of hammers that she had bigger things to think about.
Nancy was right. Just like always, she was right. After tonight, she was home free. She didn’t have to worry about who was gossiping about her, people staring at her Monday morning based on “I heard from a friend of a friend” about what she did, or didn’t do, on her weekends. She wasn’t “fair game” anymore. Her mind reeled at the possibilities.
“I’ll see you guys in a while.”
“Where are you going, girlfriend?” Nancy folded her arms again and gave her the stink-eye.
“I’m going to go make out with Moose in public. And I’m going to rub everyone’s nose in it.”
Veronica huffed. “Nice.”
*
“Wanna explain to me why Cheryl threw a fit a few minutes ago?”
“No.”
“Whaddya mean, ‘no?’” His blond brows drew together, and he pulled back from her for a moment, staring. “Should I be worried?”
“No.”
“Are you gonna get arrested?”
“I hope not.” Her voice was calm, and she drew him back down to her, forcing herself to enjoy her favorite slow song and to tune out the surrounding noise of the crowd, and what she knew were whispers.
“That sounds dubious.” Ethel chuckled; it was one of the words on the verbal portion of the entrance tests, and it sounded funny coming out of his mouth. “I don’t trust that laugh, either, Bee.”
“Ya don’t wanna know.”
“You sure you’re not gonna get arrested?”
“No one can prove anything.”
“Geez…” Moose pretended to cringe. Ethel tightened her arms around his neck, and she was pleased to feel his warm palms stroking her back, pulling her more deeply into his embrace.
From around his shoulder, she noticed her friends out on the floor. Betty was rapt, focused on nothing else but Archie, which didn’t surprise her. Veronica and Reggie were easily matched, both smooth, practiced dancers, but their choice to go to the prom together was one of mutual convenience. Ethel periodically noticed Reggie staring at Archie and Betty, wondering what the big deal was, when it hit her: Reggie liked Betty.
And Betty didn’t have a clue.
She knew she was right. There. He did it again, when Veronica was distracted by one of their friends calling out to her from the border of the dance floor. She wasn’t just imagining it.
She noticed Jughead, and for a moment she didn’t believe her eyes. She’d never seen him at any dance before, but what was more remarkable was his date. “Bridget?”
“Huh?”
“Juggie came with Bridget?”
“So? He’s been into her for a while. You didn’t know?”
“No!”
“She’s cool, I guess,” Moose allowed. “She likes to eat as much as he does.”
“That’s not nice, Moose.”
“Naw. I don’t mean it that way. But it’s true. You know Jughead. And she likes him, from what I hear. He goes to all of her shows. I’ve seen them at Pop’s a few times already.” Ethel still couldn’t believe her eyes. Jughead wore a black tux with a brocade vest and green tie underneath. Bridget wore a green dress with a snug bodice and long, flowing skirt, and her light brown hair was piled on her head. She had plump curves, but she looked proud of them, and Bridget and Juggie were a study in opposites, with him being dark, tall and lean with sharper features. They looked comfortable together and happy, another odd couple like her and Moose.
It felt odd, seeing him with someone else after she’d liked him for so long, but Ethel didn’t feel jealous. If anything, it hammered home her surprise that she’d chased him so much before.
“By the way,” Moose interjected, “quit changing the subject.”
“I’m not.”
“What happened with Cheryl?”
“She was talking shit.” Moose stiffened.
“Do you want me to go talk to her?”
“No, Moose. Please.” The corners of his mouth hardened, but Ethel shook her head adamantly. “I handled it myself.”
“I’m scared when you say stuff like that, Bee.”
“Don’t be.” Ethel almost wanted to tell him If I didn’t slap her, someone else eventually would have. It was long overdue…
They were absorbed in each other, and Ethel blushed when Miss Grundy tapped them on the shoulder for getting too “comfortable”, but it was difficult when she wanted him so much, when his offer to sneak back to his truck tempted her enough to want to take him up on it.
Mr. Wetherbee headed for the microphone set up on the dais, and he tapped it briefly to bring all eyes on him. “Good evening,” he announced. “I hope you’re all having a good time tonight!” Cheers and whistles greeted him, and he made “calm down” motions with his hands, but he looked amused. “I’d like to welcome the Class of 2011 and the future Class of 2012 to Riverdale High School’s Junior/Senior prom!” He ignored a cat call of “Shake it, Waldo!” and pointed an accusing finger into the crowd, making “I’ve got my eye on you” gestures knowingly; he’d done this job for a long time.
“It’s time for the promenade. I want every senior couple to line up and walk in a circle around basketball court B and face the stage on your way over. The judging for this year’s prom queen and escort is about to begin. Get ready to smile, ladies. You all look fantastic tonight.” He gestured to the deejay to play the prom’s theme song, and it blasted from the speakers as the lights went down again, with a spot light that shone in front of the judge’s table.
Ethel felt nervous. She hated being under scrutiny, and she begged Moose, “Do we have to do this?”
“Heck, yeah. I look good.” He smirked. She rolled her eyes. He took her hand and looped it over the crook of his arm, and they moved into the line. They made their way around the court as part of the crowd, and Ethel noticed Veronica, Cheryl, and a few of the other girls from the cheerleading team nudging their way toward the front and showing off when they reached the table. Cheryl wasn’t the worse for wear, now that she had the chance to be the center of attention again, and she vamped for the judges, doing a theatrical little turn; her date looked amused and bored.
She tolerated her time in the spotlight as briefly as possible, giving the judges a shy wave. They nodded and smiled back, but Ethel knew she hadn’t impressed them much. That was fine. She didn’t have anything to prove.
Did she?
No. She didn’t. When the song ended, the judging was officially over, and the Gorillaz found her tugging Moose back out onto the floor. Over the next hour, half the girls were reduced to dancing in their stocking feet, high heels abandoned in the bleachers, sweat beading their skin, hairstyles loosening up from layers of Aqua Net. Boys loosened their ties and left their tuxedo jackets hanging over the backs of chairs, and the punch bowls emptied faster than they could be refilled.
By the time Mr. Wetherbee took the mic again, everyone was restless and impatient. They greeted him with cheers and stamping feet this time, and it took a longer time to get everyone quiet so he could make his announcement. “If you quiet down, I can tell you who your Prom Queen and her court are for 2011,” he suggested dryly. A couple more cat calls greeted this, but he eventually saved them from the suspense.
“The first attendant in the Prom Queen’s court is…” he hesitated a moment, peering smugly around the crowd, enjoying the chance for payback, “Nancy Woods!” Nancy covered her mouth in shock before she began hopping down. Ethel laughed when she saw Chuck making fist pumps and slapping Archie a high-five. Nancy was fanning herself, trying not to cry.
“Damn, girl! They called my name!” she cried to Betty.
“Get up there!” Betty squeed as she shoved her in the general direction of the dais. Miss Grundy handed her the sash, helping her to fasten it over her shoulder. Mr. Wetherbee nodded over to her.
“Congratulations, Nancy.” He went back to his index cards. “The second attendant in this year’s court is…” Ethel held her breath. “Midge Klump!” Her stomach squeezed in grudging disappointment. Sure. Why wouldn’t she get it? Ethel sighed, and Moose nudged her.
“Aw. C’mere.” He wrapped his arms around her waist, and she settled back against him.
“It’s no big deal.”
“It isn’t.” He leaned down and murmured into her ear, “You still look hot.”
That helped.
She peered around the gym, and she noticed Veronica and Cheryl looking equally anxious, straining at the seams. It was what both of them worked for over the past four years, she figured. Both of them earned superlatives in the yearbook and were always the most frequently photographed. Best Smile. Most Popular. Most Attractive. Best School Spirit, even though Cheryl always ran her mouth about how much better Pembroke was. It got old.
“The last attendant in this year’s court is…” Everyone waited with bated breath. Ethel figured she couldn’t be anymore disappointed going forward for the rest of the night, but she’d survived an ugly encounter in the girl’s room – “Veronica Lodge?”
“WHAT?” Veronica’s yelp was aghast and comical. “What…he…that’s…FOUL! I call FOUL!” Betty covered her mouth.
“She looks pissed.”
“She IS pissed,” Moose confirmed. “That’s not good.”
“That’s BULLSHIT! I demand a recount!”
“We didn’t vote,” Betty reminded her kindly. She wrapped her arm around her bestie soothingly. “C’mon. Go get your sash.”
“I can’t believe this,” she said miserably. Betty shrugged.
“I didn’t make it to the court,” she pointed out. “You’ll still be in the yearbook. There’s still the Miss Riverdale County contest this July,” she said hopefully.
“I need a drink,” Veronica deadpanned. “Shit. Let me go get this over with.”
“Good job, Ronnie,” Ethel called after her. She was disappointed that Betty hadn’t gotten a nod, but Betty was snuggled up to Archie and, as usual, being a good sport. Ethel supposed she couldn’t be surprised.
So that left Cheryl. Ethel saw Cheryl drifting closer to the dais with her friends in tow, straightening her hair and skirt. Ethel felt a surge of restlessness for Mr. Wetherbee to just get on with it, already.
“And this year’s Prom Queen of 2011 is…” Jughead was on the Zildjian set that had been assembled off to the side of the dais, giving the prerequisite drum roll. “…Miss ETHEL MUGGS!”
“WHAT?” She found herself being spun around, and Moose was in her face, grinning and giving her a little shake.
“Get up there! They called you! Go, GO!”
“Shut. Up.”
“Get up there!”
“I can’t!” Ethel heard a sea of noise closing in on her and thought she would faint. Her heart hammered and her feet felt rooted to the ground.
“Yes, you can, Ethel. Get up there,” Betty encouraged. Nancy was hopping up and down at the dais while Midge and Veronica stood gaping.
“Come on up here, girl!” Nancy bellowed. “Come and get that crown!”
“Go,” Moose encouraged. He kissed her cheek and gave her lower back a little push.
“Come with me,” she mouthed. He nodded, following her, and all she felt was dazed.
She heard a few cat calls, but people were cheering. Things like this just didn’t happen to her. Never to her. Ethel Lorraine Muggs, candy apple maker, fifty-yard dash runner, chess club member and class nerd.
Ethel Lorraine Muggs, Prom Queen of 2011.
The tiara almost slipped off when Mr. Wetherbee reached up to place it on her head; Miss Grundy and Ethel were of a height, and her English teacher straightened it for her and handed her the bouquet of red and white roses. The satin sash felt cool against her bare shoulder, and she twitched it into place before she sat on the throne for the photographs.
Cheryl was beside herself. “No. Way.”
“Just run away now, man,” Jason told Cedric, elbowing him. “This is gonna get ugly in a minute.”
“They elected HER?”
“Ouch…” Cedric winced. “Man. Beaten by a townie.”
“Beaten by Big Ethel,” Jason corrected him. “What’s wrong with this school, dude?”
“I spent…two thousand… dollars on THIS dress… I had my hair done, a silk wrap on my nails… an oxygen facial…” Cheryl listed a litany of feats that it took her to get to the prom, voice shaking. Her green eyes sparked with venom as she ranted to her friends. “And they elected HER?”
“Now what’s she going on about?” Veronica tsked, not owning that she sounded just as petty mere minutes before. She gloated a little as she turned her runner-up sash in her hands, toying with it.
“Karma,” Nancy said simply. Chuck shrugged.
“Karma,” he agreed.
“You’re all blind!” Cheryl spat in the teachers’ general direction. “She looks like Mr. Ed!”
“Cher, shut up!” Reggie jeered. “Get over yourself!”
“Fuck you, Mantle!” she hissed, looking like she wanted to hit him with her shoe. He bade her to “talk to the hand” and ignored her. Cheryl’s friends surrounded her in a protective little enclave, but their number was dwindling. After the next three songs played, they began to tune her out, only listening to how unfairly she’d been treated with half an ear. Cedric took up residence by the punch bowl, hanging out with his friends and checking his watch. Several teachers watched the drama unfolding around them, shaking their heads.
“Ten years from now, they won’t care about any of this,” Miss Grundy sighed.
“They don’t know how easy they have it now,” Miss Haggly agreed. “Drinks at Grady’s after this is over?”
“Make it a double.” Mr. Flutesnoot ran his hand over his bald spot and he looked exhausted. “Too much drama. I’m getting too old for this.”
*
Ethel hardly remembered the rest of the night; it went by in a blur. She handed back the tiara but staggered out to Moose’s truck with her sash looped over arm, already tired of carrying the bouquet. Moose took it briefly as he let her into his truck, then laid it across her lap as he gently shut the door. Ethel’s feet throbbed, and she kicked off her shoes gratefully.
“Roll down the window.” They turned out of the lot and gradually broke free of the long line of cars filing out of the lot.
“Don’t mind messing up your hair?”
“I don’t have anyone else to impress. I can’t wait to get out of all this.”
“I thought we were going to Ron’s.”
“Do you feel like it?”
“No,” he admitted.
“So now what?” She looked at him pointedly, and when he faced her, the shadows between street lights were passing over her fair skin and making her grey eyes gleam.
“I’m not ready to take you home yet, Ethel.”
*
They ended up stopping at a convenience store for some soda and chips, and Moose picked up a cheap flannel throw blanket from the novelty items in the back. Ethel waited in the truck, musing. Moose looked slightly mussed, dress shirt wrinkled, tie loosened from its impeccable knot.
He was desirable to her, sexy, uncomplicated, very male, and very sweet. She turned on the radio, and Ethel smiled when she heard her favorite slow song again. Moose strode outside carrying a plastic bag and chugging down a Gatorade. Ethel eyed it enviously; she was parched. “Got another one of those?”
“Got you a Coke. Is that okay?” Ethel was already unscrewing the cap and taking a grateful swallow.
“Man, that’s good,” she sighed. He turned on the ignition again and checked the flow of traffic in his rearview as he merged with traffic coming out of the lot. “Where are we headed?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“Please tell me?”
“Chill. Drink your Coke.” His look was mischievous.
“Hmmmm…” She drank the cola and rooted through the rest of the bag. She was curious when he chucked the blanket into the back of the truck, but her suspicions were confirmed when she found a small box under the can of Pringles and bag of gummy worms that was too small to be Twizzlers and too big to be gum. The shiny lettering winked up at her as she read the words “lubricated with nonoxynol-9, barrier contraceptive.”
“Moose!’ She swatted him.
“We don’t have to worry about looking good anymore,” he shrugged.
“Uh-huh,” Ethel accused, smirking.
They turned back toward the resort. “Why are we coming back here?”
“There’s a spot nearby where we can hang out.” It was off the beaten path. Ethel was curious as they drove away from the picnic area roughly two miles from the restaurant. Her stomach churned with anticipation and she munched on a couple of Pringles to distract herself.
But she forced herself to enjoy the drive and relax, and soon she had the top portion of her seatbelt pushed off her shoulder so she could rest her head against Moose’s shoulder, and he drove one-handed to let himself wrap his arm around her. Their time together was at a premium, and he was ticking down a silent countdown to when he knew he’d have to take her home.
They found an unmarked path to the lake and parked off the road, deep in the brush. Moose cut off the engine and beckoned to her to get out for a minute. He flipped her seat down and reached into the compartment behind it. Ethel watched in amusement as he pulled out a sleeping roll and a couple of pillows. “Aha,” she accused.
“I knew we wouldn’t be able to get a hotel tonight.”
“My parents would have killed me if we tried.” She watched him shuck the tie and toss it onto the seat. He helped her up into the truck bed after he laid out the sleeping bag and unzipped it, opening it out to make a blanket space wide enough for two. They laid back on the pillows and stared up at the sky. Moose turned on his phone and opened up his playlist at low volume. “It’s beautiful out here.”
“You cold?”
“A little.” He pulled her to lie against him, and she dissolved into his warm bulk, content. His heartbeat thudded under her cheek, and she felt it quicken slightly when he grazed her hairline with his lips. “Tonight was great. Scary, but great.”
“I still don’t know why you were scared, Bee.”
“Same reason I’m always scared. But now I don’t know why, anymore.”
“About what people think?”
“About what they think, what they say…”
“I think you’re amazing,” he confessed as he watched the clouds shift to reveal more stars. “And I’m telling you that-“ He wasn’t expecting her to struggle up from him and kiss him into silence, and Moose groaned, tangling his fingers in her short dark hair and encouraging her to spread herself out over him.
They had more time to explore each other, and their kisses were hot, slow and deep. Ethel tried to argue that they needed to get home, but her resistance faded away when Moose told her “I just need to see you.” She needed to see him, too, and she dismissed the random thought that her dress would be a wreck later as he unzipped the bodice, lowering it to better savor her. Soon, she was moving plaintively beneath him, no more barriers between them, and the sensation of skin on skin undid her.
She heard the crinkle of foil in the dark, the telltale snap of latex, and he loomed over, broad, powerful and solid, skin warm and firm beneath her touch. “Please, Moose…”
“I want you,” he rasped. She nodded, giving in to the inevitable as he kissed her one last time in a bid for permission. Her palm cradled his cheek.
“I love you, Moose.” He bowed his face into her neck and let his lips play over her sensitive flesh. “I love you, Moose,” she repeated, worried for a moment that she’d ruined the moment.
She dismissed her worry as he moved against her, his erection butting insistently against her, and the air between them grew sultry and charged. Her long legs scissored around his waist and her fingernails grazed his back. His fingers found her sweet spots and toyed with them; she saw stars behind her closed lids when his teeth just barely closed around her nipple.
They’d only been together once before, and Moose wanted to remind her of his passion for her, how crazy she made him and make up for their past awkwardness. He entered her in one hard, smooth thrust and he heard her hiss in shock, but then moan as he began to move. The truck bed was still hard on his knees and beneath her back, and she was getting a touch of rug burn from the flannel lining of the sleeping back, but he felt so good, stretching her, pushing into her and sending pressure and heat to all of the right places.
“Damn it,” he hissed as he felt himself getting close. “Feel so good,” he rasped out. Sweat beaded up on his skin as they arched into each other. The sight of his cock sheathing itself in her dark, soft nest in the dark was erotic, and she felt incredible, yielding and hot wrapped around him. The sounds rising from her throat were growing more frantic and higher in pitch, and he sped up, needing more friction and to hear her call his name again.
“I love you, Moose!” There were those words again, about to undo him. “Oh, God…” Her voice came out in short little gasps, music to his ears as he began to pound into her.
“Please,” he rasped. Please. Not yet. He was hanging on by a thread, feeling himself growing painfully tight and engorged. He needed to send her over the edge. “Ethel.” There was a note of desperation in his husky voice and she clung to him. “Ethel.” Her name never sounded so good to her own ears. His thrusts grew harder, jolting her insides and building with heat.
“I love you.”
“I love you.” His hips jerked, spasming, speeding up until he reached a fever pitch that left them both frantic, needy…
He felt the change in her, saw her eyes snap open and stare up at him in confusion. “Moose…” Her breath shuddered out from her chest and she bucked against him, hips thrusting up into his pelvis. Ethel’s mouth opened in throaty moans and gasps as she came for him. She was sensual and beautiful to him, and her sweet heat was still coddling his length.
“I love you,” he grated out roughly, pushing himself to that last degree until he fell over the edge after her. His face contorted above her, and the veins and cords of muscle stood out in his broad neck, jaw set and tight, and every muscle in his body went hard as a rock as he climaxed. “Love you. Love. You.” His voice died off, hoarse and ineffective as he collapsed. His arms were limp and unsupportive but still had enough strength to flip them over so that she lay plastered over him.
They were both breathing hard and shivering, not from the cold, but from the intensity of the experience. “Ethel,” he rasped.
“I love… you,” she insisted unevenly. “You’re my world.”
“I need you in mine.” His fingers reached for her and began to stroke her silky skin, drawing lazy circles over her shoulder.
“Keep in touch this summer?”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Of course, Bee.” He peered at his phone. “Starting today, since technically, it’s tomorrow.” She groaned disbelievingly at the flashing numbers on the display.
“Here we go again.” More laughter rumbled in his chest, and she poked him.
“Two more weeks.”
“No more curfews.”
“No more study hall. No more “Chef’s Choice” every Thursday at sixth period lunch.”
“No more detention.” Ethel giggled.
“No more gossip in the halls.”
“No shit.” Their laughter mingled with the music and drifted on the low breeze that began to kick up, stirring the warm summer air.
Moose and Ethel each found a new center of their universe, revolving around each other in mutually strong gravity and attraction. For each of them, no other star shone brighter.
FIN.
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Not the Sun