VENUS by Rick Moya (November 1991; revised fall 1994, 1996) As the last bell rang, Rick Alvarez scooped his biology book up off the table, ignoring the teacher's last few words(as he had for almost the entire lecture so far), and exploded out the door, his best friend Danny Veretto on his heels. They ran up the stairs, past scoffing upperclassmen, and knelt at the locker they shared. "I *still* hate the fact they make freshmen share lockers," Danny complained, running a hand through his light brown hair. "You have to cut a hole in the back to fit everything in it." "No shit." Rick twirled the dial and opened the locker, and books sprung out onto the floor. He sighed and brushed off his algebra book. "You gonna do that homework for bio?" Danny slumped against the locker as he grabbed a notebook from the bottom of the pile. "I have to or I'm off the wrestling team. You?" "Not tonight." Rick underhanded the book into the locker, followed by the rest of them, and held the pile in place with one hand. "I'll make it up when he checks notebooks. Besides, he's such a dipshit. He only checks to see if your illustrations are colored. I could write 'orange walk February hung over cheese' across the page and he wouldn't notice." He slammed the locker door shut, but the bottom latch didn't catch. "Damn this thing." He gave it a good hard kick which echoed through the hall and drew laughter from the seniors at the end. "At least it closed on the first one this time," Danny said loudly enough for the older boys to hear. "Don't help me, Danny, okay?" Rick snapped the lock shut and spun the dial. Danny backed off. "Man, what crawled up your ass and died today?" "I'm just having a bad day." Rick stared off into the distance, his already dark eyes clouding over. "Sorry about that. I gotta go." "See you at TKD tonight," Danny called after him as Rick made for the stairs. Rick waved absently, other things on his mind. He was rarely so angry around his best friend, but if she hadn't been all over that...that *junior* in fourth... He slid down the bannister of the stairs and slammed open the door to the band room. Not until he opened his band locker with a clang was he able to slow down. He stuck his head inside and squeezed his eyes shut, unable to get the picture of them out of his head. "Is somebody having a bad day?" a mocking voice came from behind him. "Or are you just trying to hide inside your locker?" Rick whirled and shoved the teaser back into the opposite bank of lockers. "Don't fuck with me, Finley! I don't need any shit from you right now!" John Finley raised his hands. "Hey, little man, I'm just kidding. Lighten up a little, would ya? You Mexicans are always so intense." Rick grabbed John's collar, pulled him down to his own eye level, and spoke in a growl. "First of all, never call me 'little man.' I could whoop your ass between here and Miami. Second, I'm not Mexican, I'm Cuban. I'll appreciate your not confusing them from this point on. Now get your shit and get out of here before you wind up missing vital organs." "The storage room's for everybody, freshman," John spat back. "And I wouldn't recommend threatening a senior." "Senior to what? You're just older. Not wiser, not smarter, not faster, not stronger. I may be a freshman, but I see right through you." Rick released his hold on the polo shirt, which John was quick to straighten out. "If this shirt is ruined, you're paying for it in push-ups," the senior threatened. "I can take all you can throw at me and more. Go ahead." Rick took his tenor sax out of the locker, slammed it shut, and stalked out. [All seniors should die. No, all upperclassmen. *Especially* that asshole Jeff Melman.] Just thinking the name made Rick want to break something. Sure, Jeff was never a jerk. On the contrary, he was one of the nicest upperclassmen at Pensacola High. This was why Rick hated him. He was so nice, he'd stolen the most beautiful girl in the freshman class. Rick strapped the sax onto the rack of his dirtbike and looked off into the distance, thinking about Gena Addison. Her flawless face seemed to float in the sky in front of him, the pale blue eyes sparkling, the wavy dark blonde hair fluttering around her chin--all of it seemed to mock him. Of course, everything seemed to be mocking him today. Ever since band practice... He shook his head, trying to clear it. It didn't work. Gena held on for dear life. He sighed and tried to content himself with his memories. He had met Gena in fourth grade, immediately after coming from Cuba, when they'd both joined band. The director had a weird way of setting things up, so even though she played flute, they ended up sitting together. Over two years of grade school and three years of junior high, they became as close friends as a girl and a guy can be without turning romantic. This was mostly Rick's fault--in fourth grade, he'd been more interested in learning tae kwon do than meeting girls. When he thought back now, he imagined he faintly remembered her flirting with him, and he being totally blind to it. But it was probably just selective memory. Also--Rick remembered this well--Gena had been a bit of an ugly duckling story. When they first met, she had short hair in an almost boyish cut and was, well, rather large, to put it lightly. She had grown into her weight, though, and gone through the glasses phase and the braces phase, and came to the first day of high school, in Rick's eyes, the most attractive woman on God's green earth. He'd thought she was pretty in eighth grade, but she'd still had her glasses and braces then. Hell, he'd even thought she was pretty, in her own way, back in fourth grade. It wasn't until this year that he was overwhelmed by her beauty. Of course, they were still friends. But being Gena's friend, now that she was sought after, was a lot like being Danny's friend. Only she didn't look for a laugh as often. Danny had always been the clown. When they first met in seventh grade, Rick had just beaten the crap out of him for teasing him. Danny was the first person Rick had fought who didn't run away right after the fight. Instead, he got up, apologized, and got Rick to introduce him to his tae kwon do teacher. Rick was impressed with Danny's spirit, and they'd been best friends since. They made quite an interesting pair. Danny had grown up in Brooklyn, which actually blended well with Rick's upbringing in the streets of Havana. That was where the similarity ended, though. Danny's fair features contrasted sharply with Rick's dark skin, hair, and eyes. Rick was almost a foot shorter than Danny's 5-11, topping out at 5-2. Danny's voice came out lazily and languorously, whereas Rick's was all crisp syllables and fast accents. And probably the most notable difference was that Danny could talk to girls, while Rick was the biggest wallflower on earth. Probably that fact didn't help him much in social circles. Not that Rick cared what other people thought about him. For much of his life, he'd been ridiculed because of his accent, his quick temper, his height(or lack thereof), or whatever anyone would decide to use as an excuse on that particular day. He'd gotten used to it, and ignored much of it, but sometimes the teasing really hit home. One guy that Rick had just met this year was particularly good at finding Rick's sore spots. Jeremy Nunez teased him mercilessly about his bad luck with women, the one area that Rick couldn't ignore. He'd already been threatened with suspension for beating Jeremy into the gym floor during basketball practice. He'd almost gotten kicked off the JV basketball team for it, but the coach needed a decent point guard more than he needed a team that was 100% united, and Rick was one of the best. Rick had the impression that your teammates were supposed to have your back. But the other starting four, led by Jeremy at power forward, never let up on him, and he couldn't wait to embarrass them during the season. He rarely attended practice because of them--well, that and his tae kwon do. The Oriental sport had been chosen for him when he was six years old. Every day, he'd come home crying because someone else had bullied him or picked on him or chased him through the alleys in downtown Havana where he went to school. Finally, his father had enrolled him in a class, and he'd taken to it like a duck to water. Now, after defecting from Cuba and finding an excellent teacher in Pensacola, he had his black belt, and was working on second degree while winning every 16 and under tournament in Florida. He smiled faintly as he turned into his driveway. Only to look up and see that it wasn't his driveway. His subconscious had driven him to Gena's house. Any happiness that his memories had brought back was driven away as he remembered her earlier that day. ["Sorry, Rick, I can't play in Ensemble with you this year. I'm already doing a duet with Jeff."] Looking up at the house, he took his helmet off. Unsure of what his body was doing, he stood and walked to the door. His hand, shaking nervously, raised to knock. "No! What's wrong with you?" Rick forced his hand down. "She's not even here. She's..." He swallowed thickly. "She's out with him." As if on cue, a motor revved down the street. He turned to see Jeff's red Toyota pickup driving up the street. It turned into her driveway and screeched to a halt, inches from Rick's bike. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Rick came down the front walk and intercepted Jeff as he walked around the front of the truck. Jeff looked startled. "Hey, man. Didn't see you there." "It's because I'm short," Rick monotoned. "Do you think you could be a little more careful around my bike? I know it's not much, but it's all I have to get around." Jeff glanced back. "Oh. Sure. Hey, what are you doing here anyway?" His voice became suspicious at the end of the sentence. Rick shrugged. "Trying to steal your girlfriend. I don't know." Jeff grinned. "Not gonna happen. You gotta move faster than that. Gena tells me you've known each other five years, and still nothing." "Yeah, well..." Rick looked at the pavement, not wanting to watch as he helped her out of the truck and...well, the obvious. Once Jeff drove off, Rick looked up, directly into Gena's face. "What's wrong?" she asked, her eyes pools of concern. "Nothing," Rick muttered ineffusively. "Come on. I know you better than that." "Well...I guess I'm just disappointed that we won't be doing Ensemble together." He looked away. "Yeah, I know," she said. "First time in three years. I'm sorry. Jeff talked me into it that first date. He said that flute and sax didn't make much sense." "And flute and trumpet do, I suppose." "Well..." She fell silent. "You're right. It must have been the way he said it. But I still want to do it. I think I love him." Rick winced at the word "love." He turned back to look at her, staring off into the distance with starry eyes. "You do?" "Yeah. I mean, we hit it off right from the first day of school. He was so nice to me, and I just felt something spark. Then when he asked me out, I knew he felt it too." She looked back at him, into his eyes. "Have you ever felt something like that? Kind of like a flame popping into your stomach, but not hurting anything?" He looked down. It hurt too much to see her eyes full of love for someone else. "Yeah. I think I've felt that once or twice." He cleared his throat. "I have to go. If you change your mind about ensemble, don't hesitate to call me." "I won't." The stars out of her eyes now, she looked at him intently. He knew she saw he was holding back something else, but she let it pass. "See you tomorrow." Rick waved, got on his bike, and rolled out of the driveway, gunning the engine as fast as it would go the three blocks to his house. He had to get some of that depression away, and driving fast was his drug of choice. He'd only had the bike since halfway through eighth grade, but already had two speeding tickets--one for twenty over, the other for thirty-five. He reminded himself to be careful, because one more would lose the bike to his parents. He pulled the bike into the garage and went into the kitchen. He heard a female voice coming from the living room--Courtney, his foster brother Mike's girlfriend. As if the Alvarez family hadn't had enough problems defecting from communist Cuba, they decided to adopt the White boy when he was eight--four years ago. Mike pretty much kept to his own affairs, though. He and Rick were more like close acquaintances than brothers. Rick shook his head amusedly as he listened to Courtney's big problem--"that bitch Allison" stealing her spot on the junior high cheerleading squad. Of course, he quickly stopped being condescending when he realized that his problem was almost the same--"that asshole Jeff" stealing the woman of his dreams. He grabbed a Dr. Pepper from the fridge and passed through the living room on the way to his bedroom, exchanging nods with Mike, who had his arms around the angry girl. As Rick headed down the hall, a quick wave of frustration surged over him. His foster brother was twelve years old and had already had a long string of girlfriends, starting when he was *ten*, for God's sake. Rick was fourteen and in high school and hadn't even been on a single date, unless you counted the girls Danny talked into dancing with him in junior high. He sighed. It was the price you paid when you devoted yourself to one girl, especially if she was already taken. His bedroom, no matter how many times he went into it, always overwhelmed him. In Havana, nobody had been allowed to own more than a single bed for each child, and a dresser and a night table if you were lucky. Since his dad had come to Florida and learned to program computers, they had come into good times. The house they lived in now was over three times the size of their home in Havana, and Rick's room sometimes seemed ten times as big as his old one. He'd long since lost count of what new electronic gizmo had shown up in this room, but his favorites were the stereo in the corner and the high-powered computer. He shut the door and pressed play on the CD player of the stereo. A rap tune came blaring out, and Rick turned the volume up slightly. He sat at the computer and booted it up. He needed an escape, and nothing let him get away from reality better than a few hours of playing Doom. Thinking back to Gena, he wondered briefly if she would call him. Probably not. Sighing, he returned to his work. * * * "Okay, did anybody have any problem with that last song?" John asked, already disconnecting his alto sax from the neckstrap. Rick raised his hand. "Good," the senior said, standing and closing his music folder. "So if that's all for the sectional..." "Excuse me, Finley, but when did I cease to be a member of this section?" Rick asked loudly. "When you threatened me in the locker room and stretched my favorite shirt beyond repair," the senior retorted. "I hardly think that qualifies. I was having the world's worst day. Now, I'm over her, so let me be heard." "Her who?" another senior teased. "Gena Addison," John scoffed. "Alvarez actually thought he had a chance with her." The fire welled up behind Rick's eyes. "Finley, if she ever thought you were above bird shit on a window, that would be the end of Western civilization. Thank you very much, I did have a chance, but I blew it, I'm past it, shut the fuck up. Now, for my comment." "Do we have to listen to this?" John complained. "Like you will anyway," Rick snapped sarcastically. "You might as well just stick around and stonewall me. That last song sucked. All of our music sucks. And it's not the music, may I add. I've heard Mars and Jupiter in concert by a real band. They're excellent songs, but we don't play them for shit." "And Venus?" John asked in a bored tone. "I didn't even want to bring up Venus," Rick answered. "But since you ask, that's probably the worst performance I've ever heard of any song since I played 'Mary Had a Little Lamb' in the fourth grade. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm going to stick here and practice until I get it right. This could be the best marching show in all of Florida, and you guys just want to slack off and leave it. Who's with me?" Nobody moved, except to open their folders back up. John stared down at Rick coldly. "Listen, you," he growled. "I'm the section leader here, and what I say goes. Just because you know your little karate shit doesn't mean you can take over my spot." He looked at the other saxes. "Practice is over!" he barked. They scattered like scared flies. John turned back to Rick, who stood defiant. "And as for you, you can practice all you want. You'll be doing it by yourself." He turned to his friends. "Let's get out of here." Suddenly, Rick found himself by himself in the band room. "Dammit!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. He unhooked his sax from the neckstrap and cocked his arm back, ready to heave it into the trophy case. But then he stopped. And lowered his arm. Breaking stuff wasn't going to change anything. Except maybe his participation status in band. He turned and trudged back to his chair. About a half hour later, "The Planets" sitting much better with him, Rick headed for his locker. As he knelt to open the lock, he heard a door slam at the end of the hall, followed by running footsteps. He glanced up and was shocked when he saw Gena run to her locker, pound her fists into it, then slump to the floor and put her head between her knees. Again, his body took over for his mind. He stood and walked over to her, becoming conscious of her loud sobs the closer he got. Kneeling in front of her, he tapped her knee lightly. She looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. "Are you all right?" he asked. Immediately, he mentally kicked himself. [Of course she's not all right! What a stupid thing to say.] "Jeff dumped me," she croaked between sobs, dropping her head back to her knees. Rick's mouth dropped open. [A beautiful girl like Gena? Why would anyone want to do that?] "Because he obviously doesn't think so," she answered bitterly. "He wants someone his own age, or so he says. He really just wants someone who will give him her body." Rick thought for a minute, then realized he had said the words out loud. "I should have seen this coming." She leaned her head back against the locker, wiping her face with her sleeve. "I knew he wanted someone else. I should have gotten rid of him then. I don't even know why I'm crying." "I do," Rick answered. He moved to sit next to her and put an arm around her shoulders. "It's because you gave your heart to him, and he didn't want it. Isn't it?" She sat up and looked at him. "Yes," she whispered, putting her head on his shoulder. They sat that way in silence for a bit. "I would never do that," Rick said softly. "What?" "If you gave your heart to me." Rick swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat. "I would take it, embrace it, and love it forever, and give you mine in return." She sat up again and looked at him. "That's beautiful," she whispered. "I wrote it a long time ago," he answered. "When I first met you. I knew you were going to be the one, even then. I don't know how." He cleared his throat. "Of course, it doesn't sound as nice as the original Spanish." She turned her whole body to face him. "You're not joking?" she asked. He shook his head. "I know I resisted you at first, but it was because I was just a little boy. I think I've always loved you, even if I didn't always know it." He looked down. "Sounds like a pick-up line, doesn't it?" "No," she whispered, taking his hand. "I fell for you then because you were new and different. You didn't always tease me about my weight and my looks and my glasses. I never thought I'd still be in love with you now. You have no idea how hard it was to tell you I loved Jeff. I still don't know why I did." He looked into her face. "Did you love him?" "I thought I did." She looked up, and her eyes bored directly into his. "But I don't think I could ever love anybody as much as I do you." As they sat there, gazing at one another, Rick felt like he could see right through Gena's eyes, past her mind, into a bright pink tunnel with purple and blue electric sparks coursing along the walls. For a second, he felt like he was actually inside the tunnel. Without thinking, he leaned over and kissed her. For an instant, he felt her shock, but then she relaxed and melted into his embrace, and he was in the tunnel again. [The tunnel of love,] he thought wryly. He didn't know how long they stayed that way, but after what seemed like an eternity of bliss, she pulled away and smiled. Rick returned the gesture, stood, and helped her up. No words were needed for something like this. He knew(and somehow knew that she knew it) that it would be another eternity before they fell apart. * * * "Gena seems to be getting tired of the relationship." Danny pointed out the girl talking to two guys by her locker. "Come on, man. They're just friends. I have female friends, she doesn't care. Why should I care if she talks to guys?" Rick kicked the locker, but it only half-closed. "We really need to clean this thing out." "A hot girl like Gena?" Danny eyed his friend wryly. "I'd keep an eye on her if I were you." "Back in October I would have kicked your ass for making a remark like that," Rick said. "But Gena's changed me over the year. I'll let you slide." "You mean, she's warped you. You don't kick ass anymore. Only in tournaments. I'm beginning to wonder where she hides the hyperbaric chamber that the real Rick is in." "You don't think I've changed for the better?" Rick stood and looked his friend in the face as best he could. Danny raised his palms in self-defense. "I didn't say that." He glanced over at Gena and pointed when she hugged the guys good-bye. "See what I'm talking about?" Rick scooped his books up off the floor and moved to stand next to his friend. "Well, even if she was being unfaithful, we're going to Prom next week. That should stop her for a while." "I don't know, man. I've heard some pretty bad Prom night horror stories," Danny teased. "Better enjoy it while you can." Rick shoved Danny playfully and walked over to his girlfriend. He leaned over her shoulder and kissed her on the cheek. She turned away from her locker and smiled. "So is everything all set for next Saturday?" "As set as it can be for a week in advance." He draped his arm over her shoulder, still talking, as he walked her to class. Behind them, Jeremy and his cronies watched them walk away. Jeremy shook his head. "I can't believe she went for that geek," he said. "Did you hear where they were going?" Fred, Jeremy's own personal Igor, sidled up to him. "Yeah. Prom. Who isn't?" "We aren't," Fred answered. Jeremy smirked. "Oh, yes we are." "Nothing personal, Jerm, but you're really not my type," Fred joked. "Shut up," he snapped. Laughter immediately ceased as Jeremy glared after Rick and Gena. "Enjoy it while you can, Alvarez," he said, echoing Danny, only now menacing. "This will be your last week together." * * * Rick parked Gena's midnight blue Corvette in the parking lot in front of the city convention center, still amazed that he'd been trusted with such an incredible machine. He climbed out of the car and hurried around the back to open her door. "I can't believe your dad got you this car," he marveled, not for the first time that night. "Oh, that I can believe," she said. "What I'm amazed at is that he didn't go ballistic when I insisted you drive." "Yeah, why'd you do that for me anyway?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I don't even have my learner's permit yet." "Maybe not, but you know how to drive, better than me, in fact," she answered, putting her arms around his neck. "Besides, I wanted tonight to be perfect. The man always drives in romantic situations. You had to. It was predestination." "A fortune reader," he murmured. "You just get more and more amazing." He kissed her and they headed into the dance. As they crossed the dance floor, arm in arm, Rick felt a weak punch in the small of his back. He turned to see Fred, who he recognized as Jeremy's chief boot-licker. "Not tonight, man. Maybe some other time." "You think you're so hot, don't you?" Fred taunted lamely. Rick sighed. "Dude, go away." He turned back around, coolly knocking the jerk's feet out from under him even as he took Gena's hand and they began dancing to another spot. Jeremy stalked on to the dance floor and pushed Fred, who was halfway up, back to the floor. "What the hell was that?" he yelled. "You were supposed to get him to fight. 'You think you're hot'? What's he supposed to say to that? 'Why, yes, I do'?" Fred, still on the ground, shook his head. "I don't think it's gonna work. She's a pacifist, he knows it, and he'll do anything to keep her. We learned that six months ago when he all but gave up TKD for her." He sat back up. Jeremy looked off into the lights. "There's gotta be a way." He shoved Fred back to the floor once more for good measure. "Anything is what he'll have to do. Come on." "Only if you promise not to push me back down," Fred groaned. The song ended, and the band leader announced a five. Rick and Gena headed for a table and sat down. Rick glanced up, and his eyes narrowed as he saw Jeremy headed their way. "I don't like the look in his eyes," he muttered, jerking his head in Jeremy's direction. Gena laughed. "Rick, you're way too suspicious of everybody." "I was brought up that way." He flashed his eyes up at Jeremy, who had just reached them. "Hey, Alvarez. Gena. Listen, I just want to apologize for the way I've treated you this year. You're my teammate, and I should have had your back instead of bagging on you all the time. Well..." He extended his hand. "Let's just say I'm sorry for the whole year in general." Rick noticed his mouth was hanging open, and quickly shut it. "Um..." He reached out and shook it. "Apology accepted, man. I'm sorry about that practice last fall, too." "No, I had that coming. If it's all the same to you, is it all right if I dance one dance with your girl?" Rick glanced over at Gena. "Well, I guess it's really up to her. But no funny stuff, or I'll come after you." Jeremy laughed. "No problem." He extended his hand to Gena and they headed out onto the dance floor. Immediately, Rick started to re-think what he had just done. He had agreed to let his arch-rival over the entire year dance with his girlfriend because of an apology that hadn't even sounded entirely genuine to begin with, and obviously had ulterior motives. He glanced out at the floor. Jeremy was holding Gena very close. [Too close,] Rick thought. Then he shook his head, trying to clear it. This wasn't a case of bigger boys with knives chasing him down a Havana alley. This was a jerk--and a jerk who he could beat easily in a fight--dancing with his girlfriend. Besides, it was a slow song. He glanced over as the song ended, and couldn't believe his eyes. Jeremy moved in for a kiss, but at the last second Gena turned her head, letting it land on her cheek. Not to be denied, Jeremy slid his lips across her face until they met hers. Rick saw red. He jumped up, knocking over the chair(and probably the table; he was in such a rage, he didn't know), and darted to the spot where they were standing. "What the fuck is wrong with you, man?" he yelled. "She's my girlfriend. If you want to kiss her, wait until we break up!" "Shouldn't be too long now," Jeremy chortled, shoving Rick back into a dancing couple. "Don't touch me, you asshole!" Rick hit Jeremy in the chest with both palms, knocking him onto the floor. He stood, still smiling, to be greeted with a kick to the chest. He caught Rick's foot and chuckled. His entire body feeling as though it were in flames, Rick jumped off his remaining foot and spun in a circle around his immobile leg, kicking Jeremy across the face. Jeremy staggered back but didn't fall, and Rick aimed a punch at his jaw. Jeremy caught the flying fist, still laughing, and flipped Rick to the floor. Rick jumped up and faced his adversary. [What the *fuck* is so funny? I'm kicking your ass here.] "Stop it!" Gena screamed. "This is ridiculous! Nobody owns me! I am my own person! I don't need any of you!" She turned and ran out of the dance hall. Rick turned. "Gena, wait!" he cried. As he chased her, Fred jumped in his path. Not even pausing, Rick kneed him between the legs and pushed him to the side. "Out of my way, fuckface," he growled as he stepped over the body and ran outside. The pale light of the street lamps reflecting over the dark clouds gave an eerie glow to the night. Gena was pulling away. Rick ran to her window. She rolled it halfway down and glared at him. "Gena, I'm so sorry," he began. "It's too late for that, Rick," she snapped. "It's over. I'm sorry you couldn't control yourself. We had something special and you ruined it. Goodbye." She rolled up her window and drove away. As Rick watched the Corvette disappear down the street, it started to rain. He looked up into the sky, then started the long walk home, leaving the dance hall--along with his happiness--far behind. * * * There was a knock on Rick's bedroom door. "Come in," he muttered from his bed. Courtney, Mike's girlfriend, opened the door. It was odd how all of Mike's friends seemed somehow closer to Rick. "What's wrong?" she asked. "You haven't left the house in six days." "I'm sick." Rick rolled over and faced the wall. Courtney sat on the bed. "You're not sick. Or is it just a coincidence that you got sick the day Gena left you?" "I had to walk five miles in the rain before I could get a cab home," Rick answered. "That give you any ideas?" "You would *not* be sick this long!" Courtney leaned over and looked into Rick's face. "I know what it feels like to be dumped. You're acting just like I did, when I could have done something about it." "Well then, give me a suggestion, Court." Rick sat up and faced her, bleary-eyed. "Tell me what you would have done better to make yourself a happier person after the person of your dreams drops you like so much excess ballast." "Well, if I were you, I'd ride that bike over there and talk to her," Courtney answered. "She's probably doing the exact same thing you are." "Yeah, right. She's probably got the guys lined up from here to Niceville. She has nothing to be upset about. She dumped me, remember?" Rick fell back to his lying position and buried his face in a pillow. He felt Courtney get up and, a few seconds later, heard the door close. About a minute later, the phone rang. Rick picked it up on three, when it became obvious that Mike wasn't going to get it. "What?" he mumbled. "Yo, Rickman!" It was Danny. "How come you haven't been at school?" "I'm sick," Rick answered. "Yeah, I know, sick of school. Playing that old excuse out." "No, I'm really sick. My stomach hurts, my legs are weak, and I can't focus my eyes." "Uh-oh. You and Gena didn't do anything, well, special after the dance, did you?" Rick detected a note of teasing in his friend's voice--a good thing, or else the phone would have been spare parts against the opposite wall. "She hasn't come at all this week either. Maybe she has the same thing." Rick said nothing, just rubbed his eyes. "What I do know," Danny continued, "is that buttcrack-lover Jeremy Nunez keeps claiming she's his when everybody knows she's yours. Is there something I should know?" Rick sat bolt upright. "Yeah, probably. But not now. Everything just healed up, Danny. Meet me at the tree in five minutes, and I'll explain this to you." He hung up, then picked up the receiver again, dialing Jeremy's number from memory. (It's good to know your enemy's phone number just in case you have to make a sudden crank call.) Jeremy picked up on the second ring, and Rick was ready for it. "You think you're such hot shit now, don't you?" he snarled. "Well, hear this. You don't know your own ass from a hole in the wall. Be in the school parking lot in fifteen minutes, and we'll decide once and for all who gets what." Then he slammed the receiver down. He ran through the living room, past Mike and Courtney watching TV. "If Mom and Dad ask where I am, tell them I'm out with Danny," he said. "Where will you really be?" Mike asked. "Just for the record." Rick stopped and looked at them both, a gleam in his eye. "Jeremy Nunez and I have a little business to discuss." * * * Danny paced in front of the pine tree where he and Rick had hung out in junior high. He checked his watch. 9:26--almost five minutes since Rick had called him. Hearing a motor in the distance, he looked up to see Rick racing down the street like a madman. The bike screeched to a stop mere feet from Danny, and a helmet flew into his hands. "Get on," Rick intoned. Danny climbed onto the back seat of the bike and held on for dear life as Rick sped off. "I don't mean to pry," he yelled into Rick's ear, "but where are we going?" "To the school," Rick answered. "The parking lot." "You're doing something about Jeremy!" Danny yelled triumphantly. Rick shook his head. "You know, you're about as sharp as a bowling ball, Danny." "All right!" Danny risked raising a fist in the air before grabbing back onto the bike. Rick turned into the parking lot, fishtailing a little as he raced for the hedges along the back side. He killed the bike and lifted it over the curb into the bushes. Grabbing the duffel bag he'd tied to the rack, he handed it to Danny. "There's a searchlight and a cable inside. Clip it to the battery." Danny shrugged as he took the bag. Rick stepped away from him and looked around the parking lot. Pensacolans really wanted their children to go to a beautiful school. The parking lot was abundant with trees and bushes. Rick never thought he'd be using one to hide in while he was waiting to spring a surprise attack. The parking lot lit up around him, and he turned to see Danny fiddling with the searchlight, playing the beam across the parking lot. He walked back to his friend. "Okay, here's the plan. I'm going to be hiding in a tree over there. When Nunez shows up, I'll signal you by throwing something in your direction. After it hits the ground, wait a second, then hit the light. While he's blinded, I'll ambush them." "Sounds kinda devious to me," Danny commented, waving the beam over the cloudy sky. "Why an ambush?" "Because he's going to bring all his little friends with him. He's so pathetic, he can't even fight his own battles for a girl. Turn that thing off." Rick waved at the light. "People are gonna think we're calling Batman or something. If I sneak up on them, I can minimize the chance that we're gonna get group whipped." "Wait a second. We?" Danny backed away and raised his palms. "Man, this is your fight. I'm just here to do lighting." "Danny, don't tell me you're pussing out on me. You want to see Nunez and his crew go down as much as I do." "Well..." Danny was silent for a second. "He never tried to kiss my girlfriend, but I gotta agree he *is* the biggest dick in school. All right. I'm in." "Good. Now I'm gonna go wait. Listen for the signal." Rick slapped his friend on the shoulder and ran for the trees. He heard a scraping sound as he kicked something, and picked up a flattened soda can. Good for the signal. He stuffed it into his pocket and jumped to grab the overhanging branch of a tall ash. Pulling himself into the tree, he settled in to wait. After about five minutes, he saw headlights in the entrance, which abruptly turned off. Car doors opened and closed, and footsteps crunched their way across the gravel. Rick heard a loud clank, and realized they were armed, probably with baseball bats. "Wilson, would you knock off the fancy shit?" Jeremy's voice barked, echoing across the lot. "Sorry, man," another voice came. "But it's not like he's here yet." "Oh, he will be," Jeremy answered. "And we're going to be ready for him. You guys go hide in the hedges over there. That boy's in for the beating of his life." Rick realized it was now or never. He reached up and tested branches until he found a dead one that snapped off easily. Squatting on his perch, he pulled the soda can out of his pocket and threw it towards Danny's hiding spot. A muted clank echoed as the can landed. "What was that?" a new voice panicked. Rick heard running footsteps and dropped to the ground. He shut his eyes tight as the light came on. Yells of surprise resounded, and Rick ran towards them, eyes still shut. He squatted and swung low, taking the feet out from under someone. Gravel crunched behind him, and he spun and kicked the new attacker in the stomach before sweeping his legs. Snapping his eyes open, he held his stick up just in time to block a downward slash before kicking the attacker in the side and wrenching the bat from his grasp. With a kick to the head, he put the man down as he threw the bat toward the light. "That's your cue!" he yelled as he turned to dodge another swing. As he faced two people at once, he heard clanks coming from where Danny was apparently sword-fighting(or bat-fighting, as it were) with another. Rick circled, keeping both guys in sight. One charged him, and Rick dodged, sticking out a foot. The attacker tripped over it and stumbled into the one behind him, and Rick used the stick to push them both to the ground. There was a soft thump and a yell of pain behind him, and Rick turned to see the last guy crawling away from Danny. "Okay," Danny said, panting. "So where's Nunez?" "Maybe he didn't even come." Rick turned to where he knew Jeremy was hiding in the shadows. "Maybe he wussed out of his own fight." "Don't get your hopes up." Rick made out a dark form standing and walking into the light. Jeremy, wearing all black, was swinging a baseball bat at his side. "Man, you guys really thought you were gonna sneak up on me, didn't you?" Rick said, laughing hoarsely. "Don't even talk to me about foul play," Jeremy spat. "That sneak attack was totally out of order." "Oh, and you weren't going to do the same?" Jeremy sighed. "Let's just get on with it." "Fine." Rick threw his stick aside. Danny gasped behind him. "What are you doing?" "This is going to be a fair fight," Rick answered, glaring evenly at Jeremy. "You call off your boys and lose the bat. Then we go hand-to- hand, Mother Nature's way. Agreed?" Jeremy sneered. "Fuck you." He hefted the bat, pointed it at Rick, and charged. Rick was able to sidestep and grabbed the bat, trying to wrench it out of Jeremy's hands. Jeremy held on, laughing. "Now what, Mister Mother Nature?" Rick scowled. Gripping the bat firmly, he dove over the top of it and rolled forward, knocking his adversary to the asphalt as the bat twisted. He pulled it free of Jeremy's grasp and threw it to Danny. "Are we agreed?" he added. "Shithead?" Jeremy sighed. "Fine." He spun quickly, taking Rick's legs out from under him with a foot sweep. They both scrambled to their feet and faced each other. Rick circled his opponent, waiting for him to make the first move. He did. Raising a fist, he charged. Rick dodged back from the swing and stuck his foot out. Jeremy, unable to stop, tripped over it and went stumbling into the bushes. Danny laughed. "It's not polite to trip people, Rick." "Like this asswipe's ever polite," Rick snapped back, not in the mood for humor. Jeremy stood and faced him again. This time he didn't wait before charging. Rick took the direct approach and kicked Jeremy hard in the gut before he could swing. Jeremy doubled over, and Rick dropped an elbow to the small of his back. Still hunched over, Jeremy lashed out with an open hand, the back of it landing across Rick's face. Rick stepped back, stunned. "Uh-oh. Bitch slap. Looks like it's getting serious." Danny grinned nervously. This time, Rick took the offensive. He stepped forward and spun around in a back roundhouse kick. Jeremy blocked as the heel came at his face, and before Rick could put his foot down, swung his own up between Rick's legs. Rick's eyes bulged with the severe rending pain that followed, and he fell. Jeremy moved to stand over him. [That's what I get for not playing defense,] Rick told himself, and shook off the pain as best he could. He rolled to his side to be met with a foot in the stomach. [Man, this guy doesn't know what fair means.] Ignoring the pain and breathlessness, Rick remembered a move he'd made up some weeks ago in tae kwon do class, a variation on a foot sweep. He rolled to his stomach and put his hands flat on the ground at waist level, playing possum. At the same time, he pushed down hard, lifting his entire body about two inches. He hovered there, imperceptibly, until he heard Jeremy move around to his feet. Quickly, he twisted his shoulders as though to raise one hand and lower the other. Both being rooted to the ground, his body swung in a perfect arc, his lower legs catching Jeremy's. He felt the other boy lose his feet, and scrambled to his own as Jeremy hit the ground. "That's an illegal move, boy," Rick panted, "and for that you're going to have to pay. On your feet." Jeremy didn't move. Rick walked closer and was surprised by the foot rising up to strike him in the chest. He staggered back as Jeremy jumped up and prepared another attack. [Could I be any blinder tonight?] Rick cursed himself silently. [Gee, maybe I'll walk into his outstretched fist next.] Jeremy was rushing at him. He forced himself to focus, and quickly dodged all the blows that were launched at him. Jeremy must have had some training himself in martial arts. He wasn't leaving himself open to much. Rick was briefly impressed, then got back to what mattered. [This is for the basketball season when you upstaged me every game. This is for the entire year that you've been ridiculing me.] He dodged another punch and was amazed to see Jeremy stagger off balance. [And this is for taking Gena from me.] Quickly, he launched into a roundhouse kick, his heel landing sharply in Jeremy's upper back. As Jeremy staggered forward, Rick spun the other way, landing an open hand along the bridge of his nose. Jeremy cried out sharply and grabbed his nose. Blood dripped from it, almost imperceptibly, but Rick saw it. Normally, he would never continue after drawing blood. But this time, instead of turning him down, the blood affected him like a shark, making him want more. As Jeremy held his nose, Rick launched a straight kick into his chest, forcing him back. Rick advanced, continuing the attack on the upper body with one foot while moving on the other. Jeremy had given up on his nose and was warding off some of the blows, but the majority were connecting with his chest and shoulders. Rick knew that with his current level of intensity, Jeremy couldn't hold him off much longer, and eventually he'd have to make a mistake. Rick, on the other hand, felt like he could go forever. Finally, Jeremy started letting his arms drop, a sure sign he was wiped. Rick allowed himself a quick grin, then fired his right foot deep into the pit of Jeremy's stomach. Jeremy doubled over, gasping for breath, and Rick launched a knee into his face. The force jerked him up into a standing position, but it didn't look like he'd stay that way for long. Blood flowed out of his nose and audibly dripped to the ground. His eyes were half closed, and he swayed unsteadily on his feet, two sure signs that he was beaten. Rick geared himself up for one final flying roundhouse, then changed his mind and pushed Jeremy with one hand. His eyes rolled up into his head, and he crashed to the ground. Rick dropped to his knees as well, gazing up into the cloudy sky. Footsteps crunched behind him, and he turned to look at Danny, bending over Jeremy's body. "Did you kill him?" Rick shook his head. "I couldn't do that. It's against all I've been taught. He'll wake up in the morning with a major headache is all." Danny looked over at the entrance. "Hey, his cronies are leaving. Do we want to stop them?" Rick glanced over at the car. "No. It's not worth it. Besides, they're not just going to leave Nunez here, no matter how big a dick he is." Headlights went on, and an engine roared. "You sure?" Danny asked. "Of course I'm sure. Look. Here they come. Would you want to carry him all the way over there?" The car stopped a few feet from them, and Fred got out from behind the wheel. "Hey, is it cool if we take him?" "No, we're going to autopsy him." Danny rolled his eyes. "Of course it's cool." Fred bent over and lifted Jeremy into a sitting position. "Hey, Rick? Um, I'm sorry about all this and the prom and everything. Jeremy can really get me doing stuff I don't agree with. it's been that way for years." "Well, maybe you should say something to him," Rick suggested. "Like what?" Rick looked off into the distance for a moment. "Tell him this was not only because he was mean to me, but it was because he's mean to everybody. Say that if he doesn't mend his ways, that was only a taste of the beating to come. And it's not just gonna be me next time. It'll be every single person he rips on. And I can rally us, I know I can. There are guys who wouldn't mind seeing him like this again." "I know." Fred looked down. "Yeah, I can do something like that. He had this coming. I'm glad you did it, in a way." He paused for a second, then wrapped his arms around Jeremy's chest in a fireman's carry. "Well, we better get this guy home before anybody starts worrying. See you around." Rick looked the other way as the car drove off. Danny moved over and sat next to him. "That was impressive." "Yeah. It was, wasn't it." "I mean, you wasted him. Totally, devastatingly, beyond-a-shadow-of- a-doubt wasted him." Rick looked down, and Danny tilted his head to look up into Rick's face. "I thought you'd be happy." "Oh, I am," Rick answered. "About that, anyway. Now I'm just thinking of what to do about Gena." Danny's face clouded in sympathy. "Oh, yeah. I hope this doesn't get back to her. She'd never take you back then." "No kidding. I practically killed the guy. She really wants to be in *my* arms." "Hey, man. Don't worry." Danny clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder. He nodded toward the lot entrance. "I'm sure *they're* not going to say anything. The class jock just got his ass beat by one of the nerds. Imagine *that* traveling around school." "Thank you so much." "Hey, no offense. I'm a nerd too. Besides, knowing you, you've probably got it all figured out. And even if you don't, it doesn't really matter. She'll come back anyway, as long as you do first." Rick glanced at his friend. "You think it'll work out?" Danny chuckled and looked into the distance. "Man, she *loves* you. I saw it in her eyes for six months. You wouldn't *believe* how devoted this girl is to you. All the gossip this week has been that she's been out because of what happened at prom. And I believe it, for a change. I only *wish* I could find a girl who loved me as much as Gena loves you. You don't know how lucky you are. If I were you..." He trailed off. "You don't need to hear that, though." Rick shook his head. "So what do I do?" "I don't know." Rick clutched his chest, acting shocked. "Oh my God, the great Danny Veretto doesn't know what to do for girl trouble." "Hey, pal, I'm good with one night stands, short term things. You and Gena, that's real. And I never said I was the great one." A grin spread widely across Danny's face. "But can I quote you on that?" Rick smiled. "Sure." He stood. "Come on. I'll drop you off, and then I have to figure out what to do about Gena." * * * Gena wiped the tears from her face and looked at herself in the vanity mirror. She had let herself go to pot over the last week, all because of what she had done at Prom. Her hair, once her best asset, lustrous and full, now hung down lifelessly. Her once crystal blue eyes were now red- rimmed and dull, with dark circles around them from not having slept. Of course, she knew it was nobody's fault but her own. [Why was I so stupid? Rick was right about Jeremy the whole time. And I just left him there like it was his fault.] She burst into another wave of tears. Standing from the vanity, she flung herself onto her bed, sobbing quietly into her pillow. This week had all but torn her apart inside. The full force of what she'd done hadn't hit her until she'd driven away from the dance. She'd been in love with Rick since they met in fourth grade, and then she'd just tossed him aside when he'd been trying to protect what they had. She'd been so overwhelmed then, she'd barely been able to drive. The wave passed, and she sat up, wiping her eyes. The picture of Rick that she'd taken on their first date sat in a frame on her bedside table, and now she picked it up. Even looking at this picture reminded her of how much she loved him. Instead of bursting into tears, though, she surprised herself by standing and walking over to the French balcony doors, where she and Rick had ended many an evening stargazing. She paused, one hand on the doorknob, a million emotions running through her. But one was stronger than all the rest combined. Love. She opened the doors and went outside. In just a T-shirt and a pair of soccer shorts, the brisk April wind chilled her to the bone. But she stayed outside anyway, for what reason she didn't know. It was as if she was out there with Rick, listening to him talk about constellations while they held each other. A flash of motion in the yard caught the corner of her eye, and she turned. There was nothing there, but sitting on the railing of her balcony was a perfect white rose. She picked it up, gazing out over the yard, expecting more. The sound of a tenor saxophone floated up to her, softly and delicately playing a familiar melody. After a few seconds, Gena realized what it was. Rick was playing Venus. He stepped out from behind a maple tree directly in front of her. Her heart leaped with joy, and she bit her lip as her love for him overflowed her senses. Another tear rolled down her cheek, but this one was unlike the others she'd cried this week. This one was pure joy. He played a few more bars, then looked up at her questioningly. She nodded and waved for him to come up. He laid the sax on the grass and climbed the trellis next to her balcony. She helped him over the railing and stepped back, looking down. For a minute, they were silent, not looking at each other. Then they both looked up. "I'm sorry..." they both said together, then stopped. "It's all my fault..." they tried again. She felt a smile slowly forming on her face. "You go first." He cleared his throat and looked off into the yard. "I really shouldn't have gone off on Jeremy like that. I should have respected your beliefs and kept my cool." "No..." She laid a hand on his shoulder. "I think if you hadn't done something, I would have been more disappointed in you than I was when you did. We have something special. You didn't want to lose it to him, I saw that." "But that's exactly what he was doing! He baited me into fighting him so we'd break up." He threw a fist into his open palm angrily. "And it worked. We did. And now..." He looked down. "It'll never be the same." "Did you get revenge on him?" she asked quietly. He only nodded. "I don't blame you if you never want to see me again." "Rick..." she protested. "I could never do that. I love you." "I love you too." He looked at her. "But you've said yourself there's nothing worth fighting for. And it's all I have. I've been a fighter since I was born, I had to be. I tried to change for you, but that obviously didn't work. We..." He looked into the yard again. "We didn't work." "That's not true! You were wonderful!" She hugged his arm. "I had the best times of my life when we were together. You don't know how long I've wanted you. You're special to me, Rick. For six years, you've been there for me. I've loved you since I met you. It can't just end now." "But it has to." He took her hands. "At least for a little while. You're a wonderful girl, Gena, and I love you. But after this... I just wouldn't feel right, knowing I was with you and living against your principles." "I can change! I was wrong! Rick, you can't do this to me!" Gena felt the tears start to form in her eyes. "I'm sorry." Rick let go of her hands and swung over the balcony. "Maybe in a while, we can try again. But right now, I'm just not ready." He climbed down the trellis and walked back into the trees, stopping only for his sax, not looking back. The torrent building inside Gena finally cut loose, and she whirled back into her room, dropping the rose and slamming the doors behind her. She threw herself onto her bed, her entire body wracked with violent sobs. She felt as if her heart had just shattered into pieces and dropped heavily into the depths of her stomach. No torture in the world could be worse than what Rick had just done to her. She quieted some, still sobbing, wondering why she'd had to endure that. If he truly loved her, why would he put her through that? And suddenly, she knew why. She was too demanding, too conditional, even though she knew she loved him no matter what. How could anybody love that? The sound of her balcony doors opening behind her caused her to turn, wiping tears from her face. Rick stood, just inside her room, holding the rose. "I was halfway to my bike when I realized what I'd just said," he said. "And I realized all of it was a lie. I love you, Gena, and if I have to spend another moment apart from you, I think I'm going to die." He extended the rose to her. "Please, take me back." She was on her feet in less than a second and in his arms in another, her tears still freely flowing, but again of joy. "Of course I will," she whispered into his ear. They separated and looked into each other's eyes. No words were needed; Gena could see everything he was feeling running through them, and felt her own right on the surface. They leaned forward and kissed, and a pathway seemed to open between them. Gena felt as though she was standing inside a tunnel with sparks of love--Rick's love--coursing along the walls, and it warmed her still-cold body completely through. It had always been good kissing Rick before, but it was *never* like this. They pulled apart reluctantly and smiled at each other. "I love you," he murmured. "I love you too," she whispered back. "And I feel like we'll never be apart again. Let's not, okay?" "Let's not even talk about it," he answered. "If we don't worry about it, nothing will go wrong." He checked his watch. "As much as I hate to, I have to go. I'll see you in the morning." "You'd better." Gena toyed with her hair. "I promise I'll look better than this." He gazed at her. "You're always beautiful to me." He kissed her again, briefly. "I really have to get home. I love you." "I love you too." She followed him out onto the balcony and grabbed one last kiss before he climbed back down and ran across the yard. He turned and waved at the fringe of the grove, and she blew him a kiss. He mimed catching it before disappearing back into the trees. Gena smiled after him and turned to go back into her room. For the first time in a week, she would have no trouble sleeping.