Little Games by yourburgersarethebest
Summary:

Carolyn Hill is a quiet, country church girl who just wants to fit in. One day, a stranger comes to town and teaches her something she will never forget.
Categories: Off The Wall: 1975-1981, Family, Romance Characters: Original Girl
General Warnings: Some Scenes of a Sexual Nature
Trigger Warnings: Racism
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 6 Completed: Yes Word count: 14082 Read: 9571 Published: Apr 08, 2019 Updated: Apr 15, 2019
Story Notes:
This story has some strong language and situations of the time period. Warnings will be placed where they are due.
The fanfic is set in the year 1960. For story purposes, Michael will be a late teen and he will be based off of the "Off The Wall" era.

1. Prologue & Chapter 1 by yourburgersarethebest

2. Chapter 2 by yourburgersarethebest

3. Chapter 3 by yourburgersarethebest

4. Chapter 4 by yourburgersarethebest

5. Chapter 5 by yourburgersarethebest

6. Chapter 6 & Epilogue by yourburgersarethebest

Prologue & Chapter 1 by yourburgersarethebest
Author's Notes:
Warning: racial slur.
Prologue


The wise pine trees loom above us and fill the air with their earthy scent. We continue touching our fingers together, talking in an age-old language. His fingers are bony and slender, and mine are soft from years of paging through Daddy's Bible.

Our hands feel the same.

He looks cautiously at my palms against his chest, but then he allows the pressure to nestle him against the wild grass. A ray of light descends onto his face, illuminating the deep brown of his eyes. I can see his pupils changing themselves, over and over, adjusting perfectly to the Sun.

My heart pounds when his bellbottoms shift uneasily under my dress. He asks quietly, "What are you doing?"

As always, I don't speak.

We're both scientists testing the theory of this moment we created. The blue planet peers down at it's two-legged masters in an alien courtship, and waits.

His fingers glide to my neat bun and pluck out my hairpin like a soft feather. I remove the rest of the pins patiently. My hair slowly unravels and then drapes above him in a short curtain of brown silk. A breeze passes and flutters my hair over his face, tickling his chin. We stare at each other emptily.

I press my hands to his cheeks, and then I descend into his face as if I'm leaning close to a butterfly slowly flapping its wings on a flower petal. Nothing should move. I don't want it to fly away.

He tenses at the looming shadow over him and his eyebrows gently narrow with something close to fear.

I kiss him.


Chapter 1


The dismissal bell rings, and Carolyn is the first to sling her books in a pile and run out of the classroom. Her bright heels click through the bustling hallway as she squeezes past a few lazy shoulders. She nearly misses a student government officer balancing on a tall wooden ladder.

"Hey--Carol!" A voice calls from somewhere above her.

Carolyn stops in the racket of voices, but then she finally glances up.

"There's a meeting tomorrow. Officers only." The brown-vested boy on the ladder adjusts his glasses. "Is that...makeup?"

Carolyn looks down and nods quickly.

"Well, I'll be damned! Uh, see you Friday." He smiles weakly and finishes a long stroke of red paint to complete the '1-9-6-0' on a homecoming banner.

She nods and waits for an opening between a pair of laughing janitors before she sprints through them. She feels the heat of the dry afternoon scorch her skin when she steps outside of the school doors and pounds down the stairs. Carolyn takes a moment to adjust her slipping textbooks as her hazel eyes race around the parking lot for a shiny pink Chevy with white-walled tires.

She gasps when a bumper almost rams into her side, and then all of her books topple to the pavement. The driver honks impatiently while she scrambles to file them back into her arms.

"You're late." A brown, greasy-haired boy in a dark leather jacket and faded Levis speaks between smacks of his gum. He jerks his chin towards the back.

Carolyn brushes off her sweater and makes a move towards the backseat door with the other girls.The car lurches forward and Carolyn's hand grabs nothing but air. Three of the four seniors snicker, but then a blonde girl with bangs and bouncy curls shoves the boy in the driver's seat roughly. The boy almost chokes on the wad of gum between his teeth. "Jesus, Judy!"

"Stop it, Dick. Let her in." Judy warns.

Dick hopped over the side of the car and spits out his gum. He quickly opens the door for Carolyn and smiles like a gentleman.

" 'Atta boy, Dick!" Jason remarked from the passenger seat.

Carolyn thanked Dick and climbed into the space made for her by Roxanne and Judy. Then, she squealed when she felt a leather glove slap her butt.

Carolyn's face was still red when the pink Chevy rolled into the parking lot of Bigg's Diner. She felt Roxanne's fingers blotting out some liner on her eyelids. "Remember what I told'ya? Less is more!" Roxanne pulled out a mascara wand from her purse and asked Carolyn to look up. As the wand's bristles combed her bottom lashes, she saw the clouds sailing aimlessly in the blue country sky.

"You girls ready yet? Ain't nobody in there, anyway." Dick motioned for his girlfriend, Judy, to light his cigarette.

"I'm just helping her with her makeup, the poor thing. Doesn't even know how to pick the right lipstick! Red's too bold, but she still looks so cute!" Roxanne laughingly pinched Carolyn's cheek. Carolyn winced at the sting of Roxanne's long, red nails. Roxanne filed her makeup products away."You're paying, right Jason?"

"Shut up, Roxanne! No one asked you all that, airhead." Judy and Dick eyed him, and then Jason shrugged the shoulders of his leather jacket. "Fine. I'll pay."

"You're the math team wiz, huh? So, put that 'ta good use." Dick playfully shoved Jason, who rattled backward with a jingle of metal buckles.

Jason swatted Dick's arm away and ran a hand through his jet-black pompadour. "You know I ain't in that no more." After a tense moment, he shouts at the girls to hurry up again.

The four shuffle inside the diner, and then an old cowbell clangs when the door slams behind them. They settle in one of the tables in the empty lobby.

Carolyn makes a move to drag a chair from another table for herself, but Jason beats her to it. He gives Carolyn a compassionate glance before lifting the chair to a space in between him and Roxanne.

Jason hands her a menu from in between the glass bottles of Tabasco and Heinz, but Carolyn shakes her head and almost laughs. She has it memorized, too. Everyone in town probably did. Jason smirked sheepishly, and then he continues his conversation with Judy about homecoming.

A burly, snowy-haired man in a white hat and apron emerges from the kitchen with an ash tray. "You read my sign out there, Dick?" He strode to the table, placed the ashtray in front of the soles of Dick's boots and crossed his arms.

Dick blew out a cloud of smoke from his cigarette. "Yeah. Did you read this?" Dick flicks him off, but Judy slaps his hand to his lap. Dick enjoys another long inhale and then squishes the cigarette butt in the tray. "Sorry, Biggs."

The diner owner walks back behind the counter with the tray, grunting about "kids these days".

"So, what do you want, Carolyn?" Jason turns to the short-haired girl beside him and gently nudges her quiet shoulders with his elbow.

Carolyn gulps at the feeling of eight eyeballs staring at her.

"If y'wanna hang with us, baby, 'ya gonna hav'ta speak up a whole lot more." Dick shook his head and grinned. "Now--" Dick swung his boots off of the table and leaned forward towards Carolyn. "--whadd'ya want?"

"A malt." Carolyn said.

"Vanilla?" Roxanne asks.

Carolyn nodded.

"Wanna hear something?" Dick glanced at the jukebox. Carolyn looked up at Dick's wide smile.

"Put on The Diamonds!" Roxanne squealed and bounced in her seat.

"Did anyone ask you, Roxie?" Dick shushed her and rolled his eyes. He turned back to Carolyn. "I'll spin anything y'want."

"...Joe Clay." Carolyn muttered.

"Alright! Now that's what I'm talkin' about!" He made his way to the jukebox and flipped through some albums. "Hey, Biggs!" He hollered over the empty ice-cream bar. "Got any Joe Clay back there?!"

A waiter eventually came out with a pad, a yellow pencil and a bright yellow album, "Rockabilly".

"I thought'chyall would have somethin' in the back!" Dick grinned excitedly at the album and snatched it from the waiter's hands. He dug inside for the vinyl, but then he stilled. He looked back at the waiter in shock. "Oh, hell no." When Dick looked back at the table, he saw that his gang was shocked, too.

"Biggs--who is this?!!" Dick roared into the back. The waiter let out a small sigh and walked towards the group. Dick stopped him. "You ain't gonna take our order--what're you doing? Biggs!"

"What?!" A hoarse, old voice snapped.

"You gonna let him take our order? Whadd'ya mean who--the nigger! Are you gonna let him take our order or what?!"

"It can't be helped--I needed hands. Siddown and shut up for once, will 'ya?!" Biggs yelled back. "Worse than your Pa."

"Aw--stuff it!" Dick laughed. His laughter dimmed as he watched Biggs scrub some pots ignorantly. Dick turned to the waiter and glared at him, grinding his jaw. He slid the Joe Clay vinyl into the jukebox. His squeaking boots echoed in the lobby alongside the blaring tunes from the music machine. Dick sat down slowly back in his chair.

The waiter in a white apron, a short sleeved tee and long jeans flipped idly through his pad for a new page. "What can I get for--"

"You ain't takin' my order." Dick grumbled, shaking his head.

The waiter blinked steadily and eyed Roxanne. "For you, miss?"

Roxanne spoke. "I want a cheeseburger with no onions." She didn't turn to look at the teen scribbling onto the pad.

Jason twirled a salt shaker during his slow reply. "Just...some water."

It was quiet enough to hear every loop of granite from the waiter's cursive. The uniformed teenager's dark brown orbs nestled on Carolyn. Carolyn gradually looked up at the waiter.

Although the waiter's large afro was his strangest feature, Carolyn felt pulled in by his angel-like eyes. They seemed to have a hidden wisdom that was much too old for his body, which was as lean as a male ballerino. The longer he stared at her, the faster Carolyn's heart raced.

"A vanilla malt." Carolyn replied.

"Hmm?" The waiter tensed an eyebrow.

"A vanilla malt." Carolyn repeated, sounding just above a whisper. "Michael."

Michael stopped writing and looked up from his pad in surprise. Then, he glanced at his nametag. He pocketed the pencil and paper in his apron and walked behind the counter.

Carolyn quietly watched him stroll into the kitchen. Michael lathered his hands in the sink with a bar of soap and rinsed them off. He toweled them dry, and then he looked through some cabinets. He put two different shaped glasses in front of him.

"Got it?" Jason said to Carolyn.

Carolyn turned away from her faint view of Michael and looked curiously at Jason. Joe Clay sang in the silence.

Jason rolled his eyes and groaned. "She's too chicken--I told you she was chicken!"

"Just take the malt and throw it--" Judy threw her hands at Roxanne's face. Roxanne jumped back and giggled. "--like that."

"Don't hesitate; you'll ruin it." Dick chuckled heartily and glanced over the counter.

Carolyn looked around nervously at each grinning face surrounding her.

"If you can't do it, don't bother coming around anymore. Damn the initiation." Jason's grin soured at Carolyn's hesitation. "I was startin' to like you, too."

Michael returned with a cheeseburger, a glass of water and a plain malt. He ignored some of their strange smiles and nodded. "Enjoy."

"Um..." Carolyn croaked. Michael halted. Carolyn gripped the sweating glass of her malt and stiffened. Then, in an insane burst of grit, she launched the cream into his face.

Roxanne, Judy, Jason and Dick started dying with laughter. Michael's figure is stunned in place at first, but he doesn't stay there long. He walked back briskly to the kitchen, wiping his face with his apron on the way.

A red-headed boy appears with a mop and a pail. On his way to the spill, he stops Michael to ask what happened, but Michael doesn't stop to reply. The boy quickly takes care of the mess as Michael walks into the back. The sudden, ear-shattering scolding from Biggs only fueled the laughter at the table.

"Chester, give 'er a new one--on me!" Dick chortled at the freckled waiter drying the table and then turned to Carolyn. "You're in, baby."

Jason briefly glanced at Carolyn's strained, polite smile and sipped on his water.

When Biggs finally kicked all of them out after closing, Carolyn stopped short of the bubble-gum pink Chevy. She thought it was nice of Jason to offer her a ride home, but she declined. She waved at Dick, Roxanne, Jason and Judy and walked carefully over the gaping potholes in the lot of Bigg's Diner. The Chevy's tires crackled past her heels on the asphalt and rolled into the street. Jason honked goodbye.

Carolyn felt queasy with regret again, and her stroll home slowed into a hesitant saunter. She hugged her books closer to her chest. All she wanted to do was go home and get as far away from the diner as she could.

"Stop."

Carolyn turned around quickly to the soft voice behind her, and then her heart leapt into her throat at the sight of Michael extending her brown corduroy sweater to her.

Carolyn swallowed remorsefully at the dried, cream-colored stain that remained on his uniform. She slowly accepted the sweater from his hand and rested it on top of her books. Michael's expression looked slightly pained but busy. Summer cicada flies buzzed loudly in the long silence between them. Then, Michael's jeans flashed quickly past Carolyn's view of her feet. Even in the blazing afternoon heat, Carolyn instantly felt as cold as ice. Carolyn gently lifted the sweater to her nose: the scent of Michaels hands were all over it. They smelled just like Bon-Ami and cherries.

She followed Michael to the warehouse storefront across the street. The screen door slammed shut after he disappeared inside. Carolyn halted at the sight of wet paint on the doorframe that spelled "Whites Only". Then, she pulled on the loose handle. The door's hinge slackened and screeched open, and then whacked the door frame again.

The aroma of wood, metal, oil, and dust along with the hum of fan lingered in the air. A little girl stopped tracing in a pile of sawdust on the front counter and beamed at Carolyn. Carolyn gave her a small smile, and then found Michael alone in the isle of nails, bolts and screws. Michael picked up different sizes of screws and rolled them very thoughtfully between his fingers. Michael met Carolyn's stare uncomfortably, but then he focused on the shelf again.

He filled a handful of the screws into his palm, and then he poured them onto the front counter. Carolyn trailed behind him. Michael pulled out a pencil-thin paintbrush from his back pocket and placed it on the counter, too.

"Why is your hair so big?" The girl behind the register grinned.

"You asked me that yesterday." Michael ran his hand along the fur of a grey tomcat sitting on the counter. It purred at his touch and its head curled into his palm. "How much?"

The girl's eyes squinted at the sprawled screws. "...One, two..."

Michael distracted himself from the six-year old's loud recital and observed Carolyn's fingernails tracing the hypnotic rings of circles of the counter's plywood. He stared at them briefly and then looked away.

Carolyn spoke. "I'm sorry."

Michael leaned closer to her. "What?"

"I'm sorry."

Michael's expression became even more strained. He thought intensely for a few seconds, and then he gave her a dismissive laugh. Carolyn felt her heart throb feverishly when Michael's chuckle rested into a wide, dazzling smile.

Suddenly, the tomcat trampled over the counter and curled itself into a ball by a glass jar of peppermints. The six year old started over. "One...two..."

Michael slapped a quarter on the counter and thanked her.

The pair left the store and walked down the creaky steps of its porch. The sun glowered above them in the silent, cloudy sky.

Michael's shoes meandered onto the sidewalk as he re-counted the 25 screws in his palm. He tucked the screws in his pants. A thud sounds on the sidewalk, and Carolyn quickly scoops up her fallen textbook. Michael sighs. "Give me 'em." Carolyn blushes at the touch of Michael's skin when he grabs her books.

Michael frowned. "I'm almost done fixing that birdhouse in those woods over there."

"Why?" A rare breeze ripples Carolyn's dress. She tucked some whipping strands behind her ear.

"It was all broken and ugly--just rotting."

The old birdhouse has been that way since the entire town could remember, but no one really paid it any attention. Carolyn waved at a familiar old man driving by in a truck. The man's wave weakened when he spotted Michael alongside her. His wrinkled head double-taked out of his window as his truck vanished around the corner.

"That's silly." Carolyn giggled.

Michael stopped. "Well, no one else is goanna fix it. You goanna fix it?" Michael sounded defensive. After a moment, the two kept walking. Carolyn watched the sidewalk roll without end under her heels. The cicada flies rang from the trees like a swarm of wasps. Michael wiped his forehead.

"Where'd you come from?" Carolyn asked.

"You're real quiet, girl." Michael interrupted. "Indiana."

"Will you stay?"

"Mind your own business."

"...But no one even goes to those woods." Carolyn mentions, thinking about his unusual project again.

Michael took some thoughtful steps along the sidewalk. "I go there...to think sometime."

"Why?"

Michael started to speak, but then his expression darkened. "None of your business. And don't you follow me no more." Michael dumped Carolyn's textbooks in her arms and briskly walked past her with a fat pocket of screws in his jeans and a paintbrush tucked behind his ear.
Chapter 2 by yourburgersarethebest

Chapter 2


Carolyn smiles graciously at Chester when he loops his pencil tip onto his order pad and punches a finite dot at the end of the table's order. When there were no other requests, the young red head pushed off the table and rolled away in his skates. Chester turned too quickly around a table and clattered to the floor, taking a napkin dispenser and a glass Heinz bottle with him.

"What did I tell you about wearin' those skates in my diner, boy?!" Mr. Biggs shouted from the kitchen. "There's a reason we don't wear 'em anymore!!"

Caroyln joined in the hidden snickers of her group while Chester eased himself onto his wheeled feet. He ripped off the skates and staggered behind the counter in his socks.

Judy shook Dick's arm. "That's not nice."

"You were laughin' too." Dick pinched Judy's cheek before she tore it away from his grasp. Judy's glowing smile reluctantly showed itself behind her glossy lipstick.The bright sunlight from the open blinds of the diner made the atmosphere around the table even warmer.

After the short afternoon lunch, Carolyn spent some time looking at the features of faces surrounding her while they talked. Their personalities were all becoming familiar. They didn't notice her eyes memorizing them, but she preferred to study them silently. Then, Michael was there at the far end of the diner, collecting dirty dishes.

Carolyn didn't realize how she looked until she saw her own coquettish expression being reflected back at her from Michael. It was almost closing time. He held their silent stare for a short moment and then he continued to walk away as if it never happened.

"You sure you want to stay, baby?" Dick asked Carolyn for the second time. "You know...he closes. And it's almost four."

Jason cut in. "The boss is still here, she'll be alright." He looked expectantly at Roxanne.

Roxanne pouted and dug out a five dollar bill from her purse and placed it on the table. "Five percent tip--no wonder you're goin' bankrupt, Biggs!" Roxanne huffed to the Chevy in a flurry of bouncy, brunette ringlets.

"Five percent...idiot. Not five bucks." Jason muttered in annoyance as he followed Roxanne and the rest of the group and left Carolyn to herself again.

Like clockwork, Michael piled Carolyn's finished malt glass and the gang's empty, crumb riddled dishes into a black bin. Soon after, his apron was gone and he was outside of the diner. Carolyn was patiently standing there, and the sudden sight of her made Michael freeze. He quickly buttoned up his long-sleeved, denim paisley. "You can't make it so obvious." Michael muttered to himself.

Michael slowly walked along the pavement with Carolyn synchronizing his steps alongside him. Michael took Carolyn's heavy bookcase from her, and Carolyn's hand lingered over his wrist. He instantly got goosebumps. Michael swallowed thickly.

"Why can't you just walk on home without me?" Michael spoke. He stared indecisively at the distant road in front of them that was lined with neatly trimmed, bright green lawns.

Carolyn quickened her pace.

Michael hesitantly catched up to her. "I didn't say I minded, girl."

Carolyn hid a coy smile when he briefly touched her elbow.

"Hello, Carol Jean!" A pearl-necklaced lady chirped from the flower bed she was pruning. Carolyn turned to smile at her as they passed the woman's picket fence. Michael returned no expression to the woman's startled jolt at the sight of him.

"How come you don't go to school?" Carolyn questioned Michael.

"I go to your school. Not for long, though." He kept his eyes low from the occasional glares of strange adults along the street. A woman in a circle of friends pointed deliberately at the strolling pair.

"Why?"

"We're just passin' through. I'll be back in Gary in no time." Michael shifted her bookcase to his other hand.

Michael quickly turned away from a plaid-shirted man with his hands on his hips from across the street. Once they reached her house, Michael returned Carolyn's case. "Bye, now. I ain't doing this no more. Alright?"

"Alright." The silence of the afternoon made Carolyn's small, wispy voice sound strangely loud. Her fingers were calmly gripping the leather of her bookcase against her chest. "Call me." She said.

Michael's fingers prodded his afro nervously and then he stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I don't know." Michael mumbled. His eyes busied themselves with her front lawn.

"Won't you come in?" Carolyn softly suggested.

Michael took one quick step backwards. He looked into her hazel eyes with a serious expression. Carolyn blinked around at the inconspicuous people out on their porches, seeming a little flustered with guilt. She realized that they were in an invisible goldfish bowl with the whole neighborhood staring at them. Michael backed away and turned around to walk along the sidewalk that they had left behind.

Carolyn closed her front door behind her. She adjusted a blanket on her uncle, who was sleeping on a couch, and turned down the volume knob on the television. Carolyn entered her bathroom and closed the door softly so she wouldn't wake up her uncle across the hall. Her hands grabbed a brush and then she sat down in front of a mirror to comb the curls out of her hair. She stripped off her dress, heels, stockings, satin slip and belt and topped the pile of too-bright-colors with her lace bra and underwear. In the bath she smeared off the eyeliner and lipstick and bronzer and eyeshadow from her face with Zest bar soap, the same kind that Judy said had kept her own skin so smooth and pearly.

She then slipped into a fitting cotton romper and dumped her dirty clothes into a laundry hamper. She collected her uncle's folded dirty clothes near the guest room.

Feeling aimless, Carolyn lied in her bed and stared at the ceiling. Her eyelids blink themselves endlessly. The sunlight from her window reminded her that it was a Friday night at five o'clock. A clock nailed high in the corner of her room ticked like a heartbeat of silence.

When she woke up, she made dinner and shook her snoring uncle in time for Nixon's campaign speech. Carolyn and her uncle ate beside each other at the kitchen table quietly while Nixon spoke slowly behind the flickering TV screen.

At a commercial break, her uncle swallowed quickly to speak. "So, you're not going."

Carolyn twirled her pasta with her fork and shrugged. Her uncle brushed some hair out of her eyes. "Why don't you go to bed after dinner--you look tired."

"Okay." Carolyn put down her fork. "I--"

The commercials ended.

"Shh!!" Her uncle interrupted. He gave her an apologetic squeeze of her chin. "We'll talk later." He shot up from his chair and went adjust the TV antennas. Nixon's face fizzled into place. Carolyn watched her uncle sit back down beside her and narrow his light brown eyes intensely at the TV between forkfuls of spaghetti. Carolyn couldn't help but think of how much he looked like her father, despite the fact that he was blonde and her father had brown hair. She wished he would sound just like him. Then, she could imagine he wasn't thousands of miles away.

The phone rang.

Carolyn left her plate and glass of milk to answer it, but her uncle got there first. "Hello?" He asked loudly. "No--he's on mission work, but I'll take a message for 'ya. Who? Carolyn?" Her uncle shared a look with Carolyn, who stood up. She took the phone from her uncle while he took his plate to the couch to watch the live campaign.

"Hello?" A gentle male voice spoke from the receiver.

Carolyn couldn't hear herself breathe over the sound of her heartbeat banging in her eardrums. She let out a calming breath and glanced at the living room. Her uncle was lifting a roll of pasta noodles into his mouth, undisturbed. "Hi."

"Hello?"

"Yes."

"Carolyn?"

"It's me." She said a little louder.

"Oh. Well, I used a yellow book."

Carolyn grinned widely, and chewed on her lip.

"So you're the preacher's daughter."

"Yes."

Michael laughed at himself. "I understand, now."

"Why are you laughing?"

There was a silence on the other end. "Pardon?"

"Why are you laughing?"

Michael chuckled. "Nothing. Don't worry about it."

Carolyn played with her fingernails as Michael told her about his progress with the old birdhouse. "I still think it's silly."

"Fix it yourself, then." He countered a little too seriously.

"Will you take me, Michael?"

"...Pardon?"

Carolyn was quiet for five long seconds.

"Hello?" Michael asked.

"Homecoming is soon."

"Hold on." Michael shouted something angrily when a door creaked open. There was some laughter and then some annoyed muttering. "What was that?"

"Homecoming is soon."

Michael sounded nervous. "I know."

Carolyn could hear the electronic buzz of their connection in the quiet. Kennedy was firing back at Nixon from the TV in the other room. "Are you going?"

Michael sighed inaudibly, and then some rustling sounded when he adjusted himself on his bed. "I don't know."

Carolyn spoke. "Will you take me?"

The long, airy buzz of their connection filled their ears again. A little girl was squealing from somewhere in a room, and in the other, there was a grainy roar of applause from an audience.

"I can't." Michael's voice spoke in a mysterious tone. "Carolyn, I think you're a real sweet, quiet girl. I think you're pretty. Real pretty."

A pleasurable feeling warmed Carolyn's entire body at Michael's soft words.

"But, people are starting to talk. I couldn't take you."

Carolyn swallowed hard.

"I'm sorry." Michael added.

"When do you work?" Caroline fingered the telephone chord and glanced at her uncle again.

"Everyday except Sunday." Michael replied quietly. After a few seconds, he continued. "I'll see you."

Next school day

After the dismissal bell, Carolyn hugged her books to her chest as her heels raced down the the school hallway. A hand flew to grab her shoulder, and she was pulled to a halt. She snatched her fallen sweater from the ground.

"Carol!" The glasses-wearing boy panted. He swallowed exhaustedly. "Gee--you can run!" His eyes looked shocked at Carolyn's shapley red dress. He smiled wearily. "You look good today."

Carolyn fought the urge to writhe away from his grasp. He was her council president after all.

"There's an emergency meeting in a couple minutes--officers and members!" The president gripped his vice president's shoulder.

Carolyn bit her lip at a recent memory:

Jason threw Carolyn a can of red spray paint before he returned to his chaotic curls and zig zags all along the walls of the dark gym. Roxanne and Judy were squealing while they tore down ribbons of crepe paper and popped balloons, and Dick was currently in the corner of the gym during his trek around the floorboards as he poured trails of maple syrup behind him.

Carolyn sprayed an innocent smiley face onto the wall, but then she immediately felt guilty. She had become part of the destruction to her own student council's hard work to set up the gym for homecoming night in a few days. She warred with her emotions while the aerosol can twisted and rolled between her fingers. There was a sickly-sweet scent coming from behind her, and Carolyn turned around to find Dick eyeing her dripping red collage of smilies. He grinned and shook his head with a humored approval. Carolyn managed a tiny, reserved smirk in return. Then Dick continued to pour the syrup alongside his steps as his boots circled the entire gym once more.


"They trashed our stuff again!" He seethed hotly. "Everything! Those assholes!" The president shouted suddenly, banging his fist on the lockers beside them. Carolyn jumped, and a few students turned their heads to the heaving teenager on their way out of the school. The president blushed at the town minister's daughter in front of him. "Sorry." The president began to lead her in the opposite direction from the front school doors to the Home Economics room. "I was speechless, too, Carol." He added sadly. "The principal is trying to find out who did it."

Carolyn thought to make an excuse to tear away from the presidents consoling rub of her arm as he discussed the clean-up plans, but something inside of her wouldn't let her make any hasty decisions. Her feet were dragging her farther away from the pink Chevy rumbling impatiently in the parking lot.

At a quarter to five in the afternoon, the gym was finally clean. Members were assigned decorations to bring tomorrow and were told to not be late for the next meeting. Carolyn scrubbed off her face in the girls bathroom. The sink was draining with all of the makeup that took her all of that morning to finish correctly for Roxanne's approval. She used her dress to wipe her face dry. The rusty mirror reflected an all-too-familiar face with large lips, a flat nose, a speckle of acne and eyebrows that were already growing back hairs she had plucked away. Carolyn quickly twirled her hair in a bun and shoved pins against any limp strands that escaped. The steam from the hot water and soap she had used to scrub the ant-infested, sticky gym floor had made her carefully-curled hair flat, brown and lifeless once more. She grabbed her books and left her reflection in the mirror. She took a secret way home, on a dirt path through the abandoned forest with the old cemetery and the weird birdhouse.

Carolyn's white heels became pinker with each crunch in the red dirt. Eventually, she let herself be barefoot. The dirt felt chalky and hot under the soles of her feet. The trees and the sounds of the forest hadn't changed for ten years. A long-forgotten mental map told her that she was getting closer to the creepy birdhouse.

Carolyn heard some singing coming from a clearing beside her. and she wandered through the trees to find the source. She looked back at the dirt road to memorize her landmarks, and then her heels took her deeper into the woods. The voice was sweet and had a ringing vibrato that echoed off of the pines and hidden oaks. The singing was clear now--she could hear every word.

Her eyes found Michael, who was lifting a handful of seed into the hole of the birdhouse hanging from a low branch of a pine tree. He smiled on a long-held note from his throat, and the echo from his angelic voice floated effortlessly to Carolyn's ears. Carolyn drew closer to the singing man in a long sleeved white shirt and bell-bottoms. As she got near, the ringing vibrato faded and his eyes were staring at her swishing red dress.

Without saying a word, he fed the birds that were huddled and flapping in the wood of the birdhouse. Carolyn observed the new wood, shiny nails, tiny padded roof and intricately carved ledges of the house. For the longest time, her gaze moved slowly over the large decorations of painted blue lilies and tulips. Carolyn's dried brush strokes were delicate and artistic atop Michael's smooth coats of white paint.

"You weren't there today." Michael said, leaning against the tree and disturbing the sound of rustling pine leaves in the wind. She turned to look at him, and something in his steely stare mysteriously shifted. Michael's brown eyes crawl over Carolyn's long nose, soft cheeks, and plump, rose-colored lips.

She turned back to the birdhouse as if his voice was only a disturbance to her observance of their work. Michael lifted a small, tin bucket of sunflower seeds to her hands, and Carolyn dumped a modest handful into the hole. The beady eyes of two birds shuffled quickly to the ledge and pecked on the helping. Carolyn takes off her sweater and tosses it on her textbooks and heels.

The two sit down on the grass and look up at the little house, leaving a safe distance between themselves.

After a stretch of silence, Michael struggles with a smile. "I was waitin' on that vanilla malt with extra whip cream and a cherry. For Miss Carolyn."

Carolyn beams and blinks her hazel eyes up at him.

Michael's eyes wander over the sunlight on Carolyn's face to her bright dress to her naked shoulders to the red dust on her bare feet, and then they rest on her lips. He calmly turns to the view of the finished birdhouse and stares at it, too.

"It was worth it." Michael says firmly.

Carolyn hesitantly comes closer to his side, and Michael acknowledges the movement with a fleeting glance to her knees.

"It's beautiful." Carolyn breathes. Her hands inch towards his, and their fingers twinkle to life at their touch. Her small voice is loud enough to rise above a rustle of tree leaves.

Michael focuses on her hands as they experimentally climb from his arms to his chest and easily lower him to the grass. "What are you doing?" He whispers. His brown eyes shift from Carolyn's lips to her eyes to the deserted forest clearing. Her brown locks are suddenly loose and tickling his chin. He can feel the fine hairs of her nose touching his skin right before he realizes that she is kissing him.

Carolyn slides her hands from his cheeks to his collar, slowly slipping his buttons out of their slits, and then she blindly feels the existence of his bare chest against the earth. Michael cautiously settles his hands somewhere around her, but Carolyn encourages them to ease around her waist. Between breaths, Carolyn's eyes briefly meet Michael's, which are still slightly open with disbelief, but glazed with amazement at how good her full lips feel against his. Michael curiously responds to her, and Carolyn moans breathlessly at the feeling of his large hands slowly gliding down her back.

Their lips graze each others feverishly, searching for the heightened feeling they give each other that is somewhere just out of reach, but then Michael stills, looking nervous. He straightens up.

Carolyn shifts so that her knees are bent patiently across the thighs of his bell bottoms, and then a tense silence follows.

Carolyn finally looks up from the grass to find Michael with the strangest distant expression. Michael's face relaxes when Carolyn presses her petite hands to his cheeks. He chuckles and blinks threateningly. "You're gonna get us in trouble one day."

The slow-growing smile that Carolyn sees centimeters away from her face is daring, but slightly anxious. She smiles back, and her fingers travel along his ears and are soon lost in his pillow of fluffy hair. Michael's lips curl. Carolyn's other hand lovingly does the same, as if it is questioning him to doubt his feelings.

The warm rays of sun and a whistling bluebird reminds them that they are completely alone. Carolyn gingerly molds their lips together.

"Come 'ere, girl." Michael whispered into her. Michael's hands hugged her against him, and then his warm fingers steadily unzip her dress and slide along her bare skin by the fine lace of her bra. Carolyn shakily slips her arms around his neck, and Michael slows their kiss to relish in the feeling of her tongue timidly easing around his. The heat of the summer sun, the closeness of their skin, the sensations of Michael's hidden touches, and Carolyn's sighs against their lips fill their senses to the edge of a white-hot bliss, but then Michael stiffens again.

When Carolyn moves to kiss him, Michael pushes away Carolyn's arms rigidly. He breathes heavily among the sounds of the chirping forest, listening for something. Carolyn sits still in his grip and wonders what she did wrong.

Michael swivels behind them, and a crackle of twigs sounds in the forest.

Carolyn gasps.

A fat hog trots out from the brush and tromps over dead pinecones to its unknown destination past the hugging seniors.

Their wide eyes meet, and Michael bursts out laughing at Carolyn's face. Carolyn snatches breaths of air as her middle crumbles under her giggles.

"I changed my mind about homecoming." Michael tells her. "I talked to my mother--as long as we're careful and come straight home and don't cause any trouble."

The two accepted the declaration and settled in each others' arms.

"You ain't never coming back?"

Michael shifted at Carolyn's question, but prepared to answer it. "No."

Carolyn gripped him a little tighter then. She holds onto what she realized was a tumbleweed or a passing summer breeze in her town that had no purpose but for her to exist in it. Her calendar hung without sound from a nail in her bedroom, decorated with perfectly aligned markings for every Sunday and every Friday; one day of the week was for wearing a modest dress and pearls with a small silver crucifix, and one day of the week was for a simple sweater and a graceful smile to greet the student body full of faces she had always known--or would forever know.

She blinked away from Michael's worried gaze and spoke before he asked her what was making her eyes so dim. "Tell me about Gary." Her vision catches the minuscule twitch of a smile on Michael's lips before he starts to speak.
Chapter 3 by yourburgersarethebest
Author's Notes:
Warning: racial slur.

Chapter 3

"I heard the Reverend's back." The SGA president spoke as he hauled a box of decorations along the sidewalk.

Carolyn nods quickly beside his footsteps, hauling a second box of 20-year-old decorations from the church.

"How was your uncle?"

Carolyn pushed open her fence with her old sneakers and then she responds. "He's quiet."

The president mutters to himself: "No wonder."

The SGA president and vice president threw down two large crates of leftover party decorations onto Carolyn's front porch. Carolyn plopped on her front steps and the president settled down beside her.

He stretched out the legs of his long brown pants in front of him. "Thanks for all your help last time--it was a gas! We got a few pictures too, for yearbook: The SGA Saves Homecoming!" The president drew out a large school newspaper headline with a dramatic swipe of his hand and laughs.

Carolyn only smiles weakly as she thinks about Michael leaving soon.

Carolyn's co-officer pries. "What's wrong?"

Carolyn shakes her head and looks away from the distance to give him a painful, but convincing, grin.

The president returns it with relief. "It's kind of weird--it all went by so fast." He watches a car speed by and nods. "You've...we've changed so much since first grade." The president fidgets with his glasses. "Are you going to homecoming, Carol?"

Carolyn nods and hugs the knees of her overalls to her chest. Her ponytail licks in the fall wind like the tail of a lonely horse on a prairie.

The president raises his eyebrows in surprise. "I am, too." He quickly adds, "It'll be our first and last." He swallows steadily. "You have a date?"

Carolyn shifts at an unfamiliar sight walking along the fence of her house: Jason, Roxanne and Dick. The three walk uninvited onto Carolyn's lawn and crowd around the two officers.

The president looks back and forth between Carolyn and the three members of the neighborhood gang to try to form a connection that made any sense. Jason volleyed a dusty baseball between his hands.

Before long, Dick hoists the president by the collar and tosses him onto Carol's lawn. "Beat it."

The president nearly stumbles on the grass, but then he smiles at Carolyn's honest wave goodbye and disappears.

Roxanne blinks annoyedly when she finally hears the president's footsteps ebb away from behind her ears. "You didn't rat on us, did you? If there's one thing I hate, it's a snitchy bitch." Even though Roxanne was the punchline for every one of the gang's inside jokes, her pointed eyebrows and ice-cold brown eyes reminded Carolyn what Roxanne was truly capable of doing. Jason and Dick stood still for Carolyn's reply.

Carolyn shook her head strongly.

Roxanne's expression melted into a cheery, hot-lipsticked grin. "Alright. Well, we also came over to tell you that Judy left."

Before Carolyn could ask, Jason stepped in. "She just got in a stupid fight with Dick over the black guy in the diner."

"It was so fucking stupid." Dick echoed under his breath. He blinked quickly and slowly shook his head, remembering some cutting words.

"She was just acting weird lately--talking shit about Nixon and stuff." Jason picked at the red thread of his baseball between his palms and looked off into the house next door. "I don't get it."

"She doesn't hang around anymore." Roxanne added after a moment of flashbacks. "No communists allowed." There was a brief murmur of agreement between Jason and Dick.

Roxanne followed Jason to the sidewalk, but shoved Dick quickly before she jogged away from Dick's immediate glare. The two snickered down the sidewalk, trading turns with catches of Jason's baseball.

Dick sat down beside Carolyn, looking oddly defeated and sad. Carolyn squirmed on the brick stairs uncomfortably: she wasn't used to seeing him like that, or being that close to him. In the bright sunlight, she could recognize a tiny dimple in his chin that she remembered being there as long as she had known him. It had faded over the years, but it was still there.

"Where have you been?" His voice asked gruffly. "You haven't shown up at Biggs for a while."

Carolyn looked down. "I'm busy."

"You're always busy!" He looked at her and shook his head. "And quiet." Dick's chest squeezes and expands with every fuming breath he takes. He digs a pebble from the wedge of the stairs and hurls it onto the street. It bounces only once, and Dick watches the pebble while it sits motionless on the road.

"I'm sorry." Carolyn stares back in his eyes.

Dick's blue eyes meet Carolyn's gaze and move imperceptibly over the way her fluttering brown hair creates a floating halo around her forehead.

Carolyn's front door opens. The reverend steps out carefully and lifts a box of decorations into his arms. "Come start dinner." He tells his daughter. His glasses settle on Dick.

"Hi." Dick mutters.

"How is your father?"

Dick shrugs. "How do you think he is?"

Reverend Hill tenses his lip understandingly. He calls Carolyn in again and shuts the door behind him. Carolyn patiently sits for a passing minute next to Dick, but then she starts lifting the remaining box of decorations inside the house.

"You're going with me to homecoming, alright?" Dick calls from behind her figure. "Look real pretty by six that weekend and I'll swing by in the Chevy." Carolyn turns to find Dick strutting away from her porch without another word.

"But...!" Carolyn protests. She quickly turns to Dick, who is paused by the wooden planks of the Hills' fence.

"We'll have a nice time." Dick interjects. His blue eyes blink slowly and honestly.

Carolyn breathes in her place.

"And there's an after party, if you're interested. It's more Judy's crowd, but I think you'd fit right in." His eyes shift. "Don't tell your Pa I said that." Dick walks on towards his house at the end of the block.

Later on

Jason dug in his leather jacket for some syringes stuck deep in his pockets. "And for the afterparty--" His hands peeked out some small syringes from his zipper. "I've got it these."

Roxanne squealed. "Where?"

"From the clinic-lady." Jason leaned toward the diner table. "Nurse wasn't lookin' so I just took the whole stack." Roxanne and Jason shared a grin.

Carolyn's eyes flared with curiosity. "What are they for?"

Jason shook his head and Roxanne sipped on her sweet tea innocently.

Dick playfully jolted Carolyn on his lap. "Don't worry about it, huh?" He waited for Roxanne to blabber to Jason again before he whispered in her ear. "What are you wearing?"

Carolyn blubbered. "Um...it's Roxanne's dress." She braced at the sound of disapproval she thought she could hear in his voice.

Dick took a long inhale in her neck. "That's not what I meant."

Michael came back around to their table, twirling his pencil impatiently. "Have you all made up their minds?" He kept his eyes away from the new couple in the corner of his eye.

Jason sighed loudly, but there wasn't complete annoyance in the sound. He straightened up in his chair. "We get the same thing mostly every week. Me--water. Roxanne--fries and sweet tea. Carol-Jean--a malt. Dick--nothing. I mean...it ain't rocket science, boy."

Dick's chuckle faded at the sight of the storefront from outside. The cowbell clanged on top of the door to welcome the new customer.

Judy's shoes clicked across the checkerboard tiles and stopped threateningly at the table nearest to the bar. She folded her arms on her hips and looked deadly at Dick, who kept his head high and averted. Carolyn couldn't rip her eyes away from Judy fast enough because the look that Judy gave her nearly dissolved her soul.

"Actually--" He faced Carolyn's fainty alarmed look. "Give me a cheeseburger." Dick grasped a handful of Carolyn's thigh. "With extra juicy, red tomatoes."

Michael's eyes flashed to Dick's hand, but he retained a neutral frown for the whole table. "I'll be back." He stuck his pencil behind his ear and looked back at Carolyn's blushing face. "And I'll get your malt for you." His smile was oddly genuine.

"You want extra whip cream with that?" Judy spat at Carolyn.

Jason snickered with Roxanne until they had to muffle their own giggles.

Dick glared at a rusted Route 66 sign on a far-opposite wall. "You bitch."

"Look who's talkin'." Judy replied.

"Why are you even here, sweetheart?" Roxanne sipped questioningly on her tea.

"I'm here because I have great news!" Judy smiled brightly and sat on a stool in front of the table. "The principal finally found out who did it. But, thanks to Carol-Jeanie, we're not in trouble."

"But...." Carolyn started.

"Don't act dumb." Judy silenced her with a humorous squint in her eyes. "SGA gets almost everything from the church. They won't ever punish you." She exchanged looks with her forgotten gang. "Looks like she did you all a favor. You should thank her."

Michael started to leave.

"Hold on--" Judy held Michael's arm. The whole table was instantly bewildered at Judy's sly glance at Dick. Judy looked back at Michael with an inviting grin. "Why don't we go to homecoming together?"

Roxanne's mouth dropped wide open, and Jason couldn't keep his sights on anyone's expression without volleying to another pair of bulging eyes. He cackled nervously. "Judy. I know you've changed but--come on, now."

Michael swallowed uncomfortably. "I don't know."

"Why?" Judy spoke gently between her and Michael, ignoring the look Dick was giving him.

"Because...." Michael glanced earnestly at the kitchen he was dying to hide in.

"Leave the black kid out of this--come on, Judy!" Jason whined.

"Don't mind him." Judy stared deep into Michael's eyes. "You think I'm pretty?"

"Well..." He admired her blonde, curly hair. "I guess, but..."

"Then, what's the problem, honey?"

Michael darkened at a mental image of Carolyn curled up against Dick. "Nothing."

"Alright." Judy lit up at their unspoken approval and released him. Michael looked around uneasily and left to the kitchen. Judy stood and glowered at all of them. "It's time this town changed around here. And it's gonna start with me." She smugly walked towards the exit.

"Niggerlover."

Judy slowed for only a second, the amount of time it took for the word to stab her chest, but she kept walking and pushed out the door to walk herself home.
Chapter 4 by yourburgersarethebest

Chapter 4


"Next month, we'll start makin' plans for the Easter Parade and Egg Hunt, headed by me and Mrs. Wilma--" Carolyn nodded her powdered face at the old woman at the front seat of the pew of deaconesses. "--and then we have the Summer Revival not to soon after that. I know that's all down the road, but it's coming up soon enough. The Lord always asks us to be ready, amen?"

"Ay-meyan." Someone comments thoughtfully from the admiring faces of the town congregation.

Carolyn smiles conservatively and steps down from the minister's podium with her schedule.

"Thank you, Carolyn." A deacon helps her down the small steps and gives the town a message to carry with them as they exit the service. A hymn on a pipe organ hums softly while the congregation shuffles towards the door.

At Carolyn's house

Hours later, Carolyn opens a pot of stew and flinches from the steam. Her uncle shifts out of the corner of her eye on their sofa. She stirs the soup once more and shakes the wooden spoon before placing it back on the counter, wondering how long she'd have to cook for three people.

"Carol." An even, low voice beckons from the front study.

Carolyn peeks slowly into her father's study. There was no visitors from the congregation this time; the room was empty and lit with open window blinds. The plain wooden chair is now filled with the same man that had sat in it for years, but now the man's hair had wisps of grey and graceful wrinkles when she looked at him. There were shelves of books lining the walls--Hebrew dictionaries, Greek alphabet references, Latin novels, Shakespeare, Mormon bibles, New Testaments, Quorans, and a single yellowed recipe book tucked tightly in a corner. They had remained untouched from the day he left for Haiti to the day he returned.

Her father' glasses looked up from his open book and gave his daughter a small smile. "Just like your mother. Come here, Carolyn." He laughed to himself and closed his book as Carolyn walked all the way up to his desk. She took a letter from him.

"Lemuel's been writing you." He said. It was only a command more than a statement. "He says you still haven't written back."

Carolyn glanced coldly at the cursive return address from Harvard University.

"He's studying ministry. And he asked me to be his mentor. Of course, I couldn't refuse. He's a fine boy. Good, respectable family, Christian values--"

"Why is Uncle Jake still here, Daddy? You said he was gonna leave when you got back." Carolyn interrupted. She regretted it when he gave her a stern look.

"He's staying a little longer. He just lost his job."

Carolyn nodded and turned to leave.

"Carol. Write Lemuel."

"...Alright."

"That's not all." The reverend beckoned her back. "I want to talk to you."

She respectfully anchored herself in place.

"Carolyn, it's not easy for me to say this." Mr. Hill smiled, took off his glasses, and rubbed the lenses thoughtfully. He walked in front of her. "You're growing up, yes, I know. You're becoming as beautiful as your mother was, everyday." His grin widens. "I've missed you, very much."

A smile immediately blossomed on her face, but she chewed on her lip to hide it.

"But, there's some things that I will not allow from you."

Carolyn's grin faded and her heart started to race.

"You must always set an example. You can't dress like other girls. They're a bad influence. Understand?"

Carolyn stood still at a thought. He had probably already thrown everything in her closet away.

"Dick Harvey and his friends are not the type of people that you should be with either. Come straight home after school from now on." The reverend looked up when Carolyn hadn't moved.

"Somebody asked me to homecoming, Daddy."

"Carolyn, we've been through this many times." The reverend sighed patiently. "You're going to focus on your exams that night, and you lead the children's school that Sunday. You have no time for that. You're not going with anybody."

The doorbell rang.

The reverend looked back into his daughter's eyes sternly before walking to the front door. The door squeaked open to reveal a dark-skinned boy holding a glistening pecan pie and a blonde girl holding a deep aluminum dish covered with foil.

"Hello, Ms. Biggs; Mr. Jackson."

"My mother wanted to thank you for welcoming us at the service today." Michael spoke, easing the dessert into the Reverend's hands.

"Thank you, son. We'll enjoy. You have a fine family of folks." The Reverend's laughing lines stretched in a reserved smile. "And a large one, too. Is it five brothers?"

Michael nodded humorously. "Yes, sir."

"And this is for you. Grandaddy says welcome back, and come by the diner anytime." Judy smiled.

As the reverend talked to Michael about how he liked it in the town, Michael stole hidden glances into the space behind Mr. Hill. Carolyn eventually emerged from behind her father and gently closed the door in front of him. They all looked at each other accusingly.

"Carol-Jean, I don't have to go with Michael." Judy smiled like she had just learned about their relationship.

"Why?" Michael spoke. "Why are you with Dick? You hate him."

"Maybe so." Carolyn replied quietly.

Michael and Judy looked shocked. Judy earnestly narrowed her eyebrows. "Carolyn. He's way out of your league! He's a disgusting bully! They all are!" She gave Carolyn a serious once-over with her eyes. "And, believe me, sweet pea, he doesn't want you." When Carolyn refused to answer her, she continued. "This was all a bad idea from the start. You should have never joined us. You're not like them. You never were!"

"I'm confused Carolyn." Michael started loudly after an uncomfortable silence. "What is it you really want? Popularity? 'Cause you've got a funny way of earning it, girl!"

Carolyn didn't answer.

"Did our kiss even mean anything? Or, were you just curious?"

Carolyn blinked back tears.

Michael shook his head in disbelief. "I can't wait until I get the hell out of this town." He said hoarsely. He then walked down her porch steps.

"Wait...!" Carolyn stepped quickly toward Michael, but he didn't turn around. Judy looked back at the girl on the porch and followed Michael down the street. Neighbors stood cautiously on the borders of their lawn, watching the pair like hawks.

The next time, at Bigg's

"I don't think you even need my help anymore." Roxanne's eyes danced over Carolyn's short yellow halter dress. "You look better than me in my own clothes."

"Damn right." Jason muttered. Roxanne shoved past his shoulder as she walked past him to the diner door.

"C'mere." Dick motioned for Carolyn and gave her a lighter. "Any girl of mine has to know how to light me."

She stood still with the lighter in front of Dick, who bit a cold cigarette. He shook his head when she couldn't strike a flame after five tries. Dick took his lighter back and blew out a long trail of smoke. "Thanks anyway." Dick's eyes volleyed all over her. "Does your Pa know you dress like that?" He took his time on the delicate bulge of her hips.

Carolyn shook her head.

"Well, amen." Dick grinned. His smile felt like something she shouldn't be allowed to see.

Carolyn nervously scanned the parking lot for her father's black Ford, which could show up at any moment. As usual, the pink Chevy and a few other trucks was all that she could see.

The old cowbell of the diner rang as the senior regulars walked to their favorite table.

Roxanne snorted when she saw Michael wiping off the bar. "Biggs--how come he ain't been fired yet?!"

There was no reply from the old man when he walked in between the corridor with a crate of raw meat.

"Biggs, he hasn't taken our order!" Jason called into the kitchen. Roxanne giggled at Michael's hurry to carry the tube of Bon-Ami and his damp rag behind the lobby and re-emerge with a water for Jason and a sweet tea for Roxanne.

"This isn't what I wanted." Roxanne looks strangely at Michael, who looks exasperated.

Michael took a deep breath. "What do you want to drink?"

"Coffee." Roxanne said loudly, enunciating every small syllable. Dick tied some straw wrappers together and tucked it into the back of Michael's apron.

"And you?" Michael looked cautiously at Jason.

"You're fine. This one's right, for once."

Michael shook his head and went to tell Chester what to cook. A long tail of straw wrappers swished from his waist. Dick quickly nudged the other two to look, and their faces immediately burned red with laughter.

When Michael returns with their orders, his eyes linger a little too long on Carolyn, who is shrinking away from Dick's unwanted touches. Dick blinks at him angrily. "What are you starin' at?"

"Nothing--" Michael shrugs. He sees something white flash behind him, and rips off a long tail of straw wrappers from his apron. The sight of the gag only makes him angrier.

"Then, fuck off." Dick says.

"Hey--relax." Jason presses Dick, who's tone was getting a little scary.

"Leave her alone." Michael demands, clenching his fists.

Dick pushed out of his chair and caused it to clatter to the floor. "Judy ain't good enough for you, is she? You just have to go on and take everything."

Chester peeked out from the kitchen at all of the racket.

"I'm not with Judy. She's just a friend. And I'm not going with her to the dance." Michael backs away slightly at Dick's approaching leather jacket and boots, but he doesn't tear away from Dick's bloodthirsty eyes.

"Who are you going with then?" Dick sneers, glancing daringly at Michael's fists.

"Carolyn."

Dick froze. For a glimmer of a second, his blue eyes grew into saucers. He looked back at Carolyn curiously.

"Michael...." Carolyn's eyes widened at Michael as if she was asking what in the hell he was doing.

"Stay of out it, Carolyn." Michael warned her, not breaking his glare into Dick's eyes.

"Ever since you came here you've been startin' trouble--first our town, now our diner, now Judy, now Carol-Jean--" Dick snatches his arm away from Jason. "--somebody needs'ta teach him a lesson!"

"Can't you see she's scared of you? She doesn't really want to be here." Michael's sneakers withdrew from the boy coming so close to him. The smell of motor oil radiated from Dick like he was a car about to run Michael over.

"You're talkin' like you know her or somethin'."

"Of course I do." Michael grinned. "She's my girl."

"Oh, shit." Jason blurted.

Dick lunged at Michael and knocked him against the bar. They tussled roughly and ripped at each other's collars, exchanging a savage claw to the head in return for every missed punch. Bar stools clanged loudly when the two boys' weight hurled into them. Michael tugged at Dick's red fingers that were squeezing his neck.

Roxanne shrieked at Dick to stop, but their thrashing was too violent to make room for any intervention.

Chester raced away from the grill and shoved Michael and Dick away from each other. Dick wriggled out from Chester's grip and battered Michael to the floor. "Don't fucking touch me!!" Dick panted. He looked back at Carolyn with a disgusted grimace.

Michael writhed painfully on the tile, but a triumphant smirk still remained on his face.

"What in God's name is going on out there?!!" An elderly voice boomed from the back. Mr. Biggs walked to the housefront.

Jason and Dick caused the diner's cowbell to rattle when they scrambled out of the door.

Roxanne glared at Carolyn's outfit. "I want all my stuff back. Tomorrow." Roxanne's pencil skirt twisted over her fast-walking legs as she left the diner.

Mr. Biggs turned to the small red headed teenager planted in front of him, and then he looked down at Reverend Hill's girl who was bending over Michael on the floor. He stared at his main floor in shock. "I'm about near close to firin' both of you boys--all'a this mess at closing time!" Biggs shook his head, removing the cap from his head. His white hair stuck tiredly to his forehead. "Get Carol-Jean some ice, boy--what're you standin' there fer?" He ordered Chester. "An' straighten those stools, will ya?" Chester walked to the freezer and Biggs retired into his office.

Chester handed Carolyn some ice in a dishrag. She pressed the rag tenderly to Michael's injuries as he winced.

Close to homecoming night

Carolyn walked carefully to her father's study for a dictionary. There were many words that Lemuel used that had sailed past her head when she finally read his recent letter. She would have to start from the beginning with all of the definitions right next to her. It was hard for her to focus on anything that night, ever since she had learned that she couldn't convince her father or her uncle to let her go to homecoming. She had called Michael, but something always made her hang up before he could answer.

Then, Carolyn heard a voice inside of the room.

"I can reverse the crops this year--earn some money here n' there. I'll start out as hand, and then maybe I'll join up in the farm business again. If I still remember how t'do everything." Uncle Jake spoke quietly to his brother.

Carolyn could hear her father laugh softly. "It's been a long time--we were just boys!"

"I know all that...but...I don't have much of a choice, now, do I?"

Carolyn started to turn around--the conversation sounded private.

"What was it that Jean said she wanted to do again?"

"Law school." Reverend Hill shifted some things around. "It's impossible."

Carolyn burned with rage when they both started chuckling.

"What she needs to do is settle down, stay in place, and don't get too wild in the head." Uncle Jake let out a long breath and whispered, "She oughta have a mother around."

The reverend hummed in agreement.

There was a respectful space of silence the room before Uncle Jake spoke again. "She's a smart girl. But college ain't no place for her. It wasn't for me, neither. Has she wrote that Harvard boy back yet?"

The reverend and Carolyn's uncle jumped at a harsh slam of a door.

Carolyn shoved her homework off of her desk and watched as the work sailed back and forth and fluttered to the floor like paper pigeons. She ripped Lemuel's letter in half and stared angrily at the romantic loops of black ink on the torn pages at her feet.

The wound dial phone on her dresser rang with a call. Carolyn slowly put the cold metal against to her cheek.

"Hello?"

Michael's voice leaped over the combined sounds of reckless laughter, clinks of dishes and "Bread and Butter" blaring from a jukebox . "My shift's over--Biggs is sending me and Chester home early. My clothes are in the back. You'll be here soon?"

"Yes."

Carolyn could hear Michael's small excited breathing over all of the racket. "Would you mind if I just waited for you inside?" He quickly added, "I think they're used to me, but...you know."

She responded naturally. "I understand."

"Good." Michael squashed out some background noise from the phone with his hand. "I'll be right there in the middle of the dance floor."

Carolyn's heart fluttered in her ribcage at his sweet little promise.

Michael chuckled flirtatiously. "What're you gonna wear for me?"

"Oh, I don't know." Carolyn answered honestly. All of the dresses that made her feel pretty were taken back from Roxanne before she was banned from the gang that she had fought so hard to get into. All she had left were school dresses and service dresses and a couple pairs of pants and overalls. No heels. Still, she wanted to look good for him.

"Is it a surprise?" Michael said after a while.

"Yes."

Carolyn heard Michael laugh again. "I'll be there." The line crackled and ended.

Carolyn quickly punched in another phone in the rotary dial.

On the other end, Judy Biggs picked up the phone with one hand while her opposite hand fluffed out the blonde ringlets of her hairdo in a mirror.
"Hello?"

Carolyn took a deep breath and then asked Dick's ex-girlfriend if she could borrow a dress.
Chapter 5 by yourburgersarethebest

Chapter 5


Carolyn Hill, the president of SGA, and Judy Biggs strolled from the student parking lot towards the faraway sound of electric blues guitars and rolling snare drums.

"I knew it was perfect." Judy commented. Carolyn looked as angelic as ever in the fit-and-flare gown that Judy was saving for Easter. Luckily, Carolyn always saved her white lace gloves for the most special occasions. The embroidered flats were actually from Judy's mother, but Judy wouldn't tell.

Carolyn could finally relax and smile. Some of the guilt of sneaking out was wearing thin. She was also happy to see that the president had found a date after all, with one of the most blonde, popular, and unusually kind hearted ex girlfriends of Dick Harvey.

The gym was wrapped like a present with ribbons and all-purpose Christmas lights in the high school's colors. The main floor jumped with dancers doing their best to hold on to each other as the band blared out their favorite derby-hop. Shiny leather loafers stomped widly on the floor next to dance heels of turquoise, strawberry, and pineapple-yellow, fresh from the newest catalogues.

The three burst into anxious smiles at the sight of their old friends having the time of their lives. The president pulled Judy towards the excitement, but then he hesitated. "You coming?!" He shouted at his VP.

Carolyn shook her head and inched toward the refreshment table. On it's hand crocheted table cloth were carameled sweet potatoes, a roasted turkey, steaming green beans and even homeade apple and pecan pies that stretched along the wall for miles. Carolyn couldn't wait to try a slice of the lemon cake on the end. Carolyn settled for a glass of punch from the table and sipped on it longingly. She peeked at Judy and the president while they easily twirled each other around. Some guys next to her with gelled waves noted the surprising couple.

Out of nowhere, the SGA historian ran up and shoved a camera in Carolyn's arms. She fumbled with her punch, almost spilling it on herself.

"Can you take pictures for a bit?? If you don't mind!!" He shouted excitedly as he ran back to start the jellybean with a tall, brunette senior.

"But--!" Carolyn started to say.

Dick Harvey, who looked like a Hollywood star in his baby blue tucedo, suddenly locked eyes with her. He got the attention of Roxanne and Jason, and they also pointed and laughed at Carolyn, who was standing alone without a date, holding an old camera and punch. Carolyn looked down, swallowing the last of sugar-liquid with a growing lump in her throat. All she wanted to do was go back home. She didn't even care if her father met her at the front door.

Just as she was about to start her long walk home, loud whistles made Carolyn start to approach the circle forming on the dance floor. In the middle was Michael, who was practically dancing like James Brown himself to the funky guitar runs on stage. He was...incredible. Simply incredible. She wondered if he took lessons. His hair had changed: it was much shorter with shiny loose curls. Carolyn's eyes were glued to his every move, but she quickly made good use of the yearbook's camera strapped around her neck.

"Alright, everybody." Announced the sparkly lead singer on stage. He wiped his forehead. In the silence of the band, hard breathing and giggles echoed around. "We're going to slow things down a bit. It's time to grab that lucky lady in three...two...!"

The percussionist lightly tapped on a drumhat in a slow and steady rhapsody. The brass on stage harmonized softly. The ameoba of students from the middle split off into their dates and enveloped around one another. Carolyn glanced around-- turned once--but she still couldn't see Michael. Then, someone eased her around in the dimmed lights.

Michael didn't speak for a few seconds, but then he breathed out in awe. "You weren't lying, were you? You surprised me."

Carolyn cheesed, but then covered her mouth with her gloves. The feeling Carolyn got all over when Michael smiled at her filled her with something that she couldn't stop grinning about. Michael pulled her in, and Carolyn rested her chin on the firm fabric of his tucedo. "All day at work, I've just been waiting for this." Michael's airy voice told Carolyn above her ear. His breath tickled her bare neck. Michael didn't mind Carolyn not answering, because he could feel her heartbeat quicken against his chest. They let the music lead their imagination. Soon enough, under a dense melody, it was just them and the universe.

A tap on Carolyn's shoulder made her eyes open. It was the principal.

"This is your first and final warning about this." He spoke to the couple. "Or, we will have to ask you both to leave. You too, Ms. Hill."

Michael separated from Carolyn slightly. Carolyn's eyes steeled at the principal and the tight-lipped desklady she had known for years standing next to him. "We didn't do anything wrong." She declared.

"They may do things differently at other schools, but...we have our rules here." The principal softened. "All we ask is that our students follow them." With that, the faculty members disappeared to their watchful posts over the dance floor.

Carolyn glared at them as they weaved through the slow-rocking bodies. Some couples near them stared at Michael and Carolyn with confused looks.

Michael squeezed his date's hand to get her attention. "C'mon. Let's go. Remember what I said about not causing any trouble?" He said, sounding just above a whisper. Carolyn nodded quickly, blinking fast. On the way out, he got Carolyn a slice of lemon cake that she asked for.

In Michael's car

Michael's foot pumped the gas pedal of his dad's rusted Bentley. Carolyn gives him questioning stares as the car jolts and whines along the dirt road. The plate of cake rattles in Carolyn's lap. The yearbook camera sits alone in the backseat. Michael's tires slow and crackle along the gravel when the car rumbles to a halt on the pitch-black shoulder of the road on the way to Caroyln's house. Michael fumbles with the ignition. They meet eyes for a passing second as if it will jumpstart the vehicle and take them home out of the darkness closing in around them on the abandoned country path.

The lights of the car flicker out, but the ignition roars over and over again in Michael's feeble attempts to start the car. He shifts the car in park and slumps back in the driver's seat.

Carolyn's last forkful of cake enters her mouth.

"Seriously--we're out of gas!" Michael states to Carolyn's slightly panicked look facing him.

Carolyn ask a question so quietly in her sweet little voice that Michael can barely hear her over the chirps of night crickets. "So, what do we do now?"

Michael stares straight ahead at the endless view of a pitch black mile of red dirt stretching out from his view of the windshield. The new moon makes it even harder to see absolutely anything, but the dark unveiled a glistening blanket of stars in the night sky. Carolyn smooths her gown and finds Michael eyes traveling along the clever ways that the dress's snow-white material wraps around her body.

Michael notices a thick smudge of lemon frosting still sitting on Carolyn's lip and he chuckles. "Well, first...you've got somethin'. Right there." Michael reaches over and wipes it off with his thumb. Carolyn can't help but glance at his finger when it slows down her chin. In deep thought, Michael leans over to the passenger seat and meets Carolyn's dewy lips. They still taste like lemon cream in their slow kiss.

Michael's hands start to roam Carolyn's white gown like they know every curve that the velvet can't hide. Carolyn's gloves move along Michael's shoulders and travel down his feather-built biceps. Michael gently grasps Carolyn's bottom, and earns a small sigh. Then, it takes only seconds for their lips to completely lose themselves in the feeling of each others' mouths, which are warm and sugary.

Michael feels her laced gloves everywhere---over his shoulders, his chest, his neck and his waist. Her hands feel like licking flames all over his body. He lets out a moan to the night air; it's suddenly too hot to breathe. Michael's hands ride up Carolyn's dress. Without her control, her panty-hosed legs lift around his waist. Michael fondles her calves.

A police car cruises by.

They freeze. Michael exhales as he looks back at Carolyn. Carolyn's starry hazel eyes are darting over his face to read his expression, but only her own emotions show--fear. She and Michael breathe, wondering what to feel.

The police car didn't comeback.

Very soon, the sounds of crickets float to their ears again. Their hearts are still beating wildly out of their chests. Michael unwillingly comes to his senses. "We're goanna have to walk for help. It's only a mile." Michael whispers.

He gets out of the car and helps Carolyn onto her feet on the road. Carolyn's gloves pinch Michael's bowtie to straighten it for their journey to the town's only gas pump.

They hold onto each other in the dark and walk for a couple minutes without saying a word. The disappearing car behind them shows their agonizingly slow progress, but between them there's a peace at knowing that the dark hides them from any hate-filled eyes.

Michael walks steadily ahead in his form-fitting white dress shirt. Carolyn peeks at Michael's lean muscles and irresistibly slender frame. She grips his hand. Michael holds it momentarily, but then he slowly twirls her around by her hand and folds her closer to him as they walk. His long teeth and defined laughing lines show themselves in a full smile, but then it dims into a reserved smirk. Carolyn stares briefly at his face to once again see the smile that sent another heatwave through her whole body, but its gone, and now his face is exactly like it always is: distant. Their footsteps make the only sounds in the darkness for a quarter of a mile.

"Carolyn?" Michael says, piercing the wall of noise from the crickets.

"Yes?"

"You know I like you."

"Yes." Her glove presses shyly over her giddy smile from remembering the past half hour ago.

"And--" Michael stops their stroll. "--I hope you like me, the way I like you."

"Yes."

"I was wonderin' if..." Michael shrugged. "I was wonderin' if...you'd..."

Carolyn's light brown eyes brightened.

"Be my girl."

Carolyn hugged him. "Oh, Michael..." Her mouth tickled Michael's cheek with every quiet syllable of his name.

His hands produced a bright coirsage. He fastened it on her dress. "Now it's official."

Carolyn fingered the flower petals and gave him a grateful look.

As they were paused, Michael sighed before saying, "I've got somethin' I wanna tell you."

"...What?" Carolyn replied. She heard something foreboding in his voice.

"I'm going back home. Tomorrow."
End Notes:
Thank you for reading this far!
Chapter 6 & Epilogue by yourburgersarethebest
Author's Notes:

Had a lot of fun writing this cheesy pointless story. Thanks for reading this far. Sorry the ending is sad.

The words flew from him so fast that Carolyn nearly flinched.

Michael rubbed his neck. "I didn't find out until yesterday night. We are living with a family friend here, just for a little while. Until my mom got back on her feet. Now we're movin' back, in another city close to good work." A sad smile swelled on his face, then left. He continued. "My parents don't get a long too well, you see." He mumbled.

Michael clasped Carolyn's hand, but her head wouldn't lift. "Don't cry." Michael's gentle voice said above her head. Carolyn pressed her fingers to her dripping eyes.

Michael's mind thought about it. When his mother turned down a dirt road to enter this honky tonk in the middle of nowhere, the last thing he expected was a white girl to be clinging around his shoulders like this. It was a feeling of guilt that bothered him. He would have to leave something behind when he had never meant to be noticed here, or even meant to be wanted here.

A long, long walk had to be done before Michael could finally fill up his Bentley with the can of gas that only Carolyn could go in to buy--with Michael's own pocket change. He and Carolyn filed into the car and Michael started the engine.

"C'mon, I'll take you home." Carolyn's date stated, saying the obvious with an expressionless face. The mood had soured, oddly, after they finally got what they needed. Michael gripped both of his hands on his steering wheel and didn't press the gas.

Carolyn interjected his thoughts. "I wish I could go with you." She muttered.

"No, you don't." Michael countered.

Carolyn stiffened. His irritated tone stung her.

"Stop playing these little games!" He went on. "You know you don't belong someplace, but you stay anyway! You weren't meant for that gang and you aren't meant for me." He huffed at her silence. "You aren't supposed to be with me. This wasn't supposed t'happen." The truck grumbled underneath them like a volcano.

"But it did." Carolyn defended.

Michael met her eyes and shrank back inwardly. If there was a steelier look from a woman, only his own mother could give it.

"I know who I really am now, because you came here, Michael. Before that day, I--" Carolyn swallowed the lump in her throat. "I didn't know who I was. I just wanted to be somebody other than...." Carolyn fumed in place. "So, I ain't gonna sit here an' pretend like you never existed. But that's what you wanna do, ain't it? Ain't it?!"

Michael stared.

"Well, once I get out of this...pocket'a hell, I'm takin' the first bus to Indiana and I am comin' to see you whether you like it or not!!"

Michael put two hands on Carolyn's shaking shoulders. "OK! Oh-Kay." He had to giggle a little. This side to Carolyn was more than a little scary. "Calm down. Lemme get you home."

Some tears wiggled down Carolyn's cheeks as she caught her breath.

Michael finally parked in the deserted back lot of Bigg's Diner, a few blocks from Carolyn's neighborhood. He turned off the truck and pulled Carolyn into him to straddle his slacks. Their noses almost touched and they looked right into each others' eyes.

"I promise. I'm gonna write you. It might take a little while for it to get down here...." Michael began.

Carolyn's lips twitched.

"...but you just wait. Alright?" Michael Jackson finished.

"Alright." Carolyn Hill echoed.

The couple shared a little smile. Carolyn looked down, suddenly coy. Michael touched her chin, ready to wipe away any more tears.


"You're making it real hard to forget you." Carolyn remembered Michael's voice breathing between them. Michael lengthened their kiss, letting her know that, at least for tonight, he wasn't going anywhere.


Epilogue

Carolyn walked into her morning class with her flowery smile. In the last six months of high school, the student body could still say with complete certainty that Carolyn Hill was innocent to a fault. Only some things had changed. Now, Carolyn seemed to smile more and talk more, and her cinnamon-brown hair had grown to the middle of her back. It was a mystery, though, why she took so many trips to the hardware store these days.

Jason, who was now a regular face after-school at the SGA meetings and who was the re-instated treasurer of the math team and chess club, had been working himself up to ask Carolyn out for weeks. He had missed his chance for homecoming, and swore not to let other people control his life as much as Dick had done ever again.

As students poured out from the front doors after the dismissal bell, Jason's eyes volleyed through the crowd. Carol Jean descended briskly down the stair s and was about to start on her way home until Jason lightly took hold of her arm. Carolyn spun around to see Jason. She still couldn't get used to seeing his hair combed neatly instead of gelled into a flashy pomp. She accepted his odd request to walk her home.

When it was just the two of them in front of the reverend's house, Jason started, "I don't wanna bug you, but I was just wondering. " Jason pushed himself to go on, wondering more about why it was so hard to ask her to lunch. It was Carol-Jean for Pete's sake! "Do you wanna go grab something after school tomorrow?"

Carolyn shook her head. "No, thank you. But, I'll see you tomorrow." She continued down the sidewalk, her brown curls bouncing behind her.

Jason blew, out of disappointment and enchantment. Maybe next time.

When Carolyn hurriedly filed through the mail in her mailbox, she deflated. There was still nothing from Indiana.

Later, when Carolyn went to start dinner for herself, her father, and her uncle that now worked in the nearby cornfields, she noticed a package on the kitchen table. The label was from Cambridge University Press in Boston, Massachusetts.

Carolyn opened the box. The smell of fresh ink floated to her nose. Gilded on a plain volume was Society and Law.

"I hope you like them." Reverend Hill called from the study. "They're brand new, and they will prepare you for college. So be careful with them. And there's a letter for you on the counter. Remember Michael Jackson?"

Carolyn gushed with excitement. As much as she wanted to squeeze her father in a hug, she knew that he didn't like to be disturbed when writing holiday sermons, especially for Easter. Carolyn held the yellowed envelope in her fingers. It wasn't Lemuel's perfect cursive. This handwriting was boyish. The sight of the address was already making her knees weak.

Carolyn retreated to her room and locked the door, leaving the stove untouched. Pages and pages and pages and pages of smokey-scented paper piled at her sides, waiting to be read next. She devoured Michael's penciled words, alone.

Michael's news was good. He was working a steady job to help out his family now that his father wasn't the breadwinner anymore. He wrote that he still found time to dance, and had thought about saving up for some real classes, but that wasn't too serious of a thought at the time. More tender words were saved to explain exactly how much time he had spent thinking about her. Her vision became teary as she read on, but a hopeful smile grew on her face when Michael wrote how he dreamed of the day that he would see her again.

End Notes:

Thanks for reading. (:

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