"Anyway," Andy said after he was done hugging his sister and sort of shoo'd her off, "What was all that?" Jared glanced over, waved at Ricki, but then focused on the big man; he did manage to cadge kielbasa on a roll and put mustard and kraut on it while he talked, "I don't know. Your sister and I are working on an English project together and I was over at the house, but Maureen and Krista showed up and so I rolled, because it was after practice and I was tired. That's when Livingston started chasing me in his truck with me on the bike and that's how that happened." "Nothing else?" "Not really, your sister's a nice girl, but I've only known her for a couple weeks, man." Andy waved off the last part, "Yeah, no worries. I just wanted to know what that was about, because it seemed like Livingston has a real problem with you. But if it's Gabe and my sister, why did he come after you like that?" "I don't know, he seems pretty insane to me," Jared admitted, "But his father kept it from going any further than that with the Highway Patrol." "Well, you put a good shiner on him, at least. Not much his father can do about that." "Seemed like the thing to do." "Indeed it was," Andy clinked the beer bottles, "but I just wanted a clear picture of..." "Andy, are you going to bother Jared all night?" Heather asked, even as she draped arms around Jared, "Because I feel that I have at least a bit of a claim on Jared Landry tonight since we are attending the Winter Formal together." It was a little much, having her run hands over him, and it was a good thing he had a shirt on, or it might have gotten to be like a Calvin Klein advertising pose. "Of course not, Head Cheerleader Sir," Andy barked out in mock salute, "I was just wrapping up the interview with Mr. Landry here." "Good," Heather purred, "because he's mine." --- There was a serious dance floor element to this party, though it was, once again, guys that seemed more inclined to drink instead of dancing, but there was a mix of music to dance to -- someone had the good taste to rotate between different types of music that could be danced to, from pop to more ethnic selections that, quite frankly, one wouldn't here at a Malden Catholic party. It was a California thing. Heather kept Jared drinking and on the floor, which seemed to work out well from the perspective of not having to talk too much about anything -- Livingston, Trenton's brothers, Gabe's worries about how things looked. The rotation was from the dance floor, sweating the alcohol off, to the pool, to cool down, and then back on the dance floor once toweled off from the pool. Somewhere in there was Hector South, of all people, dancing, though Maureen and Carl were suspiciously absent. While the dancing went on, there was some touching and some kissing; it was hard to say when that started, but once it did, it kept going, perhaps fueled by the alcohol, the thrill of the win, the music and the dance floor, but they didn't see fit to break off the dancing in order to find a room in the Carl and Maureen mode; Jared was tired, but the whole thing seemed to give him an extra reserve of stamina to draw on. Eventually, though, the aches and pains of the game caught up with him, and while Heather was doing whatever she was doing in the bathrooms, Jared slipped into the hot tub, to find Gabe there with beer in hand, which was sort of the exact pose Jared found himself in. "Holy fuck, my goddamn legs are sore." Jared groaned, as he slipped into the water. It was a big enough hot tub; his first party, Carl told him to wear bathing shorts, now he knew that it was standard issue stuff. His were old Malden ones; blue, white and gold, though he'd seen some dudes wearing stuff that looked a lot more flamboyant...jock socks, and other things that couldn't be unseen. "They ought to be, you had to turn with that Jacob Jacobs guy. At least it's a win, right?" "Yeah, I think Carl's getting more out of it than anyone tonight. I haven't seen him or Maureen all freakin' night here." "How are you and Heather hitting it off?" Gabe asked casually, but Jared gave him a look. "I dunno, how are you and Ricki Trenton hitting it off?" Jared asked back. "Seems good." "Try not to be a psychopath, I hear she doesn't like that." "Gee, thanks Landry, I'm glad you came up with that gem," Gabe intoned dryly. Jared finished the beer and was drinkless, though he was a bit worried about how much he'd sweated out and being in a hot tub; fuckit. He had a good buzz going, but it was a perfectly alright feeling. "Yeah, well good advice is selling at beer prices right now. But yeah, I dunno, Heather seems okay. I mean, I was a little worried when she sat next to my mom in the game, but that seemed to work out okay." "Well, I guess it all ends well. I'm taking Ricki to the formal, you caught Heather when I fumbled that and Andy Boy is probably going to have to restrain himself from ripping Livingston's arms out of his sockets like a Wookiee." "Yeah, I got the impression that Andy's not the man to be on the bad side of." "Yeah, picked up on that, didn't you?" grumbled Gabe, who was probably thinking of his own problems -- the man had, after all, screwed the dude's sister. --- The party ended and people either went home or didn't -- Carl was pretty sober after it was all done, and driving people home, but toward the end, when it was just him and Jared, who was still sobering up, there was a quick conversation. "How'd it go with Heather, man?" Carl couldn't get that dumb grin off his face. "It went fine. We danced, we made out, we danced some more." "You just danced and made out? Man, you gotta strike while that iron's hot!" Jared, however, gave Carl a sidelong look and thought of a way to change the subject. "So, Carl, after all that victory celebration, did you at least put some of Gabe's sheets in the laundry afterward?" "Aw, snap," Carl slapped his hand to his head. "Don't worry, Maureen probably caught it. Either that, or you're never going to hear the end of it, Gabe's a neat freak. I mean, have you ever seen the guy's hair messed up?" Finally, Jared was deposited at his mom's condo, a kind of dinky affair; Moira saved money and got a place she could renovate and resell, using her savings to fuel the project. She was used to the do-it-yourself end of things, having a kid to raise as a single mom and few resources to do that with as she managed to pull through her education. It still made Jared feel a little guilty that he left her alone a lot more than he should, but at the same time, he had a life to live. The light was left on, and that meant that she knew he was going to be late. Sure enough, the next morning, he heard about it, "Are you sure about all this hockey stuff on top of school? You're burning a couple candles here, kiddo." "Yeah, I dunno, seems like it's working out for now," Jared said as he got himself some orange juice and poured cereal. "Well, let me count off all the things going on since you've started hockey here," she stuck up fingers point by point, "You've managed to mess around with two different girls, you've gotten your bike run over by a crazy steroidal football jock, and you're out partying a lot. How are your grades holding up with all this? You aren't telling me much about what's happening here, I'm finding out by phone call. I have to know before we go any further with this, because I don't want you..." "...making bad decisions. I know." Jared sighed and grabbed his school stuff, including the most recent graded material he'd gotten back, "I mean, I know we aren't talking as much, but you're busy and I'm busy. I'm trying to fit in here." Maureen was eyeing the school work, but there wasn't much there to throw back at him, "Well, at least there hasn't been any sign of a concussion or other cranial trauma creeping up in your work, but I worry about you kiddo...you're almost a man grown up now and sometimes it feels like...I dunno, like you're being thrown to the wolves a bit here in California while I'm doing this new job at the university." Jared glanced up as she talked, as she clapsed her hands and unburdened herself; his mother always seemed like a rock -- a bit nosey, and definitely hardnosed Boston Catholic Irish, but this seemed unusual. "Uh, I dunno Mom, I think I'm doing okay out here. I mean, losing the bike is a pain in the ass, but I guess I'll just get another. I gotta figure out what to wear at the Winter Formal though..." "Yeah, I heard. That girl likes to move fast, I hope you didn't..." The fears of a teenage mom coming to the fore. "Nothing more than dancing and heavy petting." "I thought after Catholic school, I'd have to leash you myself. Then again, a girl like that's on the pill for fear of her figure..." "Mom!" he protested. "Yeah, nevermind. Just have fun, kiddo. But don't take your nose off that grindstone," she said threateningly. Saturday passed largely without incident as he got a handle on his assignments between taking time to text back in response to the texts he tog; Carl with gory details that he didn't want to see and some from Heather. The surprise on Sunday was Rick Masters, asking if he needed to pick up any clothes for the Winter Formal. "Make sure to ask her what she's wearing for a dress." "How the hell did you learn this stuff?" "Believe it or not, I went to high school once. And I know the rules for dressing right for this sort of thing. You're east coast, so we'll hook you up for that look." The shopping was kept simple, but he came away with a J.Crew Ludlow in a gray check pattern, a tie with a paisley woven pattern matched to the 'red' that he got back from Heather on the dress color thing, that went with the Oxford collar shirt he already had, which had blue stripes. "It'll work, casual enough for the winter formal, but not dressed to the nines. Throw on some blue pants and you'll be on top of the game, trust me." "You sure?" "Your mom would probably stop seeing me if I steered you wrong." Even with the advice, the Winter Formal thing worried him, mostly because he lacked the vehicle to transport Heather in a style that befit her status on the school totem pole; it was one thing to pay out of pocket for clothing to do it right, it was another to figure out how to get a car, because renting a vehicle as a seventeen year old was impossible. He mentioned it in passing to Rick, but was too preoccupied to hear much of the answer. Carl wasn't much help on Monday, "I dunno man, but I tell you this much. She ain't gonna want you to take her in a hooptie like this here that I'm driving. Good thing Maureen isn't...uh...yeah." Carl didn't want to finish that sentence. "Shit, you think the complications would stop coming," Jared observed glumly, as he took down his coffee, gotten at a 7-11, and tried to wake up. "Naw homie, doesn't work like that." "What doesn't?" Carl laughed and then answered, "Life."