Fiends. Part 51

We picked up a lot of speed by the time we reached George's house. Neither of us looked at it. I didn't hear the screen door slap shut, so I figured we must've shot past too fast for the little scuzz. Then I looked back.

George, hunched over the handlebars of his ten-speed, swooped down his driveway and swerved into the street. He pumped his pedals like a madman trying to catch up.

*Oh, no,' I muttered.

Jim glanced back. *Terrific. You and your great ideas.'

*Hey, wait up!' George yelled.

*Wanta ditch him?' Jim asked.

*G.o.d d.a.m.n it! The h.e.l.l with ditching him.' I slowed down. So did Jim.

George closed the gap. Riding between us, he matched our speed. *What's up?' he asked.

*Not much,' I said.

*Where'd you guys go yesterday?'

*Nowhere,' I said. This hot feeling went through me. It was shame, whether I wanted it or not.

*I got a sudden case of the trots and had to go home,' Jim explained. *Sorry we couldn't wait for you. But it would've got pretty messy on the street, you know?'

*Gosh, I'm sorry.'

*s.h.i.t waits for no man,' Jim added.

George laughed. *So, you okay?'

*Fine,' Jim muttered, and gave me the eye.

*So, where we going?'

Jim had saved us with the trots story. Now it was my turn. *The pool. Over at the Jefferson Recreational Center.'

George's smile faded. *The pool?'

*That's right,' I said.

He looked confused. Frowning at Jim, he said, *Don't you have a pool?'

Jim didn't miss a beat. *Sure, but all the babes are at the public pool.'

*You got your trunks with you, George?' I asked.

He gave our bikes a once-over. *Where's yours?'

*Wearing 'em,' I said, and patted the seat of my jeans. *Underneath.'

*Oh.'

*You'd better go get your trunks,' Jim said, *and we'll meet you at the pool.'

*I don't know where it is.'

Jim gave him directions. George listened, frowning and nodding, then made sort of a nervous smile and said, *Okay. Guess I can find it.'

*Great,' Jim said.

*See you there,' I said.

George swung his bike around and pedaled for home.

Jim and I gave each other grins. We headed for the mall.

At Music World, we roamed up and down the aisles pretending to look at stuff while we watched Cyndi. I felt a little guilty about the dirty trick we'd played on George, but forgot about it when Cyndi came over to us. It was almost too much for me, being this close to her. The way she looked and smelled made me ache.

*Can I help you find something?' she asked.

I didn't trust myself to speak. All I could do was shake my head.

*We're just browsing around,' Jim said, the way he always did when she or one of the others came over like this.

*Fine. If you need any help, be sure to let me know.'

*We will,' Jim told her.

She smiled and walked away.

*Oh, man,' Jim whispered. *What I'd givea'

*Yeah.'

After she'd left, we had to settle for watching her from a distance. She spent a while helping other customers, and then Bobbi Andrews came into the store. She was the head cheerleader, but nothing at all like Cyndi. While Cyndi was slender and graceful and beautiful, Bobbi was squat and had a face like a rabbit. She was really popular, anyway. There were three reasons for that: her pep and two humongous knockers. I couldn't care less about any of that. Personally, I thought she was a waste.

But she was Cyndi's best friend.

They got together near the back of the store and started talking.

We figured that Cyndi was too busy with her to notice us, so we wandered down the aisle for a better view. We were pretty careful about it. We pretended to be greatly interested in various CDs and alb.u.ms in the trough along the way, and got to the end of the aisle.

Cyndi was close enough to touch if I leaned forward far enough. She stood in the next aisle, leaning back slightly. The edge of the trough just behind her pressed a dent into her pleated skirt - into her rump, too. I could see the straps of her bra through her white blouse. The way her head was turned, I could see the fine, downy fuzz on her smooth cheek.

'... by ten, I think,' Bobbi was saying when I started to listen. *No later than eleven.'

*No problem,' Cyndi told her. *Don't worry about it. We'll just be pigging out and watching movies.' Grinning, she nudged Bobbi with her elbow. *At least till my parents. .h.i.t the sack. You won't miss much. Just don't forget to bring that extra sleeping bag.'

*Hope Doris doesn't fart in it.'

Cyndi elbowed her again, and laughed.

Then Jim elbowed me, and we got away before they could notice we'd been near enough to hear them.

Outside the store, Jim grabbed my arm. *Did you hear that?' He was flushed and breathless. *She's having a slumber party. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?'

I was.

*You think it's tonight?' he asked.

I knew she didn't work at Music World on weekends. This was Friday. *It's gotta be either tonight or tomorrow night.'

*Yeah!'

We took the back route to my house so we wouldn't have to pa.s.s George's place. When we were safely out of sight in the garage, Jim said, *Wonder if he's still at the pool.'

*You'd think he might get the message,' I said.

*Kids like that never get the message.'

In the house, I asked if Jim could stay the night. Mom saw no problem with that. She suggested he stay for supper, too. Then we made a trip by the backyards to Jim's place. He got his mom's permission. After he put together his sleeping bag and overnight stuff, we returned to my house.

It didn't take long to set up the tent, toss in a couple of pads from the patio lounges, and arrange our sleeping bags.

But the waiting took a long time.

Nothing in the world takes longer than waiting for something really great to happen.

Finally, Dad got home from work. Finally, we ate supper. Finally, darkness came and we went out to the tent.

We had to wear our pajamas and leave our clothes behind. That was how we'd always done it in the past, and we didn't want to make my parents suspicious by doing anything differently. It wouldn't be a problem. They expected us to make a few trips back and forth to brush our teeth, use the john, that sort of thing. Once they were off to bed, it would be a cinch to sneak our clothes out.

We took two flashlights into the tent with us. And a couple of cans of Pepsi and a bag of onion-flavored potato chips. We zippered the fly screen, but left the flaps open to get some air. Inside, we sat cross-legged on our sleeping bags and started snacking.

*This is so neat,' Jim said.

*The chips?'

*You know.'

*G.o.d, I can't believe we're gonna do it.'

*I just hope we can see something.'

*It's a one-storey house,' I said, *so they sure won't be upstairs.'

*As long as they don't shut all the curtains.'

*They won't. They can't. It'd be too cruel.'

Jim laughed softly. *When do you think we oughta get going?'

*We'd better wait till after eleven.'

*Man, I hope we don't miss everything.'

*Bobbi won't even be getting there till then. Anyway, they'll probably be messing around all night.'

*We wanta be there in time to see 'em change.'

*Change into what?'

I wasn't the one who asked that.

George was the one who asked that.

We both flinched and jerked our heads toward the front of the tent. And saw George crouched on the other side of the fly screen, his piggish face gray in the darkness. We shined our flashlights on him. He squinted and said, *Hiya, guys.'

*What're you doing here?' I snapped.

*You having an over-nighter?' he asked, just as calm as if he hadn't heard me.

*This is private property,' Jim told him.

*Can I have some potato chips?'

*You can't come in here,' I said. *There isn't enough room.'

*I gave you guys my Twinkies.'

*Okay, okay,' I said. I didn't want to argue with him, just get rid of him. So I unzipped the screen and handed out the bag. *Help yourself. You can have them all.'

*Gee, thanks.'

*Why don't you take them home,' I said, *and share with your parents.'

*Oh, they're out.' He stuffed a handful of chips into his mouth.

*Give some to your sitter,' Jim said.

*Sitter?'

*They didn't leave you alone, did they?' I asked.

*Sure. Always do.'