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Chapter Four

 

Shawn knocked back the last of his cola, a darkling look in his blue eyes. “I can’t wait any longer!” he exclaimed. “It’s killing me!”

“What is?” Cory asked, inattentively. Topanga was laughing up into the face of his hated rival Dillon Abercrombie like she was having the best time in the world. He dragged his eyes away to gaze at Shawn.

“Angela! Well, not Angela literally. But not…you know,” he said, lowering his voice, “being with her. I don’t know how much more I can take, man. I need some lovin’ from my woman!” he added with a fierce look.

“Yeah! Me, too. I mean, from my woman. Not yours.” Cory commented, his voice a bit slurred, but Shawn didn’t notice. He was too distracted by Angela to notice nuances. However, the statement drew his attention.

Shawn shot Cory an exasperated look and rolled his eyes. “Has Topanga even talked to you lately?”

“Well, no, but a guy can hope, can’t he?” Cory asked.

Shawn grunted and rubbed the back of his neck. He hated being so short with Cory, but he was on edge these days like he’d never been before. He was sexually frustrated, and it was being to take its toll on him. In the past, if a girl didn’t put out or give him what he wanted, then he was gone. No skin off his nose. But with Angela, all that had changed. He didn’t have the option of tossing the the relationship aside. He was in way too deep and invested as he'd never hoped or thought he could be. Yet it seemed as though he'd inadvertently traded love for sex. And in the beginning it had eneough to sustain him, but the deeper in love he fell with Angela, the more he longed for physical contract. The more he wanted to be a part of her and have her be a part of him. He stirred against the wall, leaning his back and head against it as he closed his eyes. He was in love with his sexy, intelligent and cultured purse girl, and no one else would do for him. A disgruntled sigh escaped him. He raised his eyelids slightly, morosely watching her having a good time.

Cory followed the line of his vision to see Angela dancing with some guy he didn’t recognize. His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized her. He could see what Shawn was getting at. As much as he loved and admired Topanga, he couldn’t deny that Angela was hot, too, but no more so than usual. Nevertheless, he squinted to took a closer look at her. She was wearing a sexy halter top that clung to her small breasts. A short black mini showed off the slender set of legs that were encased in sheer back hose. Spike-heeled black sandals made those same legs appear endless. As she moved to the music, he noticed that the gentle swell of her behind was accentuated in that figure hugging skirt. All in all, she did look very pretty and yeah, hot by any normal, red blooded guy’s standards.

“I see what you mean,” he conceded.

“Do you?” Shawn queried moving over to the bar. They were at yet another in a string of senior class parties. This one given by the co-captains of the football team: Ted and Dillon. Shawn had been all for passing up their party for a night alone with Angela at her house. Her father was once again out of town, but Angela had made a big deal about being worried about Topanga being with Dillon who was rushing her hard. Her argument had won his grudging consent especially when she pointed out that Cory would be there, too, predictably eating his heart out. The effectiveness of diverting the focus of his attention to his friend from being alone with Angela had endured until the night of the actual party. Now he was regretting his decision.

He eyed his girlfriend bitterly. “It seems like she’s getting prettier and finer every damn day, Cory. When I promised to wait for her to give us the green light, I didn’t know it was going to be this hard. I want her so bad," he whined feverishly.

Angela moved with any easy and conscious sense of rhythm even as Shawn devoured her with his eyes. Dancing with a casual acquaintance of her boyfriend who knew better than to make a move on her, thus Shawn was able to view the innocent yet sex.y movements of her body without jealousy if not without arousal. He caught Angela’s eye, and she blew him a kiss. His body jerked in reaction, causing a pained expression to settle upon his features.

“This is getting to be ridiculous,” he groused sourly. Now his body not only responded to her voice but her gestures, too, just as if he was wired like some voice response mechanism, or some crazy crap like that.

Cory gazed at Shawn with concern, his mind finally off Topanga. “Look, Shawnie, you’ve got to relax.” He sipped his punch for fortification, having added a general slplash of booze from his small flask to the treacly sweet liquid while Shawn wasn't looking. “Yeah, the girl’s has got you by the balls, but if you don’t dial it down a notch, at this rate, you’re going to be a nervous wreck before Prom and graduation.”

“Who’re you telling?” his libidinous friend asked with a hint of sarcasm. He didn’t know if he was going to be able to make it through the night. He’d never been in this predicament before, and it sucked. Angela wore her hair straight and although Shawn preferred it curly and slightly wild, there was no denying that the upswept do accentuate her slender neck and shoulders. Sleek ribbons of curls flowed down the back of her head from a topknot. And a peek-a-boo fringe of hair across her brow gave her lightly made up eyes a smoky come hither look. The touch of bronze gloss on her lips made him long to lick it from her lips, and enjoy the adventure of discovering which fruit it mimicked as he tasted her. He couldn’t help the wave of heat that dampened his brow at his thoughts. He was thankful that the baggy pants and long shirts he favored covered up the lower portion of his body, camouflaging the erectness of his manhood which seemed to be doing a pretty good imitation of a honing device, accurately divining Angela’s whereabouts at any given time.

And that’s the problem, he thought with an inaudible groan. I don’t even have to smell her perfume or hear her laugh to know exactly where she is. It was unnerving and at the same time very exciting. He curiously wondered if she ever experienced a similar phenomenon.

~*~ 

Even from across the room, Angela had sensed his eyes on her. Felt the heat of blue fire as it traveled over every inch of her body, the flames licking at her and disturbing her peace of mind. They were so in tune that she didn’t even have to see one of Shawn’s smoldering looks for it to affect her. He’d been watching her like a predatory animal who was intent on stalking its prey, and the thought alternately excited and scared her. Then his eyes met hers, and sure enough, those light blue eyes were traveling up and down heer body, their expression scorching and frankly sexual. She quickly played off their effect on her by blithely throwing him a kiss and quickly turning her head to face her generic dance partner. Shawn had never been big on dancing and so didn’t mind if she indulged one of her favorite pastimes with other guys as long as the dancing didn’t involve touching. She wondered how long it would be before he decided to stop babysitting Cory and came to collect his reward for agreeing to attend and escort her to the party of a guy he regarded as a hated rival and foe. From the looks he was gving her, it wouldn’t be long. She shivered now at the memory and two pointed ends pushed at the front of her purple, satin halter top. Mercifully, the dance finally ended. Angela smiled her thanks and escaped before the guy could attempt to pull her back for another dance. She approached Topanga, who had also just finished dancing.

Topanga looked at her and raised her eyebrows.

“You cold?”

Angela crossed her arms over her chest. “No. It’s Shawn,” she said a little shakily. “He’s looking at me.”

Topanga squinted and glanced around her to where Shawn and Cory were were standing. “What else is new? He's always looking at you.”

“It’s just that when he looks at me like that my body reacts automatically, never mind what my head might be saying.”

Topanga stole a glance at Cory. “I know exactly what you mean. It’s crazy how a guy can affect you like that.” She sighed. “And the funny thing is they don’t even know their doing it.”

Angela laughed humorlessly. “Oh, he knows,” she said dryly. “He’s very aware of his power over the opposite sex.” And me, she thought, biting her lip at the admission.

Angela jumped as masculine hands made contact with the bare skin of her shoulders.

“Hey Shawn,” Topanga said belatedly.

“Hey Topanga,” he murmured as he laid a soft lingering kiss on Angela’s temple.

“Bye Shawn.” She waved at him wiggling her fingers playfully.

Angela glared at her for not warning her and then abandoning her after everything she’d just said. However, the moment she felt his lips on her neck, all thoughts of Topanga and her treachery faded away. Her eyes closed and her head fell back, supported on Shawn’s chest. He smelled so good. His hair tickled her tickled her shoulders, sensitizing the skin even more. His hands trailed down her arms, leaving a path of fire in their wake. A slight moan slipped from her as she felt the hard rise in his pants against her rear. When he cupped her small breasts through the silky satin material of her halter, Angela forced herself pull away from him even as her body screamed for her to let him do what ever he wanted, touch whatever he wanted to touch.

“Shawn, baby, I-I don’t t-think…” she stammered.

“Come with me,” he said urgently, grabbing her hand. Angela reacted to the low intensity of his voice, docilely following him where he led over to a rather dark and secluded corner of the room where the room’s low light failed to penetrate and away from the gyrating and sweating bodies of their friends and classmates.

Stopping rather suddenly, he backed her up against the wall, his hands pulling her hips to his groin. Angela wondered if she’d imagined the sensuous flash of heavy lidded blue eyes before his lips came down on hers. Angela gasped at the sensation of rock hard bulge being ground into her abdomen, and Shawn slipped his tongue between her lips. Her hands instinctively crept up his chest, his neck and into his hair, pulling him closer as she responded, her tongue answering his and exploring his mouth. Shawn groaned.

His large hands abandoned her hips to caress the rounded cheeks of her bottom through the material of her short dark skirt. Angela moaned against his mouth, the feel of his tongue and hands sending shivers of desire down into her secret place. Dewy moisture materialized at the apex between her legs. The tips of her breasts extended, and Shawn, as though sensing their excitement, trailed a hand up along her body. It came to rest on the side of her breast, his thumb passed over the hardened crest. And then his hand, warm and slow moving, slipped underneath the gaping material of her halter to fondle the quivering orb. A mindless mass of longing and passion, she moved her legs further apart when Shawn placed his other hand under her skirt, lifting one of her legs up to wrap around his waist. Mindless with anticipation, her body craved his touch. More wetness pooled at her center.

As he began fingering her through the barrier of her lacy panties, Angela whimpered, instinctively moving her hips against his hand as pleasurable sensations like she’d never felt before began building inside of her.

Then all of the sudden, his hand was gone, and he was pulling her skirt down and quickly adjusting her top before stepping in front of her. Bereft of his lips and hands, Angela began to protest his cruel abandonment. The words died on her lips once she opened glazed eyes and saw Ted bearing down on them.

“Hey Hunter, you deaf? I said you better get your ass—” Ted stopped short and his mouth tightened with displeasure when he spied Angela behind Shawn. He’d participated in enough heavy make out sessions to know without a doubt what they’d been doing, especially if the drowsy eyed, dazed look on Angela’s face and Hunter’s swollen, blood red lips were anything to go by. He stopped just in front Shawn who he resented for having gotten further with Angela than he had. She'd never allowed him more than a couple of brief, chaste kisses, and here she was all but having sex with this obnoxious white guy against his living room wall. His hands unconsciously curled into fists at his side.

Although he was looking in Ted’s eyes, Shawn saw that he was preparing for a fight but his only feeling was one of impatience. Choir boy and rich kid, Brazelton really didn’t want any of Shawn Hunter, product of some of the roughest trailer parks in the north and southeast, who’d had to fight and scrap to keep anything and everything he’d ever wanted or valued. He glanced over his shoulder at Angela, his hard gaze softening as he briefly saw her anxious face before swinging his head back to the unwelcome intruder. His jaw hardened. He’d better have a good reason for interrupting them. He crossed his arms in an entirely deceptive move but widened his stance, planting his feet.

“What do you want, Brazelton?”

Ted swallowed the hasty combative words that had trembled so precariously on his lips mere moments ago. Hunter was regarding him with no fear whatsoever. The blue eyes watching him so carefully were steely and cold, putting him in mind of the rumors regarding the white boy’s sordid roots and reckless reputation.

“You better get ya’ boy, Hunter,” he bit out sharply. “Matthews is drunk as a skunk. He’s disrupting the whole party. I don’t want to have to throw him outta here, but I will if I have to.”

Although his expression never changed, inwardly Shawn groaned. Dammit, Cory was drinking again?

I’m going to kill him, he thought with annoyance. I’m finally getting somewhere with Angela, and he has to do this! Concern for his best friend warred with unappeased lus.t for Angela. He briefly closed his eyes, his head dropping a little in resignation, aware of what he had to do.

Carefully keeping all evidence of his thoughts to himself, Shawn reached behind him, grabbed Angela’s hand, and started across the room. A raucous cry went up. He almost stumbled as Cory came into view around a large column that separated the living room from what had to be the dining room only the table, which Cory was standing on, was pushed up against the a wall on the far side of the room.

Shawn heard Angela gasp from beside him. Irritated, horny, and just plain, well, vexed by anything that didn’t have to do with getting some lovin’ from Angela, Shawn let go of her hand and went to his friend’s rescue, getting up on a chair to pull his half naked body down. Glassy eyed and grinning like a fool, Cory was obviously feeling no pain. He threw one bare and surprisingly well-developed arm around Shawn’s shoulders, his sweaty face just inches from his friend.

“Hey Shawnie!”

Shawn tilted his head away. The fumes coming off his breath were awful. Unaware of Shawn’s disapprobation, Cory raised his head and glanced around. “Ev’body, herrre’s Shawn-ie.” He turned back to Shawn, peering at him through bleary eyes. “Hey buddy.”

Shawn sighed. He had to get him out of there and home safely. He turned to Angela who’d had the forethought to collect Cory’s discarded shirt, jacket, and shoes.

Shawn looked at her with gratitude and regret. “I’ve got to get Cory out of here and sober before I take him home. I’ll ask Topanga to give you a ride.”

Angela shook her head. “I want to stay with you.”

“Angela.” Her name emerged as a sigh. “Come on, baby,” he groaned. “I don’t like this any better than you do.” He struggled to hold up Cory’s body which was nearly dead weight in his arms. “But I can’t let Mr. or Mrs. Matthews see him like this. He was grounded for a month the last time. God only knows what his Dad will do to him this time if he finds out.” His blue eyes pleaded with her. “It’ll be better if you go with Topanga.”

“Topanga’s gone, Shawn. I don’t see her anywhere around.” She looked at a stupidly grinning Cory with fond exasperation. “I’m not sure, but I think they might have exchanged words. That’s probably what got Cory…up on the table.”

Shawn stared her, chagrined. This night wasn’t going his way at all.

Angela bit her lip, her expression uncertain. “I um could ask—Ted to—”

Fuck no!” Shawn said through gritted teeth. He glared at her for even suggesting such a loathsome idea.

“Then it’s settled,” she said firmly. “I’m coming with you. I can help you get Cory sober.”

Shawn shook his head. He didn’t know how long it would take him to get Cory sober. For all his sympathy concerning Shawn’s circumstances, he knew he still had to prove himself to Sergeant Moore. And bringing Angela home well after her curfew wasn’t going to sit well with her old man or win Shawn any brownie points.

“No,” he repeated, “I'm taking you straight home, and then I'm going to get Cory sobered up at the apartment."

Angela opened her mouth to argue with him.

"I'm not going to argue about this, Angela," Shawn declared firmly, cutting off her protest. "I don’t know how long it’s gonna take before Cory’s in any shape to go home tonight. I'd try to keep him with me until morning, but I can't trust Cory to ask his Dad. Anything else might seem suspicious to Mr. Matthews after what happened the last time.” He hoisted Cory’s heavy body higher on his hip. “Look, dig in my back pocket. I have enough money in my wallet for you to take a cab home.”

Angela’s eyes flashed rebelliously. She hugged Cory’s clothes to her chest. “No. I’m coming with you.” He opened his mouth to protest, and she hastened to speak. “It’s either that, or I go home with Ted as my escort,” she suggested craftily.

“I like A-Ang-Angurela. Let 'er come wit' u-ush,” drunken Cory chimed in.

Angela calmly met Shawn’s eyes, a silent battle of wills taking place between them. Eventually, Shawn puffed out his cheeks in frustration. He was being manipulated, and there was nothing he could do about it. He’d walk on blazing hot coals before he’d willingly allow Angela to go near that arrogant bastard, especially not tonight as delectably hot as she was looking. A muscle ticked in his clenched jaw. Later, they’d have to have a talk about this power play shit she was pulling on him.

“Fine,” he said tartly.

He gazed at her unhappily. Angela just didn’t seem to understand the pressure he was under trying to balance himself on a tightrope woven out of what she wanted from him, what he needed from her, and what her father expected of him. He’d been outmaneuvered this time, but that didn’t mean that he had to pretend he was happy about it.

Not unmindful of his displeasure, Angela nodded solemnly, wisely resisting urge to gloat. Yet even though she didn't allow any emotion to show, inwardly, she was elated at her victory. She stifled the urge to do a little dance as she walked behind Cory and her very irritated boyfriend.

The little group trouped out of the party. A pair of censorious brown eyes watched them as they exited his parent’s front door. The scowl on Ted’s face disappeared as the door opened again and a cheerleader from another school walked over the threshold and into the room. Smoothing his short waves and the downy fur on above his upper lip, Ted strolled over to her. Now that Angela wasn’t around, he could be himself. As the latecomer winked and smiled at him, he didn’t give either Angela Moore or Shawn Hunter another thought for the remainder of the night.

~*~ 

As Shawn drove down the highway, carefully maintaining the speed limit, he glanced at Angela. Gentle moonlight illuminated the car’s interior. He got a fairly clear picture of her delicate profile. She was gazing out of the window of Cory’s nineteen eighty-nine Subaru. Beams of light periodically flashed over her face, putting him in mind of the staccato rhythm of a train’s wheels passing over a track. Although he couldn’t see her full expression, she seemed as peaceful and serene as always. A slight smile turned his mouth into a wide bow. She was such a good sport and never complained about his relationship with a guy who he considered as much of a brother as Jack. It had never been a bone of contention. She knew she came first, and like Topanga, respected the close bond that existed between the two friends.

Shawn transferred his gaze to the rear view mirror. Cory lay on the back seat, dead to the world, his head lolling about slightly from his stupor. Intermittent light snores added themselves to the low music coming from the radio, interrupting the car’s quiet.

“Hey,” Shawn called to her quietly. Angela turned her head to him, the side of her head leaning against the window pane.

“Hey, yourself.”

“You were a thousand miles away.”

She sighed contentedly. “Just happy to be with you.” She studied his profile as he watched the road ahead, admiring the chestnut brown hair falling over his temple, the alabaster skin that never tanned, the tip tilted nose that somehow managed to be cute yet masculine, and of course, those infamous pink lips that were so firm and soft at the same time.

Feeling her eyes on his face, Shawn kept his eyes on the road, but said softly. “You’re staring at me. Why?”

Angela grinned at the question. “I'd think you’d be used to people staring at you by now, Shawn.”

He shrugged, but didn’t bother denying the obvious. He knew that most people, mainly women, thought him handsome.

“You’re not people.”

His answer pleased her.

“Alright,” she said, straightening. “I was just thinking how irresistibly sexy you are. How incredibly hot,” she purred inticingly.

His body twitched. “Angela, don’t do this to me now.” He glanced over at her. “Not when I can’t do anything about it.”

Angela’s smile widened into a grin. She was beginning to enjoy herself. Usually she had to be very circumspect when she talked to Shawn, careful not to do or say anything to incite his passion if she wasn’t willing to go the distance, but now, there was no such danger. Shawn, who had his hands at ten and two as Cory’s hard to steer automobile demanded, was hampered by having to keep his attention on the road and his hands on the wheel. In other words, he was at her mercy.

She turned her body to him, her hand coming to lightly rest on the growing mound between his legs. It stirred underneath her hand like a sleeping animal just waking from slumber.

Angela!” he grunted in warning. He cut his eyes at her sternly.

“What?” she asked innocently. Growing even bolder, she began to inch his zipper down. Shawn wet his full bottom lip, but said nothing. Only his increased breathing gave any indication as to his state of mind. She slipped her small hand inside the opening and fondled the large bulge through the soft cotton of his boxers.

“Does that feel good?” she asked softly.

Shit! What the hell kind of question is that? he thought and shuddered. Angela…his Angela…was really going to do this do him. He licked his lips. “Y-Yeah. I-It…don’t stop,” he panted. His head fell back against the headrest weakly. He kept his eyes open and on the road by sheer will power.

Aroused herself, Angela obediently obeyed for the next few minutes stroking and caressing Shawn until successive moans escaped him. His hands gripped the steering so tightly that his knuckles were bloodless. Then feeling reckless, a little naughty, and just plain turned on, she brought her other hand over to pull apart the snap fastening that held the long, rigid coil of flesh from her eager eyes. Giddy with the anticipation of finally seeing his aroused manhood, she reached inside to pull it out. It was dark inside the car, but she could just make out the pale salmon colored staff. She experimentally ran her hand up and down its length.

Shawn’s eyes threatened to roll back in his head. He’d never felt anything as good as Angela’s hand fondling him, and he'd had hand and blow jobs from an assortment of different girls.  Yet after a few strokes of her hand, he felt like he was going to explode at any moment. Inexpert as her hands were, it didn't lessen his pleasure one bit, probably because it was Angela's hand caressing him so intimately. She was the one he wanted and dreamed about having nightly. Her touch on his body was the one he craved.

However, in an effort to be sensible, he half-heartedly tried to push her hand away.

“Baby, you have got to stop." He'd meant it as a command, yet it sounded more like a plea.

"But you told me not to,“ she pouted, batting his hand away.

Shawn moaned. "I—damn that feels good—I c-can’t take anymore, baby.” Soon he was going to have to pull over to the side of the road or risk an accident. Angela increased the pace of her activity, and Shawn actually growled. His pleasure was interrupted as a sudden shriek ripped through the air, startling both front seat occupants.

Shit!” Shawn yelped. “What the hell was that?”

It-It’s Cory!” Angela gasped, letting go of Shawn. She was staring out the passenger side mirror. “Shawn…he-he’s mooning that car.” Her finger pointed to the car in the lane next to them, trailing them by a single car length. It stealthily switched lanes, moving behind the little blue Subaru.

Shawn glanced behind him quickly. Sure enough, there was Cory, hanging out of the back window. Cory’s bare naked ass, that is, was hanging out the window. Shawn’s eyes widened and his jaw fell.

Whoa, Momma! That-the air’s cold!” Cory gripped before letting out another bloodcurdling howl.

When he saw the lights on top of the car that his friend had mooned begin to flash red and blue and heard the loud blare of its siren, he groaned in sheer anguish.

Keeping one hand on the wheel, he hurriedly reached one arm behind him to grab at one of Cory’s arms, yanking him back inside the car.

You idiot!” he yelled at Cory who was smiling at him, insensible to what he’d done. “Now, you’ve done it.”

With his head swimming and his heart sinking fast, he pulled over to the shoulder. A quick glance at Angela told him that she was scared. He had no time to comfort her however.

As he adjusted his own clothes, stuffing his private back into his own pants, Shawn ordered Cory to pull up his boxers and pants, a task he feared his handicapped friend would never complete. However, Cory surprised him by getting them up even though zipping the pants seemed to be beyond his capabilities at the moment. Hearing the patrol car’s door slam shut, as the officer got out, he was thankful for small favors. A shadowy figure approached the driver’s side.

Shawn rolled down the window and looked out. “Yes, officer?” he asked quickly and tried to quell his nervousness.

The officer, a tall well-built black man, leaned down and glanced inside the car. The faces of two teenaged Caucasian males caused him to sigh. The third passenger seemed to be asleep. He couldn’t get a good look at the girl’s face as it was turned away from him, but he could see that she wasn’t white. Dark hair and brown skin, he noted for the record, and promptly dismissed her.

The officer drummed his fingers on the top of the hood impatiently. More partying seniors, he thought wearily, getting their kicks off out stupid pranks and high jinks to give their high school years a proper send off. And the dizzying round of proms hadn’t even started yet.

He examined the driver with experienced eyes. His eyes were clear. and he was regarding the officer calmly. The designated driver was obviously sober unlike his wasted friend. He was about to request the driver’s license, registration and insurance, and if all was in order, let the boys off with a stern warning when the lights off a passing car illuminated the interior of the Subaru, and he caught a glimpse of the girl’s face as she furtively tried to look at him. Aware that she’d been seen, she quickly turned away again. Intrigued, the officer leaned down a bit more, grabbed a small flashlight from his belt, pressed the switch and light shined into the car. There was something familiar about this other passenger even though the quick flash of features had been too brief for him to gather more than an impression that he knew her. He let the light travel down her slender form and back up to her averted face.

“Young lady, turn around.”

Shawn frowned. “What’s the matter, officer? That’s just my girlfriend.”

“I wasn’t talking to you, son.” The officer repeated his request.

Angela sighed and turned her head.

“H-Hi, Officer Martin,” she said, a quaver in her voice.

“Angela? Angela Moore?”

She tried to smile, but it wavered badly and then died altogether.

Shawn all but ceased to breathe. This night couldn’t get any worse, could it?

The definitive answer to his question came all too swiftly.

The officer straightened and stepped back. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to take you guys in,” was his startling announcement. “Step out of the car, please.”

~*~ 

Alvin Moore had just gotten home when the phone rang. He loosened his tie and jogged over to the phone, a light swear on his lips. He was tired and as usual the call would be for his very popular daughter and not for him. Since he knew that she was out on a date that night with Shawn, he was even more irritated then usual by what he assumed was the first wave of a deluge of calls. It was becoming a nightly pattern.

“Hello?” he barked intimidatingly in anticipation of hearing a young teenage girl asking to speak to Angela.

“Al? This is Ken Martin.”

The hand that had been rubbing a painful kink out of the back of his neck stilled briefly. His visage changed. A slow smile parted Alvin Moore’s lips. “Hey, Kenny. It’s been a while, man. You retired yet?”

“No, still got a a ways to go before I make my twenty-two years. If I’d have stayed in the regulars, I’d probably be out by now,” the nineteen year reservist replied. “Um listen, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I picked up some kids tonight. One had been drinking and mooned my squad car. Um, Angela was in the front seat with the driver who said that she was his girlfriend. I tested him, and he wasn’t drinking. Neither was Angela.”

Shocked, Alvin listened, looking grim. “You must be talking about Shawn," he said finally. "He took Angela out tonight. My daughter's at the police station right now? You're holding her?”

“Yeah, she's here, but she's not charged with anything, Al. I just thought that maybe she shouldn't be out joy riding with these guys even though they seem harmless enough. But try not to worry. She’s in a private room well away from the criminal element.”

Alvin released the breath he hadn’t been aware of holding at the news that his daughter wasn't in trouble with the law and hadn’t been subject to less than savory environment of a police station.

“I’ve called the Matthews,” the officer went on. “Unfortunately, Shawn Hunter’s brother wasn’t in,” the officer explained. He paused but then added, “Listen, Al, I wasn’t sure about bringing her down here, but—”

“You did the right thing,” Angela’s father said quietly. “I—I’ll be right down. Thanks, Ken.”

He laid the receiver down in its cradle gently, even though he wanted to slam it down and watch it disintegrate into pieces. Kind of like what he wanted to do with Shawn Hunter’s head. Grabbing his keys off the console table behind the sofa where he’d thrown them, he strode over to the front door, jerking it open with suppressed violence, and slammed out of the house.

He’d been a fool to trust Hunter with his darling Angela. She was the joy of his life. The only good thing that had come from his mistake of a marriage. He thought about the sob story that boy had given him about his mother. It had really gotten to him and affected his normally good judgment. He resolved not to make that mistake again.

~*~ 

Angela’s father arrived at the police precinct in record time. Employing superhuman control of his impatience, he resisted breaking the traffic laws, and drove at a sedate pace. One member of the Moore family in residing in a police station was enough, he thought irritably, his mouth twisted with bitterness. This was all that boy’s fault. Some times, no matter how they tried, people just couldn’t overcome the influences of their upbringing. He’d hoped that this wasn’t the case with Shawn, but now he knew better.

As soon as he walked into the station, he saw his friend, Officer Martin leaning against the desk sergeant’s counter, quietly talking to the officer sitting behind the high ledge. Alvin quickly approached him.

“Ken, where’s Angela?”

The officer laid a comforting arm on one of his shoulders before turning away. “Come on. I’ll take you to her.”

They went around the sergeant’s desk into the back of the precinct, through a room with rows of desk at which had a mix of plan clothed and uniform clad policemen and women sat, either pounding out reports on computers, talking to victims and perpetrators a like as they sat across from them. Once out of this large area, they went down at hallway with doors on both sides. The officer stopped in front of a door with the sign “Interrogation Room Three” affixed to its light painted, smooth surface.

Ken Martin turned to Al, his hand on the silver knob. “She’s in here with Hunter. The Matthews kid is with his family, waiting to speak to the judge about his disorderly conduct.” He turned the knob.

Alvin started to go in, but was detained by Ken. He looked at him inquiringly.

“I think there’s something you should know before you go in there.” He paused as the other man’s eyes narrowed. It’s something about Hunter.”

“Go on.”

“There was an incident at the beginning of the year. Seems like Hunter and Matthews were picked up for drunken and disorderly conduct.”

Alvin Moore released a deep breath, and ran a hand over his face. Could this night get any worse, he wondered, unconsciously echoing Shawn's earlier query.

“Okay, what’d they do?”

“They were walking home from a friend’s party. They'd gotten drunk there, went downtown and peed on a cop car. Actually, when they were picked up, they were drinking beer in front of a convenience store—they got some bum to purchase a six pack for ‘em—when the officer apprehended them,” Ken explained quietly.

Alvin passed his hands over his short, tightly curled hair. “I can’t believe this!”

“The charges were dismissed since it was their first offense, but I thought you should know since it looks like the Matthews kid is still having a problem.”

Alvin nodded absently, raising a both hands to massage his suddenly throbbing temples. He wasn’t thinking about the Matthews kid but about Angela and Hunter. Mostly about Hunter. The guy he’d given sanction to dating his seventeen-year-old daughter.

Officer Martin gave him a minute to process the information. He had two children of his own: one a pre-teen boy and the other a thirteen year old daughter. He gazed at the older man with acute sympathy.

Alvin sighed wearily. He pulled himself together, realizing that needed to see his daughter, take her home and put this episode far behind them.

“Alright, Ken.” He removed his hands from his head, holding out his right hand. The officer shook it with his own. He took a deep breath. “I think I can handle it from here.” He looked at the officer as he turned to go. “Just to be clear. Angela isn’t in trouble.”

Ken Martin shook his head. “Not at all. I just brought them in as a precaution. Didn’t want them getting into additional trouble.” He sighed. “I guess I did the right thing. Matthews insisted on his kid seeing a judge. I think he’s trying to scare him straight. Anyway, you can take Angela home at any time.”

Alvin nodded as the officer clapped on back before heading off. He watched him go with a thoughtful expression on his face that soon turned grim after he twisted the knob and entered the room.

What the hell is going on here?” Alvin Moore bellowed angrily. “Get your hands off my daughter, Hunter!”

Shawn and Angela sprang apart, his expression guilty and hers, one of guilt and fear.

Daddy!”

“Sergeant Moore, I-we weren’t doing anything, sir. I—”

“Shawn was just trying to make me feel better, Daddy,” Angela rushed to explain. She laid a restraining hand on Shawn’s arm, but when her father’s mouth tightened, she quickly removed it. “I mean, I was upset, and he was j-just trying to comfort me.”

“Come along, Angela.” Alvin strode across the room to her side, pulling her away from Shawn. Favoring him with a hard look, he gripped her arm under the elbow, intent on dragging her along with him.

“But Daddy—”

“I don’t want to hear it right now,” Alvin Moore growled impatiently. “We’ll talk about this at home…in private.”

Angela hastily looked to Shawn.

Shawn fearlessly stepped into his path, instantly responding to her unspoken plea.

“Sir, you have to let me explain what happened.”

“Son, I don’t have to do anything except keep my daughter safe.” The dark eyes of Angela’s father regarded Shawn without pity or understanding. “Something that I trusted you to do. Instead, because of your friend’s drunken and lewd behavior, I’m picking my daughter up from a police station.” He couldn’t have sounded any angrier, yet Shawn persisted. He had to. Angela was counting on him, and the knowledge gave him courage.

“But sir, I would have gotten Angela home safely. Since Cory brought Angela and me to the party, I was going to bring him home in his car and have my brother follow me in his. Then I was going to take Angela home in Jack’s car,” Shawn hastily offered as explanation, his expression was on of sincere earnestness. Then remembering how the night had quickly gone sideways and his plan aborted before it’d ever had a chance of getting underway, the light blue eyes grew clouded. “It just didn’t turn out that way.”

Alvin let go of Angela’s arm and crossed his own over his chest, an intimidating gesture on a man of his imposing height. “Since you picked my daughter up from her door, taking her away from the security of her own home,” the Army man said harshly, “I’d say that it was your duty to ensure that she get home safely.” He wasn’t going to make it any easier on this young man whom he’d trusted with his daughter. “That much was expected of you.”

Shawn wet his dry lips. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir. I promise that nothing like this will ever happen again,” he vowed firmly. “I just—I had to make sure that Cory was alright.”

Sergeant Moore shook his head. “I’m sorry, son. Your loyalty to your friend is something I might admire if my daughter’s welfare weren’t involved.” He wrapped his arm around Angela’s shoulders protectively. “I’m afraid tonight has shown me that I can’t trust your judgment; and therefore, I can’t entrust Angela to you.”

Angela tugged at her father’s arm. “No, Daddy,” she protested, her voice shaking. “It’s not like that. Y-You’re twisting everything. I insisted that Shawn let me come with him. He wanted me to let Topanga take me home, but I lied and said that she’d left.” She looked back and forth between her father and her boyfriend. “Shawn and Cory have been friends since they were little. If Shawn’s at fault, then so am I.”

“Angela, don’t make excuses for him,” her father bit out sharply.

“I’m not!” she insisted, her dark eyes flashing as she tilted her head back to look up at her father. “I-I’m the one who lied because I wanted to be with Shawn. And Cory needed him, Daddy. He-we couldn’t just leave him there like that.”

Alvin Moore sighed. “Angela, I’m sorry about your friend. Sounds like he’s a troubled young man. But I’m even sorrier to hear that you showed as poor judgment as Hunter here. That puts this whole unfortunate situation in an even worse light. That means that I can’t trust either of you to make sound, adult decisions.” He looked over at Shawn. “I can’t leave my daughter in the care of someone who frankly and unapologetically puts another person’s well-being before hers. This Cory person,” he said, his voice ripe with distaste, “is obviously first on your list of priorities, Hunter. And if that wasn’t bad enough, there’s this drinking thing—”

“But I wasn’t drinking, sir!” he interjected hastily. “I swear. You can ask the officer.

“I did,’ he said curtly. “You weren’t drinking this time.” The expression on Alvin Moore’s face was grim. “What I’m saying is that besides your behavior tonight, you’ve got a few too many strikes against you as it is already, son.”

Shawn’s heart was beating loudly in his ears as he gazed at the unyielding face of his girlfriend’s father. The familiar feeling of dread attacked him as it always did when something bad was about to happen to him.

He struggled to get his voice to work. “Sir...," he began only to pause and swallow noisily before continuing, "Sergeant Moore, please. I swear I haven’t had a drink since a week after we were brought in the last time. That was months ago.” He held out his hands in an unconsciously beseeching manner. “I’m not an alcoholic, but I do still go to my counselor once a week.”

" Alvin Moore pulled his lips between his teeth while he examined the boy's anxious face. “I’m glad you’re handling—one of your problems responsibly,” he eventually conceded causing Shawn to feel slightly more hopeful before shattering that optimism with the stern pronouncement; “nevertheless, I have to think of what’s best for my daughter. I can’t allow you to endanger her safety or her reputation. Angela can’t see you anymore.”

Shawn was literally rocked on his feet, stepping back as though to absorb the shock to his system. He stood staring, stunned and befuddled, his brain sluggishly refused to process this devastating pronouncement. Not see Angela? That was like asking him to go without breathing or eating. She was essential to his life and his happiness. His panic rising, Shawn finally found his voice.

“Sir, you can’t be serious!” he exclaimed, aghast. “You-You can’t do this!”

His adversary drew himself up to his full height. It was as an imposing sight as it was meant to be. “I can, and I have to. Neither of you have been having much in the way of adult supervision. And I admit that I’m partly responsible for that myself,” he admitted with surprising candor. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you don’t have parents at this very crucial time in a young man’s life. You’re older brother—who’s hardly more than a kid himself— obviously has little idea of and even less input in what goes on with you, Hunter.” Alvin Moore took a deep breath. “So I’m afraid my mind’s made up about this.”

“N-No, Daddy," Angela cried out. "Please.” She pulled her arm from her father’s grasp and ran to Shawn, throwing her arms around him.

Shawn held her tightly. Her body was shaking uncontrollably against his. He lowered his head and buryed his face in the soft curve between her neck and shoulder, inhaling her sweet familiar scent. She burst into tears on his chest.

“It’ll be alright,” he said hollowly around the lump in his throat. His words of comfort only seemed to make Angela cry even harder. “It’s gonna be okay.” He didn’t know if he what he was saying was more for himself or for her.

Sergeant Moore gently pulled Angela from Shawn. Shawn's arms fell to his side limply.

Angela passed a shaking hand over her damp eyes, here breath catching repeatedly in her throat while she stared forlornly at her now ex-boyfriend.

“Although I can’t be around to monitor you two at your school, I’m hoping you’ll respect my decision and stay away from Angela as much as possible.” He favored Shawn with a hard stare, paused and reached into his pocket, removing a handkerchief which he handed to Angela who stood beside him sniffing pathetically. “My daughter deserves a young man who’ll look out for her, and who’ll put her first above his own—for lack of a better word—desires." He thought of the tender scene he'd walked in on which although relatively innocent had taken on more sinister conotations in her father's eyes. "I want her with someone who has her best interests at heart.” The eyes that regarded Shawn were critical. “You may have had good intentions, but in reacting the way you did, you’ve proven to me that that young man isn’t you, Hunter.”

Shawn just stood looking at him, unable to defend himself. Hell, maybe he was right? He’d screwed up again, but this time, the fallout affected not only him but Angela as well. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t seem to do anything right. That little voice that represented his self-doubting psyche roused and taunted him, “Once trailer trash always trailer trash, Shawnie, my boy. And you can only hide it for so long before everyone eventually sees it.”

Alvin Moore broke the contact of their eyes to look at his miserable, mute offspring. “Come along, Angela.” The master sergeant grasped her hand and pulled her along after him. Just as they neared the door, Angela turned her head to look at Shawn.

She silently mouthed, ‘I love you’, and then she and her father were gone.

“I love you, too,” Shawn whispered brokenly and then slowly walked over to one of the chairs lining the wall, dropping down exhaustedly into one of them to wait for Cory and the elder Matthews.

Thirty minutes later, a subdued Cory and his parents entered the room. “Come on, Shawn. I’ve cleared it with the officer for you to go with us,” Alan Matthews told him. “Would you mind driving Cory’s car home for us? I’ll bring you home right after.”

Shawn hauled himself to his feet. “Sure Mr. and Mrs. Matthews.”

Alan Matthews clapped him on his shoulder. “Thank you for staying with Cory and for not letting him drive. I just wish my inebriated son hadn’t mooned that cop car.” He shook his head in annoyance. “I don’t know what kind of subconscious beef he’s got with the police, but I’m just glad the night judge had a sense of humor about the whole thing,” he uttered with a tired smile. “He dismissed the charge of indecent exposure. I think it helped that he camps and recognized me from the store," Alan added, referring to his wilderness business.

Alan and Amy had both decided to play out the ruse of allowing Cory to think that he’d narrowly escaped conviction. They along with the judge hoped it would provide enough of a scare in addition to a long grounding to make him think twice about drinking again.

Shawn’s smile was rather wan. “I guess he’s got some free or discount equipment coming his way.”

Alan winked and glanced around suspiciously before commenting, “That's just between you and me.”

“And me,” Amy Matthews said. She was standing beside her husband, and their youngest son was standing next to her. She eyed her downcast son, and threw a comforting arm around his shoulders.

“Come on, boys, let’s get out of here before anything else happens.”

Alan grimaced. “Bite your tongue, Amy. Frankly, I've had enough excitement for one night.”

“You and me both, Dad,” Cory muttered under his breath.

Alan shot him a sharp look of disapproval indicating to all that Cory would be in hot water for some time to come. But instead of blasting his son again, he dropped his arm from Shawn’s shoulder and with a stiff back and disapproving visage led the way out of the police station. Amy followed with a slightly shell shocked Shawn and a morose Cory bringing up the rear.










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