Chapter Two

Somehow Rory got through the rest of the week without running into Dalen, but Carson continued to ignore her. She continued to develop a friendship with Moriah and they went shopping Thursday for dresses after Rory found out guests were expected to dress up. Rory found a sea-green silk sheath and Moriah chose a simple white frock with silver trim. They made plans to get ready at Moriah's so Rory drove over Friday evening at five-thirty.

The girls were immersed in applying make-up and talking when Korith knocked on the door and walked in. Rory was standing in her underwear and pantyhose and Denver's warning that Korith was a lesbian came back to her. Self-consciously she crossed her arms and stood there awkwardly.

Korith seemed oblivious as she started speaking. “I just wanted to warn you both. Don't drink anything from a glass and don't drink anything anyone else brings you. Only drink from a can you opened yourself, and never leave it unattended.”

“Why?” Moriah asked as she ran mascara over her lashes.

“Dalen Hudson and his friends have a tendency to slip tranquilizers in the girls' drinks and see what kind of fun they can have with them.” Her copper eyes focused on Rory. “You have to be especially careful, Rory. It's a well-known fact Dalen wants you, and he has a history of being ruthless.”

With a dramatic fling of her arms, Moriah stepped back from the mirror. “You’re so weird, Korith,” she said impatiently. “I'm going to get dressed,” she announced and went to the bathroom.

Rory stood there, chewing on her lip, as Korith came closer. “Please be careful,” Korith whispered urgently. “Don't be alone with him and don't drink anything he gives you.”

“How do you know all this?” Rory asked skeptically, though she was also frightened of Dalen.

Bitterly, Korith said, “From experience. I was friends with Jeri through junior high but when we came to Breckridge Academy, it all changed. Dalen was there and he befriended Jeri immediately. He wanted to go out with me, and I dated him a couple of times. He tried to go too far and I wouldn't see him again. So, at the next party he raped me.”

Gasping with horror, Rory bit on her knuckles. “Oh my god,” she choked out. “What happened to him?”

Her face twisted. “Nothing. He dropped all interest in me and suddenly no one knew me. I even earned the reputation of being a lesbian. Of course, it wasn't true but I guess I'd prefer people think that than know he forced himself on me.” Moriah came out of the bathroom, twirling, and she left without another word.

“Sorry about that,” Moriah apologized. “I love Korith, but she's too weird.”

“I think you should listen to her,” Rory whispered. “She seemed to believe what she was saying.” She let herself in the bathroom and slipped on the silk dress that rested a couple of inches above her knee and plunged just a bit in front. It was sleeveless and Rory had borrowed her mom's black wrap in case it got cold. When she emerged, Moriah was curled on the bed, looking through a magazine.

“None of these hairstyles look right on me,” she pouted.

Shrugging, Rory said. “I could braid your hair.” Moriah wrinkled her nose and shook her head. Rory turned her attention to the mirror and twisted her longish hair up into a French roll. Her mother had shown her the technique earlier in the afternoon and it had taken Rory a while to get the hang of it. Rory secured it with a gold hair comb decorated with mother-of-pearl.

Moriah decided to leave her hair in a shiny fall. She smoothed silver glitter throughout the dark red tresses and added some to her face. “I'm ready,” she announced.

Rory looked up from slipping her feet into black heels. “Aren't you forgetting shoes?” she asked her friend with a grin. Moriah giggled and plopped down on the bed to fasten on silver heels. They walked out of the room together and passed through the living room where Dottie and Thomas sat watching television. Korith was nowhere to be seen.

“Be back by midnight,” Thomas called without looking up. His attention remained glued to the boob tube.

“You look lovely, girls,” Dottie told them. She was a petite woman with Moriah's shade of hair worn in a short bob. “Don't forget curfew, Moriah,” she added with a nod in Thomas's direction before returning her attention to the screen as well. “Have a good time,” she said as they closed the door behind them.

“Ugh,” Moriah grunted as she slipped into the passenger side of the Mustang. Since it was a breezy evening Rory had the top up. “They drive me crazy. I can't believe I have a curfew.”

“How old are you?” Rory asked as she backed out of the drive and merged into the light flow of traffic.

“Fourteen,” Moriah said with a pout. “None of my friends have curfews.”

Shrugging, Rory kept her attention on the road as she struggled to recall the directions to Jeri's house. “Feel lucky, Moriah. Until I was sixteen, I had a curfew of ten o'clock. Then it was extended until midnight. Lately I haven't had a curfew because my parents are too busy with their own lives to pay much attention to mine.” Rory winced when she heard the bitterness in her tone but Moriah seemed not to notice.

They came to an exclusive neighborhood very similar to the one where Rory lived but with even grander homes. She saw cars parked up and down the street and people mingling at the third home on the left. Seizing an open parking space, she eased into it, cutting off a Mercedes angling for the same spot. The driver honked and flipped her off before zooming down the street.

Rory and Moriah walked together to the house, and she couldn't suppress a shudder. The home was technically a mansion. It was even larger than the hideous monstrosity her parents called a home—and gaudy too. Rory couldn't imagine living in it.

“It's beautiful,” Moriah gasped in awe. “So big!”

Rory made a non-committal sound and they walked up the steep drive to the house that sat atop the hill. The door was open and they walked in. It was hot in the house with so many bodies packed in tightly. Cigarette smoke and expensive perfume mingled in a rancid cloud that made Rory immediately nauseated. Moriah was swept away by a group of giggling girls with a helpless look back. Rory watched her go, feeling abandoned and naked. She jumped when strong arms wrapped around her. “It's about time you got here,” Dalen whispered in her ear.

Shrugging away from him, she scanned the room, seeking escape, but no one made eye contact with her. “Excuse me,” she said icily and walked away from Dalen. Undaunted, he followed her, taking her hand. When she tried to twist free Dalen, tightened his grip until she cried out. “Let go of me,” she hissed. “That hurts.”

He gave her a crooked smile as he tugged her closer. “Don’t fight it, baby. Let's not play games.”

Rory's eyes widened fearfully. “I'm not playing with you. I don't want you to touch me.” She was very serious but he threw his head back and laughed, as if she'd been telling a hilarious joke. “What's your problem?”

“Sexual frustration,” he whispered seductively as he wrapped an arm around her waist and dragged her close to his side. “I want to take you upstairs—” he broke off, eyeing her hungrily. “And take off that dress. Then I want to kiss every inch of you.” As Dalen spoke, he was leading her to the stairs.

“No,” Rory cried out, more loudly than she'd intended. Several people turned to look at her and she studiously avoided their eyes until they returned to their conversations. “I'm not a slut, Dalen,” she said quietly. “I came to have fun and get to know people. I'm not here for...what you have in mind.”

He smiled again, flashing perfect white teeth. “Okay, baby. Let's get you a drink and introduce you.”

Rory bit her lip, unsure how to escape. He seemed content to introduce her around and hang on her for the evening. If she tried to leave or pulled away from him, he might go back to his original intentions. Staying by his side for the evening seemed to be the only way to redirect him. No way was she going upstairs with him. Rory found his touch repulsive, but she supposed she could endure a couple of hours in his company. “Okay,” she agreed with a shrug.

Dalen led her to the makeshift bar and pulled a paper cup from the stack. “What will it be?” he asked as he dropped his arm from her side. Her eyes darted to the exit, and she considered making a run for it but knew she'd never get through the crowd of people. At least in here there were lots of people, and he couldn't do much to her except embarrass her. As long as she avoided being alone with him, she reminded herself.

Her eyes settled on cans of beer arranged in a pyramid. Although she rarely drank and didn't like beer at all, Korith's warning floated in the back of her mind. The more time she spent with Dalen, the more she became convinced Korith was being truthful. Unfortunately, the beer was the only thing she saw in a can. “I'll have a beer,” she said and reached for one, flipping the tab. She took an enthusiastic drink and grimaced as it went down. “Umm...smooth,” she said inanely.

Dalen took possession of her hand again and led her around the room, introducing her to people. Everyone was friendly and welcoming, but Rory couldn't help wondering cynically if it was because she appeared to be with Dalen. He seemed very popular and she doubted she would have received such a warm reception if she'd been alone.

An hour passed and Rory sipped cautiously at the beer from time to time but hardly made a dent in it. “Let me get you a fresh one,” Dalen offered, taking the beer from her. Before she could protest, he was melting into the crowd and she hurried to the ladies’ room where she sat on the closed toilet seat and tried to stop trembling. He was frightening her and she didn't know how to get away. He'd introduced her to everyone now and was talking about dancing. She didn't want to dance with him, that was certain.

She'd been in there five minutes when someone rapped on the door. “Just a minute,” she called and rose to her feet. Rory turned on the water for a moment and crinkled a paper towel before opening to door. Sure enough, Dalen lounged against the doorframe, holding a glass of beer in his hand.

“I wondered where you disappeared to,” he said lightly but there was a strange glint in his eyes that made Rory very nervous. He held the beer out to her. “All they had left was draft,” he explained with a wink.

Rory didn't believe him. “Thanks, Dalen,” she said unenthusiastically. “I don't think I should drink any more though,” she said, sitting the beer down on a near-by table. “I have a headache.”

He smiled sympathetically. “Maybe you should lie down,” he suggested. The look on his face was anything but comforting.

“No,” she protested. “I'll be fine. I think I'll leave soon though.”

Frowning, Dalen wrapped his arms around her. “You can't leave yet. You've only been here an hour. You wouldn't want to hurt Jeri's feelings, would you?”

“Of course not,” she whispered as his arms tightened. “I plan to stay a little longer.”

“Good,” he said approvingly. He dropped an arm and steered her back to the bar where he poured a coke for her from the fountain. She watched him carefully and he didn't tamper with it, so she sipped it. Dalen took her closer to the speakers and they danced to a semi-fast song. He didn't touch her unduly and she relaxed a bit. After the song, Jeri approached them.

“Having a good time?” she asked in a friendly manner.

“Yes,” Rory told her evenly. “Great party,” she added, not meaning a word.

“Thanks,” Jeri responded, then proceeded to ask Rory about her previous cheerleading experience. They talked for ten minutes or so before Jeri flitted off again. Rory took a gulp of the coke before Dalen swept her back into another energetic dance.

Two dances later, Rory was burning up and she gulped most of the coke in a single drink. “It’s hot,” she explained as Dalen watched avidly.

“It sure is,” he agreed as his eyes settled on the curve of her hip. He sipped at his own drink, watching her intently. Another song started, this one slow and romantic. “Let’s dance again,” he suggested.

Biting her lip, Rory protested, “I don't know, Dalen. My head...” she said lamely.

“Nonsense.” He took the coke from her and set it down. It was the first time she'd relinquished the glass since he'd fixed it for her, and she reminded herself not to drink from it again as he swept her into his arms.

They were moving slowly to the dance when Rory started to feel relaxed. She started yawning. “Sleepy?” he asked with a strange expression. Rory nodded, starting to feel dizzy. At first, she thought he was twirling her around and around, and then realized they were barely moving.

“What's going on?” she stuttered out. “What did you do to me?” she demanded from a far-off place.

He smiled. “Not much. I just gave you something to help you relax. It should get rid of your headache.”

“You had no right,” she protested with a thick tongue, becoming aware he was leading her to the stairs. She stumbled on the first step, and he half-lifted her, supporting her weight. “No,” she screamed, but it emerged as a whisper. Her head lolled forward and she felt blackness sweeping over her.

Moriah watched with a frown as Dalen and Rory went up the stairs. She'd gotten the impression Rory didn't like Dalen, but she was going to a bedroom with him. It just didn't make sense. Impulsively, Moriah set aside her orange juice and started to follow them. She was intercepted by Perry, who wanted to discuss the first game of the season, tomorrow night. He started telling her about cheers that were planned for the annual competition, and she became engrossed in the conversation.

It was nearly an hour later before Perry left her, and Moriah abruptly remembered she was going to go check on Rory. She searched the room and saw Dalen with Jeri but there was no sign of Rory. She got scared, thinking Rory had left without her and gathered up enough courage to approach the seniors. “Hi,” she mumbled nervously, nearly fainting when Dalen turned his thousand-watt smile on her. Yes, she knew he was a jerk but that didn't keep him from being hot. “Umm...have you seen Rory?” she asked timidly. “She's my ride.”

Dalen shrugged. “I think she left. She said something about a headache.” He said it with a snigger and Moriah's eyes narrowed. “I could give you a ride,” he offered but she shook her head.

“Thanks, but I'll call my dad,” she said, wandering off. She ducked into a hallway, out of sight from Dalen and Jeri. He was hiding something, she thought. She eased out and looked around. Dalen and Jeri were still deep in conversation and neither was paying attention to her. She ran up the stairs as quickly as she could.

She knocked on every door. When someone responded, she kept moving but every time there was no answer, she opened the door. Most of the rooms were filled with passionate couples and she got embarrassed more than once but she kept going. She'd opened nine rooms when she found Rory, lying on a huge waterbed, semi-conscious. Moriah locked the door behind her and ran to the bed. “Rory, wake up,” she whispered frantically as she shook her friend.

Rory's eyes swam into focus, and her head was pounding. “What's going on?” she asked groggily. “Moriah, I want to go home,” she confided brokenly.

“Okay,” Moriah agreed. “But please wake up, Rory. Can you stand?” Rory rose to her feet shakily and initially Moriah had to support her. Finally, Rory was able to stand on her own and take a few steps. Moriah took time to grab Rory's purse from the bed, crying out when she saw the used condom lying beside it. The enormity of what had happened hit Moriah, but she didn't have time to think about it right now. She had to get Rory out of here without Dalen noticing. Somehow, she didn't think he'd just let Rory stroll out.

As inconspicuously as possible, Moriah helped Rory down the stairs, scanning the room for Dalen or Jeri. She had Rory to the door when Perry saw her and waved her over. She shook her head and kept going. She saw him take off in a hurry and figured he was helping Dalen keep track of Rory. She urged Rory to go faster and got her settled in the passenger seat of the Mustang. Moriah frantically dug the keys out of Rory's purse and had just buckled her belt when she saw Dalen sauntering toward them. With a quick prayer, she eased out on to the street, trying to ignore the fact that she'd never driven before, and especially a standard. She killed the car when she tried to shift into second and looked back, seeing Dalen hurrying to them now.

She started the car again and got it into second gear by some miracle. She tore off down the street just as Dalen was reaching them. Dottie had a standard station wagon and Moriah tried to picture how her mom drove it. She got the car into third and kept it there. She only killed it once more at a stop sign and had a hell of a time getting the car to go again. Just as it turned over and she went through the light at the last moment, a cop pulled up behind her. Fortunately, he'd hit the yellow light and didn't seem unduly curious about her inability to restart the car for so long.

Moriah got the car back to her house without killing it again but it was sounding strange and smelling funny. She turned off the ignition and left Rory in the car as she ran into the house. Her parents weren't downstairs so she went up to their room, struggling to act normally. She knocked on the door, smoothing a hand through her hair as she walked inside. “Hi,” she greeted as cheerfully as possible. “I'm home.”

Thomas looked at the bedside clock. “You’re early, kiddo. Bad party?”

Shrugging, Moriah backed to the door. “Kind of lame,” she dismissed. “I'm going to take a shower and go to bed.”

“Goodnight,” her parents said at the same time.

“’Night,” she responded. “Oh, do you mind if Rory sleeps over? We want to go over our cheers for tomorrow night.”

“No, that's fine,” Dottie said. “Can you turn the light off on your way out, dear?” Moriah clicked the light off and shut the door behind her before running down the hall to Korith's room, where she knocked frantically.

“Come in,” her cousin called out sleepily. She was sitting up in bed with her hair flying everywhere when Moriah burst in. “What's wrong?” she asked in a rush as Moriah tried to catch her breath.

“It's Rory...” she forced out. “I need your help. She's in the car—” Korith crawled out of the bed and ran after Moriah, not even bothering to throw a robe over her flannel pajamas. When they got to the car, Rory was asleep again and they couldn't rouse her enough to stand up. The two girls tried to get her on her feet but weren't strong enough. “I'm going to get Carson,” Moriah told Korith and dashed across the street.

Carson lived with his mom in a smaller three-bedroom home that showed a few years of neglect. The front porch sagged and the paint was peeling. Last summer, when Evie had been living with a man who didn't like Carson, he'd moved into the apartment above the garage. Moriah climbed the stairs that led to his room and knocked forcefully. After a second round of knocking, she heard him shuffle to the door. He opened it wearing jeans, sans shirt, and in his bare feet. “Moriah,” he greeted sleepily. “What's up?”

“We need your help,” Moriah told him. “A friend of ours...we can't get her out of the car.”

“Okay,” Carson said. “Let me get my shoes.” He left the door open and Moriah peeked inside. It was sparsely furnished, with a queen bed, dresser, small television, nice stereo, and one whole wall filled with musical instruments—a deluxe keyboard, two guitars in stands, and a worn-looking set of drums. Carson closed the door behind him but didn't bother to lock it. He walked behind Moriah as she hurried across the street as fast as she could in her heels.

He recognized Rory's car with a wrench of his gut and when he got closer, sure enough, it was she who lay in the passenger seat. Korith was struggling to bring her around without success. “She's really out of it,” Korith told Moriah and Carson. “We can't lift her, Carson.”

Shrugging, Carson told the hopeful girls. “I don't know if I can either.” He was slightly taller than average with a lean frame. He had toned muscles, but he was not a devotee to working out. He might outweigh Rory by thirty or forty pounds at most. Korith moved away from the open door and Carson bent down, struggling to lift Rory. She was heavy, but he managed to hold her in a fireman's carry. “Let's get this done quickly,” he told them as his muscles strained and protested.

Moriah and Korith hurried into the house, struggling to be silent as they rushed up the stairs. Carson followed behind, groaning softly when they made it to the landing. Moriah led them into her room and he placed Rory gently on the bed. “She's going to have quite a headache in the morning,” he commented. “Still, maybe she won't drink so much next time.”

Moriah shook her head. “She didn't get drunk. I think Dalen or one of his friends drugged her.” She told Korith and Carson where she'd found Rory and about the used condom. She even told them about how Dalen had chased the car.

Korith was pale by the time Moriah finished and Carson looked livid. “I'll kill him,” he promised harshly. “He can't get away with this. Moriah, call the police.” Carson was storming to the door when Korith laid a hand on his shoulder.

“It won't do any good,” she whispered sadly. “The cops won't do anything, and he'll hurt you pretty badly Carson.”

“We have to call the police,” Moriah insisted.

Carson let out a breath. “She’s right, Moriah. Have you forgotten Dalen's uncle is the chief?”

Moriah looked stricken and sank down on top of the hope chest at the foot of her bed.

Korith nodded, hugging herself. “When I reported what he did to me, they were openly hostile. They suggested I had drunk myself stupid and imagined the whole thing. Then they made me take a blood test to see if I'd been taking drugs. Surprise, surprise...my blood test came back positive for pot, and I had a blood alcohol level of 0.2. They offered to ignore the test results if I withdrew my report against Dalen.”

“Oh my god,” Moriah whispered. “This happened to you?” Her cousin's warning came back to her and she flinched. “He drugged you too?”

Korith shook her head. “No, he didn't drug me. I was aware of the whole thing. It was after me that he started drugging the girls he did this to. At least he'll leave Rory alone now. He loses interest after he scores,” she said bitterly.

Moriah seemed unable to absorb the shock. She sat there in silence as Carson and Korith tried to wake Rory. Her eyes opened once but when she saw Carson she screamed soundlessly. “Keep away,” she cried and passed out again.

They waited tensely to see if Dottie or Thomas had heard but they didn't come to check on them and they relaxed. “Moriah and I will give her a bath,” Korith told Carson. “Thank you for your help.”

“No problem,” he answered, pushing a stray hair off Rory's sweaty face. “Let me know how she's doing,” he added before leaving them. He still wanted to go beat the hell out of Dalen but Carson knew Korith was right. He didn't stand a chance against Dalen in a fair fight; that left only one other method—unfair, he thought with a cold smile.

Rory exploded from a nightmare to see sunshine filling the room. She was lying beside someone and fear skittered along her spine. She whipped around, seeing Moriah snoring softly, and relaxed. Why was she so frightened? Rory had to desperately use the bathroom and she got out of the bed, wincing as pain shot through her in an unfamiliar place. Rory felt dizzy, and getting to the bathroom took a while. When she did her business, it hurt.

She was washing her hands when a vision flashed through her mind. Dalen on top of her, holding her down as she fought to breathe and escape from him. Rory cried out and stumbled backwards, falling to the floor when her shaky legs wouldn't support her. There was a knock on the door, and Korith stuck her head in. When she saw Rory on the floor, she came forward and helped her up, leading her back to her room instead of Moriah's.

When Korith settled Rory on the bed, Rory noticed she was wearing a pair of unfamiliar flannel pajamas. She felt sick, dizzy, and confused. “What's going on, Korith?” she asked, grabbing her pounding head.

Swallowing, Korith put a comforting hand on Rory's shoulder. “Do you remember anything about last night?”

Rory shook her head, and then groaned as pain shot through into her eyes. “I remember I couldn't get away from Dalen. He was like my shadow all night. I remember dancing with him...” She trailed off. “I can't remember much else. I think I saw Carson last night, but everything else is a complete blank.”

“You did see Carson,” she confirmed. “He helped Moriah and I get you inside. Dalen drugged you and took you upstairs. We don't know exactly what happened but when Moriah found you, there was a used condom on the bed.” Rory turned pale and swayed. “Later, we cleaned you up and there was blood,” Korith finished awkwardly.

“But I kept my drink with me,” Rory protested. “I didn't take anything he fixed for me.” She just couldn't bring herself to believe what Korith was telling her. This was the kind of thing that happened to other people, not her. “He couldn't have done that.”

Korith shook her head. “He probably had someone slip it in for him. Maybe Jeri or one of his other friends?”

“They help him?” Rory asked incredulously. “Why would they do that?”

“Because he's rich and powerful and very popular. If Dalen decides you don't exist, your social life at Breckridge Academy is over.”

Rory's mind refused to hear anymore and she slipped away to a private place. Somehow, she made it through breakfast with Moriah and her family before borrowing sweatpants and a T-shirt from Moriah. She hugged Korith and Moriah before going to her car and climbing in. She sat there for a minute, just staring into space. Rory looked across the street and saw Carson watching her from the driveway. He lifted his hand and she nodded. He didn't come over and she didn't go to him. Finally, she turned the key and drove to her house.

Now she had to decide what to do. Should she report him to the police? After hearing Korith's story, she tended to reject that option. Rory wasn't going to pour out the humiliating story if there was little chance Dalen would be prosecuted. It just didn't seem like a good idea. Still, it chafed that he was casually drugging then raping girls and getting away with it. At least now he was done with her and would move on to his next unsuspecting victim. She'd be like Korith and try to warn everyone.

As Rory made her way into the house, she was sure of one thing. She was quitting the squad. After one of Dalen's friends had betrayed her, she wouldn't turn her back on any of them. It was clear she could trust very few people from Breckridge Academy, and she had no intention of opening herself any farther to the ones who couldn't be trusted.

Rory made her way up the stairs and looked up Jeri's phone number from the registration packet she'd been given at the try-outs. “Hello,” Jeri answered sleepily.

“This is Rory,” she said coldly. “I'm not coming to the game today. In fact, I'm quitting the squad.”

“What?” Jeri squawked. “You can't do that! We're counting on every one of our cheerleaders.”

“Something's come up, Jeri.” It made her ill to have to sound friendly with this person. “I just can't do it. I'm sure one of the auxiliary girls can move up. You've only practiced one cheer that includes me and I have a very small part. I'm sorry,” she added as an afterthought. “I thought I should tell you personally.” Rory replaced the handset before Jeri could protest again.

Next, Rory reached for the phone book and looked up Planned Parenthood. Of course, there wasn't one in Breckridge but there was in Red Hills, just twenty minutes away. They closed at two, and she made an appointment to come it at one for an exam. Afterwards she lay there on the bed, morosely staring at the ceiling.

It was strange to realize she was no longer a virgin and hadn't even been aware when she was losing her virginity. Dalen had violated her while she was practically unconscious and Rory didn't know whether to be relieved or even more upset. On the one hand, she didn't have any vivid or terrifying memories of last night except for an occasional flash and that was good. Still, she had no idea what Dalen had done to her or if he'd used protection every time. Rory thought it might be possible to go insane from the unknown.

Her reverie was interrupted by a knock. “Come in,” she called reluctantly and scrunched herself into a tighter ball. Ricky poked his head in. “Hi.”

He cleared his throat. “How was the party?”

“It sucked,” she told him honestly but didn't go into detail. Right now, she didn't want her parents to know, and he was sure to tell them. Or else, he'd do something really crazy like go after Dalen. “It's a good thing you missed it.”

“Did Moriah have a date?” he asked in a rush, turning a bright red and looking at the floor. “Or did she meet up with anyone at the party?”

Rory smiled for the first time all day. “No, she didn't have a date and I never saw her with anyone at the party. Do you like her?”

Ricky nodded. “I guess I do, sis. I just don't think she'll ever like me. I mean look at me.” He waved a hand dismissively.

“What's not to like?” Rory countered. “You're sweet, gentle, thoughtful, and respectful of other people. She'd be crazy not to like you. Besides, I think she does like you. I think you should ask her out, Ricky.” He brightened considerably. “I really do,” she encouraged.

“All right,” he said excitedly. “Thanks, Rory,” he called over his shoulder as he zoomed down the hall. Rory smiled until she realized Ricky was probably looking up Moriah's number right this moment. Hurriedly, she tapped out her friend's extension.

There was a message in Moriah's friendliest tone, followed by a beep. “Hi, it's Rory,” she said awkwardly. “My brother is calling you about something, and I'd appreciate if you didn't mention what happened last night. I might tell my family eventually, but not right now.” After hanging up, Rory noticed it was twelve-thirty and hurried down the stairs, still wincing every few steps. As she passed the family room, she could hear Ricky's voice but not make out the words.