Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Butterflies & The Net ❯ Chapter 9: Well, Kiss Me Goodnight... ( Chapter 9 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Butterflies & the Net

by iloveanimecartoons

Genre(s): Psychological/Angst/Drama/Romance
Rating: T
Latest Revision: October 27, 2007

A/N: Rereading Chapter 8, I was generally pleased with my efforts (which puts me under pressure for this chapter—oh, the woes of a perfectionist). As you may have noticed, the ratings and genres have been altered. I found it was WAY too early to list them as they were and find that I can easily find my story without the need for a Google search or log-in. Yippee Skippy! A few folks have asked me when the whole internet thing was gonna come into the plot and I told them it would come when all the story lead up to it. (Way to answer plainly, huh? LOL!) There's a reason for the prolonged storyline—everyone introduced nowhas a critical part in Miss Amarante's life and decisions later (and, okay, currently, too). You shall see as you read on. Oh, I'm feeling pretty good today, so I shall type to yet another playlist.

Theme Music for this chapter (Yes, this one will do nicely):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bbNKoqwXJQk&featu re=PlayList&p=7385ED9F07457A4C&index=0&playnext=1

Now, on with the story…

Chapter 9: Well, kiss me goodnight…

Flipping through a 2-year old issue of MAD Magazine as she waited to be called for her session, Solya sighed and turned to smile wanly at Jerrod. He caught her smile and returned it with a cheesy grin and crossed eyes. She couldn't help the giggle that spilled forth as she shook her head at his antics.

`Jerrod Domingo is, for all intends and purposes…a nut,' she resolved mentally.

It felt pretty good to have things back to normal between them once again—for the most part, anyway—and she giggled again as she folded the hidden picture feature in the magazine. Jerrod leaned over her shoulder and shook his head at the weird depiction before turning back to his own magazine—a 3-month old National Geographic. Sitting there, in companionable silence, was…nice. It was something she realized she took for granted as always available but something she never really took the time to fully appreciate.

`You're always there for me, aren't you, Jer?'

Remembering the day she'd broken down and admitted she needed help and his support, she smiled a secretive smile…

“Jerrod…?”

“Jerrod, huh? Okay, this sounds serious enough; what's up, Sol?”

“I need help and…I'd like…if you can…will you come with me…I need your—um, support. I just can't stop it anymore, the feelings, PB. The nightmares are ju—”

“Sol…”

Nodding jerkily, she sighed, “Yeah. They're back, Jerr…ah hell, they never really left; they just eased up some…”

“Sol…um…Sol, I…”

“It ain't your fault so don't go getting all choked up and all guilty an' stuff, you here me?”

“Um, yeah…and, yeah, I'll go with you…but…”

She remembered he'd paused, shook his head then cringed a little.

`Hmm… Wonder what he was thinking about then…'

“Sol…I'll go and…I'll trust you to see this through this time, but…don't close up on me again, okay? Will you promise me? `Cause I'm your friend and you really can trust me with anything—you know that, right?”

`That was kind of an intense moment there. Boy, that Jerrod sure knows how to render me uncertain.'

“Y-y-yes…I…I promise,” she vowed, stomach churning, she was feeling that uncomfortable, weird feeling again. `His eyes…snap out of it, Sol! It's just PB. Just move away.'

“Um, PB, Can you--?” she started—it ended with a tiny squeak as he wrapped her up in a fierce hug. She tensed up and gritted her teeth as her eyes watered. `NO!' she thought, irritably, `No tears! NO MORE fucking tears! Stop it! Stop it, NOW!'

“I care about you, man…so, you just remember that promise and I'll take care of the rest, Sol,” he whispered to her, after about a minute of silence.

`Then he…kissed my cheek and…and wiped my tears—wow, I actually cried around him—how did I let him get close enough to do that, anyway?'

“I know you don't like to hear it, but, I do, Sol…you know what I mean…so, don't be afraid to let me know how you feel, `kay?”

`And I just nodded like an idiot. Go fig. God, he's so mushy, sometimes. He needs to be an actor or something.'

Smiling absently at the memory, she allowed herself a few minutes to enjoy that sudden warmth that tended to surround her when she really analyzed the unique kinship she had with her best friend. These thoughts usually lead to questions she didn't know how to ask or answer, so she returned her focus to her magazine. Soon tiring of said magazine, she let her mind deviate to things that never truly left her thoughts for long; those thoughts soon included the events of the past week…

Lots of things could be said about the last seven days of Solya Amarante's life, with lots of room for creative merit. Diverse was a word—a pretty good first attempt at that, yet not quite enough to encompass the entirety of the week she'd just experienced.

The last minute decision to spend the night at Jerrod's house last week, after her therapy session, was a little awkward to start for both parties; and it showed big time. As they parted ways, as agreed; Jerrod leaving to play some hoops with some of the fellows and Solya to go get her nibble on. The cookout was as much a treat as a release—meeting up with Jerrod out of the blue threw her for a loop and she needed to a chance to adjust her equilibrium. The food was delectable and music was right up her alley—easy listening hits and 70's jazz and disco, 80's pop, soul and house music, and 90's R&B. Jesse kept the flirting to a minimum, commenting in his usual dallying banter only when they were out of earshot.

The cookout was made less awkward by her occasional meetings with, surprisingly, two of her buddies—Crazy and Larry Boy, of all people—and Jesse was a great co-host. They had a ball reliving old Junior High school memories and making small wagers as to who would best who in cards at the upcoming Spades party, Larry Boy teasing that the losers could always go to the kids' game room and play Sorry or video games. Solya scuffed him in the ear for that comment, seeing as how he gave her a long hard look as he said it, and he just grinned like an idiot. She forewent the limbo contest for fear of her after-affect of back pain but did get into the dance-till-you-drop Macarena competition. She surprised herself with the newly-acquired stamina she had to spare, noting how her weight loss was showing great results…and winning the second prize of a $20 Target gift card didn't hurt her feelings at all.

After enjoying a genial and surprising evening with Jesse and his friends, she'd gotten a ride to Jerrod's house from Larry Boy who insisted on asking about her `admirer', who kept giving her appreciative glances here and there, throughout the cookout. She feigned innocence and opted to ease of the topic by sorting through his CDs or commenting on the cookout…or just plain ignoring the guy. This was a method he was quite used to. The ride was all the more amicable due to their joking around and general discussion and soon they were at Jerrod's house. Her initial, if not misplaced, nervousness easing away as the three met up on the porch and joked for a few minutes before Larry Boy pulled off.

She'd enjoyed her stay at Jerrod's house, missing their easy camaraderie, and soon wasn't concerned much at all about the awkwardness of the past week…well, not as much. The way he'd said goodbye to her, leaving early for work, though… That had her in deep contemplation for a while and nearly ruined her good spirits for the afternoon she had planned. But, nonetheless—and thanks due to Jesse's younger brother Gianni for his easy-going hospitality—she was back to her old self in no time.

`I had a ball over Jesse's house! Wow! That man can cook! And coming out $70 richer was such a wonderful way to go!'

Waking up to the sight of Jesse at her side, drowsily cracking his eyes and grinning—sporting a rather impressive, for lack of a better term, tent under the comforter they shared—was enough to make her reel back in shock. That was until she pictured the many mornings she happened upon her brother Leonard in a half-sleep state as he'd stumbled to the bathroom in the same predicament. A furious blush spilled over her face as she realized that she'd been staring at said tent for much longer than she'd originally thought she'd been—a blush that only intensified as she met the amused eyes of Jesse when she'd wrenched her eyes away. That made for a afternoon of merciless teasing from Jesse that earned him a few good upper arm punches in retaliation—all of which he retaliated with by giving her Wet Willies, light taps and soft shoves.

After a light brunch—they woke up around 1 PM—they made the ride to Solya's home via taxi. Solya's stomach was tied in knots of anxiety and apprehension at what kind of conversation her father might have in mind for her and Jesse. She'd never really brought a guy home for him to meet, not really. All her guy buds were just seen as kids she grew up with and introductions where never seen as necessary with elementary-age males, in her father's estimation. But this was different and in retrospect—noting how her father and stepmother seemed to take an active interest in knowing all about this new guy she'd spent so much time talking to the week prior—Solya felt like a spotlight was on her. Jesse, seemingly sensing her distress, had held her hand and shot her a compassionate glance; Solya stiffened but didn't pull away, needing the distraction to center her self and decompress.

The discussion was pretty tame in comparison to what Solya expected. None of the `What are your intentions with my little girl?' or `Are you two practicing safe sex?' or other utterly embarrassing questions inspired in her overly-stressed mind on her ride there. The conversation was more along the lines of how they met and how long they've known each other, and questions about his family—that was until Solya went to the kitchen to gather some drinks and snacks, then “Hardcore Daddy Mode” kicked in. Yes, Lamar Amarante was a pretty calm, decent and reasonable man, but this was his only daughter here. So, yes, Hell may just have to be unleashed on the earth for a few minutes—just to get his point across to this young upstart. The conversation took a quick detour towards, well, `What are your intentions with my daughter?' and `Are you two physically involved and, if so, are you practicing safe sex?' and the universal statement of all protective fathers everywhere `If you hurt my baby in any way, I will kill you'; things of that nature. Jesse was very relaxed, yet serious in answering all the questions truthfully, all followed with `sir' for respect's sake. Being a good reader of people, Lamar deduced that Jesse was a suitable young man for Solya to spend her time with. With a solemn `Thank you, sir,' Jesse shook his hand seconds before Solya made her way back into the room. Lacking the tense air she expected, she smiled and figured that they'd come to an understanding and didn't comment further.

Soon after, seeking to ease the mood and further press the notion that all was well with the world, Lamar suggested a game of Spades and the two teens in attendance were soon humbled at his skills—he beat them three times in a row. As the afternoon stretched into evening, Jesse joined them for dinner at Lamar's insistence and in doing so, met Denise. Knowing her penchant for teasing, Solya shot her the hairy eyeball in warning and Denise just grinned innocently in a `Why I'd never…' sort of expression. Solya sighed inwardly and enjoyed the meal and pleasant conversation. Later, Lamar and Denise hinted to Jesse that the hour—11 PM—was getting late. Solya sighed audibly, taking the hint, and called a cab for Jesse. After thanking her parents for an enjoyable evening, the two teens walked to the porch to wait for his ride. When it came, he gave Solya a warm hug and a smile—one she welcomed and returned, surprisingly—and left for home.

Solya spent the rest of the evening grinning like an idiot and fending off Denise who kept poking her teasingly while humming the chorus to `Could It Be I'm Falling In Love', telling her how cute her friend was and going on and on about how adorable Solya was when she blushed—all of which Solya adamantly refuted. On her way to bed, Jesse called her cell to say goodnight and tell her again how much fun he had over her house and how much he liked her parents; Solya couldn't help but smile at his high praise of her father in general, and hung up in good spirits. Later, while brushing her teeth, Denise stood in the doorway smiling knowingly at Solya until she blushed self-consciously and frowned confusedly at her; Denise finally relented about a minute later and laughter rang through the hallway as she dodged a bog of cotton balls Solya threw at her. Solya just rolled her eyes and chuckled at her weird-but-cool stepmother.

The following days were generally nice as Solya slowly returned to her usual routine with Jerrod. Conversation tended to get a little sensitive for the first couple days whenever she mentioned Jesse and their growing friendship—especially after she mentioned spending the night over his house and sleeping in the same bed with him—as innocent as Solya knew it was, it was almost as if he was in a weird sort of tug of war in his mind right before he'd comment on that subject in particular. That observation made Solya wonder if there was any merit to Josie's assumption that Jerrod was jealous of Jesse; Solya just waved it off as girlish speculation on Josie's part.

By Wednesday, things seemed to be back to normal. Jazmin called Solya on Thursday with her pointers on `The Dos and Don'ts of first time dating', most of which Solya dismissed as way too much like a girly-girl—totally not her style—as she tried on the peach lip gloss that finally came in the mail. As much as she knew her friend meant well, most of her advice seemed unnecessary. Jesse liked her as she was. Why change the flow now?

All of which brings her to today—Friday—the day of her weekly session with Dr. Busch. Looking unaccountably nervous and unsure, Jerrod reached out his hand to Solya and she took it in a tight grip.

`She could crack hazelnuts with that grip! Sol…what's wrong?'

Wincing, Jerrod tried to convey calm by kneading her shoulders with his free hand, pleased when she seemed to melt and relax under his ministrations.

“Want to talk about it?” Jerrod offered nonchalantly.

“Nah. That's why Doc B. gets the big bucks. But, thanks for the offer,” Solya returned with a near rapturous exhale as he neared a particularly tense muscle in her neck, “Right there, to the left, PB. Yessssssssssssss. That's the sweet spot.”

“Maybe I've been hanging with Crazy a bit too much lately but, Sols…that just didn't sound…appropriate just there.”

“Erm… Okay, I gotcha, PB,” Solya mumbled meekly, embarrassed that she was even making those noises in public and that she was loud enough to be commented on, “My bad…I'll tone it down. And thank you for the Vulcan Death Grip—does wonders for tension knots.”

“Um, it's not a prob, Solya.”

“Good.”

“Um, Sol…”

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure you want me to come into this session with you?”

“Well, yeah…why not?”

Picking at a small hole in his Jeans, Jerrod tried to think of a suitable way of explaining his thoughts, hoping not to offend or disappoint her with his answer. The last thing he wanted was for her to get flabbergasted and leave in a huff or shut down, from feeling rejected or embarrassed, and not talk at all. He had to think this through carefully. More time must have gone by in his retrospection than he figured because he was startled out of his thoughts by a vigorous shake to the shoulder.

“Sometime before menopause, buddy boy,” Solya urged in as playful a tone as she could muster, inside cringing in advance at all the possible bad things he could say.

Jerrod heard the underlining apprehension and decided to just delve in carefully but honestly.

“To be honest, you may be ready…for me to be involved in your sessions…but…I don't know if I am,” he began, looking into her eyes for understanding. Seeing her rapt attention, he continued, “It's just, well, you've been through a lot and I just don't feel comfortable being in a place where your most intimate moments can be deciphered…but, not totally by you. I hope that made sense. Your therapist is like…well, in a lot of ways, you're an open book to her and I just feel like…hell, I guess I don't know how to explain this. I just…I'm not really comfortable with the concept, Sol, that's all.”

Solya's arm dropped from his shoulder and she pulled her other hand from his grasp. With a dejected slump of her shoulders, she nodded and turned away. “I…understand. Wow. I'm sorry if you felt pressured to attend on my behalf, Je—”

“No. That's not it at all,” he interrupted with a concerned frown, deciding to just spit it out, “I-don't-like-to-see-you-vulnerable-and…and…I get flashbacks, sometimes, Solya…of what happened to you in 7th grade—it was scary. It affected me for a long time.”

“I-I never knew…”

“I didn't want you to…I remember it all and it's just…not pretty…and…I can't separate the two. I don't really like to think about it and the thought that you'd have to talk about it—and possibly be affected by it—I just can't sit by and be ineffective and unnecessary again.”

“Who said you were unnecessary, Jer? I needed you then. I still do.”

`Do you really, Sol?' he asked her with his eyes as he pondered her statements. As if in answer to his silent musings, she reached out rested her hand over his cheek and smiled a tremulous smile. “Really? `Cause I—”

“Yes, really…I do”

“That makes me feel really good, that you feel that way. Thank you,” he returned, ending with a heavy sigh as he realized the end of his thoughts still lead down a road she didn't want to wander—the path of self-reliance. “Still…I-I'd rather…not…”

“Then, that's that. I'll just have to do the norm and go one on one—and that's fine with me,” she lied as bravely as she could, then cleared her throat and stood up, back straight with a forced smile, “But, it's my session after all, right? You're just here for support. That was the plan and we…should stick to it. It's all good, PB.”

`No! You're not doing this again! Dammit! Quit avoiding things and talk to me—your folks, Dr. Busch—someone!' Jerrod erupted within.

He knew; but knowing the truth is the light, knowing Solya needed to see things clearer didn't help if she chose to live life with blinders on. But sometimes living in the dark is just so appealing. Still, at this point in the ballgame, she couldn't handle such hard truths. So, he went for the role he knew best: the comforter.

Hugging her from behind, Jerrod sought to soothe her, to get her to talk to him and not back away from a hurtful truth. “Sols, I can't help but feel that your upse—”

“Ms. Amarante, Dr. Busch will see you now,” the receptionist announced, effectively ending Jerrod's attempts.

“I'm fine,” Solya choked out as she practically leapt out of his hold and walked briskly to the office.

“I'm still here…Solya…” Jerrod called softly as she opened the door to her therapist's room. She paused before entering and closing the door behind her.

He knew she heard him.

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`Okay, this isn't good…' Dr. Busch mentally noted as she observed Solya once again prolonging unnecessary topics to avoid therapy. `Has it been 20 minutes already?'

This time was worse and she barely said five entire sentences outside of `I really don't feel like talking today' as she stared at the ceiling and sighed.

“Miss Amarante, I find you to be rather distracted this session. Actually, you were this way last week as well and we didn't really get very far.”

“I know. I'm sorry,” Solya whispered with her head down.

“Don't be sorry, Solya. Just talk to me,” Dr. Busch encouraged.

“Do I have to? I'm just not in the mood right now.”

“Well, that would make your coming to this session a vain effort. I'd like to understand what's going on with you and I feel you'd benefit from participating more. What's on your mind, lately?”

Sitting up straight in the chair she occupied, Solya nearly glared at her therapist before she caught herself and groaned heavily. How was she to say everything she felt when her mind was a jumble and most of her energy was focused on stifling her urge to cry?

“I'm…just…it's…complicated,” she tried. `I feel alone…again…'

“Okay, that helps somewhat. At least you're trying to explain things, even if you're at a loss. How about telling me the first thing that comes to mind? Try that.”

“I feel…um…” Solya trailed off at a loss and sighed, blurting out the first thought that crossed her mind, “I feel frustrated.”

“Good, now we're getting somewhere,” Dr. Busch smiled warmly, “So, what types of things are frustrating you lately? Is there anything on your mind that you're having difficulty discussing?”

Attempting to avoid eye contact, Solya turned away from Dr. Busch and grumbled. She knew this tactic by now; how her therapist could easily breach her defenses and get information out of her with practiced ease with that disarming smile—so much like her father's—but she just wasn't in the mood to get into it right now. As usual, when faced with upsetting things, she either blew up or shut down—usually more of the latter. But she knew well enough that that behavior wasn't advisable in this arena. Still, she wasn't feeling very talkative and just gave a disimpassioned shrug.

“Two of your main goals are to lessen your tendency to isolate and increase communication skills; I've observed your slight regression and that's a concern. I'd rather not have to go back to the original therapy setup, with your parents in attendance, but I'm starting to believe that may become necessary once mo—”

“No! Please? I'll talk. Just, don't…don't…I'll talk,” Solya pleaded with wild eyes, posture suddenly straight and rigid.

At Solya's outburst, Dr. Busch couldn't contain her look of surprise and concern. `There's something there. Mental note: discuss this later.'

“Alright, if you promise to talk, even if it seems small or insignificant, then I believe those changes can be avoided.”

“Thanks,” Solya breathed, relieved.

“You're welcome, Solya. Now, did something stressful or troubling occur over the last two weeks; anything you had particular difficulty with?” Dr. Busch pressed.

“Honestly, there really isn't enough time left in this session for all of it. I can say I've had enough of `therapy' to last three lifetimes. What I mean, Doc, is half of my dear old pals decided to go Dr. Phil on me and let me tell you, it was exhausting. That was how it was before my last session and that's why I didn't want to talk; it felt redundant and irritating to even think about going through all that crap again.”

“I see. And I do understand your frustration at the overload of friendly advice—I can relate. Still, I'm in the dark if you don't give me something to go on and, even meaning well, their advice could've been off. By that, I mean biased. Can you summarize the most stressful aspects of the last two weeks, then?”

“Um, well, it was like I was being…like they weren't…I felt like my friends didn't trust me. Like they didn't think I could handle things on my own…like it was after…”

“After…?”

“You know…7th grade, Doc.”

“Ahhhh, I see.”

“I'm not that same person. I'm not! You said so yourself, I'm growing and I'm becoming much more self-sufficient! You said it! Why won't they believe it? Just because I need to talk sometimes…just because I get a little confused sometimes…just because I'm not as in the know as they are…do they have to baby me, Doc? I just wanted them to give me the benefit of the doubt, yanno? Was that asking too much?”

“No, I wouldn't say so. You've come a long way and have overcome tremendous odds and you deserve to feel proud of your achievements, even if no one else ever does. It's all about self-worth, remember?”

“Yes, I remember, Doc.”

“But, remember what we also discussed about trying to see things from the other person's perspective?”

“…Yeah.”

“Well, if you do that, what do you see?”

Solya sighed. She knew that question was coming. She knew the answer, too, and it always felt like a trap to answer because it made her to justify others' reactions. Still she answered, knowing resistance was futile.

“They're…concerned,” Solya muttered, annoyed.

“I'd say so, as well. It's all a part of—” Dr. Busch began, only to be cut off by the buzzer. Solya jumped and yelped in surprise and her therapist laughed at the look on her face. “My, Miss Amarante, inhale a pot or three this morning?”

“You're a regular laugh riot, Doc,” Solya drawled as she rolled her eyes.

“Ain't I?”

“….No,” Solya laughed and Dr. Busch smiled.

“This session ended much better than I originally predicted. Lastly, have you been journaling?”

“Yeah; not much, but I did a few entries.”

“Well, we can discuss that next week if that makes things easier for you. How about that?”

“That'll do. So, same time next week, right?”

“Yes. Then, starting next week, there will be a few adjustments in counseling and schedule.”

“What? What do you mean, Doc?” Solya asked in a mildly panicked expression.

“We'll discuss it then, okay? Right now, I have another patient. Have a nice week, Solya.”

“Yeah…” Solya agreed absently as she left the office, waving goodbye to her therapist.

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Solya closed the door behind her and slowly walked to the waiting room, taking a seat at the first one available.

Jerrod, taking in Solya's dazed countenance, was at her side in a flash. “Sol? What's wrong?”

Snapping out of her mental meanderings, Solya smiled cheekily at Jerrod and grabbed his arm, pulling him out the waiting room.

“Sol…hold up…where're we going?” Jerrod whined as he was dragged towards the exit doors by his best friend.

“Stress relief,” Solya answered and laughed before adding an afterthought, “If you say anything even remotely perverted, I'm gonna pinch you in an unforeseen place and twist it until it turns violet.”

“As violent as ever,” Jerrod laughed as he tried to keep his balance, “Deep session?”

“Yeah, I was, kind of.”

“Oh, I see… So, you just need to unwind a bit, huh?”

“Yeah, I just need to do something—something physically exerting.”

“So, we're cool, right? I mean, you understand what I said, right?” Jerrod asked as he finally matched his pace to Solya's.

“Oh…that. Yeah, it's fine. Had time to let it marinate and I think I get your meaning. We're cool, Jer.”

“Good. So, we headed for the courts or what?”

“Nah. I still have a bag of tokens from the outing me and Papi went on. Dance Dance Revolution, here we come!”

`The things I subject myself to for my friends. Oy.' Jerrod, knowing Solya would dance circles around him—and tease him about it the entire time—grimaced but finally agreed, figuring it was well enough as long as she was happy.

“Okay, but you're financially responsible for any and all injuries I may incur during said activities, including pain killers, chiropractor bills, and hospital stays.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah… C'mon, `Dances with Considerable Difficulty', let's boogie!”

“You did not just say “Let's boogie”, did you?”

“Sure did!” Solya beamed, “Now, let's go!”

“Calgon, take me away…” Jerrod whined as Solya hailed a cab.

Solya just held on tight and laughed.

“Hey, where'd Miss Broke get cab fare?”

“Kicking ass in video games—Jesse was too easy—70 bucks, my man!”

“Well, hell! You're in the money! I want dinner and a hot water bottle, then!” Jerrod huffed whimsically as he followed her into the cab, “And you'd better call me in the morning!”

As the taxi rolled on, Solya's gay laughter rang down the block and Jerrod just shook his head.

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As Solya slid under her covers, she smiled. She'd had a really nice time that was as exciting as it was relaxing. No matter how stressful her sessions were, Jerrod had a way of lightening the mood. Their outing to dance her tension away turned into an hour long stamina contest. She just barely won, based on points for accurate steps while Jerrod surprisingly kept up with most of the steps but faltered in more advance techniques. In an attempt to soothe his wounded pride, he challenged her to Ms. Pac Man—the only game she could never get very far in, and he knew it. After and hour and a half of getting eaten by Technicolor ghosts, she was through. They traveled the arcade for the next two hours, playing various games in 2-player mode. As agreed, Solya treated Jerrod to pizza while she chose a Chicken Caesar Salad, broccoli and cheese soup and breadsticks.

The two friends ended the evening in a small night club that mostly catered to the college crowd that was hosting a Karaoke Night. After a few games of darts and air hockey, Solya convinced Jerrod to sing and they signed up. Jerrod sang `Brick House' then `Candy Girl' in falsetto—poorly—but the crowd was either too inebriated or having too much fun to notice. Solya staunched her laughter and cheered him on and earned a cheesy bow for her efforts. Solya sang `I Love the Night Life' and `Upside Down' without missing a word for once thanks to the written prompts, and one duet with Jerrod—`Solid As A Rock'. Half the club laughed good-naturedly at their accompanying dancing and Solya, just having fun, soon had the crowd to joining in the chorus. Upon learning that Solya was soon to be 18, a few of the college students offered her mixed drinks as an early birthday toasts; she politely turned down the harsher drinks for plain juice, Shirley Temples and Virgin Peach Daiquiris and shared with Jerrod. Jerrod paid for the cab back to her house and after saying hi and chatting with her parents for a while, he walked home.

`That was just what the doctor ordered. I feel much better.'

Thinking back to her session, she wondered briefly what her therapist had planned for the next few sessions. Would it be a good thing? No. She shouldn't dwell on those things she decided. Whatever will come, will come; she had bigger fish to fry…

“Now for tomorrow…the date…dun, dun, dunnnnn!” Solya giggled nervously, “Wait. Why am I nervous? This is Jesse—practically crew-worthy—it's just dinner with a bud…right?”

Rolling over to get comfortable in her covers and pillow, she nodded resolutely. `Right.'

That squared away, and hours of activity under her belt, sleep came nearly instantaneously.

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Saturday, from morning to early evening, was a blur. The day seemed full of last-minute calls of advice and encouragement—five in all, from Jazmin, Juan, Larry Boy, Josie and Crazy, ranging from cosmetic, the practical, to just plain blunt and raunchy—damned horny guy buds of hers. She received a pop up visit from Josie with a pair a black leather ankle boots she'd bought her for the occasion and, after about an hour of badgering, Solya finally agreed to let Josie put a light application of makeup on her, exchange her jewelry, style her hair, and squirt two sprays of perfume on her, grumbling the entire time. Denise just smiled proudly and sat back watching the entire thing while Lamar stood to the side with his arms folded, slight grin on his face. Solya, they noticed, looked nervous but excited, and then bowled over when Josie placed a mirror in front of her.

`That's…not me' was all she could think as she took in this beautiful looking creature that stared back at her with the same bewildered, but no less alluringly shocked face.

Josie hugged her proudly, careful not the flaw her makeup or wrinkle her outfit. As her parents gave her the once over, Josie filled the black clutch with what she deemed `the essentials'; a pack of chewing gum, Tic Tacs, perfume, lip gloss, a travel-sized package of napkins, a comb, Solya's ID, $25, dental floss, a mini sewing kit, Solya's cell phone and a 30 minute phone card her father bought her for the occasion, a toothbrush, a compact mirror and three condoms—under all the guys' insistence. After almost a roll of film full of pictures taken—a few with Solya rolling her eyes in them out of either embarrassment or annoyance—it was time. The taxi Jerrod called for Solya arrived around 5:30 to take her to his house and she waved goodbye to everyone with a nervous smile and they called back their encouragements as she entered the cab.

The ride over was a little nerve wrecking as she was totally out of her element. Berating herself in hindsight for allowing Josie to talk her into being made up like a girly girl, she was constantly rechecking herself in the mirror and imagining all the dainty stuff she'd have to do throughout the date, now that she looked so damn prissy. Tempted to wipe all the makeup off and toss the jewelry and hair accessories in the clutch, she never had a chance. The driver announced she'd arrived at Jesse's house and her heart sank.

`So much for that brilliant train of thought…imagine, Jesse watching me furiously scrub my face free of make up on his porch. Yeah, that'll be one to remember—scratch that one. Oh well, I do look nice and I guess I can be a little girly—ugh! But, he doesn't know me like that—oh, what do I do?'

Thinking these and other random last minute thoughts, she never noticed the door opening or the young man practically gaping at her the moment he laid eyes on her.

Her hair, in mini twists, pulled up and off her face to swirl back into a loose bun; her face adorned with lightly applied nude lip gloss, subtle shades of beige and pink blush, and powder blue eye shadow; a teal pantsuit that fell loosely, but proportioned over her features to rest lightly on shiny black ankle boots with jeweled embellishments; and to top it off, a diamond necklace, earring and bracelet set that Josie loaned her to set the entire ensemble off.

She was very ladylike in appearance and without trying hard, pulled off the look flawlessly.

“Hi, Butterfly,” Jesse breathed awed, taking in this evolved version of the woman he thought couldn't get any prettier—he was mistaken. “You look…look…wow…you go, girl!”

Solya laughed shakily and swallowed hard, taking in his attire. An open royal blue blazer over a crisp white dress shirt with gold cufflinks, top two buttons opened, jet black dress slacks and shiny black loafers. This hair was slicked back in a low tail and he had a small gold chain around his neck.

`He got this dressed up? For me?'

He pulled a white rose out from behind his back and passed it to Solya, who shyly accepted it. The wonder of the night to come, the chivalry in his actions, his smile and the appreciative glances he sent her way. It was just too perfect and she found herself struggling to get two words to come together to make a simple response.

`Say “thank you”, Sol. C'mon, you can DO it! Snap out of it, girl!'

Jesse gave her another one of those endearing smiles of his and she seemed to go mute for a minute. As if splashed with a bucket of ice water, she snapped out of her fuzzy little world and opened her mouth to speak.

`Gawd, he's so handsome…'

Solya could only think of one thing to say

“Hi.”

A/N: New reviewer alert! **walks like an Egyptian** WOW!You REALLYlike this story, huh? LOL! Well, shucky ducky, now, connect_2u—I'm BLUSHINGhere! Thanks for the detailed review! Those kinds of comments and ratings help much to the creative process (and help me understand what my readers are getting out of the story). Yokatta! Erm...that's Japanese for “I'm so glad” (or something to that extent, I believe). Hey, like my username says, I love anime cartoons! ^_-) Hope you enjoy Chapter 9—hope all my seven…oops, EIGHT fans enjoy it