It's a trash bag, Jesse thought, detestedly, high school's a

trash bag, because it's full of it. There he was again, a seventeen

soon to be eighteen year olde boy, sitting in the very back of his

English Four class. The text book before him lay open - open and

dormant, with a monotonous voice droning in the background: the

story was being played on audio cassette. But, it did nothing to

help Jesse at all. He still could not understand the world of

language, no matter how many times a story, poem, or play was

read and explained to him.

Through the midst of the reading of Shakespeare's Macbeth,

Jesse heard a tiny titter from his right. Craning his neck to see

where the noise came from, he saw the new girl to the school covering

her mouth to muffle her laughter. Momentarily staring at her, and

trying to get what she was laughing at - it finally came to him.

The girl was laughing at the scene in the book. The class had just

started Macbeth, and all ready she was near finished with it. He

instantly felt envious of the girl: she read so quickly, understanding

it all.

"Fuck," he muttered.

The girl heard him, and turned her head to peer at the lithe boy.

At the same time, Jesse risked another glance at her. Their eyes met, both

of their pale skin turning pink; they looked back down at their books. The

girl thumbed her spiral notebook for a while, pondering whether or not to

speak with Jesse. She had only been there for about of month, but in that

time she had made no attempt to make friends. For one thing, living there

was so different than living in Texas, and for another, she simply hated

crowds, and people in general. Shrugging her shoulders, she tore a piece

a paper out as quietly as she could.

Jesse was almost a sleep when he felt a crumpled ball of paper hit

his head. It plopped down onto his desk, followed by another titter from

the girl. He could not grasp courage as his friends could, so he did not

look at the girl next to him. Jesse merely fingered the paper ball for

many minutes, then opened it circumspectly.

In ebony ink, a happy face with a beanie on, and it's tongue sticking

out, was drawn; with the words "Hi!" He silently laughed at her sketching of

him - the beanie looked exactly like the one he was wearing at the moment.

Jesse jotted a friendly, "Hey!" When she opened the paper, a wave of relief

hit her. She scratched some words onto the crumpled paper, then tossed it

back to him. "Margarette Bailey, but you can call me Bailey - everyone else

does." The first thing that Jesse thought was that her name was interesting;

something that was scarce around these parts of town. "Jesse Atherby," is

what he retorted. "Well," she scribbled back, "it's a pleasure meeting you,

Mister Atherby."

Then, the bell rang, leaving Jesse holding the note, and Bailey

rushing to her last class. He sat there, staring blankly at the paper.

It took the teacher five times calling his name to gain his attention.

Jesse blinked rapidly, then shoved the note in his back pocket, while

grabbing his notebook. He too, whipped out of the classroom, glad that

his last class of the day was a computer class.

Jesse had always been the youngest; in whatever group he had ever

been a part of - he was the baby. The friends he now had were all at least

two or three years older than him, even Dom's little sister beat him by a

year. So, now in his senior year, Jesse stuck to the library or the shop

for solace, trying desperately to either study or fix up his car. He

struggled to keep a D average in English, History, or any class that

needed a lot of reading. Luckily, he was able to be on the Minimal

plan to graduate, so he knocked out only one year of a language course

in freshmen year.

Now, though, he still had to take English 4 and Government. To be

frank, those two classes kicked the shit out of him. Jesse could read a

story twenty times, and still not remember most what the hell happened;

that or he got distracted too easily. And, novels were all the more

difficult. Jesse abhorred this fact, because he liked to read. He

could recall when his Mother read to him when he was younger - mostly

bed time stories and such, but she always made them fun because acted

it out, with voices included.

There was one book in particular that he adored more than anything

else: The Outsiders. Jesse analyzed his taste in books to run toward the

under dog type of literature, soley because he used to get his ass kicked

everyday when he was in Junior High, forever feeling like an outsider.

He once had been the new kid back in sixth grade. And, whether it was

a curse or blessing, Dom and his crew took the youngster under their wings.

It helped that Jesse had been around cars since he was walking. The Outsiders

copy he had was an olde paper back that he had picked up at a thrift store;

it cost a quatre: Jesse took it where ever he went.

The first thing he saw was Bailey when he entered the class.

It shocked him that he had not even noticed that she was in there, too.

She was sitting at a computer, slouching a bit, while typing lazily on

the keyboard. Bailey turned her head at the sound of the door opening.

Waving her hand for him to sit down next to her, she offered a bright

smile. Jesse idly shuffled his way over to her, the familiarity of the

chair bringing him much comfort.

It was recreational day in that particular class, so the students

were free to surf the web, work on other projects, or merely converse with

one another. Bailey chose to write a story, while Jesse opted for re-reading

the first act of Macbeth. The two sat in silence, in the back corner of the

computer lab. It was not a comfortable silence, nor was it uncomfortable,

it simply was two people of the opposite sex sitting next to each other.

Bailey felt like she should say something about the play they were reading,

since it was obvious to her he was having trouble with it. She had noticed the

lithe boy some weeks ago, at first brushing him off as just another slacker

that did not care anything for great works of literature. But, since she

finished all the reading before anyone else, as well as the work - she

began to study him. It was not that he did not care, she eventually

concluded, it was that he could not comprehend the difficult literature.

Bailey noticed that his large, lost puppy-looking eyes would

read a page, then would re-read it at least three to four times. It

intrigued her because she was always a good reader, learning how to

read out of simplistic books since she was three. But, as she grew

older, Bailey found that reading was something she cherished beyond

belief. She even had a library at home. Blatantly, it was strange

to her that most people she met hated reading, and only picked up a

book if it was mandatory. While Bailey was always ahead of her class,

even being offered the chance to skip three grades, she found that she

needed the experience of High School - no matter how much of a living

hell it could be.

"Are you dsylexic?" she broke through the solitude, only after he had

finished the page.

"Huh?" asked Jesse, confused, and startled.

"You know," stated Bailey, "where you see certain words backwards.

I had a friend that was back home, and it took her months to finish

a mere novelette."

"No," he grumbled, annoyedly, "I'm not dyslexic."

"I didn't mean to offend you, or anything. It's just I see that you read a

page like four times before you move on, so I just thought . . . "

"Don't think about me!" he whispered, harshly, turning his head to glare

at her, "I'm doin' okay by myself, so just keep your damn charity to yourself."

Bailey shrunk back from him, feeling as if Jesse had just back

handed her. Never did she believe that such innocent eyes could turn

fierce within a matter of seconds; especially over a few simple words.

All she wanted was converse a little with the boy that intrigued her -

nothing more. But, she found it hard when he kept a stone wall around

himself, even in his posture, did he defend against attakcs.

Jesse regretted the words the minute they spilled out of her

mouth. Even the tone he had used, made him want to kick his own ass.

Here was a perfectly nice girl, an intelligent girl to boot, which in

his opinion was hard to find - trying to befriend him, and he just made

himself out to be a complete asshole. Nice one, Jess, he bitterly,

remarked to himself.

"I wasn't offering charity, Jesse," Bailey tried to soften him, "I

just thought that maybe you'd like some help with Macbeth - that's all."

Bailey started to rise from her chair, popping out her floppy

disk fromt the A drive. Instantaneously, Jesse latched onto her wrist,

finding his shoes to be intriguing at the moment. She felt calloused

fingers wrap around her wrist, only then realizing that her wrists were

tiny; especially when compared to Jesse's long fingers. Peering down

at the boy in his subserving posture, she knew that he had picked on,

and was probably still given a lot of shit.

"Wait, don't go 'cause I'm an asshole,"

"That's an understatement,"

Jesse quickly brought his head up to look up at her. He

scoffed at the smirk she wore, that let him know she was not serious.

Bailey sat back down, pulling the chair close to Jesse. Their shoulders

touched, and both unconsciously leaned into each other, feeling the need

for companionship.

"I'm sorry," Jesse said, nudging her a bit.

"Apology accepted." she smiled at him, "Now, tell me what you

know about Macbeth."

"Uh . . ."

Jesse found it extraordanarily odd that the girl could

forgive so easily. Apparently she did not hold grudges. And,

the fact that she digressed so much on topics in conversation

made him want to get know her: he thought he was the only with

a wonky brain.

"He was a King?"

"Well, yes, but that came later. The more interesting stuff

is what happens before he is King, and how he becomes one . . . "

And, that was how the last period passed so quickly for them.

Neither of them could stay on the subject of Macbeth for very long.

With the talk of a more simpler time, they found out that they shared

of love of the Dark Ages; the legends of King Arthur, Dungeons and

Dragons, and they were both frequenters of the Renissance Fairs.

The last time Macbeth was even touched on in their conversation was

when Bailey mentioned that one of her Magick the Gathering cards had

a quote from the play on it.

When the bell rang, Bailey quickly gathered her things. Then she

pulled out a permanent marker, and grabbed Jesse's right arm. Thinking

that her fingers felt as soft as feathers, he closed his eyes, while she

wrote on his arm. When he opened them, Jesse found that she was staring

at him strangely. He looked down on his arm to find her number, along

with her name written in exaggerated script. Her name took up most of

his arm, and he knew that it would be there for a few weeks. Oddly

enough he had no problem with that fact.

"You're an odd one, aren't ya'?"

With that, Bailey swept out of the class room, her trench coat

swaying with her walk. Jesse watched the door long after she had departed,

smelling the faint scent of Vanilla linger. He drew his shoulder to his nose,

only to find that scent was stronger there. Jesse shivered, then smelled the

area on his arm that had her name and number on it: more Vanilla. Through the

flickerings of computer screens, he smiled contently.

Mia was currently jumping up and down on Jesse's bed. The

room used to be a guest room in Dom and Mia's house, but when Jesse's

Father abusiveness came to a breaking point - he moved in with his

closest friend. Though Mia was the younger of Jesse, he felt that

she was his little sister. Mia was a subtle mixture between a young

woman, and a twelve year olde teeny bopper who has had way too much


"Jesse's gotta' girlfriend - Jesse's gotta' girlfriend," Mia sang at

the top of her lungs.

With one last note, she plopped on the bed, giggling at the

bouciness of the mattress. Jesse wheeled his chair back over to his

computer, idly typing a few keys. His right eye twitched ever so

slighty; he was completely aggravated at Mia's tyrade. He knew that

the entire house heard, and by now, he suspected, the entire

neighbourhood would be awake.

"I guess your happy with yourself, now, huh?" he grumbled,

running a hand through his hair.

"Absolutely. You gonna' call her, Jess?"

"None of your business,"

"Ah, come on Jesse, if she wrote her number on your arm, she likes

you," Mia dragged out the words like song.

"It doesn't mean jack - go away,"

"Course it does, you dumb fuck. Obviously she had paper with her right?"

"Yeah . . . "

"Yet, she pulled out a marker, choosing to make contact with your

skin. She wants to touch you, she likes to touch you,"

Jesse had thought of this before, as well. But, he found it

useless to hope for any kind of female attention. Unless it came from

Letty hovering over him like an over-protective mother; more so when

he came hope with a bloody nose, or split lip - compliments of the

football team. And, then there was Mia who lived for annoying him.

Jesse swore that he would never have kids - never.

"And, from the weird ass expression you've been wearing since you got

home, I think you enjoyed it - a lot," Mia said, making her way over

to the door.

She closed the door just in time to avoid Jesse's notebook hitting

her smack dab in the middle of the face. Turning back to the computer

screen with a sigh, Jesse picked up the phone. He punched in the numbers

in so quickly, her number all ready memorized long ago. With the first

ring, he slammed the phone down with a groan. Jesse rubbed his eyes; it

was only ten o'clock and sleep was creeping up on him. Once again he

dialed the number, but this time he let it ring . . .

And, it did ring, for quite a while. Then shocking him out of

his near slumber, a voiced answered with out of breath "Hello?"

Instantly, Jesse froze: he knew it was Bailey, but her voice sounded

almost as if she had been . . . He shook his head, and finally spoke,

"Bailey, it's me Jesse." "Oh," she sounded relieved, "sorry it took

so long, I was upstairs in the shower. And, so I practically flew

down the stairs to get to the phone. Can you hold on a sec, I'm


Bailey put the phone down, leaving Jesse dumfounded. He saw a

flash of Bailey naked and laying on his bed. Jesse blinked rapidly,

then cleared his throat. Thoughts like that, he told himself, will

do you no good, man. He heard the phone being picked up once more.

"'Kay, I'm back. What's up?"

"Oh, just wanted to talk - feelin' bored, and about ready to gouge out my eyes,"

"Aw, man, don't do that,"

"Why not?" asked Jesse, idignantly.

"You have nice eyes, kind of sad, but really nice," her voice faded into nothingness.

"Uh . . ."

"I take it no one's ever given you a compliment?" Bailey's playfullness

seeped back into her entire body.

"Unless it my handy-work on cars - no," he finally felt like he could take

pride in something in front of Bailey.

"You work on cars?" Bailey inquired, astounded.

"Um, yeah. It's probably one of the only things I'm good at." he sighed,

slouching in his chair.

"Dude, you're way too pessimistic. Think you could fix a cylinder that

has crack in it 'bout the size of the Grand Canyon?"

"Wait - what?" Jesse became lost, "What kind of car you got?"

"Nineteen eighty-five Mustang," she answered as if saying the sky were blue.

"Whoa, that's fuckin' awesome. Engine?"

"Two eighty-nine. It'll get up to about a hundred and fifty, but I'm

not much of a speedster,"

"Too bad,"

"Why's that?"

"One could make some money off of it, you know?"

"At the cost of my car, or even worse, my life? Thanks, but no thanks, man,"

"That's my out look on it, too. I'm more into the technology of things;

see how it works, and trying to get it to go faster - run smoother,"

"I see why English isn't your thing,"

"How's that?"

"It's a common fact that people who read well, don't do too good in math

and science. And, vice versa,"

"Really, so I'm a statistic?"

"Essentially. What's it feel like?"

"The same, except I think it boosted my ego a bit,"

For such a simple conversation that one night, became almost a

nightly ritual. In fact they spent so much time on the phone with each

other, Jesse got his own phone line. They were friends, but not the

greatest at first. For a while, they merely passed little drawings of

the different ways to kill their too dull English teacher. But, eventually

the tight awkwardness drifted away until it was no longer even a memory.

Bailey's car currently sat in Dom's two car garage at his house.

Oddly enough, Bailey had not even met Dom, and only once heard his voice

over the phone when he had picked it up. Jesse did not constantly work

on her car, but enough so that little by little it became like it should

have been. She had paid nine hundred dollars for the sleek machine, but

it had a lot to be done on it. While Bailey insisted that it did not need

to be any faster, just "drivable", Jesse insisted that it would not hurt

to make it "raceable."

But, now Jesse felt that his "family" should meet the infamous

Bailey. Besides they were constantly asking when they could meet her:

he talked about her enough. So, when Dom planned one his beloved barbeques,

Jesse fretted about inviting her. Jesse knew that his friends could be quite

frank about certaing things. And, it was not as if he deemed Bailey a

wide-eyed innocent - it was just that she came from a well-to-do family

and upbringing.

He wondered if she would think less of him if she knew he lived

off of Dom. Even though Jesse did work for Dom at the tiny auto shop.

Yet, it gave Jesse hope when Dom talked of getting a bigger and better

place eventually. For Jesse, eventually seemed a thousand life times

away, more so because of damnable school five days a week.

Jesse leaned against Bailey's locker, waiting for her to come

out of their computer class. He had skipped the last period to work

at the shop, and now was the time to . . . Jesse saw her whisk out of

the classroom, a bit hunched down and looking as if she had just lost

her best friend. As Bailey neared her locker, she took notice of Jesse

standing there - she instantly brightened.

"What are doing out here, and where the hell were you? It's way too

boring in there all by myself, especially with incessant ramblings on

RAM and REM, and other wonky details of computers that I don't know

about. You better have a good explanation for not being there,"

Her words all ran together, making Jesse stay absolutely still

and silent, trying to figure out just what she said. From her crossing

her arms across her chest, and posture in general, he could tell she was

peeved at him. He chuckled, nervously, hoping that he could actually

spit out what he had been trying to ask for the past week.

"Wanna' come to a barbeque this afternoon?"


"Dom has a monthly barbeque, and I'd - I 'd really like it if you came with me,"

"As in a date-like thing?" asked Bailey, with a half-grin.

"Well . . . yeah, I guess," Jesse stared at his shoes.

"I'm a vegetarian. Remember?"

"Oh - yeah, I forgot. So, I guess I'll see you Monday, huh?"

Jesse propelled himself of the lockers, feeling as if his

heart had been ripped out then danced on. Bailey sighed, then

roughly caught him by the shoulders. She pulled him back, and

he stumbled momentarily. Turning to face her, Jesse found it

hard to look Bailey in the eyes. Bailey shook her head, then

shook Jesse by the shoulders, trying to shake some sense into him.

"Guys really are ignorant, aren't they?"


"I've been trying to get you to ask me out since we met. And, then you

wanna' go sulk because I said I'm vegetarian . . ."

"You said you didn't want to come!" defended Jesse.

"I never said that, Jess," she rolled her eyes, then rested her

hands lightly upon his shoulders, "I said I'm a vegetarian, but

don't barbeques usually have potato salad, and shit like that?"

"Oh, yeah, they do. Actually Mia makes good potato salad,"

"Good. Now, do you want me to walk home with you, or meet you there later?"

"You'll actually walk home with me?"

"Jesse, I swear if the male population gets any denser . . ."

Bailey cut herself off by standing on her tip-toes, planting

a chaste kiss on his lips. Jesse stood there, eyes open, and mind

spinning. He could feel his heart beating rapidly, feeling as if it

were about to rip its way out of his chest and do a little Irish jig.

It would have completely fine with Bailey if the kiss had stayed chast,

but when he pulled her closser, deepening it, she did not complain.

"How much longer?" whined the tired Bailey.

"Just up there - see it?" he pointed toward the house.

"I can't walk anymore," and, she sat down on the sidewalk.

Groaning, Jesse stopped and walked over to her. He stood,

waiting for her to find whatever it was she was digging for hin her

bag. Bailey pulled out a cigarette, with a triumphant grin on her

face. Soon she had one lit, with Jesse sitting beside her. He did

not mind her smoking, not at all, but he thought she could have

picked a better time.

"Couldn't you have done that when we got there?"

"I'm an addict, I beckon when the craving calls," she retorted,

blowing a smoke ring.

"That's pathetic, but the ring's impressive,"

"Want one?"

"I only do it once in a while. I'm more of toke kind of person,"

"Ughh," she said, disgustedly, "they smell worse than these."

Jesse shrugged his shoulder, and she threw down her smoke. Then,

surprising him, she threw her arms around his neck from behind him. Bailey

softly, nuzzled his neck, leaning into his thin body. He leaned back a bit,

never really smelling cigarette smoke, but her body spray that she used.

"Give me a piggy-back ride, please?" she whispered, seductively.

He bent down, and Bailey instantly jumped on. He jogged toward

the house, running zig zags in the road. Delighted squeals and laughter

came from the short girl. Jesse noticed that she was not that heavy, but

he was going to have to put her down soon: his legs were about to buckle

beneath him. As they neared the house, Dom, Letty, and Mia strolled outside

to see where all the racket was coming from.

Feeling Jesse becomming weaker, Bailey propelled herself backwards,

bringing Jesse with her. He landed between her legs, then she rolled them

over and over, both convulsing with laughter. They stopped when they saw

three sets of feet. A foot idly tapped, waiting for the scene to be over.

Bailey pushed herself up, then offered her hands to help Jesse up; he accepted.

Both teenagers stood before the trio, wearing sheepish smiles.

Jesse looked the more embarrassed, brushing off grass and dirt that had

planted itself everywhere on him. While the nonchalant Bailey, did not

even bother to wipe the dirt on her cheeks and nose.

Taking a deep breath, she climbed the stairs a bit, extending

her hand to Letty. Letty eyed the girl carefully, sizing her up. Her

first thought, "I can take her." Slowly, she extended her own hand and

they shook hands. Bailey grinned, happily: the most imposins female

figure seemed not to be too aggravated with her.

"Letty," she introduced herself, "nice to meet you."

"Likewise," replied the grinning Bailey, then pointed briefly at Dom,

"and, you must be the infamous Dom. Heard a lot about you."

"Likewise," said Dom, with the same collectiveness as Bailey had used previously.

Dom ambled back into the house, then out the back door to

check on his barbeque. Though, he would never, even he was tortured,

admit that he enjoyed cooking. Letty soon followed him, giving a nod

toward Jesse. Mia leaned against the wall, taking in all of the girl

that stood before her. She saw a very short girl, guessing that Bailey

was five one or five two. And, Mia could see what Jesse like about her.

With the goofy grin near plastered on her face all the time, Bailey emitted

a certain charm.

"I'm Mia, Dom's Sister," explained Mia, glancing at Jesse.

"Well, Mia, Dom's Sister, I am Margarette Bailey; but, just call me

Bailey," and, she bowed a bit to Mia.

Mia could not help herself, she smiled, adding an amused

laugh, then went back inside. Jesse strolled up to Bailey, laying

an arm around her shoulders. She looked up at him, with a surprised

face: she never saw him so bold. And, Bailey figured that it was due

to being at home and away from that cess pool of a high school.

"Come on," Jesse smirked, "I'll show you what I've been doin' to your car."

"You're a Dr. Jekel, Mr. Hyde, you know that?" she asked, while he

pulled toward the garage.

"Huh? What?"

"Dr. Jekel was this elderly doctor, nice, polite, and that chilvary

that's now dead. And, Hyde was the one that tinkered around with

odd parts of the body - a real mean sicko,"

"Is that what you think?" he inquired, abruptly stopping.

"What I mean, is that you're this funny kind of boy, then at the

mention of cars, you go all ballistic, and run to check on the

hood; or, tinker around with it,"

"Ah," he said, playfully, "you say the sweetest things, Bai."

"Shut up, you," and, Bailey lightly slapped him on the shoulder.

She pulled him down, but still had to stand on her tip-toes

to reach him. Jesse obliged her, leaning down to meet her embrace

and kiss. A mere soft kiss turned savage, and they mauled one another

in plain sight of the entire neighbourhood. He was startled as he

placed her hands in the back of his baggy jeans pockets, but quickly

got over it. So, Jesse repaid the favour by allowing his finger to

sneak under her shirt, grasping her sides firmly.

"Get a fucking room!" Mia yelled, then slammed the window shut.

She was passing through the living room, looking for the beer Dom

wanted to add to the barbeque sauce. And, low and behold, she caught an

odd sight. It was quite funny to her, to see Jesse practically having to

bend down as if he were going to pick something up; and, all just kiss

the vertically challenged girl. Mia, being the ever restless, aggravating

girl she was, could not help but embarrass them more. She practically

skipped off to the backyard, replaying how Bailey and Jesse jumped about

ten feet away from one another.

Bailey casually sat on top of a countre, swinging her legs to and

fro. Jesse was hunched over the hood of her Mustang, a few clanging sounds

coming from it now and then. She picked up a ratchet, then started to

swing it around her head. Then, Bailey began to sing in a high pitched

voice, wanting nothing more than to distract Jesse.

"If I had a ratchet," Bailey sang, obnoxiously, "I'd ratchet in the morning,

I'd ratchet in the evening . . ."

"If you sing anymore, I'll ratchet your ass," Jesse interrupted, poking

his head out from under the hood.

She stuck her tongue out at him, making a silly face. Jesse

scoffed, loudly, then went back to the car. Bailey gently placed the

tool down, jumping off of the countre. She made her way to Jesse, her

mind stuck on singing the song: she just could not get it to go away.

At first she stood on his left, inspecting his handy work.

A few weeks ago her Father had given her money to get the cylinder

replace. But, now the damnable Ford would not start. Bailey snuck

off behind him; he was too engrossed with cursing the car with every

swear word he had heard, and even a few he had just invented. She

snuck her hands around his waist, giving him a light embrace.

"Bai," he warned, even though her arms felt good around him,

"I'm tryin' to work."

"Oh, really?" she questioned.

Then, in a few swift movements, she had his belt undone.

The over sized pants that had been so carefully watched through

out the day to ensure they would not fall, did just that. Luckily

Jesse was a swift little bugger, and he caught them just before they

exposed too much. Though, Bailey broke down in giggled, then full

out laughter, at the sight of white boxers with hearts on them.

Jesse turned to study her; he tried his damnednest not to laugh

with her: he was tyring for an angry look.

"It's laundry day, and it's not that funny,"

"H-hearts, dude - h-h-hearts on u-underwear," and, she was reduced

to a kneeling position.

Finally, his cool broke, and Jesse cracked up with the obsurdity

of it all. Suddenly, Bailey stopped - then, laughed again. This happened

a few more times, each time she started to laugh again, the vision of the

hearts came back to her. Eventually the garage became quiet, Bailey stared

blankly at Jesse, while an amused grin was on his face. She crawled a bit

toward him, then stood on wobbly feet.

Bailey walked over to him, modeling her entire stance to that

of a predator hunting his prey. Jesse gulped at the look in her eyes.

Never had he see a girl look at him like that. The tool in his hand

dropped to the floor, the metal hitting concrete echoing through out

the room. Suddenly, Jesse felt endangered, and backed his way to the

countre she had occupied earlier. But, Bailey did not stop her pursuit,

she merely kept advancing on him, clearly enjoying the look of shock/fear

drippin from his face.

Only when he hit the counter, did his stop. She slowed her

pace, making sure he knew what her intentions were. Then, Jesse felt

around on the top of the counter - he grabbed hold of a screwdriver.

He held it out in front of him like a weapon. Shaking it a bit in a

warning manner, he thought seriously that she was going to devour him

whole. When she closed the space between them, Bailey lightly took

the screwdriver from him, dropping it on the counter.

In one swift movement, she jumped on him, wrapping her legs

around his waist. Jesse stumbled, momentarily, then held her up.

She wiggled her eybrows suggestively, to which he gulped once more.

Bailey tore off his beanie, revealing dark blonde hair, making him

appear as if he just rolled out of bed. Grabbing the back of his head,

she pulled his head to her, their foreheads resting on one another.

"Working, huh? Indeed, you'll work," and, with that she pushed her

lips to his.

Not long later, a car screeched to hault outside of the house.

Two men jumped out, both famished to a large extent. Vince picked up

his pace, wanting to be the first to get to the beer and food. Lance

lagged behind, feeling a bit uneasy. A loud clang from within the

garage, made them whip their heads toward the right. A muffled scream

followed the clang, and Vince and Lance made eye contact.

Succinctly, they nodded at one another. Slowly, they crept

toward the garage, making sure their footsteps were silent. With

flick of his arm, Vince pulled the garage up. It seemed to happen

in slow motion for both of them, but what they saw made their mouths

near hit the ground.

The black Mustang had been a nice piece of eye candy for both

Vince, but the black bra that lay dormantly on the hood, made him take

a closer look. That was what he first saw, but then saw pale flesh

upon pale flesh, looking as if it were one body.

Jesse had Bailey backed into the passenger door, her legs

wrapped tightly around him. Her right hand clung tightly to his

the back of his head; her nails of the left hand dug into his right

shoulder. Both were shirtless, with Bailey's bra still sleeping on

the hood of her car. They were oblivious to fact that they were now

a specticle. Currently, Jesse was lapping at one her nipples, a few

reddening bit marks littered her neck.

Vince cleared his throat, audibly. With his head tilted in a

dog-like fashion, Lance wore a goofy expression. Instantaneously,

Jesse and Bailey turned their heads to peer at the two men. A shocked

gasp flew from Bailey's mouth, and she pulled Jesse closer in attempts

to cover herself. A voice yelling came to their ears, then the sound

of the door slamming shut. Smiling, cheekily, Vince cleared his throat.

"Supper's ready," with that he walked off.

A few seconds later, Vince rushed back, pulling the loitering

Lance with him to the house. As soon as they were gone, Bailey jumped

down off of Jesse, making a b-line for her bra. Still in shock, Jesse

stood watching her clasp her bra back on, then jump around with vigour

to find her shirt. He was brought out of his trance, when his shirt

hit his face. Swiftly he pulled back on, as she came to stand in front

of him.

In truth he thought he had never seen Bailey look more beautiful.

He face was tinged with pink, while her orbs were a fire with lingering

lust, and embarrassment. She slapped him on the arm. Jesse grabbed his

arm more out instinct, than pain. Then, she slapped on the other arm in

the same place.

"I hope your satisfied,"

"Hey," he defended, now holding both arms, "you started it."

"Well, next time learn to lock doors,"

Bailey ran a hand through her spiked hair, shaking her head.

She drew a deep breath, then started to leave for the backyard. Jesse

stood, dumbstruck, then abruptly rushed to her side. They walked side

by side, Jesse watching his feet as they walked. Now, he idly rubbed

his left arm.

"Wait," he said, befuddle completely, "there's gonna' be a next time."

"Oh, shut up," she rolled her eyes.

In the backyard, a large picnic table stood near a barbeque pit.

All sat making chit chat. Mia sat on the right of Letty, with the head of

the table empty, awaiting Dom. Dom stood at the barbeque pit, taking meat

off the grill. Opposite of Letty, Jesse sat, with Bailey on his right.

This left Vince on her side, with Lance near him.

Finally, Dom brought the bowl of chicken to the table.

Bailey could smell the meat, and she refrained from making a

comment about all the cruelty the chickens had to go through.

She felt Jesse move closer to her, foot nudging her to tell it

was okay. Everyone was still for the moment, and Bailey found

it strange no one said anything about the way she dressed, or

more importantly that her hair was spiked. Then, Vince grabbed

a piece of chicken . . .

"You know the rules, V," Dom interrupted his first bite.

"Fuck," muttered Vince, placing the chicken on his plate.

"Whoever reaches first for a piece of meat, has to say grace,"

explained Dom, looking at Bailey.

"Good thing I'm a vegetarian,"

"You don't eat any kind of meat," asked the surprised Letty.


"Then, what do you eat?"

"Lots of salads, and plus they make mock meats - like mock

chicken, burgers,"

"No way," exclaimed Mia, "really? Does it taste good?"

"I like it,"

"How do they make it?" inquired Letty.

"Well, a lot of is soy bean, but there . . . "

"All right, all right, you three can discuss this later.

Vince, you have the floor,"

"Uh . . . " Vince stuttered for a moment, "Heavenly Father, thanks

for the food, and for new job, and for fast cars, and . . ."

"Porn," Bailey interjected, to which everyone shot her a glance.

Bailey hid a grin behind a hand, attempting to with hold

her boisterous laughter. Jesse had all ready begun to laugh at

her antics. Then, everyone looked to Dom to see if he was pissed.

To their surprise, he was beginning to grin ear to ear; soon, bellowing

laughter broke forth from his body. No longer could anyone be astounded:

a round of titters and chuckles over came the yard, making Bailey feel at

ease. She looked up at Jesse, and he took hold of her left hand, enterlacing

their fingers.