for WIP Amnesty Day
I really wish I could finish this one--I really *like* it. But in the end, it's just a concept without a story, so it fizzled.
But here's the fizzle:
The bus was late.
Petra's short braids bounced as she dribbling a soccer ball between her sneakers. Kyle sat on his backpack, rolling his black rubber bracelets up and down his arms. "I don't get *why* they would think I'm gay," Kyle said.
"Whitney's a bitch. Don't worry about it." Petra swiveled and bounced the ball off Kyle's backpack instead.
"I know she's a bitch. But..." He shrugged. "This sucks."
"You really want to know?" Petra stopped the ball with her foot. "It's because you've got long hair, you do arty stuff like the newspaper, and you hang out with girls. But Kyle, man, everyone gets stories told about them. You've just gotta ignore it and think about your friends and, like your *life.* I mean, you don't wanna *stop* hanging out with girls, right?"
Kyle shook his head.
"Girls dig guys who hang out with girls without getting all weird." Petra grinned. "Hey, what do you think the odds are of Clara catching the bus?"
"Fifty-fifty," Kyle said.
"Five bucks says she misses it."
"You're--" Kyle felt his pockets. "Off, because I forgot my *wallet,*" he groaned. He collapsed.
"Did you pack a lunch?"
"*No.* This is so not my week."
"I'll spot you some," Petra said. Kyle buried his face in his hands.
*
Lex checked her watch. "We should get you to school."
Clara drained the last of her latte quickly, nodding. "Principal Kwan is being really strict lately."
"And I'd hate to get you in trouble just for breakfast." Lex plucked a stray almond off her plate and stood up.
Clara scrambled to her feet, feeling clumsier than usual. She *always* felt pretty clumsy next to Lex, though. Today Lex wore a long purple silk dress, showing off her height and her thin, elegant figure.
And Clara was in overalls and a flannel shirt. Well, she hadn't been expecting company.
Lex paid for breakfast and they went out to the car.
"Clara!" Clara jumped at the sound of her name and saw Loren Lang standing by his uncle's gift shop. Football player, gorgeous raven hair, big blue eyes, and Clara's crush for *years.* Eep.
"Um, hi!" Clara said. Lex poked her in the back with her keys. Oh. Hint. "Do you need a ride?"
Loren shook his head. "Whitney is supposed to pick me up. Just saying hi." He smiled.
Clara smiled, feeling like the biggest dork in the world. "Hi."
Honk. Clara turned and saw Whitney in her convertible. "*Hi,* Clara," she said. "Looking good."
Clara waved half-heartedly as Loren climbed into the car. "She really does hate you," Lex murmured as they drove away.
"Yeah," Clara sighed. "Her parents and mine made us play together all the time when we were little. She was all... Barbies, and I was all trucks, and it just didn't work. I kept breaking her stuff. Me and Petra got along much better since she's all about the trucks too."
Lex stepped into her car and Clara followed. "I had Barbies, and I had trucks, but I think my favorite toy was my computer," Lex said.
"So... I guess truck girls go well with computer girls." Clara hugged her backpack on her lap.
"So far." Lex smiled and roared out of the parking lot.
*
"There's our girl, arriving in style!" Petra nudged Kyle with her foot.
"Ferrari," Kyle sighed. "Wow."
Jody came over, hugging his books against his chest. "Wow. It's that Luthor's car?"
"Yeah. What I wouldn't give to test-drive that..." Kyle shook his head. "Basically nothing. Including my kidneys."
Clara stepped out of the car. She waved as Lex squealed out backwards.
*
[Clara mentions she has no dress for the party]
"I really didn't mean..." Clara looked around the store. "Seriously, Lex."
"I seriously love shopping for clothes. And if you don't let me buy you a dress, you're going to hurt my feelings." Lex pouted, then smiled. She took Clara's arm and marched her toward the fancy dress section.
"Okay, I *can't* do sleeveless. Or low-cut," Clara said, staring at the dresses.
Lex rifled through the rack. "Of course you can. You're a sixteen, right?"
"Sometimes an eighteen... But I have to, you know, *cover*..." Bra straps, and really huge guy-like shoulders, and breasts that did funny things sometimes. Most of the time.
Lex raised her eyebrow and pulled a dress from the rack. Then another one, and another one. "Try these on. No, wait. Underwear first." She took Clara's arm again and tugged her over to the lingerie department.
"Um!" She was blushing so, so hard when she looked at the stuff on the walls. She just--she *couldn't*--
A tiny little sales clerk came up to them. "Miss Luthor! What a pleasure. Can I help you find something?"
"My friend needs a couple of foundation garments," Lex said, gesturing to Clara. "Make one a halter-top."
"Of course!" The sales clerk took a long, hard look at Clara--oh GOD, she was sizing her up!--and trotted into the racks. Lex squeezed Clara's arm. "Here we are! We'll just find you a dressing room," the clerk called, emerging with a couple of satiny shiny black *things*.
And then whisked them back behind a curtain and into a big room with a mirror and a screen and a *couch,* and left them alone. "This is a dressing room?" Clara said.
"Mm-hm." Lex hung the dresses and non-bra lingerie things on hooks on the wall behind the screen. "This one goes with the blue dress. I can help if you need it."
"Um." She was still blushing, but... "Okay."
And the screen was high enough that she didn't feel weird about stripping down with Lex *right there.* Or not that weird. Or really kind of weird, but... it went all the way down to the floor, and that was more than normal dressing rooms did. Right?
Clara kicked off her hiking boots and dropped her overalls and T-shirt on top of them. She looked around--cameras? Okay, no cameras--and dropped her faithful cotton sports bra as well. Lex was right, you couldn't try on dresses like these in a sports bra. So she tried on the... thingy, the one that had two straps. It covered all the way down her stomach and dropped down low in the back.
And it *fit.* It was actually pretty comfortable. "That clerk knew my size just by looking at me?" Clara asked.
"Good service here," Lex answered.
"Wow."
And there was a blue dress, a black dress and a red dress. And the black dress was cut really... wow... and the blue dress had the special thingy, so... she slipped on the red dress.
And it was cut down... She looked down and turned red to match.
"I saw your arms. I know you have it on," Lex said.
"It's too small!"
"It is not."
"There's not--enough! It's too tight!" Clara crossed her arms.
"No it's not--" And Lex appeared around the screen. "It's perfect," she said.
"It's not!" She crossed her arms tighter.
"You haven't looked at yourself. It's perfect, Clara. Come on." Lex held out her hands. "Come on!"
Clara shook her head. Lex walked in, took her shoulders and pushed her out into the room. Up to the mirror. Where she could see her huge shoulders and her huge hips and her big feet in sloppy socks and her--cleavage, and plenty of it.
Lex pulled on her shoulders, straightening her up. "You're beautiful," Lex said.
"I'm six feet tall," Clara said. She slumped forward again, looking down at the floor, jerking her shoulder out of Lex's hand.
"So is Cindy Crawford. I know how you feel, Clara. Being bald is no picnic either." Lex picked up Clara's braid and pulled out the rubber band. "And I'm an A cup, and I have a big nose and a soft chin," she said as she ran her fingers up the braid, freeing Clara's hair.
"Aw, Lex..." Lex was gorgeous. She always looked *perfect,* all pulled-together and neat.
"But you don't notice, did you? It doesn't matter." Lex spread Clara's hair over her bare shoulders. It felt shivery, silky and alive as Lex combed her fingers through it. She wore T-shirts to bed--she didn't usually feel this.
"You have amazing hair, so you're one up on me," Lex said, resting her hands on Clara's shoulders. "Look up."
Putting red on a cow just made her a cow in red.
Lex pulled her closer, pulling her shoulders straight. "Look *up*," Lex said.
She could feel Lex's dress against her back, through the slippery wire of her hair. Her arms on Clara's arms, her hips sharp against Clara's butt. Her chin against Clara's neck.
It felt warm. Friendly. Clara really, really wanted to see what Lex said she saw.
She looked up. And she could see the way that the upside-down V of beads under the bosom echoed the neckline of the dress, bringing attention up instead of down to her huge stupid hips, and the way that it clung without being bulgy, and when she looked into the side mirrors, she could see how it made her look *tiny* from the side.
Her whole figure was showing, and somehow that looked *good*.
"Okay," Clara said.
Lex ran her fingers through Clara's hair, separating out a curl. She wrapped the rest around her hand, pulling it up on top of Clara's head. "Amazing," Lex said. "With a little bit of makeup, even blind people will see it."
*
*
"What a lovely young man," Leona said, looking out across the dance floor. She set down her drink.
Lex looked and saw Loren Lang. Loren Lang, whose sixteenth birthday party this was. "You're disgusting, Mother," Lex said, and walked swiftly across the dnce floor to the sound of her mother's laughter.
Loren was curled up with a piece of cake in one of the leather chairs at the edge of the room. He was watching the dance floor, stone-faced. "I see why you didn't like the preparations. You're a party of one," Lex said, leaning on the back of the chair.
Loren looked up. He brushed a wing of hair away from his eye. "I like it better by myself. If it were up to me, I'd spend my birthday in my room with my guitar. But it's up to my uncle, and that makes it up to your mom, I guess."
"Mm-hm." Lex looked over at her mother. Leona was toying with her diamond pendant, looking at Loren. "Would you like to dance?"
"Really not a dancer," Loren said.
"Would you like to walk around rhythmically?"
Loren laughed. "Okay." He stood up, took Lex's hand, and led them out onto the dance floor.
He did know how to dance. Lex had been expecting to have to lead, but Loren's hands were strong and sure on her waist. He was silent through most of the song, though.
"How old are you?" Loren asked after a few long mintues.
"Twenty-one."
"Oh. I thought you were older. Because I heard this rumor..." Loren looked over her shoulder, looking troubled. It was a pouty look. Lex bet it made the high school girls topple like ninepins.
"Rumor?"
"That you were engaged. To Bruce Wayne."
Bruce. Wayne.
Bruce *Wayne*?
Lex leaned in closer. "Here's a secret for you," she murmured into Loren's ear. Over his shoulder, she saw her mother watching them.
"Yeah?"
"He's already married. But you can't let anyone know. Hush-hush." That's what Bruce had told her, when she caught him in lie after lie. She didn't believe for a minute it was true--if only because she couldn't see Bruce getting that close to another human being.
Served him right having that rumor go around, though.
"Wow. Secretly married?"
"He can't announce it due to some conditions of his trust fund." Lex raised an eyebrow at him.
"It must be really awful," he said, "to be tied down like that--to have all that *control* over what you can do and can't do. Don't you just want to throw it away and scream?"
"Not really," Lex said. "The up side is that we get to be rich."
"Money is *meaningless*," he said, softly passionate.
Norman Potter owned the Talon movie theater and bar. He was one of the richest men in town. Lex let it go, though, and said only, "Porsches are sweet."
The song ended. Loren looked Lex in the eye. "Music is what matters. *Poetry.* Art matters. I hope you're not going to follow in your mother's footsteps--because you have more than that inside."
"Do I?"
"I can tell." It didn't *seem* like he was hitting on her. More that he was deadly earnest.
*
Clara took the dress over to the mansion in the morning. It just didn't look right in her closet.
Lex was curled up in her room with a stack of papers and the remains of breakfast. She wore black silk pajamas, with a purple-and-black embroidered robe over the top. She looked up and smiled as the butler showed Clara in.
"I'm here way too early," Clara said, standing nervously in the door.
"I wouldn't have let you in if I didn't want to see you. Coffee?"
"I'm good." Clara sat in the chair across from Lex. "Did you have fun at the party?"
"I had the most interesting conversation with Loren Lang. He's an odd boy. I see why you girls are all crazy for him," Lex said. "The big eyes, the soft voice."
Clara nodded, unable to keep from smiling.
"Not my type. I like someone sturdier."
[banter and foo]
Lex leaned back in her chair and stretched. "It's too early for either of us to be awake."
"Farm girl. Used to it," Clara said.
"Be idle rich for a morning, then," Lex said, and got up with her coffee. She smiled at Clara and climbed back into bed.
And Clara was pretty sure she knew an invitation when she heard one, so she followed. She took her boots off before getting in the other side.
"I'll keep the dress for you," Lex said, "but it's still your dress."
"I'm sorry. I don't want to be rude."
"You're not."
"I'm just not--I don't just--put it *out* there," Clara said, meaning *everything.* She didn't put anything out there. She kept everything inside. "You know?"
"I've noticed." Lex smiled at her, taking her hand.
*
Petra painted Kyle's nails purple with great concentration.
"I think I changed my mind," Kyle said.
"Dude! Shut up! Purple is manly." Petra blew on his nails.
"Purple is the opposite of manly."
"No, *pink* is the opposite of manly. Purple is K-State colors. People will think you're rooting for the team."
Kyle made a face. "Okay, that's worse."
"Fine! Do black again, see if I care." Petra shoved the tub of nail polish at him and tossed her braids out of her eyes.
"Why are you so cranky?"
"Because my dress got all muddy." She glared at the closet. "And it was a *great* dress."
"Yeah. It was," Kyle said sadly.
"It's *hard* to find petite dresses that don't suck. They're all for people who want to look *old.* But I'm sixteen and I have a great body! I want to show it off!" Petra shouted, jumping to her feet and bouncing up and down.
"Yeah, you do," Kyle said, resting his chin in his hands. "You looked completely awesome."
"Hey, you noticed." Petra grinned. Then she frowned. "Hey, Kyle. You noticed."
"You had a slinky white dress on. Of course I noticed."
"Since when did you notice anything except Clara's boobies?" Petra demanded. "You've been staring down her dress since the eighth grade."
"I have not!" Kyle blushed bright red.
"Only one hasn't noticed is *her*!"
"I don't stare!"
"Since when have you been staring at me?"
"I don't *stare*!" Kyle cried.
Petra stood over him, hands on her hips. She kicked his chair.
"Quit it!"
"You're some kind of dummy," Petra said, and kicked his chair again.
"What?"
"You're suppposed to try to kiss me, dummy."
"But you're kicking," Kyle said.
Petra pushed his chair away from the table and plopped down into his lap. "Don't mess up your nails," she said, and she kissed him.
Kissed him hard. "Okay," he said when she leaned back. He looked a little dizzy.
"When your nails are dry, you can try copping a feel," Petra said.
"I can? Will it work?" Seriously dizzy.
"Maybe," she said.
*
But here's the fizzle:
The bus was late.
Petra's short braids bounced as she dribbling a soccer ball between her sneakers. Kyle sat on his backpack, rolling his black rubber bracelets up and down his arms. "I don't get *why* they would think I'm gay," Kyle said.
"Whitney's a bitch. Don't worry about it." Petra swiveled and bounced the ball off Kyle's backpack instead.
"I know she's a bitch. But..." He shrugged. "This sucks."
"You really want to know?" Petra stopped the ball with her foot. "It's because you've got long hair, you do arty stuff like the newspaper, and you hang out with girls. But Kyle, man, everyone gets stories told about them. You've just gotta ignore it and think about your friends and, like your *life.* I mean, you don't wanna *stop* hanging out with girls, right?"
Kyle shook his head.
"Girls dig guys who hang out with girls without getting all weird." Petra grinned. "Hey, what do you think the odds are of Clara catching the bus?"
"Fifty-fifty," Kyle said.
"Five bucks says she misses it."
"You're--" Kyle felt his pockets. "Off, because I forgot my *wallet,*" he groaned. He collapsed.
"Did you pack a lunch?"
"*No.* This is so not my week."
"I'll spot you some," Petra said. Kyle buried his face in his hands.
*
Lex checked her watch. "We should get you to school."
Clara drained the last of her latte quickly, nodding. "Principal Kwan is being really strict lately."
"And I'd hate to get you in trouble just for breakfast." Lex plucked a stray almond off her plate and stood up.
Clara scrambled to her feet, feeling clumsier than usual. She *always* felt pretty clumsy next to Lex, though. Today Lex wore a long purple silk dress, showing off her height and her thin, elegant figure.
And Clara was in overalls and a flannel shirt. Well, she hadn't been expecting company.
Lex paid for breakfast and they went out to the car.
"Clara!" Clara jumped at the sound of her name and saw Loren Lang standing by his uncle's gift shop. Football player, gorgeous raven hair, big blue eyes, and Clara's crush for *years.* Eep.
"Um, hi!" Clara said. Lex poked her in the back with her keys. Oh. Hint. "Do you need a ride?"
Loren shook his head. "Whitney is supposed to pick me up. Just saying hi." He smiled.
Clara smiled, feeling like the biggest dork in the world. "Hi."
Honk. Clara turned and saw Whitney in her convertible. "*Hi,* Clara," she said. "Looking good."
Clara waved half-heartedly as Loren climbed into the car. "She really does hate you," Lex murmured as they drove away.
"Yeah," Clara sighed. "Her parents and mine made us play together all the time when we were little. She was all... Barbies, and I was all trucks, and it just didn't work. I kept breaking her stuff. Me and Petra got along much better since she's all about the trucks too."
Lex stepped into her car and Clara followed. "I had Barbies, and I had trucks, but I think my favorite toy was my computer," Lex said.
"So... I guess truck girls go well with computer girls." Clara hugged her backpack on her lap.
"So far." Lex smiled and roared out of the parking lot.
*
"There's our girl, arriving in style!" Petra nudged Kyle with her foot.
"Ferrari," Kyle sighed. "Wow."
Jody came over, hugging his books against his chest. "Wow. It's that Luthor's car?"
"Yeah. What I wouldn't give to test-drive that..." Kyle shook his head. "Basically nothing. Including my kidneys."
Clara stepped out of the car. She waved as Lex squealed out backwards.
*
[Clara mentions she has no dress for the party]
"I really didn't mean..." Clara looked around the store. "Seriously, Lex."
"I seriously love shopping for clothes. And if you don't let me buy you a dress, you're going to hurt my feelings." Lex pouted, then smiled. She took Clara's arm and marched her toward the fancy dress section.
"Okay, I *can't* do sleeveless. Or low-cut," Clara said, staring at the dresses.
Lex rifled through the rack. "Of course you can. You're a sixteen, right?"
"Sometimes an eighteen... But I have to, you know, *cover*..." Bra straps, and really huge guy-like shoulders, and breasts that did funny things sometimes. Most of the time.
Lex raised her eyebrow and pulled a dress from the rack. Then another one, and another one. "Try these on. No, wait. Underwear first." She took Clara's arm again and tugged her over to the lingerie department.
"Um!" She was blushing so, so hard when she looked at the stuff on the walls. She just--she *couldn't*--
A tiny little sales clerk came up to them. "Miss Luthor! What a pleasure. Can I help you find something?"
"My friend needs a couple of foundation garments," Lex said, gesturing to Clara. "Make one a halter-top."
"Of course!" The sales clerk took a long, hard look at Clara--oh GOD, she was sizing her up!--and trotted into the racks. Lex squeezed Clara's arm. "Here we are! We'll just find you a dressing room," the clerk called, emerging with a couple of satiny shiny black *things*.
And then whisked them back behind a curtain and into a big room with a mirror and a screen and a *couch,* and left them alone. "This is a dressing room?" Clara said.
"Mm-hm." Lex hung the dresses and non-bra lingerie things on hooks on the wall behind the screen. "This one goes with the blue dress. I can help if you need it."
"Um." She was still blushing, but... "Okay."
And the screen was high enough that she didn't feel weird about stripping down with Lex *right there.* Or not that weird. Or really kind of weird, but... it went all the way down to the floor, and that was more than normal dressing rooms did. Right?
Clara kicked off her hiking boots and dropped her overalls and T-shirt on top of them. She looked around--cameras? Okay, no cameras--and dropped her faithful cotton sports bra as well. Lex was right, you couldn't try on dresses like these in a sports bra. So she tried on the... thingy, the one that had two straps. It covered all the way down her stomach and dropped down low in the back.
And it *fit.* It was actually pretty comfortable. "That clerk knew my size just by looking at me?" Clara asked.
"Good service here," Lex answered.
"Wow."
And there was a blue dress, a black dress and a red dress. And the black dress was cut really... wow... and the blue dress had the special thingy, so... she slipped on the red dress.
And it was cut down... She looked down and turned red to match.
"I saw your arms. I know you have it on," Lex said.
"It's too small!"
"It is not."
"There's not--enough! It's too tight!" Clara crossed her arms.
"No it's not--" And Lex appeared around the screen. "It's perfect," she said.
"It's not!" She crossed her arms tighter.
"You haven't looked at yourself. It's perfect, Clara. Come on." Lex held out her hands. "Come on!"
Clara shook her head. Lex walked in, took her shoulders and pushed her out into the room. Up to the mirror. Where she could see her huge shoulders and her huge hips and her big feet in sloppy socks and her--cleavage, and plenty of it.
Lex pulled on her shoulders, straightening her up. "You're beautiful," Lex said.
"I'm six feet tall," Clara said. She slumped forward again, looking down at the floor, jerking her shoulder out of Lex's hand.
"So is Cindy Crawford. I know how you feel, Clara. Being bald is no picnic either." Lex picked up Clara's braid and pulled out the rubber band. "And I'm an A cup, and I have a big nose and a soft chin," she said as she ran her fingers up the braid, freeing Clara's hair.
"Aw, Lex..." Lex was gorgeous. She always looked *perfect,* all pulled-together and neat.
"But you don't notice, did you? It doesn't matter." Lex spread Clara's hair over her bare shoulders. It felt shivery, silky and alive as Lex combed her fingers through it. She wore T-shirts to bed--she didn't usually feel this.
"You have amazing hair, so you're one up on me," Lex said, resting her hands on Clara's shoulders. "Look up."
Putting red on a cow just made her a cow in red.
Lex pulled her closer, pulling her shoulders straight. "Look *up*," Lex said.
She could feel Lex's dress against her back, through the slippery wire of her hair. Her arms on Clara's arms, her hips sharp against Clara's butt. Her chin against Clara's neck.
It felt warm. Friendly. Clara really, really wanted to see what Lex said she saw.
She looked up. And she could see the way that the upside-down V of beads under the bosom echoed the neckline of the dress, bringing attention up instead of down to her huge stupid hips, and the way that it clung without being bulgy, and when she looked into the side mirrors, she could see how it made her look *tiny* from the side.
Her whole figure was showing, and somehow that looked *good*.
"Okay," Clara said.
Lex ran her fingers through Clara's hair, separating out a curl. She wrapped the rest around her hand, pulling it up on top of Clara's head. "Amazing," Lex said. "With a little bit of makeup, even blind people will see it."
*
*
"What a lovely young man," Leona said, looking out across the dance floor. She set down her drink.
Lex looked and saw Loren Lang. Loren Lang, whose sixteenth birthday party this was. "You're disgusting, Mother," Lex said, and walked swiftly across the dnce floor to the sound of her mother's laughter.
Loren was curled up with a piece of cake in one of the leather chairs at the edge of the room. He was watching the dance floor, stone-faced. "I see why you didn't like the preparations. You're a party of one," Lex said, leaning on the back of the chair.
Loren looked up. He brushed a wing of hair away from his eye. "I like it better by myself. If it were up to me, I'd spend my birthday in my room with my guitar. But it's up to my uncle, and that makes it up to your mom, I guess."
"Mm-hm." Lex looked over at her mother. Leona was toying with her diamond pendant, looking at Loren. "Would you like to dance?"
"Really not a dancer," Loren said.
"Would you like to walk around rhythmically?"
Loren laughed. "Okay." He stood up, took Lex's hand, and led them out onto the dance floor.
He did know how to dance. Lex had been expecting to have to lead, but Loren's hands were strong and sure on her waist. He was silent through most of the song, though.
"How old are you?" Loren asked after a few long mintues.
"Twenty-one."
"Oh. I thought you were older. Because I heard this rumor..." Loren looked over her shoulder, looking troubled. It was a pouty look. Lex bet it made the high school girls topple like ninepins.
"Rumor?"
"That you were engaged. To Bruce Wayne."
Bruce. Wayne.
Bruce *Wayne*?
Lex leaned in closer. "Here's a secret for you," she murmured into Loren's ear. Over his shoulder, she saw her mother watching them.
"Yeah?"
"He's already married. But you can't let anyone know. Hush-hush." That's what Bruce had told her, when she caught him in lie after lie. She didn't believe for a minute it was true--if only because she couldn't see Bruce getting that close to another human being.
Served him right having that rumor go around, though.
"Wow. Secretly married?"
"He can't announce it due to some conditions of his trust fund." Lex raised an eyebrow at him.
"It must be really awful," he said, "to be tied down like that--to have all that *control* over what you can do and can't do. Don't you just want to throw it away and scream?"
"Not really," Lex said. "The up side is that we get to be rich."
"Money is *meaningless*," he said, softly passionate.
Norman Potter owned the Talon movie theater and bar. He was one of the richest men in town. Lex let it go, though, and said only, "Porsches are sweet."
The song ended. Loren looked Lex in the eye. "Music is what matters. *Poetry.* Art matters. I hope you're not going to follow in your mother's footsteps--because you have more than that inside."
"Do I?"
"I can tell." It didn't *seem* like he was hitting on her. More that he was deadly earnest.
*
Clara took the dress over to the mansion in the morning. It just didn't look right in her closet.
Lex was curled up in her room with a stack of papers and the remains of breakfast. She wore black silk pajamas, with a purple-and-black embroidered robe over the top. She looked up and smiled as the butler showed Clara in.
"I'm here way too early," Clara said, standing nervously in the door.
"I wouldn't have let you in if I didn't want to see you. Coffee?"
"I'm good." Clara sat in the chair across from Lex. "Did you have fun at the party?"
"I had the most interesting conversation with Loren Lang. He's an odd boy. I see why you girls are all crazy for him," Lex said. "The big eyes, the soft voice."
Clara nodded, unable to keep from smiling.
"Not my type. I like someone sturdier."
[banter and foo]
Lex leaned back in her chair and stretched. "It's too early for either of us to be awake."
"Farm girl. Used to it," Clara said.
"Be idle rich for a morning, then," Lex said, and got up with her coffee. She smiled at Clara and climbed back into bed.
And Clara was pretty sure she knew an invitation when she heard one, so she followed. She took her boots off before getting in the other side.
"I'll keep the dress for you," Lex said, "but it's still your dress."
"I'm sorry. I don't want to be rude."
"You're not."
"I'm just not--I don't just--put it *out* there," Clara said, meaning *everything.* She didn't put anything out there. She kept everything inside. "You know?"
"I've noticed." Lex smiled at her, taking her hand.
*
Petra painted Kyle's nails purple with great concentration.
"I think I changed my mind," Kyle said.
"Dude! Shut up! Purple is manly." Petra blew on his nails.
"Purple is the opposite of manly."
"No, *pink* is the opposite of manly. Purple is K-State colors. People will think you're rooting for the team."
Kyle made a face. "Okay, that's worse."
"Fine! Do black again, see if I care." Petra shoved the tub of nail polish at him and tossed her braids out of her eyes.
"Why are you so cranky?"
"Because my dress got all muddy." She glared at the closet. "And it was a *great* dress."
"Yeah. It was," Kyle said sadly.
"It's *hard* to find petite dresses that don't suck. They're all for people who want to look *old.* But I'm sixteen and I have a great body! I want to show it off!" Petra shouted, jumping to her feet and bouncing up and down.
"Yeah, you do," Kyle said, resting his chin in his hands. "You looked completely awesome."
"Hey, you noticed." Petra grinned. Then she frowned. "Hey, Kyle. You noticed."
"You had a slinky white dress on. Of course I noticed."
"Since when did you notice anything except Clara's boobies?" Petra demanded. "You've been staring down her dress since the eighth grade."
"I have not!" Kyle blushed bright red.
"Only one hasn't noticed is *her*!"
"I don't stare!"
"Since when have you been staring at me?"
"I don't *stare*!" Kyle cried.
Petra stood over him, hands on her hips. She kicked his chair.
"Quit it!"
"You're some kind of dummy," Petra said, and kicked his chair again.
"What?"
"You're suppposed to try to kiss me, dummy."
"But you're kicking," Kyle said.
Petra pushed his chair away from the table and plopped down into his lap. "Don't mess up your nails," she said, and she kissed him.
Kissed him hard. "Okay," he said when she leaned back. He looked a little dizzy.
"When your nails are dry, you can try copping a feel," Petra said.
"I can? Will it work?" Seriously dizzy.
"Maybe," she said.
*