PART 1 -- The Fate of Brock
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Stacy squinted as she carefully applied polish to one of her toenails, her expression clenched with concentration. When her toenails were all finally a uniform light-purple, Stacy stuffed cotton balls between her toes and let out a soft sigh before helplessly looking around her parent's living room. The television was on a dry afternoon talk show and Stacy couldn't imagine being more bored.
"I need a hobby," she complained. Stacy rose from the couch and waddled towards her bedroom while trying to keep her toes elevated. After finding a short stack of comic books Brian had left behind (while they were dating), Stacy flopped down on her bed and began perusing through the pages.
"I just don't get those boys," Stacy said, continuing to talk out loud as if there were someone beside her. "Charlie and Brian can sit for hours reading these stupid things."
She quickly lost interest in the comic book and glanced about her room. Nothing grabbed Stacy's interest until her eyes fell upon her bedside table drawer. She stared at the closed drawer for a moment before sliding herself closer and opening it. After reaching inside, Stacy's eyes lit up at the eight-inch rubber vibrator she removed. She caressed the thing lovingly for a moment, laying on her tummy with her ankles bent and her freshly-painted toes wiggling in the air.
"I bet you could help me kill twenty minutes," Stacy said to her vibrator. "Although, if you occasionally tried some foreplay it might take us a whole half hour -"
"Um, who are you talking to?"
Stacy jumped at the voice in her bedroom doorway, "Oh my god! Charlie, you scared the shit out of me."
Charlie smiled and leaned against the door jamb, "Sorry. You must not have heard me over the conversation you were having."
Stacy blushed and dropped the sex toy back into her drawer, "Don't tease me. I'm going out of my mind with boredom, today. What are you doing here, anyway? Shouldn't you be at work?
Charlie lifted a shoulder, "I took the afternoon off."
Stacy gazed at Charlie; he looked so handsome in his tan cargo pants and a stylish grey polo shirt. His shock of brown hair was messy but stylish. "You did?"
Charlie nodded, staring right back.
Stacy swallowed nervously, "So, um... why did you come over here?"
"Because I can't stop thinking about you," Charlie answered. "I haven't been able to get you out of my head ever since that night you kissed me."
Still lying on her tummy, Stacy's mouth went dry at Charlie's words, "R-really?"
"Miley's out of town," Charlie added. "She'd never know."
"...Charlie..." Stacy breathed out his name. "We shouldn't. Miley's my best friend."
Charlie folded his arms across his slender chest. He looked confused, "Then why did you kiss me? I thought you liked me?"
"I do!" Stacy quickly got up, rising off the bed and to her feet. "You're my closest friend, other than Miley. I adore you, Charlie. You must know that."
"I want to make love to you," Charlie declared.
Stacy's breath caught in her throat. It was that very moment when she realized how badly she wanted Charlie in return. The feeling had always been there, in the back of her mind, but it was as though Stacy finally let herself admit it.
"I want you too," Stacy revealed with a quiet whisper. "I've wanted you all summer long, ever since you came back from Brown."
Charlie pushed away from the door and approached Stacy. She made no move to resist him when his arms enveloped her, nor did she complain when his lips fell upon hers. She felt herself falling backwards as Charlie lowered her to the bed...
~~~~~
Waking up with a start, Stacy sat straight up on her bed. A quick assessment showed that she was all alone. A comic book slid to the floor from her stirrings.
"Jeezus," Stacy cursed, putting a hand to her forehead. She realized she had fallen asleep on her bed after painting her toenails; the encounter with Charlie had only been a dream.
"You're not in love with Charlie," Stacy told herself, getting up from the bed.
"I am not in love with Charlie White," Stacy repeated, more firmly. "I can't be."
Walking into the bathroom, Stacy poured a half glass of water from the faucet and drank it down. "Get a hold of yourself," she said into the mirror, "you are not in love with your best friend's fiancé."
As Stacy stared at the determined expression found in her reflection, she almost started to believe her own words.
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"Brock!?" came Brian's stunned voice through Charlie's cell phone. "As in - the muscle-bound linebacker from high school? That Brock?"
"Yep," Charlie confirmed as he carefully packed clothes into a box. His cell phone rested on his bed, set on speaker so he could have his hands free while talking to Brian. "I had to make a statement at the police station this morning before work. They gave me my wallet back, which they found in his car."
"Unbelievable. I guess he graduated from 'Class Bully' to 'Town Mugger'."
"Yeah," Charlie agreed as he moved to fetch more clothes from his dresser. "And to think, after graduation I remember being glad I'd never have to deal with his shit again."
"What's going to happen to him?" Brian wondered.
"The police said he's looking at two to five years on the assault and robbery charges, but they think they can link him to some other muggings as well. I'm guessing he's in deep shit."
"Serves him right," Brian sounded pleased by the notion of Brock in prison. "He should get two-to-five just for all the wedgies he gave me when we were freshman."
Charlie folded a shirt, "Do you remember that time when he held Fred Neidermeyer head-first into the toilet?"
"Of course," Brian's voice replied. "Brock kept flushing, which was the only time poor Fred could breathe. I'll never forget the sound of him gasping for air as the toilet bowl slowly filled back up; that memory still haunts me at night."
Charlie paused his packing activities, "Whatever happened to Fred?"
"He drowned our junior year, in Lake Charles. Don't you remember?"
"Oh yeah," Charlie recalled. "I never realized the irony, before..."
"So what are you up to tonight?" Brian interrupted Charlie's thoughts. "You want to go see the new Blue Beetle movie?"
"Are you kidding?" Charlie scoffed, "That looks as terrible. I mean, Nicolas Cage as the Blue Beetle? I just don't see it."
"Yeah," Brian sounded in agreement. "But it's either that or some female-comedy about five alcoholic nurses."
Charlie shuddered, "Miley keeps bringing that one up like she wants to see it. I keep hoping she goes with Stacy."
"You want to just go hang out at the mall or something? I'm bored."
"Can I get a rain check? I'm packing up a carload of stuff to take over to the apartment tonight."
"You're finally moving in with Miley, huh?"
"Yeah," Charlie smiled, happy about moving into Miley's near-campus apartment. "It feels like we've been planning it forever, but when I got mugged it put everything on hold."
"Do you need a hand?" Brian offered.
"Nah, I just have some boxes of clothes and a toothbrush. Nothing major."
"All right, dude. Hey, don't forget, this weekend we need to go make the arrangements on that apartment Sam picked. Get the keys and stuff."
