Chloe looked over in Philip’s direction. "Are you a pod person? Have you been possessed?" she asked in disbelief.

"What, now I’m not allowed to say nice things to you?" questioned Philip.

Chloe pulled her legs up to her chest and crossed her arms on top of them. "Sure, you’re allowed to say nice things to me, Philip."

Moments passed until Chloe added quietly, "What time should I be expecting your phone call tonight?"

"What?" Philip exclaimed.

"You know, the phone call where you beg me not to taint your precious reputation by letting anyone know that you deigned to associate with such a social outcast as myself."

Philip sat there stunned. He didn’t know what to say. He was sure that the only reason Chloe had even made the comment was because they were sitting in the dark – unable to see one another’s faces. It gave you a kind of anonymity to know that you were just a voice and no one could see you at all. Philip never envisioned Chloe making a statement where she sounded so hurt. The anger he could handle, but this made him feel terrible.

"Chloe, I…"

"Don’t. No excuses from you, Philip. I don’t want to hear them. I’m not interested. Surely you can find another cheerleader with an I.Q. of a tree mound that would be more than willing to hang on your every word."

Philip sighed and his shoulders slumped in defeat. "I should never have done that to you."

Chloe lifted her head up. "Gee, do you think?"

"How many more times today am I going to have to apologize to you?"

"Depends. How much longer today do you plan on acting like an ass?"

To Chloe’s surprise, Philip began to laugh. After a few moments his laughter subsided. "You know, I think you’re the first girl that’s ever said anything like that to me."

"With your personality, I’m sure I won’t be the last," retorted Chloe.

******

Brady and Shawn both sighed in disgust as Belle, yet again, yelled out "Gin!"

Brady stood up from the table. "There is only so much abuse my ego can take in one day. If you will excuse me, I’m going to find some musical-type battery-operated machine and try to tune your inane teenage banter out."

Belle practically glowed with the flush of trouncing Brady and Shawn over and over again. Shawn studied her. "That was nothing but luck, Belle."

"Luck? Did you need me to kick your butt again, Shawn? I’d be more than happy to let the humiliation continue," retorted Belle angrily.

Shawn had to suppress a laugh. Belle had no idea how sexy she was when she got angry. Shawn loved to tease her to see those blue eyes flash at him. He also loved having all of her attention focused solely on him.

"Whatever you say, Belle," Shawn replied.

Belle crossed her arms and glared at Shawn. No one could get under her skin the way that he could. Why did he insist on tormenting her all the time?

"Hey," asked Shawn suddenly, "Do you still have that sweatshirt that I loaned you last week?"

Belle tried to hide her disappointment. "Yes," she murmured, "It’s upstairs in my room."

Shawn stood up. "Then let’s go get it so that I don’t forget it again."

Belle also stood up and began walking upstairs to her room, with Shawn close behind. They walked into Belle’s room and Shawn’s sweatshirt was lying on the bed. Belle had been studying over at Shawn’s for their history exam, and had started shivering from what Shawn thought was the cold, but Belle knew was just her reaction to being so close to him for so long. He had lent her his favorite sweatshirt, and Belle had worn it to bed every night since then because it smelled like him. She refused to wash it for fear the scent would fade.

"Why is this on your bed?" Shawn asked.

"Oh, well, I uh, went and got it out of my drawer when you said you were coming over today," Belle offered weakly.

Shawn smiled at Belle. "I didn’t tell you I was coming over today, Belle." He walked closer to her to narrow the gap between them.

Too much Shawn! Belle’s mind screamed and she backed up into her dresser nervously. Upon doing so she knocked a few of her glass trinkets onto the desk next to her dresser and broke two of them.

"Dammit," Belle swore as she saw that they had been two of her favorites.

"What? Do my ears deceive me? Did you actually utter a profanity?" Shawn asked in mock horror.

Belle turned to look at Shawn.

Shawn continued, "You know what we do to little girls that swear, don’t you?" With his left hand he grabbed Belle’s wrist and with his right he threw it around her waist and heaved her up over his shoulder.

Belle started smacking Shawn’s back and kicking her feet. "Shawn Douglas Brady, you put me down this instant! What do you think you’re doing?"

Shawn proceeded to walk across Belle’s room and into her bathroom. "Sorry Belle. When perfect girls swear, we have to wash their mouths out with soap."

Shawn carried Belle into the bathroom and plopped her down into the sink. "Now where’s that soap?" he asked bemusedly.

Belle arched her back away from the water faucet that was digging into her back and threw her arms around Shawn to prevent herself from falling.

Shawn forgot all about the soap as his mind was suddenly in a haze where nothing but Belle existed. She was all he could see, all he could feel, all he could smell, all he could hear. He wondered erratically what she would taste like. Belle was pressed flush against him, and Shawn had to prevent the groan in his throat from surfacing. He just stood there, unable to move or react, afraid that if he did he would ruin the spell that encased them both.

Belle looked up at Shawn and noticed him swallowing hard and his ragged breathing. She could feel his heartbeat in his chest, and it was beating nearly as fast as her own. "Not so funny anymore, is it?" she breathed.

"No, not so funny," said Shawn, unsure of how he was even able to form any words. With one slightly shaky hand he reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Belle’s ear. So soft, he thought. Belle was so, so soft. Shawn wondered what it would be like to sink into that softness. He allowed his knuckles to graze down Belle’s neck and then put his hand where his knuckles had been to feel her skin. He was ready to press his lips where his hand was when Belle spoke.

"Shawn, are you going to the dance this Friday?" Belle queried softly.

"Um, yes," Shawn said, finding it hard to concentrate on speaking. He watched Belle’s lips and wanted them against his own. He studied them, as if to memorize their shape, their movement, their color, everything.

"Are you going alone?" Belle whispered.

Part of Shawn screamed, why doesn’t she stop talking? and Shawn mumbled, "No, I have a date." He technically hadn’t asked Chloe yet, but he was supposed to.

Belle leaned back and the spell was broken. She put her hands against Shawn’s chest and pushed. She jumped down from the sink and went back into her room. "I think you should go now," she whispered with her back to him, unable to look at him.

Shawn’s mind raced. What had just happened here? What did he say…oh no, the date.

"Belle, wait you don’t understand…" Shawn said as he reached out for her. Belle fled her room and went into her parent’s room and locked the door behind her. Shawn stood out in the hallway dumbly, not knowing what to say. He turned around to see Brady standing in his doorway, watching.

"Looks like you really screwed the pooch on that one, Shawn," Brady smirked.

"Tell Belle I’ll call her later. To check on her and to see what happened to Philip and Chloe," Shawn said quietly as he turned to leave.

******

Chloe didn’t know how long she and Philip had sat there quietly, not speaking. Chloe was tired of all their arguing, tired of having to constantly be on her toes around him. Maybe she could find something else to talk about.

"What was the last book you read?" she asked him.

The question caught Philip off-guard. "Book?"

"Yes, you know. Books. Like those things we have in school. You read them left to right, up and down, turn the page, that sort of thing," Chloe replied.

"Is this the beginning of a conversation here?" Philip asked.

"I was merely trying to ascertain if you could read," Chloe retorted.

"Yes," grunted Philip in his best caveman impersonation. "Philip can read."

"So, what was the last book you read?" she pressed.

"That one in English class, Steinway or something."

Chloe had to stifle the urge to laugh. "You mean Steinbeck?"

"Yeah, that’s the one," Philip said lamely.

"Huh," Chloe muttered. "You do know that a Steinway is a piano, right?"

"Oh, yeah," Philip nodded. "We have a few of those at home."

"A few?"

"Like three or four I think."

"Why would anyone need three or four Steinways?" Chloe wondered in astonishment.

"We have a lot of rooms at the mansion, Chloe. I guess they’re there to look nice."

Chloe shook her head in disgust at the thought of all those beautiful instruments going to waste – doing nothing but serving as decorations.

"What’s the last movie you saw?" Philip inquired of Chloe.

"Last movie?" Chloe asked, her mind still on the wasted Steinways.

"Yes you know, moving pictures across a big screen with sound. You sit quietly in a theater and watch it," Philip smiled.

Touche, thought Chloe. "I’m not a big movie-goer."

"Why not?"

"Kind of hard to see movies when you have no money and no parents that want to spend it for you to go."

Philip detected the note of sadness in Chloe’s voice.

"What was it like, Chloe?"

"What was what like?"

"The orphanage, the foster homes. What were they like?"

"Why? Why do you want to know?" Chloe asked sadly.

"I don’t know. I just want to know what it was like. I can’t begin to imagine."

"No, you can’t," Chloe said. "It was, I don’t know, sad. Lonely. Some places were harder than others."

Philip thought how surprised Chloe would be to know that he had so often felt the same way. Even in his home, supposedly surrounded by loving people, he felt sad and lonely.

"It’s hard to be some place where you think no one cares about you."

"I know," Philip replied.

"How would you know?" Chloe snapped.

"Do you think you corner the market on uncaring parents? Chloe, have you ever even seen my parents anywhere? They’re always too busy working or going to some function or flying off to Europe at a moment’s notice. I never see them. My brother Lucas spends all of his time drinking. My mother and he are always locked up in the study talking about my nephew Will’s mother – ‘Sami’ this and ‘Sami’ that. They’re too busy to be bothered with anything else. Least of all me."

Was there actually a chink in Philip’s armor? Chloe wondered. She couldn’t believe he was saying these things. Philip could hardly believe it himself.

"Well, at least they didn’t beat you," Chloe blurted out.

Philip stopped feeling sorry for himself. "Did they beat you, Chloe?" He felt an unfamiliar protective urge rising up inside him. For a second he thought he could kill anyone that would do that to Chloe.

"Only one. A lot more did it emotionally," Chloe began to cry.

"Chloe, did anyone ever…" Philip was unsure of how to phrase it.

"No," Chloe quickly sobbed. "I guess I should at least feel fortunate for that, right?"

Philip scooted over on the couch until he was right next to Chloe.

"What are you doing?"

"Shhh. Just stop talking for a minute. I’m going to hold you until you feel better."

And with that Philip put his arms around Chloe.