"Did you really tell Mom that?"
"You know I didn't since you were listening through the door! Don't try to be coy or more dense than you have be, OK? I just want to have a good time tonight, and you asking silly questions isn't going to make it."
Carole promptly crumpled in the seat, clutching at the door handle as if she planned to leap out at the next street light. She retreated into a shell of silence and uttered not a single word until they arrived at the high school gym.
They passed be the hideous statue of Walter Williams, after whom the school had been named. Carole idly remarked, "I wonder why they cast him with his mouth open like that?"
Bert snorted. "He probably wouldn't stop screaming when they poured the bronze around him."
Carole spun in amazement, her mouth half open in surprise. She quickly clamped it shut when she saw Bert didn't appear to be kidding. His tone and face said that he was dead serious. His mouth had a slight smile.
She shivered slightly although the evening was still and warm. What kind of a warpo had she mistakenly allowed to have a date with her? In spite of herself, however, the thougth was a bit ludicrous, and she was silently amused. But Bert Ellis was definitely not her type, not the way he had been treating her so far. It was as if she were…beneath his notice!
She, Carole van der Hoff, head cheerleader, most popular girl in school, man killer, was being ignored as if she simply was not important. She'd show that stupid bastard what it meant to be with a real woman!
Bert, when he was in plain view of anyone else, was the perfect gentleman. He opened the door for Carole, made the rounds introducing her to various friends of her that she didn't know. He even introduced her to Cruncher.
"…and this is Carole. I suppose you two already know each other…since Crucher told me so much about you. After all, you two do see each other all the time..on the field…so to speak."
Carole didn't know whether to be insulted or not. Was Bert merely being tongue-tied and obtuse? Was he implying that she knew this neanderthal football player intimately?
She decided she would turn the tables on him, turn on her charms full blast and let this Cruncher be the lucky recipient. "I've always admired the way you just smash right on through and take out all those big guys intent on running over the quarterback."
"Well, sometimes I play the defensive line, too. I sort of enjoy being the one to dump the quarterback."
"Oh, that's marvelous!" Carole squealed in glee, almost to the point of jumping up and down and clapping her hands in cheerleader fashion.
Bert took her elbow and maneuvered her away before she realized what was happening. "Over here is the school paper's editor. You know Alana, I guess. You cheerleader types seem to know everyone."
Alana's reception was markedly different from Cruncher's. The big tackle had been turning on the charm as much as Carole had been. Carole was met with pure, unadulterated hatred here. And Bert seemed intent on lingering, making lewd innuendoes with this black bitch and talking about trivial matters.
The band blared out its first song, but still Bert talked on with Alana. Just as Cruncher started over, his intent obvious, Bert grabbed Carole by the arm and guided her out to the dance floor. "Enough talk for now. Let's dance."
The girl couldn't get into the flow of the music, and her movements were those of a poorly coordinated marionette. Bert flowed and glided with easy grace. Soon, Carole was beginning to feel completely out of synch with everything going on around her, a new and disquieting feeling. She normally dug these dances. They gave her a chance to flaunt her multitudimous charms, bedazzle male onlookers and generally have a fine time.
Tonight, nothing was going right. Her dancing, normally sinuous and vaguely lewd and suggestive, was clumsy. It was Bert who shone, who had the envious eyes of both sexes on him.
Carole didn't understand that. Not completely. The male admirers were to be expected. He had a date with her. But the feminine attraction to this zilch of a photographer was inexplicable. Carole wracked her brain and failed to find the answer. He treated her like dirt. Polite, well mannered, but disinterested. And yet all the other girls cast envious eyes on him.
There was a suaveness, an assured air about him that seemed preternaturally embodied in his actions. Carole was both attracted and repulsed. She couldn't decide if she hated him or not.
"Bert, let's leave here and get something to eat. I'm feeling hungry." She wasn't the least bit famished, but it was an excuse to allow her to escape from the myriad of eyes focused on them. She had long ago learned that, in the middle of an embarrassing situation, it paid to cut it as short as possible. Leaving now was the best thing she could do.
She was half-afraid Bert would refuse to leave. He surprised her when he rapidly assented. "Okay, let's go on out to the car. And if we get to the hambuger joint early, it won't be crowded."
Carole breathed a sigh of relief as they left the gym. The cool night air quickly evaporated some of the sweat that had trickled down the deep crevice of her bosom and made her feel uncomfortable. Outside, alone, she decided she might be able to turn the tables on her escort. Using tricks she had long since perfected might just make Bert Ellis as uncomfortable as he had made her all night long.
She moved closer to the boy, took his arm and hung on like a drowning person gripping a life preserver. "Bert," she cooed, "do we really have to go and get something to eat first? I'd rather just drive around. Maybe we could… park and…look at the lights." Her voice was low and seductive. And when Carole tried, she could be very seductive.
Bert turned to her and put both arms around her, looked down into her icy blue eyes and softly responded, "You don't want anything to eat? What a pity." Bert's next movement was lightning fast. His arms still encircled her, but his hands flashed underneath her skirt, found the elastic band of her panties and quickly pulled them down her slender legs.
It took an instant for the girl to realize the liberty he was taking with her. Carole tried to kick him. That was a mistake. It allowed Bert to slip the blue silk panties off one foot, then the other. He stood, holding the telltale underwear just beyond her grasp.
"Dammit, give me those back!" she cried.
Bert kept his voice low. "I wouldn't want to cause a scene if I were you. If you scream, you'll have a lot of people out here. And then you'd have to explain to all of them how I just happened to get your panties and…stuff them into my pants pocket." He tucked the last tiny slip of the silk into his front pocket. "They'd be asking you questions, not me."
The blonde's mind furiously raced. Bert was right, damn him! He had treated her politely in front of the others; it was she who had the reputation for putting men into embaressing situations. Who'd believe that he had managed to get her undies off so slickly?
A trembling note crept into her voice. "What do you want?" She was truely fightened now. There was no limit to what she would do to get those panties back.
"Let's go get something to eat. Dan's Den is as good as any." Bert turned to go to his car.
Incensed, in spite of herself, Carole indignantly exclaimed, "Is that all!" She couldn't believe her ears.
"That's all. Let's go."
At the restaurant, Bert insisted on going inside to eat. Carole refused to sit next to her date and steadfastly dropped into the seat opposite Bert's. He smiled broadly as if expecting her to do exactly as she had done. That elusive smile made Carole feel funny inside, like she'd made a mistake and didn't know exactly what it was.
Bert ordered and sat talking about inconsequential things. School, teachers, even the weather. All the time, he intently watched her. Carole knew what was going through his mind. He knew she didn't have any panties on and that damned short skirt dress kept riding up due to the smooth vinyl seat.
The blonde wiggled to arrange her dress so that it would not hike up and expose her nakedness. The more she squirmed, the more Bert smiled. Carole was rapidly becoming furious with him. Bert Ellis was toying with her, making her jump through hoops whenever he snapped his fingers, and she did not like it. Not one bit.