“I figured it’s too cold for a skirt.”

“That’s okay.” He was silent for a moment. Then he said, “Are you wearing it?”

“Wearing what?”

“You know.”

Lane grinned. “Aren’t you the guy who can spot that sort of thing a mile away?”

“Yeah. But the sweater.” He reached out. His hand curled around the back of Lane’s neck. She scooted across the seat, turned to Jim, kissed him. The hand on her neck slid upward, fingers pushing into her hair and easing her head forward, pressing her lips harder against his open mouth. His other hand closed on her right breast. “Yeah,” he said into her mouth.

“Happy?”

“Yeah.”

It was nothing like the gentle, accidental touch of Mr. Kramer’s hand. Jim rubbed her breast hard through the sweater and blouse. His tongue thrust into her mouth. He squeezed her nipple. The pain made her squirm. She forced his hand away and freed her mouth.

“That’s enough,” she whispered. “Come on. We’ve got to pick up the others.”

“Yeah, okay. Shit.”

“You promised to be nice,” she reminded him.

“I know. Just watch. I’ll be great. I love you so much, Lane.”

“Or at least my boobs, huh?”

A mean thing to say, she realized. Jim couldn’t help it if they turned him into a sex maniac. After all, she thought, he’s just a horny teenager.

“I love everything about you,” he said, not sounding offended by her remark. “And I’d like to kiss you everywhere.”

“Oh, man. Cool off, huh?”

“I’m cool, I’m cool,” he said, and started the car.

Lane scooted across the seat and fastened her safety harness. As he drove, she gave him directions to Betty’s house. “Henry’ll be there, too,” she added.

“I can hardly wait.”

“You promised.”

“I’m a man of my word,” he said. “Do we have to sit with them at the movies?”

“Yep.”

“God, the things I do for you.”

“I’m worth it, right?”

“You know it.” He reached over and squeezed her thigh. His hand stayed there, rubbing her through the denim. It felt good. But when he moved it higher, she guided the hand down to her knee.

“Behave,” she said. “And make a left.”

He made the turn onto Betty’s street, and Lane saw her two friends standing together in front of the mobile home.

“Here goes nothing,” Jim muttered. He stopped.

Lane twisted around in her seat and unlocked the back door for them. “Greetings, good folks,” Henry said as he scurried in. “James, Lane. Sounds like a picturesque London Road. James Lane.”

“Hiya, guys,” Betty said, squeezing into the car.

“Hello,” Jim said. He sounded pleasant enough.

“How’s it going?” Lane asked, looking back at them.

“We’re fine,” Betty said. “What about you?”

“Great.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” she insisted.

“Why wouldn’t she be?” Jim asked, sounding a little annoyed as he made a U-turn.

“Oh, I don’t know. Unless maybe it has a tad to do with a certain Riley Benson.”

Lane felt her skin go hot.

“What about Benson?” Jim asked.

“Oh, nothing. Just that he jerked Lane out of her seat in English class today and hocked on her face.”

“What?” Jim blurted.

“Christ, Betty.”

“That’s what Heidi told me, and she was there.”

“Did he really spit on you?” Henry asked. He sounded concerned.

“Yeah.”

“Benson spit on you?”

“It’s no big deal,” Lane said. She had realized everyone would find out about it, sooner or later. But she wished it hadn’t happened this soon.

“I’ll kill the cocksucker!”

“I’ll help,” Henry said.

“Mr. Kramer already punched him out,” Lane explained. “And he’s being sent to Pratt.”

“I’llsend the fucker to Hell.”

“Take it easy, Jim. Okay? My God, his girlfriend was just murdered. He’s having a tough time.”

“It’ll get a lot tougher...”

“It’s no reason to take it out on you,” Henry told her. “That guy’s such a rectum. He always has been.”

“That’s right,” Betty said. “He was a shit chute long before Jessica got her ticket canceled.”

“Look,” Lane said, “I’m the one he messed with. I’d like to just forget about it, all right? It’s over. It’s finished. Now, why don’t we talk about something else and enjoy ourselves?”

“I’m gonna kill him,” Jim said.

“Shut up about it!” Lane snapped.

He did.

There was a long silence.

Finally Lane said, “I guess I’m lucky to have friends like you guys. I don’t want anyone trying to nail Riley Benson because of me, but it’s nice to know you care enough to be pissed at him.”

“I’ll piss onhim,” Jim said.

“Hey!”

“Okay, okay, I won’t.”

“Besides,” Henry put in, “Benson would probably enjoy it. He’d be right in his element.”

“Hen,” Jim said, “I’m starting to like you.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

“The jock and the nerd,” Betty said. “What a pair.”

“You got a nifty pair yourself there,” Henry said, and Betty squealed as he did something to her.

Jim glanced back and grinned.

“Keep your eyes on the road,” Lane warned.

Betty cried out, “Don’t you!.. Ow!”

“Oh, that didn’t hurt.”

“Did, too.”

“But this might.”

“Don’t you dare!” She shrieked, then giggled.

“Are we having fun yet?”

“No! Yes! No, stopthat!”

“Hope they don’t act like this in the movies,” Lane said. “They’ll get us all kicked out.”

“Oh, I’ll be a model of decorum,” Henry assured her.

Betty yelped. It was followed by a smack, and Henry said, “Ow! You didn’t have to slug me.”

“Want another one, four-eyes?”

Jim looked at Lane and shook his head.

It was Henry’s idea that they sit in the last row of the movie theater. “That way,” he explained, “you don’t have to worry about who’s behind you.”

“The dink won’t sit anywhere else,” Betty said, following Lane into the row. As they sat down she added, “He’s paranoid.”

Leaning forward, Henry looked past Betty and said, “Did you read Curtains?”

“Dad’s book? Yeah.”

“Remember he had that lunatic sitting behind people in the movies and slashing their throats? Makes a person think, you know?”

“Makes methink you shouldn’t read that kind of book,” Lane told him.

“Better a wall at your back than a stranger. You just never know. Until it’s too late.”

“Spare me,” Betty muttered.

“I may be sparing us all. You’ll thank me for it when nobody rips open your jugular.”

The theater darkened and Previews of Coming Attractions started. “Want some?” Betty whispered, lifting her tub of popcorn toward Lane.

“No thanks.” Though it smelled good, the popcorn would make her thirsty and she had no drink. She and Jim had decided to wait for the intermission before getting snacks.

Jim stretched an arm across her shoulders. As he caressed her upper arm, she leaned closer to him. He tried to push his hand under her arm, but she pressed it tight against her side. “No funny stuff,” she whispered, “or I’ll trade places with Betty.”

“Anything but that,” he said. He brushed his lips against the side of her forehead, then turned his face toward the screen.

About ten minutes into the feature attraction, he stopped stroking Lane’s arm. The film was Night Hunt, about a young woman being stalked through the woods by a heavily armed killer. Jim seemed engrossed by it. The heroine was beautiful and running around in torn clothes. Lane suspected that had something to do with grabbing his attention. But the suspense was terrific. Soon Jim took his arm away and sat up straight. As Lane shifted in her seat, she noticed that Betty had stopped eating, though her tub of popcorn was still half full. She glanced past Betty at Henry. The boy’s eyes were fixed on the screen, the lenses of his glasses reflecting the light. Betty gasped, and Lane jerked her eyes back to the film.

It seemed to be over very fast. When the lights came up, Jim gave her a look as if he’d been blown away.