Carole appeared in a few minutes, and Bert had to restrain himself. She was dazzling. Her very radiance brightened the room immensely. She had obviously dressed to impress him to the utmost. The turquoise dress seemed to float about her body, clinging here, flowing there. All the heres and theres were strategically placed for the maximum effect on any red blooded male.
The dcolletage of the dress was as improbable as it was heart wrenching. The sharp V notch of the neckline plunged far down past the bottom of Carole's compact melon-sized jugs. Umbra danced and masked vital portions of her partially exposed breasts in a cunningly designed fashion. Bert allowed a slight smile to creep across his lips as he said, "Good evening, Carole. Ready to go or do you need a few more minutes to get dressed?"
The teenager started to duck as Carole picked up her purse. He was certain she would fling it at him in rage at his implied insult. Bert was in luck. By the time the girl spun back around to face him, her face had fallen into a wooden mask that smiled mechanically.
I'm ready. Let's go." Ice dribbled from her every word.
Bert carefully studied her anew. The hemline of her dress was perfect for what he had in mind for the main event later in the evening. It came to mid-thigh. The photographer hitched up his pants and thanked his lucky stars that Carole had not chosen to wear stockings. That would have complicated things to the point of idiocy on his part.
Who knew? It might be nothing but stupidity that he planned. But only time would tell.
"I want to say good-bye to your mother." Bert turned his back on Carole and went into the kitchen where Robin was stuffing the dinner dishes into the dishwasher.
"I just wanted to tell you, Mrs. van der Hoff, that I'll have Carole back before midnight. Well be at the school dance-it's in the gym-and well probably go to Dan's Den for a hamburger afterwards."
Robin's lips compressed into a tight line. "I don't know what game you're playing, Bert, but you'd better watch yourself. I'll see you burn in Hell if you…
"Good night, Mrs. van der Hoff," he said, cutting off her low voiced tirade.
Bert returned to the fuming Carole and said, "Let's go now. I wanted your mother to know where we'd be."
As they walked to the car, Carole asked, a note of curiosity creeping into her soft voice, "And what did you tell her?"
"I told her you wanted to fuck me, and we'd be going to a motel. What did you expect me to tell her?" Bert slammed the door behind Carole with a trifle more force than necessary to close the car door.
He went around and got in behind the wheel. He keyed the car to life and took off.
"Did you really tell Mom that?"
"You know I didn't since you were listening. Don't be more dense than you have to be. 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 by 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 was not kidding. His tone and face said that he was dead serious.
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 thought was a bit ludicrous, and she was silently amused. But Bert Ellis was definitely not her type, not the way he'd been treating her so far. It was as if she were… beneath his notice!
She, Carole van der Hoff, man killer, was being ignored as if she simply wasn't 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 his that she didn't know. He even introduced her to Cruncher. .. and this is Carole. I suppose you two already know each other, though. Both of you are out there on the football field. Not at the same time, of course or even doing the same things." The way Bert put it, Cruncher and Carole were both out on the line plowing through the defense of the rival team.
Carole didn't know whether to be insulted or not Was Bert merely being tongue-tied and obtuse? Yet it didn't sound like it.
She decided to turn her charms on full blast and let 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 all over our quarterback."
"Well, sometimes I play 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 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 multitudinous 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 suavity, 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 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 hamburger joint early, it won't be as crowded."