Dangerously Alice Read online

  “This is really a knockout, Alice!” she said. “I don’t know if we ought to let Ben see you in this or not. He might forbid you to leave the house!”

  We laughed together then, but somehow her laugh seemed forced, and I wondered if she felt the same way about mine.

  I was ready before Tony got there. He was late, in fact, and that made me feel a little strange. Then I realized he probably didn’t want to have to spend any more time than necessary in the same room with my parents. I noticed the relief on his face when I answered the door.

  “Come in and let Sylvia take a picture,” I said.

  Tony was wearing a black tux with a red ruffled shirt. I’d never seen anything like it. He looked like a bullfighter or a flamenco dancer or something, but with his tux and my dress, the red made a nice contrast.

  And then we were out the door, and Dad was calling from the porch, “Take good care of her, Tony.” And I could not believe that he added, “Drive with both hands on the wheel.” Talk about embarrassing! I’ll bet even Dad was embarrassed after he said it.

  Tony started the car, then slid one hand over to my knee and laughed. “Now, where else did he think I’d put my hand?” I laughed too and let him keep it there.

  Pamela was in a salmon-colored satin gown and black stiletto heels. It had thin spaghetti straps and was cut low in front. If she leaned over too far, I swear she would have popped right out of the dress. Tim, her date, was in a midnight blue tux and smelled of aftershave.

  I felt very adult and sexy as the Buick glided along the streets, and a singer’s sultry voice came over the speakers. There was no snow yet. There rarely is this early in Maryland. None that sticks, anyway.

  “I wonder why they hold the Snow Ball so early if it never snows?” said Tim. “Why don’t they wait till January?”

  “Maybe it’s like some primitive ritual,” I suggested. “Like a rain dance. If we put on costumes and perform a dance, it’ll snow.”

  “Hey, you ought to write a story about that for The Edge,” Tony said.

  We had reservations at an upscale Thai restaurant in Bethesda, and I think we were about the two most attractive couples there. Everyone was looking at us and smiling, and I thought how great it was to be sitting in a room full of adults, being served like adults, Tony and Tim paying with credit cards like anyone else. Then it was on to the dance.

  The entrance to the gym was just as I’d heard it was going to be: Couples entered one at a time through a Styrofoam cave—something like an igloo—with fake icicles hanging down around them, and stepped out onto the gym floor with swirling, snowflake-shaped strobe lights flashing across the floor and the roof of the gym.

  Tony checked my jacket—Sylvia’s, actually—then whirled me out onto the dance floor. He held me so close, I felt like we were a grilled cheese sandwich. But I liked the scent of his cologne. Liked his firm grip. Liked that at last I was wearing the shoes I couldn’t wear to Georgetown last Tuesday. Liked that being in Tony’s arms helped make up for not meeting new guys from St. John’s.

  Then we were cheek to cheek during a slow number, and Tony whispered, “Oh, baby …” in my ear. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the throb of the music, the beat of the drum.

  When the band took its first break, Pamela and I went to the girls’ locker room, where girls had gathered to repair their hair and discuss their dates.

  “Oh, man!” Pamela said. “You two looked hot in more ways than one. And this was only the first set!”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “The way you guys were dancing. If you don’t have the hots, he sure does.”

  I brushed it off. “It’s a dance! What do you expect?” I said.

  Jill and Karen were there looking fabulous, as usual, and I think Jill was surprised to see me in a black halter-top dress.

  “Something of Sylvia’s?” she asked innocently.

  “No,” I said. “I bought it.”

  Karen looked me over quizzically. “I could swear my aunt had a dress just like that. I know she did! Same size and everything, but I think she gave it away.”

  “Imagine that,” I said, and moved off. I wouldn’t let anything ruin my evening.

  Couples were still arriving when we went back upstairs, and just as the band started up again, someone else came through the ice cave and stood staring at the couples merging onto the dance floor.

  It was Amy Sheldon, and she was alone.

  10

  In the Buick

  “Well, look what the wind blew in,” Tony said.

  We could have danced together or apart on the next number, and Tony chose together. I could see Amy over his shoulder, standing at the entrance in a pale green dress with a voluminous ruffled skirt.

  “Looks like a head of lettuce,” said Tony. “She is one weird girl.”

  “Just a little slow,” I commented.

  We were swallowed up by the other dancers, and I couldn’t see her anymore. We danced past Jill, her arms around Justin’s neck; past Lori and Leslie, both wearing white tuxedos; past Karen and her date; everybody looking more glamorous than we’d ever seen them in school. Then I caught another glimpse of Amy, looking a little dismayed, talking with one of the teacher chaperones.

  The next number had a South American beat, and the teachers who had been standing on the sidelines before now moved slowly, unobtrusively, around the edge of the dance floor. Tony chuckled. We knew what they were looking for—“grinding,” which the principal had already announced would not be permitted: couples thrusting their pelvises together front to front or back to front. One girl tested the limits by turning her back to her partner and bending over slightly, but it was a fun dance and the band was great.

  “Hey, Tony! Nice shirt, man!” said Mark Stedmeister, who was there with Penny.

  Pamela caught my arm at one point and told me that one of the thin straps on her gown had snapped loose, so the next time the band took a break, we went to the locker room again, where teachers had put out a supply of safety pins and tampons and Band-Aids.

  As we entered the restroom, we saw a small crowd of girls at one end, all gathered around a girl in the middle. I felt my throat tighten when I saw it was Amy.

  “Where did you get that beautiful dress?” one girl gushed as the others stifled their laughter.

  “It’s so … so springlike!” said someone else. Amy was smiling back, glowing with their attention.

  “With all those ruffles, doesn’t she look like a … a Christmas tree?” said the first girl.

  “More like a cupcake,” said another, and now some of the girls were giggling openly, but Amy didn’t get it and smiled even more broadly.

  “Let me pin that strap for you, and then I’m going over to rescue her,” I murmured to Pamela as the girls chattered on.

  We found the pins, and I slipped my fingers down the back of Pamela’s dress to fasten the end of the strap in place.

  “You’re going to have to be careful not to make any quick movements, or it might come undone,” I said. “I doubt the pin will hold all night.”

  “The dress is so tight, I think it could stay up by itself,” said Pamela.

  I glanced at her breasts bulging out over the top. “I wouldn’t count on it,” I said.

  When the strap was secure, I turned to find Amy and saw that she was going back up the stairs to the gym, the gaggle of girls following at her heels. Then my eye caught a long trail of white fluttering down the back of her dress, and suddenly I picked up the hem of my skirt and ran after them.

  On ahead, I saw that, on the long trail of toilet paper pinned to the back of Amy’s dress, someone had printed in black eyebrow liner, DON’T I LOOK STUPID?

  Just as Amy reached the floor above, I pushed through the crowd and grabbed her shoulder.

  “I think your tag is showing,” I said, stopping her. “Here. Let me fix that for you.”

  Amy smiled and dutifully stopped as the other girls cast sullen smiles at me and went on b
y.

  “Spoilsport,” one of them murmured.

  I crumpled the paper up and threw it in one corner, but Amy was blissfully unaware.

  “Gosh, Alice, you look so pretty!” she said. “Who’d you come with?”

  “Tony,” I said. “Tony Osler.”

  “Oh,” said Amy. “Well, I didn’t know you were supposed to come with a date. I thought there would be lots of singles here, like at proms and stuff.”

  “Well, there’s no rule against it,” I said. “Who drove you?”

  “My dad. He’s coming back at eleven to get me.” She sighed and looked at the big gym clock. “That’s a whole hour from now.”

  We moved around the line of couples waiting to have their pictures taken.

  “Alice,” she said suddenly, “would you be my partner for the photo? Dad gave me the money.” She opened the ruffled matching purse in her hand and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill.

  “But … I …,” I began awkwardly.

  “Please?” said Amy. “If I’m all by myself, it won’t look so good. We don’t have to hold hands or anything.”

  I saw Tony coming toward me, motioning for me to get in line for the photo.

  “All right,” I said to Amy. “Stand behind us, and after Tony and I have our picture taken, I’ll go up there with you.”

  “Thanks!” she said. And then, to Tony, “Hello, handsome!”

  Tony rolled his eyes and moved over beside me, then groaned when he realized Amy got in line behind us.

  “It’s a beautiful gym, isn’t it?” she babbled on. “The decorations almost make you feel cold! I mean, when I came through that igloo, I had to touch the icicles to see if they were real.”

  Tony put his arm around me and turned me toward the front of the line, but Amy went right on talking: “I like your dress, Alice. It’s really sexy. Isn’t she sexy, Tony? I don’t think I look sexy, but I think I’m pretty in this dress. It was my aunt’s. I think it was a bridal dress. No, maybe a bridesmaid’s. Always a bridesmaid, never a bride. That’s what they say.”

  We watched Jill and Justin stand before the sparkly background of snow and ice, Jill looking like a movie star, her slim waist accented by the silver lamé dress she was wearing. Justin had started wearing a small goatee, and they looked so grown up.

  When it was our turn, Amy called out, “Next! Step right up and get your picture taken, Mr. and Mrs. Tony Osler!”

  I felt my face turn crimson. Tony turned to Amy and said, “Put a clamp on it, will you?” We stepped up on the low stage and posed in front of the snow scene, but I could tell that my face would show up orange-red in the picture. I wanted to wait till my face had cooled, but it was too late. The photographer was already positioning our shoulders just so.

  When we were finished, Tony started to lead me away, but Amy stepped up on the platform.

  “Just a minute,” I said to Tony. “I promised Amy …” I could barely face the camera, I was so embarrassed. The other couples stared.

  “What the …?” Tony said.

  The photographer looked confused.

  “Just take it,” I told him, my face redder still.

  “O-kay!” he said, putting us shoulder to shoulder. I heard giggles from some of the girls. “Looks good to me!” said the photographer. “Hold it right there.”

  “Thank you, Alice,” Amy said as she followed me off the platform, but all I wanted to do was get away, and Tony obliged by sweeping me out onto the dance floor and into the crowd.

  “That’s enough of that,” he said.

  I put my cheek against his and didn’t look for Amy again.

  • • •

  Tony wanted to leave early and go to a party at a friend’s house, but I’d promised Dad I’d tell him if we went anywhere else, and I knew he’d give me the third degree. Would probably want to talk to the friend’s parents. It just wasn’t worth it. I told Tony I couldn’t. I could tell he was disappointed, but he was a gentleman about it, and we stayed almost to the end of the evening, leaving a little before midnight.

  I had a one o’clock curfew for the night, but Pamela’s was twelve thirty, so we headed straight for her house. Tony parked beyond it so that she and Tim wouldn’t have an audience when they said good night. As though they hadn’t been saying and kissing good night in the backseat for the last twenty minutes.

  Once we dropped off Tim at his house, however, Tony said, “We still have a half hour left,” and parked beside a soccer field. The LeSabre had a bench seat in front with controls on the steering column. Tony pushed a button, and the front seat slid noiselessly back six inches. He kept the CD player on as well as the heater. I lay back in Tony’s arms with my legs curled up on the seat.

  “You smell good,” he said.

  “So do you. I think you’re wearing my brother’s favorite men’s cologne,” I told him.

  He kissed me, one hand slipping under my wrap and around to my bare back, caressing my skin. “I’ve liked you ever since you joined the newspaper,” he said. “Jealous as hell of Sam when you were going out with him. Didn’t work out, huh?”

  “Sam’s a nice guy,” I said simply.

  “But …?”

  “He’s a nice guy,” I repeated, laughing a little. I wasn’t about to trash-talk Sam or any other boy.

  “Okay,” said Tony. We kissed again. He was an excellent kisser—slow and gentle at first, then harder and more urgent as he hugged me tighter. … I nestled my face against his neck, letting scenes from the evening play back in my mind. The way Jill had looked at me in the halter-top dress, as though Miss Goody Two-shoes had finally managed to surprise her. The remark Karen had made about her aunt giving away a dress just like mine. The embarrassment I’d felt standing beside Amy to have our picture taken.

  Well, right now MGT was sitting—lying—in a Buick LeSabre with a senior in a tux, who was gently caressing my right breast through the material. I felt the tingle of excitement each time his finger approached my nipple, withdrew, touched it, withdrew. …

  I drew a sharp breath and felt the muscles of his face draw into a smile.

  “Like that?” he asked, doing it again.

  I didn’t answer; just let him do it some more. He reached behind my neck and undid the fastener of the halter top. Then he slowly pulled it down, exposing my strapless bra. Just as slowly, he undid the bra and let it drop on the floor. I was lying in his arms with my bare breasts looking up at him, and he leaned down and kissed them.

  It was exciting and a little scary to feel the wetness in my pants, my nipples tightening and standing up straight, as if they were begging for more. I drew in my breath again when his hand explored my thigh—investigating the long slit in my dress, tickling me gently behind one knee as the music played on.

  “Oh, baby,” he breathed in my ear. I wished he would think of something else to call me but “baby,” but I liked the urgency in his voice. Then his hand was under my dress, moving up my thigh to my panty line. I knew it was almost one o’clock, and I gently took his hand and pulled it away.

  “I’ve got to get home,” I whispered, and we kissed—a hard, almost biting kiss from Tony. I reached down for my bra, my arm crossing his lap, and I could feel the hardness inside his trousers. He fastened my bra for me and hooked the closure on the halter top.

  We slid the car seat forward again, and Tony turned the key in the ignition. But when we got to my house, he smiled and said, “I think I’d better not get out in case your dad waits up. You know …” He motioned to the front of his pants.

  “Okay,” I said, and smiled at him. “’Night, Tony. It was a great evening. Thanks.”

  “’Night, baby,” he said. “Next time …!”

  Dad had left the lamp on in the hallway, but otherwise, the living room was dark. I took off Sylvia’s wrap and hung it in the closet.

  A minute later I heard soft footsteps on the floor above. Dad appeared at the top of the stairs in his pajamas. “You back, honey?”

  “Ye
ah,” I said.

  “Anybody with you?”

  “No. Tony’s gone on home,” I answered.

  “Have a good time?”

  “Yeah, we did. I’ll tell you about it in the morning,” I said.

  “Okay. Now that you’re safely home, I can go to sleep,” he said.

  “G’night,” I called.

  My body still felt flushed and excited. I picked up the hem of my skirt and went quietly upstairs, then slipped the dress up over my head and hung it in the closet. My bra came off … my shoes … my underwear. … I crawled into bed and relived the scenes in the car. Tony’s arm around me … his finger on my nipple … up my thigh to my panty line. …

  My own fingers caressed my breasts under the blanket. Then my stomach, then between my legs, and finally I finished what Tony had begun in the car.

  As my breathing returned to normal, I gradually opened my eyes to the darkness of my room—the shadows cast by the streetlight. I wasn’t such a Miss Goody Two-shoes anymore. It had been exciting being in the car with Tony, letting unfamiliar hands explore me. I shivered again just thinking about it. Next time …

  11

  Edgar’s

  I rode in with Dad the next morning to my part-time job at the Melody Inn and decided to tell him as much as I cared to about the dance before he had a chance to ask. If he had to prod things out of me, he’d figure there was more beneath the surface, which, of course, there was.

  “The gym was all shimmery with glitter, just like a mountain snow scene,” I said, “and the band was great.”

  “You went to a restaurant first?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Thai. One in Bethesda. It was really good,” I said.

  “And … after the dance?”

  “Well, we stayed almost to the end, the music was that good. Then we dropped off Pamela and her date, and Tony brought me home,” I said.

  Dad turned at the corner of Georgia Avenue and drove another block before he asked, “You didn’t invite Tony to come in?”