D-Cup Blues

"I don't care," Caryn said. "That's kind of how this got started for me anyway. My mom was wondering, and now I am, too, did you ever think it was weird having a guy in our gang?"

"What do you mean?" Audrey asked. "It's not like we all start talking about our periods the minute he's gone or anything."

"No, Audrey, you talk about yours while he is here!" Valerie reminded her.

"She's right," Maureen piped up, "You do."

"He doesn't mind!" Audrey protested.

"He doesn't tell you he does," Valerie said.

"Hey, there's a guy here!" Tom snapped, though he looked more amused than grossed out.

Audrey laughed. "Sorry. Look, just because that comes up once in a while --"

"I don't care!" Tom pleaded. This brought laughs from all four girls, but they did drop the subject.

"Hello, ladies!" came a voice they all knew too well. Caryn swallowed hard as she looked up to see Doug Corman grinning down at them. "Don't know if you've heard, I'm running for president. Can I count on your votes? Caryn, I'm sure you're not voting for Rick anyway."

"Drop dead." Caryn turned back to her lunch.

"Hey, let bygones be bygones!" Doug said. "What's a little locker room talk?"

"We're all voting for someone else anyway, Doug," Audrey proclaimed, and she pointed across the table. "Tom!"

"Tom! You're running?" Everyone except Caryn looked back at Doug to see he was struggling not to laugh. "Well, may the best man win!" With that he was off to the next table. Once there, he made no effort to hide his roaring laughter from Tom and the girls. And because the next table belonged to the basketball team and their groupies, they all joined in on the laughter as well.

"Never mind him, Tom," Maureen said.

"Been ignoring guys like him all my life," Tom said.

Maureen's reply to Tom died in her throat as she looked up to see Dave arriving at the table. He was holding an icepack against his left eye, but smiling through his evident pain. "Oh my God, Dave!" Maureen exclaimed.

"What happened?" Caryn jumped up and clutched his free hand when she saw him.

"Tripped on the stairs," Dave said. "It's okay. I'll live!"

"You're lucky that's all you hurt!" Audrey said.

"It's fine, really!" Dave said, sitting down. "Tom, how's the speech coming?"

"Fine, but people don't even know I'm running," Tom said. "I've got to make some posters, and I need a slogan. How about, 'Vote with aplomb for Tom'?"

"How about no slogan, and you use your posters to say what you're running for?" Dave said. "Stop bullying, library hours for everyone?"

"I like that a lot better than trying to rhyme 'Tom'," Maureen said. She stood up. "Say, if you're all done eating, except Dave, want to go work on some posters now? No offense, Dave, but the editor in chief probably shouldn't be involved in anyone's campaign."

"None taken," Dave said.

"I'll keep him company," Caryn added.

"I'll bet you will," Maureen said under her breath, and Valerie and Audrey both clucked at her and pushed her off toward the door before she could make any more rude comments.

As soon as they were alone, Caryn took Dave's icepak in her hands and pulled it away. "Rick did it, didn't he?"

"Never mind, Caryn, I'll live."

"But I want to know if he did it! Come on, Dave, I have a right to know that."

Dave sighed. "Yeah. Yeah, you do. Look, I know how to handle him."

"Then it was him!"

Dave nodded. "Don't worry about it."

"How can I not worry about it?!" Caryn snapped. "Don't you know what he's capable of?"

Dave set down his icepack and his brave face vanished. "I know what he's done to me before, but...homecoming? Just what did he do to you, Caryn? Do I even want to know?"

"You probably don't, Dave," Caryn admitted. "But..."

Caryn knew Dave didn't like Rick, from the slums of town, who was two years older than Caryn but one year behind her because he'd stayed back twice in elementary school, who'd grown a beard in the seventh grade at Northside, whom Caryn had lusted after all the way back to those days, and who'd finally asked her out last spring, and to whom she'd more than gladly given her virginity last August.

None of her friends cared for him, but especially not Dave. Caryn didn't care, not after landing her longtime crush at last. Not until Homecoming night, anyway.

He'd become her ex because of that game, or really because of what he'd done after it.

Caryn and Dave and the others had seen the worst of it from the stands. Down 21-17 with less than a minute left on the clock, the team had the ball and all the time in the world to get that last touchdown. What they didn't have was Rick, the fullback, when they needed him. Caryn would never forget watching him scramble to the right and leave Doug Corman, the quarterback, utterly vulnerable on the left. Doug had the ball all set to launch and a receiver nearing the endzone, but he never even saw the other team rushing through the gap until he was on the ground. They lost possession, and they lost the game.

"That asshole Doug said MacDaddy!" Rick whined to Caryn later that night in her mother's car. "So I run the MacDaddy, and he pulls the MacGuffin. What the fuck?!"

"You're sure you didn't mishear him, Rick?" Caryn asked.

"Who the fuck's side are you on?!"

"Yours, Rick, but you were the only one who ran the Mac-"

"Shut it, bitch!" Rick burst into tears of rage and slammed his fists on the dashboard.

"Hey! That's my mom's car!" Caryn protested. "You think she'll let me use it again if --"

"I said shut up!" He turned and grabbed at her arm, and unzipped his jeans with his other hand. "You know what you can do to help, babe, and it'll keep you from talking more, too!"

"No way, Rick." Caryn wriggled out of his grasp. "I'm sorry you lost the game, but-"

"I didn't lose the fuckin' game!" he roared in her face, and made another grab at her arm, trying to force her hand down between his legs. Caryn managed to open the car door with her other hand, and wrenched herself out of his grasp. She fell out onto the damp grass, but at least she had a chance of getting away now.

Not for long, as Rick clambered over the transmission hump after her. Caryn managed to scramble to her feet and run around the front of the car. Rick was close behind her, but Caryn had enough of a head start to jump back into the driver's seat and swing the door shut before he could block it -- but not before he'd reached one hand in after her. The door closed hard on his hand, causing him to recoil in agony. By the time he'd recovered well enough to resume his attack on her, Caryn had the car started and in gear, and was off.

Rick showed up to school on Monday with his hand in a bandage and a story about fending off a punch from his father, and Caryn never willingly spoke to him again. Neither, as far as she knew, did Doug. And no one, from the jocks to the nerds and beyond, ever said one word about the game again.

"You and the girls, Dave, you were such a godsend in those days afterward," Caryn said. "Thanks for that."

"We knew it was bad, Caryn," Dave said. "But...wow. Has he bothered you again?"

"He asked me to the dance right after I asked you," Caryn said. "That's probably why...you know."

"Bastard," Dave mumbled.

"Yeah," Caryn agreed. "But we'll show him, huh?"

And after a quick look to see the coast was clear, they shared a quick kiss. It attracted the attention of some of the other kids, but not the teachers on duty.

It was bound to happen sooner or later, Caryn had known that ever since that lousy afternoon at the lingerie shop. Surely everyone had seen that neon sign above her head, or on her chest, or both. It was only a matter of time before someone commented on it.

No surprise that it was a jerk like Craig Galanzo. Or that it was that very afternoon, when she was already seething over what Rick had done to Dave.

One of the few jocks who had sided with Rick over that bungled play, Craig had made more than his share of passes at Caryn over the years, especially since word got out that she and Rick were over. Of course he knew better than to come on too strong to her - but he had no such reservations about most of the other girls. Especially not Mary Willix, reportedly another of Rick's conquests, who was rumored to have been with a few of his other teammates as well.

That afternoon found Mary in tight jeans and a crop top that had Caryn wondering how she hadn't been sent home for lunch. As she clomped down the hallway in her high heels, she didn't see Craig slinking up behind her. Caryn did, but she was too late to stop him from pinching Mary on the rear end and making her squeal. "Aieeee!" Mary whipped around and took a ferocious swing at Craig that msised entirely, then turned back around in disgust.

"Heh heh heh," Craig drawled. "Mary Mary, why you buggin?"

Caryn took a quick look around to make sure the coast was clear, then gave him a shove into the lockers. "Knock it off, asshole," she said. But she leaned just a little too far into his face as she did, and Craig - who was nearly a head shorter - was crouched down defensively to just the wrong level.

"You have big tits," he drawled.

Caryn recoiled in a rare moment of defenselessness, and shook her head at him in disgust. "Just keep your hands to yourself, Craig."

To add insult to injury, she saw Mary looking over her shoulder at her as she left him cowering by the lockers. "Leave him alone, Caryn," Mary said. "Boys will be boys."

Caryn gave her a dirty look and ducked into the girls' room, which was busy between classes, but a stall opened up at just the right time. Caryn locked herself in and took a deep breath, and did her best to think of anything but what Craig had just said. She thought of Friday night with Dave and his father, and how utterly comfortable she'd been with them both. She thought of Saturday night with them both and with Francine, whom she'd hit it off with famously. She'd felt ever so grown up -- and now here she was letting that creep Craig make her feel like a baby precisely because she'd grown up!

Caryn looked down, knowing all too well they'd still be there. She untucked her top up a bit from her jeans to make it look a little looser, and resigned herself to not being able to hide them any better than that for the afternoon. Defiantly she reminded herself that "Dude, she will!" still held sway with the boys, and Dave needed her. And that she just might be in love with him.

As she stepped back out into the still-busy bathroom and washed her hands, the neon sign burned big and bright over her head in the mirror. But once again none of the other girls seemed to notice, at least.

"Mom, I really don't need a new dress!" Caryn protested yet again as her mother ushered her inside her favorite boutique downtown.

"I know, dear," Mom said. "Consider it a late birthday gift. Someday you'll look back and be glad you didn't greet David at the door in jeans and sneakers."

"Mother!" But Caryn had to admit she might have done just that if she thought she could get away with it, and that made her laugh.

"Since even you think your usual style is a joke, dear..." Mom needled her as she began shuffling through a rack of hanging dresses.

"Claire!" came a voice Caryn didn't recognize, and Caryn looked to see a regal older woman greeting her mother. "Have you and Gordon got another party to go to?"

"Not this year, Marla," Mom said. "I'm here to get Caryn a dress for the Valentine's Day dance. A wonderful young man has asked her."

"I asked him, actually," Caryn said.

"Good for you, my dear!" exclaimed Marla, reaching over to clutch Caryn's hand. "Isn't it wonderful how we girls can take matters into our own hands nowadays!"

"A wonderful but shy young man," Mom explained to her friend.

"The good ones always are," Marla gushed. "Now then, dear, what color are we after? Red, for the occasion?"

"If you have something with a neckline that isn't too low," Caryn said warily.

"Nonsense, my dear!" Marla said. "You shouldn't try to hide that lovely bust of yours!"

"Oh!" Caryn pulled her coat tightly around herself and willed her breasts to shrink, and once again the neon was burning as brightly as ever.

"Caryn is having a hard time coming to terms with her figure, Marla," Mom said. "Perhaps a more modest cut is a better idea."

"As you wish, dear," Marla said, though Caryn thought she looked disappointed.

She did, in any event, find a red dress quickly that Caryn didn't dislike and that her mother loved. "Oh, that's beautiful," Mom said as Caryn reluctantly modeled it.

"And how!" Marla said. "Caryn, you're made for that dress."

"Want to wear it home now?" Mom offered, taking out her credit card.

"Very funny!" Caryn said. And at least her mother had the decency to laugh in acknowledgment as Caryn retreated to the fitting room.

"Here you are, Marla," Caryn said upon her return, laying the dress on the counter.

"Anything for you while you're here, Claire?" Marla asked her mother as she folded the dress and set it in its box."

Caryn didn't hear her mother's reply to the offer, as her attention was drawn out the window and across the street to Sally's Subs. Two familiar faces appeared in the doorway, Maureen and Scott, and they did not look happy with one another. Caryn couldn't hear a word from her distance, but she could tell they were arguing loudly enough to make passerby on the sidewalk give them a wide berth. It came to a quick end with Scott turning and rushing off, hands stuffed in his pockets. Caryn had never seen Maureen cry, and she didn't cry now. Instead she stood rooted to the sidewalk, watching him retreat.

"Can you hear us at all, Caryn?!"

"Sorry, Mom!" Caryn turned around, looking sheepish. "I just saw someone I know over by Sally's. It looks like Maureen's in some trouble."

"Have you got time for a splash of chardonnay, Claire?" Marla offered. "Caryn, if you want to go say hello?"

"Could I, Mom?"

"Go ahead. I could use that wine, Marla."

Maureen looked more affronted than relieved when Caryn stepped into the sub shop. "Oh my God, Caryn!" She buried her head in her hands. "You didn't see..."

"I did, and I wanted to make sure you're okay," she said, taking a seat across from her friend in the booth. "My mom and I were -- "

"I know why you were here!" Maureen interrupted. "Didn't you tell your mom you hate wearing dresses anyway?!"

"Yes, but she wouldn't listen." Caryn laughed, hoping Maureen would join in. She didn't. "I think she's happier about Dave than I am," Caryn continued.

"Oh, would you shut it about Dave?!" Maureen snapped. "Caryn, I'm sorry, you're my friend, but...he's a friend! He's one of the girls!"

It hit Caryn out of nowhere. "Maureen, are you jealous?" she asked gingerly. "Is that why you ended up with that creep Scott?"

"How could you, Caryn?!"

"You could've asked him, you know," Caryn said. "It's been what, two years since Michelle?" "I know!" Maureen slammed both her fists down on the table, and Caryn looked around to see everyone else in the shop turn and look at them. Most of them looked away uncomfortably as soon as Caryn made eye contact with them. "I know," Maureen repeated in a calmer voice. "Just, I never imagined...and I had to go and ask Scott! Geez."

"Dare I ask if that's over now?" Caryn asked.

"I guess it could be," Maureen said. "But -- I mean, I just learned he was using me, but I guess I was using him too when I asked him to the dance.

"What was he using you for?"

"To get close to Dave again. He wants to make up with him before graduation. But that's not what the fight was over."

"That's enough, isn't it?" Caryn asked.

Maureen nodded. "Sure. But I sort of guessed that much. I mean, I didn't even know Dave wasn't speaking to him -- it makes sense now that I know it, but I didn't know. No, what it was about was, he invited Brad here! Remember Brad Preston?"

"Right, you told us about him, the way he used to pick on Dave," Caryn said. "I always wanted to beat the heck out of him. And I didn't even hear his crap myself."

"Exactly," Maureen said. "I did. Every single day in French class, 'David, your mother's just like your new friends, a slut!' He had it timed perfectly, so Madame LaSalle would walk in before Dave could say anything about it. And he always just ignored it, just the way they always told us to do with bullies, you know? But it hurt."

"I've never heard Dave talk about it, you know."

"Don't you get it, Caryn? He acts all confident and mature with us because he doesn't want to sound like a whiner. But I knew him before you did, and believe me, it did damage. How could Scott think any friend of Dave's would want to see that little asshole again?!"

Before Caryn could think of an answer, the door opened and she looked up to see Scott returning. "Hi, Caryn," he said with a tentative smile. "Maureen, look, I'm sorry. I knew Brad wouldn't come here anyway."

"Then why'd you invite him?!" Maureen demanded, though she made no objection when Scott sat down beside her.

"Look, I know he was hard on Dave, but that was a long time ago and he has redeeming qualities."

"Scott, none of my business, but how can any redeeming qualities be worth calling your friend's mother a slut?" Caryn demanded.

"Who doesn't act like that in middle school?" Scott argued. "Besides, he didn't really mean that. He was just under a lot of pressure, and Dave was a convenient target."

"That's no excuse," Maureen said.

"And to answer your question, I never called anyone's mom a slut in middle school," Caryn added.

"Yeah, whatever," Scott said. "Girls grow up faster than boys. Brad was just acting his age. But like I said, I knew he wouldn't come here. I just wanted to make an offer to see if we could smooth things over with Dave."

"Why would Dave want to make up with him?!" Maureen and Caryn snapped in unison.

"That's up to him," Scott said. "I just wanted to give it a chance. But Brad has never said yes to anything I've invited him to that involved anyone else, not since we met in fifth grade. I knew he'd say no."

"That's still no excuse," Maureen said. "All right?"

"He's my best friend, Maureen!"

"Because you threw Dave aside like a sack of garbage!"

"Okay, okay, you're right," Scott said. "I wish I could make up with him, is all. But I guess you're saying that'll never happen."

"You guessed right," Maureen said. "But is it me who asked you to the dance, or is it Dave?"

"Point taken," Scott said. "I'm sorry. But could you just ask Dave-"

"You can ask him yourself, Scott," Caryn said in the tone of voice that had been getting boys to shut up and listen since Northside. With that she got up, giving Maureen's hand a friendly squeeze as she did. "I'd better get back to my mother."

"Can't wait to see the dress," Maureen said with a reluctant smile. "It's about time you stopped trying to hide your boobs, you know."

Caryn managed to keep her face set in a smile until she was halfway back across the street, the "I WEAR A 38-D" now seeming to burn not just above her but all around her.

The neon had, at least, died down to only a mild level of embarrassment when Dave joined Caryn for dinner at her house the following evening. Caryn had opted not to tell Dave about the conversation with Scott, so the topic of conversation was the books they were reading for English class. "Caryn is just loving American Lit thanks to you, Dave," her mother gushed. "I don't think I ever thanked her for the way you helped her through Tom Sawyer back at Northside."

"Aw, shucks!" Dave quipped, expecting Caryn to be as embarrassed as he pretended to be.

To his surprise, she wasn't. "She's right, Dave. You really inspired us all to take school more seriously. Except Maureen, she was already a genius like you."