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#i wanted twentieth century fox but whatever this is fine
cinnnam0ngirl · 3 years
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i SWEAR this is my final rebranding y’all i’m thru with frantically changing my username 😫
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those70scomics · 5 years
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This is a story I wrote five-ish chapters for out of eight (and outlined the story’s end). I very much doubt I’ll finish it. So I’ve decided to post what I’ve got, in its first draft and outline form.
Starring: Eric, Donna, Hyde, Jackie, Kelso, Fez, and Buddy Morgan.
Rated: T
Note: Like with all my fic, I’ll post one chapter a week. This is a first draft, so please pardon any awkwardly-worded sentences and what-not.
Light Beams and Rays Brushes from obsidiandawn.com
Links to the Rest of the Story: Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Outline for the End
Disclaimer: That '70s Show copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.
CHAPTER ONE THE LEMNISCATE
Eric was supposed to sleep, but his bed had become a boat, traversing the vast ocean of memory. Its course was a figure-eight, an infinity symbol. The ceaseless back-and-forth nauseated him, but his hands lay helplessly on his stomach. Cold sweat dampened his back, or maybe the boat had sprung a leak. Either way, his back sank into his mattress, and the ceiling-sky blinded his eyes with the end and the beginning. Donna had returned his ring, his promise of forever.
She'd given him his first kiss, dooming his heart to a permanent, unbearable loss.
His blood heated with the inescapable images, fueling him enough to roll onto his side. He clutched his pillowcase and squeezed his eyes shut, but Donna was behind them, leaving eternity on the hood of the Vista Cruiser. His gold promise ring had blazed in the moonlight. It had burned his palm as his fingers closed around it.   “God,” he said into the darkness of his room, “I wish we'd never kissed.” A strange wind swept over the bed, tickling the hairs on the back of his neck. His gaze fixed on the window, but it was closed. “Jeez,” a deep voice said, “what a drama queen.”
Eric rolled onto his back again and sat up a little. His pulse remained steady, despite the intruder standing at the foot of the bed. The man was broad-shouldered, overweight, and dressed in an all-white suit. He could’ve been Bob's fraternal twin, but Eric had never seen him before. “Who are you?” Eric said, though he must've fallen asleep. He had to be dreaming; otherwise, his heart would be thudding in his throat. Someone had broken into his room. That was plenty of cause for a freak-out, but Eric's breathing remained even. The intruder waved his hand in the air. “Let's go.”
Eric tried to muster a sense of panic. That was the normal response to a kidnapper, but no panic came, and he said, “Go where?” “Well, you said you wished that you'd never kissed her. I can show you what would've happened if you never did.”
The intruder had to mean Donna. Eric was definitely dreaming, and he sat up a little more in the bed. “What are you, like a genie?”   The intruder's eyebrows flattened over his eyes. “Genies aren't real. I'm an angel.” “You're not an angel.” Eric had gone to church enough times to tell the difference. “You don't even float. Everyone knows angels float.” “Fine.” The intruder opened his arms wide and levitated several feet off the ground. White light radiated from his body, brightening every corner of Eric's room. It didn't sting Eric's eyes, though, and Eric applauded his subconscious. Its special effects were on par with Industrial Light & Magic's. “Eric Forman,” the intruder said, sweetening his voice, “God's favorite cherub, come with me, and I will release you of your suffering. Don't be afraid, little one.” Eric didn't move from the bed. This dream was approaching disturbing territory. “No offense,” he said, “but are you coming onto me?” The intruder lost his light, his float, and his sweetness. He glared at Eric and said, “Are you ready?” “Not under your terms. I know what would've happened if me and Donna never kissed: I'd lose all our bad times and the good.” Eric gestured dismissively. “Neither of us would be who we are today, blah, blah, blah.” No beginning meant having no ending, but he'd still be without Donna. Somewhere deep inside, he'd feel that absence, whether they'd kissed or not. He flung the covers off himself and jumped out of the bed. He stood face-to-face with the intruder, who smelled surprisingly like freshly-baked cookies. “If you really are what you say you are,” Eric said, “an angel, how about you do something to fix us — well, not us. Me and Donna.” “I can't do that.” “Then good night.” Eric slumped onto the bed and slid his feet beneath the sheets. “But you can.” “Yeah?” Shivers glided across his skin like tiny ice skaters. His instinct was to pull his sheets tightly around himself, but he kicked them to the floor. “Tell me.” “Here's the deal,” the intruder said. “I'll reset your relationship with Donna and all your friends. It'll be like they never met you, and you'll have one week to get a kiss from Donna. If you do, not by force but by choice, then your relationship with her will be fixed.” “Fixed-fixed? Like we never broke up?” “You'll be back together faster than you can say, 'God, I wished we'd never kissed.'” “And if I can't get her to kiss me?” Eric understood how these deals worked. They always had a catch, a horrible, horrible catch. “Are my lips gonna fall off?” The intruder laughed, as if he were privy to a punchline Eric would never get. “No, no. You'll just never get back together. Ever. No third chances. So, are you in?” “Sure, why not?” This was only a dream, after all, and had no actual consequences. Second chances, third chances ... they didn’t matter. Eric wouldn't get either in real life. If the intruder was offering him a few hours of non-misery, he might as well take it. “How do I get started?” “First, you stop calling me the intruder inside your head. It's annoying. Second, check the time.” Eric glanced at his clock-radio. It displayed 3:48 am. “Done and done ... angel guy.” “Now all you have to do is get back in bed.” “Oh, man! I knew this was too good to be true. The second I get into that bed, you're going to do something weird to me, aren't you?” The angel sighed. “Let me do my job, kid.” He patted Eric's cheek. The touch was gentle, but it sent Eric flying onto the bed. “Shut up, shut your eyes, and you'll wake up in your new, full-of-possibilities life.” “Right. If I shut my eyes, you'll...” Eric yawned. He fought to stay awake, but exhaustion overwhelmed his body, something he'd thought would never happen again. His eyes drifted closed, and gratitude filled him. Finally, he'd get some sleep ... but wasn't he already asleep? “No,” the angel whispered, and the last thing Eric felt was being tucked into his sheets.
Eric's eyes popped open to Big Star's “Thirteen”. His clock-radio had a nasty habit of choosing the worst songs to wake him. Day one after his breakup with Donna, and the first song he had to hear was theirs. A barrage of knocks on his door got him out of bed, but the door opened before he could get to it. He must have forgotten to lock it last night, and his subconscious had registered it. That explained his weird dream. “Eric, Eric!” his mom said and rushed into the room. “Breakfast's ready. I want you downstairs and eating in five minutes.” “Thanks, Mom, but I don't really feel like eating.” “Too bad, mister. I won't have you going to school on an empty stomach.” School? Today was the first day of summer break, but she left before he could object. It didn't matter. She'd realize her mistake when he didn't show for breakfast. He closed the door and reached for the slide lock. He had a fun day of staring up at the ceiling ahead of him — but the slide lock wasn't on his door. Neither were the holes he'd drilled to install the slide lock. “What the hell?” “Don't you mean, 'What the heaven?'” That was the angel's voice, and Eric turned toward it. The angel stood before him, wearing that all-white suit. “Welcome to the first day of your new life, Eric.” “No...” Eric slapped his own face. “Ow!” “You're not dreaming,” the angel said. “Let me catch you up. Your dad got transferred from an auto-parts plant in Janesville. Your family spent the last week moving into this house, unpacking boxes and the like. Today is your first day at Point Place High.” He clasped Eric's shoulder. “Make the most of it.” Eric rubbed his tender cheek. “That's cutting it close, isn't it? My family would never move to a new town a week before I had to start school.” “And you never thought you'd be talking to an angel, but here we are.” “Point taken. Anything else I should know?” “Plenty.” The angel grinned smugly. “I'll leave you to it.” “But—” Eric said, but the angel had disappeared. “Fine. Day one … of trying not to screw up my life again.” He went downstairs in his pajamas. The scent of bacon should’ve drawn him to the kitchen, but his appetite was buried six feet underground, along with his relationship with Donna. When he woke from this dream, no matter what he accomplished during it, he'd still be without her. “Okay, angel, I'm out,” he said by the swinging door. Indulging this fantasy wouldn't change anything. “Just let me wake up, and I'll get on with my next seventy years of misery.” “Sorry, no dice. We have a contract,” the angel said inside Eric's mind, and an invisible hand shoved Eric through the swinging door. “Well, look who it is,” Red said as Eric stumbled into the kitchen. “Don't think you're getting out of going to school just because you'll be new there. I have to start at a new plant today, supervising an assembly of dumbasses I've never met. So sit your butt down and eat.” Eric stared at his mom, who was pouring him a glass of orange juice. She must've told Red some story about Eric being nervous. “If you eat breakfast,” she said, “you'll get a nice surprise.” “Kitty, don't bribe the boy.” “It's not a bribe. It's encouragement.” Eric sat at the table. Whatever his parents were going on about, he didn't care.  He plucked a piece of bacon from his plate and nibbled its corner off. “I don't know why you two are such Gloomy Guses,” his mom said. “I'm just so excited about starting at the hospital.” She went on about her new job as head nurse, and Eric managed to eat half the scrambled eggs on his plate and most of the bacon. His ability to swallow died, though, when Red said to him, “If you manage to make any friends today, don't go off anywhere with them after school. Your mom is making us meet the neighbors tonight—” “The Pinciottis,” Mom said. “I bumped into one of them yesterday—Midge. She seems nice. A little flaky but nice. They'd just gotten back from California—oh!” She patted the table with the flat of her hand. “Eric, they have a daughter who goes to Point Place High. You'll probably meet her there!” She laughed. “Wouldn't it be something if you two became friends? You could study together.” “Yeah, that's...” Eric squashed a lump of scrambled eggs with his fork. It squeezed through the fork tines, bleeding yellow. Red cleared his throat. “Okay, enough of this. Eric, your mother and I have been talking. Since the hospital is so close, I can take the Toyota to work and your mom can take the bus." ”Honey, honey, really, I'd rather walk,” Mom said, and Eric experienced a sense of déjà vu. His parents went into a lecture about car safety and “appropriate car use,” and at the end of it the Vista Cruiser's keys went flying over the table. They landed in Eric's eggs. “You're never going to make a sports team with those reflexes,” Red said. “That's it. I'm gonna run you through some drills after school—” “Leave him alone, Red. He's a nervous wreck, the poor thing.” Mom pulled the keys from the eggs and washed them in the sink. “Eric, get dressed and brush your teeth—and make sure your nails are trimmed and clean. You want to make a good impression on your new teachers. If you do that, you're sure to make friends.” “Yes, Mom.” Eric returned to his room. He had no plans on driving to school. Contracts made in dreams with figments of his subconscious weren't legally binding. They couldn't be. He headed for his bed and smacked into an invisible wall. “Hey!” He pushed his shoulder into what should've been air, but it felt like shoving against brick. “This is my dream, so I make the rules. And I say I'm going back to sleep.” He tried again to reach his bed, but his forehead crashed into the invisible wall. “Okay, I'll sleep on the floor.” He curled up on the carpet, but his head throbbed. Terrific. He had a headache in his sleep ... which would keep him from falling asleep? That made no sense. Nothing made sense. He pressed fingers into his temples and groaned.   Air whooshed into his ears, sounding like a sigh. “You're one stubborn kid,” the angel said, and Eric opened his eyes. The angel was standing in front of the bed, arms cross over his chest. “You just have to have everything your way, don't you?” “My way?” Eric pushed himself off the floor, though his head pounded with every movement. “If everything went my way, Donna and I wouldn't have broken up. She'd be wearing my promise ring on her finger. Instead—“ Pain slammed into his skull, making him wince. “Instead,” he repeated, “I've got a stupid headache that won't let me fall back asleep in my own stupid dream.” The angel gestured to himself. “Come here.” Eric stepped toward him but wasn't sure if was under his own command. “What's your problem?” the angel said. “You. You're keeping me from my bed and getting on with the rest of my miserable life.” “Nah. That's not the problem.” The angel struck Eric's forehead with his palm. Eric staggered backward, but the pain in his head had stopped. “Wow.” Eric blinked a few times. “Thanks … even though you're the one who gave me the headache in the first place.” “Because you don't believe.” Eric glanced over the angel's shoulder to his bed. “Damn right I don't believe. I don't believe you're an angel. I don't believe I'm not dreaming. I don't believe—” His voice caught. “I don't believe Donna gave me back my ring, that — that she can see a future without me because...” His mouth went dry. He swallowed, but it didn't help. “Because I can't see a future without her.” “Do you believe there's any hope for you and her?” “I...” His gaze fell to his feet. His toes dug into the carpet, and he swallowed again,  “No.” “And there's part of your problem.” The angel poked Eric in the chest, and Eric gasped as memories bombarded every part of him. The taste of pumpkin pie coated his tongue. The Pinciottis' kitchen filled his vision. Blood heated the nape of his neck, and his own words burrowed into his ears: “Donna, look, that kiss was great and if I could take it back, I would because it's not worth ruining what you and I have.” The angel was making him relive Thanksgiving, the one when he'd Frenched Laurie's college friend. “Eric,” his memory of Donna said, “you are a dumbass.” The Pinciottis' kitchen vanished, replaced by the woods. The smell of mud saturated his nose. The night air was cold, but Donna's body warmed him, along with the double sleeping bag they shared. Vanstock. Donna's laughter was all he heard, until his voice spoke over it, “It's nice to laugh, isn't it? 'Cause I kind of knew about Kelso and Laurie all along and didn't tell you.” “Excuse me?” his memory of Donna said. “Which was wrong,” his memory-self said, “but now I'm being honest, which is right, right?” “Get out of this bag.” “No, wait, Donna. Just, please listen—” “Fine, I'll get out.” Donna's warmth disappeared, but it returned minutes later. “Hey! Move over.” “You're not mad at me anymore?” “Nope.” “So, what are you thinking?” his memory-self said. “That Kelso's an idiot and if I say anything to Jackie, it'll hurt her.” “Yes, exactly.” “And you know what else? You're like, a really great boyfriend.” His heart raced, then and now. His skin tingled as the woods faded. His room rematerialized around him, and the angel said, “I guess you were right. There's no hope. I'll let you out of our deal. All I have to do is snap my fingers, and—” He raised his hand into the air. “Wait, no.” Eric's lashes were damp, and he grasped the angel's hand with both of his own. “Let me try. Please, just ... let me try.” The angel smiled serenely and, before vanishing in flash of light, gave Eric a salute, as if to say, “Good luck.”
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kennethpaul-blog1 · 6 years
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Spunk, Hot and Smart Women
Spunk, Smarts, and combating ability…? She could win at the whole lot. She ought to exchange a tire and dance in a ballgown within the equal ten mins. perhapswith a bit streak of grease over her cheekbone, to remind you that she changed into difficult and delightful, and also to remind you ways proper her cheekbones had been. Now she was carrying a quite dress however fight boots underneathit, and she additionally had a gun, to combat sexism. She looked so proper. She kicked a man within the face, and he or she didn’t even care. “Feminism,” she said to herself, after which put on some purple lipstick. “simply due to the fact I’m a feminist doesn’t mean I don’t like to look excellent.” Then she kicked another guy thru a window, and he fell all the manner. He becomeprobably useless. She had like 4 weapons strapped proper on her boobs. Mallory Ortberg’s “a day in the life of an Empowered girl Heroine” may be satirical, however I’m willing to bet most peopleunderstand the movie stereotype lampooned right here. Trinity within the Matrix, Maggie Madsen in Transformers, Tauriel within the Hobbit… succesful ladies, held up as evidence of Hollywood’s sensitivity to gender equality. Trinity’s a peerless martial artist, Maggie’s a hacker with a knack for marksmanship, Tauriel’s an orc-killing device. those women are on par with the men, right? They’re sturdy ladyCHARACTERS, signed sealed and delivered for container workplace achievement. except Trinity fails to pinnacle her pulse-pounding introduction, fading into the heritage while Neo takes centerstage. Maggie’s remembered for her smarts and stick insect seems, if she’s remembered at all. out of doors of her bow-and-blade-wielding badassery, Tauriel spends her time at the center of a hackneyed love triangle, the best context in which her persona peeks thru. All three characters, like such a lot of woman characters in famous media, lack intensity. SFC_TrinityNeo From The Matrix Revolutions | Warner Bros. pix and Roadshow leisure, 2003 This begs the question: how a ways have we come from the simplistic “Damsel in distress” depiction of girls onscreen, genuinely? “these days the princesses all recognize kung fu, and yet they’re nevertheless the identical princesses,” Sophia McDougall argues in NewStatesmen: They’re nevertheless love pastimes, nonetheless the only lady in a group of 5 boys, and that they’re all kind of the identical. They march on display screen, punch someone to expose how they don’t take no shit, throw round more than one one-liners or forcibly kiss someone due to the fact getting consent is for wimps, and then with ladylike discretion they again out of the narrative’s way. nowadays, the word “sturdy girl character” is greater advertising than substance, suggesting the only trait a femaleshould possess if a movie is to test the “inclusionary” box: strength, which a long way and away has come to intendspunk, smarts, and combating potential. What the phrase have to suggest – perhaps what it initially supposed, earlier than it became muddled by using the vagaries of semantics and prejudices of Hollywood – is “sturdy individual who's female.” here we begin to see “robust” for what it's miles; not spunk/smarts/preventing capability rolled into a one-dimensional person type, but a qualifier regarding craft. What makes a strong individual? The question deserves its own put up, but in brief, we would say a sturdy person is a multidimensional character considerable to the tale. He/she has strengths and weaknesses, and his/her employerfundamentally progresses the plot. at the same time as working via my backlog of movies, i discovered Bridesmaids, a 2011 romantic comedy about the misfortunes that beset Annie after she agrees to function maid of honor for her fine pal. We’re aware about Annie’s baking expertise and recognize her loyalty (strengths), however we’re additionally with her as she faces monetary issues, falls prey to jealousy, and wrestles with questions of 310eaa1671f8cdca56bbfcd482325088 (weaknesses). She’s a completely drawn character whose actions move alongside the movie’s occasions; a sturdy female man or woman within the unique experience of the phrase. SFC_Bridesmaids Bridesmaids | Apatow Productions and Relativity Media, 2011 Bridesmaids was successful, however its complicated portrayal of female characters is the exception to the rule of thumb. In reality, many movies fail the conventional “Bechdel take a look at”, comprising three easy requirements which collectively manage to pay for girl characters a naked minimal of depth: A movie should have as a minimum two ladies in it, Who communicate to every different, approximately something except a person. creator Walt Hickey presents a few startling examples: “The Hobbit: An surprising journey” contains fewer than named women and for this reason fails the check on the primarycriterion. And whilst “The Avengers” has as a minimum ladies in the film – Pepper Potts, Black Widow and Agent Hill come to mind – they don’t communicate to each different, so it fails on the second one criterion. And at the same time as the better halves of Doug and Stu are both named and do certainly have a communique in “The Hangover part 3″, it’s aboutAlan, Zach Galifianakis’ individual, so it fails on the 1/3 criterion. The animated movie, “Frozen”, passes the take a look atin view that significant lady characters, Anna and Elsa, discuss the isolationist policies of Arendelle, plans to build a snowman, and the time Elsa locked their civilization in an eternal wintry weather. Frozen met with crucial and business success in 2013. an awesome year for women in movie? perhaps in component, butin keeping with researcher Martha M. Lauzen, lady characters made up best 15 percent of protagonists and 30 percentageof all speaking characters in that 12 months’s top a hundred grossing films. SFC_Frozen From Frozen | Walt Disney Studios, 2013 Why achieve this many movies fail the Bechdel take a look at? Why does “sturdy woman man or woman” imply “macho” in preference to “multidimensional” to such a lot of? surely, longstanding gender bias plays a part. “let’s be honest,” a top studio executive exhorted the new Yorker, “The decision to make movies is basically made by using guys, and if men don’t ought to make movies about girls they won’t.” To be clean, as Manohla Dargis of The ny instances places it, “There isn’t a returned-room cabal of cigar-chomping male – and girl – executives conspiring against female administrators, at the least that I realize of.” alternatively, she describes the reluctance to fund movies with the aid of and about ladies as symptomatic of a conservative industry fearful ofexchange, even supposing embracing alternate may want to produce better Returns on investment. whatever the motives, the fact is that the advent of strong characters – in different phrases, simple vintage right writing – is non-obligatory when it comes to the representation of 1/2 of the arena’s population! Why do audiences take delivery of such a dismal popularity quo? “well, what choice will we have?”, you would possibly fireplace returned. As mentioned lately here at lighting, Hollywood has a tendency to “play it secure”. The identical kinds of movies get made time and again because they bring within thegreenbacks, so we’re barraged by content that assumes the identical simplistic perspective, 12 months in and year out. We’re conditioned to expect and presented few options to the spunk/smarts/fighting potential of Hollywood’s one-dimensional “sturdy female man or woman” type. It’s vital to word this thought of electricity is a wonderfully possible, if really clichéd, triad of developments to build right into a individual. however if your intention is to create a strong character, you want extra dimensions. How will your individual’s strengths and weaknesses fundamentally development the plot? SFC_AlienTerrified From Alien three | twentieth Century Fox, 1992 within the Alien franchise, Ellen Ripley takes on a malevolent creature, however her terror is regularly palpable. In Terminator 2, Sarah Connor realizes her obsession with stopping Judgment Day is turning her right into a monster, so she finds a less compromising way to prevent research into Skynet. in the Battlestar Galactica reboot, Starbuck’s guilt surrounding the loss of life of her fiancé impacts her ability to educate new Viper pilots. In shifting their tales from factor A to factor B to point C, Ripley, Sarah, and Starbuck kick ass, but like all people, they’ve got their issues. Of direction, not every movie capabilities a strong person who's woman, and that’s best. “A person’s gender, like their spiritual upbringing or their faith, like their favored book or food, like their sexual orientation and reports, like their schooling and their adolescence, is a component of individual,” creator Greg Rucka reminds us. It’s a single megastar in a constellation of narrative concerns. however it does shine in particular bright in a international waylaid through sexism. We encourage you to be sensitive to the fame quo. Push past the bounds Hollywood has a tendency to set for itself, and don't forget: your precedence is to create strong characters, be they male or lady. display their strengths and their weaknesses, and lead them to vital, not incidental, to the plot. SFC_Boyhood From Boyhood | IFC movies, 2014 exchange comes slowly, mainly in the movie commercial enterprise. however it does come, as suggested by means ofsturdy female characters in latest movies along with Boyhood and still Alice, as well as by way of this year’s Golden Globes, honoring movies wherein girls got to be “real, lovable human beings.” Maggie Gyllenhaal put it nicely in her recognition speech for “quality Actress in a Mini-collection or a motion picture Made for tv” (The Honorable lady): What I see, truely, are girls who are occasionally effective and occasionally now not, sometimes sexy, occasionally now not, now and again honorable, every now and then now not. And what I suppose is new is the wealth of roles for realwomen in tv and in film.
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those70scomics · 5 years
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Links to the Rest of the Story: Chapter 1, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Outline for the End
Disclaimer: That '70s Show copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.
CHAPTER TWO THE HEXAGON
The halls of Point Place High were almost the same as always. Eric's shoes squeaked on the freshly-waxed floors, and students jostled him as he walked. He had no hope of finding Donna in this crowd, but he found his assigned locker easily. It was his usual one, on the second floor. He leaned against it while studying his schedule. He and Donna must’ve had at least one class together. History was first, followed by homeroom, trigonometry, then— His schedule flew from his hands, giving him a paper cut. He stuck his stinging finger into his mouth and glanced at the thief: Neil Roony, the jock otherwise known as Destroy. He ripped Eric's schedule into two and passed it to Jesse Hardin, the jock generally called Giveback. “Aw, that's too bad, new kid,” Giveback said. He returned Eric's torn schedule. “We'll see you around.”
Destroy and Giveback disappeared around a corner, and Eric went in the opposite direction. The history classroom was a flight up, but a mountain of muscle blocked his way to the stairwell: Chuck Dickerson, one of the Vikings' defensive tackles. “Um, excuse me,” Eric said. “Sure, once you pay the toll.” “What?” “The toll. You're a freshman—” “Actually, I'm a junior.” Chuck squeezed Eric's arm, hard enough to hurt. “You're too scrawny to be a junior, and I've never seen you before.” “That's because I'm a new student,” Eric said and glanced around the hall. Hyde should've been here to back him up. Destroy and Giveback were obnoxious, but they targeted pretty much everyone. Eric hadn't been specifically targeted by anyone since Hyde had knocked out … Chuck Dickerson with one punch their freshman year. “Damn,” Eric muttered. He wasn't in that life. He was in this one, where he and Hyde hadn't even met yet. Chuck's greatest weakness was his glass jaw, but Eric couldn't slug him. He'd never put enough power into his punch. He could try to charm Chuck with his sarcastic wit, but chances were slim Muscle Mountain would appreciate it. Chuck flexed his meaty fingers. “I don't got all day.“ Eric sighed. “How much?” “Five bucks.” Eric removed his wallet from his corduroy pants. He pulled out a five-dollar bill, and Chuck snatched it. “Pleasure doing business,” Chuck said and moved from the stairwell. Eric trudged up to the third floor. So far, day one was off to a fine start. “Yes, it is, isn't it?” That was the angel's voice, and white light burst in front of Eric's eyes. When it faded, the angel was waiting for him at the top of the stairs. “Don't take anything that happens during these seven days for granted, Eric,” the angel said and pointed him toward the history classroom. “Don't dawdle, either. You've still got three minutes before class starts.” “Great,” Eric said, “Three more minutes to sit awkwardly as the 'new kid'.” But as he approached the classroom, the back of Donna's red hair shone at him like a beacon. His pulse throbbed in his ears, and he began to sweat. “Any idea what should I say to her?” “That's on you,” the angel said, “but now you've got two-minutes and fifty-four seconds.” The angel vanished, and Eric dashed into the classroom. He narrowly avoided crashing into another student, but the desks on either side of Donna were unoccupied. Maybe it was the angel's doing, but whatever. An opportunity was an opportunity, and Eric slid into the seat on Donna's right. She didn't seem to notice him. She was doodling in her notebook. Eric considered a dozen greetings in as many seconds. His introduction would set the tone for the next seven days. Their first meeting, in his actual life, had been as burbling, drooling infants. They'd known each other practically from birth. Nothing he could say now would beat that, but that was the key: he knew her. She didn't respond well to pick-up lines. She'd want him to be himself. “Hi, Donna?” he said, and she looked up from her notebook. Her blue eyes fixed on him, with no recognition reflecting in them. He really was a stranger to her. “I'm Eric—” His throat clogged with nerves, with the pain of losing her, but he swallowed it all down. “Your new neighbor.” “Um ... hi?” She shook her head slightly, as if she didn't understand what he'd said. “Did you always go here, or are you new?” She clutched her pencil in her fist, and her eyes flicked toward the teacher's desk. “Because if you're not new, I'm sorry for being an ass and having no idea who you are.” She took a breath before continuing. “But if you are new, how do you know my name?” His ears flushed. He'd made his first mistake, but it wasn't a game-ender. He just needed to add some clarification. “No, I'm new, but what I meant to say is—” Two fingers poked his shoulder. He peered up, and Kelso was scowling down at him. “Out of my seat.” “There's another seat right there.” Eric gestured to the desk to Donna's left. “Yeah, but I want this one,” Kelso said. “It has a better view.” Eric looked to his right. Pam Macy was sitting at the desk beside him. “Well, too bad, buddy,” he said, grinning at Kelso. “You can't always get what you want.” “Yeah, I can.” Kelso grabbed Eric's arm and yanked him from the desk. He sat down, put his backpack on top of the desk, and said to Donna, “Who is this loser?” “Eric,” she said. “He's new here.” “Eric?” Kelso chuckled. “More like Smell-ric.” Donna curled her lip, like she didn't find his burn funny, and turned her attention back to Eric. “I'm sorry. Kelso, here, never learned basic etiquette. You can still be my neighbor.” She patted the desk to her left. “If you've got a non-creepy reason you know my name. Otherwise, I'm gonna kick your ass after class.” “Believe me, she'll do it,” Kelso said. “And if she doesn't, Hyde—” She thrust her elbow into Kelso's side, and he grunted. “So, 'neighbor,'” she said, “what's the answer?” “It's to sit down, be quiet, and pay attention,” Mr. Wilcox said. Their history teacher had entered the classroom, and he was notorious for handing out student-alert forms. Eric got his butt into the seat to Donna's left, and Mr. Wilcox nodded at him. “That’s better.”
Class started. Eric, Donna, and Kelso were three rows from the front, but Mr. Wilcox's gaze always caught everything. Eric couldn't risk writing Donna a note, but he wrote some notes for himself. The angel told him not to take anything that happened for granted. If Donna was going to kiss him willingly within a week, every detail counted. The school bell rang forty-five minutes later. Everyone stood from their desks, including Eric, but Donna didn't acknowledge him. She was too busy shoving Kelso away from Pam Macy.
“Move along, dink,” Donna said. “I don't think that new, annoying girlfriend of yours will appreciate you staring at another girl's boobs.” “We've only been together two weeks!” Kelso said. “I get two more weeks to look at other girls. It's in the rules.” “What rules?” Donna pushed him toward the classroom door. “Kelso's Rules for Idiots?” Eric kept his distance as they disappeared into the hallway. Donna already thought he was creepy, and following her would only strengthen that opinion. Instead, he headed for homeroom. It was on the second floor, in the science lab. He still had Mrs. Bridges, the biology teacher, as his adviser, same as in his other life. Unfortunately, so did Chuck Dickerson. “Hey, freshman.” Chuck sidled up to him and, through the sheer size of his body, ushered Eric away from Mrs. Bridges and the other students. “Gotta pay the toll.” Eric sucked in a breath through his nose. “For what?” “Being a freshman in my homeroom.” “I told you before, I'm a junior.” Chuck cracked his fleshy, bulbous knuckles. “Six bucks. I'm charging you an extra buck for the lip.” “Nah, you don't wanna do that,” someone said behind Chuck, but Eric couldn't see past Chuck's mountainous build. The voice sounded familiar, and when Chuck turned around, Eric caught a glimpse of Hyde. “What you wanna do is walk away.” “Why would I do that? ” Chuck said. Hyde was blocked from view again. “'Cause if you don't, you'll be cryin' in front of the whole school.” Chuck laughed incredulously but stopped a moment later. “No—” Eric peered around Chuck's broad back, but whatever detail Hyde had communicated silently, it was finished. “Hey, man,” Hyde said, nodding at Eric, “what's your name?” “Eric — Forman. Eric Forman.” “Yeah, so...” Hyde was talking to Chuck, “you're gonna leave my new pal, Forman, alone, and you're gonna give back any dough you swiped from him.” Chuck laughed again, this time nervously. “I didn't take any money.” “Five dollars,” Eric said. “He charged me five dollars for climbing the stairs.” “I - I was just kidding,” Chuck said, and he plucked a crumpled five-dollar bill from his jeans pocket. “Take it.” He pressed the five into Eric's hand. The bill was sweaty but intact, and Chuck scurried to the opposite end of the science lab. Hyde scoffed in Chuck's direction. “Moron.” “Man, thank you,” Eric said, with a smile that hurt his cheeks. At least Hyde was still Hyde. “How'd you — I mean, what'd you threaten him with?” “Better you don't know.” Hyde gestured for Eric to follow him. Eric did, toward Mrs. Bridges, who was taking attendance. That seemed a little strange. Usually, Hyde liked to stay out of a teacher's eyeline, but Eric took a mental note to write down later. “I'm Hyde,” Hyde whispered. “Guessing you transferred from somewhere.” A whole other life, but Eric said, “Janesville. I'm a junior.” Hyde smirked. “Junior from Janesville. What's your next class?” “Trig.” “Cool. That'll make it easy to keep an eye on ya.” Hyde didn't speak after that. He listened as Mrs. Bridges went through the school announcements, and he stuck by Eric's side as they left the science lab. They went down the hall together to Ms. McGee's classroom. Apparently, Hyde had trigonometry, too. That was different. In Eric's actual life, Hyde had taken geometry during their junior year. “Hyde!” Donna's voice rang through the air. She dashed toward him, flung her arms around his neck, and he picked her up in an embrace. Her feet lifted off the ground, and he didn't put her down again until he'd kissed her cheek. “California sun did you good,” he said. “You're even hotter.” She smacked his shoulder, but she was also blushing. “Shut up. You must've shot up, like, three inches in the last two weeks. You're finally the same height as me.” Eric's throat thickened. Hyde and Donna were still friends, good friends. . “Hyde,” she said, taking his hand, “Fez and I snagged the — well, look who it is.” Her suspicious gaze made Eric shiver, and Hyde said, “You know him?” “Not as well as he knows me.” Hyde pulled free of Donna's hand. He stepped in front of Eric, clutched his belt buckle, and cocked his head to the side. “You some kind of pervert, Forman?” “Wait, did you say say Forman?” Donna shoved Hyde back and took his place in front of Eric. “Oh, my God — that's what you meant by new neighbor. You're my actual neighbor, like, in the house next door.” “Yes! Exactly.” Eric heaved a sigh as her gaze softened. “Donna, I—” Ms. McGee appeared at the door, eliciting an, “Oh, crap,” from Donna. Ms. McGee was a young but stern-faced woman who didn't tolerate goofing around. Donna grasped Hyde's hand again and the cuff of Eric's sleeve, and she led them to four desks in the back row. They were all the way to the left of the classroom, right in Ms. McGee's blind spot. She had a lazy eye, which had allowed Eric and Donna to make-out during class — in his other life. “Who is this?” Fez said. He was sitting in the back row with them, three desks in, and he looked Eric up and down. “My replacement?” “No one's replacin' ya, Fez … yet,” Hyde said and clasped Eric's shoulder. “This is Junior from Janesville.” He hiked his thumb at Fez. “Junior, that's our buddy, Fez. Have a seat next to him.” Hyde meant the seat on Fez's left. Eric didn't object, at least not out loud, but Hyde's intent was clear: he was trying to put as much distance between Eric and Donna as possible. “Angel,” Eric said in his mind, “please give me and Donna some classes without our friends. I need time to talk to her alone.” He waited for a response, even that unpleasant tickle at the back of his neck, but the angel was incommunicado. Eric wouldn't be, though. Being passive in this situation was the worst thing he could do. He wrote Donna a note, an apology for accidentally creeping her out, and folded it up. “Fez,” he whispered, “could you pass this to Donna — and just Donna? Don't let Hyde touch it.” “So, my replacement wants a favor, does he?” Fez said. “And what will Fez get in return?” “My gratitude.” Fez faced forward, toward the front of the classroom. “No deal.” Eric searched his brain for an appropriate bribe, an offer that wouldn't raise questions or make Fez say, “Good day!” “M&Ms!” Eric said. “I'll buy you a bag and bring it to you tomorrow.” “A big bag?” Fez said. “The biggest bag I can find.” Fez broke into a grin, and he took the folded-up note. He reached across Hyde's desk and whispered, “Donna, Donna!” Hyde's hand clamped around Fez's wrist. “Whatcha got there?” “Junior from Janesville wrote Donna a note, but you're not supposed to touch it.” “That so?” Hyde gave Eric a sideways glance and snatched the note from Fez. He unfolded it, read it, then crammed it into his jeans pocket. Donna appeared none the wiser. Her focus was on Ms. McGee, but when she spared Hyde any attention, he didn't mention the note. Eric's hand curled into a fist under his desk. Donna not getting his note was all right. He’d just have to apologize directly, but getting past Hyde was going to be an issue. Eric shut his notebook when trig ended. He'd written a page full of observations. Hyde had touched Donna no less than five times during class, and Donna's reaction to him was generally positive. They were closer in this version of Eric's life. Maybe too close.
Students emptied out of the classroom. Eric tried to get to Donna, but Fez got in his way. “A big bag of M&Ms,” Fez said. “Remember that.” “But Donna didn't get the note,” Eric said, half-distracted. Hyde had slid his arm around Donna's shoulders, and they were walking toward the classroom door. Fez began to argue, but Eric had no time for that. “Never mind. M&Ms. Tomorrow. Yeah.” He moved past Fez and managed to catch up with Donna and Hyde. “So, study sesh after school?” Hyde said to her. “Sure,” she said, and he withdrew her arm from their shoulders. They'd reached the hallway. “Have fun wearing shorts.” “Not wearing the damn shorts.” “But you have such pretty legs,” she said, with the same, playful tone she reserved only for Eric — in his other life. “Get bent.” Hyde bolted down the hallway, and once he was no longer visible, Eric went up to Donna. “Hey,” said. “Hey.” “What was that all about?” “Oh, Hyde has gym,” she said. “What've you got next?” “Study hall … and an apology,” he said, and her eyebrows rose in response. “Donna, I'm sorry for coming off as a weirdo. I should've been more precise about the whole neighbor thing.” Her lips lifted into a smile. “You didn't come off as a weirdo.” “That's a relief.” “You came off as a creepy stalker.” He broke eye-contact with her. Was he the only one with so much at stake here? Or were the students rushing to their classes in a similar predicament? They could've all been fighting to get the loves of the life back — no. This purgatory had been created solely for him. She chuckled. “It's fine. Listen, I've got study hall, too. I'll show you where it is.” Their shoes squeaked in a syncopated rhythm on the floor. Donna had set a slow pace, but Eric wasn't so naïve as to believe it was because of him.
They turned a corner. Study hall was all the way at the eastern end of the school. He'd been silent so far, measuring the risk-benefit ratio of speaking what was on his mind. Going the humorous route might win her over, but he needed more information. “So, you and Hyde, huh?” he said, scratching his wrist. “Me and Hyde what?” His stomach lurched, but he had to keep going. “You're together.” She scrunched her face. “No way. I've known him, like, my whole life. He's more like a brother. ” “He might not see it that way.” “Well, that's too bad.” Blood rushed to her cheeks. “What do you care, anyway?” He put up his hands. “I just don't want to step on anyone's toes. It's hard making friends when you move to a new town — and you seem like a really nice person. But if you and Hyde are dating, he probably won't want us becoming friends.” “Okay, look.” She stopped him a few steps from the study hall. “I'll give you a break today because you're new, but I choose my friendships, not Hyde. Not you. Me.” “Got it — and I'm sorry. Again.” “Good.” She gestured to the study hall, and he entered first. The classroom was full of eight-seat tables, not desks. Students from every grade sat around them. Some had their notebooks out, but the first study hall of the year was usually a free-for-all. Especially with Mrs. Fletcher supervising. She'd been Eric's teacher for Algebra II and geometry, and she let students get away with sing-a longs and all sorts of nonsense. He loved Mrs. Fletcher. “I guess I'll go sit over there.” He jutted his chin toward a relatively empty table. “I'll see you around.” “No, wait.” Donna tugged on his sleeve before he could run off. “I'll go with you.” She moved behind him and gave him a little push. “Hurry, hurry—” He didn't understand her urgency, but he darted to the table. She crashed into his back when he stopped, as if she'd been right on his heels, and she chose a seat with her back to the center of the room. “What was that?” Eric said with a laugh. He sat beside her, and she scooted her chair closer to him. “That was me trying to avoid someone,” she whispered. Her breath heated his ear, and the sensation traveled to places it shouldn't have. “Kelso's girlfriend. She's this obnoxious sophomore, and he keeps bringing her to my house.” “Sounds like fun,” Eric whispered back. “Oh, tons. She keeps trying to be friends with me. But we're, like, total opposites. I care about women's rights and rock, and she cares about popularity and … and makeup.” She shuddered. “I can't take another second of her blabbing about my pores. She's—” “Donna?” a high-pitched, feminine voice said. Jackie was running to their table. “Oh, my God — Donna!” Donna groaned and pressed her forehead to the table. Jackie plunked down in the unoccupied chair next to her. “Donna — a men's T-shirt?” She pinched the material of Donna's gray-and-black shirt. “Why would you wear such a drab thing on the first day of school?” Donna raised her head from the table and gave Eric a look, one that said, “See what I mean?” She was obviously miserable about Jackie's presence, and Eric couldn’t blame her. But this was the happiest he’d ever been to see Jackie. She was his ticket to Donna's friendship. “Say,” Eric said, “aren't you Kelso's girlfriend?” “Yeah. ” Jackie shoved Donna's shoulder. “Donna, sit up straight. We've got to talk about your wardrobe — and your posture.” “Quit it, Jackie!” Donna said, and Eric thanked his luck. She'd said Jackie's name. Now he wouldn't have to be as careful. Jackie smoothed the material of her dress. “I'm doing you a favor! You're a junior now, which means you can mingle with seniors … which means popularity. You have to dress the part.” “I don't have to do anything.” Donna stood and slung her backpack onto her shoulder. “You're being rude, not only to me but to my new neighbor. His family just moved into the house next to mine.” She gestured at Eric. “You're probably gonna see a lot of him, so why don't you get to know him?” Donna's hair bounced against her backpack as she left study hall. She was running toward the door, and Jackie leapt from her chair. “Hold on, Jackie,” Eric said, standing. “Your boyfriend's a cheater.” “What?” Jackie whipped toward him. “What are you talking about?” “I'm—” “Children!” Mrs. Fletcher said from the front of the classroom. “Talking is fine, but please do so while seated.” “Yes, Mrs. Fletcher,” Eric and Jackie said together. They sat down again, and Jackie glared at Eric. He  gripped the edge of the table. Telling Jackie the truth would do triple duty: spare her the heartbreak of being Kelso's girlfriend, spare Donna the headache of listening to Jackie, and score Eric major points with Donna — for sparing her that headache. “Kelso and I had history class together,” he said, “and he spent it looking at Pam Macy's ample chest.” “Oh, that is not true!” Jackie patted her heart. “Michael's in love with me. He told me so last week.” “Trust me on this, Jackie. Kelso is a liar, and he's going to cheat on you the first chance he—” Pain bit into Eric's shin. “Kick me all you want — actually, please don't — but Kelso is — ow!” Jackie had kicked him again. He bent down and rubbed his leg. He was sure to have a bruise, but it would be worth it. “No man would dare cheat on me,” she said and began counting off on her fingers. “First, I'm beautiful. Second, I'm rich. Third, my dad would sue anyone who even thought of cheating on me.” She jabbed his chest. “Tell me where your dad works.” “Why, so you can get him fired?” He covered his chest protectively. The flesh was tender beneath his shirt. Another bruise had to be forming. “Don't kill the messenger.” Jackie pushed herself from the table and stood up. “What do you know anyway? You're new here.” “I just don't want to see … someone as beautiful and rich as you get hurt,” he said. A strange squeak left her throat. Maybe he’d gotten through to her. Or she was suffering synaptic overload, like those androids in that episode of Star Trek. Smoke didn't pour from her ears, but if her brain was going to explode, its chunks wouldn't land on him. He snatched his backpack, raced from the study hall, and didn't look back.
Eric tried to lose Fez on the way to the cafeteria. They'd just spent the last forty-five minutes together in English class, during which Fez passed him notes about M&Ms. Eric's backpack was crowded with wasted paper, but he had no chance to empty it. Fez remained by his side, rambling about candy, even in the lunch line. But Eric's annoyance faded once Donna waved him over to her table. Hyde was already there, sitting on Donna's left side. He made sure Fez sat on Donna's right. That allowed Eric the spot across from her. Kelso, however, was absent, a fact Hyde didn't appear to like. “Jackie's probably got him 'occupied,” Hyde said. “Man, he's gotta break up with her already.” Donna nodded. “I know! She accosted me in study hall, and—” She laughed and pointed at Eric. “And I left poor Eric to fend for himself. How did that go, by the way?” “She kicked me.”  “She what?” Donna covered her mouth and laughed some more. Hyde saluted him. “Welcome to Point Place High, Junior.” “Oh, I would love to be kicked by the luscious Jackie Burkhart,” Fez said. “She is so … luscious.” “She's not luscious, man,” Hyde said. “She's abrasive—” His arm shot across the table, and his hand hovered over Eric's bowl of chili. “I wouldn't.” Eric gripped his spoon. He was the only one who'd gotten the chili. Chicken wings filled Donna and Fez's food tray, and Hyde's had only a bagel. “I know lunch food usually sucks,” Eric said, “but it can't be that bad.” “Yeah, it can.” Hyde moved his hand off Eric's bowl. “Go fishing. See what you find.” Eric stuck his spoon into the chili. Hyde and Donna pounded the table in a drum roll as Eric scooped out a cigarette butt slathered in sauce. “Congrats,” Hyde said. “We have a winner.” “Oh, God, that's right.” Eric dropped the spoon back into the chili and shoved his tray away from him. “Your—” He bit his cheek to shut himself up. Hyde's mom was the lunch lady, but Eric wasn't supposed to know that. In his other life, “Gross” Edna hadn't served him school food in ages. In this one, he'd been so irritated by Fez's candy ramblings he hadn't paid attention. When he’d reached the front of the lunch line, chili plopped into his bowl, and he'd walked away. Donna turned her tray ninety degrees and edged it closer to Eric. “You can share my chicken wings. They were made by her assistant. They're safe … I'm pretty sure.” “Thanks,” Eric said, and warmth spread in his chest as he ate. It was partly from the over-spiced chicken wings, partly from Donna's kindness. If he weren't already in love with her, he'd fall in love with her all over again.
The rest of Eric's school day resulted in an interesting observation — and more than a little boredom. Donna wasn't in his chemistry class. Neither were Hyde, Fez, or Kelso, but Eric had someone to keep him company: Buddy Morgan. Buddy introduced himself first, and the class went by faster than it would have otherwise. Gym was next, a sweaty, torturous set of evaluatory drills with Fez and Kelso. In between huffing and puffing, though, Eric learned where Kelso had been during lunch: searching for Jackie. “I looked everywhere for her,” Kelso said to Fez, loud enough for Eric to overhear. “Being in school is supposed to make it easier to make out, not harder.” “How does it make it easier?” Fez said. “'Cause we're in the same building. We should've been Frenching all over the halls. Instead, I was running through them alone.” Eric grinned. Doing drills made the bruise on his shin hurt, but it was a small price to pay if his plan had worked. Jackie was avoiding Kelso. If that led to a breakup, then Donna would inevitably learn Eric's part in it, and he'd be rewarded. Maybe with a kiss. That thought kept Eric smiling through music, his final class of the day. Like chemistry, it offered no new opportunities. His not-yet friends were elsewhere, and he didn't run into them again in the parking lot. He drove home with the radio on full-blast. Doubt skulked inside his mind, but WFPP's block of Todd Rundgren songs distracted him from it. At the end of “Hello It's Me,” the station's announced a contest, offering tickets to Rundgren's sold-out show in Milwaukee this Sunday.” “Holy crap—” Eric swerved the Vista Cruiser to the right but regained control before he crashed into a lamppost. He pulled over on Pinewood Avenue to regroup. Todd Rundgren — his and Donna's first kiss had happened after that concert. He needed to win those tickets. His parents were still at work when he arrived at the house, and he dragged his tired body upstairs. Homework could wait. He'd finish it easily; none of his classes were new. He'd already been through them in his other life. Sleep came quickly, but a rough hand jostled him awake. His dad was standing over him, scowling. “Your mom's making us meet the neighbors,” he said. “Comb your hair — and try not to be a dumbass.” Red left him, and Eric checked himself over in the mirror above his dresser. He'd slept in his clothes. They were rumpled, and he straightened them out as best he could. He also combed his hair, put on his shoes, and practically flew down the stairs. Finally, he'd get a chance to talk to Donna without anyone interfering. In the kitchen, his mom passed him a plate of brownies. “Now, these are for the Pinciottis,” she said, “so don't touch.” “Got it, Mom.” “Red,” she said, “try to smile.” Red grimaced, and Eric said, “That's as good as you're gonna get from him.” “Watch it,” Red said, and they all left the kitchen through the sliding door. The Pinciottis were already in the driveway. Midge had a pie in her hands, but Bob spoke first. “Hiya, neighbors! I'm Bob Pinciotti.” He clasped Midge's shoulder. “This is my wife, Midge...” He cupped the back of Donna's head. “And this is our daughter, Donna.” “Well, it's wonderful to finally meet you,” Mom said. Midge frowned. “I thought we met yesterday. That wasn't you?” “No — I mean, yes.” Mom shut her eyes and shook her head. “That was me, but it's nice to finally meet all of you. I'm Kitty.” She patted Red's arm. “This is Red, and...” She ushered Eric in front of her. “This is our son, Eric.” Eric's focus shifted to Donna. The sun had sunk low in the sky, and its rays imbued her with a heavenly glow. He was staring  — and it had to stop. He blinked twice, handed Bob the plate of brownies, and Midge gave Red the pie. That led to Eric's mom inviting the Pinciottis into the house. Bob and Midge accepted the offer, but Eric and Donna remained outside on the driveway. “So,” Donna said, “your parents seem nice.” “My mom is. My dad … well, he's a hardass.” “My dad's the opposite. Total softy.” Eric rocked on his heels. The conversation was going well. They were sharing with each other, but in his other life he'd had years to earn a kiss. In this one, he had only a week. “So your mom's the disciplinarian?” he said. He knew the answer, but this path of questioning could lead to a promising destination. She snorted. “Please. My parents wouldn't recognize discipline if it slapped them on the butt.” “You sound thrilled about that.” “Well, you know...” She brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. Eric hesitated before replying. Hyde could relate to her family situation better. They both had neglectful parents, whereas Eric's were a bit too present. But that had never stopped him from sympathizing with her, and it wouldn't stop him now. “They don't pay all that much attention to you, do they?” he said. She shrugged, and her gaze dropped to the pavement. She wasn't talking, but she hadn't left. He opened his mouth to change course, but she said, “They get into, like, really weird fads. Wrapped up in whatever's 'hip' for the month. Some of it's pretty disturbing.” “Believe me, Donna, I know from disturbing.” He laughed uncomfortably. “One time, I walked in my parents having sex. Their bedroom wasn't locked. I needed to get help for a friend of mine — my mom's a nurse. Anyway, I opened the door...” He swallowed as the memory resurfaced. “and there my parents were, naked and groaning each other's names—” Her gaze rose from the ground, and her eyes widened. “Oh, God, ew!” “I can still see them in my mind … hear them.” He wasn't lying. Discussing this horror had brought it back in full color. Sharing it with Donna so soon was a huge risk, but he needed to prove they had experiences in common. “It was just — it's awful.” “Okay, I'm gonna tell you something I've never told anybody else, all right?” She stepped closer to him. “When I was twelve, I saw my parents doing it...” Her story about finding her parents in her backyard, having sex on the hammock, was worse than his story. His responses were natural as she recounted it here, but most of his shock came from her openness. In his other life, he'd spent seventeen years with her. In this one, they'd had barely a few hours together, yet her instinct was to comfort him. She was wonderful … and he'd lost her. Not this time. He'd get that kiss. He'd return to his other life, and their relationship would be fixed, all by being himself. Because God loved him. “Oh, it won't be that easy,” the angel said in his mind, and Eric waved dismissively at his disembodied voice. Donna followed his hand movements, as if he were swatting at a fly. He clenched his fist and hid it in his pocket, and she continued her story. She described the checkerboard pattern left by the hammock on her parents' bodies, and when she finished, he said, “That must've completely freaked you out.” “No kidding! But the pain eventually receded, and I was able to live again.” “Speaking of living again...” He scratched the back of his head. “I heard Todd Rundgren's playing County Stadium in Milwaukee this Sunday.” “You like Todd Rundgren?” “Oh, yeah. WFPP's having a contest all week to win tickets. I'm gonna try to get a pair.” “Man, going to a Rundgren concert would be so cool.” She cracked her knuckles, something she often did while thinking. “You know what? I'm gonna try to win a pair, too.” “May the Force be with you.” “What?” He shut his eyes and cursed inwardly. Star Wars wouldn't come out for another seven months. He scavenged for a decent cover, but the patio door slid open behind him. His parents returned to the driveway with Bob and Midge. Red's face was slightly flushed, but he stayed quiet as Mom said, “Eric, the Pinciottis have agreed to join us for dinner this Saturday.” “Pumpkin, you're invited, too,” Bob said to Donna, and Eric's heart bounced against his ribs. Kiss-opportunities were increasing. He just had to take advantage of them. Midge grinned, and her teeth flashed in the patio light  “We'll see you on Saturday!” “Nice to meet you,” Donna said to Eric's parents and checked her watch. “God, Hyde must think I've fallen into a black hole.” She patted Eric's shoulder. “I'll see you tomorrow?” “Yeah. Hey, I could—” drive you to school, Eric intended to say, but she was already gone, stolen from him by her friendship with Hyde.
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