(This is the beginning of a really cool idea. ;-P)

*October 5, 1992.*

I looked in the mirror and fixed my top. He was coming. He was actually going to come to my house to pick me up for a date. He’d never shown any affection to me before. We’d talk at school and everything, but I didn’t expect him to actually date me. I thought he would be interested in other girls. He was the cheerleader boyfriend type. He’d never ask me on a date. I was wrong.

He came up to my locker on Friday. He asked me what I was doing Saturday night. Naturally, I said I wasn’t doing anything. He brushed his jet black hair back, straightening his ponytail. I looked at him, as he looked me over. I knew he wanted a date. "How about I come pick you up, then," he said to me. How could I resist! It’s only the cutest guy in the school asking me to go out on a date with him. I said yes, gave him my address, and shut my locker. He walked away from it, but I watched him every step. I wanted to make sure that he didn’t ask any other girls if he could take them out. He was mine.

I rushed home. Opening the closet door, I flung every outfit in it out onto the floor. I looked through every outfit, trying to find the one that made me look most attractive. Was it the red? No. The red makes me look fat. The blue? Or should I go with a dress? Maybe the pants and top will do the trick. After hours of choosing the right outfit, I settled on a black miniskirt. It was hugging tight, but I figured he’d like it. All guys would like that sort of thing, I’d suppose. That’s what all of them are after, isn’t it? That’s what my mom thinks. But, then again, what would she know? She’s a lousy barfly. But, she’s the woman who gave birth to me, and I get all of my womanly instinct from her, so I should listen.

Straightening my top, I heard a noise outside. Could it be him? Is he out there? My thoughts were racing. I pulled the curtains apart and looked out. It was only my mother and her drinking friends. She was staggering up to the door, with 2 men hanging onto her. I heard the car horn beep, but when I looked closer, it was just some guy passed out with his head on the wheel. I just hoped that they’d leave before he came. I wanted to make an impression, and with drunks in my yard, I’m afraid that would be a bad impression.

I went downstairs to wait around. Picking up the remote, I turned on the television. Nothing was on. I turned it on the previews. Nothing good. I picked up my homework. Algebra. I hated it. All of a sudden I heard a knock on the door. I rushed to answer.

"Cheryl?" a voice asked.

"Yeah..," I said, laughingly.

"So, you gonna stare at me all night or come get in my car?" he said, winking his eye, ever so sexily.

I just looked at him. I looked him over. He was wearing a black leather jacket, a black shirt with a collar, and black jeans. Robert didn’t have to dress up to look good. He always looked good. Robert had a stance about him. He stood all leaned over to the left and frequently tilted his head as he talked. He could make a girl sweat. Robert was all mine now. He’d picked me.

I suddenly snapped out of it from around a minute’s wait. "Oh…," I said shyly, grinning. "Sure."

We walked over to his car. It was his dad’s Sedan. He opened the passengers’ side door like a gentleman to let me in. Robert made his way around the car and got in. He looked for something above the sun visor, and then skidded the car down the street, doing 80.

"So, where do you want to go?" he asked.

"I dunno," she replied. "I hadn’t really given it much thought."

"How about we……," Robert said, thinking as he drove. "How about we go to the movies?"

"Um, sure," I replied, smiling.

We arrived at the movies and parked the Sedan. Robert got out and went to the other side of the car, where he opened the car door and escorted me out.

"So, what you wantin’ to see?" he asked as we walked down the parking lot.

"I don’t know," I said timidly. "You got any ideas?"

"We’ll see what’s on, dear," he replied with that famous head tilt.

As we approached the door to the movie theatre, there were several girls standing outside, smoking cigarettes. I recognized them. They were the cheerleaders, the "pompom" squad, the peppy girls. The leader of the group was Alex Hayfield, a blond haired, blue eyed, boy crazy, long legged, girl. She used to date Robert quite some time ago. I heard that he dumped her because of a drug problem, or something.

Yes, I believe it was a drug problem that caused them to separate. I remember coming out of the gym doors, all sweaty from the basketball practice, and there were the 2, and a larger crowd behind them. They were yelling at each other, wildly. "I will not be involved with an addict" and "I’m not an addict, its all lies" were a couple of quotes that I can remember. It was a bad relationship, the 2 of them. I don’t believe that they really liked each other, either. She was too stuck-up to interest him. As we passed by the click, I tried my best to look stuck-up, as if to say, "Screw you. He’s mine now."

"Hi, Rob," said Alex, as if she was trying to act as though she wasn’t jealous. "How’s it going?"

"Just fine, Alex," he said, sighing. "I really need to get going. Excuse us."

"Oh. Ok," she said, acting like she didn’t care. I knew she cared. I knew good and well she wished she were I.

We went inside to the box office and bought our tickets. Robert started to walk over to the concessions.

"What do you want, babe?" he asked.

"Whatever you want will be fine…," I said with a smile.

"Ok, wait here for a sec."

I stood there for a moment. I watched him go up to the counter, when suddenly I felt someone breathing down my neck. It was Alex and her friends. They were right behind me. I didn’t turn around. Did she have a knife? What was she going to say? I waited for a minute, filled with terror.

"Hey, bitch," she yelled. "Who the hell do you think you are, dating him? Everyone knows he loves me. He’ll always want me. What so you have to offer him? I don’t know why the hell he even wanted to date a skank like you."

I stood there for a minute and looked around. Should I say something? What should I do?

"Well, at least he’s not just dating me for the sex," I said bravely.

There was a dead silence. The only thing that could be heard was the breath of the other people at the theatre.

"You stay the hell away from him, you whore. You hear me?" she said, as she stepped up to me and spit on my face.

They walked away. I stood there. I heard them laughing. I couldn’t stand it. I started to cry. Robert walked up.

"What’s the matter," he asked. He looked out the door and saw the girls. "Maybe we ought to leave…"

"No," I said, wiping my tears. "I can handle it. I really can."

"No, you can’t," he said, taking me out the door.

We walked across the parking lot to the Sedan. He put me in and drove up to the front of the theatre. There, he squealed his tires in a puddle, getting the girls wet. That was awfully nice of him, to do that for me. I looked at him in thanks.

He drove up to a field away from town. The moon was out and the stars were shining bright. We stayed in the car and cuddled up to on another.

"I’m really sorry that you had to go through that at the movies, Cheryl…," he said, running his fingers through my hair.

"No, don’t b…."

"Yes, I should be. If I would have never broken up with…her… this whole thing wouldn’t have happened. She could have had a gun or knife."

"Believe me, I’m used to it. I’m used to being called a whore and a slut and a tramp. Believe me. When you live in a home with a mother that goes away to a club, and drinks the night away, only to come home with 2 or 3 men at a time, while my father comes over and slaps her around because he thinks they’re still married, you get used to these things. This happens all the time. This is a normal thing. Since my brother died, my mother became an alcoholic. She and my dad got divorced, because my mom said that "He killed my baby." I guess she was looking for someone to dish out her anger to. Then she lost dad and became an alcoholic, so that she could use the alcohol as a "cop-out" for her problems. Since then she’s gone to the dogs. We’re poor. I have no money. I only have the clothes that I had before the two got separated. My mother has forgotten about me. She doesn’t know I exist. She doesn’t care. The only thing she cares about are her male friends and her booze."

"Yeah. I know what you’re talking about. I live with my old man. He smokes cigarettes constantly! He has emphysema really bad. I’m afraid he’s going to die of lung cancer before he turns old."

He started to rub my shoulders. It felt really good. He gave really good massages.

"You know, we got a lot of things in common, you and me," he said.

"We sure do," I said looking up at him, smiling.

There was a silence. It was a long pause in the still of the night. He looked me right in they eyes. His big gray eyes met mine. He kissed me. He started to kiss me very passionately. He looked me in the eyes again. He started rubbing my shoulders and kissing me. I looked up at him, and closed my eyes in on the night sky, as his lips surrounded me. He was mine. For keeps.

(Now, you'll have to wait to see the things in store for THIS!)