The MILF Files: Volume 2

Prom Night Cougar-3

“Well, I had to help you out, right? Knowing you, you’d stick a note in her locker. ‘Dear Kay. I like you. Do you like me? Will you go to prom with me? Please check yes or no.’”

Despite the nervousness coiling in his stomach, he grinned. “I don’t think I was that hopeless.”

“No. You’re not.” Her voice turned serious. “Just…watch out tonight, all right?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that the kids in that family have a mean streak a mile wide. Remember Jim? Five years older than you, but he would always ‘accidentally’ manage to hit you with a pitch when we were playing softball in the back yard when they came over to visit. Or John. He was a rotten little bastard. Remember how he’d give you wedgies until you cried?”

“Kay isn’t like that.”

“Kay was raised in the same house, Danny. Mom and Marge might be BFFs, but that doesn’t mean anything when it comes to you and Kay.”

“You’re imagining things.” He ran a comb through his hair one last time, nodded at the results, and pushed past his sister.

His parents were waiting in the living room. His mother took a long, slow look at him, then nodded, as if to give her stamp of approval. His father leaned against a door-jamb, a small smile playing over his face.

“Stand still, Daniel.” His mother lifted her phone. “I want to get some pictures of you.” She frowned, a line appearing between her eyebrows. “I don’t know why you couldn’t bring Kaylen over here so we could take pictures of you two together.”

Because I didn’t want to put her through this, he thought, but posed obligingly for the pictures.

After his mother had snapped enough times to use up an entire cannister of film, if this had been the nineties, his father beckoned him over. “Big night tonight,” he said quietly.

“Yes, Dad.”

“You guys going out to eat after?”

“Yeah. The Red Lion.”

“Fancy place. You got enough money?”

“Yes.”

“Here.” He reached into his wallet and peeled off a trio of twenties. “Just in case.

“I suppose,” he said, lowering his voice, “that you don’t expect to get back until real late?”

Christ. The last thing he wanted was to discuss this with his father. And if his mother barged in… “Maybe,” he said, avoiding his eyes.

“Are you prepared?” His voice was carefully bland, as if he didn’t want to draw his wife’s attention. Katherine Gray had a motherly radar which could sniff out a guilty secret at a hundred paces. “Because I’m not quite ready to be a grandpa just yet, and I’ve got some protection in the bedroom if you need it.”

“No, Dad,” he choked out. “I’m ready.”

“All right, then.” A large hand, fell on his shoulder, callused by years of work. “You’re a good kid, Danny. I’m proud of you. Got the corsage?” he said, a little more loudly, as his mother drifted up to them.

“In the fridge,” he replied.

“Then you better get going.

“And don’t forget to roll up the windows,” he called as he climbed into the car, Faith and his mother waving at him as he put the car into gear. “It looks like rain tonight!”

Luckily, the scene at the Griffith’s household was much more restrained. He endured another round of photos, this time from Kay’s mother Marge, who promised to send copies to his mother, and pinned the corsage to Kay’s dress. Luckily, her brothers Jim and John were absent, as was her dim-witted younger brother, Mikey.

“You ready?” he asked his voice low, as Marge chattered away. Kay’s father, Mike senior, watched suspiciously from a few feet away.

Kay nodded, and they began to make their excuses. But before they could escape, Mike stepped forward. “Danny? A word?”

“Sure.”

The older man put his arm around his shoulders and guided him to one side. “Danny. Your mom and my wife have been friends for nearly fifteen years. I’ve watched you grow up. You’re a good kid.

“Which is why I think I can say this.

“You put one hand on my daughter, and I kill you.”

Startled, he looked up at the taller man, hoping he was making one of his weird jokes. But the cold blue eyes, boring into his, were dead serious, and with a flash of insight he realized where Jim and John picked up their personality. This man, if his daughter complained to him, would enjoy causing him physical pain.

“I won’t,” he said hastily. “Sir.”

A thin smile played over his lips. “Good. Don’t.”

As they left the house, Marge’s cheery calls to have fun echoing in their ears, he could still feel Mike’s eyes boring into his back. As he pulled the Pontiac out of the driveway and into the street, he sighed in relief.

“Did Dad give you his Big Bad Wolf act?” Kay asked teasingly. “Don’t worry. He says that to all the boys I’ve dated.” She giggled. “It’s never stopped me from doing what I want.”

“He seemed pretty…serious…about it.”

“Yeah,” she smiled. “I think he likes seeing the looks in their eyes.” She set a hand on his arm. “Don’t worry, Danny. This is going to be a night you’ll never forget.”

A thrill went through his body. “I like your dress.”

“Thanks,” she looked down at the periwinkle chiffon. The lady at the rental place said it brought out my eyes.”

“It does. And it makes your…I mean…”

“You mean it makes by boobs and ass look nice.” She leaned back and crossed her ankles, which drew his attention to her legs. “Relax, Danny. I’ve known you since we were kids. You can say what you really mean.”

Your brothers are assholes and your father’s a psycho, he very carefully did not say. And if I put a hand on you and you decide to complain about it to your mom, I’ll never hear the end of it at home. Maybe his plan to go out with Kay, despite (or even because of) her reputation as a girl who you did not have to work on very hard to get her panties off, wasn’t quite a clever as he thought it had been.

As they talked, they drove through the small downtown district. Oakdale wasn’t a huge town by any stretch, but it was growing as more and more people moved into the towns east of the Mississippi on the Illinois side of St. Louis. So far it had avoided the explosive growth of some of those towns, which brought with it new, raw, and ugly subdivisions and all the corporate chain stores and restaurants that the new neighbors swore they couldn’t live without. His father swore, jokingly or not, that as soon as he saw a Starbucks peek out its ugly head that he would pull up stakes and move to someplace even smaller. Winkle, maybe. Or Radom, a burg so tiny that the city-limit signs were practically back-to-back.

Soon the high school hove into view. A solid one-story brick building that had been built in the 1930s, it sat on the edge of town, like a sentry that refused to leave his post. Cars were already filling the parking lot, and a few limousines, imported from out of town, stopped in front of the main doors, disgorging couples who could afford the cost.

He parked and emerged into the humid May air. In the west, clouds were building, blue-black thunderheads ominous across the southern Illinois cornfields. Knowing his duty, he walked quickly to the passenger side, opening the door for Kay. “My lady?” he joked, holding out a hand.

She took it, a strange half-smile curling her lips. As she lifted out of the seat, she leaned forward, allowing him to look down her cleavage. Her breasts were round and full and slightly damp with the heat.

“Like what you see?” she teased.

“Quite a bit,” he replied, which won him a return of that same smile.

“Well, let’s go. Senior Prom. Who would have thought that the two of us would be dating?”

It was strange, walking through the halls of the school at night. The shadows were different, and the sounds. Even the smell of school, comprised of one part chalk dust, one part books, one part sweat, and one part teenage hormones, seemed to have changed slightly. The tiles in the foyer had been recently mopped down, leaving a lingering order of pine-sol and air freshener.

The gym, in the west side of the building, had been transformed. Or, at least as much as crepe streamers, posters, and portable spotlights could do. The lights had been dimmed slightly, and a DJ had set up under one of the baskets, pumping out music that was loud but not overwhelming. Some couples were already out on the dance floor, swaying back and forth to the sappy romantic tune.

“Gray!” A voice shouted, practically in his ear. “Drop and give me twenty!”

“Jesus!” He startled and spun around, his arm pulling loose from Kay’s hand. “What the hell, man?”

Frank Murray grinned at him. “Just thought I’d give you one of Coach Shaw’s little wake-up calls. Just for old-time’s sake, you know?”

“That asshole.” His eyes darted around. “He’s not here, is he?”

“Nah.” Frank shook his head. “He’s probably at O’Reilly’s, making sure his favorite stool doesn’t fly away.”

“I don’t know how he still has a job.” He felt Kay’s eyes on him. “Listen. Talk to you later, okay? We just got here.”

“Sure. Later, man. See you, Kay. You’re looking nice.”

“Frank.” Her hair bobbed as she gave him a short nod that was barely polite.

“Why were you giving Frank the stink-eye?” he asked, as they made their way to the refreshments table.

“I don’t like him.” She lowered her voice, as if she were going to divulge a terrible secret. “Some people think he’s gay.”

He nearly choked on a cup of tepid punch. “Oh. Is that a problem?”

In fact, he knew Frank was gay. They were both on the soccer team in the spring, and one day before practice, Frank had stood up while they were dressing, had announced that he was sick and damn tired of living in the closet, he was gay, and that if anyone had a problem with that, he was willing to throw down right then and there. Since Frank was six-four, lifted three days a week, had a bit of a temper issue, and was the best halfback on the team, no one said jack s**t. Though he also asked them, rather pointedly, to keep it to themselves until he said otherwise.

Which they had wisely done.

Kay’s nose wrinkled in distaste. “Our pastor says it’s wrong. People should make babies. And two guys? Doing it? Yuck.”

Danny wisely kept to himself his opinion that two girls doing it was one of the sexiest things he could think of. He doubted Kay would appreciate it. “I don’t see how it matters to you. I mean,” he said, flashing what he hoped was a charming smile, “no one’s asking you to watch.”

“It’s a sin.” Her firm jaw set mulishly.

Danny felt a surge of temper. His family wasn’t religious, but they did occasionally go to the local Church of Christ. And Frank was a teammate and friend. “I always liked the New Testament,” he said quietly. “The part that was about love and forgiveness. You know. Jesus and his friends. Until he got nailed to a tree for saying how nice it would be if everyone treated each other decently.”

Debbie drew in a deep breath, her eyes flashing, when a cool voice cut across the upcoming tirade. “Hello, kids. Having a nice time?”

“Mrs. Murphy?” His jaw dropped.

It was his teacher, but as he looked at her, he felt the world had slipped slightly sideways. He had always known, in a vague sort of way, that Mrs. Murphy was attractive. But she seemed to go out of the way to avoid it. Not that she slobbed around, by any means. But her clothes were always plain and functional, if stylish. Beige skirts and slacks; tasteful, understated blouses. A little jewelry, but not much.