“It’s not funny!” Allison hissed, casting an uneasy glance toward Mrs. Hammond, who had come outside the choir room to investigate.

“Is there any reason you two are so apprehensive of entering my domicile?” she asked in dramatic tones that were wholly unnecessary.

“We just have a few things to talk over,” Ben said.

The look of pleasant amusement fell from Mrs. Hammond’s face. Ben might be her star pupil, but her own ego came first. “What, exactly, is more important than my class?” she insisted, all theatrical traces now gone from her voice.

“The talent show,” Ben said, thinking fast. This was Mrs. Hammond’s favorite subject. She had high hopes for them to win last year until a tonsillectomy took Ben’s voice out the week of the show. Since then she mentioned the following year’s competition almost daily. “It’s not more important, of course. It’s just that I had a few ideas last night and--”

“Say no more!” Mrs. Hammond trilled, her mood instantly favorable again. “The talent show! Well! If you two would rather practice today, the auditorium next door is empty.”

After a few comments engineered to make Mrs. Hammond feel good about herself, they were able to escape to the privacy of the auditorium. Allison flopped down in one of the chairs and aimed an expectant look at him.

“Just talk him out of it,” Ben said easily. “Tell him that it’s a sweet but horrible idea and that will be the end of it.”

“What do you think I was doing during lunch? He kept smiling at me as if I was exaggerating things for my own amusement.”

“Even after having his car pelted by a whisky bottle?”

“He acts like he didn’t even notice.” Allison frowned. “Now I wish it had busted out one of his windows or something.”

“I guess some lessons need to be learned the hard way.”

Ben smiled sympathetically, a gesture Allison didn’t reciprocate. Instead her frown increased and her forehead wrinkled with concern. “I’m really worried about Ronnie,” she said. “You know my dad. He gets crazier and meaner every year. I need your help.”

Ben shrugged and nodded, indicating that he would do whatever she needed.

“Come over tonight,” she pleaded. “When Ronnie’s there I want you there, too.”

“Yeah, right.” Ben’s chuckle faltered when he saw that she was being serious. “And this is going to keep your dad calm, how?”

“He won’t be calm no matter what happens, but he’s much less likely to do something stupid with other people around.”

Rubbing his forehead wearily, Ben paced back and forth a few times. “If you want a witness to keep the situation in check, maybe you should try the police.”

Allison didn’t respond, choosing instead to wait for a definitive answer.

“All right. I’ll be there. When?”

“At six. Or a little before, so you are there before Ronnie shows up. Here…” Allison dug in her purse and pulled out her wallet. “You can bring this to me. That will be your excuse for being there. There’s one other thing.”

“What’s that?” he asked apprehensively.

“You totally just entered us in the talent contest a few minutes ago.”

Ben rolled his eyes and smiled. “Wonderful.”

* * * * *

Five minutes before six, Ben walked up the driveway of Allison’s home with increasing trepidation about this plan. He was certain that his presence would only serve to aggravate Mr. Cross further, but he couldn’t get out of it now. He had promised Allison and had no choice but to follow through.

The door swung open before he could knock. Allison put one finger to her lips to indicate that he should stay quiet and waved him into the house.

“I don’t want dad to know you’re here until Ronnie shows up,” she whispered.

“That makes sense,” Ben muttered.

They crept into the living room and sat together on the comfortable burgundy couch. The living room, like most of the house, was warmly decorated and very inviting. Little had changed since Mrs. Cross died eight years ago. Ben had few memories of her, but remembered her being as expressive and friendly as her daughter. He wondered how someone like her had ended up with the man she married. Was Mr. Cross a different man back then? Was it the death of his wife that transformed him into the domineering brute he was today?

The doorbell rang, causing both Allison and Ben to jump.

“Aren’t you going to get it?” he asked her when she didn’t move.

“Nope. I’m grounded.”

Shivers went down Ben’s spine as footsteps came tromping from the hallway behind them. There was a pause when they neared, before they continued quicker than before.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Mr. Cross grumbled as he entered the room and saw Ben.

“He brought me my wallet.” Allison nudged Ben, prompting him to dig it out of his pocket. “I left it at school today.”

Mr. Cross scowled and started to say something, but the doorbell interrupted him. Shaking his head, he marched to the door and threw it open. “Yes?”

“Mr. Cross?” A figure could just barely be seen beyond Allison’s father.

“Who the hell are you?”

“I’m Ronnie Adams. Your daughter’s boyfriend, sir.”

The door began to shut. “She’s grounded!”

“I’m here to talk to you, sir. About your daughter. Please.”

Mr. Cross stood there in silence, momentarily unsure how to react. Finally he stepped out of the way, allowing Ronnie to enter.

Ben hadn’t seen Ronnie since biology class last year and was unaware how much he had changed. Ronnie had always been moderately attractive in a grunge sort of way, but now he had come into his own. The shoulder-length dreadlocks had been culled, revealing a handsome face with even features. The concert T-shirts and ratty jeans were gone, replaced by trendier clothing that fit closer to his body. He had either been working out or the oversized shirts of yesterday had disguised his nice pecs and narrow waist.

“Do you know this person, Alli?” Mr. Cross demanded as they neared the couch.

“Yes, he’s the guy you threw a whisky bottle at,” Allison said.

Ben held his breath, waiting for an explosion, but instead Mr. Cross apologized reluctantly to Ronnie.

“It’s okay. It didn’t do any damage, sir,” Ronnie said politely.

He was being a bit too cordial, in Ben’s opinion, but it had gotten him this far, which was more than he had expected.

“I can understand why you were angry,” Ronnie continued. “I should have asked permission to take your daughter out.”

“Well, that’s why she’s in trouble,” Mr. Cross huffed, working himself up. “She won’t be going out with anyone for some time.”

“I understand, sir,” Ronnie responded calmly. “I respect your authority. I just felt I should come by to apologize and to introduce myself properly.”

Mr. Cross eyed Ronnie suspiciously. “You can’t stay. She’s grounded.”

“That’s fair. I’ll be on my way then.” Ronnie held out his hand to Mr. Cross, who took it after a moment’s hesitation. “Maybe once Allison is no longer grounded, you would allow me to take her out again? This time with your permission?”

Multiple expressions fought for dominance on Mr. Cross’s face until it settled on perplexed acquiesce. “That might be possible.”

“Thank you, sir,” Ronnie said with one final handshake. He spared a single nod and smile at Allison before he headed for the door.

As soon as the front door was shut, Mr. Cross wheeled around and pointed an accusatory finger at Ben. “You think it’s funny, saying my daughter is with you when she’s out with a stranger?”

“No,” Ben answered, trying not to make eye contact.

“You’re damn right it’s not!” Mr. Cross boomed.

“Dad,” Allison interjected. “It wasn’t his idea. It was mine!”

“But he was happy enough to go along with it!” Mr. Cross countered, refusing to take his eyes off of Ben. “I bet you think you’re real smart, pulling the wool over my eyes, don’t you?”