This Is Our Story Ch 09

Undoing the damage proved to be a lot less possible than the impossibility of doing it in the first place. Hours of trying every option and shortcut key combination he could think of left Conner certain that TIOS simply wasn't going to let him undo things. He remembered there had been some kind of warning message that had popped up when he first created his account; at the time, he'd clicked right through it, but it certainly hadn't mentioned anything about un-altering reality. Like with the picture swap of Hailey and Hayleigh, Angelica and Heather were stuck with the consequences of what he'd done. Heather and her trust in Conner were one thing, but Angelica... He'd erased the completion of her high school diploma. (Save for the physical document, that is, which she now kept in a drawer to keep her parents from freaking out if they looked too closely at it.) As if that weren't bad enough, Conner had turned her into his best friend's fuck buddy. Every chance she got, she was with Owen, doing who-knows-what to get at his you-know-what.

Still, the talk with Miss C had done a lot to clear his head. Things had gone so screwy there for a while that he'd started looking at TIOS as a way to distort the preservation of memories, rather than preserve them as intended - or where appropriate, skew them for the better. From here on out, he was make this year's memories worthy of being remembered. After the talk with Miss C, Conner reread the old file of his story about the tornado from three years ago, and he thought he could see what she had been talking about. It was a story of tragedy that centered on hope for the future and the spirit of togetherness that got the community through it.

If TIOS was going to let him tell his version of things, that was the version he wanted to tell. But first things first.

It was time to break it off with Hailey.

Conner was waiting for her in their spot under the stage before school. She came in rarin' to go, removing her shirt the instant she'd closed the door behind her and working on her jeans as she approached their mat. "Your slut is so wet for you, Conner. I hope you're ready to fuck my hot wet pussy..."

That face. That hair. Those tits. That voice. The desperation to please him. Maybe just one more...?

No. He had to do this now. Be strong. "Hold on, Hailey."

She knelt in front of him, though since he was sitting cross-legged, she was just a little taller than him. She left half of the front clasp of her bra done up, giving the garment the appearance that it was eager to give its contents to him. "Um, OK. Is everything all right?"

"I just wanted to talk."

Those words, evidently, were all too familiar to a devoted watcher of rom coms and chick flicks. The girl winced, speaking in a small voice. "You're breaking up with me, aren't you?"

"Well, technically we were never officially going out, so..." Conner stopped himself. He'd never broken up with anyone before, so he didn't quite know how to go about it. Nevertheless, even he knew technicalities were not the way to go.

"What did I do wrong? Is it... is it because I'm..." She hastily refastened the clasp, then scurried away to retrieve her blouse and hastily put it back on.

"No! No, Hailey, you didn't do anything wrong, and your looks have nothing to do with it. I genuinely find you very attractive, hand to god. Come on. Have I ever once held back from touching you?"

She began tearing up, sniffling. "I tried to be what you wanted me to be. Didn't I?"

"Hailey, I never wanted you to be anything but yourself. And if I pressured you into anything you didn't want to do, I'm sorry, honest. But that's kind of it - we dove into all this

so

fast, and I think it got away from both of us."

"I... I thought you liked all that stuff."

"I did! I mean, I think I did. I'm not actually, um, very experienced." He took a breath. "OK, before you, I had practically

no

experience. Which I think is why the sudden craziness kind of... overwhelmed me, I guess you could say."

"I can slow it down! I mean, I only ever wanted to make you happy. I don't have to act like that if it weirds you out." She sniffled.

"Wait, that was... I thought you were doing that for my benefit."

"Kind of? I don't know, I just started and it felt good, and... I could totally stop, though!"

Inwardly Conner felt some small relief. It had felt like he'd pressured into becoming that. Knowing she had been doing it for her own enjoyment took the edge off. "It's not that, Hailey. All the sex stuff, that was... amazing. But it was just too much, too soon, I think."

"God, I'm such a freak."

"You're not a freak, Hailey. You're a really nice person, and if you get a little wild, that's a bonus."

Another sniffle. "But you don't want me."

"Look, I'm not saying anything was bad - only that it was a little too fast for me. That's all. I just want to kind of hit the brakes, go back to being friends for a while and then see." He didn't really intend to get back with her, but she didn't need to know that now. And he didn't want to rule it out altogether; after all, she was a beautiful girl and a great sexual partner, and maybe once he was able to see past that, he might someday feel differently about her.

Hailey looked down, nodded. Like a prisoner accepting her fate. "It's... it's not another girl, is it?"

Conner smiled. "It's definitely not another girl." Yes, he was interested in Heather, but that would probably never happen.

Hailey fell silent then, and Conner scooted over and put an arm around her shoulders and let her cry. The bell for first period rang, but his pristine record could weather another tardy. Hailey nestled in against him. "You're sure you don't want to...? You know, just one last time."

Conner almost literally had to bite his tongue. Boy, did he ever. But whatever Angelica and Owen were up to, he didn't want a fuck buddy. The temptation had arisen from raging teenage hormones and a bit of jealousy. As he took the time to think it over, he had realized that as hot as it sounded, it wasn't what he wanted. He wanted a real woman, with her own thoughts and feelings, who could enjoy herself as much as he could.

"I do, god help me I do, but... I couldn't use you like that, Hailey."

"I don't mind. It's not using if I don't mind, right?"

"But I would."

She sighed. "You know, we never even kissed?"

Conner gave his head a shake. "What? Of course we did! I mean... we must have. I'm sure of it."

"Nuh-uh. I mean, we kissed

parts

of each other. But nope. Never on the mouth."

How could that be? She had to be wrong. Conner tried to think of an instance, but try as he might, he couldn't come up with one. It only reaffirmed his decision; his fling with Hailey had been all about pleasure, not about intimacy.

"Wow. You know, I think you're right. Um... should we? Just to avoid an awkward gap in our sexual checklist.

That

I wouldn't mind." He smiled.

She didn't. "But I would."

With that, she was making her way back out of their space. "Hailey... Look, I-"

"It's OK. I gave you a lot of my firsts, but I think I'd like to keep this one." And like that, she was gone.

*************************

And like that, things were back to normal, and Conner's life was back to its usual uncomplicated self.

Well, not entirely normal, and not completely lacking complications. Angelica began riding to and from school with her little stepbrother and Owen everyday. While Owen wasn't crass enough to fool around with her right in front of him, he didn't miss the flirtatious whispering, double entendres and innuendo. Most days the two went straight over to Owen's to work off a solid day of Angelica's pent-up lust, but once they were done - or rather, once Owen was done with Angelica - he and Conner could hang out like they used to. Sometimes Angelica would even join them, though Conner put his foot down if she tried to get something started. Besides, she'd already had a busy social calendar of her own, and reverting to a high school student hadn't changed that. Angelica, who was definitely one of the prettier seniors, even wound up as part of that clique, though she didn't invest in them much outside of school hours, between her own friends and her attachment to Owen.

As for Hailey, things with her ended entirely that morning under the stage. She'd say hi to him in the hallway, but she didn't try to talk to him, sit with him, or otherwise pursue him like she used to. Happily, matters with the real Hayleigh McKnight soon went back to normal, too, which is to say she forgot he'd ever existed and went back to ruling the school. Conner alone saw through the façade to the new body she inhabited; even Owen, who could see Hayleigh in Hailey, hadn't penetrated the rest of the illusion, and insisted he had no desire to. Though he could somehow effortlessly distinguish between the two, he didn't seem to mind living in a world with two Hayleigh McKnights to admire.

He and Heather continued working on the yearbook spread about the yearbook staff, or as she called it, the meta-spread. Conner learned to watch what he said around her, but it was easier than he'd thought it might be at first. He wasn't a dishonest person or prone to hyperbole. As long as he was careful, he didn't risk having her believe that the earth was flat or the like. Once in a while he slipped up (like the one time he joked that he thought the cafeteria might be poisoning the ketchup packets), but he figured if she stopped eating cafeteria ketchup, it wouldn't do her any harm.

Meanwhile, he was getting to know her better every week. He found out she'd been on the A honor roll every semester since sixth grade. That if she kept it up through graduation, she was set up with a full ride. That she'd briefly dated Jordan, but only twice and he'd cried when she said she didn't want to continue. That she rode horses, was allergic to shellfish, was an unabashed

Survivor

fan... He got to know her.

Things were pretty good.

Sure, he was back to being frustrated at having a class with his dream girl and seeming to have no real shot, but compared to staving off the temptation to enslave an innocent girl, it was a laughable problem. With less time spent goofing off with Owen and with Angelica as a viable study partner, his grades were up. Miss C had taken to mentoring him much more closely, and she did a lot to help him delegate. As such, the staff was doing a much better job of meeting and exceeding expectations. If Jordan was still a pain in his ass, at least the levels of it had receded to normal.

It surprised him, but somehow simply knowing he'd had sex with one of the hottest girls in school, even if no one else knew, had done wonders to help him ignore the small stuff. It was hard to feel down about yourself when you had great accomplishments like that to fall back on.

As for TIOS, he was much more careful about what he did with it. In fact, as another benefit to his new skills of delegation, more of what went into it came from the staff, who lacked his "editor-in-chief" privileges with the software. If they fudged a quote or mis-tagged a photo, nobody's life was turned upside-down. He spot checked things, with some assistance from Miss C, and was generally pleased with what he found. In fact, when his teacher praised the class's efforts and said they were the most talented yearbook staff she'd had the opportunity to teach, Conner went ahead and quoted it in the meta-spread. If it somehow transformed the quality of their work, what of it? He didn't mind the "risk" of allowing TIOS to heap a little extra talent on his dedicated staff.

As for his own work, whenever Conner wrote a spread or modified captions and layouts, he double-checked to be certain it could have no unpleasant side effects. Where possible, he even tried to nudge things for the better. There was no way of knowing that including a quote from Cassandra Mullineks about how proud she was of her teammates for their performance at cross country regionals actually did anything. If it did make her a more committed team captain, a more passionate Northside Nighthawk, he called it a win. He tried to find quotes that reflected the best face of Northside; the benefits to his peers' struggles; the hopes they had for their futures.

"It was such a gorgeous day," said Doris Simpson of the fall bazaar that year. It was one of the school's big fundraisers. People from the community sold baked goods, arts and crafts, fresh produce, and so on, and the school reaped a portion of the proceeds. That year, the weather had been abysmal, near freezing and windy. But Doris Simpson had been selling her handmade birdhouses at the NHS bazaar for close to forty years, and she loved having a day to interact with the kids and customers. To her, it was always a gorgeous day. The next day in the darkroom, Conner developed his pictures and wondered at the sight of a brilliant sun shining on people throning the bazaar without even the need for a jacket. The spread helpfully readjusted the figure on the amount raised to reflect the increased revenue.

Thanksgiving came and went. That year, Owen joined the Fisher family for the holiday meal. Conner kicked him under the table when, in front of everyone, he said that this year he was thankful for solid yearbook writing. His mother laughed it off and his stepdad just reached for the gravy boat. Angelica rolled her eyes, but Conner had felt her foot between Owen's legs during the kick.

Then it was back to school for the final three weeks before winter break.

*************************

"Dude, when are you gonna stop being such a pussy and just ask Heather out?"

They'd just pulled into the parking lot, stuck behind the usual line of students filtering into the dwindling number of parking spaces. Not far off, Conner had caught sight of Heather entering the building, smiling her radiant smile as she laughed with one of her friends. Then the car behind him had honked to get him moving again, and then Owen had re-stated the advice he'd been giving almost daily for months.

"I'm just waiting for the right moment," Conner muttered back, prying his eyes off Heather's departing backside. "You can't just walk up to a girl like Heather Blake and go 'hey, let's go out sometime!'"

"Uh, yeah you can. In fact, that's exactly what you do," Angelica said from the back seat. (Conner had long since had to veto letting the two of them ride back there together.)

Owen pressed the point. "She's right. You can't sit around holding your dick in your hands, waiting for that day when you find her sitting alone in a park at the stroke of midnight weeping at the beauty of the full moon and wishing she had someone to share it with."

"That's poetic," Conner retorted. "Write that one in to Hallmark. And why am I even taking relationship advice from a guy who only gets play because of a software glitch?"

"It's not a bug; it's a feature," retorted Angelica, peevish as ever about having her behavior attributed to a god-computer. "Now quit dodging the issue, Goner."

"What, that I need to go ahead and bite the bullet with Heather? Do you even know where that expression comes from?"

She rolled her eyes. "First of all, nobody cares where that or any expression comes from. Second of all, that's not the issue. The issue is that Owen and I are sick to death of dealing with your mopery over this girl. Find out if you have a chance, and if not, find somewhere else to stick it already."

"Yeah, I bet Hailey would still take you back. I know you think she got cold towards you after the breakup, but not like she's got other prospects, and not like you have better ones."

"Except Heather, you mean, right?" Conner grumbled.

"Sure, let's say that's what I meant." Owen elbowed him gently in the ribs.

"I know I don't say this often enough, but shut up, both of you."

As it turned out, Conner did not ask Heather out that day. He spent the whole interim between his morning pep talk with Angelica and Owen right up until last period with Miss C psyching himself up for it. Then there was a fire alarm right before journalism that only left them half the period by the time everyone got back inside. The next day he repeated the process, but she was out on a field trip for her Spanish class. Wednesday he was home sick with a flu bug that was going around, and Thursday he was back but was still kind of a mess and didn't want to make his move at a disadvantage. By Friday, he figured she probably had her weekend already planned out, so he just let it slide for one more day.

He had more excuses for the next week, though most were even weaker.

Then it was finals week. Angelica was in a particularly foul mood; much of the material on her finals was stuff she'd forgotten years ago when she'd still been in high school. Conner was doing his best to tutor her, but her attitude didn't make it any easier. He got annoyed enough with her that he nearly stooped to asking Owen to cut her off until she stepped up her game, but he didn't trust his friend's willingness to abstain for a couple days.

"Are you going to take this seriously, or should I just stop wasting my time?" he said, exasperated after his stepsister had taken to doing her workout routine while he went over notes from government class.

"Oh, a lecture on wasting time from the guy who's been too chicken for two months and counting to ask some girl out." She snorted and resumed doing her tummy crunches.

"There's only two days before winter break starts. It'd be awkward now. After break, I'll do it."

Angelica sighed, coming to a rest on her back and looking up at him while somehow giving the impression it was she who was looking down at him. "Look. You know I don't like to meddle in your personal life, because I don't really care, but hey. I appreciate you're trying to help me out of the mess you made of my life, so I'll throw you a bone."

"Gee, thanks."

"Hush. Now, as someone who finished high school in a previous life, let me tell you something you clearly don't know about your senior year. Right now, you're taking your finals, studying hard, hangin' with your peeps, business as usual. But after Christmas break, you're going to go back and suddenly everyone's going to realize that the finish line is right up ahead. It's all coming to an end."

Conner didn't know what to say to that, so he let her continue. "And what you - and more importantly, what your would-be girlfriend Heather - are going to realize is that there's no more point living like high school matters. Which, even ignoring how it'll change stuff in school, means you can expect everyone to start breaking up. Everyone. Right now, people are dating because they're together all day every day so may as well find a steady slam piece. But in three weeks as they round the bend and that finish line comes into sight... Suddenly high school will be quaint, and people are gonna be leaping into their futures and not miring themselves in their presents."

"So why ask her out if she's just going to dump me in three weeks anyway?"

"Assuming she says yes," she said wryly. "But my point is, if you want to ever have a shot with her, you gotta do that shit now while life still feels normal. You wait for her to realize she's got a cute future husband waiting for her at college, and she's his, not yours."

Done with her counseling, she went back to exercising. Conner gave himself a moment, then resumed flipped the page in his notebook.

*************************

Miss C's final was on Thursday; she'd set aside Friday for a holiday party for the staff. The editor-in-chief was a quick test-taker on the best of days, and this was unsurprisingly his best class. He was the first one done, and with permission from a smiling Miss C, excused himself to the computer lab to get some work done for the rest of the period. His actual plan was to formulate a time and place to pop the question to Heather. Not only did Owen and Angelica make good points, but he also figured that if it was going to make things awkward, better to have a long break to forget about it.