Dirty Life's Dirty History

14 February, 1983

The worse part, for Jack, had been asking for help. He'd planned ahead on what to say to Ruth and Charlie, but he approached Charlie first with it, as Charlie intimidated him less. Charlie had agreed, and Jack found himself sneaking around late on a weeknight with a couple that had no intention of selling him drugs, for once in his life.

It succeeded.

Jack didn't know what was really appropriate for a Valentine's Day with a girl like Claire, and he'd certainly never celebrated one before, with anyone else. So he hoped he'd done enough. There was a card he'd made in his car and hidden there for a week, enough flowers to (hopefully) make her happy, and if he'd fucked up somehow, there was always dinner.

( Anyway, Claire wasn’t exactly in the best mood. )

Autumn of 1980.

“Have you ever kissed anyone?”

Claire looked at Avery. Her legs were resting on the small shelf behind her bed, one foot wiggling in time to an invisible song as she put down the book she had been reading to address her best friend’s question with rapt attention and a thorough answer.

“Just my family,” she said, rolling onto her stomach. Her hips ground into the book’s spine and she winced. After a careful extraction, she settled more comfortably in front of Avery and let her ankles lock together.

“That doesn’t count,” Avery said. “I mean like, y’know, a kiss kiss. Because at my school everyone’s always snogging in the halls.”

( Claire made a face. )