•✦─Autumn, 1955─✦•
Jean, age 17
Over the summer leading up to her senior year, Jean had continued to mature. She finally looked like a woman and decided to highlight that fact by changing her clothes.
Gone were the frilly, modest dresses of her youth, form-fitting, sleek blouses and skirts taking their place. She modeled her outfits by what she saw some of her favorite celebrities wearing—after Marylin Monroe and Audrey Hepburn and Elizabeth Taylor.
Her outfits frequently caught stares and glares, but she didn't care. She felt comfortable and confident, and that was all that mattered.
On the day of Mrs. Mayberry's Thanksgiving feast for the ranch hands, Jean caught an awful lot of stares.
Jean was used to being eyed by the ranch hands. She rather liked it, in fact. Made her feel powerful. She knew they liked her, and could use that to her advantage if she wanted to.
"Oh, my glass is empty," she could say. Someone would fill her glass with cider in seconds.
Sometimes, it was very powerful being a woman.
The cherry on top was that among the eyes that adorned her was Jory fresh from college. He was leaning up against a fence post with jeans and a leather jacket on, looking like he had assimilated back into ranch life quite well with his Stetson hat and a beer bottle in hand.
She'd been waiting for him to notice her since the second he strolled in from his long drive from university. When he finally spotted her, his eyes were all over her, climbing up her body at a slow, steady pace. Like ivy on a tree—the kind that slowly choked the tree by cutting off its oxygen.
Jean's red lips quirked into a smile as she excused herself from the group of men surrounding her and strutted up to him.
"Hi, Jory," she greeted, placing herself in front of him. "It's been a while."
Jory nodded. "A very long while, it seems." His eyes drifted back down her body before snapping up to her face once more. "Little Sally Jean grew up," he noted, tipping his bottle towards her.
"She did. And she still goes by 'Jean.'"
"I'm not calling you that," he said bluntly, taking a swig of beer. "You'll always be Sally Jean to me."
His words prickled at her, making her inwardly frown. He made it sound like she'd always be a kid in his eyes.
"Go ahead, call me Sally Jean," she told him, "but don't expect me to respond."
He chuckled to himself. "Still as fiery as ever, I see. You've been givin' my brothers hell?"
"Everyday."
"Good. Glad to see you haven't changed too much."
"Jory!" Clyde called out, nearing the two. He clapped Jory on the shoulder when he approached, nearly stumbling. He'd been drinking, Jean noticed "I didn't see you come in!"
"Probly 'cause you've been down in a bottle, Clyde," Jory joked. "You better start soberin' up before Ma sees you."
Clyde ignored him, turning to Jean. "Come on, Jean, I've got some beer in the stable if you want some."
"Don't go gettin' her in trouble," Jory said.
Clyde laughed. "Oh, Jory, you've been gone too long. It's Jean that gets me in trouble, now." He slipped an arm around her waist. "Go with me?"
Jean nodded, eyes still on Jory. "Sure, Clyde." She let Clyde pull her away, sending Jory a smirk before turning to face the direction her feet were walking. "Who's all here?" she asked Clyde.
"The usual. Kurt, Rodger, Gloria, and Peggy. They invited a few other people, of course. I didn't know some of them, but I did see Bernie Bilson and his sister and—" he scowled suddenly, "—and Vincent." He spat the name like it was a curse, rolling his eyes.
Over the months Jean had been going with Vincent Renner, Clyde had made his distaste for the couple very well known. It was clear in his unconcealed glares and sly comments, and he always did his best to wedge himself in between the two when he could.
It bothered Jean. She was quite taken with Vincent, in the same way she had been taken with Ed Whitington. Even if she didn't get to see Vincent very often because he worked long hours at the garage in town, she still felt like the world was hers for the taking when he'd say her name over the phone or she'd feel his touch on her skin.
They locked eyes the second they entered the stable, Vincent pushing off of a stall he'd been leaning against, bringing him and his greased-back black hair and beer bottle towards her.
"Hey, doll," he moved to draw her in for a kiss, but Clyde pulled her away.
"Here, Jean," he said, "the beer's this way!"
She slipped out of his hold to grab Vincent by the collar and pull his lips down towards hers for a brief kiss. A boy nearby whistled at them, others laughing.
Jean ignored them. "I didn't know you'd be coming," she said when she pulled back.
Vincent shrugged, snaking an arm around her waist. "Bernie invited me. Couldn't pass up free beer at the Mayberry's."
"Yeah, you don't seem like the type that would," a voice called out behind them.
Jean's heart jumped, her head jerking back to see Jory standing in the entranceway to the stables, smirking. He sauntered in with his beer bottle in hand, eyeing Jean and Vincent.
"Sally Jean," he said, "why don't you introduce me to your friend?" He nodded toward Vincent, looking amused.
Jean squirmed before swallowing down her sudden bout of shyness and lifting her chin. "Right. Jory, this is my boyfriend, Vincent Renner. Vince, this is Clyde's brother, Jory Mayberry."
Vincent didn't seem too keen on meeting Jory, his eyes narrowed. A quick glance to her right would show that Jory reflected the man's unspoken sentiments, despite the smirk on his lips.
Peggy intervened before Jean got the chance to say anything.
"Jean!" she exclaimed, smelling of alcohol as she hugged the girl. "There you are. You should come with us to the barn." She giggled suddenly. "Kurt and Rodger are talkin' about playin' truth or dare!"
"Yeah!" Kurt called out from behind her, lugging a case of beer as he and the group of teens moved towards the exit. "And you're welcome to join too, Mayberry!"
Jory laughed under his breath. "You lot can go on without me. I'm too old for that kind of stuff."
Jean eyed him. "'Too old?' Or too scared?" she asked.
"Yeah, you scared, City Boy?" Clyde teased.
He scoffed. "You challengin' me, Clyde?"
"He might not be, but I am," Jean interjected.
Jory held her eyes as he finished off the rest of his beer. "Alright," he said once he was done, tossing the beer onto a bale of hay to the side. "I'll play." He waved a finger between the two of them, "but you better be ready. I'm pickin' you two every time."
•✦───✧✦✧───✦•
Jory stayed true to his word, taking turns picking Jean and Clyde each time it was his turn.
Jean kept picking truth and hadn't backed down from any of his horrible questions.
So far, she'd had to recount embarrassing stories like the time Rudy caught her practicing kissing on her hand when she was twelve, or when she ripped her pants clean off in a riding accident when she was nine.
Clyde had to tell similar stories but didn't have as strong of a resolve as Jean. He'd forfeited on most of his turns and was down half a bottle of beer.
They took their revenge by embarrassing Jory as well, taking and receiving shots with him until someone broke their pattern.
"Jean," Bernie called out, nearly three sheets to the wind from all the dares he'd turned down with a swig of liquor. He grinned at her. "Dare or dare?"
Jean frowned in amusement. "Has all that alcohol turned your brain to mush, Bilson? It's truth or dare."
"I know," he said, "but you keep choosing truth."
"And what's wrong with that?"
"It's no fun!"
"Oh, just let her choose truth, Bilson," Gloria said. "Jean's too chicken to choose dare." She spoke the words swiftly, casually—like she wasn't trying to antagonize.
The circle sounded with low-toned "oooohs," and Bernie laughed.
"D'you hear that, Jean?" he asked. "Gloria called you a chicken! You really gonna let her think that?"
Jean felt her pride well up inside her, tangling with her determination as she stared at Gloria. "I choose dare, then."
Bernie rubbed his hands together, ready with anticipation to announce her dare. "Jean," he said boldly, "I dare you to strip to your underthings and jump into the lake."
The group went silent as Jean's face blanched, and then two voices rose in protest.
"Hell no!" Clyde yelled out. "She's not doin' that!"
"Bilson, I'll gladly knock some sense into you if you're having that much trouble knowing how to speak to Sally Jean," Jory threatened.
Bernie shriveled back, pressing his lips together as Vincent bumped Jean with his shoulder, smiling at her.
"You gonna drink, or am I finally gonna get to see your goodies?"
Gloria laughed. "You won't see anything, Jean's not gonna do it."
"Oh, yes I will," Jean said defiantly.
Jory and Clyde stared at her.
"What?" Clyde asked. "No, you're not."
Jean frowned and stood up, slipping off her overcoat and tossing it to the side as she walked towards the barn doors.
"Watch me," she said over her shoulder.
The group scrambled after her, Jory and Clyde coming to flank her sides.
"Jean, you better not do this!" Clyde demanded.
Jean glared at him. "Oh, can it, Clyde. It's not like I'm stripping naked. It'll be as if I'm wearing my swimming suit."
"I'm not lettin' you do this."
She ignored him, making a sharp right towards the lake that cut through the backside of Mayberry Ranch, determination fueling her.
"Jean—"
"Stop, Clyde," Jory said. "You can't force her to bend to your will."
Jean glanced at him, pursing her lips. "And you? Aren't you gonna try and do the same?" Strangely, she wanted him to. She wanted him to be cross with her, at the idea of her half-naked in front of all those boys.
It would mean that he cared.
He shrugged. "If I did, would you even listen to me? Or would you just do the opposite of what I tell you?"
She smirked. "What do you think?"
"That's what I thought."
Jean began removing her earrings and necklace as she neared the docks, holding them out for Jory to pocket in his jeans.
Once she hit the boards of the dock, she kicked her shoes aside. The crowd gathered behind her, watching next as her fingers found the buttons of her blouse.
"Sally Jean," Jory said lowly, eyes strictly on her face as he and Clyde moved to shield her from view, "say the word, and I'll send them all away. You won't have to follow through with the dare because I'll kick them out."
Jean's fingers slowed at her navel, but she kept on, shaking her head. "No. I need to put Gloria in her place."
Jory sighed, shaking his head. "Figured you'd say that." He turned around, facing the group. "Alright, boys, put your backs to Sally Jean!" he called out.
The boys all groaned, sneaking one, last peek at her before they reluctantly turned around. All except for Vincent.
"Hey, you, too," Jory grumbled, stepping into his line of sight.
"What?" Vincent protested. "She's my girl. I should get to see her."
"Not while I'm here, you won't."
"Yeah, turn it around, Renner," Clyde joined in.
"Jean," Vincent called out. "Come on, talk some sense into them."
Jean's blood boiled. Why wasn't he angry with her? Or trying to stop her?
Jean turned around as she shed her shirt, Peggy coming to take it from her. "Only the girls can look," she said, unbuttoning her skirt next.
She heard him protest as she removed her thick stockings next, standing in nothing but her brassiere and girdle with the clasps of her garter belt hanging at her thighs.
"Are you sure about this?" Peggy asked as she neatly folded Jean's clothes into a stack.
Jean looked out at her crowd, all the boys' backs to her while the girls watched on, three of them huddled into a little group with Gloria staring her down in contempt.
"I'm sure." She shot Gloria a smile before running down the length of the dock and jumping in, her body lighting up in shock from the icy coldness, her breaths thinned out the second she breached the surface, desperate to get warm as her teeth chattered with the bite of winter.
Clyde was there with closed eyes to lend a hand and help her onto the docks. Jean shivered once she was standing, the gentle breeze that had played with her hair on the way to the lake becoming her enemy as it nipped at her skin.
"Here," a jacket was thrust towards her, Jean looking to see Jory with his eyes trained on the moon peeking through the daytime.
His eyes swept back down towards hers when she had the jacket wrapped around herself, the wool-lined sleeves swallowing her hands.
"Thank you," she said, fighting the urge to stare at his arms. He wore a white t-shirt, his tanned, muscled arms bulging out of it. They'd gotten bigger than the last time she had seen him, probably because of the construction job he had taken over the summer.
He was so handsome; it almost hurt to look at him.
Clyde took a step forward to divert Jean's attention, pulling her into his side and rubbing his hands up and down her arms to generate warmth.
"Come on," he said, "let's get you warmed up." He pulled her away from Jory, but her mind didn't leave the man as easily.
She kept thinking about him as Clyde led her back to the barn, and her thoughts persisted well into the nighttime when she was sleepless in bed.
She couldn't stop thinking about what Jory thought of her.
And wondered what she could do to make him hers.
•✦───✧✦✧───✦•
2,401 words.
Question: Do you currently own a puppy?
So, my brother got a puppy for his birthday, and the little sucker has been driving me nuts. He's always messing up the house, he whines, he chews, and he absolutely terrorizes my poor, senior dogs to the point that they try to hide from him.
The most annoying part, however? He's really cute, y'all. I can't stay mad at him because he'll just look up at me with his stupid little eyes and I'll start feeling bad and then start petting him even though he woke me up at the buttcrack of dawn howling and then pissed all over the floor and tracked it everywhere.
Btw, if you want to know how my other dogs look at him when he enters a room, this is a great example:
PLEASE VOTE AND COMMENT TO MAKE ME SMILE!!!