Free Debutante Hill by Lois Duncan

time move so slowly. The stories went on and on in a kind of monotonous hum, first one girl telling one and then another. The boys began to talk about automobiles. Lynn, who was never interested in automobiles, even when Paul was talking about them, transferred her attention to Greta, who was sitting across from her.
    Greta caught her eye and giggled.
    â€œLynn Chambers remembered me,” she said to the girl next to her. “Can you beat that? She remembered me.”
    The girl, who was older than Greta and Lynn, frowned in concentration.
    â€œWho’s Lynn Chambers?”
    â€œThat girl over there. The one with Dirky. She remembered me.”
    The older girl gave Lynn a half-apologetic look. “Don’t
worry about her. She gets like this—sort of giggly and silly.”
    Lynn said, “That’s all right.”
    She took another gulp of Coke, knowing that it was not all right. It was not all right at all. She could imagine the look on her parents’ faces if they should walk into Charlie’s at this moment and find her here with a group like this one. She glanced up at the clock. It was only eleven.
    The crowd burst into loud laughter again at something one of the boys had said. Dirk was laughing with the rest.
    Then suddenly somebody said, “Hi!”
    Everyone turned. The laughter died a little.
    Dirk turned with the rest of them, and he scowled slightly when he saw who was speaking.
    â€œOh, hi, Brad!”
    The heavy-set boy who stood by the table could not have been more than a couple of years older than Dirk, but there was nothing young about him. His eyes were small and pale and set far apart and there was a look of hardness about him, even when he smiled.
    He was smiling now.
    He perched on the edge of the seat next to Lynn and leaned across to speak to Dirk. His breath was unpleasant, and Lynn, drawing back with a feeling of disgust, realized that he had been drinking heavily.
    â€œHi, Masters!” he said in a low, confidential voice. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your girl friend?”
    â€œShe’s not—that is—” Dirk looked flustered. “This is Lynn Chambers—Brad Morgan.”
    Brad drew back a little so his face was next to Lynn’s. “Hi, there, Lynn. You’re a pretty cute little number. Want to dance?”

    Lynn recoiled from his breath, trying desperately to think of something to say. She did not want to dance with this man. More than anything in the world she did not want to dance with him; the mere idea of it made her physically ill. But there was no polite way of getting out of it. The juke box was playing. People were dancing. They had just been formally introduced, and he had invited her to dance, and there seemed to be no polite way to refuse.
    She glanced beseechingly at Dirk.
    He reached over and put his hand on her arm.
    â€œNot tonight Brad. Lynn and I have to push off. I promised her old man I’d get her home early.”
    â€œOne little dance first?” Brad pleaded, leaning across Lynn again. “Don’t be a spoil-sport, Masters. You wouldn’t be having this evening if I hadn’t lent you my car. You can return a favor with a favor, you know.”
    â€œSorry,” Dirk said shortly, “not tonight.” He got to his feet. “Come on, Lynn.”
    Brad shook his head regretfully. “I should be mad at you, Masters, but I’m not. If I had a cute little number like that one, I’d hang on pretty tight myself. Some guys get all the breaks.”
    Lynn slid out of the booth quickly. Dirk took her arm and turned back to the group.
    â€œSo long, everybody! See you in the funny papers!”
    â€œSo long, Masters! Great seeing you, boy! Have fun!” Somebody said, “Good night, Lynn!” Brad said something else, calling it after them in a low voice, but Lynn did not understand him.
    It was a relief to be out of the smoke-filled atmosphere and