Bernie's Date Night

Laura Beegle

laura@beegle.org

For this and other stories, visit
http://www.beegle.org/laura/words

"You're not really going to wear that, are you BC?" asked Belle. She stood in Bernadine's bedroom door, her arms crossed over her chest and a disapproving look on her face. Bernie rolled her eyes at her younger sister. She had seen that exact pose far too often on their mother for it to be a coincidence.

Bernie adjusted the shoulder of her dark green sheer top to let a little of her tight tank top show. She fiddled at the wide belt, settling it on her nascent hips, trying to show off her narrow waist and make herself look more voluptuous at the same time.

"Don't call me that," said Bernie. "Only people I like get to call me BC." She continued to preen. "And, of course I'm going to wear this. Mom's not here to object. And anyway, my date is with an older boy."

"So?" said Belle.

Bernie sighed. "I wouldn't expect you to understand."

Belle glared at her older sister, jutting her chin out, daring her to explain.

Bernie peered at her sibling in the mirror. She was annoyed that Belle hadn't just drifted away yet. Exasperated, she said, "so, older boys expect me to look older and more sophisticated, like them." She smoothed out some wrinkles in her tight jeans and looked disappointedly at her simple ballet flat shoes. Heels would have looked so much more sophisticated with this outfit.

Their father insisted that Bernie and all her siblings always wear shoes appropriate for running at least several city blocks. "You never know," he would say, "when somebody will try to kidnap you and you need to be able to get away." Bernie had dared to disobey her father only once on this topic. She still shuddered at the beating she had received. And the month of being grounded gave her lots of time to think better of it.

She had bought a pair of cute heels and hid them under her bed, taking them out at night to prance in front of the mirror and imagine walking around the city in them. During her grounding, her father made her look at the heels every day while he lectured her. Part of her was amazed that he could find something different to say on the topic for thirty days straight.

After that incident, she always showed a picture of the shoes she wanted to her mother before buying any. Even her ballet flats had been a battle. She had to prove to her father that she could run in them before he would let her wear them out in public. On the treadmill in the fitness room downstairs, she had run for just over a mile in the shoes while he watched, his arms crossed, scowling at her. He had agreed to them and she thanked him profusely.

Bernie never told anyone, but the run had given her massive blisters and she couldn't wear the shoes comfortably for over a week. Once the blisters had healed, she wore the shoes nearly every day as a sign of her victory over her father. And, they really were cute, despite their non-existent heel.

"You don't look sophisticated," said Belle. "You look like a slut."

Bernie's eyes flashed, but she controlled her temper. She tried to look pitying as she turned to face her little sister.

"Oh, you poor thing," said Bernie, her voice syrupy sweet, "I forgot you've never been on a date. And you have no idea what you're talking about!" She stalked to the door and Belle backed up a step. Bernie slammed the door in her sister's face.

Belle started yelling something threatening at the door, but Bernie wasn't listening. She need to finish getting ready before her date arrived to pick her up. She opened her fashionably tiny handbag and dropped in some makeup, money, and her house keys. Her phone wouldn't fit in the tiny bag, so she tucked it in her back pocket instead.

She paused before closing the purse and eyed the small wooden box on her nightstand. Unconsciously, her hand went to the small charm on her necklace. She walked over to the bed and opened the box. She took out the small gun and set it on the table, then she carefully pried up the velvet lining of the box.

She slid two condoms out from their hiding place and put them in her tiny handbag. Her father would kill her if he knew she hoped to get laid. But, she was sixteen now and all her friends had lost their virginity long ago. She had lied convincingly to them about six months ago and they had stopped pressuring her, but she couldn't let it go. They all talked about it like it was easy and amazing. She wanted to be part of the clique again, even if they didn't realize she wasn't.

Bernie replaced the box's lining and put the gun back. She paused only briefly before closing the lid. She didn't need a gun tonight. All her father's instructions and warnings about protecting herself at all times slid through her mind.

He had drilled into her a million ways to be careful, ways to avoid getting hurt, and, if necessary, ways to hurt others, both with weapons and with magic. Again, her hand went to her necklace. The ward it held would be good enough for basic defense, and she was going on a date, for crying out loud! She didn't need an arsenal, no matter what her father said.

Bernie set the box back on the nightstand. Besides, the gun didn't fit into her purse. As she reached up to turn out the light, her father's training got the better of her. She sighed, picked up the charm bracelet from her dresser, and fastened it around her wrist. Before she could reconsider taking the gun, she turned out the light and went to the front room to wait for her date.

The car smelled like new leather as Corbett helped her ease down into the front passenger seat. It squeaked delightfully and felt stiff and supple at the same time beneath her fingers. She put on her seatbelt and watched Corbett slide behind the wheel. He was so gorgeous! His wavy hair was almost black and it shone, even in the dying summer light. His skin was lightly tanned and his deep brown eyes made her stomach flutter in unexpected ways.

He started the car and put on sunglasses with practiced ease. He smiled at her and started to talk as they pulled out of the drive. He didn't put on his seatbelt and Bernie had to fight down an impulse to say something. Don't be uncool, she scolded herself, he's eighteen and he knows what he's doing. She briefly considered undoing her seatbelt as well, but training and habit got the better of her and she left it on.

"Let's go for a drive," he said casually, "before dinner." He turned to her. "Sound good?"

"Yeah," said Bernie breathlessly and smiled. "Sounds great."

He smiled and reached over to stroke her leg just above the knee. She forced herself not to jump or to break his wrist. Once she had put down her father's defensive training reflex, it felt pretty nice to have someone casually touching her. She smiled at him, willing it not to look shy and inexperienced.

"Do you like my car?" Corbett asked, not taking his hand off her leg.

Bernie was not a car person and hadn't really noticed anything about it when she got in. She knew it was red and convertible. Other than that, she was at a loss.

"Yeah," said Bernie again. "It's very nice."

"Nice?" said Corbett in disbelief. "It's fucking amazing." He rattled off a long string of words and numbers that meant next to nothing to Bernie. She picked out "V12" and "600 horsepower" and knew that it was a powerful engine for such a small car. He had removed his hand from her leg so he could gesture as he described the car. Bernie watched him and wondered what he looked like under his black silk shirt. It was open more at the collar and she saw a gold chain on top of muscles that rippled when he moved. The rest of him looked thin, but well muscled in dark jeans and stylish black shoes. God, she was so lucky her cousin Renard knew such attractive single guys that could pass her father's screening process.

Thinking about her father brought her attention back to the drive and the evening ahead of her. Her curfew was midnight, which was plenty of time to have dinner and sex before she had to be back home. She blushed at the thought of seeing Corbett naked and of finally getting laid.

Corbett paused in his oral masturbation about his car and looked over to see Bernadine flushing.

"Yeah, now you understand," he said, thinking what he had said about the car got her excited. He put his hand back on her leg, a little higher this time. Bernie didn't protest, but flushed a little deeper. She looked at Corbett and wanted to get lost in his gorgeous eyes.

They drove further away from the trees and large lawns of Bernie's neighborhood and into the city. She had lived in the same house for her whole life, but she'd only been into the city a dozen times. She took in the strangeness with hunger. This was her life, her night, and it was off to an awesome start.

Corbett and Bernie chatted about music and movies, discovering they had a little in common, but not as much as Bernie hoped. They passed through the fashionable section of town and the buildings started to look a little more run-down.

"Where are we going?" asked Bernie in a tone she hoped was light. While she was enjoying being out, her father's training was not something easily ignored.

Corbett smiled at her. "I just need to make a stop first," he said. "It's business."

Bernie fought down a scoff. She expected that kind of dismissive comment from her father or her older brothers, but not from her date, someone more her equal. She was tired of that excuse, as if "business" explained everything. No one told her anything and "it's business" was just code for "I don't want to tell you, little girl". She made a little petulant sigh that Corbett took as her catching her breath.

"Don't worry, babe," he said, "it's not dangerous."

She looked at him and tried to hide her confusion. Of course it was dangerous. The whole world was dangerous, according to her father. Being out in a convertible car was dangerous. Going on dates was dangerous. While out helping her father with his business, Bernie's eldest brother had once gotten beaten so badly he was in the hospital for a week. She knew everything was dangerous, but you dealt with it because you were tough and you planned ahead.

She made her tone light. "Of course," she said, "and besides, you're here to protect me, right?"

He hesitated briefly, then smiled broadly at her. "Of course, babe."

Bernie watched him put both hands on the wheel and navigate down a narrow residential street. When she was sure he wasn't watching, she touched her necklace charm to make sure it was working. She touched a few of the other charms on her bracelet and sent a small effort of will into them, activated the additional wards. The hairs on her arms stood up briefly and she blinked at the slight static electricity field using the wards generated. The smell of ozone was unavoidable, but with the car's top down, it was whisked away as quickly as it had come. He didn't want him to think that she was paranoid, but better safe than dead.

Corbett pulled the car up to the curb near a narrow pale yellow house that was badly in need of paint. There was a narrow driveway that led to a two-car garage in the back yard of the house. In front of the garage, several large motorcycles were parked. Their large tattooed owners were talking and working on the engine of a old car. One of them noticed Corbett's car. He set down his beer can and started walking to the front of the house.

"This won't take long," Corbett said, getting out of the car.

Fear and anger flared in Bernie and she scoffed impatiently. "What, am I supposed wait here?" she demanded, also getting out of the car. It might be safer here than with those big guys, but she was almost an adult, dammit, and she was tired of being treated like a child. It was bad coming from her brothers, but this was her date, her night out, and she was not going to be sidelined.

Corbett eyed her and then tossed his chin in a greeting to the heavily muscled guy coming down driveway. He nodded back and then looked meaningfully at Bernie.

Corbett and the tattooed man bumped fists and smiled slightly.

"Can my girl wait in your house?" asked Corbett. "She doesn't like to be alone."

Rage churned in Bernie's stomach and threatened to come out. His girl? She was nobody's girl, especially not this arrogant, self-centered ass. She crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight to one foot. Her long brown hair swung behind her.

The large man nodded and called up to the house, "Maria! House guest!"

Bernie turned to Corbett, intending to give him a piece of her mind, but he smiled and winked at her. A spike of ice cut through her rage with his look. The rant died on her lips. She was being sidelined, but in his gaze, it didn't seem so bad. He had said she was his girl. Maybe that was how adults talked. It wasn't how his parents talked, but they were old. And her brothers were too busy to date much. She dropped her gaze to the ground and kicked herself for throwing a tantrum like a little brat. Ugh! How could she be so juvenile?

While she had been making a fool of herself, Maria had appeared from the house. She was a nice looking Hispanic girl, not much older than Bernie. She smiled warmly and gestured to Bernie to follow. Bernie looked once more at Corbett who nodded at her.

"I'm Maria," said the girl.

"Bernadine."

They walked up to the front door and Maria led the way inside. It was warm and cozy compared to the deepening dark outside. There were lights on in the living room and the small kitchen beyond it. A skinny Hispanic boy sat on the couch in jeans and a t-shirt watching TV with the closed captioning turned on and the volume down low. In the kitchen, two kids in their early teens were sitting at the table, working studiously on something.

Maria gestured at the boy on the couch and said in a quiet voice, "this is my brother, José." He nodded at her.

"Why are you being so quiet?" Bernie asked in hushed tones.

"My cousin, Kip, is sleeping in the guest room," she said with an apologetic smile. "He works nights."

Bernie nodded in understanding. The guys in her family kept strange hours, too.

They walked back to the kitchen and the two young boys looked up from what they were working on to wave at Bernie. She smiled at them and noticed they were working on some basic magic. It looked like the kind of thing she had learned as a kid.

"Can I get you something to eat or drink?" asked Maria.

"No, thank you," said Bernie.

She moved past the table and could see out the back door's window into the garage area behind the house. Corbett and the large biker guys were discussing something in earnest. She just hoped this didn't take long. Her awesome date night was becoming lame quickly. If she wanted to hang out with kids learning magic, she would have stayed home.

Maria went back to the table and said, "where were we?"

"Filtering," said one of the boys. He was Caucasian, painfully skinny, but tall for his age. He pointed at the group of flattened marbles in the center of the table. They were of all different sizes and colors. God, thought Bernie, it was like being trapped in kindergarten.

"Right, Joey," said Maria. "Now that you can reshape and 'push' the marbles, let's work on choosing which ones to target."

"Hold your focus in your hand and think about just the red marbles," she said. He clutched a small, smooth stone in his right hand and furrowed his brow in concentration. Maria continued, "when you have just the red marbles in your mind, push your will into the focus like a showed you."

Despite herself, Bernie looked over her shoulder at the table to see how the boy did.

Joey screwed up his face with effort. A second later, three of the five red marbles and one blue one moved about an inch across the table. He puffed out his breath in annoyance. The other little boy giggled a little. Bernie suppressed a scoff and turned away to look out the window again. It was like being trapped in kindergarten with retards.

Outside, the discussion between Corbett and the bikers had calmed down. One of the bikers was on a cell phone.

"You think you can do better, Ricky?" Joey demanded of the other boy. "That red one was too close to the blue one and I couldn't think about just the red one," he pleaded to Maria.

There were footsteps in the hallway and Bernie could sense someone else in the small kitchen. She looked over her shoulder again. A heavily muscled and tattooed guy stood in just his jeans, wiping sleep from his eyes. Presumably this was Maria's cousin Kip. His short black hair was chaotic and looked greasy. Bernie dismissed him immediately and added it to the list of reasons this night was sucking.

"It's okay," said Maria, "that was good. It does take practice to hold all the targets in your head at once."

Bernie scoffed. Maria was the teacher and she didn't even hint that there were easier ways to do something? What a waste of time this night was! Out with someone so much older than her and all she got to do was hang out with the kids and their stupid teacher? "Why don't you just teach them globbing?" Bernie asked. "It's easier than holding them all in your head at once."

Kip looked at Maria and raised an eyebrow. The boys looked at Maria for an explanation. If there was an easier way to do something, they wanted to know it. She frowned and said, "it's also more dangerous."

Bernie turned away from the window and to the table. All the eyes in the room were on her, but she hardly noticed. She had learned globbing at an early age, much younger than these kids, so it couldn't be that dangerous.

"Then trace it first," she said, exasperated that Maria was the teacher and was so obviously clueless. The kids looked at her blankly. Maria looked hesitant. Kip crossed his arms over his bare chest in expectation. Bernie rolled her eyes and pointed to the table with her charmed arm. Idiots, she thought, this is so simple.

She touched one of the charms and activated it so they would be able to see the traces she would leave with the next bit of magic. She focused on the red color of one the marbles and pushed her will into another of her charms. As she did so, faint yellow sparks like tiny glitter or microscopic fireflies hovered around all the red marbles on the table. The boys leaned in closer to examine the sparkles and made muffled sounds of awe. Maria gaped and Kip raised both his eyebrows.

"Once they're traced, you know what you're going to affect," said Bernie, "and you just push." She sent another command through her charm and the red marbles slid an inch away from their starting point. She dropped her arms and deactivated the trace. The glitter faded and she gestured in a shallow shrug as if to emphasize how obvious and easy this was. "Safe and easy," she said.

Maria colored and scowled at her.

"What's your name?" asked Kip. His voice was low and a little rough. He seemed wide awake now and Bernie turned to regard him. She had been warned never to give out her full name to strangers and especially not to the police.

"Bernadine," she said and turned away from the table to look out the back window again. She was getting tired of waiting around and wanted to see if Corbett was done yet with his business.

Kip narrowed his eyes. There was something familiar about that name, but he couldn't quite place it. He looked at Bernie's back and decided to risk it. He reached down and touched a stud on his belt, pushing his will into it. Her ward against magic probing flashed briefly green around her and he dropped the spell immediately.

"Hey!" Bernie cried, whirling around in anger. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Kip smiled at her. "Bernadine Cart," he said in satisfaction. He knew that name sounded familiar.

"Who I am is none of your business," said Bernie hotly. She glared at Kip.

He held up his hands in surrender, but his eyes sparkled and held hers.

"And, don't get any ideas," said Bernie. "I am willing and able to defend myself if you try anything." Oh, God, please don't let it come to that, she thought. She just wanted to go back to her date and a nice, intimate evening out with a handsome man. She really didn't want to be here fending off would-be kidnappers while her date did something mysterious in the back without her.

"Sorry," said Kip. "It won't happen again."

"Good," said Bernie shortly and looked out the window again.

Maria looked at Kip with concern in her eyes. Kip shook his head to tell her not to worry. Everyone knew who Bernie's father was and no one wanted that kind of heat to come down on them. It explained some of her bratty behavior, he thought. Coming from that kind of privilege, of course she wanted to be entertained and catered to all the time.

There was a new guy in the back of the house now, a tall Asian-looking guy. He was arguing with Corbett. Bernie started to sigh, but it caught in her throat as Corbett and this new guy both drew out pistols and fired at each other.

The sound pounded through the small house and Bernie dropped to the floor. She looked up through her hair to see that Kip had done the same thing. Maria and the young boys were slower to react, looking around in confusion at the sound.

"Down!" whispered Bernie to them through her clenched teeth. The boys stared at her with blank expressions on their faces. Maria's eyes widened in fear. Her heart raced and all other thoughts fled.

Kip produced a pistol from the small of his back. He locked eyes with Bernie and she nodded. She knew what to do and would do it. Kip crept towards the front of the house, planning to catch the gunman from behind.

Maria caught up with what as happening and pulled Ricky down to the floor with her. Bernie pulled Joey down and looked for José in the front room. He was on the floor looking at them with grim determination. He followed Kip out the front door.

More shots rang out. Light flashed as magical attacks collided with wards.

"Stay low," whispered Bernie, "into the hallway."

They scuttled and crawled along as quickly as they dared, hoping to get out of the line of fire. Bernie's heart raced but her head was surprisingly clear. All the instructions and hours spent being drilled on what to do in a gunfight were paying off. She pushed her will into all her wards as they moved. She extended the range to cover as much of the others as she thought she could manage without passing out. She felt a headache start to push in all around her head as she concentrated.

Once they were in the hallway, they huddled close together, making Bernie's wards easier to power. The headache eased slightly, as she shrank the size of the ward to their huddled forms. The wards would do nothing for bullets, but stray magic could be just as lethal. When protecting just Bernie, they drew an imperceptible amount of energy from her to keep them going. Spread out to cover all of them required significantly more energy.

Joey and Ricky had started to cry and Maria stroked their heads, trying to comfort them. Bernie focused her attention on her offensive spells, preparing them, and prayed that she wouldn't have to use them. Once activated, the wards would continue to protect them until she changed them or she ran out of energy and passed out. Offensive spells were another matter entirely. They required concentration to use. She had practiced on target dummies and even a live pig once, but using magic to hurt something living had made her queasy.

After what seemed like an eternity, the gunfire and flashing lights ceased. The boys continued to cry, but stopped whimpering. Maria drew in a shaky breath and squeezed Bernie's hand. Bernie started to relax, but tensed as the back doorknob turned.

Just before she let her offensive spell rip, she heard a low voice saying, "it's Kip. I'm coming in, so don't shoot me." Bernie waited until she could see that it was really Kip before she relaxed. He opened the door a little hesitantly and slowly stuck his head inside. A wave of relief washed through her as she saw his awful hair and broad shoulders. Bernie released the ward protecting the others. Her head swam from the exertion of holding the ward so big for so long. She let her head fall back against the wall and a tears drained out of her eyes. She had made it out alive. Fear, exhaustion, and joy wreathed together until crying was the only expression left for that confusing mass of feelings.

Kip walked slowly towards them. He squatted down and squeezed Maria's shoulder. Maria looked at him, smiling slightly. Kip didn't smile and Maria's smile melted in horror. Her eyes widened and a scream rose in her throat. "No!" she wailed as she bolted from the hallway and out the back door.

Kip dropped his hand and his eyes to the floor. An image of Maria's brother José flashed before Bernie's eyes unbidden. The determination on his face, the tension in his skinny shoulders. All of it gone. Bernie swallowed the lump in her throat and wiped away her tears. Kip took a shaky breath and sniffed loudly before he stood up and followed Maria out the back door.

Bernie tried to extricate herself from Ricky and Joey, but they wouldn't let go of her. Finally, she let them hold onto her shirt as she walked numbly into the back yard. This was her fault, she thought. If she hadn't come here with Corbett, maybe none of this would have happened, maybe José would still be alive.

Maria was in hysterics, kneeling over the body of her brother and wailing incoherently in a mix of Spanish and English. The tall Asian guy was dead, too, his eyes staring blankly up into the sky. Corbett was talking frantically into his cell phone while the bikers helped one of their number up to his feet. Bernie could see blood running down his arm. It almost looked black in the low light. She felt her gorge rising and swallowed it back. She refused to puke in front of all these people and let them know how scared she was and how guilty she felt. She took a deep breath and blinked back tears.

Corbett finished his phone call and Kip immediately started talking with him in earnest. Corbett looked over at her, his hair disheveled and his eyes hard. He said something to Kip and turned away, dialing his cell phone again. Bernie was incensed by his coldness. After all that had just happened, he couldn't spare a second to comfort her, his date, his girl? Indignation joined the emotional mosh pit in Bernie's chest and she just stared at his back, her mind refusing to work.

Kip touched her lightly on the arm and Bernie jumped. He took Joey and Ricky by the hands. Kip led the young boys over to one of the other bikers. The big man leaned down to the boys and hugged them tightly. In that embrace, Bernie saw more love than she had ever felt from her father. It lit the emotions in her chest on fire and she felt her stomach churn. She turned away from the scene and vomited into a little flowerbed, tears streaming down her face.

Kip waited for her to finish then touched her arm. She looked up. His face was hard, but his eyes were kind. "We need to get you home," he said. Bernie nodded.

Kip had put on an old t-shirt. He offered her his leather jacket and she put it on. It was ridiculously large on her, but she didn't care. He helped her put on a motorcycle helmet and mount the bike. She wrapped her arms around him, too distracted by the mental and emotional chaos inside her to feel weird about holding tightly to a man she barely knew.

They rode away from the small house, through the city streets that had seemed so liberating only an hour ago. Bernie was glad he kept to the quiet streets, away from the bright lights of the city center. It felt so surreal to see people going about their evening like nothing had happened. Two people were dead, lives were altered forever, and no one out here knew or cared. They had their own problems.

She replayed the crisis over and over in her head. She had done as her father had trained her to do: take cover and keep safe. José did not have the luxury of hiding. He felt compelled to try and protect his family and it had gotten him killed. Why did she get to hide while José had to fight? Arguably, she was at least as lethal with her magic as José was with his weapons. What gave her the right to hide while others fought for her?

Was this her fault? If it was anyone's fault it was the people who started shooting in somebody's back yard. Who did that kind of thing? They should have taken their business somewhere else. And why was Corbett doing business on their date anyway? She felt her insides go cold. She knew what her father did and knew how dangerous his business was, but it had always been something abstract, something vague and impersonal. Now she knew the full extent of her father's business and how it could change lives in horrible ways. She felt sick again with a cold lump of dread settling in her belly. Tonight's disaster was not her fault, but her father's. The enormity of this connection made her eyes leak tears and her mind go blank. She laid her head against Kip's back and watched the city slide by.

Slowly, the gray city streets gave way to green lawns and full trees. Kip stopped the motorcycle at the end of the block where Bernie's house was. She got off the bike and removed the bulky helmet. She didn't want to meet Kip's eyes. She was afraid it would make her cry again, or worse, throw up again.

He took back the helmet and jacket. He strapped the helmet onto the back of the bike. Then he touched her arm lightly.

"It's okay to be upset," he said.

A stab of pain went through her chest and tears welled up in her eyes, but she did her best to not let it show.

He studied her for a moment. Her mascara and eye makeup had streaked down her cheeks with her tears. She stood timidly with her feet close together and her shoulders turned forward. Kip was a little surprised to see this frightened young girl in place of the arrogant and spoiled brat he had met an hour ago.

Kip pursed his lips. There was just no easy way to bring up the events of the evening.

"It would be best," he said quietly, still touching her arm, "if your father doesn't find out where you were tonight."

Bernie nodded.

"You think you can make up a lie he'll believe?"

She nodded again. "I've done it before," she said, "though not for something like..." She trailed off, the words sticking in her throat. She swallowed hard and took a shaky breath. "I can do it," she said.

Kip nodded and withdrew his hand. He started the bike again and prepared to leave.

"Wait," she said and clutched at his shoulder. She didn't have anything else to say, but she didn't want to be alone on the dark street or to face the bright lights of her house's driveway.

She hesitated and Kip placed his hand over hers. He looked at her and she finally raised her gaze to his eyes.

"Good night, Bernadine Cart," he said softly.

She smiled a little and said, "call me BC."