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  1. From the album: Squishy Smores

    © https://twitter.com/SquooshySmores

  2. From the album: Squishy Smores

    © https://twitter.com/SquooshySmores

  3. From the album: Squishy Smores

    © https://twitter.com/SquooshySmores

  4. Hey! Welcome to the Lovington Effect. I hope you stick around for awhile. While writing Without Merit, I thought of a prequel for my prequel even though there isn't a sequel, or an actual story for that matter. However, Lover Boy takes place in the 1980s, and it was supposed to be a one-shot, then the music took over. And entirely different story came out. A warning though. This story is rougher than Without Merit, and is a lot darker. It also contains frequent mentions of a sexual assault. If that is big concern to you, there are other great stories on this site. All characters are over eighteen. Thanks for reading. 1: Private Eyes 2: Girls Just Wanna Have Fun 3: Every Breath you Take... 4: ... I'll be Watching You 5: You Spin me Round (Like a Record) 6: The Voice Beyond the Mirror 7: Total Eclipse of the Heart 8: The New Forever 9: The Baby Shower ————————- Lover Boy 1988 Part 1: Private Eyes Every girl in Lovington knew about Beau Taylor. He was a walking, talking cautionary tale; all too similar to Icarus, fly too close to his hotness and your heart was sure to melt. Senior quarterback for the varsity football team, muscular build, tight denim jeans. Notorious bad boy with good hair. What was there not to like? He had bedded a good number of the girls in school, and a good number of girls outside of school as well. No one from the female persuasion was safe from the ‘Lover Boy’. The upperclassmen hung out on the lawn after the final bell, finding spots among the green grass, on the side of the concrete stairs, or beneath the shade of a half a dozen oak trees that lined the side of the school. The football players laid claim to a grassy knoll that overlooked the parking lot. From their high perch, they would catcall and wolf-whistle at all the girls. Appreciating the angry looks from mothers and fathers who happened to pick up their blushing virginal daughters from high school. Beau found his friends already there, laid about the ground, lounging and laughing. His best friend, Sherrod, sat taller between a pair of reclining oversized humans known as offensive linemen, Monster and Handley. Sherrod was an incredible athlete like Beau, they shared the backfield as quarterback and running back. They also shared the same outfit that day. Black shirt, blue jeans and denim jacket, down to the same bright red Converse shoes. Beau slapped the back of his black friend to grab his attention, catching Sherrod by surprise. Loudly announcing his presence with, “How are you three queers doing?” The three supposed ‘queers’ laughed as they exchanged special handshakes without leaving the ground. Monster looked up and asked, “What’s up, Beau?” “Nothing besides my dick.” The quarterback handled his crotch through his jeans. They all laughed again. “No, seriously man,” Beau continued, “my johnson is a little tired, it had quite the weekend.” “No shit?” Sherrod flashed a curious smile. “No shit, my man. You know how I score on and off the field. I’m talking about Vanessa, Christine, and Holly. I’m talking about how I get busy!” Next came something of a pelvic thrust to make sure his friends picked up his subtle connotation. Handley appeared surprised. “I didn’t think Holly was the type for that kind of thing.” “That’s where you’re mistaken, tubby.” Beau corrected him. “All of the ladies are the type for the ‘Lover Boy’.” Sherrod groaned. “Come on, you don’t have to show us your ass again.” But it was already too late, the jeans and the BVDs were already mid-buttock, revealing his heart tattoo with the words ‘Lover Boy’ on his upper right cheek. They didn’t want to look, but a heart-shaped tattoo on a pasty white ass has the innate capacity to grab attention. “You need to stop showing everyone your butt,” Sherrod warned him after catching an eyeful. “People are going to think that you’re homo or something.” “Well, I’m not the one who keeps staring at my buns of steel. What does that say about you guys?” Beau intermittently flexed his cheeks side to side like an experienced male stripper in a speedo. Which caught the attention of a trio of girls just beyond the football players. He made sure to give them a wink when he was done pulling up his pants. Monster gave the girls a wink, too. But they laughed incredulously and turned away from him. Maybe the big guy needed a tattoo on his butt. Handley asked, “Beau, why are you even here with us lowly, car-less peons — where’s the firebird?” Beau shrugged his backpack further over his shoulder and looked away. “You know, the old Bird is in the shop, getting its oil changed.” This was a lie. He had totaled his muscle car early Sunday morning. Right after showing Vanessa the ‘Lover Boy’ in the backseat and sending her limping back to her parents. Also, right after downing a six pack of beer. His parents were more than a little pissed at him about the wrecked car, especially his tough-love mom. She said that there would be a few changes coming his way. A dire warning that Beau didn’t care to heed. Speaking of his mom, he saw her station wagon turn the corner. Beau rushed towards the getaway vehicle, waving at the dudes, blowing kisses to the ladies. He didn’t want anyone to see him getting into the car with his mom. He had a reputation to uphold. “See ya, losers.” Beau called back. “Catch you at practice tomorrow, and I’ll see you girls after the game.” He jogged down the hill to where the wagon ran idle at the curb. Beau didn’t even notice Vanessa in the front seat until he was literally right on top of the car. The surprising sight caused him to trip as he rocketed down the hill, his hurried stumbling and fall braced by the impact of the long wood-paneled hood of the station wagon. How had he not spotted her there? The loud blonde hair, the blinding pink halter top, and dangling earrings should have been noticed from the top of the hill, from over a block away, or the next county over. Beau played it off as being silly, he was good looking enough to get away with being a klutz if it looked like he did it on purpose. He comically stretched out over the hood of the car like a bikini model. Moment saved. Vanessa rolled down the window with the hand crank. “Beau, what the hell are you doing on your mom’s car?” Mmm. There was that tasty condescension that he loved about his girlfriend. If you could call it ‘going steady’, he and Vanessa were the closest thing to going steady. Obviously, it didn’t mean they were completely true to one another. “I have a better question,” Beau said as he pulled himself upright and back onto his feet. “What are you doing inside my mom’s car?” Vanessa did what she did best, dealing with his childishness by running a hand through her hair. The fake blonde, over done, hair-sprayed fashion statement was partially to blame for the hole in the o-zone layer. All joking aside, it wasn’t all bad to be with a girl like Vanessa. She did have her perks; two of them in fact, and they sat on her chest in the most beautiful fashion, straining the thin fabric of the pink halter top. Ten years ago, it would have been empowering for her not to even wear a bra. Suddenly, Beau dreamed of driving a Delorean and meeting a crazy guy named Doc. She leaned out the window. “Quit being stupid, I’m trying to run some errands with your mom.” Beau hesitated outside of the car. “Errands? Where are you guys heading?” His mom turned from the driver seat, her thick glasses captured the light in a weird way. It made her eyes look all funny. “We need to pick up a few things from ‘Ma’ Webber’s for a baby shower.” Mrs. Taylor lit the cigarette between her lips. “Baby shower?” Beau grinned. “I hope I’m not going to be a daddy.” He winked at Vanessa who lightly tousled her hair again to dismiss his stupidity. Vanessa answered matter-of-factly, “You won’t be.” He was in the back of the station wagon without any fuss, leaning over the front seat without a seatbelt, and bothering Vanessa as much as he could with his mom present. That only lasted a few minutes, as Vanessa didn’t seem to care for Beau, or his presence, or his flirtatious sense of humor. Recognizing a lost cause, Beau finally gave up. The radio played a fuzzy tune, the tired speakers in doors kicked out the whinging guitars of Hall and Oates. The song was called 'Private Eyes'. Private Eyes they're watching you they see your every move Private Eyes they're watching you Private Eyes they're watching you watching you watching you watching you Beau drummed along with the beat with his fingers. The car strolled down main street, past the city park, slowing as it went by the old government lab just outside the center of town. You play with words you play with love you can twist it around baby that ain't enough cause I'm gonna know if you're letting me in or letting me go don't lie when you're hurting inside 'cause you can't escape my Private Eyes He settled on chilling against the vinyl seat, trying to put together why he even bothered with Vanessa in the first place. Then he reminded himself of exactly two reasons ‘why’. As he leaned back, he looked out the side window as the station wagon came to a stop in front of a house, not a baby store. Beau instantly recognized the house. It’s where he picked up Christine last Friday night; before he showed her the ‘Lover Boy’ in the back of the movie theatre. Oh boy, did Vanessa know about Christine? Because Christine knew about Vanessa, and she told Beau that she didn’t care if he already had a girlfriend. He watched in horror as Christine came out of the house and approached the passenger side with a brooding look, her jaw set and her eyes forward like living was an awful chore. She went by Christine, not ever Chrissy, you’d get popped in the mouth for calling her that. And she was the typical punk rock type, a metal head, a headbanger. Always wore black clothing, black jeans, ripped t-shirt, short cropped black hair. Even the leather fingerless gloves were black, and they looked great against her ivory skin. Multiple piercings in each ear, multiple studs in her leather jacket. She gave off a lot of that ‘look but don’t touch’ kind of vibe. But that didn’t keep away the ‘Lover Boy’. Beau could see past the rough exterior, which was easy to do since he’d more than once seen her naked. Her skinny pale figure had the slightest of curves at her breasts and hips, and was something to die for in the dark. Her bodacious body was worth all of the trouble that it came with, even if it drew the ire of the tempestuous blonde riding up front. Christine spoke to Vanessa. “You guys are running a little late, Vanessa. I just called Holly to tell her we were on our way.” Beau choked. “Holly, too?” Not her. Anyone but her. The girls turned his way and gave him a condescending glare to prove how much they were planning on ignoring him. Vanessa addressed Christine as coldly as a suspicious lover. “Thanks for coming with us, Christine. It wouldn’t happen any other way. She wanted us all to be there.” “Who? What?” Beau sounded the alarm. Vanessa interrupted him. “Beau, sweetie, us grown-ups are trying to talk.” Grown-ups? Sweetie? Her name calling had certainly been toned down this afternoon. Normally, Vanessa called him every four and five letter word that could make a sailor blush. “We got to motor if we want to make it on time,” Vanessa continued, undeterred. “Hop in the back with little Beau, and we can be on our way.” Christine was already pulling her seatbelt over her chest before they got moving again. She asked, “What took you guys so long?” “Beau was all about dry humping the hood like Tawny Kitaen,” explained Vanessa. “I wasn’t dry humping anything,” complained Beau. “Sure, you weren’t.” Christine tapped his cheek with a belittling soft touch. He slid to the bottom of his seat as Christine settled down next to him. She smiled at him, and he smiled back. It felt like calamity was knocking at the door, and all he could do was hide behind the curtains. Beau didn’t want to go to Holly’s house, see Holly’s face, or share the same planet as Holly. There were reasons why he wasn’t as proud of his conquest of Holly as he was Christine and Vanessa. It could be scratched up to miscommunication. He’d leave it at that. They had to check the addresses when they pulled up to Holly’s street, because all of the houses in the neighborhood looked the same. This one had a real quaint cottage appeal, a real copycat of the house next door and the one next door to that. Vanessa spotted little Holly on the porch-swing in front of her house, just rocking back and forth in a slow, melancholy way. She wasn’t taking this well, some girls don’t after getting the ‘Lover Boy’. Holly was demure, mousy little thing in round glasses. A naive brunette that always wore cheap dresses that looked ripped straight out of Little House on the Prairie. She liked puppies, kittens, rainbows and ponies, they were all over her Lisa Frank trapper keeper. She was so childish and innocent, and Beau — Beau gritted his teeth. He growled, “Why does she have to come with us?” Christine recoiled. “Whoa, Beau. What’s crawled up your butt?” “I just don’t fucking — I mean, I just don’t like her, she’s super weird, a real psycho like in that Carrie movie.” Mrs. Taylor waved a bony finger at her son. “Young man, you need to do a better job of watching your mouth, or I’ll pull this car over.” Beau slammed the front seat with an overhead swing from both of his hands. “We’re already pulled over, mom! Quit being such an idiot all the time.” Christine put a hand on his shoulder to calm him, but he rebuffed her touch with an angry shrug. “Beau, you don’t have to spaz out on your mom like that.” It was just so strange. All of these women in the same place was doing things to his mind. Making him think about things, and Beau didn’t like to think about things. Reflection was only for mirrors, not for Beau Taylor. He wouldn’t reflect on what happened this weekend, he wouldn’t think about it at all. His knuckles were in his mouth, stifling a tiny internal scream. He was still deep in his non-reflection when the car door opened. Holly was there, but her usual braces-filled smile was noticeably missing, and something cold and callous filled its place. No, she wasn’t taking the ‘Lover Boy’ treatment very well at all. He still greeted her, pretending to be all friendly-like even if he knew they weren’t friends. “What’s happening, Holly?” Beau tried to mend the fence, but it looked beyond repair. “Oh, hi Beau,” Holly replied, nasally and snarky. “When did you start sucking your thumb like a baby?” He didn’t even realize his hand was already back in his mouth. Beau quickly yanked it away, pretending to scratch his chin, or anything besides sucking his thumb. His frazzled response very much the opposite of being the ‘Lover Boy’. “I’m not sucking my thumb, I was just —“ Holly interrupted, “Sucking your fingers?” Mrs. Taylor weighed in on the subject as she put the car into gear. “My baby Beau always had an oral fixation. When he wasn’t on a bottle, he was on a pacifier. Took a damn long while to kick that habit.” His mom frowned as she flicked the ash free from her cigarette out the rolled down window. Christine giggled, “Oh, really.” “That explains a lot actually,” Vanessa added. “His obsession with certain things, am I right Christine?” “You’re right, can’t keep his mouth off of them.” Vanessa scowled towards the backseat in the overhead rear view mirror. At both Beau and Christine. What were these girls doing? Talking about ‘Lover Boy’ things in front of his mom! You didn't do that to a guy. He wasn't one to be afraid of a little innuendo, but there was a time and place to be sexual, and this wasn't it. That kind of talk was best saved for the backseat of the Bird, or the row furthest from the screen where no one could see or hear. Or in a restroom at her parent's restaurant. No. Why couldn't he block that out? He couldn't push that out of his mind like he wanted. It stuck around like a bad smell, as soon as it left his mind, it found its way back like a boomerang. Beau searched about the car for someone to take his side, but no one came to his defense. He suddenly felt exposed, and he didn’t like it one bit. “You’re all just trying to be funny, like I’m sucking my thumb right before we go shopping for a baby shower. What are you going to do? Buy me a pacifier? Goo-goo, gaa-gaa.” He expected them to laugh, especially when he broke into the baby talk. They just stared at him, as empty of mirth as a funeral. “You’re starting to get the right idea,” Holly laughed. Then the whole car laughed. In unison. Things were getting sorta weird around here, and Beau had enough of being outnumbered by their little hen party. There was far too much estrogen in the air, he had to puff his hairy chest to counter all the womanly energy. Something to do with aligning of the moon and the coordination of their monthly cycles. Deep thinking stuff. “Who’s this baby shower for, anyways?” Beau shot back with some swagger. “I’d like to know which one of you got knocked up.” The car went silent again. He shrugged like the Fonz. “What? Was it something I said?” Vanessa sighed, “Quit being such a wastoid, Beau.” Holly asked, “Why do you need to know?” The mousy girl spoke in a distant way as her eyes traced the world outside the window. Beau tried to explain his logic to the helpless females. “If I’m being dragged along on some crazy shopping trip, I’d at least like to know a few simple things. Like, is it for a baby boy or a baby girl?” His mom cleared her throat. “It’s for a boy. A sweet little boy.” Beau pushed the smoke away as his mom exhaled. It stung his eyes. “Does that satisfy your curiosity?” Vanessa said. “Nope,” Beau coughed, he didn’t care if he was being belligerent. “Why are you guys all together, who do you all know?” Holly snapped, "We all know you." “What’s that supposed to mean?” Beau asked. Oh, man. This deep thinking stuff hurt his brain. Okay. Maybe Holly knew about Christine, because Christine knew about Vanessa, and he was pretty sure Vanessa now knew about Christine. However, no one knew about what happened between him and Holly. That was a secret. A mistake. The mousy girl should know when it was her turn to keep her mouth shut like he told her. Beau clenched his fists until his knuckles popped. “You’ll find out soon enough,” Holly answered when she finally turned his way. The wood paneled station wagon pulled into the large gravel and dirt parking lot. The large and lonely store had more of a warehouse look than a home to retail. It sat like an empty island in the middle of nowhere. It was just a short drive from Lovington, but felt like a more different domain, and had a different feel about the whole thing. A long faded tarp was stretched across the front windows. A mainsail that billowed in the mild breeze that also kicked up a bit of dust. On the tarp was a handwritten message in what he guessed was shoe polish: Welcome to Webber’s Open at our new location Now with more influence Now with more inspiration However, the baby store was far from a ghost town. Dozens of workers in white overalls shuffled boxes around like drones with orders specifically from the queen. There was sawdust all around the door, he could even see the tell-tale signs of new construction from far away. Beau looked around at the chaos. "Is this place even open yet?" "It is by appointment," Holly commented as she opened the car door. She quickly caught onto his reluctance. "What? Are you afraid of going into a baby store? I thought you were some kind of tough guy." Beau shook his head. Stay ahead of this, and don’t let her get to you. "I'm not scared, it's just weird. What kind of bogus baby store needs an appointment to go buy diapers? Don’t babies use them all the time?” “Always on about the diapers,” Christine commented. “As if babies didn’t do anything besides pee and poop. Men are so clueless sometimes, am I right?” “Back off Christine,” Beau cracked. “I’m just trying to make conversation.” Vanessa was already outside of the car. "No need to get all defensive, baby Beau." That was it. They had challenged his masculine superiority, and if they started into this baby nonsense, they would never stop. He had to get ahead of this. Yeah, he was notoriously childish. Yeah, he was outnumbered. Yeah, the girls were acting kind of weird. Yeah, he was running out of yeahs. He'd overpower them with his powerful personality, let the 'Lover Boy' show. Well, not that ‘Lover Boy’. He'd get arrested for showing that off in this — empty parking lot. They were the only car there. No other customers, judging by the size of the building, for a huge department store. There were big moving trucks in the front, but those belonged to the workers. The same could be said about a small row of vans and sedans parked along the backside of the store. How had he just now noticed the empty lot? There was a cloudy feeling in his head. He tried to shake it off. He'd felt this way before, it felt like a hangover, but he hadn’t had anything to drink since wrecking the firebird. No. It reminded him of getting his ‘bell rung’ while playing football. Which was ‘coach speak’ for taking a bad shot to the helmet, which was bad news because his head was in there. A hard tackle could send his brain ricocheting inside his skull, resulting in subtle, temporary brain damage. The world would ring for a few minutes, or longer; and you were supposed to shake it off, not let it bother you, and battle the headache that sometimes lasted for days. That’s what it felt like, confusing, foggy headed, and hard to focus. Beau pulled at the inside handle of the car door, hoping the fresh air would alleviate all of this cloudiness. He pulled at the handle, and the door didn't move. He wiggled his hand to re-grip, and then he tried again. No. He roughly grabbed it with both hands and started violently shaking it back and forth. "You coming or not, Beau?" Holly leaned into the doorway from her side of the car. "It's just this fuc-, I mean this stupid door." He tempered his language for his angry mother, who was already working on her next cigarette outside. That habit was going to be her death, and maybe not soon enough. "You can always come out my side," Holly offered. "NO! I'm going through this. banging. door!" Beau knew he was being irrational, it was all irrational. His head felt hot as he strained against the unrelenting station wagon. He needed to show off his strength and beat this unopenable door, pop it open like a pickle jar for these women. That would get them to leave him alone. Christine waited just outside the car, watching his pathetic attempts through the window before figuring out the hold up, and opening the door from the outside. "That's the problem,” Christine observed. “It looks like the child lock was accidentally engaged. No need to throw a hissy fit, Beau." “It wasn’t a hissy fit,” Beau argued as he stepped outside and flipped his jacket collar. “Throwing a temper tantrum like a toddler, maybe Beau needs a timeout.” Vanessa giggled at her own joke. “Or he could use a spanking,” Christine added. Roll with the punches, Beau. Let them have their laughs, they were laughing with him, and not at him, right? There really wasn’t a difference, it’s what the dweebs told themselves to make themselves feel better about being dweebs. He calmed himself as the group set off towards the store. It wasn’t worth making a scene, he already made a fool of himself with the stupid door, with the stupid child lock. How had that thing been engaged? There hadn’t been a baby in the backseat in almost two decades, and Beau was an only child with no little cousins in the family tree. "You're going to want to behave yourself here," Holly warned as they all made their way across the dirt parking lot. "I've heard some strange stories about Elizabeth Webber. Also known as 'Ma'." "Like what?" Beau hurried to walk even with the smaller girl. "The first being that she's really into old school discipline, one of those grannies that still believes that humiliation is the best teacher." Holly actually sounded close to admiring this woman, Beau made it a point to steer clear of someone like she was describing. Mrs. Taylor whispered, "Maybe she can be the one to fix Beau." "What was that, mom?" Beau turned on his mother. "Do you think there's something wrong with me?" She didn't have to answer. He didn’t want to be the one to admit that his mom was right. There was something wrong with him. A dark part of him that did something wrong, that couldn't handle how wrong he went, and Beau knew it. That mistake with that mousy girl. Forever wiping the smile off her face every time she saw him. Being the 'Lover Boy' had its drawbacks. He couldn't hide behind the ultra-confident persona when Holly was around. Why was she even here? Why was he even here? He could just walk away, but he found his feet leading him to the store instead of the fledgling sunset. “And the second?” Beau’s curiosity was getting the better of him. “About ‘Ma’ Webber?” Holly pretended to be surprised. “Well, let’s just say if you act like a child, she'll treat you like one. So try to act your age for once.” Vanessa giggled. “Lay off the threatening, Holly. He’ll find out soon enough.” Beau asked, “Find out what?” “About the true meaning of diaper discipline,” Christine finished the conversation. Then she glared at Beau. He stopped with his mouth open, the girls didn’t really mean what they were saying. This had to be a prank, a way to mess with his head. And it was working. The girls continued inside while Beau hung around in the parking lot, going over the building one last time before joining them. The workers that hustled around him didn’t talk as they removed products from the backs of a pair of large white trucks, sometimes one at a time, for bigger things they worked in twos. He had to move to the side as two of the gruff men in faded white overalls and white hats pulled a huge car seat from the store, heading past him towards the parking lot. Beau stopped to watch the men struggle with big plastic safety-chair. Then he finally realized what the workers reminded him of, Oompa-Loompas. These guys were like a cross-breed between a biker gang and Oompa-Loompas. Except the little orange fellas sang as they worked, these guys only wore a scowl for their minimum wage. Still, the size of that carseat was something he couldn't get over. It looked like it could sit an adult, the various straps and buckles seemed thicker as well. It reminded him of a strait jacket, and it gave him the Heebie-jeebies. "Dude, did you guys catch the size of that carseat?" No one heard him. The girls were already inside, meeting Miss Elizabeth ‘Ma’ Webber, collecting a shopping list, and deciding how to best split the load. They had to get ready for a baby shower tonight.
  5. From the album: Squishy Smores

  6. From the album: Squishy Smores

  7. From the album: Squishy Smores

  8. From the album: Squishy Smores

  9. From the album: Squishy Smores

    © https://twitter.com/SquooshySmores

  10. From the album: Squishy Smores

    © https://twitter.com/SquooshySmores

  11. From the album: Squishy Smores

    © https://twitter.com/SquooshySmores

  12. From the album: Squishy Smores

    © https://twitter.com/SquooshySmores

  13. From the album: Squishy Smores

    © https://twitter.com/SquooshySmores

  14. From the album: Squishy Smores

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