Lucking Out of the Storm

By L. K. Lantzy

Five childhood friends find their world turned upside down when one girl awakens after something horrible happened the previous night. What was supposed to be a fun night out at a party in college turns into a gut-wrenching mystery. By chance, the shy and pensive Ali calls and realizes she must act quickly. If not, determining whether her friend was raped and by whom may prove impossible. The victim's family and friends watch in helpless misery as the victim, a gregarious and quick-witted tennis player, suffers aftershocks they are unable to prevent. But drawing on a decade-long sisterhood forged on sports fields, in school and anywhere fun could be found, her four best friends vow to revive the victim's access to her previously beautiful life. In time, everyone discovers courage and strength they never knew dwelt within them. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: L. K. Lantzy
• Release date: May 16, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393680734

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LUCKING OUT OF THE STORM

L.K. Lantzy

Copyright © 2020 by L.K. Lantzy

All rights reserved.

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please visit your favorite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

Dedication I

To all the girls who have suffered the liabilities of being female. Being female, trusting or having fun should not be liabilities.

About The Author – (Dedication II)

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Connect with L.K. Lantzy

About the Author - Dedication II

Chapter One

THE FIRST THING deserving mention about the storm is the day at the beach before we started high school. That was when our experience of the world took a sharp turn from our guy friends’. The attention diffused toward us. We had no ability to stop the unwanted stream of it without making a scene. As yet we didn’t have any creativity to thwart those streams quickly. Assertiveness eluded some of us. The lack of preference, of choice, was what got me. We wanted some attention, sure, but with an ability to choose. We needed to be able to stop the flow, or worse, the rushing of attention, as soon as we detected it was dark. Dark and lacking concern for us. That day at the beach we didn’t put it in words, but we awoke to the fact that those of us who wanted to escape when the attention got weird couldn’t always. When we knew it was unconcerned with anything that made us us. Human.

That old man is definitely staring at us, Amanda said, propped on her elbows atop her black beach towel.

Which one? Haley asked, scanning beyond our cluster of towels at the beach. Seagulls honked, and children splashed in the safer, knee-high remnants of the tall waves that had crashed further out. Only a few yards separated us from other sunbathers. The air smelled of salt and sunscreen. Ketchup and vinegar wafted off our buckets of beach fries. Where we grew up, peanut oil was the very public secret of those pricey fries. A gold mine, my parents would say as we waited in line on the boardwalk, or on the sidewalk, or on the hot pavement itself. After reluctant glances at the calendar, everyone was getting in their last beach days of 2001.

The old guy at eight o'clock. Brown trunks, striped chair, Amanda said. Haley and London spotted him, and I stole a glance a few seconds later. Twenty yards away lounged a heavyset grandpa gazing at my four closest friends and me as we relished the August sun. Haley's mom, Mrs. Miller, had carted us all to the beach for the day, two hours from our hometown in eastern Maryland. It was a final outing the Saturday before we started soccer pre-season and entered high school.

He's watching us, Haley said in her lowest goofy voice, "like we're The Andy Griffith Show back in the day. Imagine if he saw the pretty chicks at our school!"

I want to dig a big hole. Who wants me to bury them? Erin asked, plucking one of her dark curls and letting it spring back up. Amanda tutted and rolled her eyes. When Erin glanced at her, Amanda and London exchanged a derisive grin at Erin's childish request. Erin turned my way, a poof of black ringlets bobbing.

Ali, will you dig with me? Or at least bury me once I'm done?

Bury you? I asked, hoping to buy time.

Wow, he is staring so hard, Amanda said. Stopped playing with his grandkids and everything.

Ali? Erin asked.

It's just too hot, Er, I said. I wanted to stay in the sun to return to school with as little of my shin-guard tan as possible. Amanda and Haley had bragged that their lines had dissipated after lying out by Haley's pool.

Gramps thinks we're too hot, Amanda said. London and Haley laughed. Erin, he wants to bury you under him. He'll squash you with his pot belly. Amanda knew it would take some provocation for oblivious Erin to acknowledge the staring. Adept at filtering out inappropriateness, Erin pursed her lips, staring down at her towel. Reluctance suppressed, she glanced at the peeper.

I bet he's looking at Haley. Either way, we should simply tell Mrs. Miller, Erin said.

At the mention of her mother, Haley sprang off her towel in her glitter-rimmed purple tankini and stood next to Erin. You guys should bury me!

Upon Haley’s volunteering for burial, Erin smiled and bounced to an open patch of sand to dig. Her tight racer-back one-piece, left over from last summer's swim team, communicated her lack of concern for tan lines. Short and thin with a flat chest, Erin's only hope to borrow a more appealing swimsuit when going to the pool with her new boyfriend had been Haley, who was only a little bigger.

"Solid point, Erin. We should tell Mrs. Miller." London took a deep breath to ready herself to march over to Haley's mom. Kathy Miller reclined ten yards closer to the ocean, reading the August issue of Christian Family under her umbrella. If London's own mother were there, London would have darted to inform her. But before she took the first step toward Mrs. Miller, Haley interjected.

Hm, let's see, how about no?! Haley said, flipping her long brown hair over one shoulder. London looked to Amanda, who lay on her stomach with her head facing London.

Kathy will flip when she sees this old perv ogling your long legs that go clear up to your ass, Amanda said to London.

As the look of resolve washed off London's face, Amanda, Haley and I laughed.

Are you digging to China, Erin? Amanda asked, flashing a superior smile. With two boisterous older sisters and permissive parents, Amanda had embarked on an aggressive quest to be a real teenager years ago. Meanwhile, Erin occupied the opposite end of the spectrum, citing zero problems with the simplicity of childhood.

I'm an expert at burying people, Amanda. Let me work here, Erin replied, jutting her chin forward.

I'm sure you are. The rest of us smiled at the exchange while Erin dug and Haley scooped a handful of sand every so often. You're just trying to tune out Sir Creep-A-Lot over there.

Amanda, Haley, Erin and I had met in first grade and had been close since fourth. Haley quickly became Amanda’s sidekick. More calm and measured, Erin and I usually stuck together. After switching out of private school, London joined our group in sixth grade. We'd gotten more interested in boys each year of middle school, but only in the past summer had older guys started paying us any attention. Suddenly nods and eyebrow flicks flowed our way from guys up to two years older. Haley and London even received hollers from guys out of high school. Priding herself on her outrageous comebacks, rather than her good looks that elicited them, the phenomenon entertained Haley. When alone, I ignored the very few looks and comments, though they resonated as a big deal. An exciting yet unsought and precarious big deal. Except for Erin, who cared the least but somehow had a boyfriend, we all waited for looks from attractive guys our age. But Grandpa’s ogling? Unforeseen, irksome and to most of us, unsettling.

Although Erin ignored Amanda’s accusation of oblivion to him, Erin was in fact blocking out his gawking at our thirteen and fourteen-year-old bodies. Ostensibly, I ignored him, yet he consumed my thoughts. When I dared glance again, his grandchildren had indeed given up getting him to guffaw over additions to their nearby sandcastles. Surrounding him on other beach chairs sat his wife, perhaps, his adult children and another older couple. His was the chair of the pack pointed straight at us. He returned my gaze as I took in his oversized, pale gut and hairy chest. I wondered why he couldn't at least try to watch us covertly. Couldn’t some member of grandpa’s party tell him to reel his eyeballs back into his skull?

After noticing me check on him, Amanda followed suit. He really doesn't stop, does he? I'm fascinated. He'd let his grandkids drown in the ocean while popping his nasty old man boner over Ali's boobs.

I froze as my face enflamed. My friends snickered.

He's not that old, probably sixty, London said, long accustomed to Amanda's outrageous declarations.

Or over your luscious booty, I said to Amanda. Late.

No, really, no, Amanda replied, with a deprecating half-laugh from above her faded Hawaiian print tankini. She was pear-shaped and packed on more muscle than the rest of us. Peering down at my chest, I decided my boobs weren't that big, just bigger than my friends'. I wore one of my favorite suits, an aqua bikini top with fuller bottoms. I chose it partly because I liked it and partly because I knew my friends envied that my mom let me wear a real bikini top. Its problematic nature became salient once Amanda called me out. Amanda was our resident orchestrator and calculator, who also enjoyed needling and instigating. All of this she did under shiny blond hair. London’s mom called it Amanda’s ironically sweet blond hair.

Abruptly aware of the possibility of being a spectacle, I followed Erin's lead and distracted myself, venturing over to dig with Haley and Erin.

"Manderz, I bet he has Finally Legals in his sock drawer!" Haley said. Amanda and Haley laughed their most exclusive laugh. London shook her head. She looked slim and respectable in her black two-piece, a separated version of Erin's racing suit. I figured they might be referring to a porn magazine, but I couldn't come up with hand signals to silently ask London. She was the only one who ever put those two in check. London could quickly tell right from wrong, analyze the course of action and provide muscle in arguments. I've always estimated that everyone needs a friend like London. Erin saved me the trouble of asking.

"What are Finally Legals?"

Amanda dropped her head into her towel. Deep laughter caused her back to heave.

We found one under Josh's bed. It's a porno. Haley popped her sunglasses up on her head. Then she rolled her eyes slow and high, in a premature struggle with Erin's naïveté. Look, it's a mag with naked girls, like eighteen-year-olds.

Oh. Erin frowned, narrowing her eyes at the sand as if digging became an intricate task. I waited to see who teased Erin first.

London’s mouth sank into a frown as she eyed the sand pit. Erin, you can definitely fit Hales in there.

Haley tucked into a ball on the edge of the pit. After rolling in soldier-style, she splayed out. I'll be a talking head in no time, Erin giggled. Erin’s mind certainly wouldn’t help us much in the task of confronting the darkness that lay ahead in a few years. Likewise, in combating the emotional ramifications, she’d only spin her wheels. Yet we’d need her just the same. Practical and duty-oriented, Erin could solve problems from a distance. As the oldest of four, proactivity and commitment to basic duties came naturally. She'd help stabilize us.

While we piled sand on top of Haley, I suffered a compulsion to check on Sir Creep-A-Lot. Yep, still staring. I wondered whether my boobs were bouncing as I moved the sand. I waddled to reposition with my back to him on Haley's other side.

His boner isn't going to be focused on my boobs! I told Haley.

What's a boner, guys? Erin tried to whisper, but Amanda sighed loudly, then threw her arms up in disbelief.

Coventry, how many times have I explained boners to you?

Never, said Erin.

Bullshit! Remember at camp when Hale's shorts kept bunching, and we said it looked like a boner. You even had a visual, Coventry!

Maybe I shouldn't have agreed to this, Haley said, watching her waist disappear beneath the sand. If I wasn’t stuck in here, Amanda could drop a beat, and I'd give him my best dance moves. Erin could watch his boner rising, and then she'd never forget! That way, she'll recognize it when her new lover boy gets one! Haley threw her head back and laughed. Erin glared at Haley for bringing Matt into it.

How is she the one with a boyfriend but doesn't get what boners are? I can't take it! Anyway, the Creepanator would be done if you danced, Hales, Amanda said. He'd replay it in his mind for the next ten years. If he lives that long.

I told you, he's not ancient. Probably has another twenty years of creeping left in him, said London. Haley snapped her fingers and danced from her ribs up in her sandy seat. Giving up on burying her, Erin and I watched Haley try to dance.

The Creepmaster cries no more tears, she rapped, swaying her arms from side to side above her head and snapping. He's hit his creeping golden years. Chilling beachside, peeping all day. Cuz hard-core creeping's just his way! Even Erin laughed. I can't dance half-buried, guys. Let me out, I need to shake my ass. She pretended to attempt an escape, wiggling under the sand. I want to see the beach, and I want the creep to see me! Then everyone can see him, how he stares. . .at. . .we! Haley yelled, and we erupted in laughter. I’d always marveled at how creating experiences with her jokes, stories and performances was a cinch for Haley.

What is so funny over there? Mrs. Miller called, rising and starting toward us.

The creep is finally looking away! Haley said before her mom approached and told us we’d pack up in ten minutes.

It seemed a typical day at the beach, but it stuck in my mind because he was a grandpa. And Grandpa just wouldn’t stop staring. I was glad it hadn’t happened to any of us alone. It would have been horrible for me alone if it was my boobs he liked. At least we could laugh when we were together. Especially with Haley echoing and with flare and humor. None of the five of us would ever dehumanize someone enough to steal their power. Back then we’d assumed no one we knew would, either.

In a few years, the rest of us would follow an unlucky pioneer into a haunted abyss. All that had seemed dark about that grandpa’s attention would pale. Grandpa’s stares would seem a puff of cigarette smoke in a wildfire. It would be up to us and her family to revive our pioneer. The main advantage we’d have is that we didn’t have to rely solely on Amanda’s dark and retaliatory mind, or Erin’s innocent and avoidant one. Together, the remaining four minds could work together to pull her out of the dark abyss. The real task would be assembling a larger coalition for her. One that sported a mosaic of intellectual, emotional and combative abilities, and even Haley’s sense of humor, to purge the path of the darkness it harbored.

Chapter Two

ALMOST FOUR YEARS LATER, we’d graduated high school, thrilled to say goodbye to our packed schedules and head to college in the fall. Our friends had helped Erin and me through our parents’ divorces. It seemed commiseration about split family life might always be one of our hobbies. More on the shy side, Erin and I had clung to our sports friends in high school. Always upping the ante, Haley and Amanda had started drinking with their older siblings our freshman year. They’d managed to slither out of the quandaries they loved slipping into and sometimes creating. Although all of us had found a boyfriend at some point, the only one who’d stuck was Erin’s Matt. All five of us had played two sports for all four years. London had started following the news intensely, held offices and helped Amanda captain soccer and lacrosse. Haley had shined and goofed her way onto homecoming court one year. Only Haley didn’t make the top fifth of our class, but the top third. Her mom had managed to overachieve her in every other realm, with quantified solitary tennis scores serving as her go-to for bragging. But crediting the all-star soccer mom was often unavoidable: sometimes Mrs. Miller even steered the rest of us to success. Most importantly, the five of us always laughed a ton.

The only one who’d studied out of state, I went to a small college in Pennsylvania. I didn’t know what I wanted to major in. I’d always loved history and government, and English came naturally. But psychology had struck a chord with me like no other class I’d taken. Really, I loved school so much and was so excited to take different humanities classes that I knew it would be semesters before I declared. After my final lacrosse season had gone well for me, I’d gotten to play in college.

The following fall, we were excited to be sophomores. When I saw Amanda’s name on my phone in the third week of October, I hesitated before opening the message, although I couldn't say why. She'd told me she wanted to see me before the end of the summer, but we’d gotten too busy and college started again before we knew it. Now it was late October. I hadn't talked to her but once on the phone when she'd called to tell me about her first soccer game in September.

I was about to enter a math exam, so I decided not to look at her text until afterward.

Once outside the math building, I read it.

Hope you had fun messing around with Ashton this summer. I can't believe you would stab me in the back like that. You're such—

The M-word. What did she think had happened between me and her old boyfriend? I didn't move from my