The Plan

Trigger Warning: This story contains a storyline consistent with sexual predation. It does not involve graphic violence, but readers should take note.*

Jessa decided she needed to stuff another 6 tissues in her bra after she looked in the mirror. The six she’d already used looked flat when folded and too pointy when she balled them up. That wouldn’t do. She needed to add a few more to each side to really round out the cups for a natural look. If only she’d had time to make pudding after school. Then she could have filled up plastic baggies the way she’d seen Janie do before Peter Horsmon’s graduation party, so that the breasts looked heavy in her shirt. Besides, the tissues weren’t soft either. It seemed the Dements were destined to use the discount dollar brands for everything these days, even wispy-old tissues, Jessa thought regretfully.  Pudding, by comparison, would have a nice, smooth, cooling effect on her skin that she’d far prefer. Oh well, there just wasn’t time if she was going to make it to the start of Dale’s shift at Grabo’s Country Bar.

Dale. The thought of his soft, brown hair and smooth, angular chin quickened her heart and her fingers lingered over her flat breasts as she gazed at her reflection. Enough of that, Jessa, she thought to herself. She’d wasted enough hours in front of that hazy mirror, wiling away her life while daydreaming. She threw on the shirt she’d laid out that would clearly show the outline of her new pink bra and raced to the back porch where her bike sat, ignoring all the voices screeching at her as she tore through the house. Janie was home. She was the oldest anyway so she could handle whatever it was by herself. Today, she had a plan.  Today, she was finally going to talk to Dale Cooper.

On the days she could make it, Jessa liked to be seated at the counter and watch Dale walk in after his mom dropped him off at the back of the restaurant. To be fair, he usually had to run in as he was always a tad late. Jessa assumed that was because Dale had six little brothers and sisters and whose mom had time for anything when they had seven kids, much less getting a high schooler to work on time. That was another thing she liked about Dale. He was an oldest child, which made him a hard worker and a provider. He probably gave half his earnings to his mom to help care for those sticky-faced rugrats that were always hanging out the window, waving him off to work. He was a hero, she just knew.

Grabo’s Country Bar was right across the street from the town’s only park-n-ride. That made it a popular stop for happy hours on any regular weekday but today was two-for-one crawfish basket night, which meant Jessa would probably have to fight for a seat at the counter. She pedaled her ten-speed Continental as fast as her spindly legs would take her. Darn this sweat, she thought, these tissues are going to turn into papier mache.

She bounced breathlessly into the restaurant just as Dale’s mom’s Dodge Caravan came crunching through the gravel parking lot.

"Phew, made it," Jessa exhaled inwardly. If it weren’t so busy, she would have run into the bathroom to adjust herself, but as it was, the dining room was filling up and there was only one counter stool left.  To her luck, it was a stool that gave her a clear view of the kitchen window, behind which Dale washed dishes. He occasionally came out to bus the bar if the usual guy, Homer, wasn’t there. She didn’t know Homer all that well, but she’d heard a rumor that he followed Carey Singleton through Piggly Wiggly last year, and that was enough for her. She would never stuff her bra for him with his scratchy face, sweaty armpits, and lumpy hands.

Jessa bent herself onto the stool between a middle-aged man in a drab gray suit and tie, and a petite, blonde-haired girl Jessa vaguely recognized from her profile. The man to her left barely gave her a passing glance, content to hunch over his beer and fiddle with a cardboard coaster, running it between each finger over and through and over again. Dang, he’s pretty fast with that, Jessa thought.

Jessa’s heart sank as she shifted her bottom more fully onto her seat and realized that the girl to her right was none other than Cassidy Shoreline. The Shoreline family owned several car dealerships in the area, and Cassidy was known to have gone to second base with Roger Gundalson after the Drummond High Homecoming game last fall. Janie had told her after Jessa had pried that nugget out of her, having seen Cassidy and Roger walking hand in hand at the game. Roger wasn’t bad-looking himself, and Jessa paid attention to these things.

Cassidy gave a shy smile in Jessa’s direction. Jessa decided she needed act braver than she felt to take control of this situation lest Cassidy become a fly in the butter of her plan. It took her enough courage to get out here the way she did. She needed this afternoon to be her victory.

“Hey, I think I know you. You’re Cassidy, right? I’ve seen you ‘round Drummond High.” Jessa gave her a look that she hoped conveyed that she could be the alpha girl between the two.

“Yes, that’s right. How do you do?” Cassidy said shyly. She blushed as she took a nervous sip of her pink lemonade.  

“You heard about the two-for-one crawfish basket, right? You can’t get a much better deal around here on a Tuesday. That what bring you in?” Jessa fished politely.

Cassidy blushed more furiously and made a job of slurping her lemonade. “Well, not exactly…though I do love a good crawfish basket,” Cassidy finished after a pause. Jessa had a slowly sinking feeling at that.

“Oh, come on now, don’t be coy. I’m a modern girl – what’re you hidin’ behind that straw?” Jessa had to know now. She hadn’t seen this girl in this establishment for all the weeks she’d been coming to lay eyes on Dale. Cassidy also didn’t fit the profile of the usual clientele, which was suspicious in and of itself. Jessa followed as Cassidy’s eyes lifted and settled on Dale, her Dale.  Jessa leaned into the counter as her blood squirreled through her veins. She barely noticed the suited man to her left mishandle his finger-coaster and fumble his beer.

Cassidy’s eyes went wide as the beer glass shattered, but it took the feel of cold beer running under her elbows and dripping onto her shirt for Jessa to turn her attention. She reared back, desperate to save the remains of the tissues that were so optimistically stuffed into her shirt.

The waitress who’d been busy down at the other end of the bar witnessed the commotion and called into the back, “Dale, you back there? We could use some help with a clean-up. Grab some towels outta the utility.”

 At the sound of his name, Jessa felt sick and giddy at once. She did not want this to be how she looked the first time she talked to Dale Cooper, but she could not help the buzzing in her ears knowing he was coming her way. He might even need to put his hands on her to help her clean her shirt, she briefly hoped. Oh, but the tissues, damn it all.

Dale hurried around the corner with a handful of grayish, white towels, and quickly lapped up splattered beer and gathered the shards of broken glass. 

“Sorry ‘bout that, son,” the man in the gray suit said lamely.

“Aw, it ain’t nothing,” Dale said charitably as he finally looked up. His eyes were an even prettier shade of green up close than Jessa could have hoped. The only problem was they were locked in on the wrong girl. 

“Cassidy, oh hey, you came,” Dale stammered.

“Hey,” Cassidy managed, blushing crimson once again. Jessa had enough presence of mind to nearly roll her eyes out loud at Cassidy’s stupid, shy self. He couldn’t go for Cassidy, she’d just shown up. Jessa was the one who’d pined. She had to turn his attention. After all this, she couldn’t be too chicken-shit to even say hello, but still, her words were caught.

“Can I get another beer,” the man in the suit asked, cutting through Jessa's increasing panic.

“Oh sure, let me get your waitress,” Dale tore his eyes away from Cassidy, cracking a small hole open in Jessa’s chest. Now, she said to herself, NOW.

“Uh uh, I’ll take one, too,” Jessa stammered out as her desperate heart nearly beat out of her skin. Dale finally looked at her, his eyes widening ever so slightly in surprise.

“Sure thing, Mrs. Dement. Tell Janie congrats on acing Mr. Gibson’s algebra test yesterday. She said you made her a study plan. Well, it paid off far as I can tell.”

Jessa swooned. He spoke to me. Yes, she thought, she knew how to make a good plan.