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PART THREE
Disco Fever - Part Four

by

Abigail Crabtree

   Hutch stood staring out the window at the street below him.  He'd lost track of how long he'd been standing there.  The evening stretched out long and lonely ahead of him.  Starsky's not going to be happy when he hears I backed out of my date.  I just don't see any point in continuing to go through the motions of dating.  Any ideas I ever had about living that happily-ever-after dream are all long gone.  It's just not meant to be for me.  My track record with women pretty much says it all.

   Turning away from the window, Hutch noticed it was almost seven o'clock.  Starsky's probably getting ready for his date about now.  Hutch could picture his partner standing in front of the bathroom mirror, looking this way and that, making sure his hair was just right.  He'd put on some of that musk cologne he always wears.  Then he'd unbutton another button or two on his shirt.  And, of course, he'd probably practice a few dance steps.  The guy really likes to flaunt it, that's for sure.  Of course, he does have plenty to flaunt. 

   After a trip to the kitchen for a beer, Hutch collapsed dejectedly onto the sofa.  Starsky's out there, having a great time on the dance floor, with that cute little Rita.  I should be happy for him.  Starsky still has his dream of a wife and family.  And if I were any kind of friend, I'd be hoping that his dream comes true.  Which, of course, means I don't dare say anything to him about why I'm not dating and how my feelings for him have been changing lately.  Starsky should get married and have a couple of kids.  He'd make a great dad. 

   Leaning his head back against the sofa, Hutch let out a deep sigh.  So, I'll have to pretend I'm dating.  Pretend?  You mean lie, don't you?  Okay, I'll have to lie about dating.  And I'll have to hide my real feelings from him.  Which is basically like lying.  Lying to Starsky is something I've never done.  Our whole relationship is based on trust.

   Filled with nervous tension, Hutch could no longer sit still and began a slow pace of the room.  There's no way I can pull this off.  Starsky knows me too well.  He'll start working on me, and he won't give up until he's satisfied he's pulled the truth out of me.  But I can't let him know.  I need time to work this all out.  But I don't have time.  He'll take one look at me Monday morning, and he'll know something's wrong.

   Draining his beer, Hutch took the empty bottle to the kitchen and grabbed another cold one out of the refrigerator.  Opening the bottle, Hutch tossed the cap into the trash.  Okay, so I have to stay away from Starsky until I can get a grip on things.  But how can I stay away from him without making him suspicious? 

   Leaning back against the counter, Hutch felt more alone and confused than he ever remembered feeling.  I can't go to the one person I've always gone to when I've felt this way. 

   Feeling closed in, Hutch suddenly needed to get out of his apartment.  Maybe a drive will clear my head.

   After driving for several hours, Hutch found himself barely able to keep his eyes open and no closer to solving his problem.  Fatigue and despair won out, and he pulled into a small motel.  Looking around, he realized he wasn't even sure where he had ended up.  Doesn't really matter where I am.  I'll grab a few hours of sleep and head home.  And then what?  Then I decide.  Do I take some time off and disappear for a while, or do I confess my deepest darkest feelings to my best friend?  Couple of great choices there. 

TO BE CONTINUED...