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The Link Season 2 : The Hunted

The Link Season 2 : The Hunted

By IamBlayse in 27 Oct 2017 | 11:35
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IamBlayse IamBlayse

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Starting soon
In case you haven't read the season 1 here is the link
https://www.coolval.com/forumsss/topic/the-link-season-1/
27 Oct 2017 | 11:35
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bring it on [hr] Just a click, and you are reading the desired Episodes. [color =purple](Scroll down for Episode 1)[/color] Episode 2
27 Oct 2017 | 11:43
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waiting mode activated
27 Oct 2017 | 11:54
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Waiting
28 Oct 2017 | 02:08
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Ayt waiting patiently and impatiently for it
28 Oct 2017 | 04:10
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30 Oct 2017 | 09:05
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Episode 1- Teegan I am human, mostly. At least, that's what I've been told. I don't always feel human. Then again, what high schooler does? My friend Samantha tells me she doesn't feel normal either, and she came into the world the old-fashioned way. Maybe I would feel more normal if I had a date for the prom. Old Town, Maine is where I've lived most of my life. I don't remember my early childhood, which I'm told was fairly exciting. My mom tells me I was a happy baby, and Dad fondly calls me Stinky from time to time. Not sure how that's supposed to make me feel. Mom always scolds him and forgives him in the same breath. I was born with a gift, or so they call it. Uncle Hank calls it my power. I've never given it a name and usually find it more of a nuisance. It circulates in my mind, hemmed in by barriers I have built so that it doesn't leach out at the simplest touch. Consciously, I can keep it stable and inside. Others find it amazing, though I have yet to see any great benefits. I guess it's like being a rock star. You play all that wonderful music, but barely hear it yourself because the amplifiers have ruined your ears. The world is filled with music only I can hear. It's not really a sound as the ears know it, more a bombardment of waves that moves into and through me. I know them to be people, but the din is overwhelming and useless. I've learned to filter it out of my life, ignoring what I don't understand and letting it pass untouched, or unthought of. Some of the rhythms I know well and don't ignore, though I can if I choose. My younger brother Zane thinks it's a power. Of course, he thinks Uncle Hank is always right about everything. I'm sure it has something to do with the gifts Uncle Hank brings during his visits. I bonded with Zane when he was still in my mother's womb. My dad told me it was the most amazing thing he had ever felt, but of course, I was too young to remember. I keep wondering if I peaked at a year-old and it's all downhill from there. Bonding is a lot like recognizing a voice. In the midst of the cacophony, I can find those I know well. The better I know them, the easier they are to find and the harder they are to block. Everyone has their unique set of rhythms. By touching someone new, I can, if I choose, synchronize my music with theirs. The waves are more pronounced when I touch, allowing me to easily separate them from the noise. Uncle Hank thinks touching increases the resonance. I just know it allows me to single them out from a world of noise. I don't synchronize with others. My family are the voices I know best and I prefer to keep it that way. Mom requires a shift in style, more of a twangy country beat. Zane's music is quicker with a slight staccato pattern. Dad hardly takes any effort. Our emanations are nearly the same, bonding with him is as easy as breathing. He's like a cozy blanket over my mind when we flow together. It's like I was designed for him. Designed is a good word for what I am. "Come on, Teegs," Zane begged, "Mom said I can go if you drive me." Zane had shortened my name from Teegan to Teegs when he was two. I hated that some of my friends had latched onto it as well. Zane had friends he wanted to meet at the mall in Bangor. Of course, that meant I would have to hang out until he was done. I would have said no, but I could feel how much he wanted it. No matter what barriers I build, my family could always leak through when I lost concentration. Truly a nuisance. "You'll owe me," I said. I might as well have given him a million dollars. His joy surged into me. Okay, it wasn't all a nuisance. I could probably parley that joy into him doing some of my chores. I watched his blond hair bouncing as he ran upstairs to get ready. It was a strange cut, buzzed short around his ears and neck, but longer at the top so that it could be parted down the middle. "Someone must have said yes," my Mom said as she rounded the corner from the kitchen. She always worked from home when we had a holiday from school. Not that we needed an adult, it was just a habit that she had continued from when we were younger. "No secrets in this house," I said, letting it become a nuisance again. Mom leaned down as she passed and kissed my forehead. At the same time, I felt her love mixed with a little pride. I wanted to hate the intrusion, but it felt good. I really needed to graduate and head out on my own. I needed the distance to find who I am without the constant intrusions. "I'm glad you look out for him," Mom said. "He always 'does' before he thinks. With you around, he thinks more." "That's how I spend my time," I complained, "thinking." Mom stopped and turned back toward me. She had been growing her hair longer. Not as long as mine, but past her shoulders. I think she was dying it darker, trying to fight off some gray. "Do I hear a little self-pity?" Mom asked. Her smile disarmed my next complaint. She rounded the couch and sat down next to me. I wasn't prepared for a mother-daughter talk, but I did want to complain. "Zane's got more plans than I do," I said, "more friends, more things to do. I have nothing. Maybe I'll become a hermit, or join a convent." "Giving up at eighteen," my mother teased. Her hand wrapped around my shoulder and pulled me close. "It's not funny," I said, sending my disgust when I should have kept it to myself, "I'll be one of those cat ladies you see on the news." I was older than my birth certificate. My birthday was moved two and a half months forward from my actual birth. We were in hiding, and the date change helped keep my identity hidden. Something about making database queries less effective. "Still no date?" Mom asked. I felt her sympathy and was happy it didn't contain pity. Pity would have made me angry and I didn't want to be mad. I wanted to be sad. "I'll be the only one without a date," I sighed, "destined to the prom-loser table." I felt a burst of love from Dad. He was out of town on business and my sadness leaked. He could be a million miles away, and I would feel him. I concentrated and blocked his link. He was ruining a perfectly good bout of misery. I didn't want to be content with my lot in life; I wanted more. "There's still plenty of time," Mom said, "you could always ask someone yourself." I rolled my eyes. "Women don't ask men," I said, "it would just confirm I'm desperate. Look at the loner begging for a date." I over did the waving of my arms, but I was exasperated. "Your father would have never asked me," Mom said. "Some men need a little prodding. There's nothing wrong with a woman asking a man in this day and age." It was easy for her to say. She had the love of her life. Parents always pretended that things were easy after their lives were settled. Mine was unsettled and there was no way I could ask a guy to the prom. "Yeah, I guess," I lied. "It's just that it's supposed to work the other way." Samantha turned down one guy and then accepted Gene's request. She had an overflow, making me feel ugly and unwanted. I was happy for her, of course. Sort of. It would be better all around if some guy would just ask. "If life were perfect, we wouldn't have had to change our name and hide here in Maine," Mom said, "There's always something that throws a wrench in the works. It's how we deal with those things that defines us." I didn't roll my eyes. I wanted to, but I knew it would insult her. She had no idea how bad it felt to be unwanted. Well, unwanted by people outside of my family. I feel nearly invisible to my peers. "Samantha has a date," I complained. "How can I show up without a date?" "You've cut off your father," Mom interrupted. Her smile was forgiving, "This is really bothering you." "He makes me forget that I'm unwanted," I admitted. "You're far from unwanted," Mom said, pulling me tighter, "I'm sure if you asked someone, they would jump at the chance. There are probably a bunch of boys trying to work up the courage to ask you." I collapsed into her embrace. "Then why don't they?" I said, my eyes welling up. "Their fear is no less than yours," Mom whispered, stroking the back of my hair. "The idea that you would tell them 'no' is a crushing weight." "Two boys have asked Samantha," I countered. "She's not as smart as you," Mom continued. "Boys fear what an intelligent girl might say. Males have a problem not being superior. They don't always recognize that we're just people on the inside." "Are you telling me to act stupid?" I asked. Mom chuckled and kissed my forehead. I liked the laugh, it was soft and meant to counter my statement. I curled in closer, something I hadn't done in a few years. I could feel how much Mom liked it. "Never be what you're not," Mom said softly. "There's a man out there waiting to meet you. You may not find him tomorrow, next week, or in a year. Just trust me that he's out there feeling empty, and waiting for you to fill up his life. When you find him, you have to have the courage to tell him so." "What if he doesn't want a freak?" I said. The thought came so quickly I didn't have a chance to hold it back. For many years, my so called power had eaten at me. I was unique in the world, destined to float through it as an anomaly. Alone. "My sweet girl," Mom said, her eyes now as wet as mine, "you are not and never will be a freak. You have more love than anyone. There's someone out there; you just need to find him and flatten his tires." I half cried, half laughed at her words. Dad had told us about my late Grandmother's tale of meeting her husband, my grandfather. A delivery man whose tires she secretly slashed to get him to stay awhile. "You want me to play dirty," I said, my smile creeping toward my teary eyes. "Absolutely," Mom said, wiping her eyes, "Men can be idiots when it comes to women. They learn quickly enough with our help. Your father was no different." "There aren't many men like Daddy," I sighed. "No," Mom said, smiling about things I didn't want to know, "but there is someone out there who will someday hold your heart more tightly than your father." I liked the idea of finding someone I could love and be loved by. I had been kissed a few times and found it enjoyable. Nothing like those heart-pounding experiences I had read about. Certainly nothing like the passion I had seen in the movies. Maybe I should have let it go beyond kissing. I was sure I was missing something. "Are you two done?" Zane called from the top of the stairs. I blushed and wiped my eyes. It sucks when I forget to shut him out of my moods. I knew he wanted to get going, with his friends waiting and an exciting life to pursue. "Yes," I shouted back. Mom kissed my forehead again and let me go. Her smile was as important as her kiss. Nothing was solved, yet I felt a little better. It was good to know that men were stupid. Somehow, it was important to know they were my equal. ***** "If I tell you something, you promise not to get mad?" Zane asked me as he buckled his seatbelt. I looked over as I pushed the start button. He had on his I've-done-something-I-regret face. The same one he had on when Dad made him tell me he was the one who spilled ink on my American Girl doll's dress in the fifth grade. "No," I said and meant it. I pulled the car out of the driveway. "I heard what you said to Mom," Zane said anyway, then his voice went to a whisper, "then I felt it." "So what," I nearly yelled, "like you never have issues. You should mind your own damn business." "You know I can't," Zane said, "it's not like I can stop it." My bond to my family had become an all or nothing thing. Any feelings beyond normal were broadcast loudly. "Sorry." "It's my fault," Zane said as he looked at his feet. I felt his shame and regret. "What," I said, trying to remember to look at the road, "that I'm too weird to be dated?" "No," Zane stuttered, "I mean yes, but not because you're weird." "What are you babbling about?" "Mason Crawford asked me about you," Zane said. "He's a jerk," I said quickly. Mason was only interested in Mason. He broke into the school once to have a look at an upcoming math test. Everyone knew he did it, but he blamed it on Levi Patterson, a freshman, who had helped him. Levi was immediately expelled and ended up in a private school. "He's not the first one to ask," Zane admitted. "Ask what?" "About you," Zane hedged. "What about me?" "Guys ask me about you," Zane replied. "They think I control your social calendar or something." "Ask what?" I repeated, looking at Zane. "The road," Zane said quickly, pointing forward. I looked back and straightened the car. I took a deep breath and repeated my question again. "They want to know things," Zane said, "like if you're with anyone. I don't like how they say it, so I sort of brush them off." "What did you say?" I asked, wondering if I should be angry. "Mason asked if you had a date for the prom," Zane said, then he looked out the passenger window and mumbled something I didn't understand. I could feel Zane's apprehension. It was ink all over my doll's dress again. "Zane?" "I told him you had a date," Zane said. "So what?" I said, "he's a jerk." "It kind of got around school," Zane said. He gritted his teeth and looked back at me. "That he asked about me?" "That you already have a date," Zane admitted. Anger, mixed with relief, filled me quickly. Anger that I was dateless due to my brother, relief because it wasn't that I was a social outcast. "The road!" Zane shouted. My eyes refocused, and I pulled the car back across the centerline and into my lane. A million feelings ran through me, and I lost concentration. I felt my father's feelings intermingle with my own stabilizing my train of thought. The anger lessened. "The thought of Mason even talking to you..." Zane said, "well, I wanted to hit him." I took a deep breath and concentrated on my driving. "He'd kill you," I said. Mason was the star running back for the football team. One of the reasons the school didn't look too deep into the break-in. "I lied," Zane admitted. "I didn't think it would go any further. They shouldn't be asking me about you." I could feel the contradiction in his mind. He wanted to undo it, and yet do it again. Whatever problems we had, Zane and I were brother and sister. Closer than most due to my power. "Next time," I said as calmly as I could, "tell me when crap like that happens." "Sorry." "Who did you say I was going with?" I asked. "Some college guy," Zane replied, "he's a lot bigger than Mason." I had to laugh. My brother was protecting me as best he could, and now I had an imaginary Frankenstein-like boyfriend. "I didn't want him to think he had a chance," Zane added in his defense. "He never did," I said when my breath returned, "and thank you." "You're not mad?" "Furious," I said, "and grateful." How could I hold it against him? I couldn't, not with my father's strength in me. I did need a date for the prom, but I needed a faithful brother more. "You know that Mom doesn't like you blocking Dad," Zane said almost offhandedly. He had felt me letting Dad in again. "She's never said anything to me," I said, "I only do it when I want to feel only me. It's hard sometimes, being with everyone." "Mom likes to feel Dad," Zane said with a stupid smile. "When you block him, you block her from him." "Gross," I said, imagining what he was implying. "Yep," Zane laughed, "better you than me." I couldn't imagine how others would feel about my family. Zane grew up with it from before day-one. He knew no other way. Dad and Mom had taken it on of their free will. I wondered what kind of family I could have. Would it be true love or some type of bonded slavery? I often wondered if I was the reason Mom and Dad were Mom and Dad.
30 Oct 2017 | 09:08
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Seated next
30 Oct 2017 | 11:36
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Fire on
30 Oct 2017 | 17:12
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Episode 2 - Teegan "Two hours," I reminded Zane as I pulled up in front of Dick's Sporting Goods. The mall wasn't worth two hours of browsing, but if I walked slowly enough, I could chew up the time. "Three," Zane negotiated as he unbuckled. "Two or you're walking home," I insisted. He smiled, knowing I wouldn't live up to the threat. "I'll call you in two," Zane said, and quickly left before I could solidify the time. He would call me in two hours and attempt to pad the clock. I sighed and drove to the other side of the mall to park next to Macy's. Their shoe department had some boots I had been eyeing. If they were on sale, it might make the trip worthwhile. No way Mom would turn me down if I'm driving Zane around. The store was empty of customers as I made my way to the shoe department. It was nice to roam the aisles without having to dodge strollers and bags. I found the boots quickly, brown leather with a brass buckle holding barely useful leather straps secure above the ankle. It was a tall boot that would look great with my skirts. I liked the lines and the way it would shape my calf. The $260 price tag was more than Mom would swallow, at least not without a birthday or Christmas. "Those would look so good on you," I heard from behind me. I recognized the voice as Samantha's and turned with a smile. "They would, wouldn't they?" I agreed. Samantha nodded. I held my smile even though her hand was entwined with Gene's. I was disappointed she wasn't alone. I hated my jealousy. "Hi, Gene." "Hi, Teegs," Gene said as he pushed some of his auburn hair out of his eyes with his free hand. He had one of those chiseled faces I wasn't sure was handsome. I knew he wasn't ugly, or average, it was just that something wasn't quite right with the symmetry. "A little over my budget right now," I added, putting the boot back on the display table. "You two doing some shopping?" "Just hanging out," Samantha smiled. Gene looked strangely at her like he didn't understand. I could see Samantha squeeze his hand hard. His face went quiet, and he left it alone. "Prom dress?" I asked. Samantha didn't want to remind me that I was without a date. "Tux," Samantha replied almost sadly. I loved her and hated her in the same thought. It wasn't pity in her tone; it was regret. "You shopping for boots?" she asked, trying to change the subject. "NO, chauffeur," I replied, "Zane is running around here somewhere." "Doesn't he have his license yet?" Gene asked. He let go of Samantha's hand, strangely making me feel a little better. "Another five months," I answered shaking my head, "We'll have to share the car then, so I'm not sure I'm looking forward to it." "Look," Gene said, "we don't know what we're doing. If you got some time, maybe you could help out." His eyes were honest though Samantha looked hesitant. "I could use another opinion," Gene added as he looked at Samantha, then back at me. I wasn't sure if I wanted to get involved in Gene's tux. Being the third wheel wasn't appealing. "You've always had better taste than me," Samantha said. "We could use the help." There was an honest pleading in her voice. I had two hours to kill. "Are you sure I wouldn't be in the way?" "Not if you know anything about tuxes," Gene said. "Please," Samantha said. She smiled and looked at me in a way only I would understand. It wasn't the get-lost look; it was her please-come-with-me face. "Well," I said, "I'm not sure I know what's fashionable, but I can veto the dogs." Gene smiled and nodded his head. Samantha grabbed my hand and pulled me down the aisle. At least I wasn't going to wallow in self-pity all day.We spent the walk to the formal store discussing Mr. Prichard's pre-calc test. Everyone was in agreement that it was way too difficult, and contained problems we'd never discussed in class. Mr. Prichard was a math geek and thought the world loved it as much as he did. He always wore a bow tie and began the day with 'Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the world of numbers.' 'Welcome to hell,' most of us would think. "He'll have to curve," Gene said, more trying to convince himself than us. Gene's parents forced him into AP classes. He had always struggled to keep his head above water. "There's always someone that wrecks the curve," Samantha said, then turned her head. "Isn't that right Caleb?" I turned to find Caleb McGuire following about five steps behind us. His face turned ten shades of red as he fumbled for a response. Scholastically, Caleb was brilliant. Socially, he lacked a strong presence. I could tell that Samantha calling him out hurt him almost physically. "I screwed up the extra credit problem," Caleb said defensively. His raven hair was hanging sloppily over his ears, almost like he was in the midst of trying to grow it long. The part on the left side was askew with windblown strands crisscrossing over it. "Did you screw up the curve?" Gene asked ominously. I was surprised when Caleb didn't flinch. I didn't know him well, but I figured he would be fearful around someone as tall as Gene. Caleb played violin in the school orchestra. Gene; basketball and track. "Probably," Caleb replied strongly, "I can't dunk a ball, so I ace tests." I was surprised at his stance. It wasn't threatening, but it was wall-like. He wasn't going to back down at Gene's words. Caleb was my size, around a head shorter than Gene. "Touché," Gene laughed. Caleb relaxed and smiled. I heard Samantha let out a breath. She hadn't been sure of how Gene would react. "You know anything about tuxes?" Gene asked. "About as much as dunking a ball," Caleb admitted. "Well," Samantha said, "you can join us anyway. Save you the trouble of following us around." "I wasn't following," Caleb defended himself. His face was going red again. "Come," I said, "keep me company. I don't want to feel like the third wheel." Caleb wasn't really in my circle of friends, but his backbone impressed me and I wanted Samantha to stop teasing him. I don't think he could hold his own against a woman. He brightened immediately and agreed. I felt his smile was more than it should have been. We were only going tux shopping. "So," Gene said when the four of us were mobile again, "when are we going to meet this college guy? I hear he plays for Notre Dame." It was my turn to blush. "What are you talking about?" Samantha asked. She looked to Gene, then to me in confusion. I sighed. "I heard Teegan's date goes to Notre Dame," Gene replied to Samantha. Samantha looked at me, probably wondering why I never told her. "I heard he's the backup left tackle," Caleb added. "There's no college guy," I said, "Zane made it up and it got around." Weirdly, Caleb smiled again. I turned away from him, not understanding why he found my datelessness humorous. "Why would he do that?" Samantha asked. "Mason Crawford asked him if I had a date for the prom," I replied. "He's a jerk," Samantha said. I nodded. "Zane didn't know what to do, so he made up a guy bigger than Mason," I said. Gene laughed, and Samantha slugged him in the shoulder. "Why didn't you tell me?" Samantha demanded of Gene. "You guys are like best friends," Gene defended himself, "I thought I was the last to know." Samantha turned to me. "I just found out on the ride over," I said, shrugging my shoulders. "That's why no one's asked you to the prom," Samantha said, moving closer to me. "God! I was beginning to think all the guys were just stupid." "I can dump this violent woman," Gene said as he rubbed his arm where Samantha had hit him, "and escort you to the prom." Samantha went still facing me, away from Gene. I could see the smile on her face, but Gene only saw the stillness. "I'm joking, Sam," Gene pleaded. Samantha turned and showed him her smile. For a second, I thought they were going to do some mushy public display. Instead, he held out his hand, and she took it. I guessed that's how they forgave the little things. "Store's just around the corner," Caleb said, pointing the way. He still had that strange smirk on his face. It was slightly uncomfortable, but we followed his lead anyway. We were all busy looking at the manikins, trying to envision the displayed tuxes on Gene. All of the attendants seemed to be busy at the moment. Samantha didn't seem pleased with any she was seeing, and Gene looked completely out of place. I was able to nix a few of the styles, but was indeterminate about the rest. "What color is your dress?" Caleb asked out of the blue. His eyes moved to Samantha, who looked surprised at his question. "Off white," Samantha replied, "I think they called it champagne." Caleb nodded and walked farther down an aisle as if the information had meaning. He was busy along a rack as the rest of us tried not to look stupid. I hadn't realized how many styles there were. Samantha was busy pointing out certain looks and Gene dutifully shrugged his shoulders. "Here," Caleb said, handing a set of hangers filled with clothes to Gene. I was again struck by the confidence he showed. I've been going to school with him for years, and never knew he had an individual thought. Of course, I had never spent any time with him before. Gene shrugged and took the clothes into the dressing room. "I thought you didn't know anything about tuxes," I pointed out quietly to Caleb. Samantha was three racks over, still mesmerized by the number of choices. "I know everything there is to know about dunking a ball," Caleb whispered, "I'm just not tall enough to do it." I covered my mouth and held back a laugh. Again he surprised me. Orchestra nerd with a sense of humor. "Where are you going after you graduate?" I asked, shifting closer. His humor had shrunk my personal space. Caleb was becoming one of those surprising people you wouldn't mind knowing better. "Not sure," Caleb said, moving a step away under the guise of examining a tux further down the rack. "I've been accepted to MIT, but my parents want me to go to Stanford." My eyes widened. I didn't know he was that smart. I didn't think anyone at our school went to those types of schools. "Wow," Was all I could say. Caleb shrugged. "I would prefer Northwestern," Caleb sighed. "I love the violin more than math, and they have a killer program." He looked at me, and I saw sadness in his eyes. "My parents only see dollar signs." "Have you told them?" I asked, more interested than someone who barely knew him should be. "Yep," Caleb replied, nodding. I could see his parents dislike of the idea on his face. I didn't like the resignation. "You know," I said, lightening my tone, "I don't think I have ever heard you play. I mean, I've heard the orchestra, but never just you." "I'm playing on Saturday," Caleb said, "I've been invited by the Smooth Gliders." He looked at me with apprehension. "Well, their sax player, at least." "You mean for money?" I asked. I didn't know he was that good. "Not this time," Caleb smiled, "though I have done weddings and things." He was proud of his music. I could hear it in his voice. "So, like, you just jam with them or something?" "Sort of," Caleb replied, turning toward me, "Tom, the sax player, was a speaker at a music workshop I attended last year. He played something that really got to me." He smiled deeply. "You know, when a song just sort of grabs you?" I nodded knowing exactly what he meant. "Well, it was a work in progress, and Tom and I improvised on it instead of eating lunch." Caleb chuckled as he remembered. "It was like I knew where the tune was headed. Violin and sax are a really odd pair, but it worked. We've been trading emails every since." "You're going to play it for an audience?" "Sure," Caleb said, "music is for ears. The more, the better." I couldn't imagine getting on stage and performing for a crowd. Again, his confidence impressed me. "It's just a side piece, nothing headliner, but it will be fun to play with a professional." "Wow," I said again. I had Caleb sorted beneath me on the social scale. Now I wondered if it was me below him. High school was ending, and the normal sorting was quickly disintegrating. "If you'd like to hear," Caleb said, his voice weakening as he spoke, "I can get you a seat." "Sure," I agreed, "I can promise at least one standing ovation." It had been a long time since my words had made someone outside my family happy. His face lit up, and he stood taller. "Okay," Caleb said, "give me your number and I'll text the information when I get home." I was giving him my number when Gene walked out of the changing room. "Damn," Samantha said too loudly. Gene's eyebrows raised at her word. He turned into a three paneled mirror. "Damn," Gene repeated. He looked beyond handsome, even if the pants did need altering. It was a black two button jacket cut short at the hip. A shocking white shirt with point collars was held firm by a champagne bow tie. Between the shirt and jacket was a champagne four button vest. I don't think Gene ever looked so good. "You, my man," Gene said to Caleb, "are my new best friend." "It looks really good," I said. "Maybe you should dump Samantha." "Shut your eyes girl," Samantha said, moving toward Gene quickly. "This one is mine." It was the first time I had ever seen Gene's cheeks color. "We are going to look so good together," Samantha continued as she brushed her hands along the jacket. Her happiness was contagious. I found a true smile for her as my idiotic jealousy finally took a backseat. "I feel like 007," Gene said smiling. "Get the pocket silk to match," Caleb said, moving forward. "The what?" Gene asked. "Handkerchief," Caleb clarified, "it sticks out of your pocket. You know, like 007." Gene laughed as Samantha nodded in agreement. It was another hour before Gene was measured and his tux, with pocket silk, was on order for the prom. Caleb left in the middle of it. I could sense that he thought he was pushing his welcome into our group. I didn't want him to feel uncomfortable, so I didn't dissuade him. I only reminded him to text me the details of his concert. "You made a date with the math geek?" Samantha asked with surprise. "Don't call him that," I said quickly. Maybe too quickly. "Sorry." "It's not a date," I clarified. "He's playing in a real band, so I told him I'd come and support him." "Well, he does have that Beatles hair thing going on," Samantha laughed. "Stop it," I said and laughed with her. It was true. "The man has good taste in clothes," Gene said, sliding up next to us. "He does have that," Samantha said, grabbing Gene's hand. "I thought he didn't know anything about tuxes." "About as much as he knows about dunking basketballs," I said, hiding my smile. "Well, I owe him," Gene said. "At least, I won't look like a dweeb at the prom." "You'll be with me," Samantha bragged. "That alone will remove any dweebiness." I laughed louder than I should have. Like clockwork, Zane called at the appointed time and begged another hour from me. I was in a good mood, so I acquiesced. It was nice to feel Mom and Dad's flash of approval at Zane's happiness. Sometimes, it wasn't a nuisance.
5 Nov 2017 | 10:55
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Following
5 Nov 2017 | 12:28
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Intresting
5 Nov 2017 | 13:13
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Following
5 Nov 2017 | 14:11
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Ride o bro
6 Nov 2017 | 00:54
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Tegs you just have to understand that you are not a freak and enjoy life
7 Nov 2017 | 03:21
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Episode 3- Caleb I got myself out of there as quickly as I could. For once in my life, I didn't overstay my welcome. Gene Haverston himself called me his new best friend. I knew he meant it in jest, but it was a good thing to hear him say out loud. People like him usually didn't give people like me the time of day. Maybe, we're all just getting older. I made Teegan Fuller smile. That, above all else, was my greatest victory. That, and she didn't have a date for prom. I had trouble not grinning like a fool as I made my way to my car. I actually talked with her and she was coming to see me perform. It was like a dream come true. My mother had told me that my senior year would be the best. I never believed her, since the previous years were misery compounded. I always thought people were stupid, and I a fool when I tried to lower myself to their level. Today, I found out people weren't stupid. They just thought differently, and I was the fool for not accepting it. Fate. That is the only word I could put to the events of the day. I had thought the dentist appointment the day before a chore, and instead, it was a blessing. The waiting room was backed up, and I read that old copy of GQ out of boredom. I never thought an article on tuxes would be of any importance in my life. I never even envisioned going to the prom. I made a joke and Teegan laughed. I was almost an idiot and corrected the implied tux expertise, but something stopped me. Something told me to let her laugh. To let her enjoy herself. I couldn't believe how good it made me feel to hear her laugh with me. About two blocks away from the mall, an insistent tone broke into my thoughts. I had forgotten to buckle my seatbelt. I laughed. Teegan was filling my mind, and everything else was blotted out. I almost told her twice. Twice, I held my tongue. Now she was coming to hear me play. I was so happy I kept my mouth shut. I drove the whole way home with the seat belt warning going off. No desire to follow the rules, I turned up the radio and let the music drown out the warning. For the day, I was a rebel, taking chances and acting smooth. "Did you pick up socks?" My mom asked as I entered the house. "Nope," I replied. I accomplished nothing I set out to do. I accomplished everything I desired to do. I walked over to the couch and returned the forty dollars Mom had given me. The lost expression on her face pleased me. I couldn't remember the last time I didn't do what was expected. "What are you going to do without socks?" "Go barefoot," I replied and headed quickly to my room. I was bolder. I couldn't believe I stood up to Gene in the mall. It was no different than any other comment I had taken meekly in the past. This time, Teegan was there. The first time she had been watching me. I thought for sure he was going to punch me. Instead, he laughed, and we were somehow more equal. Teegan did that. I knew I hadn't mastered anything yet. I was no social expert. It was the main reason I left them when I did, before I could make some fatal error. For years, I have looked at Teegan from afar. Her perfection had befuddled me. Most people never saw it. The way she moved, the way she looked at people, the way her voice sang so differently than anyone else's. Everything about her was special. There was only one entity that knew my obsession. Such a bad word, obsession. I never stalked her. There is just something about her that clutters my thoughts. I only had one 'B' on a test this year. Only one, and I knew the cause. I had bumped into Teegan on the way out of class, and we traded a quick sorry. Silly as it was, all I could think of during the test was her arm touching mine. I set the alarm on my phone for three hours. I didn't want to send out the concert information too quickly. My desire must always be kept at a distance from Teegan. If she didn't feel the same, then I certainly didn't want her to be weirded out. My obsession had sanity. It would be two-way or no-way. A little fear began to creep over my thoughts. I was about to find out if it was two-way. If it was one-way, I was sure my heart would suffer irreparable damage. My diary was hidden well. My parents didn't even know it existed. I pulled the grate off the floor's central-air outflow. I reached in and pulled out my book of secrets. For the last three years, I had kept a journal of my life in the book, barely missing a day. A lot of it was mundane, but most concerned a girl of impeccable perfection. The book was the one entity that knew my secrets. I opened to the first blank page and wrote the date. I wasn't sure how to start. I turned back to previous days and looked at the entries. Teegan sightings mixed with other events of the day. I went back further, where I began to describe what I felt about her. The words were silly and accurate. I went to the first page and read the first entry: I saw her today. I don't have the courage to speak with her, so the outcome may not be as I wish. It's confusing. No other girl affects me this way. I can see the beauty in other girls, desire their contact, but Teegan Fuller is singularly special. She has a spell on me. Closing the book, I thought on what I'd written. All those years and only now had I spoken more than one word to her. It was time to find out the truth and stop my childish ways. My mother was a little surprised when I opened the flue to the fireplace. I wadded up some newspaper and stuffed it under the grate. "A little warm for a fire," Mom said. She had only ever seen the rational me. I knew she wouldn't stop me, but I could still hear the concern. "It's necessary," I said as I placed the diary on top of the grate. I pulled a match from the tinderbox and struck it. "What are you burning?" Mom asked, sitting up with surprise. "My diary," I replied. The flames quickly claimed the newspaper and the book began to burn. I sat on the rock ledge that stuck out of the front of the fireplace. The flames first turned a strange blue as the cover caught fire, then they went bright orange. "What's wrong?" My mother asked, moving toward me. The socks were only the tip of the iceberg. Now I was doing something else strange that confused her. "I'm in love," I told her. "This weekend, I find out if it's for real." I felt my mom's hand on my shoulder. "What if it isn't?" Mom asked. "Then I'm lost," I said, "and have to start over." Teegan "There he is," Gene announced in the hallway. He was looking at Caleb walking toward his locker. Caleb looked shocked at the acknowledgment. I wished I could have toned down Gene before he spoke, so Caleb didn't look so spooked. Gene bowed ridiculously in the middle of the hall, in front of half the school. "The maestro of fashion approaches," Gene announced loudly. Our little group turned toward Caleb and saw his face color. "Come on bro," Gene waved Caleb forward, "I've been telling these guys about your hidden talents. They think I'm nuts, but we'll find out who the stud is on prom night." Samantha laughed, and there were smiles all around. Hesitantly, Caleb came forward, his eyes mostly on mine so I steadied them with a smile. "You're still playing on Saturday?" I asked clearly. I wanted everyone to know that he was welcome and that it was more than just a tux selection. "Playing what?" Amanda asked. The discussion went into Caleb fielding questions about his Saturday night gig. Though he tried to downplay it, as far as we were concerned, playing professional meant rockstar. Suddenly, Caleb had the respect of my friends. I had no idea why it pleased me so much. There was something about him that just shouted friendship. I could see, without any link, his happiness at being included. I loved his sly humor, though I suspected half of it was unintentional. "No, I swear," Gene said, "we were lost, and this guy just grabbed me a 007 outfit that looked perfect. I mean, I looked all Daniel Craig, ready to save the world." Everyone broke into laughter, and it was directed fondly toward Caleb. I could swear he became taller as Gene spoke. I wondered if he had ever had someone friend him publicly. "Who are you taking to the prom?" Amanda asked Caleb. I knew Amanda just wanted to let everyone know that Trent Peterson had asked her and needed an excuse to bring it up. I wished I could take her question back for her. Caleb was having trouble coming up with a response. The redness in his face the way his eyes drifted to the ground. He wasn't ready for full frontal asshole questions that were spouted without thought. I was surprised when he raised his eyes and looked directly at Amanda. "I haven't asked anyone yet," Caleb said, "I have someone in mind, and, to be honest, I'm still working up the courage." His eyes were steady, almost daring her to comment. "Damn, man," Gene jumped in, "time is running short. Like anyone is going to say no to you." Gene moved over and put his arm around Caleb's shoulder. "If she crushes your heart, then she's not worth your trouble." Everyone laughed. The last drop of my jealousy of Samantha dissipated in Gene's charm. I could have kissed him for claiming Caleb as his de facto brother. "You should just ask," I said. I didn't want Caleb to end up without a date, like me. There was something about him, an intensity that I had never seen before. He didn't deserve to be alone. Everyone agreed, with some pointing out unique ways of popping the question. I could see that Caleb was getting overwhelmed. Lucky for him, the morning bell rang, and we had to get to our classes.
8 Nov 2017 | 06:25
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Hmm I thin Caleb and Teegan will be perfect for the prom
8 Nov 2017 | 07:27
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Awww... be a man caleb. ask her out na this is getting interesting
8 Nov 2017 | 14:34
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Caleb just ask her out quickly
10 Nov 2017 | 01:44
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Episode 4- Teegan "102?" Gene exclaimed as Caleb entered the lunchroom. I watched Caleb's face fill with color as he pretended it wasn't directed to him. "How in hell does anyone get a 102 on one of Prichard's tests?" "Shh," I said, trying to quiet Gene down. He never was one for keeping his opinions to himself. "Mr. Haverston!" Mr. Sampson called from the corner of the room. "Language!" Mr. Sampson was an assistant principal and the self-ordained lunchroom monitor. No one liked him much, but when he spoke, everyone listened. Gene rolled his eyes and waved Caleb over. I made room for Caleb by sliding my chair over. He sat down next to me. "I got partial credit on the bonus problem," Caleb said. "Sorry," he added, ashamed of screwing up the curve. "You're now officially the smartest person I know," Gene said. "I wish I had half your brains." "I just study a lot," Caleb said. "I studied my ass off and only got a 71," Gene said, shaking his head. "You understand this crap better than I do." "Maybe, because he doesn't think it's crap," I said. Caleb and I shared a quick smile. "Well, Ms. 86," Gene countered, "not all of us love math." Samantha joined us with a tray containing a piece of pepperoni pizza and a carton of milk. "Hi Gene, Teegan," Samantha said, then looked at Caleb, "Einstein." "Leave him be," I chuckled, "he's not going to blow a test just to up our grades." "I wouldn't," Gene said. "I'd ride my brain right over the top of all of you." Samantha laughed. I think Gene thought she was laughing at him by his expression. "I'm not trying to win or anything," Caleb said. "The problems just click, like music. I just know what needs to come next. I like the flow of it." Caleb pulled out a sandwich and soda from his backpack. "So, teach me," Gene said, biting into his sandwich. Caleb looked up in surprise. Gene's eyebrows raised as if he had asked a question that required an answer. "What?" Caleb floundered. Gene smiled as he finished chewing. "I'm barely holding a C in Prichard's class," Gene said, "not exactly scholarship material. Basketball will only get me so far. I could use some help on the next test." "I don't know if I could teach it," Caleb admitted. "I suck," Gene laughed, "you got nothing to lose." "Study group?" Samantha suggested, looking at me. I nodded, and that strange smile appeared on Caleb's face. I could have sworn it was for me, the way his eyes drifted toward mine. There was an honesty to the smile, but it lacked confidence. That's what made it look so odd. "Sure," Caleb answered Samantha. There was no hesitancy in his answer, only in his eyes. I had a strange desire to push his unruly hair behind his ear. He needed it cut, maybe, shaped a bit to strengthen his features. I blinked and looked away, wondering why I was so worried about his appearance. "Cool," Gene nodded before taking another bite of his sandwich. We decided to meet on Tuesday nights at Gene's house. Prichard always had a quiz on Wednesday, so it seemed a good test for the study group. Both Caleb and Gene had a long walk to gym next period, so they took off and left Samantha and me alone for a few minutes. "Be careful," Samantha said, "he likes you." "Who?" "Einstein," Samantha replied, jerking her eyes to the back of Gene and Caleb leaving. "As a friend, maybe," I laughed. "We've barely spoken in all the years we've been at school. If it wasn't for the mall, I doubt we'd even know each other existed." "Oh, he knows you exist," Samantha said, with a smile. "Aren't you seeing him on Saturday?" "Look, he's going to be on stage," I defended myself, "I'm going to be a friendly face. Just support. Besides, I listened to some of the Smooth Gliders stuff on YouTube. They're pretty good, and I don't turn down free concerts." "I think you have a math geek date," Samantha laughed. "God!" I said standing, "you'd think I'd get a little support from a friend." My anger flared for no good reason. I knew Samantha was joking, but I let it feel more like an insult. Would it be so bad if it was a date? I didn't even know if I thought it was an insult to Caleb or me. "Sorry," Samantha said, all her humor gone. "I was just playing." She came around the table and gave me a hug. My anger dissipated. "No public displays!" Mr. Sampson shouted. "Yeah," Samantha said as she rolled her eyes, "like we're going all lesbo in the lunchroom." We broke the embrace in the midst of chuckles from the few surrounding students who heard Samantha. "My office, Ms. Bennett," Mr. Sampson said, pointing the way. He had heard it as well. I gave Samantha a sympathetic look as she followed Mr. Sampson. I knew she was in for a dry lecture on politically incorrect language and insubordination. Nothing would come of it, but boredom. Mr. Sampson is all bark. . . . . "You're driving to Bangor by yourself? On a Saturday night?" Mom asked. I could hear the disapproval in her voice. "I'm 18," I countered. I didn't expect blowback on my decision to go. "I know." Mom smiled. "It doesn't mean you can risk your life and my heart." I gave her a stern look. "I'd feel a lot better if someone went with you. And who is this Caleb McGuire?" "Just a friend," I said, trying not to get angry. She didn't trust my judgment. "You must like him to travel all that way," Mom pointed out. "He's a friend," I insisted, "I'm just there for support." It came out sharper than I expected. I took a breath, "You don't trust me." "It's not a question of trust," Mom said. "More a question of experience. There's a lot of drunks on the road on Saturday nights. Not to mention the alcohol that will likely be there." "You know I don't drink," I almost yelled. Some of my anger leaked, and I knew she felt it. I received surprised regret back. "I'm thinking, Teegan," Mom almost growled, "I haven't said no." I bit down and blocked out everyone. I hated when bad feelings flowed with my words. She sighed. "Now you're even angrier." "I promised him I'd be there," I said. "How am I supposed to tell him I can't go now." "I didn't say you couldn't," Mom said strongly. "You're leaning that way. I can hear it in your voice." "I'm thinking about it," Mom said. "You're not helping your case." "You're just pissed because I cut off Dad," I spat. "Yes," Mom admitted, "Is that my penalty for being a mother?" "For being an oppressive mother," I said and turned away. I had no idea why she would even consider saying no. I thought I was only letting her know where I was going to be. Maybe I should keep future destinations private. I left her there in the kitchen and went to my room. For emphasis, I slammed the door. Hadn't I just driven Zane to the mall. There should be more give for all that my family takes. I sat heavily on the bed and texted Samantha. It's hard to put anger into a text. Summing it up in a concise statement is a difficult task. Mom is being a jerk about Saturday >:( -You're surprised Doesn't trust me -Mine won't cut the cord either What do I tell Caleb -She said no She will - I can tell -He'll understand No he won't - I promised -Sorry Samantha was wrong. Caleb will take it personally. A new friend ditches him at his first request. I wondered if he would even believe me. I knew my mom's tone and figured she had already decided no and was looking for a way to make it sound reasonable. I hate when parents decide, then come up with the reason why. I pumped some music into my ear buds and closed my eyes. I had to think of a way to make it up to Caleb, so he didn't think I was some jerk. Mom didn't say no yet, so there was still a small chance, infinitesimal as it was. Maybe, I could just go anyway. It's not like I wasn't old enough to make my own decisions. I drifted off to sleep no wiser about my dilemma. A knock on the door broke through the music. I sat up and heard my name when I removed the earbuds. It was Dad. "Your home," I said stupidly when I opened the door. He wasn't supposed to be home until tomorrow. His job often had him traveling to different construction sites. "Teegan," Dad said without my normal hello smile, "why is your mom is crying?" The disapproval in his eyes hurt more than anything I could have imagined. I wanted her as angry as I was, not crying. "She...I," I fumbled, "we kind of had an argument." I took a step back into my room and looked at the floor. Dad followed me in and pulled me into his arms. "I missed you," Dad whispered. I hugged him back, happy we weren't arguing as well. "Go make up with your mother," he added, releasing me. "But she doesn't trust me," I said, trying to sound sane. "I trust you," Dad said, "I trust that you will apologize for using your bond as a weapon." "I blocked," I said. "It's my mind, and I can do what I want with it." "Yes," Dad said, "but doing it rudely against your mother is cruel." "You're taking her side," I said. "Always," Dad said as he turned to leave, "only because she's always on your side." I felt five years old again. Now I was angry at myself and Mom. I watched Dad leave. He was more right than I wanted. He always yelled so quietly. Sometimes, I would prefer irrationality so I could vent. I thought about staying in my room and making Mom come to me. Maybe, she wouldn't come until tomorrow morning, and all my anger would be wasted. If I go to Mom now, I concede defeat. If I don't go, I prove that I am a child. Dad makes every argument twice as hard. I sighed. The argument was over the moment he came home. I opened my mind and let my family in. Dad flooded me with love, further weakening my resolve. I could almost feel him smile, though it was a proud one, not a victory lap. It was so hard to be angry when we shared. Mom's love was close behind. It was wrapped in a cloak of forgiveness that defused the rest of my anger. I returned my love with the inevitable apology. My mother's apology surprised me. I found them both in the family room. Dad was lounged on the couch with Mom curled into him. "I'm sorry." I said it weakly, trying to mean it, but not loudly. "So am I," Mom said clearly. Her smile coaxed out mine. "Now, what's this Saturday thing?" Dad asked. Calmly, I explained about Caleb and my promise to see him play. I dropped my eyes and stated why I thought I was more than old enough to go alone to Bangor on Saturday night. For some reason, it was hard to look at Mom while I made my case. "It scares me, Sam," Mom said. I looked up and saw the apprehension in her eyes. I couldn't help the love that leaked from me, nor block the same from her. It was fear, not mistrust that made her second guess my going. "She'll be all alone if anything happens." "I agree," Dad said, "women shouldn't travel alone at night in the city. Especially to a concert venue." I felt my heart drop. He meant to stop me too. "You travel alone all the time," I said meekly, motioning to Mom. It was a lousy argument, and I knew it. I was running out of debate material. Anger was no longer an option. "Sweetie, I would never go to a bar or concert alone," Mom smiled warmly, "your Dad takes me." "Sounds like you need someone to go with you," Dad said. "I'm not sure I can get another ticket," I said. "Call him," Dad continued, "if he can't get another, maybe your mom and I can drive you, and we'll find a place close by to grab some dinner." Mom squeezed him and smiled. I could feel the relief in her. I'm sure the embarrassment of my parents driving leaked right back at them. It didn't seem to bother either of them. "I'm going to grow up someday," I added, trying one last attempt. "Not this weekend, Stinky," Dad chuckled. Mom slapped his shoulder for being so crude. Her smile was too soft to make the chastisement meaningful. I rolled my eyes and pulled out my phone. I prayed I could get another ticket, maybe talk Samantha into going. "The show's sold out, but you can ride with me," Caleb offered excitedly. I paused trying to figure out an answer. The night was becoming more and more like a date, and I wasn't sure Caleb understood it wasn't. He sounded too enthusiastic. "You'll get there a few hours early and have to put up with a few practice sessions, but it should be fun," he added when I didn't respond. "Caleb says I can go with him," I told my parents, hoping they would know how to answer. Caleb overheard the question and waited patiently. "I'd like to meet him," Mom said, obviously hedging her bet. "Have him come by for lunch before you two leave." My mind went blank. Not the answer I was looking for, but I was committed. "Did you hear that?" I asked into the phone. I should have made the call privately and given myself more leeway. "Ah...yeah," Caleb replied. I was so relieved to hear his awkward response. He may not want this to be date-like either. "So?" "Ah...sure," Caleb agreed hesitantly. "We'd have to leave around two, though." I relayed his reply, and my mother did the unthinkable. "Good," Mom said, "have him come by around noon. We can all have a leisurely lunch." I stopped breathing thinking of a two-hour lunch with Caleb and my parents. I was too old for this type of oversight. What was going to be an evening of friendly support had turned into a small nightmare. We're all going to be staring at each other in silence for two painful hours. "Ah...noon?" I asked, hoping he'd reconsider. "Okay," Caleb responded after a brief pause. I was sure he was sweating it as I was. It was a small consolation knowing we both expected to be miserable. I could only hope the concert was good enough to make up for the cost. "Alright," I committed, "I'll see you on Saturday, Caleb." "See you Saturday, Teegan," Caleb said with what sounded like fear. I disconnected, and my father's smile grew to something bordering on victorious. "Happy?" I asked. "Yes," Dad replied, "I like meeting the men who are taking my daughter out." "It's not a date!" I said much louder than necessary. Mom smiled at my reaction. "Aggh," I added as I turned and left them to have a chuckle at my expense. I would have blocked them both, but Dad was swamping me with love and security. A damn drug I wasn't sure I wanted to live without.
11 Nov 2017 | 09:45
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Sorry dear They are just looking out for you
12 Nov 2017 | 02:11
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Hmm I think it might be a date
12 Nov 2017 | 11:32
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Next plz
12 Nov 2017 | 11:33
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Episode 5- Sam "Good morning, Cindy," I said, surprising our receptionist. Chadwick construction was a fairly large firm but had a small office staff. Most of the workers were in the field. I swam in both pools. "Sam!" Cindy said with a pleasant smile, "We weren't expecting you until tomorrow." "Unfortunately, we ran into some problems," I said seriously, then smiled back. "Fortunately, it allowed me to surprise Natalie last night." "Having a happy wife has to be better than a happy boss," Cindy joked. I noticed she changed her hair again. About twice a year she did something dramatic to it. This time, it was cut short, almost boyish, and dyed a deep brown. It made her look a little athletic although I knew strenuous activity wasn't on her agenda. "Why will I be unhappy?" Jerry asked, walking in behind me. He leaned over the receptionist counter. "You can always get a new wife; bosses sign the paycheck." He was in his gray suit, the one he wore when he wanted to impress someone. That someone was never me. "I had to delay the Pinckney project," I replied, "probably another three months." Jerry waved me into his office with a grunt. "Nice hair," I complimented Cindy quietly, though I liked the last style better. The lie was worth her smile. I followed Jerry. Jerry signaled for me to sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk as he went to the credenza to start the coffee pot. There was always a fresh pitcher of water next to the coffee maker. I suspected it was Cindy's duty. Probably why she'll have the job forever. "Why am I eating $150,000?" Jerry asked. He didn't look at me as he continued prepping the pot with filter and coffee. Delays in a project of Pinckney's size were about $50,000 a month. It was planned for, so most of Jerry's words were bluster. "Carbon content was too high," I sighed. "I had to reject the steel." I am the materials expert for Chadwick construction. It took five years to get the engineering degree and to this day, I am still surprised that anyone trusts me to handle the task. I had Teegan to thank. The events that she unknowingly triggered as a baby steered me into the life I know today. "The building had better have fallen, or I'll have your ass," Jerry said as he poured the water. "It wouldn't have handled the lateral stresses we planned for," I clarified. "Earthquake or high winds would have weakened it greatly. I refused to sign off though Alloy Partners was pushing hard." "Screw them," Jerry said as he moved to his desk. "I want you at the mill when the new bars come off the line. Let's test them there so that we can shorten any further delay." "I just got back home, Jerry," I complained. "Yeah, I know. Happy wife and all," Jerry said as he shifted some papers around on his desk. "How is the family?" "Fine," I said, then sensed a trap, "but they won't be if I'm always on the road." Jerry laughed. I guess he was going to use my 'fine' against me. "How about you do a quick back and forth early next week? One night?" Jerry asked with eyebrows raised. "I could do one night," I replied. "Good, I don't trust Alloy Partners as far as I can throw them," Jerry continued. "You look over the New York project?" "Briefly," I answered, "I'll take a better look this morning. What I did see looks good. No glaring red flags." "I'll want you at the kickoff meeting on the tenth," Jerry ordered. "No problem." "Sanders is taking the lead, and I don't want another screw up like last time," Jerry said, making a fist and knocking on the desk. "Let him know that he can call you if he runs into a problem, okay?" "Sure." We spent a few moments talking about Cindy's new hairstyle. Jerry wanted to bet that the next one would be a mohawk. He had a way of thinking all of his employees were younger brothers and sisters. Sometimes his comments bordered on rude, but when is anyone ever nice to a younger sibling. He never meant anything by it. We parted company so that Jerry could prepare for a meeting with prospective clients. They were the reason for the gray suit. I moved to my office, about half the size of Jerry's. That I had an office at all was a small miracle. I smiled when I remembered Rose, Natalie's mother. She had always seen me sitting in an office like this and had faith I would achieve it. A giant leap from hauling pot for a meager living. I moved Natalie's picture from the middle of the desk to the corner. I always, before leaving my office, move her picture to the center to remind me of why I work. Even today that woman earns more than me, but I am no longer a slouch. It's petty of me to think I still need to earn her love, but it's there, and I have long admitted it to myself. I smiled at her image, remembering how sexy she was last night. Absence does make the heart grow fonder. It also spices up the bedroom and proves we are still young at heart. I pulled my phone from my pocket and found Hank's number. The government was a small nuisance, but this time, they might be helpful. I felt a little guilt when I hit connect. It didn't feel wholly right to spy on Teagan even if it was in my power, but a father should always use what's at his disposal to protect his children. "Morning, Hank," I said when he answered. "Morning, Sam. Something up?" "Well, nothing earth shattering. Teegan's got a date," I chuckled. "She's dated before," Hank said, "nothing strange for her age. In fact, I would say she's a little behind the curve. Something, I find more than surprising." I let my anger at the thought that Teegan was less than average on the desirability chart pass. It wasn't what Hank intended when he spoke. "This time, she's lying to herself," I said. "She's adamant it's not a date, yet she fought with Natalie about not being able to go. Cut us all off when she didn't get her way." "She's done that before," Hank pointed out. "She did it in anger this time," I clarified, "to punish Natalie, I believe." "Did it work?" Hank asked. "Not in the way she expected," I replied, "I had to play peacemaker, and she relented, but we gave a little as well." "She is 18," Hank said. "Can't expect her not to have a mind of her own. I'm just surprised she hasn't used her power more." "It's not as strong as it was," I explained. "It never was as powerful for her as it was for me. Then again, we haven't needed it. That time she broke her arm, what was it, six years ago, that was the last time I ever accessed her bond like before." I had to chuckle, "Damn thing hurt like hell, and she was sitting under the tree crying for me. Now it's nothing but shared feelings, though they are kind of nice." "You know I'm coming out there in a couple of weeks," Hank said, "Is there another reason for the call?" "I'd like the military to look into this non-date of hers," I said. "If I'm right, and she has feelings for him, they should be as interested as I am." Hank laughed. "You want the US Government to check up on your daughter's date?" "We've been good," I said, trying to keep the humor out of my voice. "They can work for us for once." "You do know their interest has waned," Hanks said, once his breathing had returned. He found the situation especially humorous. "I'll see what I can do, but be warned, they're beginning to think she's harmless and not the weapon they expected." "She is harmless," I said, "we both know that. She hasn't bonded with anyone new in years. If her life continues at its current pace, I doubt she ever will again." "We'll just keep that to ourselves right now," Hank said, "There are still crazies out there, and the military has been invaluable at keeping your family hidden. It may just be that there's been no need for her abilities. I've always suspected it's more of a survival response." "I think she's just getting older," I said, "and her brain is no longer free to galavant where it will. It's been cluttered with experiences." "Maybe," Hank conditionally agreed. I could tell he wasn't telling me everything. He never did, and we kept some things from him as well. I suspect the military was even more in the dark. "What is this guy's name?" "Caleb McGuire," I replied, "from here in town. I never met him before. Some new friend outside of her normal acquaintances." "It's a total misuse of government assets," Hank laughed, "but I'll see what I can do." "I just want to make sure he's not an ax murderer or something," I said. "Just make sure Teegan never finds out," Hank said. "It won't go well for you if she discovers the breach of trust." "Well, I'd rather have her hate me than date a crook," I said. "What if Rose had felt that way?" Hank said as he stifled a laugh. "I thought you were on my side." "I'm on Teegan's side," Hank chuckled, "then Natalie's and Zane's. You're fourth or so down the list." "Okay, then do it for Teegan," I said. "Of course," Hank replied with additional humor. "By the way, I got one of those mini-drones for Zane. I hope Natalie won't think it's too much." "Hell, I don't care if she does," I said excitedly. "I was eyeing one of those at the mall last Christmas. We'll have a lot of fun with it. I'm sure Zane will find all sorts of ways to cause trouble." I had been trying to think of a way to push one of them through Natalie's wall of no-more-frivolous-things in the house. "Good," Hank said, "I've always wanted to give one a go. Zane's a good excuse." Hank had the same problem as I did. Women were too practical sometimes. "I'll call you if I find out anything about Caleb." "Thanks," I added before we ended the call. I knew it was risky not to accept Teegan's judgment, but I was a father. We use all the tools we have to secure the welfare of their children. At least, I hoped I wasn't an aberration.
16 Nov 2017 | 07:08
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Sam u are being over protective I think Teegan is right in this one
16 Nov 2017 | 08:55
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Continue pls
16 Nov 2017 | 08:56
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If Teegan finds out There is a problem
16 Nov 2017 | 18:52
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The link would be back next week I'm sorry for the setback of the story a certain issue came up that took me out for a while
9 Feb 2018 | 07:18
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