Hannah’s Story….

Hannah almost groaned out loud as she looked down at the writing prompt. Was the teacher serious? “If you were an alarm clock, what would you do sixty, thirty and ten seconds before the alarm was scheduled to go off?”

Hannah groaned. Couldn’t she do some math? Even an additional science project? Anything to get out of writing! Writing was possibly the worst part of school.

And what in the world is an alarm clock supposed to do? It sits on the bedside table and rings when programmed to ring. How ridiculous!

She wanted to shove her paper off her desk and storm out of the classroom. Instead, she bowed her head, picked up her pencil and started writing. She had no idea what the other people in her class were writing but she thought through the springs and locks that might be inside the clock, trying to give a mechanical perspective of the inside of an alarm clock.

When the bell rang, she was so relieved that she almost melted onto the floor. But that action might delay her escape from her English classroom, so she grabbed her book bag and almost skipped to the front of the class. She slapped the paper down on the teacher’s desk and headed out of the room. Lunchtime!

The cafeteria was just starting to fill up when she walked inside, squinching up her nose at the horrible smell. She dumped her books on the table, then rushed over to the lunch lines, grabbing a slice of pizza because that was really all that was edible from the school cafeteria. By the time she was back at the table, her friends had shown up and were huddled around, eating their white bread sandwiches and chatting about the writing test. “What did you write?” Laura asked as Hannah sat down across from her.

“First of all, that is the best color on you!” Hannah said to Ella who was wearing a pretty yellow sweater that made her skin look creamy and beautiful. “Secondly,” Hannah rolled her eyes, “that had to be the stupidest writing assignment ever!” she sighed. “I mean, what in the world does the teacher THINK happens before the alarm clock goes off? The tiny parts inside the appliance click and buzz and the thing goes off. End of story!” And she took a bite of her pizza.

Ella preened from the compliment but joined in the discussion. “I wrote that the clock sits on the bedside table, staring down at the person sleeping. Sixty seconds before the person needs to wake up, the clock giggles, finds a piece of hair and tickles the sleeper’s ear. Thirty seconds before the time, the clock walks over to the edge of the pillow and starts making weird sounds, trying to wake the person up. I explained that the alarm clock doesn’t like surprising people by going off too suddenly, so it tries to start the process earlier.”

Six people stared at Ella after that explanation, all of them in awe of the woman’s creativity. “What?” she asked, suddenly shy because so many people were staring at her.

Hannah was the first to react and an enormous grin started on her face. “That’s brilliant!” she replied. “Absolutely brilliant! I wish I’d come up with that idea!”

Ella smiled brightly, astonished that she’d done something to earn her that kind of accolade. “Really?”

Hannah nodded, her brown curls bouncing around her chin. “I love it. If I’d known the teacher was asking for something creative like that….” She shook her head. “No, I couldn’t have written anything like that. Ever.”

Laura scoffed. “Sure you could. Just think up the most ridiculous idea and run with it.”

Hannah laughed. “I’ll leave the fun stuff to you guys. I’ll stick with the more mundane math and science. That stuff makes sense to me.”

Sam’s Story….

“Come on!” Jason whispered, trying to hurry through the back yard as quietly as possible.

Sam leapt up, easily vaulting over the fence then found a hiding place in the bushes. The two boys stared upwards through the old oak tree. When the light came on in the corner bedroom, both boys smiled even while they continued to stare upwards. “She’s there!” Sam said with hope and awe.

“She’s mine!” Jason asserted.

Sam tore his eyes away from the window, glancing at his friend. “What do you mean? I told you last week that she’d smiled at me.”

Jason scoffed. “She doesn’t like big brutes like you.” He smoothed down the neatly pressed shirt he’d donned earlier in the evening, just in case Lisa came out of her room. “She likes guys like me that can look her in the eye.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Lisa is taller than you are. She likes me.”

Next thing Sam knew, he was flat on his back, looking up at Jason who was towering over him. “Why did you hit me?” Sam demanded, not sure what was going on.

“Lisa is mine!” he snapped back. “Just back off!”

Sam laughed at his friend a moment before he sprung back onto his feet. “Yeah?” he asked, bending down to get into Jason’s face. “Prove it!”

Jason once again took a swing but this time Sam was prepared. He stepped out of the smaller guy’s space, then came right back, barreling his head into Jason’s stomach. The two grunted and groaned, each getting a few hits in but mostly just getting dirty.

“What are you two boys doing out here?” a deep, furious voice called out from the back porch.

A moment later, Sam was yanked up by his collar and pulled away from Jason. Sam looked around only to find Jason in almost the exact same position. Both boys glared at each other, furious that their fight had been stopped before one of them came out the victor.

The man stood looking down at the two boys, both with bloody noses. “Sam Jeffers? Are you fighting again?” He looked over at the other boy and shook his head. “And Jason Connely,” the man said with disgust. “How are you going to explain the mud all over your shirt to your mom? She probably just ironed that, didn’t she?”

Jason looked down at his shirt, suddenly more worried about his mother’s reaction than Sam’s betrayal.

The man shook Jason’s collar then released him. “Go home. And make sure you tell your momma what just happened here tonight.”

Sam tried to head out as well but Mr. Norman, Lisa’s father, held onto him. “Not you, son. This is the third time I’ve caught you fighting.” He pulled Sam into the house, plunking the boy down onto a kitchen chair. “What’s gotten into you lately?” he demanded as he grabbed a washcloth and rinsed it with cold water, handing it to Sam. “Clean the blood off of your nose, son!”

Sam took the washcloth, still angry about Jason trying to steal Lisa for himself. But he tenderly wiped the blood he could now feel was dribbling down his upper lip. “Sorry, sir,” he said with forced politeness. “We were just messing around.”

Mr. Norman leaned back against the kitchen sink. “That’s what you said about the fight over at the diner between you and Ricky.”

Sam grinned, remembering that fight with pleasure. “Yeah. We were just messing around that time too.”

“And what about the fight with Joe over behind the school?”

Sam laughed and shook his head, careful not to get blood on Mr. Norman’s kitchen floor. “No, that was a real fight. Joe was picking on Jason.”

Mr. Norman huffed. “Jason, the boy you were just out in my back yard fighting with?”

Sam grinned again. “Yeah. One and the same.”

Mr. Norman shook his head. “You’ve got to control this proclivity you have for fighting, boy! It isn’t going to get you anywhere.”

Sam almost laughed. He liked fighting, he thought silently. It was a great way to get the tensions out. A good fight cleared the air, let everyone express their anger and then it was over. The anger gone. Most times, Sam rarely remembered what they were fighting for.

A blond head peeked around the corner and Sam’s heart rate picked up. Oh yeah, he thought with a growing grin. He remembered what he and Jason had been fighting about. Lisa! She was the prettiest girl in school this week and Sam wanted to kiss her. He’d almost done it earlier today, but recess had ended. He’d thought to have a chance when he’d walked her home from school, teasing her about being the best in math class, but then Jason had shown up and walked on the other side of Lisa. Hence the reason the two of them were here at night, trying to see Lisa on the sly. Lisa had to make a choice. Who knew who would be considered the prettiest in class next week? She had to live it up while it lasted.

“Are you listening to me?” Mr. Norman demanded.

Sam jerked upright and focused on Lisa’s father, determined not to let him know that his daughter was standing outside the kitchen doorway. “Yes sir,” he replied, then turned back to Lisa, smiling and telling her with his eyes that he would see her outside once this was over.

“You know I’m a police officer, right?”

Huh? What? Sam jerked back, looking up at the stern man. “You are?” he asked, his voice squeaking as fear took over his normally cocky nature. Sam had had no idea the love of his life, or the love of his week, had a cop for a father. He really needed to do more research on these “loves”.

Mr. Norman nodded his head. “I am. And you’ve fought your last fight, kiddo.”

Sam didn’t understand why that should be a penalty. Everyone loved a good fight. “Why?”

Mr. Norman slapped his hand on his forehead. “Because there are better ways to deal with your emotions!” he almost yelled.

Emotions? Why would he…Mr. Norman wasn’t making any sense. “I don’t understand, sir.”

The man in front of him nodded his head. “Well, at least you have manners. That’s a start. But tomorrow, you’re reporting to me right after school. I want you on my front stoop, front and center, ready to do whatever I tell you. Understand?”

Sam nodded his head even though he didn’t understand.

“And you’re going to follow orders. Got it?”

Again, Sam nodded.

Mr. Norman assessed the young boy carefully. Sam was big for his age and Mr. Norman suspected that the kid had a heart of gold. Not that he wanted his daughter near him, but there was something about him, something that Mr. Norman could understand. “Good. Now you’re to head home, make sure all of your homework is done,” he paused to give Sam the I-will-be-checking-on-you look.

Sam swallowed, his twelve year old mind whirling with the details of what this man might be demanding of him. He pictured himself shoveling dog poop and picking up trash. It wasn’t a good image.

“Yes sir. I’ll be here tomorrow after school, sir.”

Mr. Norman looked down at the boy and nodded. “Fine. I want to see your report card too.”

Sam cringed. His report card wasn’t too good. He didn’t like being cramped into a classroom, preferring sports and playing with his friends to reading books. This might have been the worst escapade he’d ever ventured into.

“Yes, sir.”

With that, Sam raced out the door, eager to be home before his mother came back from choir practice. He had no idea if he should tell his parents about tonight’s adventure, but in the end, he decided against it, not wanting to admit that he’d snuck out after dark or, even worse, had been caught by a police officer.

The following day, Sam ran home from school, dumped his books on the counter and raced out the door again. His mom and dad were still at work. Only his older sisters were at home, and he ignored them.

He sprinted down the street, ready to show up on time for Mr. Norman, still not sure what to expect.

“Come on, son,” Mr. Norman said when Sam arrived. “Did you tell your parents you were coming here?”

Sam shook his head, still trying to catch his breath from his run.

Mr. Norman shook his head and pulled out a cell phone. “Call your parents. Tell them you’ll be here doing chores. And be sure to tell them why and that they can come by to meet me anytime if they need reassurance. You’ll be outdoors the whole time.”

Sam gulped but did as he was told. He hated doing chores around his own home. But he didn’t want to mess with this guy. So for the next four hours, he worked at raking leaves, mowing the grass, pulling up weeds and painting the fence in the backyard. He was hot and sweaty by the time he finished, but he also felt pretty good. Mr. Norman’s yard looked pretty good too. And best of all, Lisa came out and gave him a glass of lemonade, sitting next to him and talking with him while he drank down the cool, tart liquid.

“Be back here tomorrow,” Mr. Norman said, walking through the house into the kitchen.

Lisa looked at Sam and smiled and Sam though that the whole day was worthwhile.

By the end of the school year, Sam was riding around with Mr. Norman in his squad car, his friends jealous of all that he was learning. Mr. Norman even took him to the precinct gym, where Sam got to work out with the other officers. He learned how to fight, when to fight and, most importantly, what happens when guys fight too often. Mr. Norman tried to shield Sam from most of the sights in the police station, but there was one day when a woman walked in, her face beaten, her lip bloody, and she had bruises all over her body. She wasn’t crying. She just sat in the chair while a police officer talked to her.

Sam had no idea what had happened to her, but that moment was life changing. He knew that he was known for throwing the first punch in a fight, but seeing that woman so beaten up, it changed the way he thought about fighting. It changed the way he thought about his life.

Read more about Intimate Desires, book one in The Love and Danger Series.