Chapter 1

"They're moving, Tommy!"

Kevin sat on the couch looking like somebody had just punched him in the gut.

"They? Are you talking about Gail?"

All I got was a dejected nod.

According to the big brother's owner's manual I should now offer my younger sibling the benefit of my vast experience on how to handle losing a girl. The problem was my experience bucket on that particular subject was empty. Beth was my first real girlfriend and when I tried to imagine losing her, my mind immediately skittered away from the subject—I didn't even want to THINK of life without my lady, and that gave me little insight into what Kevin was going through. I suppose I could tell him he was too young to know what love was, but all I had to do was look at him to know platitudes weren't going to help. Besides I hope I never become that big a hypocrite.

I took a deep breath, "Kev, I wish I knew what to say, but I can't think of anything that'll help. Where are they moving to?" I hoped it was somewhere within driving distance. I mean, my brother could be a pest, but if I could drive him to see her once in a while...

"Tommy, they're moving to California! I-I'll never see her again!" He just sort of collapsed in on himself, holding his sides as he rocked back and forth on the couch.

What could I say?

"When are they leaving?"

"Today!" he wailed. "Her folks didn't even tell her about it until they'd sold the house and everything. The moving van is there now! Oh, god, I'll never see her again!" He climbed off the couch and stumbled toward his room. Damn, I wish I could think of something that would help.

Just then there was a knock on the front door and Beth walked in, "Hi, Tommy, what's up? Let's do something on our last day before...

"Tommy, what's wrong?"

I told her what Kevin had said.

"Oh, no. Poor guy. What did you say to him? I hope you didn't tell him first loves never work out!"

"No, I didn't say that, because I won't, I can't, believe that's true." I looked at Beth.

It took a couple of seconds before she realized what she'd suggested, "Oh, Tommy, no, not us!"

I took Beth in my arms, "Not if I have anything to say about it. Now what can I say or do to help my brother?"

Beth just shook her head.

So much for the last night of vacation.

Monday morning dawned promising a beautiful day—and we were going to be stuck in school. Life just isn't fair sometimes.

I picked up Beth and aimed my beater toward what was to be our prison for the next six hours. "You ready for this?" I asked my lady.

"Tommy, why do you always do this? You know you like school. Why sound like you'd rather be getting a root canal without anesthetic?"

"It's not school, just the transition FROM vacation TO school that sucks." By the time we got there the parking lot was full of kids looking about as enthusiastic as we did. Greg and Cindy were already there and were walking over to meet us as we exited my Slobovian limo.

"Hey, guys!" Greg was trying to sound excited to be here, but it wasn't working. "You ready for some more of those educational opportunities they're always talking about?"

"Oh, yeah, just thrilled," I responded. Beth just looked at Cindy and grinned.

We joined the parade of the depressed marching toward the building.

"Well, hello, Bethany, still slumming, I see."

Oh, great, the year was off to a stellar beginning, five feet inside the building and already the hassles had started. We turned around to find Jason Williamson—the III, no less—sneering at me. He was one of those self-proclaimed members of the Elite, the kind who acted like his father's money—inherited, of course—entitled him to look with disdain on the rest of humanity.

"Oh, Jason," Beth gushed, "How I've missed you this summer! I've had an absolutely boring time without your stimulating presence!" The sarcasm just dripped from every word, but III didn't seem to catch it.

"Well, Bethany, now that we are back in school, I'll be more than pleased to allow you to accompany me."

Allow Beth to do anything? Allow? I glanced at Greg and Cindy. Cindy had a look like she was just waiting for the explosion. Greg glanced at me and mimed putting his fingers in his ears.

I looked back at my lady just in time to see her pull Jason toward her by the shoulders and whisper in his ear. He slowly went pale and tried to pull away but Beth had a tight grip that seemed to be getting tighter. As her knuckles turned white, so did his face. Finally she released him, turned back to me, grabbed the sides of my head and tried to devour my face, leaving JWIII rubbing his arms trying to get his circulation—and his dignity—back before he stumbled off.

"Wow!" Greg whispered. "Remind me to NEVER get her pissed at me!"

"What did you say to him?" I wanted to know.

"Who, little old me? I just made a comment about his parents' wedding date."

Cindy started giggling as Greg and I looked at each other. What would the date of his parents' marriage have anything to do with it? Then it connected.

"How long?" I asked.

"Only about four months," Beth replied.

"Hmm, doesn't it usually take nine?" I grinned.

"Well," Cindy chuckled, "maybe when you're rich..." That broke us all up. Maybe today would turn out okay after all.

Greg and Cindy headed for their lockers as Beth and I turned off to find ours. My lady managed to get us assigned to adjacent lockers somehow. I didn't know how and I wasn't going to ask.

After we dropped our stuff, we started down the hall toward our homerooms. As we got to Beth's, she pulled me out of traffic for a quick kiss.

"Mr. Randahl, did you not learn your lesson last year?"

I knew that voice and I didn't like it. "Hello, Mr. Adams. Did I do something wrong?" I knew the answer, but maybe...

"We've talked before about groping young ladies. Haven't we Mr. Randahl?'

"But, Mr. Adams," Beth interrupted, "Tommy wasn't groping me!"

"Miss Jones, are you trying to tell me I don't know groping when I see it? Perhaps it's time we get your parents involved, both of you, to the office!"

Beautiful, haven't been to a single class and already I'm on Adams' shit-list. Great way to start your senior year, Tommy.

And so we sat in the office until our respective parental units could rescue us. Beth's folks got there first. "Well, dear daughter, what mischief have you gotten into this time? And, Tommy, are you leading our daughter astray?" Beth's dad was grinning as he looked at me.

"No, sir ... At least not this time, Beth was leading," I grinned back.

Adams came out of his office, "Are you Miss Jones' parents?" When they nodded, he motioned them into his office. "And you two, go back to class," he said as he closed the door.

My mom walked in about then and looked at me, shaking her head. "I thought I told you not to get caught again."

"I know. Neither of us saw Adams. I swear he just materializes at the wrong time."

Mom motioned toward the closed door. "Is someone in his office now?"

"Yeah, Beth's folks just went in."

"And what do they think of all the fuss?"

"Well," Beth answered, "Dad was grinning before they went in, so I don't think they think this is much of a problem. Um, how about you?"

"Tommy," she looked at me. "Life would be a lot easier of you could make it through a whole school year without getting me called away from work."

I just nodded as Beth and I headed to our first-hour classes.

We were sitting in our first CAD drawing class when "Bethany Jones and Thomas Randahl please come to the office," blared from the PA. Beth and I looked at each other, shrugged and grabbed our books.

"So what do you think His Honor's going to hit us with?"

"Tommy, why do you have such a problem with Adams?"

"Maybe because he seems to like singling me out. I mean there were at least three other couples lip-locking out in that hallway. So why did he pick on us?"

Beth just shrugged.

We got to the office and, as usual, Adams kept us waiting, I guess that's his petty way of trying to prove who's in charge.

"Miss Jones, Mr. Randahl, come in here," our master speaks. So which of us was supposed to be Nipper? We entered the sanctum and faced our tormentor.

"What am I going to do with the two of you? After talking to your parents it's obvious where your disrespect comes from. Do you realize your parents did not believe me when I said behavior such as yours leads to teen pregnancy?" I glanced at Beth and almost lost it. She was trying to keep a serious expression on her face and not succeeding.

"Well, Mr. Randahl, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"Nothing, sir." Might as well be polite to the reactionary old fossil. Kissing leads to teen pregnancy? Boy, are we in trouble!

"Nothing? You've always had an opinion in the past. Surely you have something to say!"

"Yes. Sir. I do, but I'm not going to, sir."

"And why not?"

"I'll tell you why!" Beth erupted. "Because you don't really want to listen to him. You're just hoping he'll incriminate himself!"

"Miss Jones! I did not speak to you! Now Mr. Randahl, you will explain yourself. You have been a troublemaker for long enough!"

"Sir, there is no explanation that will satisfy you so I choose not to speak."

"Perhaps a suspension will loosen you tongue."

Suspended for grabbing a quick kiss in the hall? I wonder what Mr. Williams, the principal, would say to that?

"No, sir, it wouldn't. However if you really want me to speak, please let me use the phone first."

"No, I will not. Your mother has already been here. Who would you call?"

"My parents' attorney, of course."

"Attorney?" Suddenly Adams didn't seem so sure of himself. "Listen. The two of you get out of here and I don't want to hear of any more trouble from either of you!"

We got.

"What's going on with Mr. Adams?" Beth asked.

"I don't know He seems more hyped than usual with kids and sex. You don't suppose he's turning into a dirty old man, do you?"

Beth just shuddered.

Lunch that first day back was interesting. The lunch room looked subtly different and it took me a while to figure out what it was—during the summer break someone had replaced half of the eat your veggies posters with better living through abstinence ones. Adams' influence? Wasn't it bad enough that the school district was forced to teach abstinence-only in Sex Ed without pushing it down our throats everywhere else? I mean, kids our age always had sex on our minds and telling us "no" wasn't going to stop it. But between the new posters and Adams' almost foaming at the mouth over a simple hallway kiss I had a feeling something was up.

Our usual gang, and most of last year's "mice," were already sitting in our usual spot. This year they'd pulled another table over because group had grown with the addition of a bunch of new guys, mostly more music and theater geeks and a couple of science nerds. We sat down next to each other and spent a few minutes catching up on everybody's summer.

Beth had turned to answer a question from one of the girls when I got deluged by the guys.

"Um, Tommy, how do you meet a girl?" "Tommy, how do you talk to a girl?" "Tommy, where do you get condoms?" The last one generated a bunch of hoots and comments, "What do you need condoms for anyway?" "Kind of expensive water balloons aren't they?" and several others along the same lines.

Suddenly I found myself cast as a male Dear Abby! I heard Beth snicker next to me.

"Guys, listen, I'll tell you the same thing I told my brother: get to know the girl, ask her some questions—things like what did you think of lunch, how's your English class going, things to get them talking. Remember, if the GIRL is talking, YOU don't have to. And pay attention to what they say! Nothing will turn off a girl faster than having to answer the same question over and over.