Chapter 1

"I saw what you were doing," Jamie told me, just standing there like he had a question about his algebra homework. Classes were finished for the morning and he should have been on his way to the cafeteria for lunch.

"What?" I smiled at the boy uncertainly, but I had a knot in my stomach and my heart skipped a beat, several of them.

"You and Lonnie," he said softly, although we were alone then, the other seventh graders having gone to lunch. "I saw you."

"Saw what, Jamie?" I asked, trying to look innocent, but I already knew what he was going to say.

"You were kissing her," the thirteen year old said. he looked as frightened as I felt, to tell the truth. His blue eyes were avoiding mine and he clutched his books to his chest protectively, shifting from one leg to the other.

"I see," I said with a frown. "Well, I don't know what you think you saw, Jamie," I shrugged, "but you didn't see that, okay?"

"Yeah, I did," he replied, looking up suddenly. His eyes found mine and I forced myself to stare back at him. "In your car last Saturday. You guys were at the mall."

"That wasn't me," I told him. "And if you tell anyone lies like that, you'll be in a lot of trouble and..."

"I took some pictures," he said. "With my mom's phone. It's got a camera."

"What?" I blinked and my heart did stop as I assumed the worst. "Your mom saw..."

"No." Jamie shook his blonde head. "She wasn't there, just me. I got the pictures though."

"Okay." I licked my lips and could hardly breathe. "What do you want?"

"I want you to like me too," Jamie said, looking down again.

"I do like you, Jamie," I told him and it wasn't a lie. The boy was quiet, but friendly enough. He did his homework and got along with the other kids. So far as students went, I liked him just fine.

"I mean..." He swallowed hard, giving me those eyes again, wide and frightened.

"What?" I asked him. "You don't need help with your grades, you're doing just fine. Do you need a little extra pocket money?"

Jamie was blackmailing me, obviously, but I couldn't figure out what he wanted. He was already getting an A in my class, probably in all of his other ones too. If he wanted a new bike, I could do that. If he wanted some money, fine. How much could the boy need? I'd give Jamie just about anything he wanted if it meant I got to keep my job, my marriage, and my freedom. I really didn't want to go to prison for the statutory rape of a seventh grader named Lonnie Simpson.

"No." He shook his head, "I just want you to like me the way, um ... the way you like her."

"What do you mean?" I asked him, finding no sense in that.

"I want you to ... kiss me and stuff," Jamie said, biting his bottom lip and shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"Oh." I blinked at that and leaned back in my chair.

"I love you, Mr. Valentine," he told me, looking ready to run away after confessing that. "I want you to love me too. That's all."

"I see." I nodded slowly. "We're boys though, Jamie, and..."

"I know," he said quickly. "That's why, uh ... I got the pictures."

"Right," I agreed. "The pictures. Okay, well..."

"They're on my computer now," Jamie said. "Not on the phone anymore."

"Okay, uh..." I tried to think, but all my ideas seemed bad and I only had one in any case. "Are your parents home? Is anyone at your house right now?"

"No." Jamie shook his head. "Mom's working. My sister's at her boyfriend's house."

"Good, good." I smiled at him, trying to look sincere. "Let's go to your house, okay? We can delete the pictures and then, uh ... we can talk about this some more, alright?"

"Do you love me?" he asked.

"Well, I don't know, Jamie." I kept, smiling but my brain was still trying to catch up. "I like you a lot, you know that. I think we should just spend a little time together first. Talking and getting to know each other."

"Okay," he said.

"We need to be able to trust each other, Jamie. See? And I have to trust you before I can, um ... love you. Right?"

"Yeah," he agreed, and the boy's hands shook with fear or excitement, probably both. I felt the same, but for very different reasons.

"So let's go to your house and..."

"Won't we get in trouble?" Jamie asked. "If we leave the school?"

"No, we'll be back before lunch is over," I assured him, very much hoping that was true, but even if it wasn't ... I had to get rid of those pictures.

I gave the boy a cardboard box, a largely empty one, but nobody would know that. He was just helping me carry some old books to my car, some old text books I wanted to donate to the Salvation Army thrift store, if anyone should see us and wonder. Nobody did.

"Okay, you have to give me directions, Jamie," I said and I wasn't very relaxed. Taking a thirteen year old student out of school, to his empty house in my own car? That was like begging for questions that I wouldn't be able to answer and proves my obvious desperation.

"That way," he pointed.

"Alright, let's go," I breathed.

"I always liked you a lot," Jamie told me a few minutes later. "I just didn't know how to tell you before."

"Well, Jamie. See, you're growing up and that can be a tough thing to do." I really wanted to talk the boy out of his confused feelings; it would make everything a lot easier.

"Yeah." He nodded, smiling shyly as he sat in the passenger seat of my Volvo.

"When a boy is your age and his body starts changing, your emotions change too," I said gently. "You get feelings that you don't understand right away and sometimes, well, those feelings can even be wrong."

"Wrong?" He frowned at that.

"Yeah. I mean, a good looking boy like you should like girls, don't you think?" I smiled at him. "I'm sure some of the girls in your class like you."

"Maybe," Jamie replied with a shrug. "But I don't like girls, just you mostly."

"Uh, okay." I cleared my throat. "Has your mom or dad ever talked to you about this stuff?"

"I don't have a dad," he told me. "My mom doesn't talk to me about anything."

"Oh." I began to understand finally. "Maybe you really want a dad then. Like part of you inside wants a father and that's why you like me so much. It isn't really love, it's something else, and..."

"No, Mr. Valentine." Jamie smiled at me. "I really love you. I thought about it a lot already."

"I'm sure, yeah," I agreed reluctantly. "You're a smart boy, one of the smartest boys in the whole school, but do you know I'm married?"

"Yeah," he sighed, frowning at that.

"I have a wife and I love her, see?" I hoped I could disappoint him gently, let Jamie down nice and soft.

"So..." he looked at me. "Why were you kissing Lonnie? You love her too, right?"

"No, I don't love Lonnie." I shook my head. "She was sad, that's all. She was crying and I just wanted to make her feel better. Doesn't your mom kiss you if you cry sometimes?"

"Sometimes. She used to when I was little," he said. "But not like that and you're not her dad."

"I know, but I'm her teacher and that's kind of like being a dad," I said. "I could be your dad sometimes too, you know? Like if you want to play basketball sometimes, or need help with something. I can talk to your mom and..."

"I don't want you to be like my dad." Jamie shook his head and then pointed. "You gotta turn here, I live that way."

"You don't?" I asked, taking the turn and thinking I'd almost been making some progress with the boy.

"Uh-uh," he told me. "I want you to be my boyfriend."

"Ah." I licked my lips. "Well, Jamie, I'm a man. I like girls, you know?"

"I know," he said. "I thought about that a lot too."

"You did?" I glanced at him.

"Yeah." he took a deep breath and smiled. "I'll show you when we get to my house, okay?"

"Uh, okay," I sighed softly, not knowing what else I could say. I was praying, really, making deals with God to get me out of this.

Lonnie had been easy and not the first, I confess. I've always liked girls that age. Between twelve and about fourteen years old, just hitting puberty and so full of sexual promise, but innocent as well. They're perfect somehow and I don't know why. I'd never been abused or neglected; it's just how it is. I'm a good looking man too, not like an actor or anything, but tall with thick black hair and a handsome, chiseled sort of face. Deep blue eyes and a trim, athletic body. I've always had good luck with girls, especially the younger ones. I have a way with them and Lonnie was typical of all my affairs, and I'd had more than a few over the years.

I was cursing myself for my weakness right then, believe me. My carelessness more than that, because in point of fact, I didn't feel terrible about seducing a thirteen year old girl. I'd rather enjoyed every part of it and after Lonnie, I knew I'd want another one. They're addictive that way and so I was angry I'd gotten caught, that's all. So please, God, let me off the hook, just this once and I'll be so careful next time...

I doubt God was impressed.

"That's my house," Jamie said, pointing at a small trailer. It wasn't kept up very well and not in the best neighborhood either.

Trailer parks never are. The trailer next door had three guys sitting around a fourth while he worked on a big Harley. They were bikers, all large and leather, tattooed and drinking beer. On the other side, a rusted trailer looked burned out, like someone had taken a flamethrower to it. There was graffiti painted on the blackened sides. Across the street an old swing set lay on its side, rusted bikes and dismantled appliances scattered about. An old Ford Maverick sat in the driveway, eaten away and painted primer red with no tires and no hood.

"You live here?" I looked at the boy and Jamie shrugged.

I was extremely nervous as I parked in front of his home and got out, knowing the little motorcycle gang was watching me. A thirty year old man, clean cut and wearing a two piece suit and tie, following a thirteen year old boy into his trailer? I tried not to imagine what they might be thinking, but that was just guilt or bad nerves. They probably thought I was from social services and I tried to play that role, looking around with disdain, nodding like I was taking mental notes. Whether it worked for them or not, I have no idea, but it made me feel better anyway.