Adam chooses black. “Exactly and it does work like that, Admin being still the head of the place, the office staff is still the office staff, school paper and media things is advertising and the classrooms are division heads as well as clubs and teams are like special projects.”

Alex moves first and they start to play and they’re not bad and they’re not slow at first either the first ten of twelve moves are fast and that’s just positioning and April gets the coffee pot and fills us all up and she sits back down to watch too and Adam says.

“So if you two are going to do this we should take a real hard look at things so…” and he has this look on his face like he’s not quite sure that he even thought that he’d be asking us this. “Tell me about your school.”

*And Now…

Alexa Chapter 3: Let’s Do This

I could hear the sound of an alarm in the background. I try to open my eyes but all I see is a mass of hair in front of them. It’s brown in color so it has me monetarily confused. Then the throbbing begins. Why did we drink so much last night? Why am I in bed with Katie and why is there a cat laying on my head? All questions my hungover brain does not want to answer. Next to me I hear a load groan as the alarm is shut off. Well at least Katie is in bad shape too.

Introduction: This is another story in the Cynthia Chronicles series. Other stories in the series are An Incremental Journey, Cynthia and the Reluctant Girlfriend, Cynthia and the Dumpster Diver, Cynthia and the Moment of Truth, Cynthia and the High School Years - Part I, Cynthia and the High School Years - Part II, Charli and the Girl Cave, Bobbie and the Glass Ceiling, Randi and the College Professor, Adam and the Three Wishes, Lisa and the Culinary Quest (aka Howard and the Completed pass), Cynthia and the Solicitous Sisters-in-Law, Cynthia and the Queen of the Knight, and Cynthia and the Dropped Ball. The time frame of this story follows about three to four years after Charli and the Girl Cave. This story takes place a little more than a year after Bobbie Anderson wins the (British) Open and about ten years after Simoné and the Second Time Around.

This brings me around to that last story. I thought it was a nice little story full of romance, love and a bit of magic. The story bombed! It had absolutely the worst reception of anything I’d posted at this site. Part of the problem had been a very poor first choice for a title. We won’t go into that. About this story: In Cynthia and the High School Years we learn that Cynthia’s mother was adopted. She’d never taken the time to find out anything about her origin. We learn some other unanswered questions in Simoné and the Second Time Around. I thought I’d try to answer some of those questions; however, I may have left more questions to be answered at a later date. Someone asked me to write a bit more about Marti Lewis, Cynthia’s youngest sister. I thought this was as good an opportunity as any. Marti makes an appearance in Randi and the College Professor

Erica adjusts more to her new role... and learns more about what 'adjusting' means.

“My goodness,” Jenna said as she walked slowly around Vanessa. She licked her black lips thoughtfully. “You do look a Verran. And that top is to die for. I might have to start making both Verran and Furran fashion, though that would put me in competition with my good friend up the way,” she said with a laugh.

I look at the three other women in the room. Of them, only Ronnie already knows the basics of my idea. I don’t have the details, but that is what my two Moms are for…working those out!

Author's Note:

As I mentioned, I am on travel, so this is a bit of a shorter chapter. If I get any more posted this week, they will likely all be shorter--I will get back to more normal posting this coming weekend/next week (hopefully).

Happy Reading!

HUGS!

Life at school is settling into somewhat of a routine. The ‘reds’ are being quiet—I wouldn’t go as far as to say they are tolerant, but I think they know enough to lay low. That doesn’t mean that I trust the ‘truce’.

Author's Note:

Hi All, I know the last chapter wasn't everyone's cup of tea--I needed to clean up some things with Misty and these last two chapters were the best way I could think to do it... Also, I know that the sex in the last chapter wasn't to everyone's taste. To be honest, it isn't mine, either. I won't be doing anymore in this series (at least not that explicit--teens in love, will be teens in love, after all... :) ).

I look at Butch and Felix and know that if things get ugly, there is no way they can handle this many. That idiot Graham is out front and center of the crowd—many of which are on the football team. They don’t look at all friendly. And to think I used to be friends with most of them—even George and Rupe, my former best friends.

Before anyone can make a move, Chrissy and Ginny come up behind us in full cheerleading uniforms. They stand out in front of our group and glare at the football players on the other side.

Alexa Chapter 1: The Great Experiment

The Palm Reader

“Being friends with Laura Towers was and still is an adventure.

Take the summer after our grade eleven year, for example ...”

****

Then ...

“Come on, Tom. I wanna go to the fair!”

“What about James Parker, he’s your boyfriend.”

“He’s working, and I wanna go, please?”

****

“Hey, look! That tent, it says, ‘Psychic and Palm reader - free readings’!”

“It’s a scam, Laura”

“How can it be a scam when it’s free?”

“Fine ...”

“Come in, children.”

Momma looks at me, concerned, and says, “Maybe Angi is right, Love. Maybe a private school IS a better solution…”

I shake my head. If this whole affair has done nothing, it has taught me to stand my ground. I say, “Momma, think about it…do you REALLY think there aren’t bigots and bullies at private schools? All that will happen is that it will be covered up that I’m ‘TG’—then I have to ALWAYS worry that that will somehow be discovered.”

The next two weeks fly by.

It is a HUGE relief for it all to be out in the open with Francie—and our relationship is growing by leaps and bounds (and Francie IS being the mature one—DANG IT!). I fall more in love every day, I think. I know what you are thinking…what does an (almost) fifteen-year-old know about love? All I can say is that there is NO doubt in my heart that Francie is THE one for me…

I am sitting with Francie at lunch and she grins at me. I ask, “What?”

She shakes her head and says, “I don’t know. You’re different today… Like…you’re at peace, or something. I don’t know what it is…but…WHATEVER it is—I LIKE what it has done to you!”

I smile and shake my head. I say, “I’ll tell you about it, Francie. Later. Right now, I have to concentrate on kicking some ‘other’ camp ass! Speaking of…Is Madame Pratt serious about that lift with Michael? I mean, I know HE can handle it…but…am *I* really ready?”

I approach the beach at the lake. I am in my skimpy pink bikini—my new matching belly jewel glittering in the sunlight. I feel foolish with it in. I feel even more foolish knowing that my nose is glittering along with it under my blinged-out, girly sunglasses. On top of that, I know that I am COMPLETELY flat, thanks to the glued-on ‘vagina’ that I fully know I sport—all thanks to Allen…

“I, Nicola Christine Thomas,” I whisper as tears start to trickle from my eyes. “Take you, Sarah Jennifer Phillips…”

“Beep,” the minister says, derailing my train of thought. “Beep, beep, beep, beep….” I let out a long sigh as the pristine white veil of my wedding dress is replaced by the dark brown veil of my hair, which had flopped down in front of my face whilst I was sleeping.

“Morning,” I whisper to the beautiful girl whose face is the first thing I see every morning when I wake up- and whose own brown hair is, of course, tied back and away from her face.

Francie is waiting for me when I get back to the Pink House. She is looking at her tablet and smiles as she looks up at me and says, “Congrats, Paige! You can finally start getting active again. It’s too late for the swim team this morning, since they start really early. We’ll get you there in the morning. Cheerleading’s later this afternoon—every day. Ballet starts in about an hour—we have just enough time to get you outfitted. It’s also every day.”

I sigh and say, “I don’t know, Francie. I have never done ANY of this…”

Overall, I was a happy boy. Sure, it was a really sad time when my Dad died two years ago, when I was eleven, but Mom met a guy that turned out to be OK—or so I thought. This is my story—as best as I can piece together the entirety of the events…

Let me catch up to the important part really quickly:

I yawn loudly as my alarm clock wakes me, and my yawns quickly turn to groans as I brush my growing blonde hair from my forehead and roll onto my sore, cramping stomach before grabbing my phone and switching off my alarm.