Summary: Discovering who you are is not easy when you're nine. Especially, when Mom wants you to clean your room.

Later that night, I returned to Shelly's room. As soon as she saw me, she pulled me in and closed the door. “What happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don't play coy with me. You have the look of someone who spent some time doe-eyed with a boy. Spill.”

“Marc and I kissed.”

“A four word sentence is insufficient. What did you say? What did he say? Where did he touch you?”

“He was a perfect gentleman. We kissed several time before getting dinner in the cafe. It was very wholesome.”

“Wholesome? What, no groping?”

“Not even once.”

Lance sees a makeover offer at a costume shop that he couldn't pass up. Unfortunately, he didn't have the money to pay for it, but the store owner was willing to make a deal.

  Larry has a secret. He’s been keeping a secret since he was 9. He’s been very successful at keeping it. In all those years not one person has ever been aware of this one thing about him that no one can ever know. Not his parents, not his friends growing up, not his fellow students when he was in college, not his buddies when he was in the Navy, not his coworkers at his job and especially not his wife.

  He particularly careful to keep his wife from knowing. No doubt she’s kick his rear to the curb, if she found out. Oh he’d read all the horror stories of wives who’d found out this kind of thing about their husbands. It never ended well. What’s more as often as not once the wives found out and made a stink, the poor saps employer would find out and they would lose their job as well. No, not pretty at all.

  He must keep his wife in the dark at all costs. He always puts back in the precise spot anything of hers he borrows. She’ll never, can never know.

The evidence he was searching for was right there in front of him when Sergei arrived in the middle of town the next morning. The same two leather jacketed men were loitering about close to the railway station as people arrived for work.

Summary: Ryan is turning 10. Big brother Mike spends his whole paycheck in an attempt to get the perfect birthday gifts. How well does Mike know Ryan?

The Trial

I had all the members of the church and those in positions of power within the station lined up in the throne room. I made sure that this trial was broadcast throughout the Empire. Minsha was sitting next to me upon the dais. Looking down at all the people that I needed to judge and sentence, but I had to seem like a was not a malevolent ruler.

See the thing to know about me, the one and only Eddie Russo is that I don't back down from a fight. I've never cared about picking fights I can win. 5 versus 1? Bring it. No one makes Eddie their bitch. Certainly not some hormone fueled teenager.

"Relax Murphy, I come in peace" Noah said as he approached our table. Turning to me, he added "You got me in a lot of shit yesterday"

"You only have yourself to blame" I replied snarkly.

"You're real mouthy knowing you boyfriend is going to protect you" he laughed at his statement which infuriated me.

“Pete, Petey, Pete,” she whispered. “What we have, who we are, what we do in this world...

Joanna started chasing everyone out, telling them, “I want to lock all the doors and bar the windows against Bev coming back with her little friends.” The cops put in an appearance, but Mr. Linklater, being a mover and shaker in the community, they were willing to take Joanna’s recommendation that she come down on Monday and make a statement.

When the cops had gone, everyone else said goodbyes and left, too. The party had ended, and with some surprise, we noticed that it was nearly midnight.

I found a phone and used it to tell my folks that I’d be staying at Chez Linklater, which I had done before. Most recently, on the night this had all started.

“Is Megan with you?” Mom wanted to know.

“Yeah,” I said. “She’s on another phone talking to her mother.”

Mom laughed at that. “Bring her by for breakfast tomorrow, and she can go to church with us?”

“She’s Catholic, Mom,” I protested. “But I’ll suggest it to her.”

“We don’t have to tell anyone,” Mom answered, and I laughed. Friendly is a hotbed of Latter Day Saints (Mormons), but our church was mainline Protestant. The line about not telling anyone was a family joke.

*

Megan and I ended up in one of the bedrooms upstairs.

It was cold, and we were both wearing shortie pajamas loaned to us by Joanna. Mine were gold and green, and Megan’s, powder blue with white trim. After we climbed into bed, we got naked under the covers again, tossing the PJs onto the floor.

“Can we just hold each other?” I asked, crawling across the queen-size bed.

“Sure,” Megan agreed and glommed onto me with arms that were pretty much as strong as my own.

I had to laugh, hugging her back. We kissed and cuddled for several minutes, something like our behavior in bed on previous occasions, but perhaps missing an element. This felt more like affection and less like passion, and somehow that was okay.

“You’re not mad?” I asked while nibbling on an ear lobe.

She giggled against my neck. “About what?”

“Uh?” I tried to articulate, but she had seized my shoulder in her teeth and pretended to gnaw on my clavicle. It felt silly and sweet. “Maybe I forget?” I ventured.

“Forget what?” she murmured. Then pulled back a little to peer at me through her messy curls.

“Exactly,” I said, and we both laughed, face to face, almost eyeball to eyeball, with our chests, and breasts, pressed against each other.

“My-uh-my-uh, date?” I almost gasped as she changed focus, one hand on a nipple and the other burrowing under me, between my thighs.

“With Lee?’ she whispered.

“Um, yeah?” I grunted.

We didn’t say anything for a while, both concentrating on not thinking. Her skin felt slippery as I lowered my mouth to her breast while her fingers found something to play with—down there.

After a bit, we both gasped, almost simultaneously. It felt good, and we lay in each other’s arms together for several minutes.

“Uh,” I said to her.

“Uh?” she replied.

“About..?”

“Oh,” she murmured. “Have fun,” she added with a giggle.

“With Lee?” I had to know if she meant that.

“Pete, Petey, Pete,” she whispered. “What we have, who we are, what we do in this world, was never meant to be forever.”

I sighed. “I will love you always,” I promised.

I felt her nod against my back. “And I will you,” she said softly. “Just probably not like this again.”

I cried while she held me. Then we kissed again and fell asleep, still cuddled together.

Summary: A Mom reflecting on her little girl growing up.

Led Into It
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

I don’t know how I let it get this far. I blame Abigail, but not in a nasty way. She is still my BFF.

She said that whole Lolita thing was a fashion statement. She said that is about expressing your femininity in an ageless way, although there are plenty who think that it is a bit creepy.

She said that the fashions are not “little girl outfits” but clothes that deny age. I have to say, that she looked great in those clothes. I told her so.

Why did I know that? Don't panic. I had to figure this out. I had never been the same person twice and certainly not two days in a row.

My mind darted to her locker code. 14,22,7. I didn't just remember it from yesterday, I remembered it from the start of the school year.

My mind darted from one memory to another before being pulled to focus on the heavy footsteps rapidly approaching my door. A moment later, the door opened with her father peaking through. He looked worried for a moment but his expression slowly dissipated into a neutral one.