Author's Note: This chapter is set 22 years before the beginning of the actual game.

Disclaimer: Deus Ex is owned by Eidos Interactive and Ion Storm. Kudos to both for creating such an excellent, chronically addicting game.

San Bernardino, California

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

Kevin woke up from his deep slumber as a result of the reverberating monotone.

Time: Six. Zero. Zero. AM. Good Morning, Kevin Roscoe.

"Aw, piss off." Kevin snapped, visibly annoyed by his sudden awakening. He sat up on his bed and attempted to shrug off his current fatigue. Whether it was the constant rioting outside his father's apartment, or the escapades of their boisterous neighbors in the room next door, the teenager rarely received adequate sleep during the night, and it affected him. Despite his intellect, he was barely maintaining a B-minus average at his school, and his father constantly hounded him about this.

"Kevin, are you awake? You better not be jerkin' off in there!" His dad exclaimed from the other side of the door.

"I'm awake, dad." Kevin annoyingly replied.

"You better hurry up. You have a big game tonight, and I want you to eat a good breakfast so you don't end up crapping out in the third quarter like you did against Miller."

His father was of course referring to a game a few months back where he passed out on the field after trying to throw a block against a linebacker twice his size.

Stephen Roscoe was a slightly heavyset man of about forty-five. Born and raised in the latter years of the twentieth century, he clung to the remaining ideals and philosophies that were popular when he grew up. Ideas like capitalism, democracy, and most importantly freedom. Ideologies that had been dead and gone for decades.

A recipient of bad luck, as some would say, the economy spiraled into collapse just as he was beginning adulthood. With nowhere else to turn, Stephen signed up for the Army and was immediately sent to Iraq. His luck would take a turn for the worse, when in his second tour of duty his squad was ambushed and he received multiple gunshot wounds. He was immediately given a medical discharge and sent back to the States. Stephen would always say, when he entertained guests with his war recollections, "Once I got better, Uncle Sam gave me a Purple Heart and a swift kick out the fucking door. God Bless America!"

Though not permanently disabled, he still had trouble finding work. He would have to settle for a job as a lowly factory worker, being paid meager wages. This made it infinitely difficult to raise his son, who was mothered by a young woman he met after leaving the Army. Her death during childbirth only complicated matters.

And so he raised Kevin by himself, despite failed early attempts to bring in a mother figure. And he pushed Kevin to the best of his ability. He shelled out a good chunk of his money to send Kevin to private schooling. He constantly lectured Kevin about maintaining a high grade-point average in order to earn scholarships. And when Kevin went out for football, Stephen became what some might say a football dad. Always criticizing every minute detail of his performance. Regulating his diet and his social life, monitoring his lifestyle to make sure he wouldn't fall into the wrong crowd and end up becoming a zyme fiend within five years.

It continuously ate away at Kevin's nerves, but Stephen knew it was necessary. He wanted his only son to have all the things he never did. To have a future, and not have to settle for becoming a human pin-cushion in the middle of the Iraqi oil fields.

Kevin labored out of his bedroom and into the small living room, where his father was watching a local morning news program.

...CDC officials are reporting widespread success of the new AIDS vaccine that was made public earlier last month. Already they're pushing for more funding to help continue and improve distribution of the cure. Officials are hoping that the resolution can be incorporated into next year's overall budget.

Kevin looked on from inside the kitchen as the anchors continued.

In a developing story, geologist are reporting an unusually high level of seismic activity in areas close to the San Andreas fault. A seismic center outside Palm Springs has already registered over fifty small tremors within it's range within the last twenty four hours. Scientists across the Southland right now are declaring this just as a simple anomaly, and should be no cause for concern. However, they are paying extra attention to this occurrence.

And now, lets head go over to sports, where Gus Leopold is standing by...

The broadcast continued as Kevin ate his cereal. Stephen's eyes were still glued to the television as sports scores streamed across the television.

"Motherfucker!" Stephen suddenly exclaimed, "The goddamn Raiders choked again!"

"Yeah, Jason called me at like eleven last night to gloat about it." Kevin replied calmly, tough clearly trying to show his displeasure.

"That why you didn't get out here for a half-hour?"

"That and the neighbors having a shooting match next door."

"Buncha' thugs if you ask me. Ain't nobody got any damned respect anymore. I swear this country's going to Hell in a trash bag, if you ask me. The same country I got laced with 7.62's for. The same god-forsaken..." Stephen continued his rant as Kevin walked back into his bedroom to get dressed for the day. After the usual shit, shower, and shave, Kevin grabbed his book bag and headed off to school on his mini-bike.

An abandoned alleyway, somewhere in the Pacific Northwest

"So, we gonna do this?"

"Doesn't look like we have much of a choice."

"It's not about choice. It's about what's at stake here."

"Spare me the rant. It's not like I've been living under a rock the last twenty years."

"All I'm saying is that if we're in, we're in all the way. No turning back."

The other man contemplated for a moment.

"And what if I say no."

"That's on you. No hard feelings. I just hope you're prepared for what happens next."

The anonymous man stared blankly in deep thought as his partner left. Damn it, he knew what was at stake. The only thing he questioned was whether or not it would work.

Bullshit, he though to himself. It didn't matter if it worked or not. Somebody's gotta stand up for what they believe. Nobody ever accomplished anything by wishful thinking.

He thought long and hard about this. He knew what he had to do, and he knew he had to go forward regardless of what happened. He knew at this point that he had nothing to lose.

The man picked up his mobile phone and dialed.

"Yeah?"

"Count me in." he said, hanging up the phone afterwards.

Kevin had worked three summer jobs to be able to afford his bike, but it was the only transportation he had. The state cut funding for school transportation back in 2024, which left a lot of young kids out in the cold. Many even had to quit school simply because they had no way to get there. Another nail in the coffin for the already dying public education system, along with the privatization of nearly half of previously public schools nationwide.

He pulled into the parking area of Cajon High School and armed the anti-theft mechanism on his bike, which would immediately send fifty-thousand volts of electricity through the body of anyone who tried to steal it. Though highly illegal, it gave him solace to know that he didn't have to rely on the school's half-assed security systems to protect his bike.

Immediately upon entering the school building, he made his way to the commons area to kick back before the school session started. He sat alone, looking over some of his homework while listening to his portable music device, which currently housed over 12,000 songs, many of which were by a band called The Demoralized. They were a neo-thrash/metalcore band that gained a large degree of popularity around 15 years ago, thanks to their tendency to openly speak out against the government and current economic downturn. Though Kevin somewhat sympathized with the lyrics, Kevin listened to them more because their aggressive style helped him get his adrenaline going for big games.

Just as he was reviewing his trigonometry homework, his friend Jason approached his table.

"Yeah, how 'bout them Raiders, bro!" Jason exclaimed as he smacked Kevin on the back and sat down in the chair next to him.

"Here to gloat, I know. You woke my ass up, by the way." Kevin replied.

"Wow, choke job was that bad, huh?"

"Say what you want, your Bolts are still four and six. At least we still have a winning record."

"Calm down, bro. Just messing around." Jason replied, suddenly changing his demeanor in a false attempt to make it seem like Jason was overreacting."

Kevin kept silent.

"So, you ready for the big game tonight?" Jason changed the subject.

"I better be. We win, we make the State Tournament. We lose, and we're fucked."

"Hey dude, you just go out there and kick ass. Break some fuckin' bones, for chrissake! Who knows, maybe you'll end up scoring some trim someday."

Someday. Kevin thought. Though he was well liked among the student body, mainly because his promotion to starting running back gave the school hope to finally have a good season, he was extremely shy around girls. This gave his friend endless ammunition to constantly mess with Kevin. For Pete's sake, he was still a virgin!

"Speaking of which, there's your girl." Jason pointed over to a tall, slender brunette in a cheerleader's uniform making her way toward her companions. Her name was Carrie, and Kevin had a huge crush on her dating all the way back to the onset of adolescence.

"Well, go for it dude. Worst she can say is no." Jason nudged him, encouraging Kevin to break the cycle.

"Are you crazy? She says no, all her little girlie friends will humiliate me!" Kevin dodged his friend's assertiveness.

"Dude, she's on the cheerleading squad. You're starting running back. It's a match made in heaven, dude! Plus, she's probably forgotten about what happened at that pool party last summer." Jason smirked, referring to an incident where he had jumped off the diving board into a cannonball and lost his pants, bringing his private parts in full view off every partygoer that was there, including Carrie.

"No way in hell. She wouldn't give me the time of day, regardless if I'm a starter now."

"Man you are such a pussy. See you in Chemistry class." Jason laughed as he headed toward his next class.

Maybe he's right, Kevin thought. Maybe I am just a pussy.

Kevin sat still for a moment.

You know what, screw it! I'll go over there right now. Who cares what her little posse thinks!

With that, Kevin worked up the courage to finally seal the deal and end the one thing that had been tormenting him since junior high school. Yes, he was finally gonna work up the balls to ask Carrie Jimenez out, and nothing could stop him.

Just as that last thought entered his mind, the five-minute bell rang, warning the students to get to class before the tardy bell rang.

Fuck! Kevin silently cursed at the interruption.

I was so close!

He continued to curse himself as he made his way toward his first class.

"...citizens are already in an uproar as several local police officers were reportedly gunned down in front of this abandoned shopping mall after receiving reports of suspicious activity in the area. Though the identity of the perpetrators is at this time unknown, witnesses report that the assailants were shouting a plethora of slanderous statements against the government before, during, and after the shootings took place. Per the 2029 revision of the Patriot Act, we are prohibited to repeat these said statements..."

Polished cunt, the man thought as he turned off the TV.

"And so it begins." His partner commented.

"With that? A damned media circus? You know all they're gonna do is make us look bad. They have to, it's the fucking law. She even said so herself!"

"Patience, my friend. I have it all figured out."

"How, if I may ask?"

The calmer man reached for his phone and dialed. "This is Cage, get Sanders on the phone right away."

He pressed a button, setting his mobile phone to speaker setting.

"Sanders here. What's the latest sir?" The voice came from the other end.

"What's the status on that video?" Cage inquired.

"Uplink complete sir. I'm uploading on the 'Net as we speak. It should be done by the time this call is over sir."

"Excellent work."

Cage made his way over to a computer and began typing. Immediately a loading screen popped up with the words "Processing Encryption" appeared on the screen. Soon after, a web address bar popped up, in which Cage continued to type.

"One new message"

He immediately brought up his inbox, and clicked on the last received message. It showed a video interface, in which Cage hit the play button.

"Come here, my friend." Cage commanded his partner, in the midst of the latter half of a bottle of whiskey.

Cage's partner obeyed and walked over to the computer screen. What greeted him sent a chill up his spine.

The video showed two policemen doing what looked like... attacking two men with riot prods. Though they looked as though they were subdued, one suddenly pulled out a pistol and shot one of the officers in the leg. As the other officer ignored his target and rushed to help his partner, the other victim brandished a knife and promptly slashed the throat of the injured police officer. As he keeled over, the knife-wielder wrapped his arm around the police officer's neck while the pistol-wielder placed his firearm at the side of the officer's head and fired, spraying blood, skin, brains, and bone fragments all over the asphalt. The knife-wielder immediately looked toward a crowd of bystanders, and began to speak.

"Fellow citizens, what you have seen today is the true colors of our government laid before our very eyes. The men and women sworn to protect us, acting in the manner of the so called 'terrorists' we've been made to fear. This shall not be forgotten. Let our actions be known today, so that one day we can all live in freedom. And when that time comes, we can all cry together in unison 'we shall not die in vain'. Go now, while there's still a chance for redemption."

The last frame froze at the end of the video clip, depicting the speaker with his fist reached skyward, further conveying his powerful message to it's recipients.

"This was taken by a surveillance recorder in the parking lot. You have Sanders' familiarity with the 'Net to thank for this."

Cage's partner stood motionless with a blank look in his eyes.

"In a few days, this surveillance video will show everybody the truth. That they're all being deceived. Then..."

Leon lit up a cigar, knowing full well what his partner would say next.

Kevin sat nervously in his desk, keeping his focus on the DigiBoard at the front of his class in order to calm down. He had his homework ready to pass toward the front of the classroom, and could easily answer any question if the teacher decided to put him on the spot. No, Kevin's nervousness had nothing to do with the course study.

It was Carrie. She was sitting right next to him. With the events of the morning fresh in his mind, he continued to play out different scenarios as to how he would strike up a conversation. What was it with this girl? She had occupied almost every single thought in his mind that day, and it was driving him insane. He was unable to concentrate on anything, even as the student behind him tapped him on the shoulder.

"Dude!" The kid yelled, snapping Kevin back to reality.

"Oh, crap. My bad." Kevin apologized and realized that they were passing their homework forward.

"Okay everybody," Mr. McMullen began his lecture for the day, "turn your books to page 196. Today, we're gonna be talking about 'inverse trigonometric functions'".

He wrote the subject on the DigiBoard as he spoke. Mr. McMullen scribbled a few example problems on the board during his lecture, but frankly, Kevin wasn't paying attention. His mind drifted once again to the girl sitting next to him. He went over numerous pickup lines in his head, dismissing all of them for various reasons. He finally settled on, "Hey you wanna go hang somewhere after the game?"Yeah, that would work. He rehearsed it in his mind, so he wouldn't screw it up when the big moment finally came.

Hey, you wanna go hang out after the game? Hey, you wanna go hang out after the game? Hey, you wanna...

"Mister Roscoe." His teacher said, carrying his voice across the room. Once again, he was back in reality.

"Yeah." Kevin replied calmly, acting as though he was listening the whole time.

"Do you mind telling us the formula for figuring the secant?"

Oh crap, he thought, if I blow this, I'll end up looking like a complete ass in front of everyone, including Carrie.

Calm down, he argued with himself, just look in the book. Mr. McMullen always teaches this stuff from the book.

He peered down at the text book, and there it was in plain English.

"Divide the hypotenuse by the adjacent side?" Kevin recited the answer.

"Right. As is the current them here, the secant of an angle is the length of the triangle's hypotenuse over the length adjacent to the angle you are working with, contrary to the..." Mr. McMullen continued on with his lecture. Good save, Kevin thought to himself.

Kevin found it easier to pay attention after the little scare, but he was still bored out of his mind. He already knew the stuff, so he would probably end up finishing the homework before class was even over. As the lecture concluded, Mr. McMullen wrote the assignment on the board, after which he sat at his desk and began browsing the 'Net. Immediately, a headline caught his eye: "Two officers murdered by suspected terrorists". Damn, he thought, things really are getting bad. His thoughts were interrupted by a voice, and he knew exactly who's voice it was.

"Hey Kevin", Carrie whispered as she leaned over, "Could you help me out with some of this?"

Why I most certainly will. Kevin said to himself, his inner voice almost resembling the suaveness of James Bond.

"Sure, what's up?" Came his actual reply.

"I'm a little stuck on number eleven. I can't figure out what do do with the reciprocal." She explained as she pointed toward her paper.

Thank you Jesus, Kevin thought to himself has he moved over to her desk. Despite his previous anxiety, he began to explain rather fluidly some of the stuff she was doing wrong. It all came easy to him, and as time went on he began to loosen up a little more. Turns out she needed more help that she thought she did, and Kevin was glad to provide it.

This was easier that he thought. Granted, he needed a little help, but he still felt it almost natural to carry on a normal conversation with her. Once they bot finished their homework, they made some small talk, mostly about music. To his surprise, Kevin found out that she was a big fan of The Demoralized, just as he was. They began talking about their favorite songs by the group, and shared a few concert experiences as well. Furthermore, they were both planning on seeing the band in Irvine next spring, and even asked if he wanted to tag along. Of course, he gladly agreed.

The bell immediately rang, cutting off their conversation.

Kevin walked out of the classroom toward the commons area for lunch, when he was stopped by Carrie.

Kevin turned to face her.

"Thanks for the help, Kevin." She kindly thanked him.

"Oh, no problem." Kevin replied.

"Now I know who to go."

"Yeah, I know. You need anymore, just give me a nudge." He said, nudging the air in a cheesy fashion. They both giggled for a split second.

"Well, good luck in the game tonight." She said as she turned away.

Kevin turned for a moment, in awe of what he'd accomplished.

Yesssssssssssss!

Later that night

The mood in the locker room was a somber one at best. An army of pad-laden football players labored to the bench, peeling off their jerseys and spiking their helmets on the ground. Some of them were inspecting injuries from the first half. A large portion of those players would not be back on the field for the second half.

They were down twenty-eight to three, and everything that could go wrong had done so. San Bernardino High had returned two punts for touchdowns, and an interception for the same result. Their only saving grace was a fifty yard pass to Glasson, the tight end, that set up a field goal. Simply put, Cajon was getting it's ass kicked, and the players were none too happy.

Coach Brick stood in the locker room to address his downtrodden team.

"Alright boys," His voice immediately carried across the locker room, "I know it looks like everything has gone to hell, but we've got two more quarters to play. Now I know we made some mistakes in the first half, but take away the three miscues and were only down seven to three. The goal here is simple: You guys have got to buckle down and play a little bit smarter out there! These guys are a good team, and they can't wait to capitalize on our screw-ups. Just continue to play good on defense and we can win this damn thing!

"Now, since we have a few injuries, we're gonna be shaking things up on offense. Roscoe!"

"Yes, coach?" Kevin replied.

"You're gonna be playing a little slot receiver for us. You had some good runs kid, but they're killing our ground game. If we make a few good pass plays, that'll take the pressure off of our backfield. Then we can really smoke 'em. Now, everybody huddle up."

The players all gathered toward the center of the locker room, and reached toward the center of the circle with their right hands. As they all met, the coach yelled, "One, two, three.", in which the circled yelled in unison, "Kick ass and take names!"

They all rushed out of the locker room, rejuvenated and ready to begin the second half. With them was Kevin, contemplating his ability to be such a vital role in the team's attempt at a comeback. He constantly though of failure, and the consequences of that failure. No, he couldn't screw up. Not now, not when his team needed him the most.

He sat on the sideline as the defense took the field. He watched as they continued to rip apart the opponent's effective, yet one-dimensional, running offense. Before he knew it, the defense had forced a punting situation. The punt return team immediately stood up and ran toward the field to line up for the next play. Kevin knew that once this play was over, it was his time to shine.

The previous return had placed them on the better side of the fifty yard line. He stood in the huddle as the quarterback called a play action fake to Dougherty, the fullback. Then he would screen the ball to Kevin.

Yes, a screen pass. A pass, but really a run. I can do this.

Kevin overlooked the field as the distant snap count reverberated throughout the field. The linebackers were preparing to blitz from the strong side, opposite to where Kevin was lined up. Perfect, they're doing exactly what I want them to do. The snap came, and so did the blitz. Dougherty was able to pick up one of the linebackers, but the other was staring Blanche (the quarterback) dead in the eye as he lobbed the ball toward Kevin. He made the catch perfectly and sprinted forward like a speeding bullet. Dodging a tackler, he inched toward the sideline, avoiding another tackle from a cornerback as he moved toward the center of the field. From there he saw... open field. Everyone was behind him, and all he had to was score. He kicked in the afterburners, hearing what he estimated was at least three pairs of footsteps has he soared toward his goal. Ge felt a hand graze his left leg and momentarily stumbled, but regained his speed and continued forward.

"He's at the twenty. The fifteen. Ten. Five. Touchdown Cajon!" The PA announcer exclaimed as Kevin was congratulated by his teammates.

As the extra point team made their way on to the field, Kevin headed toward the sideline to be congratulated by the coach.

"Nice play, kid. Don't get cocky though. We still have some ground to make up." Coach Brick provided his criticism.

The next few drives produced little results. San Bernardino did nothing on offense, but at the same time Cajon only scored one more touchdown at the beginning of the fourth quarter. It was off of a deep route to Elder, but the score was still twenty-eight to seventeen in favor of the opposition. Time was running out. They needed a big play, and that's exactly what they received at around the four minute mark.

San Bernardino lined up to punt for the tenth time in the second half. This time, however, things would be different. While Kevin watched on the sideline, there was something different about how everyone was lined up. The ball was snapped, and Bradley sprinted toward the opponent's punter, diving forward as the ball was kicked. Punt block. Hernandez scooped up the ball, and sprinted toward the end zone. They were only down by four points with four minutes left. They only needed one more possession to seal the deal.

San Bernardino got the ball back at their forty-three yard line. Kevin was confident that the defense would make a big stop, allowing them to move down the field to make the game winning drive. Those hopes were immediately dashed when San Bernardino completed a pass down to the opposing four yard line. This can't be happening. They had to make a stop.

Everything was playing in slow motion. The defense had forced a fourth down after two knockdowns and a run on the weak side for no gain. Fourth and goal, the kind of stuff you see in the movies.

The ball was snapped again, being handed off to the opposing running back. Two defensive players struggled to bring him down as he continued to pus toward the end zone. No! He chugged forward, every yard that much more difficult as he was brought down at the one-yard line. Turnover on downs. Cajon possession.

"Okay boys," The coach motioned as he began to address the offense, "This is it. We can't screw up now. We have less than three minutes and ninety-nine yards sitting between us and victory. This is what's gonna make you guy's heroes, regardless of what you end up doing for the rest of your life. Make them proud." He said as he pointed toward the stands, filled with parents, relatives, and friends of the players.

The offense hustled on to the field to prepare for the next drive. Just like in the movies.

They slowly but surely advanced down the field, mixing their play-calling up between running and passing. Kevin made the bulk of the progress, churning out a couple of twenty-yard runs. The result of their efforts placed them at the opponent's thirty yard line with twenty-five seconds to go. Blanche made the play call, which was a five-wide set, all of them going deep.

They lined up, and the ball was snapped into Blanche's hands. Dodging two defensive ends waiting to pound him into the dirt and end their comeback attempt, Blanche sheaved the ball toward Kevin, who was just five yards outside of the end zone. Kevin caught the ball, and immediately pounded through two defensive backs, who mercilessly tossed him down. He was on the two yard line. Eleven seconds left.

Blanche rushed everybody to the two yard line, lined up the play, and stopped the clock by spiking the ball. Four seconds.

Blanche called the huddle together. He had time to call one last play. I had that touchdown. All I needed was two more yards. They were still there, the game still going, but Kevin wanted redemption.

"Give me the ball." Kevin interrupted the play call. The huddle fell silent.

"Just hand it off to me, and I'll run it through the middle." He continued.

"Are you sure? Their D-line's arms look bigger than you do!" Blanche replied

"Look, I can do it. I promise."

"You better pull this off, or we're all putting heat rub in your jock after the game. I'm talking a tube at at time. Ready, break."

They hustled toward the line. To Kevin, heat rub was the least of his worries. He wanted to be the hero of this game, no matter what it took. It was do or die, everything was at stake if he blew this play. His entire reputation was at stake. And there was also... Carrie. He wanted to impress Carrie.

The ball was snapped. Blanche immediately handed the ball off to Kevin as he sprinted between to lineman. There, he was met by a linebacker, who fought like the bowels of Hell to stop him. Kevin replicated this, pushing with all his might as he inched ever so closer to the end zone. Closer... closer. He felt a kick at his leg as his body fell down. Oh no, did I make it? I didn't make it, did I? Damn it, we lost! Fuck! He looked up at the scoreboard as it read "Visitor: 28, Cajon: 31".

It was over. He had scored the game-winning touchdown and led them to the State Tournament. The fans rushed the field in excitement as the whole team gathered around Kevin to congratulate him.

"You did it!"

"Hell yeah! That was awesome, Kev!"

"You kick ass!"

"Good job, you just made yourself a hero!" Coach Brick patted him on the back as he made his way toward the sideline.

"Nice run." Carrie said to him as she walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and looking him dead in the eye.

"Thank you." He replied, excitement in his voice.

They both stood quiet for what seemed like and eternity.

"Listen," she broke the silence, "I was wondering if..."

"Kevin!" the voice of none other than his dad interrupted Carrie.

"Hold on a minute, dad!" Kevin shouted.

"No, go ahead. I'll wait." Carrie interjected.

Kevin begrudgingly walked over to Stephen, immediately met with a bear-sized hug.

"Jesus Christ, that was better than the 'Hook and Lateral'!" Stephen exclaimed, releasing Kevin.

"Thanks, I really appreciate it." Kevin replied with gratitude.

"Who's your friend?" Stephen inquired, pointing over to Carrie.

"Oh, hold on." Kevin called the girl over, "Dad, this is my friend Carrie. Carrie, Dad."

"Stephen Roscoe." He said as he shook her hand.

"Umm, Kevin." She turned over to the boy, "I was wondering if you wanted to go hang out somewhere."

It was like she'd read his mind in trig class.

"Sure, that'd be great." Enthusiastically, he replied.

He saw his dad strolling away toward the stands. As strict as Stephen was, he had to at least ask if it was cool to go off somewhere with a cute girl. That was one of the things that sucked, and probably was a big reason why he hadn't been laid in the first place.

"Dad!" Kevin said, stopping Stephen in his tracks.

"If you're wanting to know whether or not you and Carrie can go 'hang out'" He made quotation marks with his fingers, "the answer is... yes."

Kevin was floored. Dad rarely let him hang out with Jason on a Friday night, let alone a member of the cheerleading squad.

"Go have fun, and be careful." Stephen instructed his son. "One more thing before you go." He said as he reached into his pocket. It was a condom, which he tossed at Kevin.

"Good Luck."

They were driving on a winding, pitch-black mountain road, navigating the steep hills as the car moved endlessly into the night.

"Where are we going?" Kevin said, breaking the silence.

"Somewhere." Carrie replied.

"And where is that 'somewhere'?" He continued, not satisfied with her previous response.

"It's a secret."

He sighed. Where were they going? He had a feeling that he knew the type of place that they were headed. Somewhere secluded, perhaps, so the could 'fool around'. Though the present situation presented itself that way, he felt that he shouldn't get his hopes up. Not after what history had already showed him.

The car finally stopped on the side of the road, next to a secluded bluff overlooking their hometown. Below them was a dizzying array of street lights, signs, cars, and the like. But what surprised him the most were the stars. They shone brighter than anything he'd ever seen. In awe, he stood dazed by the sheer beauty of it all. As he was looking, he felt a hand grab his, and looked toward Carrie.

"Come on." She said, a seductive tone to her voice.

They walked toward the bluff, and his heart immediately began to pound against his chest, worse than he could immediately recall. He felt sweat trickle down various parts of his body. This was it. My big moment will finally arrive. Tonight, Kevin Roscoe, you will become a man.

"You're really tense." Carrie whispered in a soft, seductive voice. It calmed him a little, but that was nothing compared to what happened next. She leaned toward him, brought her lips toward his, and kissed him. Kevin felt everything melt away, and at that moment is was just Kevin and Carrie. Not a care about the outside world, only what was going on between those two at that very moment. She pulled away and began to pull off the top from her cheerleader's uniform, revealing nothing but a black silk bra. She leaned forward again, continuing to kiss Kevin as his hand began to feel under her bra, caressing her unexposed breast. It felt nice.

Carrie left out a soft moan as he pulled away, reaching his right hand behind her back to undo the clasp to her bra. He succeeded, and Carrie began to slide the straps off of her shoulders.

And as she did, the ground began to shake.

Violently.

Author's Note: Apologies for the cliffhanger. This chapter was getting long so I had to find a stopping point. Hope to have the next chapter as soon as possible. This is my first fanfic, so constructive criticism – negative and positive - is welcomed and appreciated.