SANTA BARBARA- 1990

"Henry!" Madeline scolded her husband, walking into the living room and catching him rooting through Shawn's backpack.

"What?" he grunted, looking up at her as if he didn't have a clue he was doing anything wrong.

"You've got to stop going through Shawn's things!" she chided, snatching it away from him. "You wouldn't go through a perp's house without a search warrant!"

"He's not a perp!" Henry protested. "He's my son!"

"So, a suspected felon has more right than your own son?" Madeline rolled her eyes, zipping the bag up again and dropping it on the floor. "Doesn't that strike you as just slightly twisted logic?"

"It's report card day!" Henry shot back, as if this explained everything. "I was just looking for his report card."

"Did you find it?" she asked, intrigued now.

"No…" he muttered, holding up a piece of notebook paper that had been folded in half with a single, neat crease. "But I found this."

"What is it?"

"A note."

"Wow…no wonder you're the detective in the family," Madeline laughed, rolling her eyes. "I figured it was a note, Henry. But unless it's a blackmail note, you still have no right to be going through his things. Leave him alone!"

She smacked him gently on the shoulder and started for the door, but stopped when Henry called after her.

"It's not a blackmail note," he said, unfolding it and reading it as if he were reading the list of charges. "Lauren—Do you like me? Check one—Yes or No? –Shawn."

Madeline smiled, looking at her husband curiously. "So?"

"So what the hell is he doing writing a note like that?" Henry demanded, waving it through the air.

"Obviously, he has a crush on girl."

"Since when?" Henry snorted. "He's only twelve! He still thinks girls have cooties!"

Madeline laughed, shaking her head in quiet amusement. "Henry, think back to when you were twelve…assuming you weren't just born a thirty-year-old grump. Don't you remember the first time you realized girls didn't have cooties?"

Henry squinted, trying to remember back that far. "Yeah…"

"Didn't you ever write a note to a girl?"

"No!" he snorted, the idea completely preposterous.

She laughed and rolled her eyes, turning around again and heading back into the kitchen. "No…" she agreed, snorting sarcastically. "You probably just flashed your hall monitor badge and they just swooned at your feet."

He blinked, shoving the note into his pocket as he followed her into the kitchen. "I sure as hell never asked a girl to check a box!" he muttered. "And that hall monitor badge commanded respect!"

SANTA BARBARA—2025

"Hey, Will," Shawn greeted his son as he walked into the kitchen.

Will looked up from his bowl of cereal, blinking at his father but not saying a word.

"Uh…good morning?" Shawn tried again, raising a curious eyebrow.

Still no response from Will.

Shawn slid into the chair across from him, pouring himself a bowl of cereal, still watching his son, who continued to blink mutely at him.

"Are…you okay?" he laughed.

Will nodded, his lips clamping even tighter.

"Okay…" Shawn sighed, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms across his chest. "What's going on?"

Will shook his head fervently, his eyes widening as he tried to convey with just his face that absolutely nothing was wrong.

Of course, Shawn wasn't buying it for a minute.

He'd pulled the innocent act too many times with his own father.

"Did you get suspended again?" he asked.

Will shook his head.

Shawn groaned. "You didn't set the school on fire, did you? Please tell me you didn't set the school on fire!"

"No!" Will squeaked, finally cracking and talking.

Shawn was completely baffled now.

What could possibly be this bad?

"Then, what--?"

"My voice is broken!" Will burst out, his voice a several octaves higher than usual.

Shawn stared at him for a moment, fighting the impulse to laugh.

Finally, the impulse won out.

"What?" he snorted, biting it back as best he could. "Your voice is what?"

"Broken!" Will sobbed again, his voice cracking even more this time as he fought back the tears. "I can't fix it!"

"It's not broken, Kid," Shawn chuckled. "It's just changing."

Will's eyes grew wide in terror. "Why would I want my voice to change?" he asked, no to words spoken in the same register. "I like it the way it is!"

"It's just…part of life," Shawn shrugged, pouring some milk on his cereal. "It means you're becoming a man."

"A man?" Will repeated, his nose scrunching in distaste. "Then why do I sound like a girl?"