A Life Rescued
Part 5
Chapter 46 – The Survey
(Please read and review, it makes us better writers.)

Disclaimer: The world of Terabithia belongs to Katherine Paterson and her publishers.
I'm just playing around in it for a while. No profit was, or will be received from this story.

The survey in this chapter was adapted from
Alice in the Know by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor.

This chapter is rated MATURE for adult oriented dialog
And language, and scenes of a sexual nature.
Please do not read if you think you might be offended.

Within the first two months of ninth grade, Jesse Aarons had formulated a number of hypotheses about high school, and had good evidence to support all of them.

First was the fact that the class work was pathetically easy and the only way to get a real education would be to take all Advanced Placement courses. He shrewdly realized that his ignorance of this was due to his older sisters and their unending complaints about how difficult high school was. Jesse confirmed this with both Ellie and Brenda, but only after promising he would never reveal the deception to their mother and father.

The second fact dealt with the students who transitioned from middle school to high school. Over the course of the summer, nearly all had degenerated from reasonably tolerable tweens into some sort of uncivilized adolescent/adult hybrid. They lost their manners, what few they had, and skillfully demonstrated that griping about being ill-treated and over-worked was the most righteous activity ever invented.

Next was the role of student government at Lark Creek High. As freshmen class president, a role he still had difficulty believing he'd been railroaded into, let alone won, Jesse found he had nothing to do. But he was relieved to see that all the other class presidents were experiencing the same sense of futility. It did not bode well, however, that the four class leaders were not leading, he reasoned.

Finally, there was the student body in general, and the male half in particular.

With the exception of nice weather days when you could eat outside, Jesse, Leslie, and whichever friends sat with them at lunch were gaining new views into their fellow students' lives, mostly vulgar and tactless ones. Based on what they heard, Jesse, Tom, and Mikey concluded, one day before any of the girls arrived, that the only things nearly all males in high school talked about were breasts, football, and breasts - not always in that order. (Outside of the football season the dialogue of choice fluctuated between types of outercourse, where to have it, and various forms of self-gratification.)

"Well," Tom sputtered defensively when he saw disapproval on Jesse's face, "that is what guys talk about. I wonder what girls talk about?" he said with a smile and looking to Mikey, knowing Jesse would never say anything. Their friend was always talking to the twins in whispers, and with a red face.

"Breasts…" he said knowingly, looking at Tom.

"Too big or too small?"

He thought for a couple seconds. "Yes."

They laughed, even Jesse.

"Ok, what else?" Tom prodded.

"Birth control, their period, and...Guys' asses."

Jesse choked. "WHAT?!"

"Seriously, Jess," Mikey went on to explain impassionedly, "Lisa and Carol sit around and comment on which guys' asses look cute. You know, kind of like how we rate girls' tits."

Jesse did know about that, still, he buried if face in his hands for a couple seconds, groaned audibly, and wondered if his ass had been rated. "I don't want to know!" he warned, with splayed fingers and the palms of his hands held up: Mikey was obviously about to share precisely that information. Tom chuckled until they were surprised by the voices of their female friends.

"What have you three been talking about, Mr. President?" Makayla asked, as she, Leslie, and Barbara sat.

Flustered, hoping none of the previous conversation had been heard, Jesse mumbled vaguely that they had been discussing, "Um, just, um, stuff."

"'Um, stuff'? That sounds interesting."

Leslie and Barbara snickered; both knew 'stuff' was Jesse's go-to phrase when he didn't want to talk about what he had been talking about. Then his girlfriend leaned over and whispered, "Don't you want to know what I think of your ass?"

Jesse choked again.

Mercifully, the remainder of lunch passed quietly and most of the ninth graders left with a good fifteen minutes remaining before fifth period began. Makayla lingered behind, chatting with Leslie while the blonde teen ate her celery and peanut butter; Jesse's attention faded in and out, along with his higher mental functions, due to a lack of sleep the night before. When the fifth period bell rang, he barely noticed. Makayla left whistling, Hail to the Chief,

but Leslie turned, put an arm around his neck, and gave him an uncommonly passionate kiss that woke up at least some parts of his body. It was the only time he really liked celery: when he tasted it in Leslie's mouth.


November brought the start of the second quarter at LCHS, and Gym class changed to Health. And in high school, Health was co-ed. The teacher was named Danni Everest, an attractive, thirtyish woman who was known for her creative teaching techniques and popularity with students and faculty alike. Tom, Mikey, and Billy Eccles all agreed that they would be willing to take private instructions from her, a declaration that drew groans and thrown napkins from their female classmates.

Two periods were merged for Health, and for the first time ever, Jesse, Leslie, Mikey, Lisa, Carol, and Tom shared a class together, though some others in the room were not as pleased about the arrangement. The six friends sat together and tended to be distracting with their whispered comments and note-passing. Billy Eccles and Makayla were also in the class but had enough sense to remain out of earshot of their new friends.

Following the usual admonishments for quiet, and introductions from Mrs. Everest, the first class began.

"The first five weeks of this quarter, we will be studying common situations you experience in life, and how to deal with them. Some of this is lecture, but most will be a series of projects you will work on individually or in pairs. You will randomly select an assignment from a hat," she pointed at two old stage prop top hats, one for pairs and one for individuals. "Each has a real-life situation you need to work through, and then prepare a written and oral report to share with the class. When I call your name – and they will be alphabetical, please come up and get your assignment."

Jesse glanced back at Leslie and smiled: The A's and B's were together.

"Aarons and Burke, one of you come up." Leslie was already on her way and drew a folded sheet of paper from the hat for pairs. "What's the assignment, Ms. Burke?"

Leslie blushed a little before looking up to Jesse and the class. "You just graduated from high school and decided to get married against your parents' wishes. You have ten thousand dollars a rich uncle gave you to start your life..."

"That's enough, thank you. Every assignment has a situation or problem you need to work through. You have to stay within the parameters given on the assignment sheet. Ms. Burke and Mr. Aarons will have to get married, find an apartment, and maybe go on a honeymoon, all with a tight budget. Let's look at the next pair..."

The next pair was chosen; these two had to deal with taking care of an elderly grandparent.

Then two individuals were called, one was to plan her own funeral and write a will, the other had to arrange a move to another city on short notice and a shoestring budget.

Then Billy Eccles and Makayla Flynn were called and Jesse began to think Mrs. Everest knew more about the class dynamics and history than she had let on. Billy and Makayla had gone out briefly in middle school and broken up over the summer, but were still friends. Their assignment was to buy a car and insurance for both of them, and they each had a few points on their driving record.

The most exciting part of the class was when Mikey Sellers and Lisa Silliard were paired-up to prepare for an unexpected pregnancy. Mikey had been dating Lisa's twin, Carol, for about a year and most of the class knew it. Carol was then chosen to bail a friend out of jail. Twice. The obvious issue there would be that the second time would be much more difficult.

There were some complaints about assignments, but Mrs. Everest refused to allow trades, a particularly thoughtless rule, Carol Silliard repeatedly announced to anyone who listened, until Mrs. Everest overheard her and reminded everyone that, "You might never experience the situation you've chosen, but everyone here will have to deal with many of these things. Research the issue and be prepared to present a preliminary report to me the first week of December."

After class, Jesse and Leslie went separate ways but met again at lunch. Both found them self a little embarrassed by the assignment, but also very curious as to how the other felt. They tried to find a place away from their friends to talk, but it didn't work so they arranged to get together that evening.

At seven o'clock, Leslie was at her computer when Jesse rapped on her bedroom door. She had been expecting him and waved him in.

"Leave the door open, Jess, we don't want any trouble," she giggled. He did as was told and flopped down on her bed.

"Whatcha doing?"

"Finishing up emails from all my admirers," she laughed.

Jesse turned on his side to watch Leslie and found his face next to a bra and a green and white cardboard box. It took him a few seconds to figure out what the container held: Light Days. He discreetly set it on the floor and picked up the undergarment.

"Hey, what should I do with this, Les?"

Turning, Leslie smiled and held out her hand. "It's too small for me now…think May would like it?" she asked mischievously.

Jesse cringed as he handed her the bra. "Um, you can ask her."

Leslie tossed the item in the general direction of a clothes hamper and returned to the computer. "Just a couple more, Jess… Hmmm, this looks interesting. Here's an email from The Piper Polling Company of Pennsylvania," she explained. "It says, 'Click here to take a brief survey and receive a confidential analysis of your passion for life and love.'"

Jesse groaned. "Don't you have your email filtering turned on? Those things are a pile of crap."

"Party-pooper. Well I'm going to do it anyway. Maybe it will tell me why I'm so ignored by my boyfriend." She turned and stuck out her tongue.

"Ignored, huh? Tell you what. Let me hear the questions and your answers and I promise not to ignore you the rest of the evening."

Leslie considered the offer. "A week."

"Ok, the rest of the week."

"Deal! This should be interesting," Leslie said as she clicked on the BEGIN button.

The screen went blank for a moment before the instruction panel appeared. It contained the usual poll disclaimers ending with an admonition to answer truthfully if you want to receive an honest evaluation. Leslie read it all aloud to Jesse, ignoring his warning, "Hmmm," at the last bit of instruction. She clicked on NEXT and the first questions appeared asking for age, sex, and a couple other innocuous items.

When Leslie clicked NEXT again, the real questions began.

"Here's the first question: 'Do you have a boyfriend?' My options are: 'Yes, No,' and 'Working on it.' I said yes…thought you might need to hear that."

Jesse groaned, but got off the bed and pulled a chair up behind Leslie.

"Ok, question number 2: 'How often do you and your boyfriend kiss?' Ewww, scandalous! The options are: 'Seldom, Sometimes, Frequently,' and 'All the time.' Hmmm…What do you think, Jess?"

"I think it's all a waste of time, but…frequently is probably accurate. Agree?"

"Sure. Next, question 3: 'Have you ever gone…skinny-dipping with him?' Ahem. 'Yes, No,' and 'Might be fun.'

Leslie clicked an answer.

"Hey! You said you'd tell me your answers, Les!" Jesse protested, trying to look over her shoulder. When Leslie glanced behind herself, she saw him smiling.

"Not such a dumb poll after all, is it? I said, it might be fun."

Jesse continued to smile, especially seeing Leslie's neck turning pink. "What's the next one?" he asked eagerly.

"It says, 'Have you ever had a sexy dream about your boyfriend?' How do they know I have a boyfriend? This must be bogus!"

"Les, they know you have a boyfriend because you told them you have one. First question." Jesse chuckled to himself; Leslie almost never missed something like that.

Getting flustered, Les?

"Let's hear what the answers are."

"'Never. Now and then, Can't remember one,' and 'Can't forget them.'" Jesse burst out in laughter. "Ok, you take the survey next," Leslie snapped, but Jesse did even better.

"Sure, in fact, I'll take it with you…substituting the proper gender, of course."

Leslie seemed pleased with this and scrolled back to the top so Jesse could see the first few questions again.

"Um… One is yes, two is frequently, and three is might be fun. There. Feel better?" He kissed the top of Leslie's head and she nodded.

"So…? What's your answer for number four?"

Sighing, he said, "Can't forget them."

"Really?" Leslie exclaimed in surprise, but then recalled Jesse's tremendous gift of memory and gave him a suggestive smile that made the boy blush. "I'd have to say 'now and then' myself. Ok, five...'Have you ever been touched intimately? Yes' or 'No.' Does last June count?"

Jesse shrugged. "I guess...barely."

"Ok, that's a yes for me. How about you?"

"What?! You should know."

"Jesse, I haven't really touched you…Oh! You mean there? I don't think that counts, I just, you know, felt it on my leg."

"Ok, then no."

Right...maybe we can change that...

They looked at number six. Jesse coughed and Leslie's eyes opened wide. "Wow! Ok, forward… 'Have you ever undressed in front of your boyfriend? Yes' or 'No.' That's 'girlfriend' for you, Jess," she informed him.

Both said "No" at the same time, giggling, and wondering why there wasn't a "Not yet" option.

Jesse leaned over and rested his arms on Leslie's shoulders awaiting the next question.

"'Have you ever had sex? Yes, No, Can't remember.' Ugh, that last one's an unappealing thought. No for me and you."

"Wait," Jesse said, snickering.

"Why? Want to change your answer?" Leslie asked warningly.

"No, I wanted to do this." He leaned over and gave his girlfriend a kiss.

"Uh-huh, I bet you were going to make some chauvinistic joke, weren't you?"

"No…well, I was just wondering how they would describe what sex is…exactly."

Leslie grinned and did her Bill Clinton impersonation: "'I guess it depends on what your definition of is is.' Ok, Aarons, you got yourself out of that one, too. You're getting devious, you know that?"

"Me?"

"Yeah, you," Leslie giggled, poking him in the side. "Ok, what's the next one? 'Have you ever…' Oh my! Well, it did say passion for life and love. Here goes. 'Have you ever given your boyfriend head? Yes' or 'No.'" Leslie turned and looked at Jesse. "Isn't that when the girl gives the guy a…"

"Yes! Exactly."

Both blushed even more. Leslie picked up a notebook and fanned herself.

"Hey, how do you know about that sort of stuff?"

"Two words: Tom. Jacobs."

Leslie rolled her eyes. "Makes sense. I'll put down no for myself and assume you didn't take advantage of me when I was drugged-up." Jesse didn't say anything, but Leslie could feel the heat from his arms and face on her neck and head. "Whew! Ok, here's the next question; I think there's only one more after this," Leslie sensed Jesse stand up, but he kept his hands on her shoulders. "'How many times a week…' HOLY SHIT!"

A voice from down the stairs admonished the teen to control her language.

"Just read it, Les," Jesse told her, immensely curious about what could rattle her so.

Leslie did, as quickly as she could, without slurring the words and having to repeat it. "'How many times a week do you masturbate? Never, once, a few times, every day.'"

"Whose idea was this?" Jesse asked rhetorically. But there was something odd in his tone and Leslie turned around.

"Both of ours. Want to finish?"

Jesse swallowed hard and nodded. "As long as you're honest."

"You, too."

"I promise. What's your answer, Les?"

"You go first."

"No way – I went first last time."

Leslie pouted and turned back to the laptop. She clicked the third choice, c. Jesse noticed her neck was becoming crimson.

"Your turn," she said, almost inaudibly.

There was a very long pause, but Leslie didn't push him. Finally he told her.

"Um...I'm not sure, maybe between b and c."

"REALLY?!" Leslie almost shouted; Jesse shushed her. "I never would have thought! Jesse Aarons - especially with that Catholic background."

"I go to confession a lot," he noted sourly.

The funny thing was, Jesse realized, it had been much easier admitting something that personal to Leslie than to the priest. He wondered why.

Leslie turned and gave him a quizzical look. "Jess, I'm just curious…why did you say you weren't sure…how many times? I mean, you don't have to answer…sorry." She turned back to the computer.

"No, it's ok, Les. I…I just, um, started, um, did it the first time only a few months ago."

"Oh, I see…"

"Um… What about you?"

Leslie appeared shy and again turned back to Jesse, and her face was even darker red. "I guess…a couple years."

The room had become so quiet the fan on the laptop sounded loud.

"Does that make you an expert?" he quipped, trying to ease Leslie's embarrassment.

She giggled quietly. "A master masturbator?"

"Tom probably gets that title," Jesse laughed.

"I don't know, Jess. You'd be surprised at the number of girls who do it."

"Have…sex?"

"No! Masturbate…regularly."

"How would you know? Do you talk about it with each other?" a panicked Jesse asked, clearly horrified.

"Some do. I've never been that open, even with Gracie. You're the only person I, uh, ever told this to, though Mom and I have talked about it some. She thinks it's a good way to keep from getting too horny."

Jesse stared, open-mouthed. "Like fighting fire with fire? No wonder she had problems with the Catholic Church."

"Yes, that is one issue."

The two friends sat quietly, each lost in thought, but not really dwelling on their most recent topic; rather, how they felt about sharing personal beliefs. And both knew this had been another step in building a loving relationship. After a few minutes, they looked at each other, held hands, and gave what could best be described a content and affectionate smile. Then Leslie sighed. "Thank you, Jess. I love you."

"Me, too. But, um, maybe we should finish this and get back to work?"

"Yeah, here's the last question: 'Which one of these would you...' Oh, Jeez! 'Which of these would you find most interesting? Group sex, Anal sex, Oral sex, Sex with a dog.' I think I'm going to be sick... and I'm crossing out b and d. You go first this time, Jess."

"I can't," Jesse pleaded.

"Why not?"

"You crossed out both my choices!"

"Ahhh!" Leslie squealed, flapping her hands, then jumping up and turning to see Jesse laughing. "I hate you, Aarons! That is SO, SO NASTY! What's your real answer?" she demanded.

Hmm, Les…and Grace...and Kayla...and the twins? "Either a or c. c, I guess; yeah, c."

Glad to hear that, Leslie thought, not really considering what the answer was, only what it was not. Neither did she realize how close the choice between a and c was for him.

"We're agreed on that one, thank God; c would be my choice, too, assuming prior experience with normal sex. I wonder why there wasn't a choice for no sex," she giggled, and rambled on as she did when nervous. "I guess no one would find that interesting. Ok, it says 'click here' to submit and find out what my passion for life and love is. I'm so excited," she said with some degree of false excitement. "Ok…."

Just then, Leslie's cell phone rang: She dashed to her nightstand to retrieve it.

"It's Grace or Tom," she said, looking at the caller ID. "Hello? Hi Gracie, what's up?... Uh, yes I did…how'd you know that?...Yes...no, not yet, why?"

Jesse, reviewing the questions and answers to the survey, heard a loud gasp and looked around to see Leslie's face lose nearly all its color. She stuttered through a quick goodbye and turned.

"Jess! Don't – touch – the computer. Tom and a bunch of others got the same email. When they hit submit, their answers were sent out to everyone on the school emergency contact distribution list." Leslie flopped back on her bed. "Oh. My. God. I am going to kill the person who started this. I don't mind sharing that with you, but… And how do we get rid of it?" she cried in a panic, pointing an accusing finger at the offending machine. "Can I just shut down the computer?"

Jesse turned his attention to the laptop. "Let me check." After a minute, he found that selecting the same answer twice appeared to erase the selection. Next, he disconnected the Ethernet cable and closed the internet browser. To be completely safe, he restarted the browser and cleared the cache.

"That should do it…I hope. Just be sure to delete that email and mark the sender as Junk so you won't get it again."

Leslie stood and hugged Jesse, thanking him, then returned to her computer to do as he said. But when she maximized her email application, they both saw that her inbox was flooded with eighty-seven new messages, most giving the survey results of a different student at the school, the last few were warnings not to take the survey. They looked at each other. "Should we peek?" Leslie asked impishly, arching her eyebrows.

Jesse smiled back. "Maybe one or two. See any email addresses you recognize? But don't pick Tom's, we can probably guess his answers."

Both adolescents dissolved into a fit of laughter.

"That's Mikey's, maybe...no, look here, that's Fulcher's. I wonder what the 'n' is for."

"Nitwit, nincompoop, numbskull, nasty, nuts..."

Laughing, Leslie agreed. "Want to look?"

"Sure, it might be good for blackmail."

Leslie opened the email and they scanned the answers.

"That was a waste, he doesn't even jerk-off," Jesse complained.

Leslie slapped his arm playfully and told him not to be crude. "Besides, he only says he doesn't; but yeah, it was a waste. Do you see one you want to look at? Ohmygosh! Kayla! That's her email address. How about...?"

"No. I might have trouble looking at her if she admitted to…to something nasty."

Snorting out a laugh, Leslie looked further. "Ok...how about…I think this one's Lindsey Bailey, that bitchy girl who was yelling at Lisa the other day."

"Sure."

Opening the response, they found it only slightly more interesting.

"Hey, she's been skinny-dipping. Who's she going out with? Lucky guy, I'm jealous!" Again, the words flowed effortlessly and Jesse hardly realized what he'd said.

"Jess, I'm afraid it's gotten too cold for us to do that until next year," Leslie replied matter-of-factly. Not sure if she was serious, Jesse remained silent. Eventually she asked, "Want to look at some more?"

For a moment he considered it, but shook his head. "No, I don't reckon we should." He saw Leslie's face fall for a second, but then she nodded in agreement.

"You're right."

As she started deleting the messages, Jesse came up from behind again and wrapped his arms around her neck, resting his cheek on her head. "We've never really shared things like this before: you know, deep stuff – personal stuff."

Leslie leaned to the side so Jesse's head would slip next to hers, turned, and kissed his cheek. Then she pulled his arms from around her neck and clamped them to her chest, humming a single, long, content note.

"No, we don't. It was certainly different. I feel...I guess I've always felt I could tell you anything."

"Me, too," he said, almost in a whisper into her ear. "I'm glad."

Against his arms, Jesse could feel that Leslie was wearing nothing under her t-shirt. Her breasts, pressed against his forearms, were soft and foreign, and the experience set his mind awhirl, leaving him a bit dizzy, breathless, and annoyingly, uncontrollably aroused – for the third or forth time that evening. They stayed in that position for a long minute, until Mrs. Burke could be heard bringing Jimmy up for a bath.

"Les?" Jesse whispered urgently, warningly.

Sighing, Leslie said, "I know, I know," and slowly removed the arms around her. Jesse was certain she was intentionally doing it slowly, not that he was complaining. But as his palms ran over her breasts and the distinct texture of two hard nipples, he had to concentrate on NOT closing his hands around them: It was the hardest thing he had ever not done. Leslie made an unintelligible sound just then, and he was…free; however, he needed to immediately return to Leslie's bed with the notebook in his lap in case Mrs. Burke came in the room.

"How's the project going you two?" Judy called from the hallway.

Leslie replied casually, "Great, we've learned a bunch of interesting things." Jesse's mouth dropped open in disbelief and he gave Leslie a horrified look. She just smiled back. "We're about finished for tonight. Jess is hungry, so I'm going to set him loose in the kitchen."

"Ok, see you later, Jess."

"Night, Mrs. Burke, and thank you." He flagged Leslie to give him another minute to calm his body, then they left. On the way out, he stuck his head in the bathroom. "Bye, Jimmy."

Still unable to pronounce some consonants, the boy called out "Ba, ba, Jeff," and went back to playing in the slowly filling tub.

When they were down the steps, Leslie led Jesse to the front hall, not the kitchen.

"What are...?"

"Shush. Kiss me," Leslie instructed, but didn't wait for her boyfriend to start. Throwing herself at him, Jesse felt like he was being devoured, and it was pure bliss. A couple minutes later and he found himself pinning Leslie tightly against the wall and his hands running up and down her sides. Now and then, he felt the softer flesh at the edge of her breasts brush past his thumbs as her shirt was slowly migrating upward. Leslie seemed to gasp with each of these touches, but did nothing to stop him, and he could tell by her enthusiasm that she wished her parents were not home. Yet Jesse did not feel comfortable, though sorely tempted, to take advantage of the situation and Leslie's easily accessible breasts.

Another minute passed, and then, unlike in June, Jesse abruptly pushed himself back a few inches. His reasons now were about the same as Leslie's then. Arms around his neck, and pulling herself up to his ear, she whispered, "You right, Jess, you should leave now."

"What? Why?" he asked automatically, though he knew the answer. And besides that, he had just become aware of how obvious his erection must be to his partner. He tried to inconspicuously move the notebook to cover himself, but Leslie was pressed too close to him again.

Then what she said into his ear caused Jesse to forget his embarrassment, and forget to breathe. When he did at last, he told her, "I understand." And did. There was something in Leslie's face that he'd never seen before. It was both alluring and frightening; caged and wild. He gave her a quick kiss and left while he had the strength and she had the willpower.

The walk to his house was slow, quiet, and thoughtful. He also had to stop halfway, cursing his male anatomy, to let himself deflate – again! A task which was made more difficult by some of the things they had spoken about and were flitting in and out of his imagination.

Recalling her honesty that night, Jesse realized that whenever a question about Leslie Burke was answered, two more popped up. And this evening, he again comprehended, had been an important barrier they had breeched; not from the sensory input of his lips, hands, and arms, but because of what they had shared. He was both content and astonished with his openness, and felt closer to Leslie Burke than he ever had before. This time, however, the closeness was deeper than the usual comfort and companionship he experienced when together with his best friend.

He also knew that he was correct to stop their kissing and touching, and she was correct to send him away: During the last minutes in the Burke's front hallway, Armageddon could have been exploding around them and he would not have noticed.


When he reached his house, Jesse saw Ellie sitting on the porch swing wrapped in a blanket. She immediately waved at him as he ran up to sit with her, accepting a hug. But she didn't let go.

"Something wrong, Ell? Is Toby ok?"

"Yeah, we're ok, I just needed to see you."

The statement shouldn't have shocked Jesse, this was the second time she had said that to him recently. But while he was flattered, he couldn't help wonder why the brother whom she had tormented for thirteen years was now her second best friend. Then again, he realized, that might be the answer. He moved a little closer and held her tighter. "Sure, Ell. Any time."

A few seconds later, Ellie started to laugh. "Jess?"

"…Yeah?"

"I'm pretty liberal, but watch your hands; I'm your sister, not Leslie." Ellie twisted away and Jesse felt his hand pulled out of danger, slipping away from the warmth between Ellie's chest and her left breast. He had thought his hand under her arm.

"Oh shit...sorry, sorry, sorry!" he squeaked, face instantly darkening. In sliding away, he got a splinter in his butt.

Ellie laughed all the harder as Jesse fumbled to pull the sliver of wood out, but quickly sobered up, explaining her presence. "It's alright, Jess, don't worry… Uh, Toby's last email a few days ago said they would be moving into Iran soon. Maybe today..." She trailed off and Jesse could see tears coming down her cheeks. "Oh, Jess…I'm so scared!" she sobbed.

He cautiously moved closer and put his arm around her shoulder this time. After a while, she calmed down and Jesse started talking again.

"Did Dad bring you home?"

"No, I have to be back early tomorrow for class so I borrowed Amy's car."

Amy, Jesse knew, was a friend Ellie had made and who lived in Baxley.

"Dad chewed me out for coming home. 'Gas is too expensive. Blah, blah, blah.' As if I didn't know that! Who paid for it? I did."

"Ell, if you need money, please let me know, I do have some to spare..."

"No, Jess, but thank you. It's not like I do this every week."

"I know. Dad can still be a butt-head at times, can't he?"

Ellie nodded. "At least it's better now. A lot better. Can you imagine what he'd be like if he still had that other job?" Ellie gave a little shiver and took a few deep breaths to calm down more. "So...what were you and Leslie doing? When you got here your face was beet-red." She elbowed him gently, hoping an interesting story from her brother would take her mind off her husband. She got one, too.

Jesse motioned for his sister to follow him and they retreated to his room. When the door shut, he wasn't sure why or how, but the words just spilled out. "She kinda said we were about to have sex…"

With a disbelieving look on her face, Ellie tried to clarify "She offered you sex? Did you turn her down?"

"No, not exactly offered, I guess, she, um, kinda threatened it." He explained more clearly how both had felt out of control and thought it best that he go home.

"You two have a very interesting relationship," Ellie said dryly as she sat on the end of her brother's bed. "What caused all this? Were you two making out?"

Jesse explained about the survey, including a brief, red-faced recap of the last two questions.

Ellie did a double take. "Excuse me? Oral sex and beating-off? Were you talking about them or practicing?"

"Just talking...really."

"That makes sense," Ellie replied after a brief pause. "Jess, some people really get turned-on by talking about that stuff. I'm sure that's what happened with Les." A devilish smile passed over her face and she unconsciously looked in the direction of the Burke's house. "I bet she's finding some relief right now."

"Ell! Cut it out."

"Why? Don't you think about these things, Jess? And don't give me that I'm only fourteen look again. Don't you feel...urges when you're with Les?"

"Yeah, of course," he answered dolefully, having not forgotten the recent scene in the Burke's foyer.

"Good, then there's some hope for you." Both paused and considered the other; Ellie saw she had gone a bit too far. "I'm sorry, Jess. Your...convictions are admirable. I just don't want to see you lose Leslie because you're afraid to touch her boobs."

Jesse gave a little snort of laughter. "I don't think that's going to be a problem."

"Really?! You tried to feel her up?" Ellie asked eagerly, suddenly more impressed with her brother.

"No...Well, yes. That happened months ago."

At that moment, Ellie was paging through one of Jesse's sketchpads and happened upon his drawing of Grace Jacobs' breast. It took the boy a lot of coaxing to admit whose it was. When he finally disclosed the owner's identity, Ellie burst out laughing again.

"You still have the hots for her, Jess? Or just a little action going on the side?"

Jesse was horrified. "NO! I just...it was one...an accident, I swear!"

Ellie nodded disbelievingly and watched her brother's face go scarlet.

"Then why do you have this drawing? And I must admit, it's very realistic, and looks like you put a lot of effort into it."

"Cut it out, Ell!" Jesse grabbed the pad back, slipping it under his bed covers. But she laughed all the harder.

"Planning on using that later, little bro?"

There must have been a noticeable degree of guilt on Jesse's face, for Ellie winked again and muttered something that sounded like, "Have fun."

Jesse shrugged, conceding the point and moving on. "Anyway, then there was the incident with Grace, and now I can't get her – Leslie's - boobs out of my head. Funny thing is, she told me once she didn't think they were her best asset."

Ellie looked confused for a moment and then laughed. "Jess, take my word for it, she's got a fine rack. Not large, but..."

"How would you know?" he nearly shouted as a twinge of jealousy shot through him.

"The Keane's. We changed together a couple times." A scowl came across her face, then a look of horror. "I hope that bastard didn't have any cameras in that room, too."

"Then why would she say something like that?" Jesse asked, trying to get the conversation back to Leslie's statement.

"Maybe she's not a breast woman." Seeing Jesse's confusion at the term, Ellie explained further. "Women think some parts of their body are prettier or more alluring than others. And Les is a very pretty girl, in many ways. She might think her hair or legs are her best physical asset. So there's something for you to discover about her: what she believes is her best physical attribute."

"Hmm, ok...maybe." But he wasn't so sure, based on the reaction his hands evoked earlier that evening.

"You know, Jess, all this talk about sex has made me horny. I think I'll go back to my room..."

"Ellie!"

"...think about Toby and..."

"Stop it!"

Opening the bedroom door with a backwards glance and teasing smile, she gave her brother a wave. Jesse jumped up and followed Ellie to her room, pushing his way in when she tried to close the door on him.

"What's this?" she said in feigned irritation, barely containing her amusement. "You want to watch or something?"

"You're disgusting sometimes, Ellie. I have another question."

"Sit," Ellie instructed, and Jesse did. "Ask away."

Jesse couldn't help but feel he was intruding. Was she really going to…? Just get to the point, Jess.

"Ellie, is…s-sex good…I mean fun…all the time?"

Again, the older sister found herself unable to answer her brother's question, at first, due to shock. She sat and thought for a minute.

"All the time? Hmm, I've never really thought about it, Jess…and it's not a yes or no question, I think. Maybe…it could be considered good all the time for one of the partners. Of course, the goal is to make it good for both, but sometimes that doesn't happen."

Ellie scooted over to Jesse and put her arm around his shoulder. "Look, little bro, making sex good or fun is all about sharing and giving and learning how to be intimate with someone. It's more than just a bodily function…"

"I kinda guessed that: Not exactly on the same level as taking a dump, is it?"

Ellie pushed Jesse off her bed and he landed heavily on the floor. "Don't you get disgusting. It might be fun to talk to your guy-friends that way, but it can turn a girl off real quick!"

"Ok, ok. Sorry."

"Oh…get up. Now listen to me. If I've learned anything, it's that you can't rush love. So if it's love you're after with Leslie Burke, find some other outlet for your urges until both of you are ready. And both of you feeling hot is not a sign that you're ready.

Before speaking, Jesse considered all Ellie had said. She's changed a lot more than I thought. "How did you get to be so smart?" he asked, more as an expression of admiration than a show of surprise.

"From being stupid for so long, that's how. Now get out, I have something I want to do," she said, smiling and winking. But not a minute later, Jesse heard his mother talking to Ellie as they walked down the stairs.


Makayla Flynn was sitting at their regular lunch table when Jesse and Tom arrived the following day. Leslie was eating with the drama department, Barb was also missing from lunch, eating with the yearbook committee, and the twins and Mikey were in the hallway arguing about the Health assignment. Being identical twins, Carol argued, she wanted to switch places with her sister so she and Mikey could be together.

Lisa refused. "We're not identical, we're mirror," she reminded her sister. "If Mrs. Everest sees which hand we're writing with we'll probably fail the assignment."

Carol became angrier than ever and walked off in a huff. Mikey followed, but Lisa sat in the hallway sulking through the period.

Back in the lunchroom, and for the first time all year, an unwelcome face appeared behind Jesse, one Tom was loathe to point out.

"Manning." It was all he needed to say.

Jesse glanced back and saw his other nemesis sitting with Gary Fulcher along with a third vaguely familiar face, an upper classman, but one he could not place. Ricky Manning turned just then and saw Jesse watching. The face was blank, but then showed a slight smile. Jesse hoped Manning had learned his lesson and would discontinue tormenting him and his friends. That illusion lasted all of two seconds; Manning brought his hands up to his face making like he was holding an invisible camera, snapping pictures. Simultaneously, Jesse and Tom flipped him off.

"I can't believe he got out of juvie so soon, bloody wanker."

Makayla coughed, blushed, and then asked, "What was that about?"

"Just an old friend," laughed Tom. Jesse said nothing, which only sparked the girl's interest more, but she waited to see if Tom, who was a fast eater, would leave and give her a chance to ask Jesse for details.

And that was exactly what happened. Ten minutes later, Jesse was going through his calendar and marking off some assignment due dates, but when asked, stopped to give a more complete explanation of the events from the previous year. With each detail, Makayla's eyes grew wider and her face darker, though he omitted many of the details which could lead her to the Keane family's situation.

"That's horrible, Jess. I'm glad Tom and Leslie were ok."

Jesse smiled and went back to entering the assignments. A minute later Makayla interrupted him again.

"Jess, would you check your calendar, please? Do you have anything scheduled for January 20? Uh, during the evening?"

"Ok…January 20th…nope, why?"

"Would you like go to the Sadie Hawkins dance with me?" she asked brightly. And hopefully.

Jesse looked up slowly. "Um…Kayla…you know Les and I are going out, don't you?" He knew full well she knew.

"Yes…but are you…serious?"

"Yes…Very."

"Ok, just thought I'd try." She sighed and started to collect her things.

Jesse looked at her again. "Thank you for asking, Kayla," he said sincerely. "If…well, thanks."

Makayla gave him a stern look. "That's not fair, Jess. 'If' what?"

How do I always do this to myself?

"If things were different I would have accepted, that's all. Hey! Why don't you ask Tom? I know he'd go with you!"

Makayla gave him a skeptical look. "Thanks, but I'd plan on remaining a virgin past ninth grade."

"Oh…yeah, ok, um…good idea," Jesse sputtered. He wanted to say Tom's reputation was badly overinflated, but he was not as certain as he used to be.

With that, Makayla rose, smiled at her new friend, and left the cafeteria. Jesse didn't relax until she was gone and then turned back to finish with his calendar. He hardly had a chance to pick up his pencil, however, when someone sat heavily on the bench next to him. On the other side of the table, Manning and Fulcher stood, silent, threatening.

"How's life, Aarons? Looking for a new girlfriend?"

Jesse smiled in spite of his fear. "I'm great, thanks for asking, Manning. How are the new teeth?"

Neither boy moved, but both smiled. "Like you to meet a friend of ours, Aarons," Fulcher said, speaking for the first time. "This is Steve: Steve Hoager. He's a senior, plays middle linebacker for the football team."

Jesse looked at the person next to him and made a quick appraisal. Six three, about two-twenty… He also saw something none of the other three had noticed and made a snap decision. Picking up his calendar and backpack, Jesse stood, looked at Fulcher and Manning, and calmly and contemptuously said, "So is this it now? You two have all the brains had he has all the muscle? I'm shaking in my shoes."

The last jab, Jesse knew, was not wise, but he couldn't resist. And besides, he had something the other three did not know about. The older Hoager jumped up, nearly knocking Jesse over simply by his size, but grabbed the front of his sweatshirt jacket with two large hands, ostensibly to provide some intentional bumps of his own.

"Mr. Hoager, is there a problem here?" a voice called out. An adult voice. Jesse had seen one of the infrequent lunchroom monitors strolling in their direction and taken the opportunity to use his presence as a shield.

"Nah, just keeping Aarons here from falling." Hoager opened his hands and Jesse nearly stumbled again, not realizing that the senior had picked him up enough that he was on his toes.

"That's nice of you Mr. Hoager. If you and your…friends are done eating, then get out of the hall. You know the rules. I'm sure you wouldn't want to earn a detention and not be able to play this Friday, would you? Particularly with that scout from Penn State coming to the game."

Neither Hoager, Fulcher, nor Manning said a word, but turned, retrieved their things from the table, and walked out of the room. Jesse was straightening up his shirt when he caught the adult's eyes. They held a perfectly clear message: You were lucky this time, kid, I might not be here the next.


"So Kayla's after you now?" Leslie asked as she looped her arm through Jesse's between classes, but he just snorted in response. "You know, Jess, you have to go to the dance with her, she asked you first. That's the rules of Sadie Hawkins."

"Oh, please, Les! And why do they have the stupid thing in January? I thought Sadie Hawkins day was this month sometime."

"It conflicted with that big annual fundraiser, I heard. So, what are you going to do?"

"About what?"

"Kayla! You have to go with her, you know."

"No way!" Jesse stated, stopping and pulling Leslie out of the throngs of students cramming the hallway. "Why don't you ask me?"

"Doesn't matter; she asked first."

"Then I won't go…and why are you so set on me going with her?" he asked, becoming irritated.

"Oh, don't get mad, I'm just teasing you," Leslie finally admitted, giving Jesse a quick kiss. "We have to go; did you tell her to ask Tom?"

Jesse explained Makayla's comment about that possibility. Leslie cringed.

"Ok, I'll think of something…" They started out for class again through the noticeably thinner crowd of students. There was only one minute before the next bell.

"Les, there're a hundred other guy in ninth grade, she can probably find someone on her own."

"No, she's too shy. Billy told me she'll only do things with people she knows."

"Well, I don't want another Grace Jacobs, so please don't ask her to go with us. See you later." And with a short wave, Jesse headed to biology while Leslie frowned and turned into her AP English classroom, having forgotten to ask her boyfriend to the dance.


While fall reached its peak in Lark Creek, Jesse and Leslie's Health project began to take shape. Without the distraction of another poll appearing on her computer, Jesse would lay on the bed while Leslie typed ideas they had thought up. After a couple brainstorming sessions, these ideas were broken into a number of general headings and sub-headings.

"What do we have now?" Jesse asked for the twentieth time.

"One: Wedding; Two: Reception; Three: Honeymoon," Leslie turned and batted her eyes dramatically. "Four: Apartment selection; Five: Furnishings; and Six: Miscellaneous. Let me print it out for you."

Then began the process of prioritizing each activity, in case they ran out of money before finishing.

"Wedding first, you reckon?" Jesse asked.

"No, Jess, we need to find a place to live first."

"Ok. How about a third-floor, three-roomer overlooking the valley?"

"Budget, Jess! Hang on, let me check apartment prices around here." Leslie spent the next few minutes grumbling, but eventually found a couple possible places. "This one is smaller, and doesn't have a view, but it's in our price range. We'll have to pay 1,200 up-front for security and utility fees it says."

"How much smaller is it?"

"One bedroom. I can't believe how expensive this is!"

Jesse grumbled. "Ok, bookmark it. If we have more money when we're done with the other things maybe we can upgrade." But he doubted his words. "Wedding?"

"Yes!" Leslie cried, a little overenthusiastically. "Sorry. Under Wedding, we have: invitations, gown, tux rental, flowers, music, limo, rehearsal dinner, and fees. I looked around and got a price range on gowns that looked pretty; they run from 350 to 6,000. Maybe we should budget...500?"

Jesse felt awful when he saw the look on Leslie's face, but they had already spent 1,700 of their 10,000. "Ok, hopefully we can do more."

By the time they were finished with the wedding and reception, nearly 8,000 had been spent. Both adolescents were aghast, and more than a little down. Nearly every item they had chosen was at the lower end of the price range, including a DJ who would play for practically nothing to get his business going and renting a tent for an outdoor reception. This left just over 2,000 for their apartment furnishings and a honeymoon.

Leslie flopped onto the bed next to Jesse and groaned. "We could elope, Jess. It would save a ton of money."

"Yeah, I thought of that, too, but I want you to have a nice wedding. I know how much it means to you."

Repositioning herself, Leslie kissed Jesse long and deeply. She knew it was only a school project, but she felt they were both taking the decisions seriously, as if they were planning for a real event. A jolt of something hot and stimulating coursed through her body at this notion, and, having just broken away from her boyfriend's lips, immediately returned until they were again interrupted by the approach of an adult. Leslie quickly returned to the desk, thankful for a bed that didn't creak, and Jesse flipped onto his stomach and wiped off his mouth.

"Any ideas where Jess and I could go for an inexpensive honeymoon, Mom?" Leslie called into the hallway as Jesse groaned and shook his head. But it was her father who answered.

"Any place that doesn't require driving or flying will be cheep. Why don't you go backpacking?"

"Honeymooning at a KOA? Yeah, we'll think about that. Thanks, Dad." Leslie glanced back to her bed and did a gag-me motion with her finger. Jesse was already trying not to laugh aloud.

The reality of life, however, ended up making a weekend trip to the Roanoke KOA a distinct possibility as they spent most of their remaining funds on furnishings for the apartment.

"Camping might be fun," Leslie said wistfully, "Though more privacy is usually what newlyweds want, I've heard. Have you ever been camping?"

"Just a couple times when I was about six or seven and we went to Smith Mountain Lake."

"We should go sometime…maybe with Tom and Grace before they leave."

Jesse gave Leslie and incredulous look. "You think our parents would let us go away overnight, Les?"

"No, I guess not, I didn't think of that. So much for my great plan…But it is odd, Jess: For years they've let us hike into the mountains by ourselves. Didn't they think something could be going on then?"

Damn! Why didn't I think of that, either!

"Must be because it's during the day. We all know nothing happens during the day," Jesse said sarcastically.

"Anyway, it looks like we have a choice between, one: no honeymoon, two: no apartment furnishings, or three: elope. I mean, Jess, we can't cut back any more on the wedding without asking the guests to pay their own way." Frustrated, Leslie sighed and flopped back down on the bed next to Jesse.

"You run out of money?" Judy Burke's voice startled them just as Jesse was turning to kiss Leslie.

"Pretty much. Everything is so expensive!"

"Welcome to the real world. You could elope," Judy suggested.

"You'd want us to?"

"We're estranged, remember? You and Jess aren't talking to us, so our opinion should have little bearing on your choices."

"That's true, Mrs. Burke, but it still doesn't get us more money."

"If you elope, you would…"

"But I want Les to have a nice wedding! Running off to the county judge is hardly something to remember."

Leslie took his hand. "Jess, we could postpone the party and have a simple civil ceremony until we earned more money. It's you I want, not a fancy wedding."

The kids continued to discuss their options, but Judy Burke stood, stunned by her daughter's last comment.

Had she meant it to come out so honestly? And Jesse didn't flinch… No, she's just getting into the spirit of the project.

Watching on, she was not surprised to see how lovingly they each considered the other's feelings, as if they were planning…. Of course, little was resolved with such accommodating behavior, and Jesse went home later grumbling about having only two weeks remaining for the project. When Leslie returned to her room after seeing Jesse to the door, her mother was waiting.

"Les, I would rather you didn't…" Then she stopped, aborting the planned statement that would prevent Jesse from being in the room with her, and on her bed with her. "I just want you to know your father and I can help with this project, if you need it. We might have some ideas."

"Ok, Mom. Thanks."

In bed that evening, Judy brought up what she had seen and heard in their daughter's room. Bill nodded, actually listening to his wife and not typing.

"They're cute together," was his guarded response.

"Yeah, like two decked-out trolley cars on a collision course. Bill, I feel helpless! You didn't see Les the other night after Jess went home."

"What're you talking about?"

"She had that look."

"Huh? Which one? The fuck me now, Jess look you've been warning me about?" Judy nodded. Bill sighed. "Have you talked to Mary?"

"Not yet, but would you talk to Jack…please? I can't think of anything else to say to Leslie."

Sighing again, Bill nodded. "We're meeting with the lawyers Friday about the land, I'll take him out for a beer afterwards."

"Thank you, love."

"And why don't you try giving Les an incentive? Hint at the spring trip."

Judy thought about this for a moment. "Ok, that might work. But we both know how hard it is to fight the urges at their age."

"We can't lock them up, Jude." Looking at the clock, Bill yawned. "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty good this time. Have you checked the well water recently?" Judy asked seriously. She had lost their last child through a miscarriage brought on by contaminated well water.

"Every week. How do you think Les will take the news?"

"Probably a lot better than me finding out I'm going to be a grandmother."

"Uh, yeah…"


Judy, and the passage of time, had finally reconciled the differences she had with her sister, Joan, and the Burke's visited Arlington for Thanksgiving, and for the first time since their-falling out so many months before. Leslie was happy to see her aunt again and share with her some of the advances she and Jesse had made in their friendship. But Joan repeatedly forced a change of topics on her niece to prevent another family fight. Leslie understood, but still brought up a few things that Joan begrudgingly answered or opined over.

Back in Lark Creek, at dinner the Saturday of Thanksgiving weekend, Leslie was resolved to speak with her parents about the gradual but definite changing level of intimacy with her boyfriend. She didn't feel confrontational, but was interested in hearing what her parents considered an appropriate next step. The talk with her mother five months earlier, following Jesse's abbreviated attempt to touch her breasts, and the new limits Leslie had had imposed upon her, already felt out-of-date. (And particularly in light of what had occurred the night she and Jesse had taken the survey.) Holding hands, French kissing, and, as her mother had put it, "Fully-clothed, above-the-waist, non-lingering, light petting," seemed so last-week.

It was time to renegotiate.

"Mom, Dad, ahem," Leslie started. But suddenly feeling far less brave than she had ten seconds earlier, she looked down. Clearing her throat again, she saw Jimmy watching her. He had a look on his face that said, I know you, Les, you're about to say something that will freak-out Mom and Dad. And he was correct.

"I was wondering...since I'm fifteen now, how much more can Jess and I do together?"

Bill continued eating, thinking Leslie wanted to know how much later they could stay out at night. Since his talk with Jack Aarons, the kids had seemed less…explosive, sexually. But Judy was more on the same wavelength as their daughter. "Define 'do,' Les."

"More intimate things, like touching and..."

"Sex?" Judy interrupted, setting her fork down and trying not to show her frustration.

"Well, not intercourse, I'm not ready for that." Leslie believed her clarification sufficient; however, it did little to assuage Judy's anxiety.

"That's...smart, Les. Honey, let's talk about this in private...And didn't we have this conversation last June?"

"Yes, we did, but things have changed...a little," she hurriedly added. "Jesse and I still have to work out the details, so I want your input first."

Judy cringed inwardly: 'Work out the details'? Never heard it called that before. At least she's being honest.

Bill, who was just now becoming fully aware of what the conversation was about, actually felt relieved that the kids would talk things through and not just plunge into bed together.

"Les, uh, are you talking about...what are you talking about...exactly?" her father asked, but her mother didn't give her a chance to reply.

"I know you feel you deserve more latitude because of what happened with your father and I, but that's not a good reason to jump in the sack with Jess."

"No, it's not that, Mom. I'm just...we're just curious. And we do love each other."

"Of that I have no doubt, sweetheart. But are you sure you're ready for this? Jesse's not even fifteen."

Leslie shrugged. "Like I said, we're not planning to have intercourse."

Bill blinked rapidly, unsure of what to say.

"Les, what is it you want from me...from your father and me? Permission for Jess to...touch you? Or are you looking for opinion and rationale? I play Devil's Advocate pretty well. We already set up limits for both of you; have things changed that much?"

"Yes, I think so, Mom. And I need more information...details, about why my body does things and what it's telling me. Like when I think about Jesse sometimes and..."

"Leslie! Ok, we'll talk about this after dinner," Judy stated decisively, ending the discussion but not the dread building up in her chest. At times like this, Judy wondered why they had taught their daughter to be so open and forthcoming. When she looked to her husband, Judy saw he was regarding their son and how he would have a similar conversation with him in ten years or so.

Leaving the teen to clean up after the meal was over, Judy took Jimmy and walked over to the Aarons' house to speak with Mary, but she stopped half way there.

"Maybe I should find out what Les has in mind first, eh Jimmy?"

The toddler looked up at his mother, not having the foggiest notion of what she was talking about.


"Alright, Les, what's on your mind?" Judy asked a few hours later. Jimmy was in bed and Bill in their room writing. Leslie was lying on her bed, and Judy sat with her back to the laptop, straddling the chair.

"Did you talk to Mrs. Aarons already?" asked Leslie grumpily.

"No, I did not. I thought about it, but wanted to hear what you had to say first."

"I love Jess." Leslie declared the moment her mother finished. Her face had instantly gone from sulky to delighted.

Judy waited for more, but it was not forthcoming. "Yes, you said that. And I believe you. What precisely do you think that entitles you and Jess doing together?"

Without blinking, Leslie dramatically wrapped her arms around her body and replied, "I want to feel Jess's hands on my skin. Sometimes...when he brushes against my breasts...well, it's...wonderful. I'd like to feel his hands on my whole body, not 'Fully-clothed, above-the-waist, non-lingering, light petting'."

"I'm glad to hear you remembered that much," Judy said sarcastically. "Have you two gone beyond that?"

"No, not yet. But Mom, it's going to happen, I can feel it," Leslie stated earnestly.

"What else?" Judy asked.

"I just want…more."

There was a long pause before Judy spoke again. "Leslie, you forgot something very important."

"What? What?" she demanded impatiently.

Judy felt like screaming. "It's who, not what. I can see you want more, how about Jess?"

How many times do I have to say this to her?

Leslie was shocked. She tried to reply, but was not so self-absorbed to realize her error. All that came out was a quiet, "Oh."

"There's an old saying, sweetheart, 'If you aren't sure whether you are both ready for intimacy, then you're not ready.' Are you both ready?"

"I – I don't know," Leslie replied honestly. "I thought so, but maybe not." She recalled how it was Jesse who had stopped himself from fondling her that night, even when she had made her breasts so accessible. She had wanted it, she had ached for it, but he had held back: he wasn't ready.

"Dear, you've wanted Jesse Aarons for years: socially, emotionally, and physically. But love isn't what your father and I did, and you know that. I have little doubt that you two will get there. But do it together, please. There isn't a rush."

How many times do I have to say this to her?

Leslie flopped back down on her bed and covered her face; a mixture of emotions that almost felt crippling assaulted the fifteen year old. She knew what her mother meant, she knew exactly. And she also understood that making it there 'together' was more than a reference to dating the boy she loved, but also to the social, emotional, physical...and spiritual bond they were building. The whole package. Together.

Judy watched her daughter for a few minutes, having a pretty good idea of what was going on in her head. "Les, would you like an incentive?"

"For - For what? Not having sex with Jess?" Leslie now felt guilty even saying it.

"No, for keeping the same limits we spoke about in June, at least until Jess turns fifteen." Then she smiled. "Well, maybe we can relax it a little bit...but just a little."

Leslie sat up and commented, smiling slyly, "It must be a pretty good incentive."

Judy laughed. "Your father and I think so. We know Tom and Grace Jacobs are your and Jess's best friends, and that they're leaving in June. Since the summer beach trip didn't work out too well, we thought the four of you might like to spend spring break together and do something...different."

Warily, Leslie asked, "How different?"

"We still have to work out the details, and I'm very sad to inform you that your father and I will not be able to go with you..." Although she tried to hide it, Leslie's eyes brightened, until... "But Jack and Mary Aarons will be accompanying you. Possibly Al Jacobs, too."

A little deflated after the initial thrill, the teen tried to keep a straight face. "Why won't you and Dad be going?" she asked.

"Les, I'm pregnant again, and due in May."

Speechless, but only for a few seconds, Leslie relieved her mother's apprehension by smiling and then jumping up to give her a hug.

Later that night, Leslie made a decision concerning something she had been considering for many months. It was obvious that the bargaining with her parents on acceptable behavior between herself and Jesse could not continue. She was fifteen, after all. She would honor her agreement until Jesse's birthday in April, but after that, what happened would be between Jesse and herself – only.


10 December, 0900 Zulu, The Persian Gulf
Above and aboard the USS Mount Megiddo, LCAC 14

Timing was everything, and though tired from weeks of flying and fighting, the crews of sixty-one strategic bombers were awake, alert, and aggressive. The eight B-2 Spirit stealth bombers, twenty-nine B-1 Lancer strategic bombers, and thirty-two B-52 Stratofortresses flew together in the largest combined bomber formation since World War II, unopposed and, except for possible mechanical breakdowns, seemingly unstoppable. Preceding the bombers were F-117 stealth fighters and F-15 fighter-bombers configured to hunt out surface-to-air missile radars, triple-A artillery, and any other ground-based threats to the one hundred billion dollars of hardware that followed in the sky. And covering, protecting, and monitoring all of these were the venerable E-3 AWACS with fifty F/A-18 and F-22 fighters providing close air support from two carrier task forces in the gulf. With the Iranian air force reportedly destroyed, little air opposition was expected.

Far below the aircraft, in the waters of the Persian Gulf, there was an impressive sight, though few of the pilots could afford more than a one or two second glance to admire the view. Seventy LCAC Hovercraft and six LPD, LHD, and LSDs carried the tanks, armored personnel carriers and other assorted specialty troops and vehicles of the 116th Infantry Brigade Combat Team, the spearhead unit for the invasion of southern Iran. The fast-moving LCAC led the flotilla, and Corporal Tobias Walsh was trying to imagine how far off the coast of Bandar Abbas they were. The briefings had told his fellow soldiers that the bombers would hit just five minutes before they reached the beach, and at forty knots, five minutes was a little more than three nautical miles from the shore. And that was cutting it damn close.

There was not the slightest bit of compassion or mercy in Walsh's Bradley: those bastards had started the war. It was a sentiment common in the military and gave very, very few service men and women second thoughts about what would happen shortly ashore. Nearly a thousand tons of high-explosive bombs would rain down on the small port-city providing cover for the landing Army units, and hopefully destroy what little opposition that might exist.

The LCAC, an air-cushioned hovercraft, theoretically, was a smoother ride to shore, but most of the three crew and six passengers in the cramped Bradley it carried were puking, getting ready to puke, or had already puked. And the inside of the APC, Toby was sure, carried more than the odor of stomach juices: someone had shit his pants. More than once he had to take stock and make sure it was not himself.

Another hard bounce, then the engines spun down and the ride became as smooth as a baby's behind, and that meant…

The roar of the Bradley's engine was a welcome sound, if for no other reason than it would mean the air filters were going to start and clear out some of the stench. But it also meant that the LCAC was at the rendezvous and awaiting the bombers. On the deck, next to the APC were three light vehicles, Hummers armed with machine guns, surface-to-air missiles, and communications equipment, as well as four wheeled carriers with supplies; water and fuel, mostly. Other LCAC held similar loads, including twelve with the mighty sixty-three ton Abrams M1A2 main battle tanks, the real striking power of the unit.

Toby took a long pull of water from one of his two canteens and hoped the water truck next to them made it safely to shore. Refastening the canteen to his ALICE, he sat back and waited.

And waited.

The vehicle commander's voice came over the intercom and announced a two-minute delay while the, "Dumb-shit Air Force lined-up on the correct beach." Toby was perfectly happy to wait as long as they needed, just so the right spot was bombed. Being a friendly fire casualty – or any sort of casualty – was not his idea of a successful Army career.

The Sergeant reminded everyone, for the tenth time, to check their equipment, particularly their weapons. That took thirty seconds. Then the Bradley commander's voice announced another delay.

"What the FUCK is going on out there?" a panicked voice asked unnecessarily. The Sergeant stared the eighteen-year-old into silence. But the Bradley's radioman/gunner answered.

"A couple rag-head fighters got through the outer CAP. The Navy's butt-fuckin' 'em right now. Wanna hear?"

For no other reason than to break the tension, Walsh shouted out "Yes" along with the other five troops. Even the Sergeant had agreed. The radioman pushed two buttons and the inside of the APC was filled with static. An occasional voice broke through the noise.

"…Two MIGs…angels twenty…Blue Seven, what's your ETA?..."

"…On radar…ten secs, Big Bro…targets acquired…I have tone…locked on…missiles away…tracking both targets….splash two, Big Bro. Tell the Old Men to waltz, Blue Seven RTB to get a drink…"

The jumpy PFC across from him looked lost, but when the air battle was over, Toby told him what had happened.

"Blue Seven is a couple of our fighters. Big Bro is the AWACS steering them to intercept the MIGs. You heard them, they shot the fuckers down, and Blue Seven told the Old Men, those are the bombers, they could start their run. It will probably take a couple minutes for them to get repositioned. We're good, kid, don't worry." The words appeared to help Toby, too, and he caught an appreciative glance from their Sergeant: One panicking troop in a cramped Bradley can cause deadly mayhem in no time.

Two minutes passed and little was heard over the intercom. Almost time.

The LCAC's engines revved-up and the gentle rocking of the hovercraft became sharp little bounces as the craft began a slow circle before heading into the beach. Two loud tones were heard from the front of the vehicle, Toby knew they were the warning tones for the bombers. The Sergeant warned everyone to cover their ears. Even from three miles, a thousand tons of high explosives could injure an eardrum.

Then all Hell broke loose.

Three loud gong-like sounds were heard from the front of the Bradley, followed immediately by a string of vile curses, three more tones, and then the LCAC accelerated and made a sharp turn to port, so sharp that the three troops across from Toby would have landed on their neighbors if they had not been strapped in. But it was what he heard on the Air Force frequency that chilled his blood.

"…Echo three, Echo three, three or four contacts, on the deck, bearing zero-two-zero, heading one-eight-zero, speed one-zero-eight-zero…"

"…roger Big Bro…where the hell are all these planes coming from?..."

"…unknown, Echo three…you need to…"

"…burners, I am, shut up, Big Bro…ETA twenty-two seconds…"

Toby, like the others in the APC, was transfixed by the brief chatter, but he was the only one, other than the Sergeant, who noticed the AWACS controller say, "…won't make it…" through the growing static. The recently calmed PFC vomited again, but no one cursed him this time.

Only two thoughts entered Tobias Walsh's minds over the next thirty seconds.

The first was making love to his new wife three months earlier.

The second was the briefing from the LCAC commanding officer earlier in the day, specifically when one of the Hummer drivers asked about the conditions under which they would turn back and abort the landing. The reply had been etched into his brain and now seemed intent on bursting forth in a scream of terror.

"Corporal, only Jesus himself or a fucking NUKE will turn us back."

Toby was pretty certain it wasn't Jesus that had caused the reversal of course. Again, he caught the Sergeant's eyes, but there was nothing reassuring in them this time: He had heard the same briefing. They shrugged at each other, both wondering if giving the troops a warning would do more harm than good, and both chose to do nothing, though Toby covered his eyes.

The Air Force chatter on the intercom became frantic, unintelligible.

The Bradley's gunner could be heard cursing his jammed-open viewing port, and praying.

The engines on the LCAC screamed.

A Stinger surface-to-air missile whooshed away from one of the Hummers.

Although his hands were pressed tightly over his eyes, Tobias Walsh flinched when a painfully bright white light appeared and seemed to turn his hands and eyelids translucent for a fraction of a second; the bones and veins visible, as if he had suddenly gained the power of X-Ray vision.

He knew otherwise.

Revision 1.1, April, 2008