Related episode: 2.3 The Perfect Storm, 2.5 The Aftermath

Tension-the phenomenon of inducing an unsettled feeling in the listener until resolution occurs, for example: dissonance

After awhile, I stopped thinking of it as a body, an actual, former living thing, because to acknowledge that might make it worse. Pale flesh lay before me and I could still remember how the body had looked before it had been cut up. I was surprised there was so little blood.

"I cannot believe that you're doing that without gloves on," Alicia complained, pinching her nose shut against the lingering smell.

"It's a squid," I said. "No different from preparing calamari."

Yes, it was dissection day in biology and apparently, squid is cheaper than frogs. The amphibians were saved for the AP students since there were fewer of them than us. The rest of us got to practice our sushi making.

Alicia shuddered again. She was taking biology again, after failing the year before. Somehow, her parents had managed to get her into the same class as me in the hopes that she would actually pass this year.

"What did you do before?" I asked. In the months that we had been lab partners, that's how we would work: I'd ask what she had done the first time around, figure out what was so hard for her to get, and then work it through with her.

"Same thing I'm doing now," Alicia answered, which is to say, nothing, still eyeing the piece of seafood with disgust.

"Well, that's probably why you got a low score on the lab," I pointed out as gently as I could. Alicia has been my best friend since I moved to Virginia in grade school, but she's not a great student, even worse when she hates the subject. So far, biology has been a subtle battle between us for me to help her without doing the work for her which is what she wanted me to do.

Luckily, I just followed my own tutor's example by walking or talking Alicia through a process once, then having her do it herself. Then again, I'm lucky because I've got Reid as my tutor when I need it and he's got three PhD's.

"Come on, I'll get the pen and ink sac out and then you can write at the bottom of the page," I cajoled, feeling around the squid's body for the tip of its pen, the plastic-like piece that was the closest thing to a skeleton that a squid has.

Alicia shuddered again as I worked the ink sac off to the side and held the pen out for her. I was reaching the limit of my patience with her squeamishness. Finally, she put a glove on her hand and took the pen from me. She punctured the ink sac, letting out a bit of a girly squeal, and wrote her name at the bottom of our lab worksheet. I added my own name and then took our tray to the trash to dispose of the remains.

I was washing my hands thoroughly in one of the huge sinks lining the back of the room when another person came up beside me.

"That was interesting."

I looked over and saw Mark Amborn standing next to me, peeling a glove off of his hand. Mark is almost six feet tall, brown hair and brown eyes, a runner's physique, and he plays saxophone in band. Basically, he was one of the hottest guys in our year and for some reason, he was attracted to me. We had been flirting for almost a year, secretly for most of it, because Dad would have freaked out. Now that I was sixteen, we were allowed to go on actual dates. I still hadn't officially told Dad and I really didn't want to. He would still freak out.

"It was interesting," I agreed, soaping up again. I would have band later in the morning and there was no way I was touching my flute with fishy smelling hands.

"I was thinking of going hiking this weekend before it gets too cold," Mark said with a smile. "Want to come?"

"Just the two of us?" I asked and raised my eyebrow.

"Well, if you can get your mom's car and drive us, it could be," Mark suggested.

I smiled back. "I'll ask."

Mark reached out to run his fingers through my hair, twisting until his hand was tangled. If we had been out in the hallway, he might have kissed me full on the lips, but not while we were in class.

The bell was about to ring and I still had to organize my notes from the day. I flicked some water at Mark's face, startling a laugh out of him and he untangled his hand.

"I'll call you later tonight," I said as he followed me back to my lab table. Alicia watched us approach with a teasing smirk. She thought it was hilarious that I had a boyfriend and she didn't since she was the more outgoing of the two of us.

"I can't wait," Mark replied, leaning in to give me a quick peck on the cheek before returning to his own table for his books and notebooks.

The shrill bell brought me back to myself—I sometimes still got a little floored whenever Mark kissed or touched me—and gathered up my things quickly.

"You two are so adorable," Alicia commented.

I rolled my eyes. Alicia left me to go to advanced algebra while I went to my locker to drop off my bio stuff, get my flute, music, and my books for French. The rest of my day passed with the usual classes, note taking, teenage angst, and so on. After school, I waited outside despite the dropping temperatures for either Mom or Dad to pick me up. I knew that Dad was coming back from a case because he had sent me a text during the day. Sometimes, it would be just like any other parent picking up their kid at school. Sometimes, it was just bad.

This was going to be one of the bad days, I could tell. Instead of waiting in the car, Dad parked and walked to meet me on the sidewalk. Soon, I was encased in a bone-crushing hug as Dad reassured himself that I was okay while he tried to keep his composure.

"Dad, what happened?" I asked, squeezing back.

"A bad case, Rae, that's all," Dad said quietly, pulling back a second later. Then, without looking at me, he stalked off to the car, clearly expecting me to follow. It must have been a really bad case then.

I didn't say anything while Dad drove because I didn't want to chance him getting distracted. True to his usual completely freaked out post-case ritual, he followed me inside the house, now watching every move I made as if I would disappear if he took his eyes off of me for a second.

"Do you want some tea?" I asked, getting out two mugs without waiting for an answer. As a little kid, I hadn't understood what Dad was doing when he would get like this. I thought it was annoying having him hover so closely. Over the years, I've come to realize in addition to Dad wanting to know that I'm safe, he wants to be reminded that life goes on after cases end.

I put one sugar into the mug with Earl Grey for Dad and put two into mine with Chai tea. I poured hot water into both, waiting for the sugar to dissolve and the tea to steep. I handed Dad his mug, keeping my own and then walking out to the living room couch. We sat next to each other.

"Can you tell me what happened?" I asked softly when I couldn't stand it any longer.

Dad brought his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "The girls were your age. I won't tell you what was done to them."

I felt my whole body go cold, even my hands holding onto the tea cup. I guessed that the girls were the victims and if Dad was being cagey about even the general facts of the case, it had to be horrible. I thought about other bad cases Dad had told me about and what I'd read about on my own, multiplied it in my mind and then shuddered.

I drank to bring myself back to awareness, noticing that Dad had set his cup down only half empty. We didn't say anything else and didn't have to. About a half later of sitting in silence, Dad seemed to shake himself off.

"How was school today?"

"We dissected squid in biology," I answered. Suddenly I remembered how I had cut into the squid's flesh and removed its inner organs. I had dug my bare fingers into its body, all with clinical efficiency. Is that what had been done to those girls? I didn't dare ask because now I didn't want an answer.

I talked about band and orchestra to change the subject. Both Mr. Rose and Mrs. Kessler had announced that the two groups for upperclassmen next year would take a trip to Chicago on spring break. Mom came home sometime after that and quickly picked up on Dad's mental state. She called for take out and sent me to start my homework.

My bedroom is in the basement level, renovated and soundproofed, like my own little domain. My gray tabby, Hannah, came out to greet me, winding between my feet. Hannah is extremely shy and avoids everyone except for me, even Mom. I sat on my bed and pulled out my Greek mythology book for English.

I never heard about what had been done to the victims, or even if any of them were alive. In fact, Dad went back to his old method of nondisclosure entirely for awhile, not telling me anything, even after I asked. So I went back to my research habits because at least Dad was still telling me where he was going. I read about the bank robberies in LA and the rapes in Ohio. Dad seemed even worse after that case.

"Is this something with your dad again?" Alicia asked me in the minutes before band started one day. Alicia only sometimes picked up on when something serious was going on with me, but when she did, she usually blamed Dad. She's usually right.

"I'm not sure," I answered, grabbing my music folder out of my slot. I saw Michael watching me carefully from his position in the back with the percussion instruments, wielding his drumsticks across his chest defensively. I nodded briefly at him to say that I would talk with him later.

I was able to shake Alicia off because her assigned seat was a row back from mine and at the opposite end. But when I sat down, I felt hands on my shoulders.

"You are super tense, baby."

I looked up and around and saw Mark grinning down at me. I faked a smile in response.

"Just some parent drama," I answered. For all he could make my skin tingle, I still didn't know Mark as well as Alicia or Michael. Mark still thought Dad's job as an FBI agent was cool.

"I know just what you need," Mark said, leaning closer and kissing me gently on the cheek. "How about you come over tonight and hang out. Real low key."

I smiled for real this time. "That sounds nice. I'll ask my mom when I get home."

"Good."

Mrs. Kessler came out and got us started and I lost myself in our music for the next forty minutes. I've been playing the flute since I was nine and it's something I relied on for a lot of reasons. Most of my friends were band or orchestra members and I spent most of my time with them in and out of school, so it was definitely critical to my socialization. Music was a great way to distract myself from anything else wrong in my life, like my current worries and other points in my life. Mastering a run of tricky eighth notes, sustaining a long phrase on little breath, or learning a new fingering always made me feel proud like nothing else could. And music brought peace to my heart in a pure and beautiful fashion.

At the end of band, I headed to lunch with Mark, sitting close enough that there was no space between our legs. He kept me smiling which kept me going through English and PE. Orchestra was my last class for the day and I concentrated on my playing once again. With the final bell, I packed up my books and music to bring home and found myself standing next to Michael.

"Talk," he commanded.

All I had to do was look at him and Michael, like Alicia, figured out the likeliest explanation.

"Rough cases for your dad?" he asked, just to make sure.

"Yeah," I answered. "And he's shutting me out again."

Michael wrapped an arm around my shoulder, the closest he gets to hugging. I leaned in gratefully.

"Do I need to surf online?"

Michael and I had become friends initially because he had showed me a website for bomb enthusiasts, thinking that it was information the FBI needed and that I could tell my dad. Sure, Dad ended up misunderstanding that little event, but that didn't change it for me.

"I think most of it is under the radar," I complained.

"Well, nothing I can do about that," Michael admitted.

"You're doing it," I pointed out. "Sometimes it helps just to have someone else know what's going on."

"I know that feeling."

I was probably the only person that knew about Michael's home life. All of our classmates saw him as a punk and the teachers weren't much better.

"I'd better go," Michael said suddenly, pulling into himself and disappearing into the after school crowd in the hallway before I could respond.

I was confused until I saw Mark headed toward me. However much Michael was friendly with me and a good guy, he always avoided my other friends. It's not like any of them complained about that either.

"You look upset," Mark commented. "Was that jerk bothering you?"

"No," I assured him. "Nothing like that."

"If you say so. Were you able to call your mom about tonight?"

"Not yet. She should be home though, in about an hour, so I can ask her then and give you a call."

Mark smiled and brought his hand up to caress my cheek. "Looking forward to it."

We kissed, gentle and unrushed, mindful of the masses around us. We drew back from each other slowly and I waited for my heartbeat to return to its normal rhythm.

"See you later."

"Bye."

I rode home with Alicia and her mom, Mrs. Burke. I had my license but no car or parking space in the school lot. Once I was home, I finished my homework quickly.

Mom was late and didn't get home until close to six, looking exhausted.

"Hi, sweetie, how was school?" Tired as she was, Mom still sounded genuinely interested.

"It was fine. Would it be okay if I went over to Mark's house for a few hours?" I asked.

"Sure, sweetie. Just be home by ten."

Maybe I was overestimating how aware Mom was because she just kissed me on the cheek and walked down the hall to her bedroom, probably to take a long bath. On a normal night, even Mom would have made sure that Mark's parents were still home and that I promised to be home by curfew. But I wasn't about to question my good luck.

Downstairs in my room, I changed into my favorite V-necked pink tee shirt, keeping my dark jeans on from earlier in the day. I brushed out my hair, leaving it loose, and applied some pink lip gloss on my lips. It was starting to get cold out, so I grabbed a white denim jacket along with Mom's car keys. The drive to Mark's house was fifteen minutes and he answered the door on the first ring.

"Hey, you made it," Mark said with one of his slow, sleepy smiles.

"Sorry, my mom came home late," I explained, walking in. Mark took my jacket and hung it in the front hall closet before leading me downstairs to the den.

"Well, Mom and Dad are out at a party, so it's just you and me tonight," Mark said.

Mark's older brother, Josh, was away at college, so—we really were alone. My breath caught in my throat for a minute as I thought through all the implications of that. This was the very first time Mark and I were together and without the chance of being interrupted by any friends or parents. Suddenly, I had oxygen rushing into my brain again.

I joined Mark on the couch, sitting close so that his arm eventually draped around my shoulders. With him staring at me, I smiled hesitantly. He smiled back.

We didn't do anything right away except watch television. I think we weren't used to the freedom we had since we had had to play it pretty safe up until then. But somehow my hand ended up resting on his chest, right above his heartbeat and his hand on my arm started rubbing against my skin with his thumb.

It was just so nice to have normal worries, like wondering when he would lean in to kiss me or if I should start it. Worry about if his parents came home early or if Mom or Dad would call to interrupt. Even that thought didn't linger long and I was even forgetting all my concerns about Dad and his team and work.

And it was then I decided to just let go. I sat up a little, ignoring how Mark drew back a little as if he was worried I was going to stand up. I moved my hand to his face, feeling his cheek which barely required shaving at this point. I leaned in and kissed him, tasting the minty toothpaste he must have used before I had arrived, judging from the potency. It made me glad I had sucked on a mint on the drive over.

Without hesitation, Mark shifted his hands to my hips and guided me onto his lap so that I straddled him. I broke away from his mouth with a jolt, feeling him directly underneath me.

"I, I don't know how far I want to go," I admitted breathlessly.

"It's okay," Mark assured me, kissing me gently and drawing back again. "You can stop us whenever you want."

So even though I still felt him and his hands squeezed my waist tightly, I leaned in closer and wrapped my arms around his shoulders and neck. We kissed and when I felt his tongue on the seam of my lips, I opened them.

I didn't even have words to describe how it all felt. Words didn't even matter any more, just Mark, his lips, his hands. His hands which were slowly working their way underneath my tee shirt and touching my bare skin. I felt goose bumps rise on my arms and I shivered.

"This is, this is enough," I whispered. "Please, just this."

"Whatever you say," Mark promised with a gentle kiss. "Clothes will stay on."

I laughed a little, and maybe a little hysterically. "Okay, then go back to what you were doing before."

"As you wish."

The next kiss was as hungry and fervent as before, with tongues and questing hands. He couldn't help but jerk his hips up, sending another jolt straight through me.

Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo!

It was like a freaking bucket of cold water had been dumped all over us. Mark jumped back, I sat up, both of us out of breath and shaking.

"Damn, effing, cuckoo clock," Mark swore.

I giggled. Then I realized how many times the bird had sounded.

"Oh, crap. I had to be home, like ten seconds ago," I babbled.

"What?"

"My curfew is ten o'clock. I've got to get home."

"Right, of course, sorry."

Mark walked me upstairs, handed me my jacket, and kissed me again. I put my hand firmly on his chest and pushed him away. "No more of that," I said. "Neither of us want to see me grounded."

I got out of the door without any other distractions and somehow drove home without running off the road. Mom was asleep when I checked, so I just kissed her good night and went down to my room. After changing into my pajamas and lying down in bed, I still felt fire racing through my veins.

For that night, I didn't have any other worries except to wonder when Mark and I would be alone again.


Notes:

I cannot tell you all how good it feels to be posting regularly again. It's like going back to an exercise regimen after being lazy for awhile (speaking of...I really should start that again, too). Thanks for the reviews and I hope you are all enjoying this as much as the first movement so far.

In regards to Rachel and Mark, I would like to say up front that yes, their physical relationship is going to develop this movement, but I promise it will not get much more detailed than the section above. Let's call it "lemonade" instead of "lemons" since I want to keep this rating where it is. Also, they're teenagers which is reason enough. Just thought I would be clear about that right now, up front. And for those of you who want Mark to disappear, and soon, sorry, I can't oblige you just yet.

Also, if I could ask a gigantically huge favor for anyone who is willing, I have another CM story on this site Stalk and Stable for which I also have a sequel. I didn't get a lot of reviews or attention for it, but I'm wondering if now that I have such wonderful people reading this, at least some of you would be willing to give it a try and tell me if I should start work on that again along side with Sonata in G. Thanks!

In other news, spring is on its way, the sun is shining, and I am in rehearsals for both a concert in April and Good Friday also in April which makes me happier than it should. So, good day, good night, and good weather to you all, thank you for reading, feel free to ask any questions or make any comments (though I don't guarantee an answer) and I'll be back next week with another chapter.

Cantoris