All characterizations, plot lines, backgrounds and details belong to the author. Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. February, 2011.

Thanks as always, to my incredible xrxdanixrx, who also made the banner. Check out her wonderful new story: These Days. XO BB

A million thanks to my dear friend MizzezPattinson who has graciously agreed to pre-read this story. Much love, hun. Your support means everything to me. XO

Thanks to all who are reading, reviewing, and recommending this little story. As always, let me know what you think. Well, let's see what happens on this bachelor party, shall we? Think our Numberward will survive? Come, join me.

Edward

Chapter 14

Seven. The number of people crammed into Jacob's de Havilland Canada DHC-2 Beaver plane as we hurl towards Anchorage and his wanton bachelor party.

Sixteen minutes. The amount of time we've been airborne as my heart races uncontrollably.

One tiny hand resting firmly in mine. It's the only thing that's remotely calming at the moment. Isabella leans into my side, encouraging me to look out the window. I can't believe I'm on this aircraft-and I use that term loosely- again.

Jake seems intent to want to fly more recklessly than I would like, switching angles frequently and eliciting squeals of delight from Alice and Rosalie.

"Where's everybody else, Jake?" Jasper yells over the deafening sound of the engine as we soar beside the mountains.

"Drove down this morning. Sam and the band were auditioning at one of the bars for a gig," Jacob explains.

A gig? Is he serious? I hope Sam and his marginal band of questionable musicians have some sort of a backup plan.

"It's pretty cool up here, bro, right?" Emmett asks, hitting me on the back while I try not to hyperventilate.

I nod and clench my eyes tighter. We can't be on the ground soon enough.

Mercifully, we land without incident, well, other the fact that I'm rooted to my seat, unable to actually move, the life vest hitched up around my neck as the group exits the plane happily laughing.

Sometimes, I wish I could be more like Emmett and Jasper. There is nothing that seems to faze them. They take everything in stride and are already on to the next adventure while I sit here and try not to spiral into a full blown panic attack.

"Edward?" I hear Isabella's voice through the ringing in my ears. Her hand runs up my arm, and I open my eyes, staring back into hers as my shaking starts to calm.

"You don't have to sit here with me. I'm embarrassed enough as it is," I grumble, beyond mortified that she has to witness me in this state.

She smiles, squeezing my arm. "Lots of people hate flying."

"I don't hate flying. I just don't enjoy this particular plane. It's seems so small and old, and quite frankly, the way Jacob flies borders on irresponsible."

"Jacob is one of the best pilots in Alaska. He's just showing off. He's trying to impress you," she says gently.

I huff and shake my head. "Steering towards mountains doesn't impress me, Isabella." She grimaces at me. I shouldn't have said that. Now, I've offended her best friend. "I'm sorry. That was extremely rude," I apologize.

"Don't apologize. He can be an ass. It's all part of his charm." I nod, watching as she gets up from the seat, moving to the door of the plane. "Come on. We've got a bachelor party to go to." I rise on shaking legs, moving beside her. Her smile widens while she tugs on the bottom of the life vest. "I don't think you'll be needing this," she teases.

I shake my head at how ridiculous I must look. "Right." I try to pull the life vest off, my glasses falling forward in the process. She grabs the bottom of the red, aging fabric and swiftly hoists it from around my neck.

"There." She tosses the vest onto one of the seats, holding her hand out to me. "Let's go see what kind of damage we can do," she says, rolling her eyes.

I push my glasses back up and take her hand willingly, the warmth coursing through me while I let her lead me down the dock and into the blackened streets of Anchorage.

BTN

"It'll be fine, Eddie," Jacob says as I ask him about the safety of our bags on the plane. After a lengthy debate on whether to arrange for lodging right away, Emmett determined that the matter best be decided over a round of drinks.

Jacob assures me that our overnight bags will be fine, while we, as he says, "party." I'm skeptical, to say the least. I'm really trying not to be negative, but this whole evening seems ill planned to me.

We aimlessly wander the streets for over twenty minutes before Bella stops in front of Chilkoot Charlie's, or as Jacob says "Koots," pulling me inside. The outside rustic wooden facade is deceptively small, and I feel my eyes widen when I set foot on the dirt floor covered in peanut shells. It's a good thing I don't have an allergy.

According to Jacob, Koots is the place to be for a good time in Anchorage. I find that extremely hard to believe. It's essentially a massive post and beam shack with a matrix of hallways leading to several themed bars, all of which he clearly intends to visit.

I discover quickly that there is no dress code whatsoever; an obvious clue of the type of crowd inside. The clientele seems to be mostly in their twenties or early thirties; many of the women dressed provocatively, the men opening gawking at them, practically salivating like hungry wolves. It's reminiscent of Emmett's fraternity parties during college or the words of Jasper, a proverbial meat market.

Once again, I feel overdressed in my tie, slacks, and dark blue dress shirt. I'm glad I took Rosalie's advice and decided against wearing a blazer. Jasper, Emmett, and Jacob all have jeans and T-shirts on, with Alice and Rosalie in knee length skirts and blouses. Bella is more casually dressed with a pair of black jeans and a short sleeved black sweater that is rather… tight.

The bar is so jammed full of people, I wonder if they are in violation of the fire safety code. Jacob drags us through a dizzying labyrinth of narrow passageways, until we come to a room which contains dangling brassieres and underwear, hanging from the walls and ceiling. Apparently, it is a tradition here, so he tells us, that the women divest themselves of their bras. I am beyond mortified.

Jacob somehow finds us a table while we wait for Sam and his band to join us. How they are going to find us in here is a mystery to me. I'm not sure how we are going to find our way out. I'm also quite sure my ears are never going to be the same. We are assaulted by blaring country music being played by a live band, which is entirely too loud, as we all squeeze around a round, cheap, worn, wooden table.

I feel like I'm suffocating as sweaty bodies continually bump into our chairs with no apologies being made. Isabella doesn't seem to mind in the least, and the point quickly becomes moot as Alice and Rosalie drag her out onto the slanted dance floor.

"So, Eddie, what's your pleasure? This is a fine place to pick up." Jacob has to yell in order for us to hear him.

"I'm not here to pick up, as you so eloquently say, Jacob," I reply, narrowing my eyes at him. Who in their right mind would want to pick up- as he so rudely described- any one of these women? Most of them are extremely drunk, finding it hard to stand upright. It's repulsive, actually. There is nothing even remotely attractive about their behaviour.

"I'll go get us a round," Jasper says, eyeing the packed bar that is lined with bumper stickers at the opposite end of the room. "Jager?" Oh dear Lord. I'm going to need all of my facilities about me for this evening, I know it. No Jager shots for me.

I ask him to bring me a soda water while Jacob stares at me in disbelief. "Not drinking, Eddie?"

"No. I can have a pleasant time without getting completely inebriated."

"But it's my bachelor party, dude! You have to drink something," he urges.

And now, I feel bad for not at least joining him in a celebratory drink. I suppose he's right; I could at least have a light beer. "And a Budweiser Light, Jasper," I add as Jacob slaps me on the back.

"That's more like it," Jacob says happily. "So, what do you think about Koots?" He leans back in his rickety chair, surveying the dance floor.

Emmett smiles widely, flicking a black lace bra that hangs off the wall behind him. "I love it!" Of course he does. We are polar opposites, as further evidenced by the fact that he seems to know the words of the pina colada song that the lead singer is currently warbling.

"Sing it, Edward!" Emmett yells, standing up on his chair and singing along at the top of his lungs as I shrink down in my seat, hoping to disappear. The rest of the crowd belts out the lyrics along with the band.

So bring me two pina coladas

I want one for each hand

Let's set sail with Captain Morgan

Oh and never leave dry land

Hey troubles I forgot 'em

I buried 'em in the sand

I shake my head at Emmett, laughing at how ridiculous he is. He just sings louder, the bar erupting in cheers, joining in with the band. I have a feeling its going to be an extremely long night.

BTN

Sam and his band have arrived and they've been drinking steadily for the last hour, applying Jacob with shots of whiskey faster than he can consume them. He's only just starting to show the effects of the sheer amount of liquor he has already consumed. If they were to try to get me to drink this much, I would be passed out by the third shot, I'm sure.

I've never understood this right of passage. Why does a man who is about to be married feel the need to get so drunk before his wedding that he won't remember what happened to him? Why is it necessary to go to a debased strip club and leer at gyrating women? That's the next embarrassing event on the agenda, if I can ever get them out of here. What does any of this have to do with getting married?

My annoyance grows as I listen to Isabella and Jacob reminisce in between dances about past experiences. I know without a doubt that I am jealous. I'm jealous that they can laugh about things this way. I'm jealous of the way he touches her, of how open she is with him. I know I have absolutely no logical reason to be, which only serves to fuel my irritation.

"You sure you won't dance with me?" Isabella asks hopefully, the pulsing lights almost hypnotizing me as they bounce off her creamy skin. The more she drinks, the more she seems to want to touch me, which I'm finding it hard to complain about.

"Yes. I'm sure. You go have fun. I'll save your spot here." I pat the torn red fabric on the seat beside me as Rosalie pulls her back to the packed dance floor.

Jasper and Emmett seem oblivious to the fact that every male in the place is leering at Alice and Rosalie. I presume their indifference comes from the sheer abundance of confidence both of them have in their relationships. They've been together a very long time, and I suppose they have gone past jealous tendencies some time ago.

While I watch Jacob stumble his way onto the dance floor and commence bumping and grinding with the three of them, I envy him. He doesn't seem to care that he is making an absolute fool out of himself; in fact, he seems to welcome the attention. I can only imagine how red my face would be if I was in a similar situation. But that is the vast difference between Jacob and me. I would never willingly put myself in that situation.

I shake my head, trying to focus back on the slurring conversation between Emmett and Jasper. "You said the bike rental place was right downtown, right?" Jasper asks, draining his shot glass.

I nod. "Yes. Actually, we should try to find lodging as close to it as possible. I'm sure you're going to want to sleep in tomorrow."

"This is one of the many reasons I love you, man," Jasper says, clinking his glass to my beer bottle.

Emmett drinks back the remnants of his Vodka Red Bull, crunching on the ice. "Hmm, there's an advertisement for some hostel on the back of the menu," he says, fumbling to retrieve the tattered drink list from the centre of the table.

"We are not staying anywhere where the word hostel is included in the name," I practically bark over the music.

"Live a little, bro. It also has adventure in the name. How bad can it be?"

"I have been pushed to the edge of my comfort zone enough already this evening. I'll find us a proper place to stay that's central for everyone." I slide out from behind the table and ready myself to approach the bar. Hopefully, the bartender will have recommendations for us on a suitable hotel. "Please make sure that Isabella's seat isn't taken while I'm gone."

Emmett salutes me. "Yes, sir."

I laugh and squeeze my way through the pulsating bodies to the bar.

BTN

I push my way back through the crowd in a state of shock, gripping a cocktail napkin with the phone number and address of the Hotel Captain Cook in my hand, which the bartender assures me is one of the finer hotels in Anchorage.

"What's up?" Emmett asks, looking concerned as I stop at the table.

"I just…" I look back to the bar, utterly mystified at what just transpired. "They had a pen that was in the shape of…" My voice trails.

"Of what, dude?"

I dart my eyes to my trousers, and he furrows his brow. "A male organ," I whisper.

"What?" he asks while Jacob stumbles back to the table with Sam and Isabella in tow.

"Never mind," I mumble, feeling my face flush.

"Never mind what, Eddie?" Jake slurs, leaning into me as he tries to stand.

"It's nothing," I say quickly.

"He was just starting to tell me about a pen at the bar," Emmett says innocently. Oh God! Why can't he just drop it?

"Oh! Did you get an exploding one, or one shaped like a dick?" Sam asks, draping his arm over Isabella's shoulder.

"Um… the, err, second one you said," I mumble. This couldn't be any more embarrassing.

"The dick? The cock? Come on, Eddie, say it!" Jacob yells. I was wrong; yes it can be more embarrassing.

I shift uncomfortably while Isabella shakes her head at Jacob, hitting him in the chest. "Enough, you drunken idiot. Sit down for a while," she urges, pulling out a chair for him beside Jasper. He sinks down into it while I silently thank Isabella for ending that awkward exchange. "I'm just going to find the bathroom."

"I'll come with you," I offer, not wanting to be the brunt of more embarrassment. I'm also not sure it's entirely safe for her to be wandering around this bar unaccompanied.

She looks at me skeptically, but then reaches for my hand, dragging me through the crowded bar. I follow along, keeping close to her while she weaves her way down one of the many hallways.

She stops in front of a small, unstable door, turning back to me, her hands landing on my chest as the door bumps her from behind. "Sorry, it's crowded in here," she says, smiling apologetically.

"It's alright. Are you okay? That door hit you rather hard," I say, narrowing my eyes at the oblivious woman who wanders off without even apologizing.

Isabella sighs, her hand drifting up around my neck while my heart hammers. "You are too good to me. It's just a door; I'll be fine." I nod at her. "You didn't have to come with me here, you know," she adds, her fingers lightly tracing the hair at the nape of my neck.

I shiver under her touch, trying to remember how to speak. "No, actually, I think I did. It's… dangerous in here."

"Dangerous?" she asks, laughing.

"Yes. That's the word I'm using for it."

"I think you're the one who's dangerous, Edward Cullen," she says darkly.

My eyes widen at her words. "I may be a lot of things, Isabella, but dangerous is not one of them."

"I disagree." Her hand slides down to my chest while I try not to pass out. "You're strong," she says, running her hand up to my tie. "And this tie is…" She bites down on her lower lip before wetting it. "And these glasses… yeah, you're dangerous, for me, anyway." Her hand slides down my tie while my breathing elevates, and then, she turns on her heel, disappearing into the ladies room while I stand gaping at the door.

I'm at a loss for words, which is not unusual when I'm in her presence. But this? It must be the alcohol talking; though, as I think about it now, I believe she has only had three drinks since we arrived. Still, I try to keep things in perspective as I wait beside the door, squirming to get out of the way of the constant stream of people flowing through the hallway.

I don't understand why this bar is so busy. It makes no sense at all to me. I'm sure that there are several less boorish establishments that we could have gone to. I scowl, thinking of our next destination. I can only imagine what this strip club is going to entail. I pray we aren't there for too long.

Isabella emerges a few moments later, smiling up at me. "Thank you for waiting," she says, taking my hand again.

"Of course I waited."

She squeezes my fingers, pulling me down the hallway. "Most people wouldn't," she says over her shoulder to me.

"I'm not most people."

"No. You sure aren't."

BTN

We stand outside of the Great Alaskan Bush Company; a strip club, which Sam assures me has, and I quote, "the most classy chicks in town." I shudder at his words. There are so many things wrong with this scenario; I'm not even sure where to start to try to explain them.

My only solace is that it's one twenty-five in the morning and they'll have to tire soon. I know I am exhausted and there's not much more of this I can handle.

Thankfully, our lodging has been settled. I called over to the hotel suggested to me by the bartender on the way over, and breathed a sigh of relief when they confirmed that they did have enough rooms for all of us to stay.

I stare up at the saloon like exterior of the strip club, feeling nauseous. "Are you sure you want to go in there, Isabella?" I ask as she tugs me to the door.

"Just for a while. It's not that bad. You'll see," she says, trying to sound convincing.

I roll my eyes at her, adjusting my glasses as the group makes its way into the club. Once inside, Rosalie and Alice link arms with Isabella and take off towards the horseshoe shaped stage in the middle of the large club.

There are several occupied seats around the stage, which currently has two scantily clad women on it, grinding away to bawdy music under the rays of a bright spotlight. I turn away from the stage and move to the bar. I am beyond disgusted already. I've only ever been to one other club such as this previously with Emmett and Jasper back in college I lasted all of about fifteen minutes before I left. I have a feeling I won't fair any longer this time.

"What can I get you, professor?" a young woman in a tight tank top leans over the counter, staring back at me in amusement. Her name is KiKi, according to the badge sewen into her top.

"Pro… Professor?" I ask as Jasper sits on the stool beside me, chuckling.

"Yeah, the tie, the glasses, it's a good look for you," she says, her eyes sweeping down me.

"I'm not… I'm not a professor," I state the obvious.

"Sure you're not. Okay, what'll it be, then?"

I look at Jasper questioningly, and he proceeds to order a round of beers. "See, it's not that bad," he says, nodding to the stage.

I shake my head at him. "It's horrible, Jasper. Seriously, why do you even want to be here?"

"I don't, but it's Jacob's party, man, and if this is what he wants, this is what we'll do," he says, shrugging. I nod, watching as KiKi pours out beers from the tapped keg into large frosted pilsner glasses, and for the first time, I think that I could actually use a drink. "Remember when we went to the Museum of Technology for your birthday back in high school?"

"I was fifteen," I say in defense.

He lifts his eyebrows to me. "Still…"

"You didn't… you didn't want to go?" I ask in shock.

"I wanted to go because that's what you wanted, and you're my best friend. That's what we do for each other. So, let's suck it up, get a couple of laughs, and then, we can hit the hotel with our women," he says.

"Our women?"

"Come on, Edward. I know how you feel about Bella," he says, nudging me in the arm.

I shift nervously. I knew my behaviour was bordering on obvious. "I don't… I'm not…"

"Relax. She likes you. You don't have to be a mind reader to figure that out."

I shake my head, my eyes falling to Isabella as she cheers on the… dancers. I suppose that's what they are. "It's kind of irrelevant, Jasper. We leave in a few days," I say sadly.

"So?"

I turn back to him, trying to ignore Jacob and Sam's wolf like howls. "It wouldn't be a wise idea for me to act on any feelings I may or may not have for her."

He grips my shoulder and leans closer. "You're allowed to have fun."

"I am having fun."

He shakes his head at me. "You know what I mean. Try not to over think this. She likes you, you like her. What more do you need to know?"

I run my fingers through my hair as I try to take in Jasper's words. "I don't do things like that, you know me. I plan, I analyze, I—"

He squeezes my shoulder tighter. "You're sitting in a strip club at one-thirty in the morning in the middle of Anchorage. Is that your new definition of planning?"

"Well, I-"

"Some of the best things that have ever happened to me came from lack of planning. How I met Alice, deciding to become an interior designer…" His voice trails as he glances over at Alice while she laughs with Rosalie and Isabella.

"You didn't plan on becoming an interior designer? But you're so good at it."

He shakes his head. "Not really. It looked easy, and it turns out I'm damn good at matching colours." I stare back at him, floored by his words. "Besides, I never was smart enough to do anything else."

"Don't say that. Of course you're smart."

"Not like you," he says. "You need to give yourself more credit, Edward." My mouth drops open as he fishes out his wallet, handing KiKi his credit card.

BTN

Nine. The number of songs I've had to endure as I sit with Jasper in a booth as far away from the stage as we can get. The red velvet on the seat is aging and probably should have been replaced years ago.

Six. The number of times Isabella has caught me looking at her while she sits near the stage, cheering on the dancers. Shockingly, there are actually quite a few female customers in here. I can't for the life of me figure out why they would willingly choose this establishment to spend time in. Clearly, I'm missing something.

One extremely thin blonde, currently making a bee-line for our table while she swings a green feather boa around in circles. There is barely enough fabric to cover her breasts, and her shoes are… oh dear Lord! I feel myself flush and turn away from her. Maybe if I don't make eye contact, she'll just keep going.

Don't stop… don't stop. I repeat the words over and over while Jasper shakes his head beside me.

I feel a tickle on my neck and Jasper lifts his eyebrows. "Hello, professor," a low female voice whispers. I look down to see the green boa, winding its way around my neck. My eyes snap to Jasper, silently praying he will send her on her way.

"Hello there, darlin'," he says.

"Care for a private dance?" she asks. She's close enough that I can smell her perfume. It's overpowering, and I immediately fell nauseous.

I stand up from the table and turn to her. "No. We won't be needing a dance." I adjust my glasses, fighting the urge to flee from the table.

"Well, lucky for you, it's already been paid for," she says, wrapping the boa once more around my neck.

"What?" I glare in the direction of Jacob, who is standing up near the stage, waving his arms at me and belting out cat calls. Leave it to Jacob to arrange for something like this. "What is your name?" I ask, turning my attention back to the dancer.

Her eyes widen as she stares back at me in disbelief, as if no one has ever bothered to ask her this question before. She blinks and smirks at me. "It can be anything you want," she says rather seductively. I fight back a shudder while Jasper snickers beside me.

"Miss, I'm sure you're very good at what you do, but I do not require or want a dance," I say solidly.

She scrunches her nose up at me. "You don't want a dance?" she asks in disbelief.

"No." I can't believe I'm in this situation. I can't imagine what Jacob must be thinking trying to arrange something like this. His drunken yelps from across the room answer that question quickly. More proof that alcohol certainly has a negative effect on people.

"But it's already been paid for," she presses.

I remove the boa from my neck and hand it back to her. "Thank you for the offer, but I'll pass."

She stares back at me for a moment, looking almost offended before she whips the boa around her neck and sashays away to another table. I turn back to Jasper. "Can you believe he just did that?" I ask, moving out from behind the table.

"Yeah, I can," he says, chuckling.

I shake my head at him. I'm at a loss for words. "I think I'm going to call it a night."

Jasper slides out from the booth, joining me. "I think that's a good idea."

BTN

Four. The number of attempts it took to get Jacob out of the club.

Ten minutes. The amount of time we spent unloading the plane of luggage. Emmett's first attempt to haul everyone's bags out of the plane all at once almost resulted in him tipping into the water, an action which sent us all into fits of laughter.

Eleven. The number of pictures I've taken of the group around the plane with various cameras. I'm not even sure how any of them are going to turn out, given how dark it is. But Jacob wanted to, and I quote, "capture the most awesome bachelor party ever."

Three. The number of cabs we all piled in to get to the hotel. At least Isabella is tucked safely away beside me and seems intent on apologizing continually for Jacob and his attempt to buy me a private dance.

"I had no idea what he was doing. I told you, he's an idiot… especially when he's drunk," she says, her hand lacing with mine as we wind out way to the hotel.

"It's alright. Don't worry about it."

She sighs, resting her head against my shoulder, and I breathe her in. Everything about her is intoxicating, and I find myself scowling at the short cab ride. I should have instructed the driver to take a scenic route.

The cab stops in front of the hotel, and I get out, extending my hand to her. She grips it tightly, rising out of the cab and leaning into me. "Are you okay?" I ask, worrying that she may have had too much to drink.

"I'm better than okay." I furrow my brow at her while Sam scrambles to get out of the cab behind her, bursting out laughing. She runs her fingers over my forehead. "I know what's going on in there. You think I'm drunk, don't you?" she asks.

I shake my head. "No, well, maybe… are you?"

"No," she says firmly, her eyes burning into mine, the mood suddenly shifting between us.

I tear away from her long enough to see Sam, swaying next to the cab. Oh no. He's going to pass out! Emmett and Jasper emerge from the cab behind us, and I motion to Sam.

"I'm on it, bro," Emmett says, marching over to him and helping him into the hotel.

Honestly, this is what I'm talking about. He's going to feel terrible in the morning and will probably have a horrific hangover. Why deliberately put yourself through it?

I pay the cab driver and gather the bags from the trunk of the cab, leading the rest of the group inside. Emmett has wisely set Sam in a waiting chair and is currently at the check-in desk with Rosalie.

"Will Sam be okay?" I ask once we reach the reception desk.

"Yeah, he'll be fine. I'll get him to his room. He can sleep it off. No biggy," Emmett says, handing Rosalie a room key. "I'll be up in a few, babe. Don't fall asleep on me." He waggles his eyebrows at her, and she hits him on the behind as he takes off to assist Sam.

Jacob and the rest of Sam's band wander into the lobby, singing away to some unrecognizable song while Alice continues to take pictures. Jacob is extremely drunk, but happy and seemingly content. I find myself smiling at him and am glad that he has enjoyed his evening, even if it was nothing I would have chosen for myself.

"Checking in, sir?" the man behind the front desk asks while I set Isabella's backpack down beside my luggage.

"Yes. Two rooms, one under Cullen, one under Sw—"

Isabella jerks down on my shirt, squeezing my hand in the process. I look down at her, staring into wide, hopeful eyes. She slowly shakes her head at me, biting down on her bottom lip as realization hits me.

I turn back to the front desk attendant and say in a low, shaky breath, "Just one room."

Chapter end notes:

Hmmm. Just one room, Numberward? *Gasps*

Thoughts?

Twitter: CarLemon

Chilkoot Charlie's–Yes, it does exist, and yes, it does have a room filled entirely with bras and underwear, and interesting pens.

www(dot)photobucket(dot)com/albums/xx267/CarLemon/By%20The%

Great Alaskan Bush Company- Believe it or not, it exists.

Hotel Captain Cook-Also real and wonderful panoramic views to enjoy.

Anchorage: www(dot) photobucket(dot)com/albums/xx267/CarLemon/By%20The%

Two Pina Coladas- Yeah, I know you were singing it. Lyrics by Shawn Camp, Benita Hill, Sandy Manson, 1998