I could not walk away without giving you something that resembeld the first day of school, so... short, I know but for you all... Hope you enjoy and thanks for all your kind reviews... Stay with me as the best is yet to come:-)

Chapter 7

Tom, Doug, and Dennis Miller approached the front door of Waylon County High School. Tom had a nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach that today was going to be a very hard day for them. The school was literally in the middle of a very large corn field at the corner of four roads. There was a sea of Purple jackets with gold leather sleeves pushing into the school. The students looked like the students that they saw everyday. There were jocks, geeks, pretty girls, and people of all kinds. There were the blue and yellow corduroy jackets of the FFA reading "Waylon" on the back in large yellow letters. That was something they had never seen before. Tom stared at the sea of people in cowboy boots and Wrangler jeans… how the hell did he get here?

"Well boys, I can't say that this was the best choice of attire for you Tom, but, you will defiantly draw attention to yourself, Dennis, you will too. But like you said, you are from Juno, Alaska."

"Juno huh…" Booker looked ahead as he stepped coolly out of the back seat of the vehicle. "The Beach Boys wrote a song about the Mid West farmer's daughters didn't they?"

"Make you feel alright…" Doug quoted.

"Booker, these are high school girls." Hanson scolded.

"Yep, I can look… can't touch… but I can sure look." Booker stated back like a robot.

Dean shook his head. "Boys, move it." He ushered the boys past the girls and into the school building.

The building was older, built in the late 1930's with the new addition added in the early 1970's. Dean ushered the officers forward into the principal's office.

"Dean!" The secretary's face lit up. "Who do you have with you?" She looked the three officers up and down. "You're not from around here, are you?" She raised and eyebrow at Tom.

Hanson looked back at her, his face never cracking. "No ma'am." He stated back

"Helen, I mean Mrs. French; these are my nephews Tom, Dennis and Doug Miller. They are my sister's boys and they are staying with Angela and me."

"Well Dean, we'll get them fixed right up." She smiled back. She was an older lady who was lost between the decades. She had been the secretary at the school since she was twenty-five. Her hair was a dyed lemon yellow and her lips were painted bright pink. She had "cat eye" reading glasses attached to a cord. She smelled very strong of coffee and perfume.

"Well, look at this… appears that everything is in order and ready to go. Boys, here are your schedules. Doug and Dennis, it looks like you and your uncle have a meeting with Coach Ballard in fifteen minutes, so you can stay here. Tom, your first class is English with Mr. Tolle, room 215… upstairs and to the left. Here is your locker assignment, and the combination."

Tom took the slip of paper and looked down at it. Band, eighth period… GOD it was gonna be a long day. He didn't even have a study hall. Chemistry, Advanced Math… 'SHIT' he thought to himself. 'I like being an under achiever when I'm on assignment. This means homework.'

"Tommy," the voice brought him back to reality. "You be careful and call me if you need anything. You have my wireless number, right?" Dean looked at the younger officer.

"Uhh, y-yeah…" Hanson looked back up at Dean Miller.

"Go on son. You're already late. I will call if there are any changes with your mother, OK." Dean patted Tom on the shoulder.

"Sure… thanks Uncle Dean." Tom smiled back at Dean. Looking at Doug and Dennis the two other officers had taken a seat in the two remaining chairs by the principals officer.

"See you at lunch Tommy." Doug winked at his partner.

"Knock'em dead kiddo." Dennis cocked his eyebrow at Tom.

Running his fingers through his hair and letting out a deep sigh, he headed down the hallway hoping he would not get lost on his way to deposit his saxophone in his locker and then onto his first class. He folded his schedule up and stuck it in his jacket pocket. He was carrying a second slip of paper to hand to Mr. Tolle when he arrived at his destination.

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