That night would be the last one he spent in her bed for a very long time. He had waited for her to come home all summer long, and each night that he lay in his room staring at the ceiling, he wished he was staring at her shiny hair or her little nose or her eyes flicking back and forth under her closed lids. Sleeping two people to a twin bed probably should have been uncomfortable, especially now that they were both getting so much taller, but it just wasn't. He always felt much better rested climbing out her window than he did getting out of his own bed. Later on he would realize it was the place he felt the safest, but for now it was the place he got the best sleep. And now she was finally back. Finally.

But for the first time, Allison told him he shouldn't sleep in Leah's bed. His mother had come home to an empty house and went to fetch him when he didn't appear for dinner. She had meant to have a talk with him that very night about the inappropriateness of sleeping in a girl's bed at his age, but she had no idea Leah would be back so soon. She had intended to talk to him alone, but it was probably just as well that Harry and Sue were there too so they could provide backup. The kids would surely protest.

And protest they did. Sammy was normally a very level-headed and even-tempered child. His bad moods normally consisted of withdrawing into himself, although Leah always seemed to know how to coax him back out of his protective shell. Since his father had left, Allison hadn't seen him lose his temper a single time. Not so when she showed up at the Clearwaters' door to retrieve him. At first he didn't even realize what she meant when she asked him to come home; he obviously had every intention of getting pajamas and walking right back. She stopped to explain that no, he should come back in the morning and let Leah get some good rest in her own bed. He didn't take the hint (no thanks to Leah, who said she'd been dying for a sleepover with Sammy for weeks).

Allison exchanged an uncomfortable glance with Harry and Sue and tried again. "Actually I think you and Leah might be getting a little old for sleepovers, sweetheart."

Leah laughed at that and grabbed Sammy's hand. Allison picked up on the subtle pink tinge to her son's ears at the gesture, but Leah didn't. "No way! Sleepovers are great! Going to Emily's was like one giant sleepover, and it would have been perfect if Sammy had been there. We can stay up and watch a movie and make popcorn!"

"I don't think so, honey." Sue shook her head.

"Why not?" Leah asked. "It's not a school night or anything. We've got another week until school starts. We have to take advantage!"

"The movie and the popcorn are fine," Harry clarified.

Allison nodded. "Just not the sleepover part."

Sammy narrowed his eyes. "Wait, so I can be here late and hang out here but not stay?"

"That's right," Allison hoped that would be the end of it. "As long as Harry and Sue say it's okay."

"Of course!" Sue answered.

"Just come home when the movie's over."

"But why do I have to leave after the movie's over?" Sam was incredulous. He couldn't care less about a movie or popcorn. He wanted to be with his LeeLee.

"You should sleep in your own bed," Allison explained.

"Why?" Leah asked, perplexed. She tugged on Sammy's hand and pulled him even closer than he already was. "We just want to hang out. We haven't seen each other all summer long! We have months and months to catch up on!"

Sue chuckled. "What about all those letters you told me about? I think the two of you must have already written two full length novels about what you did for the summer and sent them in the mail."

Sammy raised his voice in protest. "It's not the same!"

"You'll see each other again tomorrow," Allison tried to reassure him. "It's only for a few hours."

"Exactly! It's hours," Leah sighed dramatically. "And we've already been separated since forever, and we have to make up for it!"

"Sorry, princess," Harry jumped in. "You'll have to make up the hours during the day."

"What's the difference?" Leah still didn't get it, although Sam was beginning to understand. He just didn't like it.

"Boys and girls your age don't sleep in the same bed," Sue explained.

"But we did just a couple months ago!" Sammy was getting angry. The debate went on and on, Leah becoming more distressed and Sammy more irate. Harry wisely fabricated an excuse to leave, taking Seth into the kitchen to get ice cream, once he realized that there was no way his wife was allowing a hormonal teenage boy into bed with his not-so-little-anymore baby girl. Voices were raised and words exchanged until Sammy yelled, "I need LeeLee! I always sleep in LeeLee's bed!"

"Not anymore you don't," Allison said firmly, effectively ending the discussion. "You have two choices. Stay here for a movie and then come home, or come home now. Which is it?"

"The movie," Sammy sulked.

Leah looked disappointed and was obviously going to keep protesting, but Seth popped in to ask what movie, and Sammy grumbled, "I don't care."

Allison went home first and waited up for him, hoping that by the time he came home he'd have calmed down somewhat.

He apparently had. Or she thought he had, anyway. He greeted her with a kiss on the cheek and said he'd go back first thing in the morning and was that okay? And she was relieved. She had been afraid she'd have to have the sex talk with him, and in preparation she even thought to dig into Joshua's old, leftover alcohol stash to work up the nerve. But apparently she'd get to wait a little longer.

Very little.

Sammy was being overly solicitous. He had absolutely no intention of sleeping in his own bed. He'd never before asked for permission to go to Leah's in the middle of the night, and he wasn't about to start now, not when he'd been missing her desperately for weeks. But he was going to be prudent. This time he didn't just wait until Allison's bedroom door was shut. He actually peeked in on her before he left. He had a good hour to wait, so he fabricated a decent excuse in case she was awake when he opened her door. He piled on thermal underwear, a long sleeved tee, three sweatshirts, and two pairs of sweatpants before climbing under the down comforter that normally lay bunched at the foot of his bed in the summer. After fifteen minutes he was certain he'd given himself a plausible fever. He waited and waited and then gave it an extra half hour. His mother had been in her bedroom for at least forty five minutes when he stripped back down to his normal tee shirt and boxers, faked a shiver, and crept across the hall to gingerly open her door.

Her breathing was even, slow, and deep. He tiptoed forward and leaned over her. Nothing happened. He waved his hands in front of her face. Nothing happened. He stuck his tongue out and crossed his eyes. Nothing happened. She was completely asleep. He grinned to himself and left as carefully as he had entered.

Five minutes later, he was climbing up the trellis. Leah had the window open before he got to the roof. She had her index finger pressed up against her grinning mouth in a "shh" gesture; apparently Sue had apparently just peeked in to ensure that Leah was alone in her bed. They both hoped it would be the only check for the night; this was much later than he usually arrived.

As Leah scooted back to let him in, he tried to keep himself from staring at her too blatantly. She was wearing a red tank top with three stars embroidered across the top and matching cotton shorts. He'd seen her in this exact same outfit dozens of times before, but it felt like he was seeing it for the first time. The skin of her exposed shoulders looked smooth and soft, almost as smooth as the slim legs she had tucked under her. But either she really had grown or the shirt had shrunk in the dryer, because now there was a hint of her stomach peeking out from under the shirt, and oh, was that her bellybutton? It was dark, but yeah, he was pretty sure that's what that was. It was even more tempting than her dimples. He childishly wanted to stick his finger in it, and he not so childishly wanted to run his hands over the soft looking skin of her belly. Crap.

He dragged his eyes away from her little waist, but that was a mistake. Because between her midriff and her face lay his downfall. Her breasts. Was it his imagination? Or shadows? Or were those the outlines of her nipples? Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap. He was staring at her, wasn't he? Stop staring stop staring stop staring. Was his mouth hanging open? He shut it abruptly and swallowed. Why did he have so much saliva in his mouth? What possible purpose could that serve? Saliva was for eating, and he definitely wasn't here to eat Leah. Was he? Oh god! Now he was thinking of nibbling on her boobs! Stop it stop it stop it!

His mouth had dropped open again. He closed it shut tightly, pressing his lips together in an attempt to seal himself shut. And she had totally noticed, because when he finally pulled his eyes away from her breasts, her head was tilted to the side and one of her eyebrows was raised. Very quietly, she asked, "Sammy? Are you okay?"

He nodded mutely, but it wasn't good enough. She knew him too well, and by the skeptical expression on her face, she knew he was withholding something. "I really missed you," he said truthfully.

Her expression turned all melty and sweet. "I missed you too!" she whispered and leaned forward, throwing her arms around his neck in her exuberant way. He made the mistake of glancing down, and wow. Those were some short shorts. And there was her butt. When did it get so round? Was it always that way? Surely he'd have noticed it before now. But then again, her pyjama shorts were shrinking and showing her off in a way they never had before.

Thank goodness he was sitting on his heels. Because those soft breasts of hers were brushing against his chest again, he was sure of it, but his shins on the bed and his knees running into hers prevented her from rubbing up against his hard-on, which once again felt huge. Uncomfortable too, actually, because it was wedged down awkwardly between his thighs when all it wanted to do was point at her again. It hurt a bit in this position, but he'd take the discomfort any day over the horror of having her accidentally brush up against it. Would she know what it was? Would she ask him? He would die of shame if she did. Unless she wanted to touch it, in which case... Stop it stop it stop it!

He breathed shakily into her hair, and she started to pull away. Nope, he wasn't going to let her move. Not yet, not when he was afraid that shifting of any kind was going to push Li'l Sammy right through his fly to try to say hello and ruin their friendship forever. He squeezed her tighter.

"Aw, Sammy." She relaxed and rested her cheek on his shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere, not anymore. You know I'd never really leave you, right? I'll always come back to you."

Her gentle tone settled him down in every way, and after a minute or so, he nodded and let go of her.

"D'ya wanna go to sleep now?" she asked. He nodded gratefully and yawned, suddenly exhausted. The weeks apart from her had taken their toll. His yawn triggered her to do the same, and then hers triggered another one of his, and they giggled at each other as they crawled under the covers.

But he couldn't figure out the best way to lie down. On the one hand, he wanted to keep her as close as possible, keep as many parts of him pressed against as many parts of her so that his sleeping body would know with absolute certainty that she was right there. But on the other, he wanted to lay on his side far enough away that he could look at her for as long as he could stay awake. She often fell asleep before he did, and he loved the time directly after, when he could stare at how pretty she was without fear of being caught. It never lasted long, of course; his own fatigue quickly overcame him, but he loved those minutes nonetheless.

Tonight she decided for him. She apparently wanted to look at him as much as he wanted to look at her, so they faced each other and blinked sleepily at each other until, for once, he fell asleep first.

X-x-x-x-X

The next morning he found out why he wasn't supposed to sleep in her bed anymore. Probably he should have seen it coming after their reunions the day before. He woke with the rising of the sun, but it was something else rising that prompted him to wake.

Even though they had fallen asleep facing each other and several inches apart, they hadn't stayed that way for long. Sometime during the night, either she had rolled over and scooted backward or he had pulled her toward him. Either way, the end result was his other preferred sleeping position: his entire front pressed against her. Or more specifically, wedged against her buttocks.

Sammy was still asleep, but ohh... that felt good. He tightened his arm around her waist and tugged her even closer. Mmm. That was nice. Nicer than nice. What if he... Mmm... That was... That was... He should definitely do that again. He tightened his grip. Oh... It... That... That was so good. Again... Mmmm... It... Mmm... Again... Oh... Oh... Oh!

His eyes popped open. Oh no. Oh shit. Oh fuck. He was such an idiot, and he was so, so, so dead.

This. This was why their parents didn't want him here. Oh crap. Did Harry know he was in here? Were her parents waiting on the other side of this door to ambush him? Did Harry keep his rifle loaded? Did he just get her back only to blow it and get killed the very next day? Haha, he said "blow it"! But no, now was not the time to get hysterical! He was dead. He was so, so dead.

Oh who cared about anyone on the other side of the door! What about LeeLee? Was she awake? He couldn't see her eyes. Were they big and wide and shocked and appalled? He couldn't see! But her breathing was kind of shallow. No no no no no. Could she feel him? Of course she could feel him! He obviously didn't have a really weirdly shaped set of keys stuffed into his boxers, now did he? And she wasn't an idiot. He was the idiot! He needed to move and get it away from her before she ended their friendship forever. But what if she was really asleep? What if she was asleep right now, but as soon as he moved, she'd wake up, and then she'd feel him? Then he'd ruin everything for no reason! Then she'd kill him herself, she wouldn't need Harry to do it!

Damn it! Go down go down go down. Haha, he said "go down!" No, he had to quit thinking about that! He had to quit it! Go down, no, go away go away go away! He thought about raisins and prunes and deflated balloons and getting violently murdered by Harry.

It wasn't working. Why wasn't it working? Why?

Because he was still pressed against her, that's why. He was never going to get out of this alive if he didn't move. So he gingerly loosened his grip on her waist and shifted his hips backward. That was smooth, right? Not obvious at all, right? He was just shifting, right? She was still asleep, right? He let go of her. Okay, better. But he couldn't pull entirely away because she was lying on his other arm, and Leah's new and improved body apparently had a very straightforward and irreversible effect on his body whether or not he was actually humping her, because he was still pitching a tent in his boxers. Go away! Now!

But he was stuck. Stuck in the most perfect place in the whole world, actually, but stuck nonetheless. She was lying on his arm, and he was just going to have to live in this embarrassing state until she spontaneously moved off him, was that it?

Go away before she wakes up and kills me!

It wasn't working, although he was no longer quite so afraid she was awake and about to kill him, because he'd be dead already. But she might be awake and torturing him knowingly.

Finally he decided he just had to bite the bullet and move. He carefully started extracted his arm. Okay, that was it. Yeah. It was working. Slowly, carefully... Oh, her breath skipped! Don't move don't move don't move go away go away go away...

Huh. Nothing happened. He gingerly began to remove his arm once more. And... almost... so close... Yes! Freedom! Life! Not getting murdered by Harry or Sue or Leah (or heck, by Seth)! Yes!

He scooted as far away from her as he could get, which was not far in the little twin bed.

"Sammy?" she mumbled. Crap!

He froze again.

She rolled over and opened her eyes. Oh hell, he was dead!

But then she smiled at him. "Gonna get going?"

"Uh..."

"Do you want to try to get home before your mom notices you're gone?"

That was a great reason! "Uh huh." But was it safe to get out of bed? Was he going to accidentally poke her in the eye with it as he climbed out of the covers?

"It's not even six yet. She won't be awake yet, will she?"

"Probably not."

"Good. I don't want you to get in trouble. But I'm so glad you came over!"

"Me too."

She leaned over to hug him goodbye, but he stopped her with a hand. "What's wrong?" she asked, confused.

"Uh... morning breath?"

One side of her mouth lifted in a quizzical smile. "So? I was going to hug you, not kiss you."

"Oh." And damn, now that she mentioned it.

"You're a big silly, Sammy!"

Bigger than you know, he thought. But actually... Not so much anymore. He had started deflating when he started talking about morning breath. Thank god.

Allison was waiting for him when he got home, and she was glaring at him.

"Samuel Levi Uley!"

He cut her off before she could get any farther. "Don't worry mom, it's not going to happen again."

It was probably his despondent expression that turned her from angry to concerned. "What, did something happen? Is everything okay?"

His answer was short and clipped. "Fine."

"Fine fine? Or hey get off my back mom fine?"

"Fine!" he snapped.

"Is Leah okay?"

"Yeah, great," he muttered.

"But you won't be sleeping over again?"

"No! Can you please drop it, mom?" His tone warned her off, which only made her more persistent. She followed him to his room, sat him down, and Sammy suffered through the most awkward and excruciating conversation of his entire life. By the end of it, he had tried to suffocate himself with his own pillow and inadvertently swore off sex until he, or more specifically Leah, was thirty.

X-x-x-x-X

After that, Sam couldn't look his mother in the eye for about a week. That morning he didn't even make it back to Leah's house until she called at lunchtime wondering if he'd gotten grounded, as she had expected him back for breakfast. He was terrified of his body's reaction to her, and talking to his mother about it only made it worse. He changed into no fewer than four different outfits trying to figure out which would best hide the evidence, and then he went back to see her.

Leah was babysitting Seth, which helped immensely. The boy was entertaining and distracting, and he desperately wanted Sam to help him climb the tallest tree in the backyard instead of his sister (which was silly since Leah was still unquestionably the best tree climber in La Push). When it started to rain the three of them took snacks and playing cards up to the treehouse, and Seth basically didn't stop talking the entire time.

Better yet, Leah was wearing a shapeless, loose shirt and baggy jeans. He thought about his own prolonged attempts to find the right outfit and wondered if Sue had specifically made her put on these particular clothes. He actually kind of hoped it was Sue's idea, because if it wasn't, it might mean that Leah herself really had felt his hard-on shoved against her backside and was worried about a repeat performance.

On the other hand, when she asked him if he'd be back at the same time that night, it probably meant she hadn't noticed anything (or it meant, impossibly, that she liked it, in which case he really was a dead man). Now he was thankful that Allison had caught him that morning. He told her he really couldn't come over at night anymore and exaggerated how angry his mother had been (while entirely skipping over the hideous sex talk). Leah looked terribly disappointed and decided to hug him fiercely in a display of loyalty, which was really really nice because he got a chance to feel against his chest what he'd been failing to spot under her shirt all day long, especially since his position and the perfect pair of shorts rendered his reaction invisible to her.

Nice. He was getting a hang of this, wasn't he?

X-x-x-x-X

Actually no, he wasn't. It only got worse. Sam had hoped that as he got used to his body's new reaction to Leah, it would get better. The little demon in his pants (it was going to get bigger, wasn't it? And not just in the way that it did when Leah was around?) was trying very hard to get him in trouble. He learned how to position it safely, because when it decided to rear up its evil head and take a look around, he refused and forced it to stay hidden. Initially he thought that that meant it should point down, not up, because then he might even be able to wedge it between his legs. But then that happened once (Leah dropped her pencil on the floor and she bent down to get it), and well, ow! Apparently it didn't bend that way, who knew? So no, it had to go up. Straight up was best, because he could hide it behind the fold of his zipper and fly. Too far to the left or right and the bulge was asymmetric and obvious. Once when she showed up to his house wearing a fitted scoop neck top, he had to have an entire conversation with one hand awkwardly shoved in his pocket. He was pretty sure she noticed, too, although he didn't think she knew why he was so very stock still. Then he quickly learned what he should and should not wear around Leah: briefs, not boxers. Slightly baggy pants with belts, never low-riders. Untucked shirts.

Was this why he was the only boy he knew who had a girl best friend?

Bobby and Johnny all but confirmed it one Friday night when Leah was having Emily over for a sleepover. He was sitting on Bobby's couch hunched over an Xbox controller. Bobby was sitting in a funny little chair on the floor which he swore was supposed to be specifically made for video games. Johnny was perched on the coffee table eating chips noisily and watching them play Madden while waiting not very patiently for his turn to take on the winner.

"I think I got a glimpse of side boob in gym class today," Johnny announced.

Bobby didn't look away from the screen, but he answered, "Oh yeah? Whose?"

"Either Becca's or Rachel's. I still can't tell them apart."

Bobby grinned either way. "Nice! The twins are hot!"

But Sam was skeptical. "How'd you get a look at that? The girls aren't allowed to wear tank tops in gym. Plus wasn't there a bra?"

"Baggy sleeves, dude!" Johnny explained. "She picked up her arm to reach for the ball and I caught a quick peek!"

"What color was her bra?" Bobby wanted to know.

"White," Johnny answered definitively.

"Not bad, but Rachel and Becca don't have that much to show off yet. So I think you got a glimpse of bra, not side boob," Bobby answered. "Too bad it wasn't Leah. Now that would have been something to see."

Sam's tongue tangled in his mouth as he tried to figure out what to say. He was pretty sure Leah wouldn't like his friends talking about her like this, but if he defended her too quickly they'd start harassing him about his "girlfriend" again. Instead he decided to deflect attention away from her. "Stacy's are bigger."

Johnny snorted. "Yeah, but only 'cause she's all chubby. She's like two of Leah," he paused to illustrate by holding his hands out to approximate her girth, "but less than half as hot."

Bobby agreed. "Yeah. Leah's like a 10. Stacy's boobs may be bigger, but she's, um, maybe a 4. Probably even lower if it weren't for the boobs."

Sam wasn't sure if he should be angry or if he should agree. She really wouldn't like being ranked, would she? Even if she was being ranked at the top? And she'd be pissed at him for talking about Stacy that way. He felt guilty, but the words had already come out of his mouth. Johnny jumped in before he did. "Leah's not a 10. Megan Fox is a 10."

Sam barely stopped himself from automatically arguing that no, Leah was an 11 (Megan Fox was an 8 at best because she looked kind of like plastic-really attractive plastic). Bobby clarified. "Okay, sure. But of all the girls you've ever actually seen in real life, who's the hottest?"

"Alexa," Johnny answered immediately.

Sammy disagreed silently. The answer was still Leah. Although maybe he thought that because he was the only one of the three of them who had ever seen her in her pyjamas and without a bra on. He wanted to keep it that way, so he kept his mouth shut. Bobby laughed, "Fine. But she's a senior. She's basically a grown up, and if you think you have a shot with a senior in high school, go for it!"

Johnny took this the wrong way. "You didn't ask me who I thought I could get with. You think I have a shot with Leah though? She's our age, and she's got hot boobs. And a hot face. And a hot ass."

Bobby actually looked away from the game, inadvertently allowing Sam to score a touchdown. "Are you crazy? Sam's sitting right there! She's his girl!"

Sam and Johnny simultaneously yelled that Leah wasn't his girl, but Johnny took this to mean that Leah was fair game.

Thankfully Bobby thought that was hilarious. "She's way out of your league, man. Just like Alexa. But, you know, good luck to you! Make sure to let me know when you ask her out, because I want to hear how she shoots you down!" And Sam was deeply thankful that he didn't have to straighten out Johnny by himself. What would he do if Leah started dating somebody else? It was unthinkable.

Then Johnny asked him a question he hated. "So why isn't she your girl? She's crazy pretty, she's got a great rack, and for some reason she doesn't think you're a total tool."

"I don't like her like that!" he insisted. He was pretty sure he wasn't fooling anyone, but it couldn't hurt to try. "She's like, she's like my sister!"

Bobby took advantage of his distraction and scored a touchdown of his own. "Still hung up on Lily?"

Was it better to let them think he was obsessed with some older girl he couldn't care less about? He didn't want to trade being teased about Leah for being teased about someone else. "Nah. She's nice to look at, sure, but so are a bunch of other girls."

"Yeah? Like who?" Johnny persisted.

Sam shrugged and picked the first other girl that happened to spring to mind. "Olivia's pretty cool."

"Oh!" Johnny decided this was a very meaningful answer. "So you're not with Leah because you're stuck on Liv!"

He protested, but now there was nothing he could do about it. By the next day the entire school thought he had a crush on Olivia. And to his mortification, on four separate occasions over the next week he caught Liv staring at him with a little smile on her face. He was so mortified by what he had done that he didn't make the connection with Leah's sudden bad mood.

X-x-x-x-X

Sam managed to avoid Olivia, who thankfully was too shy to do anything more than peek at him from across the room. But he couldn't stay away from Leah if he tried. He had learned to sleep in his own bed, sort of, but that didn't stop him from racing out of the house early to make sure he walked with her to school, and his favorite part of day was the afternoon when school let out and he went to her house until Allison was finished at work.

It was Seth, charming little Seth, who instigated the next drama. Her little brother was even trying to do them a favor. It was a Saturday night and Emily was visiting. Sam never knew exactly what to say to Emily, and Emily definitely didn't know what to say to Sam. They were both shy, and each of them was most comfortable talking to Leah by themselves. Sammy no longer resented Emily the way he had when they were little, but she seemed scared to talk to him. That made him nervous to talk back to her, and he could never figure out what to say, and the more he tried to figure out what to say, the harder it became. And on more than one occasion, he had felt the sensation of eyes on his back and turned to find her blushing and looking away, and he was pretty sure she'd been staring at him. It made him nervous. He felt about her like he felt about every girl who wasn't his LeeLee: girls were practically aliens, and he didn't know what to do with them.

But he no longer felt like avoiding Leah just because her cousin was visiting. He wasn't about to let the other girl come between him and his best friend, and Leah basically begged him to come over so they could all spend time together. She was impossible to resist, so he stopped trying.

The three of them watched a lot of movies. They all liked them, and better yet, Sammy and Emily weren't expected to talk to each other when one was on. Tonight it was James Bond. Sammy and Leah were curled up on her couch with a bowl of popcorn wedged between them. Emily was huddled under a blanket in Harry's recliner, and Seth was on the floor. Sam would rather have had Leah as close as possible instead of the big bowl, but he had learned his lesson about the potential for embarrassment with close physical proximity. Seth had already eaten his fill of the salty snack and went to get a glass of soda to quench his thirst. He offered to bring back root beers for everyone, and Emily and Leah both accepted.

He approached his sister with not two but three glasses precariously suspended between his small hands, and being the thoughtful boy he was, he was watching the liquid very carefully in order not to spill it. Which meant that he didn't see the magazine that had slipped to the floor. Which meant that he went careening forward when he stepped on it. Which meant that the dark liquid shot forward from his hands and landed all over Leah. Which rendered her yellow shirt transparent. Which meant that Sam found out that Leah wasn't wearing a bra. Oh god.

Sam fled the house when Leah went to change. He ran past his mother and claimed to be covered in sticky soda (it wasn't a complete lie, he had the stain on his shirt to prove it). He locked himself in the shower, and for the first time in his adolescence, he was unable to resist the urge to think about her while he... while he... oh god... oh LeeLee... oh god... LeeLee... LeeLee... Leah... Leah!

It was the first time, but it was far from the last.

X-x-x-x-X

A/N: Thanks again to Babs81410 for being a great beta. All mistakes are mine.