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If Only Everything
If Only Everything
If Only Everything
Ebook380 pages6 hours

If Only Everything

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Despite their vast differences, Ash Morrison and Canon Lear meet and fall in love in their small home town. Together, they dream of conquering and leaving their stamp on the world, if only they can shake off the ties that are holding them back. But the real world seems to be a dangerous place for dreamers. After the attacks on 9/11, Ash and Canon may need to rearrange their lives together before they've even had a chance to explore their options. Can a crazy ex-girlfriend, backstabbing friends, jealousy, and a family secret so deep keep the two love struck teens apart for good?

LanguageEnglish
PublisherM M-Stewart
Release dateJan 22, 2013
ISBN9781301526178
If Only Everything
Author

M M-Stewart

Hey there!M M-Stewart is my name.Moni, for short.I love to travel and do new things.Karaoke is my jam.I am a big music and film buff.I currently write romance, sci-fi, fantasy, and a dash of horror and drama.I am looking for author representation.

Read more from M M Stewart

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    If Only Everything - M M-Stewart

    If Only Everything

    M M-Stewart

    Copyright 2013 M M-Stewart

    Smashwords Edition

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    *If Only Everything*

    American Honey

    Teenage Wasteland

    America’s Sweethearts

    Teenage Dirtbag

    About the Author

    Find me online

    Questions

    April 2003

    Marching at the front of his convoy, the sun was beaming down on Ash Morrison, evaporating the sweat underneath his fatigues before it even got a chance to bead and drip down his skin. One hundred pounds of ammunition, explosives, radio equipment, weaponry, and medical supplies he’d been trained to carry effortlessly around in this Godforsaken wasteland, and he’d yet to see a trace of the enemy. His bright eyes were scanning the bleak horizon, looking for hostiles cowering behind sand and boulders, searching for cover or shade, but not really looking at all. His mind was wandering back. Slipping back to old memories he swore he’d tried to bury. Back to all the things he wished he could erase. Back to the first time he’d ever seen Canon smile.

    The comforting sound of the rolling tank’s wheels crushing rocks and boulders slowly behind him began to disappear. His ears began to hum, low at first, and then there was a deafening squeal. He looked to his left, stunned to see his Sergeant yelling at him, the familiar sight of his bulging artery and his sweaty red neck was the next thing that alerted Ash. As if on instinct, Ash’s hand tightened around his weapon’s neck, and his finger caressed the trigger. He couldn’t tell at first what his superior officer was yelling, just his mouth directed at Ash, his sunglasses shaking on his face, his head rolling back as if to warn him.

    Warn him.

    He could feel the sand shaking violently beneath him. He could feel the whisper of dirt and debris whizzing past his cheek. There was a flash of white light. He could feel the sun beating down on his bare scalp as his cover was blown away. He could feel himself being lifted into the air, his feet kicking at nothing while his body was thrown against the ground. Still that high pitched hum piercing his ears, first like pins dropping on a cold lonely floor, and then like a frantic speeding freight train crashing and colliding into a brick wall. He couldn’t feel a thing, but his mind was slowly beginning to understand. Upon his impact, his body had created a deep crater in the sand. Even if he had been able bodied enough, he still wouldn’t have been able to pull himself out. He blinked in and out of consciousness, the feeling in his nerve endings beginning to come back. Slowly he pulled a hand in front of his eyes, mesmerized that he still had all of his digits, broken nonetheless. The gaping wound in his chest was not so lucky, however, and he peered down and watched a pool of blood begin to gush down the front of his sandy fatigues. A twisted metal rod protruded out of his chest. A lung was punctured, he gathered, as he spat up blood, the stuff oozing out of his mouth and down his chin. The pain was slow and deliberate, like someone poking him with the tip of a pen. And then it was there all at once, like someone was slowly stabbing, gutting him with the pen in between his ribcage, pushing and pushing until it broke skin, and all of his insides came pooling out in a sticky red mess.

    He knew that he was lucky. He knew that even this small portion of pain was bearable for now. He knew that soon after, he would feel it all over and that would be it. Lights out. His hearing continued to buzz in and out of reception. He heard the sporadic burst of automatic gunfire. He heard frantic yelling and screaming. He heard another explosion, but he couldn’t tell if it was closer or farther away than the one that had blown him away. He smelled rubber burning; he tasted more of his blood. He couldn’t see anything out of his right eye, but he felt that that side of his face was hurting, the pain slow at first, and then all at once he felt warmth, and then a hard heat. And then the stench of his skin, his own flesh burning, cooking, infiltrated his nostrils. He reacted immediately, beating the smolder of his face with his palms, his broken fingers wiggling painfully, but to no avail. His mind was fried. He was puzzled and disoriented as he tried to pull the rod out of his chest, not realizing that is was the broken axle piece of an insurgent’s vehicle. He tried yelling for a medic, but knew that his voice couldn’t carry over the urgency of his surroundings. The pain and shock of his wounds rushed him all at once, and it took all of his might not to scream just to release the edge off.

    So he gritted his teeth, let his thoughts wander back, that stupid sub consciousness tap tap taping on his shoulder, bringing back all sorts of things he wished he could change. At this point, he welcomed death. But before he could take his last breath, he wished to reminisce just one last time. His memories helped him drift away from the pain, from the oncoming wrath of death breathing down his neck. His memories gave way to guilt and regret, and he wished for just a second he could be at peace. If only he could’ve been able to change so many things that made her leave him in the end. If only he had had more time.

    American Honey

    May 2001

    Seventeen year old Ash Morrison wiped his sweat soaked forehead again with the back of his forearm and blew out a sigh mixed with exhaustion and boredom. His curly blonde hair was pouring down his face in damp loose strands from the thick air, and was matted to his temples in wet clumps. He was surrounded by the buzzing of nearly seven hundred other hot and exhausted inhabitants at Bear Creek Park. Above them, thick, solid, and tall sequoia trees hung from the sky, their canopy intertwined, building a ceiling of leaves and thick branches that little sunlight dared to peak through. The humidity, however, was motionless and heavy, like a wool blanket covering up the edges of the budding summer. It weighed on his impatience making him even more restless. He looked at his wristwatch once more and blew out another sigh. It was only two o’ clock in the afternoon. His junior year of high school had ended at noon, but the show that he had been dying to see all school year wouldn’t be for another forty-five minutes.

    It was a Friday. South Medford High School was celebrating its graduating class of 2001 by having a carnival for the petite town of Medford, Oregon. A Ferris wheel revolved on the horizon, cotton candy and funnel cakes ensnared their sticky sweet smell throughout the park. Primary colors clashed smartly against tie-dye T-shirts, short denim shorts, dark sunglasses, and visor caps. He was surrounded by his neighbors and classmates, and everyone seemed to be having an amazingly good time. All but Ash, whose chest was hurting and his skin felt like it was boiling in the heavy air. He grabbed at his chest and closed his eyes. He tried to blot out the excited screams, the cheered laughter from the neighboring playgrounds, and the country music that was twanging from the amphitheater. He could feel someone tugging on his shirt, but he ignored it as he tried to calm himself and his heavily beating heart. His doctor warned him that it would be like this sometimes, he reminded himself. The anxiety would pass and he would be fine, he just had to remember to breathe. But he was breathing; the air from his lungs came out ragged and cluttered in his throat, and when he inhaled, his chest swelled and he coughed and sputtered.

    Ashley!

    His blue eyes popped open and he stared back down at the bright steely gray eyes of his present girlfriend, Kayla Victor. She was petite, with large melon breasts that he liked to nuzzle against whenever he got the chance. Her hips were narrow, but she kept a lovely curvy backside from her many hours of studious cheer leading practice. Her hair was copper blonde and long, cascading down her shoulders and ending in waves that paralleled the Pacific. Even though she was only seventeen, her voice was deep and dripped in sex, making it very difficult to disagree with her. At the moment, her pretty face was pinched with impatience. He coughed a little, but she didn’t bother to ask if he were all right. Come on, she purred, her soft voice drenched in fresh honey. I want you to win me a prize.

    She tugged and pulled on his arms and he suddenly remembered where he was. His friend, Myles Fulgham swatted him heavily on his back, as if to bring him out of his sweaty trance. Myles was half a foot taller than Ash’s six foot frame, and his arms were wider and much more defined. This was a desired trait since he was Ash’s main defensive blocker on the football field. Ash stumbled forward, almost falling over from the impact. Myles laughed. You here, buddy? he kidded, and Ash tried to smile back. The swelling in his chest wasn’t gone, but it was beginning to be on its way. Ash could move his feet, and followed nonchalantly behind his girlfriend. To keep his mind off his persistent indifference, he watched Kayla’s nearly perfect round ass switch back and forth like a tantalizing pendulum. He knew that he was one lucky son of a bitch for having such a hot girlfriend, but even those hot sweaty thoughts weren’t enough to keep his impassiveness at bay. His thoughts drifted to fantasies about the new school year that would be coming up in three months and how eager he was to get it over with. He was the star quarterback of his high school’s football team; college recruiters from all over the states of Oregon, Washington, and California would be coming to watch him play in the fall to seal his fate and to kick start his dream of escaping his small home town. His smile became wider at this reassuring daydream, and the burning agony in his chest began to fade away a little more.

    Kayla stopped, turned and Ash watched her breasts jiggle in her low cut pink shirt. Normally, he was much more tactful than at present, but he was trying to keep himself from being bored to death and melting in the heat. His chest gave a sharp pain, and he grimaced. Kayla finally noticed, a rarity of concern striking across her face. What’s wrong, baby? He nodded at her attentiveness, and grabbed at his chest. I’m fine. I’m just gonna go get a drink.

    He saw her eyes crinkling at the corners, and another jagged twinge went through him. She continued to pout. Baby, I really want a prize. He looked up at the booth that she had dragged him to: Hit the moving ducks and win a prize. There was no doubt that he could hit a target from nearly eighty yards away. He had the best arm South Medford High had seen in about twenty years, he could remember his coach telling him. However, at the moment, he felt that his chest was about to implode from inside his ribcage, and he was beginning to become annoyed that his girlfriend didn’t seem to notice or care that he was obviously in a world of hurt.

    I’ll win it for you, Kayla, Myles pitched as he stepped up beside the coveted beauty. Ash watched as his friend’s eyes darted from Kayla’s cleavage and back to her stony gray eyes in a matter of seconds. At any normal time, Ash might’ve felt a minute pang of jealousy, but at the moment he didn’t feel anything but the sharp pain in his chest again. Thanks, he said anyway. As he was walking away, Kayla shouted after him, Oh, and babe? Bring me back a drink, too, okay? He chose to ignore her as he grunted and grabbed at his chest once more.

    The many doctors that he had visited for his reoccurring problem didn’t know what was wrong with him, except that he had an acute anxiety problem that resulted in shortness of breath and sometimes fatigue. Ash thought that it was something more, but he never badgered the doctors, fearful that he would hear something that would result in him stepping off the football field, and ending his potential chance of winning a scholarship out of Medford. So he took the pills that they prescribed him and tried not to wander into too many stressful situations. He hadn’t been having too many problems until Kayla had asked him out two weeks before the end of the school year. He dealt with the pain because Kayla’s tight, bouncing cheerleader body was sometimes worth the pain.

    He wandered through the crowd aimlessly. People walked by and recognized him and shook his hand, clapped him on his back, took pictures with him. He tried to muster up a smile, but could not keep it for long. He found himself standing behind four other people at a booth that specialized in smoothies. He ran a hand through his damp hair, wiped the sweat on his board shorts. He looked at his watch. Half an hour to go.

    The girl in front of him caught his attention almost by accident. She wore cut off blue shorts that were tight and accentuated the thick roundness in her hips. Her flabby stomach was bare. He was stricken with awe at her confidence and impressed that she was unapologetic about her boldness. She wore a black bikini top that was clumsily tied around her stretch marked back. The acronyms Q.O.T.S.A in white around the loose bow were what caught his attention and he genuinely smiled for the first time that day. Queens of the Stone Age, he said out loud. She turned around slowly, and Ash nearly lost his breath again.

    Her skin was flawlessly cocoa butter brown. Dampness from her sweat created a light sheen, a powerful glow of beauty that struck Ash, catching him off guard. She had chubby cheeks that framed her face like a perfect round picture when she smiled at him, and this is when he noticed the dimple in her cheek. He noted a small glint of jewelry in her nose. Her hair was long and raven-like black with streaks of dark blue and neon pink throughout. It was pinned to the top of her head in a sloppy ponytail. The tiny bikini top was doing its best to hold in her large bust, and Ash didn’t mind watching the battle. They were certainly more than a heavy handful, but she did her best to hold her posture and keep her shoulders straight. It made him smile some more, despite his loss of oxygen. He forgot that he wasn’t breathing and sucked in a long breath before resting on her eyes. He felt like an idiot gawking at her, but he couldn’t help himself. He had never met a black girl with crazy colored hair and blue eyes before.

    Not a lot of people know what those letters mean, she told him, her dimple deepening in her right cheek. She wasn’t smiling, just grinning a little. She did crazy things to his insides when she grinned, he noticed.

    When Ash felt that he had successfully removed his foot from his mouth, he forced a polite laugh to regain what little composure he could muster. Nervously, he ran a hand through his coiled hair, and stupidly felt the bustling of butterflies fluttering in his stomach. I’m a big fan, he replied, silently willing his fluttering stomach not to embarrass him in front of the cute girl. They’re pretty much the only reason why I came to this stupid carnival.

    She laughed politely and he watched adoringly. She had a beautiful mouth that deserved to be kissed all the time, he thought. Her lips were plump and covered in a tinge of red at the moment, and he imagined sucking on them and her moaning into his mouth. He tried to shake himself awake. What the hell was wrong with him, he wondered. She nodded at him. I love their music, too. I was worried that I might be the only one in the crowd excited about them.

    He tried to keep his attention on her face and not solely on her body, but it was getting to be nearly impossible. He was finding it extremely difficult to look at her almond shaped, azure blue eyes that seemed to glow against her dark skin. She had one hand on her hip, her leg jutting out to support her weight, and he realized with the jean cut offs she wore that her thighs were incredibly thick. He thought that they could easily be wrapped around his waist and entrap him in the right heated moment. Ash had never met a girl with such soft thickness throughout her body, and the newness was causing his mouth to run dry from excitement. But it was her subdued grin and the dimple in her cheek that kept choking him up. She was bold, unapologetic, quietly aggressive in her stature, and her confidence almost frightened him in a way. He avoided her eyes like the plague whenever she looked at him, and the butterflies in his stomach weren’t doing much to stroke his ego. He tried to clear his throat and motion towards the smoothie booth. They were next in line, and he looked at her for a millisecond, having completely forgotten about the burning in his chest. What flavor do you want?

    She was taken aback. Oh, no. You don’t have to do that.

    I insist.

    She shrugged, accepting his chivalry. Strawberry and banana.

    Ash put in the order, and gave the vendor a ten dollar bill. He handed her the creamy concoction and followed her out of the line to beside the booth. Suddenly, he couldn’t hear anything surrounding them except for whatever came from her mouth. The pain in his chest was gone. I don’t have their newest album, but I do have the one before, he said, and she nodded her head, her messy ponytail beginning to become undone, and Ash was perplexed when she didn’t stop to fuss with it. He watched as the tail part lightly brushed the nape of her neck. He was bewildered by how she was beginning to become comfortably undone in front of him, unlike Kayla who had to stop and primp herself every five minutes.

    I do, too. I’m borderline obsessed with this band, and then some, she said and then sucked on her smoothie. He tried to keep from fantasizing about her lips as they puckered around her straw. Don’t tell anyone this or I swear I will hurt you. She grabbed a hold of his forearm and stared up at him in a mockery of a threatening way. She stared straight at him and Ash had no choice but to stare back at her. Her eyes really were blue; he couldn’t detect the outer edges of a contact lens whatsoever. The blue was dark and fulfilling, stunning just like her complexion, he decided. She was four inches shorter than him and he had nearly eighty pounds of muscle on her, but he nodded his head and acted threatened anyway to humor her. You don’t even know who I am. But sure, I promise I won’t tell anyone.

    The grin slyly began to spread its way onto her pretty face, making her dimple deepen. I know who you are, Ash Morrison.

    He laughed, not really surprised that she knew who he was. He was a football star, after all. That’s not fair. You know my name, but I have no idea who you are.

    Her grin was still in place and it was beginning to drive him batty. We could play a game and you could guess my name, she tried coyly, or you could just ask me nicely.

    She made him smile, and hardly anyone ever made him really smile. I think I’ll take the easy way out and just ask you politely.

    I’ll wait patiently.

    He cleared his throat and began one of his best recited lines: My name is Ashley Morrison; my friend’s call me Ash. I’ve noticed that you’ve got a great smile. You obviously have amazing taste in music by the acronyms on your bikini top, and I think that’s incredibly sexy. It would be an honor if I could learn your name, please. He gave a grin of his own, and she burst out laughing. Wow. You should be lawyer. You talk way too smooth for me.

    He shrugged his broad shoulders and used his straw to stir his smoothie. Generally any other girl would’ve had her panties around his neck by the end of his approach, but Canon just smiled and laughed like it didn’t bother her at all. He was a little hurt, but intrigued even more. I won’t doubt that. You have to give me credit for being honest, though.

    You have been credited, sir, she said with a nod of her head. Canon Lear.

    He nodded, letting her name settle into his mind. He wanted to be sure that he did not forget it. That’s original.

    Why, thank you.

    They began to stroll through the crowd and Ash was buzzing with contentment. Suddenly, what had once been a too hot and humid day was beginning to be an oddly pleasant day as he walked alongside his new friend and her incredibly curvy body. For a moment, he was undetected as he watched her walk from behind. Her backside definitely put his teeth on edge, and he had to shake his head in appreciation before returning to her side again. He nudged her with his elbow and brushed against her shoulders. She looked up at him, sucking on her smoothie, her lips perched and puckering on the tip off the straw again and it made him smile. Normally, any other girl he would’ve taken the opportunity to tease him, but Canon chose to be as innocent and as sweet as her smile. What was that promise that I was supposed to be keeping, again?

    Oh, yes, she began, and he watched as her long hair grazed the nape of her neck again. He couldn’t help the sexiness she exuded without having to do much at all. I’m madly in love with Joshua Homme.

    She’d caught him by surprise, and before he knew it, he’d burst out laughing, a record that normally wasn’t broken throughout the day. His laughter seemed strange to his ears, but he couldn’t help himself. Joshua Homme was the lead singer of Queens of the Stone Age. He was a thick-muscled guy with red hair, over six feet tall, and he always had a cigarette dangling from his bottom lip. His guitar skills were amazing and hypnotizing. His falsetto voice and his stormy, dark lyrics were drug induced and robot-repetitive, but Ash loved his style all the same. Canon’s secret made him laugh. There were always a slew of girls hanging out in the front row of the band’s concerts throwing their panties up on stage at the up and coming rock star. Somehow, Ash couldn’t imagine Canon doing that. That’s something I’ve never heard of, he said smartly, and she neatly punched him in the shoulder and that made him laugh again. The love tap didn’t hurt; it just bemused him that she had done it. People always seemed so enthralled with him, but Canon treated him like he was a normal person, not a marble statue to be worshiped. It’s not funny, she said, grinning all the same. I think I could get Josh to marry me. Look at me. She twirled around and Ash was pleased in the moment with her permission to admire her curvaceous body. She was unkempt, bosomy and beautiful, and Ash nodded with approval. I don’t know why he wouldn’t fall madly in love with you, too, with a body like that.

    She stopped twirling and grinned again. She reached up and took one of her long fingers and slowly dragged it across his chin. She stared up at him, her blue eyes mirroring his, and Ash felt his body melting at her touch. You’re drooling, Ash, she said, her voice low and deep, vibrating in his ears, and slowly her face broke into a wide smile.

    What the hell, Ash?

    He whipped around and saw Kayla with her hands on her hips and a very despondent look on her pretty, tanned face. I thought you were going to get us drinks, she spat. Her eyes stopped on Canon, and Ash began to think if looks could kill, Canon would be an incinerated pile of dust and bones at that very moment. He looked up at his girlfriend with a loss for words, and saw out of the corner of his eyes his friend, Myles, trying to keep from laughing out loud.

    He hated that his fun was over, and blamed his blonde haired beauty. Reluctantly, he grabbed her arm so that they could leave. Kayla, it’s nothing. Come on, let’s go-

    "I will not go, Kayla started, and ended by planting her flip flopped foot firmly into the ground as Ash tried to pull her away. He quickly grew irritated and surprised himself by wishing that she would just go away. Kayla, let’s go"-

    Hi, Kayla, Canon said, crossing her arms over her chest. Ash looked back at her stunned. Not because Canon knew who Kayla Victor was; everyone knew she was the most popular girl in school. Canon, however, made it sound like she knew Kayla personally.

    Kayla glared back at her and Ash stepped away. He jerked his arm back from her, thinking that her skin had burned his hands as she continued to send evil urges across the park at Canon Lear. He concluded that they both knew each other and wagered that perhaps their last meeting hadn’t been pleasant. It’s called a diet. Please try one, Kayla seethed through her thin lips.

    Canon chuckled, but her cool blue eyes never left Kayla’s. She grabbed a handful of her ass and said, Your man sure doesn’t seem to mind all of this.

    Ash wanted to burst out laughing at the quip, but whipped his head around and heard a crowd beginning to form in front of the amphitheater again. He looked at his watch and turned away, having felt like someone had just gut punched him. It was time for the show to begin. He grabbed Kayla’s arm and decided that whatever was going on could be handled at a different venue and at a different time. "Come on."

    He would have heard her screaming that she wasn’t going to be removed from her spot, like she was guarding a piece of her property from Canon Lear, but the crowd was beginning to grow and their excitement was commencing boisterously just like Ash’s. He looked back once more over his shoulders before lifting Kayla up to be carried away, and smiled as he caught Canon looking and grinning back at him. He gambled that he would be seeing her again.

    June 2001

    1. Medford, Oregon, was an average small town with one undersized shopping center, two rival high schools, two large parks; one, a city park, the other a nature walk. Medford was seventy-five miles east of the Pacific Ocean, hunkered deep in between foliage and the Rogue Valley. It was twenty-seven miles north of the northern California border, and if one were looking for excitement in a nearby town, Medford was as far as one might get. The neighboring towns were smaller and the residences from all over came to Medford if they wanted to get out and have a good time. There was an eight screen theater that had cheap tickets and stale popcorn. There was a pizza place that was swarmed with teenagers on the weekends. A diner that served greasy, bulking proportions of breakfast, lunch and dinner sat at the bottom of the hill welcoming people into town. In the heart of township, with its streets still present with cobblestone and brick Victorian buildings, a modernized arcade and the bowling alley ran simultaneously, buzzing with adolescents not yet ready to come home after school. Outside of town were lush woodland areas covered in giant sequoia and redwood trees, framing this homey atmosphere with the smell of pine cones in the fall. Rogue River ran eight miles east of the Medford, and Lake Agate was home to popular summer houses just thirteen miles out of town.

    In the summer, the heat poured off the pavements in the streets of Medford, the wave of fresh ocean breeze did its best to keep a slight wind in the middle of summer. The local Kroger’s was the popular choice of grocery shopping. Ash Morrison only worked part-time there in the summer. He lived behind the customer service desk in his sky blue, wrinkle free shirt and brown khakis from six in the morning until three in the afternoon when his impatience grew intangible and he had to escape before he imploded from boredom. His Dad had been adamant about his son getting his first job in order to instill responsibility, and Ash had been eager to please his old man in any way that he could. He didn’t mind the job; he just hated to be inside and away from his freedoms. Normally, his summers consisted of football practice, partying, and driving to and from his parents’ summer house on Lake Agate. The owner of the store, Mr. Luckett, enjoyed making his life hell. He made him wear his long curly hair in a ponytail, humiliating him. Everyone in Medford seemed to respect Ash for being the town hero, one of its top football players and being a product of one of the few reputable families in the area, but Mr. Luckett seemed not to give a damn about football or the boy wonder in particular. Now, Ash watched the clock on the wall adjacent to the entrance to the store, and tapped his fingers edgily on the customer service desk. It was nearing three o’ clock and the store was empty except for Francine Lloyd at the register and Adam Reed who was just strolling in to relieve Ash.

    Before Adam could greet everyone, Ash had already pulled the rubber band from his hair and had hopped over the customer service desk. I gotta go, man. I’ll see you tomorrow.

    Adam, a stocky, red headed, snub nosed little guy who worshiped the ground that Francine walked upon, had to catch his words before Ash was almost out the door. Whoa, wait, man! It’s not even three yet.

    Ash stopped and sighed, turning around to tower over Adam. Look, bro, there’s no one in the store, and I have to be somewhere, pronto.

    But Mr. Luckett-

    Mr. Luckett can suck it, Ash replied with a little grin. He swatted Adam on his small shoulders and was out of the store before he could hear him say anymore.

    He had driven his car to work, but did not rush to the parking lot across the dismal Main Street to get to it. He was in a hurry to get to the record store around the corner before it closed, and also, to get a glimpse of her again.

    He had searched all through music shops in town for the new Q.O.T.S.A CD that had just come out the day before, but was unlucky in his hunt. He had walked past the record store yesterday after work, sure that they would have the much coveted album. He had almost opened the door to go in to see, but had stopped dead in his tracks when he had spotted Canon Lear behind the register looking prettier than he remembered. He had surprised himself by ducking behind the corner so that he could not be seen, and had trotted back to his car where he had angrily smacked at his steering wheel and scolded himself. Ash Morrison was not one to get worked

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