Past Un-Earthed

By Jeff Stott

Two teenagers meet in downtown D.C. One is human, at least he thinks. The other is from Lateo, and would never fall for a human—at least she thinks. Josh is inexplicably drawn to Mari, who is perfectly beautiful, yet perplexingly secretive. He doesn’t think twice about their “coincidental” meeting.

Yet Mari had been stalking Josh for days—she needs him, Earth’s survival needs him. While Josh struggles to confront his tragic past, filled with dead parents and moments of unexplained superhuman strength, Mari struggles with whether to love an inferior race, and how to avoid the Lateoan Agent who is trying to kidnap her back to Lateo.

Past Un-Earthed is a young adult science fiction piece that explores the tension between love and fear, and does so through the separate accounts of Josh and Mari. Can real love be obtained without suffering? Can it triumph fear as a motivator?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jeff Stott
• Release date: Sep 13, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301799572

Jeff Stott

When I was little, my siblings would ask me to write them short stories as birthday/Christmas gifts. I even wrote a one hundred page story when I was ten. I would tell people that I wanted to be an author when I grew up.Now, having written my first novel, I feel just as excited about writing. I'm currently an attorney, working on a second novel in my spare time. Before law school, I studied English with an emphasis in creative writing. My favorite classes were those in which my "homework" consisted of writing a poem or short story.

Book preview

PAST UN-EARTHED

By

Jeff Stott

Copyright 2012 Jeff Stott

Smashwords Edition

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed for any commercial or non-commercial use without permission from the author. No alteration of content is allowed. If you enjoyed this book, then encourage your friends to download a copy.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Prologue

Section I: HIS STORY

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Section II: HER STORY

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Section III: THEIR STORY

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

PROLOGUE

Wait, let me get your door, Josh said as he unbuckled his seatbelt. He walked through the falling snowflakes and around the front of his brown Toyota Camry, peering through the windshield at her face. She blushed with a radiant smile as she observed her hand. Josh could tell she was playing with her pearl ring, rotating it back and forth around her finger, as if welcoming an unaccustomed feeling. Six small diamonds encircled the pearl, each one capturing then releasing the light as she twisted the ring. Above her head, specks of light danced about, as if reflecting off the ripples of a pond. He opened her door, offering her his hand as she stepped out.

I can’t wait to tell Jessie, Mom, Kristen — everyone! she exclaimed.

They were not engaged. He had only given her a promise ring. Even then, Josh wasn’t sure if it was right, or if she was right. But he felt compelled to rush things, to bury the past year as soon as possible. He told her he would marry her someday, just not for a few years, after they had grown up some more. After all, he was only eighteen, and she was only seventeen.

Josh led her through the glass doors of a small boutique. It was warm and fresh inside, with honey-sweet fragrances that pervaded his lungs. They casually walked to the front counter, and Josh rang the bell for assistance. He turned his shoulders to face Emily, the girl with whom he was to spend the rest of his life. He heard another girl come walking out of the backroom. That’s when Josh froze. He recognized her voice before even looking up at her face.

How can I help y— the girl stammered, stopping abruptly as she looked at Josh. A small stack of cards that read Forever Mine slipped through her fingers like a sloppy magic trick, past her apron, and collided with the cold, tile floor. Josh’s eyebrows burrowed as he quickly looked down at the marble counter.

This can’t be happening, he thought. This is the last thing I need right now.

She’s so beautiful.

Uh yeah, we need some flowers, he said, keeping the silence short. Her dropping the cards surprised him since he had never seen the girl be anything but elegant. She didn’t make mistakes.

Who am I kidding? he thought. She’s one giant mistake.

Eleven red roses, Emily chimed in. She looked directly at the girl behind the counter in anticipation. I bet you’re wondering why eleven and not twelve?

The girl ducked under the question to pick up the scattered cards. She bent over carefully, with one hand on her back, and let out a staggered, slightly audible breath. Her nails scraped the ground, until the cards were back in her hand, though some remained upside-down. Looking confused and nervous, she squinted at Josh, then turned toward Emily. Suddenly her entire complexion changed as if the previous question had echoed off the back wall, bringing with it an understanding of the situation. "It must be because you complete the dozen," she stated with no tone of inquiry.

Have you heard that before? I hadn’t. Josh — she glanced happily up at him — told me that right before he gave me this promise ring. See? She extended her arm over the counter with almost a violent speed that would cause any normal girl to blink and bend her head back. But not the girl behind the counter.

I need to get out of here, Josh thought. I need some fresh air.

I need her back.

Huh. A pearl. Really? The girl glanced from the ring to Josh. It was the first time their eyes made contact since the conversation began. Her eyes, so big, sparkled like a shard of glass; her stare just as sharp. He was captured, back to where he was — he never left. Everything resurfaced, so forcefully that his insides felt like they were being tugged out like a fish on a hook. He was stuck in her magnetic eyes, which yanked at his metallic gaze, like so many times before.

Josh suddenly realized that he had been standing there staring for what felt like hours, perhaps weeks — or maybe just a second too long. It was awkward. He blushed, and trying to recover, he quickly said, Yeah, so can we get those flowers?

Honey, let her look at the ring, Emily scolded, looking at the ring herself. It’s just perfect. You know why he got a pearl? He told me it’s because our love is unique...um...like organicky and growing just like a pearl does. It’s sooo perfect. Have you ever seen a pearl ring? She spoke with more and more enthusiasm.

Yeah. Just one, the girl replied with a smirk. Her eyes stayed glued to Josh’s. When are you getting married?

Is she angry? Josh thought. Wait a second, I’m the one who’s angry. I’m the one who left. He glanced down at her stomach, where a bulge was visible behind her apron. She must have been at least eight months pregnant. Josh knew this because he knew exactly how long it had been since he last saw her: six months. Plus the two months before she told him that she was pregnant with another man’s baby. Her pregnant self reminded him of how those two months were filled with her lies and cheating, of why he didn’t love her anymore.

But I do, he thought. I can’t. I need to leave. I’ve moved on.

No, I haven’t.

Uhhh...we aren’t sure, he hesitantly said.

In a few years. Josh never breaks his promises, added Emily.

The girl finally broke eye contact, snapped like an icicle, and stared at the marble counter. Wow, she muffled, looking hurt.

She should, Josh thought. She deserves it. It’s not my fault...but I can’t just leave her like this, look at her. He wanted to comfort her, protect her, make things better. But he couldn’t, for it was her fault.

The roses? he asked. It was now hot and stuffy in the little boutique, despite the fresh flowers all around.

The girl turned away swiftly and walked into the backroom.

She doesn’t act very excited, Emily whispered to Josh. But I guess she doesn’t need to because this is just for me and you. Oh, I can’t wait to tell Jessie! She went to clasp onto his left arm but he shrugged it away as he reached for his wallet. He pulled out fifteen dollars and set it on the counter.

"So why are you getting flowers now?" the girl asked from the back room.

Well, that’s the part I’m not going to tell people, Emily answered. I accidentally left the original roses on the top of the car just before we drove down here from Fenwick Island. Oh, and can you make sure to put a pink ribbon around them? Josh always adds a pink ribbon when he gives me flowers.

I already got one on there, said the girl as she walked back into view. She knew him all too well.

Josh was still too shocked to be embarrassed. Who could blame him? The girl across the counter was his first love, his only love, and if he wanted to love somebody else, then he had to try to do everything over again, exactly the same. Just with a different girl. Emily happened to come along when he needed someone new.

Josh shuffled across the room and held the door open.

The girl behind the counter handed the dozen flowers to Emily. Oops, one too many, said Emily, surprising everyone else in the room with her suddenly obtained observational skills. She pulled out one of the roses and set it on the counter. You can have it. Have a nice day!

The money’s on the counter. Thanks, Josh mumbled as he motioned for Emily.

We want to make sure that we have everything just as it was when he gave me the ring, so we can re-enact it while taking pictures, Emily called out as she left. Isn’t he so sweet to buy me a whole new set?

Yep, replied the girl. Sweet as pumpkin.

*****

We have to talk, Josh told Emily as he parked his Camry on the side of the road just blocks from the boutique. He turned the engine off and peered into the evening skyline. It had stopped snowing, and all the neighboring houses had Christmas lights dangling about. He could hear a dog barking in the distance, and a mom yelling for her kids to come home. He always pictured starting a family in a suburban neighborhood like this.

What’s wrong, Hun? Aren’t you happy? Emily asked with a curious look. She never was one to be observant. A toddler would have noticed the awkwardness at the boutique.

Josh thought about how little he actually knew about Emily. They met each other eight months earlier, when Emily started working at the same diner where Josh worked, and they had only been dating for three months. To Josh, Emily was a naïve seventeen-year-old, who had dreamed of her wedding since she was eight. All she lacked was a boy — the rest was well planned out, from the colors to the cake. Josh knew they were just filling in each other’s gap — not in the romantic way, when two people complete each other, but in the superficial way, when not much is needed but a body.

His knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel. He had suppressed the truth for so long that his body could not physically take it anymore. He felt ill. Trying to contain his emotions was like trying to cap an active volcano. It was time to let the steam out.

I’m in love with another girl. Well, more than steam; a full on eruption.

You’re what? Emily gasped, her head snapping to attention.

I’m in love with another girl. Incredibly in love.

HIS STORY

Chapter One

It happened only three times in Josh’s life. Once on the street in front of his house, once in a high school lunchroom, and once at a small diner. Only three times did he inadvertently use his gift, if it can be called that. A gift of incredible strength.

The first time happened when he was ten years old.

*****

Josh set the book down on his chest. With a heavy breath, the book slid off and onto his tidy bed. The pages fanned together as the bent cover came to a halt with the words The Hobbit written on top. Josh’s imagination faded away, his eyes refocusing from dark, troll-filled caves to the sunlit blue painted walls of his bedroom.

There was a knock at the front door — five quick, evenly spaced pounds that he would forever recognize. He pictured his best friend, Jonathan, waiting at the doorstep in overalls and a white t-shirt.

Josh jerked to his feet and ran out of the room and down the hallway. He never walked, but always ran through the hallway, a conduit between playtime and bedtime. He opened the door and found what he expected — only topped off with a Red Sox cap.

Hey, wanna play? Jonathan spoke with a high, boyish voice, which suited his round, freckled face.

Yep, Josh said as he stepped out onto a wooden porch. School was out for the summer, and Jonathan came over almost every day to play. The two boys met a year ago when Josh moved across the street. He had spent all ten years of his life moving from place to place, going wherever his dad needed to work. This was the first neighborhood Josh had lived in for more than six months, and he and Jonathan were best friends — not necessarily by choice. Josh was an only child, and Jonathan was the youngest of six kids, there being a four year difference between him and the next oldest. Furthermore, the two were the only kids in the neighborhood, which was old in many aspects. The neighbors consisted mostly of widows and retirees. The streets were wide and covered in web-like tar lines, and the trees provided lots of shade with their decades of overgrowth.

That morning the streets were quiet as usual; all Josh could hear was a garbage truck making its clumsy way down the street. It was a beautifully sunny day, but Josh was too young to care about taking note of the weather.

"I know what we should play. Let’s pretend we’re The Hobbit." Josh still had trolls lurking in the back of his mind. He knew Jonathan would like the idea, seeing how Josh had borrowed the book from him.

I like it. Except we need a ring.

It was true. Imagination was great, but there was no need to use imaginary props if real ones were available.

Wait here, Josh responded. He stepped back inside and ran toward the kitchen. Earlier that day he had watched as his mom poured liquid soap over her finger in order to release her ring. It was the only ring Josh had ever seen her wear, and that morning was the first time he had witnessed her take it off.

Once in the kitchen, Josh spotted the ring above the sink, right where his mom had carefully placed it. There it sat, a dull band of black. As simple looking as rings come. Although Josh had played with it many times while on his mom’s finger, the ring looked like a foreign object the way it sat alone, in its entirety, a full black circle against the bay window’s white tile. He knew his mom was downstairs staining a wooden rocking chair she had made, and his dad, during one of his rare days off work, was in the backyard repairing a broken sprinkler. No one would know if he took the ring for just a little while.

He reached across the empty sink and snatched it up.

Back on the porch, Josh showed the ring to Jonathan.

Whoa, Jonathan said. The bangs of his brown hair curled up under the rim of his cap as his eyebrows arched. Where did you get that?

Josh ignored the question. He pivoted the ring back and forth with his index finger and thumb. It was heavier than he expected. But there was no time to examine the ring. Doing so cut into his playtime with it.

Josh slipped the ring onto his index finger. He had to bend his finger inward to keep it from falling off. He playfully shook his entire body, pretending there was a surge of electricity that swept through him after putting on the ring.

Where’d you go? Jonathan said, playing along. He looked around the porch as if surprised.

Josh grabbed Jonathan’s hat and ran down the porch steps. If you want to catch me, follow the floating hat! Josh knew that Jonathan hated when people stole his hat, but a floating hat was a different matter. Sure enough, Jonathan laughed and took off after his hat.

Josh darted across the lawn. He noticed the garbage truck approaching from the next-door neighbor’s curb. He stopped momentarily on the sidewalk and turned around. I need this hat to protect me when I face the dragon! He pointed to the garbage truck.

Josh turned as Jonathan slid to a stop in the middle of the lawn. The grass blades bent and glistened in the sunlight, wet from his dad’s recent sprinkler test run.

But I don’t want you to slay the dragon! You see, the dragon and I are friends. Without him I can’t terrorize the village! Jonathan was now looking Josh directly in the eyes. Apparently, he had forgotten that Josh was invisible.

With this protective hat and my magical ring, I will protect the village treasure from his grasp! He placed the cap on his head and sprinted over to the tall black garbage can against the curb, a garbage can that now became a treasure chest. He stood with his arms outstretched, protecting what he imagined was a black chest full of gold coins and rubies. The machine-like dragon growled and snarled as it jolted toward Josh, only a driveway’s length away. Its large claw was spread out near its side, ready to grasp and crush Josh’s body against his treasure chest.

Your powers are useless against the mighty dragon! Jonathan taunted. The metallic dragon was only a few feet away, snorting out fumes and making the most noise this neighborhood had seen all day.

Josh tightly held onto the treasure chest’s lid, but only for a few more daring moments, as long as his imagination could fend off reality. The dragon turned back into a garbage truck as it got close, dangerously close. Just as Josh was about to relinquish his position, the garbage truck swerved to the right and passed him.

Ha! I did it! Josh exclaimed. I saved the treasure from your filthy dragon! Jonathan, still in the middle of the lawn, looked as though he wanted to celebrate Josh’s remarkable victory. But he held true to his character.

I’ll feed your head to him! He ran at Josh, who held his ground next to the treasure.

You’ll never get what’s in this treasure chest, Josh said, his arms crossing in front of him.

Who ever said I wanted your garbage? With that, Jonathan grabbed his hat and ran back toward the house. Josh ran after him, except when he first stepped from the street’s asphalt to the glistening lawn, his extended foot never caught hold. He slipped until his back end hit the ground, his arms flailing behind his head. He got right back up.

He could hear Jonathan giggling a few feet away. What a clumsy hero.

Josh pinched and pulled the back of his shirt outward. It was now wet and clinging to his skin. He bent over and brushed a few grass blades from his legs.

That’s when he noticed his ring-less hand.

Oh no, Josh muttered under his breath. Timeout. I lost the ring... He stared down at his hands, spreading his fingers in disbelief. He forced himself to not think about the possibility of never finding it. Those were consequences that he’d rather not imagine. Instead, he went to work. It’s gotta be close. Help me find it. Josh knelt down in the grass and began combing his fingers through the thick mat of green blades.

The ring was very special to his mom. He didn’t know much about it, other than that his dad gave it to her. But he knew it meant a lot to her just by the way she twirled it in place around her ring finger whenever she was happily pondering, and by the way she rubbed it gently when she missed his dad.

There it is, said Jonathan, who was now standing on the curb and pointing downward. Josh barely heard him over the sound of the garbage truck next door. He looked up in excitement, then ran to Jonathan and looked down. He too saw the ring. The only problem was that the ring had fallen down a barred-off rain gutter, located between the garbage can and the distancing garbage truck. Each bar was painted red, and the middle area had been bent close together from the weight of garbage trucks and mail trucks. He remembered losing other things in this very rain gutter — a paper boat, Popsicle sticks, a racquetball. His mom’s ring sat on a clump of soggy leaves, a few feet below the street’s surface, like some pitiful cellmate.

I’ll see if I can reach it, Josh said, mostly to himself. He didn’t pay any attention to the sound of an empty garbage can crashing down at the neighbors.

Let me try. I’ve got longer arms than you. It was true. Jonathan was two years older than Josh and a good four inches taller, something Josh never liked to admit.

"Ok, but be careful. We can’t lose that ring," Josh warned. He watched as Jonathan undid his suspenders and turned his hat around before kneeling down on the asphalt. Jonathan then reached his skinny arm between the widest part of the rain gutter’s red bars. He reached all the way until his cheek was pressed firmly into the grate, his face turned toward Josh and the garbage can.

This time Josh noticed the sound of the garbage truck. A loud repetitive beeping noise turned on, splitting the air, and its rear lights flashed red. It shook briefly like a dragon drying off, then began rolling backward.

Uh, Jonathan. The garbage truck is headed toward us. We need to move.

I’ve almost got it. Jonathan’s arm stretched further, the ball of his shoulder twisted slightly.

No, really, Jonathan. The garbage truck — it’s backing right at us. Josh could smell the garbage truck’s rotting rear end. It stunk of spoiled milk, old socks, and exhaust. He could hear the tires crushing bits of asphalt as the truck rolled toward him and Jonathan, all while the piercing beeping got louder and louder.

He grabbed Jonathan’s t-shirt. Jonathan, let’s go!

But I can feel it — just one more second. There weren’t any seconds to spare. The garbage truck was twenty feet away, its wheels on path for the boys.

This time Josh screamed. Get up! Don’t be stupid! He began to panic. He yanked on Jonathan’s shirt.

I’ve got it! Jonathan exclaimed. He pulled his face away from the metal bars in an attempt to sit up. But he couldn’t sit up all the way.

That’s when Josh realized the true horror of their situation. Not only was the garbage truck ten feet away, but Jonathan’s arm was now caught in between the bars at his elbow.

Jonathan was trapped.

Chapter Two

I’m stuck! Jonathan yelled. He yanked awkwardly, unsure what to do. Josh stood up, grabbed a hold of Jonathan’s shirt, and yanked with him, only to tear his shirt in half down the back. He then grabbed Jonathan’s shoulder and pulled some more. The beastly chunk of twisted metal came towering toward them.

Stop! Josh yelled at the unforgiving machine. Stop! his voice swallowed up in stench and engine noise.

Get the driver! Jonathan yelled at Josh. But Josh knew it was too late for that. The truck’s rear now hovered over Jonathan’s head, the dual wheels crushing their way foot by foot. Acting on some inward yet never previously tapped instinct, Josh stepped behind the truck and placed his hands on the grimy base of its back end. He dug his heels into the street and pushed with all his might.

It looked quite pathetic, really. A twelve-year-old boy stuck in a rain gutter, screaming at the top of his lungs. His peer, a ninety-five pound kid pushing back at a thirty thousand pound garbage truck. The rest of the neighborhood completely quiet, unaware of this struggle for life between two boys and a demolishing machine.

Yet there Josh stood. Pushing. Feeling fear for the first time in his life. Activating some internal burst of intensity, his bones and muscles and brain all concentrated together to accomplish one thing.

And it worked.

The garbage truck stopped. Its parts moved, against each other and against a greater force, but the truck no longer covered any distance. The wheels kept spinning, screaming, begging obnoxiously to move on. The friction between them and the asphalt was itself exhausting and deafening, especially inches away from Jonathan’s upper body. The engine too let out some cranky coughs, sounding frustrated and confused. This lasted only a few seconds before it quit all together. Gears were switched, the beeping halted, and the red lights flickered out.

Josh quit pushing as soon as the metal stopped pushing back. He opened his eyes, unsure of what just happened. He relaxed his muscles, his arms and legs shaking like a tuning fork. He bent down and looked under the truck. Jonathan’s head was buried in his chest, the dual wheels close enough to lick. He too was shaking, more violently, his eyes clenched closed and waiting.

Jonathan, Josh said, his voice quivering. The engine was still too loud for him to hear his own voice. He grabbed Jonathan’s shoulder. Jonathan looked up, startled. His head shook just as uncontrollably as the rest of his body.

Come on! Get out of there. Josh said, this time louder than the truck. He bent down and looked at Jonathan’s trapped arm. He carefully slid it back toward the curb where the space between the bars was wider. Jonathan’s arm came loose. Both boys then crawled out from under the chaos and stumbled on to the safety of the lawn. The same wet lawn that started it all.

A greasy looking man dressed in a gray jumpsuit climbed out of the truck’s cab. Whadda ya boys up to? the man asked, barely pronouncing his words. Both Josh and Jonathan stayed quiet, trying to recover.

It ain’t safe ta be playing near the street. He was using words that should be scolding, but his tone was nonchalant. The man walked around the side of his truck, bent down, and examined the axle. What’s got into ya, he mumbled. He placed his hand on one of the wheels. Smells like burnt rubber. He then walked around to the street-facing side.

Josh had finally calmed down, but he wasn’t ready to emotionally process what had just happened. Though one thing he wondered was whether Jonathan knew. Whether Jonathan saw him pushing. After all, his eyes seemed to have been closed during most of the ordeal.

Josh looked to Jonathan. Jonathan sat with his head on his bent knees, crying fervently. Now there was time to cry. But Josh held it in.

Let’s go, Josh said, still watching Jonathan. They got up silently.

Wait, Jonathan said. He was still too shocked to be embarrassed about crying. He reached out a shaky hand. In his palm was the ring.

Josh took it, and without another word, they departed —Jonathan heading back to his house, taking an unnecessarily wide route around the garbage truck, and Josh walking up the porch stairs.

*****

Once inside, Josh witnessed more tears. This time coming from his mom, who was searching frantically around the kitchen. Her cheeks were red and shiny from wrist-smeared teardrops.

What’s wrong, mom? Josh asked, realizing exactly what was happening as soon as he asked.

I’ve misplaced my ring. I knew as soon as I took it off... She sniffled as she sifted through a jar full of spatulas. Can you help me find it?

He certainly could. Should he tell her he took it? Or should he pretend to find it?

Get in trouble? Or be a hero?

Yeah, Josh answered. He immediately felt guilty, but he played along, pretending to search the ground near the sink. Part of him was grateful that she was so distressed; too distressed to notice that he himself was unsettled.

Josh’s dad wandered into the kitchen. I scoured every corner in the bathroom. It’s not there. Andrea, are you sure you didn’t take it downstairs? Josh’s dad looked every bit as worried, only without watery eyes.

Positive. I could’ve sworn I left it above the sink.

Well, we could always buy you a new one, Josh’s dad said, looking defeated.

His mom then broke down into more tears, covering her face with her hands. His dad moved toward her to embrace her comfortingly. Her words came out chopped and smothered, Of course we can’t, you know that. That ring is irreplaceable.

Josh couldn’t stand to see her cry anymore. He stood up. Here it is! I found it. He held out the ring to his embraced parents.

Oh, Joshua! Thank you so much! His mom left her position next to Josh’s dad and hugged Josh endearingly. She took the ring and placed it on her ring finger with a sigh. Where did you find it? she asked, placing her hands lovingly behind each of his ears.

On the floor under the sink, Josh lied. It was the first time Josh had ever full-fledge lied. It wouldn’t be the last, but he would never lie to his mom again.

He looked up at his dad, who looked skeptically back at him.

I looked there, she said, her face tilting in bewilderment. But I guess your young eyes are much better than mine. I’ll tell you what — I’ll make whatever dinner you want tonight, just name it. I owe you. She hugged him again. With her chin on his shoulder, Josh could clearly see his dad’s reaction. He remained standing, sort of half-frowning at Josh.

Lasagna. And Caesar Salad. Josh couldn’t back down now. Any other answer would look suspicious.

You got it, she said, rubbing his shoulder gently.

With all three in the room, one could tell that Josh got his sandy blonde hair, blue eyes, and dimples from his mom, and his narrow nose, thin lips and angular face from his dad.

"I’m going to finish