Nina’s Story….

“You’re making a mistake,” she said to the boy next to her, pointing to something on his terminal screen as he clumsily tapped away at his keyboard.

The boy ignored her. She focused on her own monitor, shaking her head because she knew he was going to find out the hard way that his program wasn’t going to work. “Your loss…” she mumbled under her breath.

She continued to work, ignoring the inane assignment because she didn’t want to waste time making a marquee scroll across her monitor. Nope, she had something more interesting in mind. Her fingers worked and she bit her lower lip as she concentrated, trying to generate the right code in the right order.

“Okay, time!” the computer science instructor called out.

The rest of the class moaned, obviously needing more time in order to finish the test. But Nina smiled and pressed enter, excited to see if her program would work.

“Good job, everyone,” the instructor called out. “Let’s see what we’ve got.” One by one, the teacher logged into the students’ terminals and tested their code. Most of the students were able to complete most of the assignment. Some had a few gliches and other students were able to make the marquee move across the monitor smoothly.

Nina was in the back of the class, so she simply waited, evaluating the other students’ work critically. She wasn’t harsh in her assessment, but her eyes scanned the results, noting areas where the screen might have flickered slightly or the words weren’t centered properly. She knew she had an eye for these things. Math and computers….she “got” them. She understood logic, which was the essence of math. And she could mentally process information in an orderly fashion, like the lines of code in her computer program.

Ask her to read a book, though, and she would become grumpy by the end. Oh, she could do it, but she didn’t like it. Unless it had to do with computers, that is. She liked reading about new programming languages or scientific innovations. The work some scientists were doing with robots she found fascinating. But her English teacher had assigned the class some stupid book about existentialism. Why anyone would need to contemplate the reason for their existence was stupid, she thought with resentment.

But the teacher suddenly called out the boy’s name beside her and he glanced over at her, a smug smirk lighting his boyish features. Nina ignored him. He was tall and handsome, one of the most popular boys in the school. Nina was….well, she wasn’t. She wasn’t tall, she wasn’t popular and boys only acknowledged her because she could help them with their math homework. Other than that, she was basically invisible.

Her eyes caught the dreamy look of Heather Champlain. The pretty girl had blond hair, pretty blue eyes and boobs. Nina looked down at her own chest. Nope, still no boobs. Not that she checked very often. This was ninth grade, well past the point when breasts should have developed. Nina accepted that, if she were going to get boobs, it would have happened by now. She wore a bra, but only because she was so embarrassed to change before gym class without one. Not because she had any need for one.

“Okay, Mr. Hawthorne,” the teacher called out, referring to the boy beside Nina. Daniel Hawthorne obviously thought his code would work just as well, if not better, than his classmates. Nina knew otherwise. She’d tried to warn him, but he hadn’t listened.

“How did your marquee work out, Mr. Hawthorne?” the teacher asked, pressing the keys on his keyboard that would log into Daniel’s system and show the results on the overhead screen at the front of the classroom.

A few seconds later and the marquee popped up, then just as quickly fizzled out. Nothing happened. Blue screen of death!

Daniel stared at the front of the classroom, furious that his program hadn’t worked.

“Better luck next time, Mr. Hawthorne,” the teacher called out. A moment later, he pressed a few other keys. “And last but not least, Ms. Jansen,” he said and Nina’s program popped to life. She hadn’t programmed just a marquee. Her agile fingers had created code that, as everyone watched, made digital flowers bloom across the front of the monitor, their petals falling out of the flowers to form her name. Only then did her name start to scroll across the screen. The rest of the class clapped, in awe of her programming skills. Everyone but Daniel Hawthorne.

“Very good, Ms. Jansen,” the computer science instructor called out above the applause.

Nina blushed, embarrassed by the attention. She was glad that her code had worked, but she preferred to be in the background, not used to the spotlight.

Thankfully, the bell rang at that point and everyone stopped clapping to gather up their books and notebooks, heading out to their next class.

Daniel’s glance spewed hatred in Nina’s direction, but she just ignored him.

“That was super cool,” her friend Maggie gushed as they walked out of the classroom towards their English class.

“Thanks,” Nina replied, feeling pride well up inside of her.

A voice called out from behind her. “Nina, wait up!”

Nina spun around, glancing at the clock on the wall because they were racing against time to get to class. Not that she was in any all-fired hurry to get to English!

“What’s up, Mark?” she asked.

Mark looked at her awkwardly, smiling a bit. “I was wondering if you might like to…um…” he took a deep breath then said, “go to the spring dance with me next weekend.”

Nina looked at him, stunned. Mark? Mark was about three inches taller than she was and maybe ten pounds thinner. And Nina was a string bean, so that was saying a lot! “Um…I hadn’t really thought about going to the dance,” she replied.

Mark shifted on his feet awkwardly. “Well, if you don’t want to go…maybe you and I could go see that Bruce Willis movie that just came out.”

Nina’s smile widened with that suggestion. “I think that would be an awesome idea,” she replied. She bent forward and grabbed his pen. “Here’s my cell number. Text me and we’ll work out details, okay?” she suggested.

Mark looked like he’d just won the lottery as Nina scribbled her phone number on his palm. When Nina and Maggie were once more on their way to their class, Maggie rolled her eyes. “You know that Mark just asked you on a date, right?”

Nina looked down at her friend. “A date? Nah. Mark and I are just friends.”

Maggie looked at Nina’s beautiful features, so delicate because she was thin. “It’s a date. Not a friend get-together.”

Nina and Maggie entered their class, but because they had been delayed, the bell sounded and they slid into their seats just as the teacher stood in front of the class. While her English instructor discussed Samuel Beckett’s “Waiting For Godot”, Nina mentally reviewed the conversation in the hallway with Mark as well as several of her more recent discussions. Could it be true that Mark saw her as something more than a friend? Could he be thinking of her as a girlfriend?

Impossible! She simply couldn’t see Mark in that light and she’d been friends with him for a long time. He was her math buddy, the guy she did her homework with, racing to get their work done and then exchanging papers so each could check the other’s work. It was a fun relationship, filled with healthy competition and lively conversations about computers and technology. Mark wasn’t…he couldn’t…

She sighed and slapped her forehead, wondering why she never felt anything towards the guys in her class. She looked over at Daniel, the captain of the football team and one of those guys the other girls drooled over. Even Daniel she didn’t see as a potential boyfriend. Okay, so Daniel wasn’t a good example because he was just stupid. She admired intelligence in boys.

Of course, she had crushes on boys. But they were guys who were out of her league, like the lead singer to her favorite band or a television character.

Maybe there was something wrong with her. Maybe she liked thinking too much rather than feeling. Of course, feelings didn’t make a whole lot of sense to her. Logic made sense.

Perhaps it was time to start taking her nose out of the books and begin looking around, she thought as she glanced down at the cover to “Waiting For Godot.” She might become a better programmer if she started to figure out the humans who would eventually use her programs.

Brock’s Story….

“This isn’t going to work,” Peter said. Peter was the most anxious of the four boys, always the voice of doom and gloom.

Brock looked at their stick and rock mock-up of the haunted house’s layout. “We aren’t going to get caught,” he assured his friend. Looking at Joe and Nate, he pointed again. “Okay, the skeleton is here,” he said, pointing to the farthest side of the house. “We need to be here when the doorbell rings.” He looked at Peter. “That’s all you have to do. Just ring the doorbell and ask the old man if he wants to buy your chocolate bars to help support the school band.”

“He won’t buy any,” Peter said, shaking his head as if he could see into the future.

Nate snorted. “Of course he won’t,” Nate said. “He never buys anything. He doesn’t do anything with his dirty old money. He’s too stingy.”

Brock laughed. The house wasn’t really haunted. At least, not that they knew. But there was a crypt over near the back wall that was pretty creepy.

Today’s objective was to pick one of the yellow roses that grew near the crypt and get out without the old man finding out. Becky Johnson had promised a kiss to the first guy who could get her one, and Brock intended to be that guy.

“Jeff, whistle again, just to make sure you got it.”

Jeff puckered up and let one loose. “Great!” Brock said, nodding his head for emphasis. “Nate, you stand here and make sure the gate doesn’t lock.”

Nate and Jeff sat back slightly. “Why do you get to grab the yellow rose?” Jeff finally asked.

Brock looked at Jeff. “Do you want to try running across the yard to the crypt?”

Jeff thought about that for a moment, then shook his head. “No way. I’m not getting caught by that old man. I’ve heard he can send out electrical shocks from his fingers that could kill a guy instantly.”

Brock tried hard not to roll his eyes, but the idea of a human being living with electricity running through his body was ridiculous. But if it gave him the lead on grabbing the rose, and getting that kiss, he was all for it.

“So we’re set, right? Nate, you’re holding the door. Peter, you’re distracting the old man and getting him away from the back window by ringing the doorbell. And Jeff, you’re whistling when the window is clear or if someone comes by. Any questions?”

The three other boys nodded their heads, all of them clear on their part of the mission.

“Okay, let’s do it,” Brock said. The four boys stood up in a circle, put their hands into the center and clapped. It was their usual signal that their mission was to begin. Brock ignored the niggling sensation in the back of his neck. He and his friends had gone on several of these missions. They were always up for a dare. This one was especially exciting because of the promised kiss at the end. Becky’s blond curls popped into his mind, not to mention that seemingly elusive shadow underneath her shirts lately. She was wearing a bra! One of the first in fourth grade to do so, which made Becky “sophisticated”.

The four of them broke up and went to their posts. Peter was the only wild card in this mission. He was usually pretty timid, but he’d insisted on being part of this plan, wanting to be able to brag to his friends that he’d done something daring. It was a significant departure from his usual role within the group; he was the one that helped Nate, Jeff and Brock with their math homework or their book reports. He was a good guy, fun to hang out with, but he definitely wasn’t the most daring member of the fourth grade class.

Brock watched through the moonlight, listening for the doorbell. When he heard it, his heartbeat accelerated as he waited another few seconds. Finally, Jeff’s whistle came through the darkness. Brock smiled at Nate, who pushed open the gate. Instantly, Brock flew through the opening, racing across the lawn. One hundred feet left. Seventy-five feet. His legs were going faster than he’d ever run before and his heart was beating with a combination of excitement at their daring, adrenaline at the possibility of being caught, and exertion since he’d never run this fast before in his life.

Finally, the yellow rose was in sight. He increased his speed, running as fast as he could. Despite the fact that he didn’t believe a human being could shoot electric sparks through his arms, Brock wasn’t going to risk it.

He’d just snipped off the yellow rose when he heard something to his right. A noise? Or his imagination? Brock wasn’t sure, but he grinned and stuffed the rose into his jeans pocket. A split second later, he was racing back towards the gate, giving it all he was worth. He saw Nate’s grin at the gate, heard Jeff’s whistle and sprinted several more feet.

“Go!” he said to Nate who was holding the gate open. There was definitely someone behind him. Who it was, he had no idea but he was determined not to find out. Peter was at the corner standing under the street light, looking worried. He saw Jeff run over to join him. He was almost out the door, almost able to feel someone’s breath on his neck by the time he reached the gate. He’d just run through the gate when Nate fell, tripping over one of the old oak tree roots that was pushing up through the ground. Brock looked back; he saw the furious face of Officer Williams a short way down the street.

Nate saw the police officer as well and stumbled again, his nervousness making him clumsy. He pushed himself up and tried to start again, but unfortunately fell down again.

Brock paused. He knew he should just run. Officer Williams really hated him. He’d almost been caught twice before doing similar activities, and this police officer had made it a personal mission to catch Brock red handed.

But Nate was still having trouble and Brock couldn’t let him get caught. Sprinting back down the road, he lifted Nate onto his feet and started running with him. Nate finally got his balance and started to run on his own steam, rushing down the street to where Peter and Jeff were now standing. But their expressions reflected that something was wrong.

Although Brock’s assistance had gotten Nate out of trouble, Officer Williams had used the time to close the gap. He grabbed Brock’s arm just moments before he was able to slip away. Brock fought against the grip, but the man was stronger than he had anticipated.

“Gotcha!” the officer snapped, breathing in great gulps of air. Brock looked over to the street lamp and smiled. At least his friends had gotten away. That was something, he thought.

“Now you’re coming with me to the station,” Officer Williams snapped, thrilled that he’d finally caught the kid who had been driving him nuts for over a year. “This might only get you a slap on the wrist and some community service, but when you finally mess up big time? I’m going to be the one that puts you into prison. I’m going to smile the whole time as I turn the lock on that cell door.”

Brock looked up at the sweating, angry officer. A challenge? He almost smiled in anticipation. Brock was always up for a challenge. His fingers touched the pocket where the yellow rose rested, thinking about showing it to Becky tomorrow at recess. No, he wasn’t going to prison, he thought. And he might have been caught by Officer Williams this time, but he’d still succeeded in his mission.

Tomorrow at recess, he was going to get his prize!

Read more about Intimate Caresses, book one in The Love and Danger Series.