Disclaimers: The prerequisite disclaimers.

Intellectual Property: The characters are wholly my own. Any similarities drawn between them and any persons, plants, or animals, living and dead, are figments of your imagination. However, some places and products mentioned in the story do exist. No infringement is intended. (Hey, look on the bright side! Free publicity! Yeah!)

Ratings/Language/Violence: R-rated. Generally, the language and violence is mild, as is the sex. However, at risk of spoiling some surprises, the story deals with sensitive issues like overbearing parents, youth violence, rape, and murder.

Sex: Love is expressed between two consenting ladies. If that bothers you, then for the love of God (or a higher being or beings, if any), get help.

Age: If this material is illegal where you live and/or if you are underage then find something else to do.

NOTES: Mickey is NOT the main character. Be patient and you'll meet the two leading heroines in no time at all. Also, this story takes place over about the span of a decade. If you want to see sign language, go to this web site. http://www.bconnex.net/~randys/

If you have any feedback, suggestions, or comments, please let the bard know at sarkel_bard@yahoo.com You are guaranteed a reply if you so wish. Constructive criticism is accepted J

I'd also like to thank everyone who helped. Thanks to Steph, Critic, Ink, and everyone else who has contributed.

Many people have asked me about my posting policy, so here's a rundown. I have a personal policy to post at least once a week, but if I am ahead of schedule or have extra time, I'll post more than once.

A Note: In the story, when Sam (or someone who is signing) murmurs, mumbles or whatever, they are not speaking. The 'screams' 'whispers' and so forth are merely the sign language equivalent.

Part 8

Mickey studied his reflection in the mirror. That damn dyke bitch-he couldn't even say her name anymore-had done some ugly cosmetic surgery. A few months had helped tremendously, but he'd never be the same handsome lad. His teeth were chipped and crooked; he hadn't been able to afford dental work or replacement teeth. His nose was permanently deformed, and at night, he could feel his ribs clatter around in his stomach. Sighing, he flopped down on an itchy kitchen chair and surveyed his small and dank trailer. He fingered his journal, re-reading an entry. Time to wine and dine the angel.

Mickey dialed the phone number he knew by heart. He'd called his former friend, that dyke bitch, countless times before to arrange some get together or klepto job. But not now, not anymore. He wasn't using his TTY; he was using the regular voice phone to call his lovely pixie. The interference had been back at school for some time now and he just knew that his angel was raring to see Mick.

Allison grumbled and set down her calculus book when she heard the telephone ring. Among work, school, and her activities at school, she was barely keeping up with her homework. She knew that there was no need to continue working; Barry had told her so himself. But she just didn't feel right taking his money.

"Hello?" her sweet feminine voice answered and the young man grinned. He had timed the call to make sure she was at home.

"Hey!" Mickey sneered in the voice women couldn't resist. "Hot damn. I missed ya. What's up? Why didn't you drop me a line? Whaddya think of the flower?"

Allison immediately recognized the slightly garbled voice as Mickey's. She wasn't able to understand half of what he said. Great. "Hello?"

"Damn, woman. This be Mick! Ya know… Mick! We was introduced a while back."

The blonde sighed and twirled a strand of her hair around her finger. Mickey was annoying her, more than scaring her. "Uhh… I don't know you."

Mickey growled. "Heh! You're a feisty hot piece. I always liked your games. I'll do you a favor and pick you up Saturday, seven o' clock. Be ready. Dress nice. I treat my women right."

Allison picked up on the entitlement and arrogance in Mickey's voice. "I would never ever date you, not even once in a blue moon. Got it?" She hung up the phone soundly. Jeez. She had almost forgotten about Mickey Ratzlaff. Several months had passed since that crisp December evening when he'd nearly raped her. Apparently, the jerk wasn't done. Well, if Sam's beating hadn't gotten through to him, certainly the blonde's refusal had. She sighed, satisfied, and returned to her homework.

Meanwhile, Mickey was grinning. I knew it! The hot piece is nuts about me! She wanted to make the date romantic, go out on a full moon. Sure, sure. Mickey grabbed that day's paper and pored through the weather forecasts. The next full moon would be two days away. He nodded in self-satisfaction. That explains it. Pixie couldn't wait until Saturday to see Mick. He leered, imagining their first time together. It would be so special.

Mickey rang the Cannizarro doorbell promptly at seven o' clock two evenings later, dressed in his new suit. He'd spent an hour at the thrift store searching for just the right combination. He didn't like those high brow department store threads, and preferred to steal his skins from casual stores. Besides, he got the vibe that the pixie didn't carry airs around her. Unlike the dyke, he and the pixie knew the value of scrapping by and hard work.

Mickey slicked his hair back one more time and clutched the bouquet of flowers in his hand. It had been hell stealing them; his mind had been distracted-of course-and he'd almost gotten caught. Anything for you, my pixie.

The door remained unopened for the next few minutes and the young man began to worry. The lights were off in the house and he couldn't hear anything. No one was home, but the pixie couldn't have stood him up! Impossible! Mickey growled in anger then smacked himself on the forehead. Silly, you have to pick her up from work. Yeah, that was it.

He jumped into his car and sped towards the Addict for a date with his destiny. And there she was, right on cue, walking across the parking lot of the mall, having recently finished her shift. She was laughing, beaming, and clearly anticipating the night. Mickey started to laugh as well, preparing little Mick, until he zeroed in on the muscular, tanned, and chiseled young man next to her. His eyes narrowed.

Allison got into a sleek sports sedan with the guy. He even opened the door for her, and she thanked him by patting him sensuously on the shoulder. Mickey bellowed and honked his horn. She knew not to date anyone else!

He accelerated his car, aiming to overtake the sleek vehicle and stop his pixie from leaving. Allison was studying a gold bracelet around the hunk's wrist. The sedan was still parked when Mickey pulled into the adjoining parking spot and leaped out of the car.

He pounded furiously on the smooth surface of the preppy guy's vehicle, passenger side. "What the fuck you doing? What about our date!" he screamed.

Allison jumped at the snarl and immediately looked into Mickey's feral eyes. "Shit!"

Mickey began to rock the car, his rage growing exponentially.

"Hey!" Allison's friend opened the driver's side door and strode to Mickey. "Who the hell are you?"

Mickey ignored his pixie's second suitor, throwing all his energy into getting to her.

"Dammit, you bastard!" The clean-cut fellow grabbed Mickey by his shirt collar and hurled him to the ground easily.

Allison stepped out of the car warily as veins bulged in her friend Tyler's forehead. "Who's the wimp?"

"Just some… some loser," Allison whispered.

"We had a date! A date!" Mickey flung his legs against the pavement and waggled his fists at the two young people. "Tell him, darling!"

The blonde stared as Mickey made a complete fool out of himself, acting like a child on the ground in that patchwork suit. "No, we didn't. I told you I'd never date you, not even once in a blue moon."

Mickey sat up jerkily. "You lie! You said you'd go out with me on a full moon! See?" He pointed upwards. "That's tonight! Our night!"

The green-eyed young woman sighed. "You didn't understand me right over the phone, Mickey. Look…"

Tyler growled. "Get lost, geek. Come on, Allison." He wrapped his arms around her gently. "Let's go." Before she could get a word in, Tyler had led her back inside his car and they were gone.

Mickey gasped incredulously as the glossy car zoomed out of the parking lot. She hadn't even given a second look to the flowers. The pixie was playing sick games with him. Well, he'd teach her what it felt like.

Heaviness settled in his heart. He was wrong. She hadn't been the one. She was like the others. A small glimmer of comfort appeared as he came to the new revelation. At least he could punish her. Sam too, for what she had done to his virile good looks. He liked punishing women. Yeah, that'll be fun.

"What was that all about?" Tyler, the captain of the football team, asked as he drove the blonde chick home. She was still shaking.

"I really don't know," murmured Allison. "I just hope he doesn't try to pull something like that again."

"Fall-in! Ten-hut!" shouted the officer in charge.

The platoon snapped to attention.

"Left face! Forward, March!"

The cadets fell in and marched ahead in four columns.

Cadet Command Sergeant Major Samantha A. Cannizarro, the first battalion's Senior Enlisted Advisor, trailed the marching cadets. She had a checklist in hand as she evaluated the platoon commander's capability to command. Her evaluations would determine whether the commander would receive a promotion.

Sam frowned as Cadet Sergeant Price stepped out of cadence. He shouldn't have been an officer in charge. Check. Price was also deaf and she hated to subtract points from a friend but someone had to do the dirty work.

She was bored with her job. This was the ninth time in two weeks she had to take a platoon commander on a field march test. Check, check, check mistake after mistake was all she did. The responsibility of ensuring that cadets learned leadership skills, how to march, and how to dress properly fell on her shoulders but the glamour of the job had diminished after the first week of school. Sam had a hearing officer with her on most of her tests to measure cadence, unless she was evaluating a hearing-impaired person who used sign instead of voice.

Sam rolled her eyes as the platoon commander made the same mistake as virtually all had before him. They had problems with executing multiple commands while maintaining cadence.

As the commander took the platoon through its last trip around the marching field, a shout came in the distance. Sam's interpreter translated.

"Sergeant Major! There's a call for you in the staff office!" cried the battalion secretary.

Sam sighed and nodded to indicate she'd understood. She walked behind the group until the unit reached the armory. The platoon came to attention as Sam marched to the front.

"Satisfactory march," Sam said to the cadets then turned to the commanding officer. "See me later." Price's face remained stoic. She was not in the mood to expand on the faults and errors of the commanding officer or of the cadets. "Dismiss the platoon."

Sam walked the few feet to the staff office. As she turned on the TTY, she caught sight a staff sergeant. "A moment please," she typed.

"Hey!" she finger spelled. Jimmy was one of her few hearing pals at school. He was always on the in concerning parties and the latest gossip. "Next weekend's finally an open weekend. Anything going on?"

The brawny cadet standing in the doorway grinned. "Yeah. That movie, Fields of Blood, we've all been waiting to see is on video, and it'll be Francesa's party this turn. Too bad it's all closed weekends until the battalion competition. No more fun, huh? Better grab it while we have a chance."

"Thanks, Jimmy."

"Gotcha." Jimmy nodded at Sam then turned and left.

"Hello. Jackson Military Academy. Cadet Command Sergeant Major Cannizarro speaking. How may I help you?"

"Honey! You didn't tell me you'd gotten promoted! When did that happen?" Barry's deep personality came through clear as day as he greeted his daughter.

Sam sighed. "Dad, the appointment is for one year. I got it in June, remember?"

"Oh? I remember the days when you were merely a private." Barry sighed as he began to reminiscence. "You'd always grumble about those pushups. Anyway, I do have a reason for calling. Allison is having her 17th birthday party next weekend. I've signed you out. You can go to the party and we'll spend Saturday together."

"Oh dad! Couldn't you have given me more advance notice? I'm…" Sam paused to think of an excuse. "Busy. I have an arms march practice next weekend and it's really important to the battalion competition." Sam heart fluttered at the mention of her stepsister, but the timing couldn't be worse. She hated social events, she hated strangers, it was the last open weekend for a long time, and she wanted to use it to party and catch up on sleep and see a movie. The last thing she wanted to do was spend her free time with a group of teenybopping, boy crazy, fashion conscious, teenage girls with no lives.

"Nonsense!" Her father scoffed. "I'm sure they can find someone else to do it for you. It's not every weekend that Allison has her birthday. I only found out yesterday about the surprise party. Your OIC said that it was ok."

Sam clutched the desk. Of all times! "Dad…"

"See you next weekend. You'll have fun, make some new friends. Allison will be thrilled to see you there. It's at her friend Amy Olsen's house Friday night. Of course, come home and see me first!"

"You're sure it's next weekend? I won't know anyone there! I'll be the only deaf person. Can I at least bring Paul or a friend?" Sam was beginning to whine.

"Sam! I know you love to march and all that but don't you do that every day? Come home! I miss you. You'd have to visit sooner or later. On Saturday we can do something special together! Of course, bring Paul!" Barry enthused.

She sighed and cursed under her breath. "Sure, dad. I'm there. Later."

"Bye, honey. Love you." Barry hung up.

Sam groaned and buried her face in her hands. Arrgh!

An administrative assistant paused. "Sergeant Major. Are you all right? Can I get you some Tylenol?"

"No, thank you, Sergeant." With a scowl on her face, Sam gathered her cap and regulation coat. Why did Allison have to have her birthday on an open weekend?

Allison had e-mailed Sam a few days after Barry and Susan returned from the honeymoon and informed her that their cover-up was successful. She'd intercepted the insurance papers, and the older Cannizarros were none the wiser. Allison had also ruminated about her friends, her day at school, but especially about Allen. The girl was crazy about her brother. Too crazy, thought Sam. She was more like a mother than a sister to the kid.

Sam chuckled at one particular passage in Allison's first e-mail. Allen's really looking forward to throwing the football around with you this summer. I've tried to teach him but he says I throw like a girl. J He won't recognize my honorary alien membership. Sigh…

They'd began to correspond regularly and Sam looked forward to Allison's daily e-mails. Her stepsister had plenty to say, even about the most trifling matters, and Sam's succinct responses grew longer and longer, and more frequent. She'd even chosen to go home on an open weekend, rather than party and hang out with her buds a while ago.

A few days at home and being with her new friend seemed like a refreshing change of pace but the weekend had been unbearable. Susan moaned and bitched about her stepdaughter's clothes, appearance, and imperfection the whole time. Although the dark-haired girl hadn't spent much time with the blonde, they'd gone to dinner for a couple hours and had fun. She wouldn't be going home until the summer, though, if she could help it, because of the witch. How could Allison, Allen, and Barry possibly tolerate her? I guess one more weekend won't hurt. It's summer I dread. Summer with the she-demon.

Sam, with Allison's present stuffed under her arm, trudged up to Amy Olsen's Colonial-style home and knocked on the door. Her father practically tossed her out of the house on her butt and monitored her progress down the street carefully. She'd driven the few minutes to Amy's house, parking Dino a few blocks away as not to ruin the surprise. Sam was ready to asphyxiate Paul, who backed out at the last minute because Elizabeth called. Sam was ready to bail, but something had prevented her from fleeing. She owed her stepsister a huge favor due to Allen's fall. Besides, Sam was curious about Allison's behavior around her friends.

The door opened a crack and a pale, delicate hand reached out and pulled her inside.

"Ooh! Hide! Find a place to hide! Allison is going to be here any moment! Hush!" giggled the owner of the hand as she grabbed the gift and added it to a pile of gaily-wrapped presents.

Sam hated being ordered and tugged around. She jerked her arm free and glared at the girl, but the giggling female wasn't fazed one bit.

"Who are you? Hehehe. Go hide in the closet. I thought I knew all of Allison's friends. After all, I am her bestest friend!" A decisive knock on the door sent the girl and several gaggles of teenagers scrambling.

"Go! Go!" the girl squealed, shoving Sam and squeezing her into a closet with several other people. She bumped her head upon entry and stifled a cry. Allison had better appreciate her effort.

The front door opened and an instant later, the closet door followed suit. A total of 50 teenagers jumped simultaneously from inside the closet, from behind the couch, from the den, from behind the curtains, and from behind yet two more closets. "Surprise!"

Good Grief. Sam waited a moment and simply stepped out of her hiding place. This would be a long night.

Her stepsister jumped back in shock then threw her hands up to cover her mouth. "Oh my gosh!" She started to cry. "You guys are way awesome! Thanks! This means so much to me! I am so lucky to have you!" The birthday girl hugged several friends, thanking each of them individually. Her eyes widened as she spotted Sam hovering in the background and her smile brightened tenfold. Her heart hammered at the unexpected thrill of seeing her gorgeous stepsister.

Allison enjoyed and appreciated her relationship with Sam, which surged after they'd started their e-mail correspondence. Allison could relax and be herself with her stepsister. She never had to gossip about how cute some guy was and she and Sam never chatted about the latest fashions or trends in makeup and hair. Sam was one of Allison's few friends that didn't meet with her mother's approval. Sam visited for a couple days a few weeks ago. The blonde had known from the minute when her mother set in with her "Samantha! We simply must do something about your hair! Honestly!" that her friend wouldn't want to come home until the summer. Allison didn't blame her one bit and wished she could go away as well.

Allison also got the feeling that she wasn't the only one of the two that could be more open and relaxed. Sam was becoming much more friendly, more loose and amiable. She cracked a few jokes and her e-mails had ripened from short and uncomfortable sentences to casual and lengthy narratives-and in only a few weeks.

"Sam! You're here!" Allison threw her arms around the taller girl's waist, greeting her with more fervor than any other guest. The blonde's smile was contagious and Sam couldn't help but smile just a little. Allison certainly seemed thrilled to see her. Perhaps the trip had been worth her time.

The brunette patted her shorter friend's back. "Happy birthday," she signed.

"This is so great! I have to introduce you to all of my friends." Allison signed excitedly, but cringed inwardly. Sam must think my friends are so shallow…hope she doesn't feel that way about me. She brushed the negative thought away and grabbed Sam's arm, leading her to a group of girls. "Sam, those are my closest friends Amy and Amber. Oh Amber! Why didn't you tell me about the party? I feel so underdressed, wearing those rags!" Allison waggled a finger at Amber, purposefully leaving some signs out so the tall dark-haired young woman wouldn't think the blonde was superficial and think less of her.

Great. Sam resisted the urge to smack everyone in the room. Her bubbly stepsister was embarrassing her with her large and squealing signs, and she couldn't understand anything that she was saying or anything her so-called friends were saying. Might as well put a large neon sign on me saying FREAK SHOW, FREE ADMISSION.

"Anyway, this is Brenda, Jonathan, Chris, Allison, not me of course, Ben, Ben, and Ben. Call them, Fink, Richie, and Bam-Bam." She pointed to the three Bens. And we can't forget Angela and Alex and his girlfriend Alexis. Oh, and this is Tyler."

Sam noted that the girl who had claimed to be Allison's bestest friend was nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly, a pair of hands covered Allison's eyes, rendering her blind. "Guess who you forgot!" squealed a high voice.

Allison jumped and clasped the hands. "Joshie-babe! I didn't forget you!" The guy removed his hands and spun the birthday girl around to face him.

"Darling. You look fab tonight, a total Betty you are!" He looked Sam up and down approvingly, she studying him in return. He was a flaming queen, no question about it. What a fag. She grinned as she recalled Mike, who could pass for Joshua's double, a good friend from camp.

"Ooh, who's this delicious dish? She has the most wonderful cheekbones! I would just love to… ohh! That almost makes me straight. Whoo! Ooh, who's that Baldwin over there? I adore his shirt…and more. What do you think of my new platform shoes?" Joshua modeled his recent purchase for the group and they nodded mutely in approval because when with Joshua, don't expect to get a word in.

"Well. I'm going over there and make a new friend! Ciao. Oh, Happy Birthday!" Joshua smacked Allison on the cheek with an air kiss.

Allison shook her head, giggling as Joshua sashayed across the room. "Now, let me introduce you to those guys over there." The blonde hopped across the room, squeezing her stepsister's hand. "I'm so glad you're here. I hope you'll feel comfortable with my friends. They may seem a bit… but they're cool once you get to know them." Without losing a breath, Allison rushed on. "Now this is Brad and this is Matt. They play football. Guys, Sam plays football too."

"Oh!" Allison clasped her hands together as an idea occurred to her. "Hey! Anyone here like art?" she shrilled throughout the room. Maybe she could find someone who wasn't totally shallow and phony. A few hands went up and Allison immediately zeroed in on the nearest one, a short girl with out of control red curls and freckles.

"Sam, this is…" Allison looked at the girl for her name.

"Zoe. Nice to meetcha."

"Zoe. This is Sam. She's deaf but you two can talk about art. Sam, this is Zoe. Both of you like art so… have fun! I should make my rounds but I'll be right back!" Sam nodded, knowing she couldn't expect Allison to be her shadow all night. An awkward silence ensued as the girls nervously shifted their weight from foot to foot.

Allison flew off as the two girls stared at each other in discomfort.

Zoe didn't know what to say, having never met a deaf person before. Finally, she ventured a sentence. "You like art?"

Sam shook her head and furrowed her brows. The shorter girl's lips were barely moving and blue-eyed girl hadn't understood a word. "What?" she mouthed.

"Oh! I'm sorry." Zoe paused and inhaled several lungfuls of air. "DO YOU LIKE ART?" she screamed near the taller girl's ear, meticulously sounding out each syllable.

Gods! Sam gritted her teeth and pointed to her ears, shaking her head. She'd understood Zoe's mouth movements the second time, but she didn't want to convey the mistaken impression that deaf people could hear if only hearing people would speak louder.

Zoe sighed in exasperation. "Why can't you talk? I know a deaf actress who can talk real good. Are you one of those dumb people?" She spoke normally, her lips still hard to read.

The deaf girl gave up and retrieved a notepad and pen from her jean pocket. "What did you say?" she wrote.

Zoe peered at the paper. "Cool!" she voiced, then took the pen. "Wow, how did you learn to read and write?"

Sam rolled her eyes. "I woke up one morning and just could."

"Seriously! Wow! How did that happen?" Zoe asked in amazement.

Good grief. Sam frowned in disgust at Zoe. "I learned the same way you did!" she wrote. This conversation isn't worth the paper it's written on. Without another word, the dark-haired girl left, stalking to the other side of the room.

A tall gawky boy with a zillion zits and braces walked up to Sam and tapped her on the shoulder. "Could you do me a favor?"

Sam's eyes narrowed and she pursed her lips.

"The guys over there bet me I couldn't get a date with you. If you would be so kind to oblige…?" The guy jerked his thumb towards a group of pubescent boys.

Sam shook her head firmly. No.

"Please. You don't actually have to go. Just say you will?"

No.

"Please. I gotta impress them! Look… what will it take? I've got the entire set of Space Intruder trading cards! Or, how about…" the guy paused and looked at his friends again who were by now laughing at him. "Puhhleease?"

She growled at him. Get lost!

"But." The boy scrambled away as Sam glared at him. Another guy, with Ken hair and Ken features, approached her and scoped out her breasts and figure.

"Hello there. Name's Chas and fun's the game. We'll get together tonight. Later babe." Chas walked off as Sam looked at him with total disgust.

One of Allison's perfectly coifed friends glided up to the deaf outcast. "Hello Samantha! I must say you're lovely. However…your clothes. You could use some fashion advice. You need to wear more flattering clothes to your figure."

The friend fingered Sam's outfit, jeans, and a nice blouse, as the dark-haired young woman jerked away angrily.

"Excuse me?" said the girl in shocked surprise. "I'm Beth Miller!"

"So?" Sam mouthed. She honestly didn't care.

Everyone standing around the duo gasped.

"Don't you know who I am? I'm Beth Miller! Queen of Fashion!" She grotesquely mouthed her words. Samantha must have misunderstood.

Sam crossed her arms. "So?" She raised her eyebrows.

Beth clasped her hand over her heart and gasped. "I'm well respected and known for my fashion advice and you turned me down! I can't believe this!" All the girls were nodding gravely.

Sam shrugged. They were so clique-ish.

"I can't believe you, you, fashion savant!" Beth put her hands on her hips and glared at the deaf girl.

Sam sighed and held up a finger, telling the ubiquitous Miss Miller to stay put as she wrote down a message. One of the girls leant in and read the message as it was being written and recited the note. "Ok. Like I would want advice from you. You're overly made-up, you look really uncomfortable and constricted, and you've got bags under your eyes but hey, that's the price to pay for being 'fashionable'." Sam smirked.

The other girls gasped and evaluated Beth as she began to wheeze. "You look unnatural, like you've a few too many facelifts and tattooed on make-up and sprayed on clothes. Not only that but you look like you're begging for it if you know what I mean." Sam wiggled her eyebrows suggestively as they gasped again.

The girls, virtual clones of Beth, nodded gravely. "She's right, Beth. Chas only dates college girls and he talked to her! So, Sam was it? You're saying natural is the way to go?"

Sam groaned. "Yeah. Guys like that." At least I do. Allison would be so much more attractive without that stratum of makeup on her face-like during spring break. The tall young woman blinked at the thought; why was she even imagining her stepsister in such a way?

"Hmmm…you must be right." The drones nodded meditatively. "Should we go naked or only partially naked?"

Allison spied Sam across the room and grinned hugely. Her stepsister was a hit and, moreover, she was having fun!

Sam cocked her head at the note. "Huh?"

"You know...makeup? Should we wear none at all or some?"

"Don't know, don't care. Later." Sam made a hasty exit for the punch bowl as Beth Miller and her clones beelined for the bathroom. A line of girls formed at the bathroom so they could remove their make-up.

Allison made her way across the room to her stepsister. "Hey, Sam. Looks like you're popular huh? That's cool… what happened with Zoe?"

Sam chuckled. Her experience with the ignorant teenager would make a funny story one day. "Well, your friend was surprised at the fact that I, a deaf person, could read and write!" The dark-haired girl feigned shock, imitating Zoe's reaction.

Allison clasped her stepsister's hand and pulled her onto a couch. "I'm sorry. People can be so stupid sometimes. You aren't too offended are you?"

Sam laughed at the blonde's irritated expression and patted her leg. "Don't worry. It's not a big deal. If you think that was bad, you should have seen me at a fast food place when they gave me a Braille menu! I guess they thought since my ears don't work, my eyes must not either."

The shorter girl chuckled at the thought of Sam trying to order from a Braille menu. "I'm glad you are ok with it. Guess I should stop offering my deaf customers at The Addict the Braille menu? I guess that's why they never come back." Allison grinned slyly as the dark-haired girl's face changed from amusement to chagrin.

"You actually do that?" Sam asked incredulously. She shook her head as the blonde's face fell.

"I'm so glad you told me about that. Now I won't embarrass myself anymore. Thanks." Said the blonde seriously.

Sam raised a dark eyebrow as she surveyed the younger woman critically. Allison wasn't that stupid; she was just pulling her leg. Sam played along and nodded gravely. "You're welcome. Need any other tips?"

The green-eyed girl swallowed. "You know I was kidding right? How did you know about the party? I'm glad you came and put up with my friends. You've made my day." She smiled broadly to get her point across.

"Yeah. It's no big deal. Dad told me. I came just so I could give you your birthday spanking. You're due 18: 17 plus one to grow on." She winked at the blonde who shook her head.

"As if I'd allow you to paddle me!" Allison slapped her seatmate gently on the shoulder.

"Don't worry. I'll let you keep your shorts on. So, which one of those are your current love interest?" the dark haired girl looked around the room, mentally evaluating each possible candidate. They had never discussed dates or boys in their e-mail and personal conversations but there had to be somebody. Every boy at the party looked alike. They must all be preppy, slick, plastic boy Ken worshippers.

The blonde shrugged, not wanting to discuss her lack of romantic involvement. "Nobody here."

Sam pulled back. "Nobody? You're kidding. Girl like you wouldn't go without…"

Her stepsister shook her head and sighed. After a momentary hesitation, Allison answered. "Ah. There isn't anybody. Really." She looked away, chewing on her lip.

Sam noticed the faltering response and mistook it for despair over an unrequited crush. "You ok? A guy that's not interested back or what? He's a fool then." Maybe it's Paul. She could do much better.

The shorter girl nodded and smiled ruefully. "Something like that. So…I noticed Chas talking to you earlier. What's up with that? Where is Paul tonight?"

Sam swallowed angrily. It was Paul after all. What the hell did she see in Paul? "He had a date," she said bitterly. That should take care of Allison's little infatuation with Paulie-boy.

Allison's eyes widened in surprise at the harsh statement. Sam must be jealous or upset that Paul had gone out with somebody else. The idiot didn't know what he had.

Sam's stomach lurched as she studied the blonde's crestfallen reaction. Allison seemed disappointed that she didn't have a shot with the green-haired punk.

The birthday girl took the deaf girl's hand in her own. "Paul's a moron for not realizing what he's missing out on."

Sam shook her head. The blonde was on a major ego trip, but she was right. Anybody would be a nitwit for not appreciating the green-eyed girl. On the day they'd met, she'd pegged Allison for a superficial, blonde, chattering chick at first but the younger girl had surprised her. Sam now realized that there was much more to her stepsister than met the eye.

The conversation was interrupted by an ear-piercing shriek as Beth Miller skidded through the room, her face in its natural state. "I look horrible! Awful! I never should've listened to that dumb deaf girl!" She surveyed Sam accusingly as she pointed to a single blemish on her face.

"Hey, hey." Allison stood up, letting go of her stepsister's hand, and tried to run interference but Beth would have none of it. Beth turned haughtily on her heels and returned to the bathroom to reapply her makeup.

"What did she say?" questioned the deaf girl. Her stepsister was looking at Beth with an expression of utter disgust and disregard. The blonde shook her head slowly. She was amazed at her so-called friend's rudeness.

Sam sighed. She understood the gist of Beth's comment. "I'm gonna go. I don't want to ruin your party. Have a happy birthday. Maybe we could get together tomorrow when there are fewer people around." She smiled to show the blonde she wasn't upset.

"I'm going with you. Let me get your present first. I can't believe them!" Allison held out her arms and glowered in indignation. To hell with everyone else.

Sam sighed and rolled her eyes. "Over some little comment like that. I don't think so. You're staying. You only turn 17 once. Enjoy your day and see ya later."

Allison grabbed her stepsister's arm. "No! It was not a little comment. They should know better. I cant believe what Zoe said and those total ignoramuses."

Sam whirled her finger in the air. "Whoopie! You're taking it too personally. I'll live. Later." She pulled Dino's keys out of her pockets.

Allison blew out her breath between clenched teeth, exasperated with Sam. The blonde shook her head furiously and took the taller girl's hand in hers. She led them to the pantry, locking the door behind them. Now they could duke it out.

The blue-eyed young woman grinned. "Stay. I won't be mad. You don't have to do this for my benefit."

The blonde threw up her hands. "Your benefit? I really don't like their attitude and I'm not going to tolerate this!" She paced the pantry angrily, her face boiling as she muttered to herself. "They have no respect! Bitches!" Sam watched in amusement as her stepsister's raw passion and beauty grew by the second. She stopped in front of the taller girl and took a deep breath. "How can you act like nothing happened?"

Sam shrugged. "I'm used to it. Hey…" She put a hand on Allison's shoulder. "Don't beat yourself up. Running away won't teach them anything. What use will it be?"

The younger girl smiled and squeezed her stepsister's shoulder. "Why are you leaving then?"

The brunette shook her head ruefully. "I'm not storming out here all mad, in a huff. I'm leaving because I don't want to drag you down."

The green-eyed girl considered her stepsister's response. "You'd never drag me down."

Sam scoffed. "I stick out like a sore thumb. Gets old after a while."

The blonde searched her beautiful friend's face, wanting to reassure her and kiss her now more than ever. She could at least shoot for one out of two. "You're wonderful, Sam. Don't let people get to you like that."

She cocked a dark eyebrow and pulled her younger companion closer. "Hmm. Tell me more about myself," she said teasingly in an attempt to lighten the mood. She'd never been one for deep and serious conversations. Sam's arm stayed around her stepsister's welcoming shoulders, enjoying the feel.

Green eyes looked seriously at Sam. "I love being with you. You're self-confident. You have strong principles and beliefs, while I'm…"

The taller girl chuckled. "Yeah, I know. I'm extraordinary. Amazing. Marvelous. But, so are you." She finished the comment half-jokingly, half-seriously.

"Not really, I'm just a puppet, kowtowing to everything other people want or expect from me. I wish I could be more like you, comfortable with myself," Allison remarked wistfully.

"You're perfect the way you are. You're smart, friendly, funny…" Sam scrunched her face. "I'm forgetting something. Oh yeah, you're a great dancer."

"Hey! That wasn't nice!" the blonde laughed, leaning into her stepsister's touch. She always felt so good and peaceful when Sam was around.

"See that? You also have a great smile," Sam pointed out. "That's important. Know why?"

Allison shook her head. "Tell me."

"Smiling's the second best thing you can do with your lips," the dark-haired young woman explained, wishing her stepsister would take the bait.

"Smiling?" the blonde murmured, momentarily confused. "So what's the first? I don't und-" A light bulb appeared over her head. "Oh! You're bad!" Allison giggled.

Sam played dumb and feigned ignorance. "I thought you liked eating. What's so awful about that?"

"Eating?" Allison felt like a total fool. Her mind was dirty; she needed to stop reading sexual overtones in every small thing her stepsister said.

"Hmm." Sam studied her companion's brilliant green eyes, nicely illuminated by a deepening red blush. "Did you have something else in mind?" She grinned, enjoying the torture she was bestowing. Casually and not completely aware of her movement, she slipped a hand through her friend's smooth and silky hair.

Allison was ready to wring her stepsister's neck. Why did Sam continually have to string her along with those subtle jokes? Especially when her body, her breasts, her smell were so close and so overwhelming…

"Maybe I did," the shorter girl replied, not thinking clearly. "I'm not hungry. Are you?" She moaned softly. Sam's touch was so nice and comforting. It provoked new sensations in Allison's body.

The brunette shook her head cautiously, surprised by the bold rejoinder. "What did you…" She stopped speaking; there was no use in continuing. Allison closed her eyes, her body pressing urgently into Sam's. Gently, she placed her hand on the dark-haired girl's back, and slowly rose up to bring their lips together.

Sam's lips were soft and warm, so heavenly, Allison thought dreamily, as she sought entrance into the mouth beyond. She kissed the taller girl urgently, but was met with resistance, the force of which jolted her back to reality. Gasping, she pulled back, mortified at what she'd just done.

"I'm sorry Sam! I didn't realize what I was doing." Allison covered her mouth, afraid it would betray her again.

"Why be sorry?" Sam's brow furrowed as she studied her companion. She'd wanted it too. She'd been astonished by the pleasant turn of events, only resisting the tongue's entry because she'd been taken by surprise. The blonde's lips were divine, like-no, better than velvet-and her stomach was filled with a warm and bubbly agitation.

"You and Paul-please don't hate me, Sam." Allison shook her head and covered her face with her hands, completely ashamed. Not to mention that we're both women.

Sam smiled, no longer able to think sanely, and peeled the shorter girl's shaking hands from her face, just wanting to kiss her over and over again. "Me and Paul?" She tilted Allison's chin and forced eye contact. Now their conversations about her friend made sense. She grinned, showing that she bore no ill will. She bent down, cupping Allison's cheeks in her hands, and placed a few fluttery kisses around the green-eyed girl's forehead and chin. After the contact, she freed her hands to explain. "There is no me and Paul. We're just friends. I thought you were the one who liked him."

She didn't give the blonde a chance to react to the new information, as she captured Allison, earnestly parting her lips with her own. Allison's hands gripped Sam's back as she allowed the blue-eyed girl's tongue to explore her mouth. As the moments passed, the two-way probing grew in passion.

A sharp rap sounded at the pantry door. "Allison?" a male voice called.

Guiltily, the blonde pulled away, simultaneously straightening her clothes.

"Just a minute!" she called as a million conflicting and confusing thoughts jumbled through her body.

"Is someone at the door?" Sam asked, inspecting the blonde with the trademark unnerving and intense gaze.

Allison nodded awkwardly. What was she supposed to say to the taller girl now? "I'm gonna answer it."

Her stepsister grinned and lassoed the smaller girl. "On one condition."

The birthday girl swallowed, equal amounts of excitement, and dread filling her at the prospect of a romantic entanglement. It was so wrong. What if her mother found out?

"Well?" Sam raised an eyebrow.

The knocking grew in urgency. "Anyone in there?"

"What's the condition?" Allison looked away shyly.

"We'll bust this joint and go someplace private," responded the brunette seriously. She was afraid they'd moved too fast, and didn't want to spoil the relationship, whatever it was, before she and Allison had a chance to discuss things.

Allison smiled as she tucked in her shirt, but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "Okay." She took a deep breath and patted down her hair, willing her hands to stay still. If I was an earthquake, I'd be off the Richter Scale.

"Hey. You look great. You're beautiful." Sam grinned as she seized one last kiss.

After a few seconds, Allison reluctantly pulled away and opened the door. Whoever had been there must have given up and left. There was no one outside the door.

The dark-haired young woman's stomach churned as she looked at her stepsister, unable to focus on anything else. She'd never felt this alive, this amazing. Allison was so beautiful, so kind, utterly unselfish.

"Hey!" a voice boomed from a dark corner as Chas emerged. "Didn't have a chance to tell you Happy B-Day. I'm going for a beer run. Want anything in particular? After all, you're the birthday girl. It's on me." The handsome young man grinned. Seeing Sam in the background, his grin broadened. "Allison, tell her that when I get back, we'll have fun."

The blonde blinked nervously as the brunette rolled her eyes in disgust. Sam took her shorter friend's arm; her heart and her stomach were going to explode if they didn't leave soon.

Chas reached into his pocket for his wallet. "I think I can afford an extra 12-pack. Lemme see. What's your fancy?" He winked at the birthday chick.

Allison nearly fainted at Sam's touch, every nerve in her body a volcano waiting to erupt. Her vision blurred momentarily as the younger girl steadied herself. The house was so hot and stuffy, and she couldn't think distinctly. Sam's hand on her arm and her presence mere inches away only added fuel to the fire. This is too good to be true.

A puzzled expression crossed Chas's face. "Hey! Where's my wallet?" He searched all of his pockets but came up empty. "Where could it have gone?" Chas looked around the room frantically as disbelief ran rampant through Allison. Was that why her stepsister had been so insistent about leaving?

"Son of a bitch!" Chas cursed. "Motherfucker!"

Sam knew exactly what was causing Chas's distress. After all, she'd misplaced her own wallet from time to time. She shrugged to say, Sorry, no can help, and noticed the accusative look the blonde was sending her way. Allison's posture had become openly hostile and she was facing her stepsister with displeasure.

"Hey! What's that look for?" Sam held her breath, dreading the response.

"Just return it, ok, Sam? No harm done. This isn't a nice thing to do," Allison signed furiously.

Sam shook her head, as a hurt look flashed briefly in her stricken blue eyes before turning into anger. "Fuck you! I thought you believed in me, saying all that bullshit. You're just a fucking liar. I'm outta here."

"I… I…" Allison struggled to defend herself, reaching for her stepsister.

Sam shrugged the blonde's hand off her arm. "Later." She strode to the front door and walked rapidly to Dino, biting her lips and cursing herself for being such a blockhead.

Shock kept Allison still for a few moments until Chas's voice jolted her back to reality. She couldn't let Sam go. She needed to explain, to tell Sam that she hadn't been thinking clearly after all she'd been through tonight. She didn't think Sam had actually stolen the wallet.

Allison shoved angrily past Chas and Zoe on her way to the door, and jogged down the street but her stepsister and Dino were nowhere to be seen. After a few minutes, Allison gave up the search and returned to Amy's house, panting, her stomach flip-flopping.

"Chas!" The birthday girl grabbed the first person she saw. "Mind driving me home now?" She had arrived at the party in a friend's car.

He furrowed his brows. "Sure. Why did Sam leave like that?"

Allison sighed. No. Maybe you should let her cool off. Remember, she's not the touchy-feely type. "You know what? I'll stay for a while longer."

Sam decided to go back to military school that night. To hell with the dumb blonde and her dad. She hadn't wanted to go to the party anyway. She drove past her house, but all the lights were on. Everyone was home. Not wanting to face them, she jotted a note and attached it to Corny's collar:

Dad, Went back to JMA. Have an exam to study for on Monday. Next open weekend, we can go hunting or whatever. Later, -S.

She jumped back into Dino and sped away into the darkness from where she had come.

Allison tried to bear the rest of the party without falling apart. She opened her presents-clothes, makeup, nothing new-and blew out the candles on the birthday cake. Sam's gift was left intact. She determined to open it in private or hopefully, when she and Sam had made up. Chas's scowl grew as the night wore on; he still hadn't found his wallet. After a few hours, citing exhaustion, the birthday girl thanked all her friends and hitched a ride to the Cannizarro mansion with a friend.

The first thing she noticed was that Dino was not in the driveway. She hoped that the dark-haired girl, in her anger, hadn't decided to do anything stupid. Allison clenched Sam's present in her hands. The other gifts lay forgotten in a bag on the ground, as she recalled her friendship with her stepsister. She had been telling Sam that she could be good, that she wasn't a troublemaker. But then she'd gone and accused Sam of theft right away without a second thought.

Why? Allison didn't know. The extraordinary kiss. There wouldn't be any more. She knew that was a good thing, but felt even more depressed.

"Hi, Corny." The dog ran in circles around his new green-eyed mistress. Reaching for consolation, she bent down to pet him. Her hand brushed against a piece of paper connected to the wriggling animal's collar, and she read it quickly. So Sam had run away once again. Because of me. I've just destroyed our friendship.

Allison plodded across the front yard into the house, damning her stupidity. Sam had been a true friend.

"Hey!" Barry boomed, watching the television in his robe. He had stayed up late, waiting for his two girls to get home. He couldn't wait to hear all about the party. He stood up to hug the new arrivals. "Allison? You ok? Where's Sam?"

The blonde shook her head miserably, fingering the piece of paper in her pocket. "She was accused of stealing a wallet and went back to JMA," muttered Allison.

"What!" Barry snarled. "How like her to ruin your party! I'm not surprised. She probably used the money to do something this weekend." He slammed his meaty fist on the countertop. "That girl is such a thickhead! I just can't figure her out!"

Allison stammered, "It was just a misunderstanding."

Her stepfather groaned. "You don't know my daughter like I do. She did it, I'm sure," he growled. "Fuck! Just when I thought…"

Allison shook her head slowly. "I don't think she did it."

"Whatever." Barry composed himself. "She'll get her due. I'll take care of it tomorrow. Let's talk about you, ok? Happy birthday!" he grinned, hugging his stepdaughter. Why couldn't Sam be more like Allison?

After chatting for a few minutes with Barry, the blonde dragged her sorry ass to her bedroom, even forgetting about her daily good night kiss for her brother. Sighing, she paused at Sam's room and nudged the door open. She fell onto Sam's bed, the smell of the dark-haired girl's scent on the sheets caused her to burst into tears. She'd indeed screwed up. Sam would never forgive her, and Allison knew she'd never forgive herself, either. She pondered her course of action. She could go to Jackson and try to talk to Sam. Or she could write a letter explaining things. What should she do? Perhaps it would be better to write a letter and give Sam some space to cool off. The brunette had every right to be upset with her.

Allison lay on her back, cuddling a pillow. She tried to analyze why she'd accused the brunette of stealing the wallet. She'd just been overwhelmed and feeling guilty by the kiss and Chas's situation had just unnerved her. The rift was probably for the best anyway, because she and Sam could never be together. Not liking her conclusions, Allison gripped the bed sheets, wishing that their owner would wrap her long, comforting arms around her for a kiss.

Her mother roused her two hours before the blonde had to be up for work. She hadn't slept well at all that night, continually replaying the clear pain and anger in Sam's eyes and on her face.

"Oh!" wailed Susan as she shook her daughter awake. "I just cannot believe that Samantha! Beauregard just told me of her horrible thievery. Can you imagine what this does for our family's reputation! The town'll just think we're a…pack of…thieves. Samantha had to do this right when we were applying for membership to the country club. Honestly! If we don't get accepted, I simply don't know what I'll do!" The redhead threw herself on her daughter's chest, sobbing as she imagined all her hard work, brown nosing that snob Jean Miller, all the flowers she'd sent to the board. All down the toilet!

"Momma." Allison held her mother, rubbing her back. "What's Barry doing?"

Susan sniffled. "He's calling that abominable girl at school. Oh, if I could get my hands on her!"

The blonde had managed to appease her mother when Allen walked in. "What's wrong?" the boy asked, glancing at his sister nervously.

Susan broke down again. "Samantha stole a wallet!"

Allen interjected with his two cents as Susan glared at him. "Sammy wouldn't do that. She gives me copter rides."

Barry's voice boomed throughout the house, causing the younger Albrechts to flinch. "She won't take my fucking calls!" He pounded again on the phone and dialed once again.

Allison and Allen quickly dressed and fixed their hair, joining their stepfather downstairs as he banged furiously on the TTY keyboard.

"Sir, Jackson Military Academy, how may I help you?"

"I want to speak to Sam Cannizarro now!"

"She's in her room. A moment please." A few minutes later the line was picked up again. "I'm sorry sir, but she insists that she is not accepting any calls at this time. Her exact words were unrepeatable, sir."

Barry growled but suddenly Sam was on the line.

"Yeah?"

"Dammit! Allison told me you stole a wallet last night! Why did you steal that wallet? Don't I give you enough money! Credit cards, allowance, tuition, Dino!"

Allison gasped as she read the message. She had not said any such thing, and now her stepsister would be even more pissed off.

The blonde was right-Sam was furious. So the little bitch had told her father a total pack of lies. That was almost as bad as seeing that look on her face the night before. "Nice to know you believe in me." She slammed the phone down.

"Barry," pleaded Allison, "Sam was only accused of stealing the wallet, but I know she didn't do it! She's a good person."

The muscular man shook his head dismissively. "I appreciate the sentiment but we both know the truth. I'll deal with it." He called Chas's family to make amends, but discovered that the young man had just misplaced his wallet. It had been in his bedroom the whole time. After apologizing for the disturbance, Barry hung up and faced his wife and stepchildren.

He swallowed, not wanting to lose face. "Well, I'll just hope that this teaches Sam not to trifle with me. She didn't steal the wallet after all, but it's still a lesson to be learned."

Susan nodded meaningfully at Barry's declaration. "That's right! Samantha needs a lesson! Cancel her credit cards!" More money for me to spend.

Barry shrugged at his gem. "Darling, canceling Sam's credit cards won't work as punishment. She charges ten bucks a month and only for school supplies. She's a cheapskate."

The redhead nodded gravely. Damn. Guess that one didn't pan out. He'll notice how much I charged this month. I can't hide some of the purchases behind Samantha's back. Oh well, Beauie-poo won't mind for his Susie-poo.

The blonde was disgusted at her mother and Barry. No wonder Sam felt like she was a worthless troublemaker. Allison immediately set to write a letter to Sam. A letter would be much more personal than a cold e-mail.

She selected her best stationery but went through several sheets of paper as each was rumpled and thrown away on account of sounding phony and insincere. She'd used her sunflower set at first after realizing Sam wouldn't like the flowery one, she'd selected pink stationery, but it wouldn't do either. Finally, she settled on stationery decorated with dog paw prints.

Allison muttered as she wrote. She'd never been at a loss for words before, especially written words. There was just no way to genuinely express how ashamed she was of herself and that she'd really never doubted Sam's innocence…. Although she had, for just a second. A second too much. That one moment of doubt had screwed up her relationship with Sam. And it didn't help that Barry had made it sound like she'd told him Sam was guilty.

Allison sighed as she fingered the Polaroid pictures from the night before. Amy had given her a pile of photos from the party, but the dark-haired beauty was only featured in a few of them. She studied her favorite, a picture of just Sam and herself. The taller girl had her arm around the blonde and was exhibiting her famous crooked smile. She hadn't been quite comfortable at the party last night, being deaf and a loner, and the tense posture in the picture reflected that. Nevertheless, Allison thought Sam had never looked more beautiful. Yes, she had royally screwed up.

She eyed Sam's still wrapped gift. Should I open it? She shook her head, pushing the package under the bed. It was too depressing to think about her stepsister.

The blonde picked up her pen and just wrote from her heart for a few minutes. When she was done, her letter comprised of a heartfelt apology, a hope that they could be friends again, and a couple photos from the party, pointing out which was her favorite. She had been sure not to refer to the kiss because it would just make matters worse. Before she could lose her nerve and tear the letter up, she mailed it.

Sam had been in a toxic mood ever since the party. Served her right for actually getting close to Allison and for thinking they could be friends or even more. Ha! She couldn't even remember what she had ever seen in the chatterbox. She was just a short, stocky, hearing, motor mouth who touched too much and had no sense of humor.

She pulled her bedcovers over her face, hoping tonight wouldn't be another sleepless night.

"What's up with Sam?" asked a barrack mate. "She's been in the pits ever since the weekend. Now she's even going to bed early."

"Dunno," answered another. "Time for mail call. I'm expecting a letter from Ricardo. Let's go!" The two deaf female cadets linked arms and headed for the lobby.

The officer-in-charge shouted out names of lucky recipients of mail. "Adams! Black! Butler!" Each cadet stepped up to pick up his/her mail. "Buzzard! Carter! Cannizarro!"

The OIC waited expectantly for Sam but she never materialized. "Jacks, give this to Cannizarro." She handed Allison's letter to one of Sam's barrack mates.

Amelia waited throughout mail call but didn't get a letter from Ricardo. Disappointed, she returned to the room with her other barrack mate, Yvonne. "Sam! You got a letter." Amelia studied the envelope. It was purple with a couple of stickers on it, including a star sticker on the flap. The handwriting was obviously feminine, the return address from a girl named Allison Albrecht.

Sam rolled her eyes. "Yeah?"

"Someone named Allison Albrecht," Amelia supplied helpfully.

"Oh." Her tone deflated. "Throw it away." She pulled the covers back over her head.

Amelia glanced at Yvonne then tentatively shook the figure. Sam tossed off the covers and snarled at her barrack mate. "What!"

Amelia swallowed nervously. "Sam? You sure you want to toss it out?" She held out the letter.

"Yes!" Sam turned to face away from her barrack mates and glared at the wall.

"Give me it." Yvonne grabbed the letter. She tore the envelope open and drew out a piece of paper. Two pictures fell out and Amelia picked them up quickly.

Yvonne skimmed the letter. A woman was begging Sam for forgiveness, referring to their 'relationship' and saying she was so ashamed of herself and promising not to hurt Sam again. "Sounds like trouble in paradise. You owe me 20 bucks. Told you Sam is a lesbo."

Amelia grinned as she read the letter. She didn't part with money easily. "Not necessarily. She could be bi."

Yvonne groaned. "Fine. Gimme 10 bucks. I need cigarettes."

"Deal." They perused the letter and the pictures more carefully. "Girl really seems to have the hots for Sam."

"Sam!" Amelia yelled, pulling the covers away from Sam. "You should read the letter. She's really sorry. Give her a second chance."

Sam's eyes widened. "You read my mail!"

"Come on," Amelia held up the letter. "She says she's sorry. Besides, she's cute."

The dark-haired cadet grabbed the paper and leaped out of bed. She stormed to the trashcan and ripped the letter apart. She hopped back in bed without a word.

Yvonne sighed. "Well, guess that's that." She dropped the Polaroid pictures in the trashcan. She and Amelia turned off the lights and settled in for the night, falling asleep easily.

Sam couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned, but the memories kept flowing back. Allison had said something about unrequited feelings. Had they been for Sam? The blonde was the last person in the world Sam expected would be attracted to her.

Her thoughts shifted to her mother in a casket. Her brother pale and ghostlike as she dropped a flower on his gravesite. Allison's lips on her own. Her trusting green eyes. The perfect kiss. Her incredible massage.

Even to this day, she remembered what somebody had said to her at her mother's funeral. "Sorry, kid. Shit happens."

Yep. He had been right. Shit happens. Sam tried to suppress more memories by burying her face in her pillow, but it didn't work. She needed some water. She vaulted out of bed gracefully and took a few gulps of water from the hall fountain.

She passed the wastebasket on her way back in the room and couldn't help but glance at it. Maybe she should've read the letter. That way, she'd have at least an idea of how well Allison wrote fiction.

"Damn!" she muttered. Why was she letting the blonde get to her like this? Exhaling, she reached into the trashcan and came up with two intact pictures. She glanced at them for a moment in the semi-darkness, her barrack partly illuminated by the faint hall light. The images were blurry in the blackness but she could make out Allison's smile instantly. "Shit. Fuck her." A wellspring of hurt spurted inside Sam.

With renewed resolve, Sam tossed the pictures back with the garbage.

Allison was wiping the counter when the bell rang. She glanced at her watch, which read 1:45. Her shift was over in fifteen minutes thank goodness.

She looked up and saw the creep. Idiot. "What would you like today?"

"I think I see what I would like to have…you. How about it?" Mickey leered.

"Sorry, I'm not on the menu. Anything else?" Allison shook her head, disgusted. She hoped that he wouldn't try to pull anything more than verbal harassment, wishing Sam was around to kick more ass.

Mickey shrugged. "How about some pussy?"

"That's not on the menu, either. If you're not going to buy anything, please leave." As the pockmarked youth spoke and leered, Allison saw a mangled mess of teeth where there formerly had been two neat, even rows of pearly whites. A tooth was missing and a couple others were capped.

He growled as he saw Allison studying his teeth. "That bitch, ruined my good looks! I thought you wouldn't be superficial, is that why you wont go out with me? Because my face's all messed up thanks to her!"

"Mickey, leave." Nervous, Allison twisted the rag in her hands.

He swallowed, becoming hard again. He loved the way she purred his name and explored his chiseled features. He'd be a gentleman and honor her request but he'd be back. "A café orange. I apologize for my behavior. I'll give you a second chance. We all make mistakes. How about it? Next week, Friday?"

"No thanks. That'll be $3.76." Allison brusquely poured out some espresso and orange juice. "Here you go."

Mickey leered at her as he left, knowing he wouldn't let her slip through that easily.

The blonde sighed and went back to cleaning the counter. 2:00 came but she'd had her eye on her unwelcome customer ever since he'd left. He was standing out front of The Addict, evidently waiting for her.

Allison sighed. She needed to go home and catch up with homework and baby-sit her brother. To hell with Mickey; after all that's why she had pepper spray in her purse. She took off her apron. "Mr. Dierksen, do you mind walking with me to my car? There's a creep outside who's been bothering me."

"Sure." Mr. Dierksen nodded. "Let me know if he pesters you again, ok? We can ban him from here."

Allison puckered her lips thoughtfully. "Would you do that?" she asked gratefully. "That might help."

"Sure." The boss escorted his co-worker to her Pinto, inspecting the parking lot for the troublemaker, but he remained unseen.

The blonde smiled as she neared her new neighborhood. So far, so good. No sign of the jerk. She was home free. She was about to pat herself on the back when a loud honk told her otherwise. She glanced into her rearview mirror. The moron was tailgating her, honking incessantly. She drove the remaining few blocks to the Cannizarro house. She was finally beginning to realize that she might have a big problem on her hands.

But who could she go to for help? Certainly she didn't want to tell her mother and/or Barry. Sam was obviously out of the question, having not answered her letter or e-mails, refusing all communication with her. She could call the police, but they wouldn't be able to prevent anything. If she told a friend like Tyler or Chas, how much assistance could they be really? Allison sighed; she was on her own. That suited her just fine. She could show the world she was capable of handling problems herself. Now she just had to figure out how to dissuade Mickey.

Allison pulled into the driveway quickly, parked the Pinto, and stepped out. The blonde hastily beat it inside the house when Mickey drove by slowly, leering evilly at her with those empty gaps in his mouth. She ran into her mother at the side door.

"What's up, Allison Alexandra?" Susan asked accusingly.

"Nothing, momma. I'm just tired." Allison sidestepped her mother and headed towards her room.

Susan raised an eyebrow at her daughter. She didn't like Allison's shirt. "Don't wear that shirt again! It's too baggy on you!"

As always, e-mails are welcome at sarkel_bard@yahoo.com