Days 9-12....25,054

Mr. Morris was rather intrigued, but he figured it best to not push his luck.  He got up and began to head to the door.  He was in the the hallway that led to the entrance when he heard footsteps nearly above him.  Some part of him wanted to go back and confront Leo.
    But his rational mind prevailed.  He knew that he was in the wrong place to confront him about anything.  He was in the kid's house.  His authority that granted him courage to speak up at school did not extend this far.  he was outside of his realm, but years of artificial boldness had strengthened his resolve in most situations.
    The hesitation was minor, not enough to be noticed by most anyone, but in that moment, Mr. Morris found himself face to face with a large family portrait done entirely out of oils.
    It was the kind of family portrait one expected to see in castles and mansions in the hills of Europe.  It wasn't something he expected to find here.  Mr. Morris took a second to examine it.  Studying the characters as well as the signature in the bottom corner.
    He was not an art aficionado, but her recognized the name: Charlie Frye.  The artist had built quite a reputation over the last decade or so.  However, the portrait was clearly from his earliest work.  The boy, presumably Leo, wasn't but two or perhaps three years old. 
    And there was no noticeable characterization.  Most of Frye's later work looked like caricatures making a statement. 
    Mr. Morris heard the footsteps again.  This time he knew they were descending.  Who ever it was, was coming down from a higher level in the house.  The tricky part of the house was that each level led to different levels.  You couldn't walk straight down any one side.
    Mr. Morris imagined that to a mythological giant, it must have looked like a ferret's cage with the partial floors and off set levels.  It was, he had to admit, an interesting design.  There was a lot of potential for segmenting the family or guests.  Unlike newer homes with wide open floor plans, this house was about dividing and conquering in smaller sizes.
    Mr. Morris made the rest of the way down the hall.  His instinct was to run, but he tried to remain calm and take the walk as naturally as possible.  He of course failed to look the least bit natural.  Luckily, no one was actually watching his hasty retreat.
    As he let himself out, Mr. Morris could hear a bellowing voice cry out.  He wasn't sure what the voice was screaming about, but he was certain he didn't want to wait around just in case it was about him.  He slammed the door, accidentally, and quickened his pace to his car.
    He was transported from reality to the weird confines of an over active imagination in those few feet.  He knew there was nothing to be concerned about.  Even if whoever the master of the house turned out to be was extremely unpleasant about him being on the property, it was unlikely that anyone would shoot him for it.  So the worst that would happen was an uncomfortable exchange of unpleasantness.
    Mr. Morris had been verbally attacked before; after all, he was a high school teacher.  He had faced down his fair share of momma bears and demon dads.  He knew what it felt like to be right on the edge of being physically attacked by a parent.
    It didn't happen often, but when it did, the chemicals his brain would release were traumatizing in their own right.  He hated the adrenaline rush of the flight or fight stage.  It meant he had lost control involuntarily.  His body had preformed a system override.
    He didn't think of it as a pleasant experience.
    He took a few deep breaths as he eased himself into the car.  No need to panic he kept telling himself.  The thing was, he didn't really believe himself.  He knew he should.  Logic tended to prevail if you'd just let it.
    He started the car and carefully maneuvered it to make his exit.  In the rear view mirror he took a last look at the door.  The curtain at the sidelight moved slightly, and Mr. Morris was certain he had seen someone, perhaps Leo, standing there watching him go.
    As he let the car wind down the hill, the gate opened in expectation of his departure.  He was glad to be gone from that house, but he still had no more answers than when he had come and had added a few more questions.
    He was going to have to investigate the parent issue.  If that boy was living on his own, even with the help, someone needed to do something.
    It was neglect or who knows what really, but Mr. Morris intended to find out.  The happy smiling kid in the oil painting had grown into a creepy teenager, and Mr. Morris intended to discover what he could.
  He wondered if he had no inclination of who his mystery savior was if he would have worked this hard to discredit him.  He thought about it being Jake who saved his life instead of Leo.  Would he have tried to show that Jake was no good?  Most likely not.   Jake was an idiot, but being a simpleton was not something one could help.
    The truth was that Mr. Morris was out to ruin the kid who may have saved his life.  He felt ashamed.  He had judged that boy without any merit.  And now he was looking for things to support his hypothesis.  He was in a sense manipulating the data to suit his predetermined predictions.
    But Mr. Morris also knew that at his age, he wasn't likely to change.  There were behaviors that people had that fit like old t-shirts.  It didn't matter how thread bare the routine was, it fit.  It didn't matter if the shirt had gone out of style, it was comfortable.  So it was with behavior. 
    When Mr. Morris got home, he fell into some old behaviors that had comforted him for years.  He climbed the stairs to the second floor, went into his master bathroom, and ran a hot bubble bath.
    He had picked up the habit of bubble baths from his mother.  She sold Avon and always had bottles of it laying around.  She then spent the rest of her life giving them as gifts.  It was good stuff too. 
    Life tended to keep Mr. Morris from the simple pleasure of a hot soak in the tub.  Generally, he was busy and couldn't afford the time, or he simply wouldn't allocate the time.  But after his strange encounter, he needed to relax.
    Chamomile and Lavender should do the trick.  He put Mumford and Sons on repeat and let his body sink into the steaming hot water.  Leaning his head back on the high back of the tub, he sunk into a kind of heady place between sleep and being awake.
    He was suddenly thankful for little things.  He was thankful that he had splurged when remolding the master bathroom and put in the massive cast iron tub.  It was archaic and reminiscent of a time long since past, but it was also regal and charming.  It had edge too.  Especially since he had put the shower current around it.  It was just like a tub from some B rate horror movie.  It was free standing, not pushed against a wall.
    He was thankful for his steady employment over the years.  It was nice not having to worry about income.  Teaching wasn't going to make him rich, but it did allow him to live comfortably.  There is a lot to be said for comfortable living. 
    He was thankful that his daughter seemed to turn out okay so far.  He always worried that raising her alone would warp her somehow.  She was an honor student, didn't dress like a woman of ill repute, and wasn't boy crazy as far as he knew, and maybe that was kind of warped in today's day and age, but he wasn't going to complain about that kind of warping. 
    He pulled the plug and let the water run out for a few minutes before he decided he was ready to stand and towel off.  Once back in his room, he found his favorite jeans for lounging around the house.  They were two sizes too big, from his heavier days.  The were well worn but whole.  He liked the feel of them.  He couldn't wear them anywhere else since they practically fell off of him. 
    He paired the jeans with his favorite shirt.  Just a plain blue pocket t-shirt.  It reminded him of his dad.  His dad wore slacks and button downs for nearly every day of his life, but on rare occasions, he would wear a pair of jeans and a pocket t-shirt.  Of course, his dad was from another generation.  A generation who saw denim as work clothes unsuitable for daily wear.
    Today's kids wore Dickies like they were stylish not like the rugged work clothes they were designed to be.  But then to be fair, marketing had a lot to do with societal changes.  As a society we're easily swayed by advertising.
    Comfortable and relaxed, Mr. Morris headed downstairs to put his feet up in his favorite recliner.  He would be glad to put this weird day behind him.  As he walked down the stairs, he made his way into the den.  Yes he had a den.  Den's had gone out of fashion, but Mr. Morris treasured his, no television, no distractions, just comfortable furniture and pleasant bookshelves.
    He heard Lissa's voice in the living room and figured she was still working on her English paper.  He took a moment to catalog the voices.  There were two, which at first seemed odd, but was easy to dismiss since the others could have just gone home.  Lissa's voice was the easiest to hear and recognize, not just because she was his daughter but also because she tended to project her voice.
    The second voice was troubling.  He had heard it on more than one occasion but it wasn't immediately placeable.  Mr. Morris eased himself into his chair and pushed, causing it to recline.  He continued to listen to the voices, trying to hear enough of the second to place it.  Unfortunately, the second voice was soft, like whoever it was was talking through a pillow.  The voice was little more than a mumble when it reached Mr. Morris's ears.
    He closed his eyes to concentrate.  He knew he could just walk over and look, but he didn't want to.  He wanted to relax.  With his eyes clothed and less sensory input, it became easier to pick out the strange voice.
    Images began to flash in his mind, quite involuntarily.  They were linked to the voice in his memory.  Mr. Morris's heart started to race.  He felt the palms of his hands start to sweat.  The voice was the same one from the night he was attacked.  Not the attackers, but the good Samaritan. 
    He lurched forward righting his chair and moving quickly through the kitchen that separated the den from the living room.  As he descended into the room, Lissa looked up and smiled, "Hi Daddy, is everything okay?"
    The other voice had his back to Mr. Morris.  Hearing the rapid movements of Mr. Morris and the concern in Lissa's voice, the body belonging to the voice stood up and turned.
    He didn't need to turn around his long mess of hair and duster made it easy to tell it was Leo.
    "Hello, Mr. Morris," Leo said in a voice dripping with poison honey.
    "Hello, Leo," Mr. Morris said apprehensively.  "To what do we owe this unexpected visit?"
    "Leo, came to ask for help on the English paper.  He missed everyone else, but he already had a good grasp on the assignment."
    "But Lissa was very good at explaining it so I understood better," Leo said, staring at Mr. Morris through his hair.
    Mr. Morris was trying to make sense of the whole situation.  Leo, while antisocial, was always an honor student.  He didn't need help on any assignment.  He'd been known to do group projects on his own and better than most groups.  Plus there was the tone and the looks.
    Leo was staring at Mr. Morris with a look in his eyes that said, 'I know things and you should be concerned.'
    Mr. Morris tried to think about his exchange with the servants at Leo's house.  Did he introduce himself?  He couldn't remember.  Did Leo see him leaving?  He didn't think so.
    Mr. Morris was struggling to understand why Leo was suddenly in his living room.  He became acutely aware of the fact that he had fallen silent and Lissa and Leo were just staring at him.
    "Well, I'm so glad it wasn't a wasted trip," Mr. Morris said overemphasizing wasted.
    "Not at all, it was quite informative, but unfortunately, I need to be leaving.  I have pressing family matters that need to be dealt with," Leo said taking a half bow and moving towards the door.
    Mr. Morris had squared off with other men before.  He had stood toe to toe with men twice his size.  He knew the familiar dance of alpha males circling and looking for a chink in the armor or a hole in the defenses.  Mr. Morris knew he had showed his hand and whether he liked it or not, he was now in the midst of the dance.
    "Are you sure?  You should stay for dinner.  We'd love to have you," Mr. Morris said.
    "No, there things I must attend to, but thank you for the offer.  Another time perhaps," Leo said.
    "Yes, another time, I'm sure," Mr. Morris said.
    Lissa watched the whole scene with a curious amusement.  Leo was creeping her out a bit less since they had talked.  She still wasn't sure that he hadn't been creeping outside the house.  He spoke in a way that seemed to formal.  His words were so deliberate.  You could tell that he thought about each syllable before one left his lips.  There was also a hint of an accent that Lissa couldn't place.
    Her father's part in the exchange was equally odd.  She had never seen him with his shackles up like this.  She had seen her father riled up over policy changes or disrespectful students, but there was something much more primal about this exchange.
    The testosterone was palpable.  It was disturbing and exciting all at the same time.  If they were wild animals, Lissa imagined that Leo would have been a wolf perhaps and her dad a papa bear protecting his cub.  Lissa wasn't sure that she liked her dad in this new role.  She was certain she didn't like Leo posturing like she was a prize. 
    She definitely didn't like the two of them acting like she had no say in what would happen.  She was not interested in Leo, so there was no reason for her dad to protect her from him.  The whole thing was vexing to the Nth degree.
    "What was all of that?" Lissa asked.
    "What was all of what?" Mr. Morris said.
    "The whole gorillas in the mist routine," Lissa said following her father into the kitchen.
    Mr. Morris opened the refrigerator door and looked for something that would appease his pallet.  His afternoon had left a bad taste in his mouth.  "That analogy doesn't make any sense.  Gorillas in the Mist was a movie with Sigourney Weaver.  She played a scientist studying mountain gorillas."
    "Whatever, you two were feeling each other out.  It was like two primates in the middle of a turf war.  I'm just glad humans learned to wear pants or I'm pretty sure you two would have been peeing all over the place," Lissa said.
    To his credit, Mr. Morris didn't react.  He simply pulled a bottle of juice out of the fridge and walked to the table to pour himself a glass.  "You are being ridiculous."
    "Say what you want, but you two were moments away from a dance fight or something equally weird.  I'm just saying," Lissa said.
    Lissa walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her room.  The past few weeks were just too weird.  The Leo stuff, the Jake stuff, her dad's attack all added up to a Lissa with a mind that wouldn't slow down.
    She grabbed her ipod and fell back on her bed.  Without thinking about it, she slid the ear buds into her ears and closed her eyes.  Shuffle.  That's what she needed.
    She'd let the music dictate the thoughts.  Bad Company was first up.  That was a Dad song.  She never would have found the English super group without her father.  He listened to a little bit of everything, but if it was classic rock or folky, she immediately thought of him.  He had been overly good to her since her mother left.  She had tried to be a good daughter, and they rarely fought.  She prayed that the attack was random and not something to worry about, but it was hard to completely dismiss the act of violence.
    As the song changed to Black Eyed Peas, she shifted her thoughts to Jake.  The song just reminded her of him because of the energy.  He was fun to be around.  He was like gum.  There was no nutritional value, zero calories, and no fat.  But there was an explosion of flavor and fun.  He seemed interested in her to an extent.  They were going to double with Cindy and Ralph on Saturday.  He never seemed overly interested himself.  She wondered if that was his strategy.  If he never showed too much interest, would girls show more interest?  It seemed to be working for him.
    When "Too Young" by Phoenix came on, Lissa shifted to Leo.  The sound was from the soundtrack to "Lost in Translation" and a little weird.  That was Leo in a nutshell.  Something seemed to be lost in translation.  It was like watching a foreign television show without the subtitles.  You thought you got the story line down based on words and physical reactions, but you weren't quite sure.
    Men were complicated animals.  She liked life more before she cared about any of the girly stuff.  She thought life might be easier if she just forgot about prom and all of it.  Somehow, she didn't think life worked quite that way.  You couldn't just stop a chemical reaction.  He father had taught her that much. 
    You could slow it, or alter it, but completely stopping it just wasn't going to happen.  Miley Cyrus came through the ear buds.  Lissa was ashamed that she even had Miley Cyrus on her ipod, but sometimes it fit her mood.  And sometimes, you just need that kind of music.
    She also had weird blue grass, British punk, 80s alternative, and even some 50s doo-wop.  Her musical interests were varied.  The male characters in her life were varied too.  The female characters tended to be princesses, and she was never quite comfortable with them.
    Life was just getting too complicated.  She wanted things to simultaneously slow down and speed up.  She was wishing the last year of school away so that she could see how it all turned out.  Why couldn't life be more like movies?  Why couldn't she have some special power?
    She drifted off to sleep...
    "Is this a dream?" Lissa asked looking around.  She was in her room but something was off.  It was like an old movie where they cover the camera with a color lens to create the sense of night.  She thought about seeing shadows in night scenes in movies like "South Pacific."
    "Do you want it to be a dream?"
    "Who is that?  Who said that?"  Lissa jumped up off her bed letting her ipod drop into the pile of covers.  She spun around trying to find the source of the voice.  She was alone in her room.
    "Over here," the voice said. 
    Lissa turned toward her vanity.  It had belonged to her father's grandmother.  It had ornate drawers and a velvet covered stool that fit perfectly between the two rows of drawers.  The wood was cherry and the lacquer had been refinished within the last decade and well cared for.  Mr. Morris was so excited to be able to give it to Lissa. 
    She often sat in front of the mirror combing her hair and thinking of the woman she never really knew sitting in the same seat and doing the same thing.  It was nice to be connected to her past in a physical way.
    She approached the mirror like it were a snarling dog that could at any moment leap into attack mode. 
    "I'm not going to bite."
    Lissa looked into the mirror and saw herself, not her reflection.  She expected to see herself.  She did not expect to see herself doing anything other than what she was doing.  The mirror Lissa was seated and combing her hair.  She had on the elaborate yellow dress that Lissa had worn to the Sadie Hawkins dance. 
    "How? But? I don't.  If."  Lissa couldn't pull together a complete thought.
    "It's a dream.  It doesn't have to make sense."
    "Okay, so what are you like my subconscious or super ego or alter ego or what?" Lissa asked.
    "Just sit down and let's talk," the mirror Lissa said.
    "Okay," Lissa said sitting down opposite herself.  She picked up her brush and began mimicking the actions of the other her.
    "Why are you doing that?" the Lissa in the mirror asked.
    "You're the one who said this didn't have to make sense."
    "Touche, so I came to talk to you about what's to come.  You probably won't remember too much of this when you wake up but don't ever forget and promise me you'll always remember: You're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think," said the mirror Lissa.
    "Is that it?"
    No response.
    "Seriously, you set this up to give me some Christopher Robin advice?  You've got to be kidding me.  I'd rather you said give Leo a chance or Jake is really into you.  Why this?"
    "I don't know.  It is your dream.  Perhaps you lack any real thoughts about what to do.  I bet if you think hard enough, it will all make perfect sense.  Here," mirror Lissa reached out her hand.
    The real Lissa put her hands out to receive whatever it was.  When the hand coming out of the mirror opened, rays of bright sunlight shone all over Lissa's hand. 
    Lissa looked at her glowing hand and asked, "What is it?"
    "Light.  Go ahead and illuminate the subject some."
    Lissa looked around her only to realize she was no longer in her bedroom but standing outside on a rock outcropping with an amazing view.  As the rocks slopped off into the treeline, two paths emerged.
    Lissa walked to the edge of the rocks and looked as far down each path as she could.  The first was open and well worn.  the path was clear and well marked.  Lissa thought that that would be the route to go.  It would be easy to walk that path.  But something deep inside Lissa made her feel like she was missing something.
    She turned her attention to her hand.  It wasn't glowing at all.  She moved to the other trail.  As she got closer, her hand started to emit light.  Using her hand raised above her head, Lissa walked down the second path.
    Unlike the first path path, this path looked difficult to follow.  It was grown over and covered with mean looking briers and clinging climbing vines that were chocking out the other plants.  Lissa was fairly certain that she saw glowing red eyes in the trees. 
    "What was it I said to myself?  I'm braver than I believe."  Lissa held up her glowing hand and moved into the overgrown and nightmarish path.  As she walked she heard scampering feet scatter in all directions, but she saw nothing move.  She wondered if the strength she had mentioned to herself would be physical or mental.
    She didn't have to wait long to get her answer.  A large dead tree blocked her path.  She squatted down and grabbed the tree.  Her arms somehow wrapped around it and she threw it like a grown man throwing a pencil.  "I'm stronger than I seem."
    The next several feet of the trail was blocked every few paces by something that Lissa had to pick up and move.  Cars, subway cars, transit buses, trees, you name it and one would show up in front of Lissa.  As time went by, Lissa could tell that her body wasn't going to be able to continue at this pace, but she knew she was stronger than she seemed so she pressed on.
    Suddenly, the woodland terrain gave way to slick fine finished walls.  Lissa was in a maze.  She would have to think her way out. 
    She tried making left and right turns on an alternating basis.  She didn't have any logical reason for approaching it that way, but she was banking on her lack of reason to pull her through.  Truth be told, she was done with the game and began wishing walls down.  As if responding to her thoughts, the walls sunk into the floor.  Standing not but ten feet away, was the center of the circle.  "I'm smarter than I believe," Lissa said reinforcing the advice she had given herself.
    In the center circular there were two men tied back to back against a pole.  They were bonded together.  Around their feet were piles of cartoonish looking wooden logs. 
    "So you're both tied together and about to go up in flames.  Let me think about the symbolism," Lissa said.
    "Hurry," Jake said nodding his head behind her.
    Lissa followed his gaze and saw the trail of gas on the floor leading to their pile of wood.  Suddenly she was assulted with the stench of gas. 
    Her ears were hit with the sound of flint and stone striking.  She had to think quickly.  She hated having to think on her feet.
    "You're tied together because you're connected somehow.  Probably not a family thing, but you are related somehow.  the logs are I'm not sure maybe they're things that are said, fuel for the fire.  I think that maybe somehow you two aren't exactly what we see.  Like you have layers that people often miss.  It's like our first impressions of you are not true and that you are good at hiding pain or upset.  That's a way you're both the same.  But you're very different in what either of you will or wont say to me or in front of me," Lissa rambled on.
    As the fire rushed up past her legs, she turned and dove out of the way of the blast.  But no blast ever came.  She looked back at where the boys were and they were gone. 
    "I hate dreams that mean something," she yelled to no one in particular.  Just then a large pink rabbit bounced past her and disappeared into a hole that looked a lot like a life saver.
    "So I have some control here," Lissa thought out loud.  She tried to concentrate hard to manipulate the dream.
    Suddenly the boys appeared in front of her again.  "That's better.  Now tell me why you are both weighing so heavy on my mind," Lissa said.
    Suddenly two gigantic legs appeared behind the boys.  The pants looked semi-familiar, but she couldn't quite place them.  When she looked up the torso and head of the giant disappeared into the clouds.
    Jake opened his mouth to speak, and the moment he did, the leg behind him raised up and came down on him.  Lissa turned her head not wanting to see him get squished.  But no noise came.  She peeked back in his direction to see that he wasn't smashed just pushed into a hole like he was in a giant wack-a-mole game.
    Leo tried to speak next and received the same fate.  When the leg came off one or the other of the boys, they would pop up and try to speak.  But the minute they did, they got stepped on.  Finally the legs stood over both boys and squatted down.
    As the head came out of the clouds, she realized that the legs belonged to her father.  He tilted his head down close to her and said, "Be the change you wish to see in the world."
    "Ghandi?  This recycled advice is weak.  I can't believe that my psyche can't come up with better," Lissa said frustrated with the direction the dream was going.
    Her dad shook his giant head like he always did when he tried to explain something to Lissa that she didn't get.  "Never pet a burning dog."
    "What the crap?" Lissa asked.  Suddenly her father's massive arms reached out and shook her over and over again. 
    "Never pet a burning dog.  Never pet a burning dog.  Never pet a burning dog," he kept saying on each shake. 
    Lissa said up.  There were hands holding her shoulders.  She opened her eyes expecting to see her giant dream father but instead he was replaced by her regular sized father.  He was mouthing something to her, but she couldn't hear over the Violent Femmes song playing through her ipod.  She reached up and pulled the ear buds out.
    "Are you okay?  You were having a nightmare i think," Mr. Morris said pulling his daughter into an embrace.  "I heard you yelling, and when I came in you were asleep."
   

Day Eight....20060....

While Mr. Morris careened through town and out the other side, Lissa was studying, much to Cindy's dismay.  The had created several Venn diagrams and some flow charts to illustrate the connections they all saw between the characters. 
    Cindy tried on several occasions to derail the Hamlet talk, but her attempts generally fell flat.  "Who do you think was better in bed, the Prince of Denmark or the King of the Geats?"
    "It's pronounced Yeah-ats not Geets," Ralph said.
    "Let's get naked," Cindy said, not so much serious as testing who was really listening.      No one blinked or responded at all.  "I'm going to get a drink.  Anyone else want something?  Okay then."
    The other three were deep in thought planning and roughing out their papers.  Cindy hadn't come over to do work; she'd come over to be a match maker.  She was trying to get Jake and Lissa hooked up.  "This is impossible," she said to herself as she made her way into the kitchen. 
    She leaned into the fridge and rooted around looking for something  a little less healthy than milk or juice.  She was having trouble believing that there wasn't anything interesting in the fridge at all.  No beer in hidden in the crisper.  No soda or sugary sweet drinks. 
    Lissa was farther gone than Cindy had feared.  Any girl who lived in a house where the most exciting drink in it was a  bottle of white cranberry peach juice wasn't likely to get let alone keep a guy.  Guys needed some edge on a girl.
    Cindy wasn't sure if what she felt next was real or not, but she went with it.  There were hands wrapping around her waist.  Normally she wold have jerked and been freaked out, but she was in need of a little excitement.
    She straightened herself up to see if she could tell which boy followed her to the kitchen by pushing back into him.  It had to be Ralph.  She figured she'd wait to see what he was up to.  No point leading him on if he was just being a little extra friendly.
    "I don't know exactly what you've been trying to do," Ralph said into Cindy's ear, "but it's getting hard not to notice."  Ralph bit her playfully on the earlobe. 
    Cindy purred, "Umm, I thought you were playing for the my team?"
    "I don't like to limit my options," Ralph said kissing Cindy's neck.
    "Lissa is trying to get Jake's attention.  I'm trying to help.  I've always been a fan of underdog stories," Cindy said wiggling free and spinning to face Ralph.    She let herself be tucked into his hulking frame.  "Want to double with them?  You bring Jake for Lissa, and I'll bring all this and more for you," Cindy said leaning in and playfully kissing Ralph just before biting his lip.
    "Ouch," Ralph said startled.  "You're on.  Let's take them to the movies Saturday night."
    Cindy wiggled completely free and shook her hips as she walked back into the living room.  She looked over her shoulder and said, "Oh it's on for sure.  This weekend is going to be so legit!"
    On the other side of town, Mr. Morris was trying to talk himself out of following through with his plan.  It wasn't a plan so much as an idea with a direction.  He was going to go to Leo's house and ring the doorbell.  That was where the planning ended. 
    As he crossed the bridge out of town and went over the lake, he started to wonder whether it was worth pursuing.  If the kid wanted to remain anonymous, perhaps he should let him.
    No it would never work.  Mark Morris always had to see a theory through.  It didn't matter if he proved it or disproved it, but he never quit until he had accomplished one of those.
    In this case, he was hoping to prove his theory that Leo was a strange boy who should be avoided.  Mr. Morris was not a fan of any would be villain with a soft tender side hidden under the rough exterior.  He liked his villains to be mean and evil through and through.  No point in humanizing monsters.  No point giving more credit to little actions than they truly deserved.
    No a villain should be a villain.  It wasn't that Mr. Morris didn't believe that people could change or wee changed.  He knew that life could alter how one interacted with the world; nevertheless, he had no desire to allow that to ruin a theory that he had since childhood.
    Some people are just evil.
    A lot of people like to believe that everyone and I mean everyone is inherently good.  That even serial killers and axe murderers have some redeeming quality hidden deep inside.  Mr. Morris didn't believe that so much as he believed that at the core of all people lay the ability to be ruthlessly evil.  Not an inner good so much as an inner bad. 
    It took discipline to be good.  You had to work at it.  It wasn't the default setting that somehow got twisted to bad because of life.  You either learned to be a contributing member of society or you didn't.  That was the whole purpose of social mores and norms. 
    Society dictated what was and wasn't acceptable.  In other cultures, some of our traditions or beliefs would be viewed as extreme or ridiculous, just as our culture misunderstand and interprets the beliefs and traditions of other cultures. 
    That was the one truth in life.  Location dictated normalcy.  The cliche of "When in Rome..." was Mr. Morris's basic framework for the society he lived in.
    Kids like Leo seemed to buck the norm for no reason other than it suited them.  That, to Mr. Morris, was unacceptable.  If you don't like the way something works, you don't try to change the world to fit your mold.  You either change yourself or relocate.  That's how communities and civilizations have been built and destroyed for millennium. 
    No point changing all of that now.
    At the root, that was his biggest issue with Leo.  Mind you it was not the only issue, just the biggest.  Other items he took offense at were Leo's choice of clothes.  He was not Van Helsing nor could they expect an attack of blood thirsty Indians.  Leo's choice of coat was questionable.
    Who in his right mind would by choice wear a jacket that put everyone on the defensive because it brought up images of school shootings?  Not to mention the fact that Leo always wore the jacket.  Even when it was freaking hot.
    The hair that Leo kept long was not a problem for Mr. Morris.  He could care less what any kid did with their hair.  Dye it purple, put stripes in it, polka-dots, shave it off, grow it long, just keep it out of your eyes.  Hiding behind hair to Mr. Morris was worse than shielding your face from the world with a hat.  Hats come off.  You can't ask a kid to comb his or her hair back so you can see his or her eyes.  You just don't.
    To Mr. Morris, the eyes truly did say more than the mouth ever would.  For that reason alone, Mr. Morris hated having Leo in class.
    The other minor but still important reason that Mr. Morris wanted Leo to be a bad person was because he was a male.  This wasn't an alpha male kind of thing.  It was just a fact that to date, Lissa had not shown much interest in anyone, guy or girl.  Nevertheless, Mr. Morris was fairly sure that his daughter was straight.  This led him to distrust every guy.
    In that respect, Mr. Morris was just following a standard set by generations of fathers who had come before him. 
    Mr. Morris tried to remember the last time he had been in Lago de Vita.  Lago de Vita was the first ever gated type of community to come to their town.  It had a little security hut that sometimes housed a local police officer, but generally was left empty. 
    The few streets on the hills surrounding the lake were heavily wooded.  It was a development planned to look unplanned.  No two houses were allowed by the home owners association to be built to look the same.  It gave the air of being eccentric and superfluous.  It was that kind of neighborhood.  The kind where people owned Harley's because they were a statement.  They also parked their hybrids right next to their hummers.
    It was a neighborhood that every generation longed to find a way into when they were young and still kind of longed for after they were grown.  Find someone who doesn't want to live in a mansion on the lake, and I'll find you someone who lies.
    Mr. Morris followed the twists and turns past the old neighborhood, the original four roads.  He climbed the hill at the back of the development and stopped.  He reached into the passenger seat and double checked his address.
    He was in the right place.  He couldn't believe that Leo Savages home of record was this place.  He had never been to the house, but everyone knew about it.
    As you drove down route 38, you couldn't miss it in the distance.  Built to be seen from space, the house stood like a challenge to the hills and lake.  It looked out over the lake and wore the mountains behind it like a cape.
    The property was somewhat creepy, but Mr. Morris pressed on.  He knew he'd never get up the courage to get this close again.  He had to pull the band aide off.
    He pulled up to the gate, laughing at the irony of a gated house in a gated community.  He put his window down and pressed the intercom button.  He thought about pretending he thought he was at a fast food restaurant and placing an order when someone finally answered. 
    Back when he used to bring his dates to Loga de Vita he would have.  He remembered when he and an old girlfriend named Jen had sat across from one of the houses just to see someone use the elevator.  Just looking at the houses constituted a date, but inventing games to go with the site seeing was typically worth bonus points with dates.
    "Bonjour," came a voice from the speaker.
    "Ahh bonjour, with whom am I speaking?" Mr. Morris asked starting to doubt his directions.
    "My name is Samantha Lumiere.  Pourquoi?" Sam asked.
    "I'm sorry. Je suis désolé.  I was looking for the Savage residence," Mr. Morris said turning his attention to the  black wrought iron gates.  Each side was ornately adorned with a letter S over three feet tall.
    "Pardon, Moi!  I have been rude.  Please come in."
    The gates opened without a single creek or groan, which Mr. Morris found to be more unnerving than if they had made every creepy horror movie noise he could pull from the recesses of his mind.
  He followed the drive up to the house, which was remarkably modern considering the grandeur of it.  that wasn't to say that newer construction was never stately, but in Mr. Morris's experiences, most insanely rich families tended to enjoy the tradition and majesty of classical construction.
    This house was like something out of Frank Loyd Wright's plan book.  Large unsupported slabs of concrete seemed to defy gravity at every level, of which there was easily eight in the two story building. 
    The house was stately without being Gothic vogue.  It cried eccentric, a far cry from the norm.  This bothered Mr. Morris because it meant that the proverbial apple had not fallen far from the tree.  Tradition dictates for a reason.  Excess was fine as long as it was within the realm of social acceptability.
    Mr. Morris pulled his car up by the front steps.  The parking area sprawled in random directions that ended in rock that could be garage doors or just part of the mountain.  It was difficult to say.
    The stairs to the front door were deep, shallow layers of flat river rock.  It looked like water pouring from the door would have been the most natural part of the whole house.  Mr. Morris could hear water, but he couldn't see where the cascades were.  This bothered him.  It confirmed his suspicions that Leo was devious.
    "Come in, Bonjour, Bonjour," said a woman who couldn't have been much older than twenty five, gracefully curtsying.  While she didn't have on the traditional french maid outfit, she was clearly a servant.  The formality of her dress easily separated her from other young men or women of her age.  She led Mr. Morris down a dark hallway,  up a few stairs, around a corner to where a large delicately hand carved table and chairs sat with plates and silverware set.
    "Thank you.  You've been most hospitable and don't even know who I am yet.  Allow me to introduce myself, I--"
    "Need to be going," another girl came tumbling out of the adjoining room.  "Sam, what the crap?"  Mr. Morris was taken aback by the lack of accent and charm the second girl possessed.
    "Jessica, I was bored.  Damn, we never have any fun.  Why can't I pretend to be French an all like French?" Samantha asked, losing her French accent.
    "Because you are neither French nor allowed.  You know the master will kill us if he finds out we let in a stranger.  The gates are there for a reason, ya know. Do you want to get us all thrown out?  I'm not going back to scanning groceries at Fair Value."
    "Jeeze," Sam said, "You're so over reacting.  He won't even know.  But you totally ruined my fun.  I'm sorry, but you're going to have to go.  Old Cogsworth thinks that because she's the nanny," Sam made air quotes around the word Nanny, "that she gets to call all of the shots."
    "I meant no trouble," Mr. Morris said instinctually backing toward the low flight of stairs he had come in on.
    A swinging door was pushed open by the backside of a middle aged woman in an apron, "Get it while it's hot."
    Sam took a deep bow, "Monsieur Morris," she said resuming her French accent, "may it please you to make the acquaintance of Mademoiselle Potts, the chef and," a child of nine or ten ran out under his mother's full arms, "her punctual for all meals son, Chip."
    Mr. Morris bowed.  He laughed a little mostly to himself.  "You realize that you all have names like the characters...never mind."
    "Well, there should be plenty, but if the master comes in, we're all out on the street," Mrs. Potts said.
    A crashing could be heard from above.  Something had been smashed through a window from the sound of it.  The whole room winced.
    "Maybe I should just go," Mr. Morris said.
    "Great idea," Jessica said pushing him toward the exit.
    "You know what?  He needs to get over it.  Do you remember what this place used to be like?  When my dad was entertainment coordinator?  I mean what entertainment do I ever get to coordinate?" Sam said in a huff.
    "Now, now.  Let's just eat," Mrs. Potts said ushering everyone into seats.  She disappeared behind the swinging door and returned with a serving tray on each hand. 
    "This is quite a spread," Mr. Morris said.  "Do the Savages ever attend dinner?"
    "Ha!  That's rich.  Look we work here out of family loyalty, and we run the house the way we have been taught to run the house.  We have dinner promptly every night at five.  If Leo or anyone else should choose to join us, then they may.  Dinner has been served in this household every night for generations.  We are not about to change it just because the master of the house chooses to not attend," Mrs. Potts said cutting Chips chicken into bite sized portions.
    "You all keep mentioning Leo, but what about Mr. and Mrs. Savage?" Mr. Morris asked.
    "Enough," Jessica said.  "I'm glad that the rest of you have forgotten your place.  I have not.  Mr. Morris, please fix a plate to take with you if you like, but you must leave.  You are not supposed to be here.  Sam should have never let you in."
    Jessica's cold hard stares made the rest of the servants lower their heads.  Mr. Morris didn't want any of them to get in trouble on his behalf. That he was sure of.  He had seen quite enough. 
    His suspicions were quite confirmed with the crashing and lack of respect for long standing family traditions.  Mr. Morris didn't need to see anything else.  He knew that while Leo may or may not have saved his life, he owed the  nothing. 
    Leo had asked for nothing in return for his actions and Mr. Morris was fine with leaving things that way.  He didn't want to think about the words Leo had spoken to him when he was laid out on the table.
    He would focus on what he wanted to focus on, see what he wanted to see.  Life tended to be easier if you chose to avoid the facts that didn't help your case.  It had worked for years and years with politicians.

Day Seven...still on track but not where i'd like to be 17158

As Lissa walked down the stairs into the family room to get ready for their study session, she couldn't help but wonder why she was trying so hard.  She didn't feel natural, so that meant she obsessed about how she looked.  It's hard to be natural or act natural when you don't feel natural.

            Jake liking her seemed so paramount.  It was as if her whole high school career was hinging on this one event that Lissa knew would matter very little in a decade.  Nevertheless, it didn't matter, but it was immensely important.  She had taken care of her grades and participated in enough clubs and extra curricular activities to fill out her resume. 

            The only part of high school that she had some how missed was boys and dating.  It wasn't like she had been pining for boys; she hadn't.  She only recently became aware of the fact that she had never had a boyfriend.  But like a sudden craving for Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia, there would be no easing the urges without getting the real thing.

            "Are you sure I look okay?" Lissa asked.

            "Yeah, totally legit.  He's going to be all about you!" Cindy said.

            The girls busied themselves getting the room ready and microwaving pizza poppers for the boys.  Mr. Morris couldn't take the overt girly-ness oozing off of Lissa.  He had seen enough.

            "Lissa, I'm going out for a bit.  Be good, be careful, and stay out of the liquor."

            "Dad, we're studying, not partying," Lissa said offended.

            "Yeah well, I just wanted to make sure I covered all of the bases.  Have fun kids," Mr. Morris said letting himself out.

            He wasn't sure why he couldn't leave this thing alone, but he had to see it through.  He may not have asked Mr. Andrews to put Leo and Lissa at a table together, he was glad he abandoned those types of plans, but he did get Mr. Andrews to look up Leo's info in the computer.

            You always had access to your students' info, but once they weren't on your roster, you couldn't access it any more.  Mr. Morris didn't want to deal with the office or counseling department.  He just wanted to know where Leo lived.  He needed to know if he was the one who saved him and why.

            Following the directions he found on Google Maps, Mr. Morris navigated through town.  It was the town he had grown up in.  It seemed a lifetime ago when he lived in the little house on Fairmont with his parents and two older sisters.  They were all gone now.  His parents rested peacefully in Saint Francis's Cemetery on the far end of town.  His sisters had gone off to college and never returned for more than a short visit.

            His mother died relatively early.  She had never met Lissa's mom let alone Lissa.  When his father finally passed away, Mark had no idea what to do with the house.  He had already bought his place out in Charter Acres.  His sisters didn't care.

            So he sorted and packed and sold.  He regretted the sale of the house every time he drove within a two-block radius of the old place.  It had been bought and sold a few times since he originally sold it, but he still somehow felt responsible for anything that happened to the house.

            In a way he saw it as being done to his parents.  This was what bothered him most.  He loved an honored his parents.  He hated to see something that they poured love into fall into disrepair.  He considered buying the place every time it came back up for rent.  But he wasn't serious about it.  He still had no reason beyond sentimentality to buy a second home not ten minutes from the first.

            He'd had a good youth on these streets.  He did sometimes wish he had chosen to buy a place in town.  There was something magical about streetlights and sidewalks.

            He and Lissa's mom had bought the American Dream of the suburban life and never asked for change.  He knew Lissa had had a good childhood.  He never doubted that, but nonetheless, there was a difference.

            He laughed to himself and thought how it never really matters what you have or don't have unless you can be truly happy and that true happiness didn't come from locales outside oneself but from inside oneself.  

Day Six....16418

Opening her book back up, Lissa quickly started in on the homework.  Five minutes wasn't much time, and while most of the class was packing up, she knew she should at least get a jump on it.  Lissa didn't really want much.  But lately life seemed out of focus.
    Not all that long ago, she went to school, concentrated on her studies, helped take care of her dad, and thought about colleges.  Ever since she decided she wanted a boy to notice her, things were going haywire. 
    Lissa was in thought, but her pencil was not.  Thanks to the power of rote memorization and a solid understanding of algebraic concepts, she could actually work problems and think about something completely different at the same exact time.  Probably not Mr. Andrew's preferred method, but it was effective.
    It was terribly early to be thinking prom, but for the past three years, Lissa had avoided prom.  She had no desire to spend that kind of money on a dress that wouldn't be worn again.  She also didn't like the idea of gyrating all over some random boy who bought condoms because it's prom night and every teenage boy thinks that prom is an aphrodisiac.
    Nevertheless, the past was the past and now suddenly having these cliched high school experiences meant something to her.  She didn't want to go off to college having never really been kissed.  She wanted to be able to talk about dances and games she attended.
    She wanted to make and have friends that you get excited to see when you come home from college during a break.  Unfortunately, she wasn't good at making friends.  It didn't matter if they were boys or girls.  She had no really really close friends.  The closest thing to a BFF was her dad, and that was just a sad and depressing thought.
    She had friends and was friendly with nearly everyone.  Garrett was the only person who antagonized her.  The thought of Garrett made her shiver.  The shiver came not from a repulsion to Garrett, but the nature of Garrett's intentions.
    Lissa wasn't a moron.  She knew that Garrett liked her.  That made her feel sick.  He was just slimy.  He had that ambulance chasing lawyer persona mixed with a little used car salesmen with just a hint of wife beater thrown in.  He could be very charming.  Unfortunately, he rarely was and never for good reasons.
    "BEEEP!"
    Class was over.  Lissa looked down, a little shocked.  She had finished nearly half her assignment in those few minutes before the bell.  Had she focused on the math she might have been finished entirely. 
    She gathered her things and nudged Leo.  Jerk or not she wouldn't let him sleep through lunch or where ever he went next.  She honestly couldn't remember if he was in her lunch period or not. 
    The halls were crowded and loud.  Lissa kept to the edge of the hallway, trying to avoid the random contacts of the herd.  Without ever being told to, the students seemed to know that if you stayed to the right you could travel around the building.  It was like a two lane highway between classes.
    "Lisssssaaaaa," hot breath tickled the back of Lissa's neck.  The smell of tobacco stung her nose as the smell crawled around her neck and invaded her olfactory.
    Lissa stopped.  A nearly impossible task as the traffic was moving and one person stopping could cause a major back up.  However, her tormentor knew she'd stop.
    It was what he liked the most about her.  Lissa was one of the only girls who stood up to him.  Other girls may have screamed or cried or implemented any number of basic animalistic defenses, but Lissa Morris was a rare creature.
    He thought of her like the killer bunny on that Monty Python movie.  "Look at the bones!" he would say when someone questioned his fascination with Lissa.  She had a tongue so sharp it could cut titanium.
    Garrett enjoyed a challenge.  Being as big and scary as he was, very few people, teachers included, ever challenged him.  Lissa always did.
    Suddenly, Garrett was the rock and Lissa was the kayak.  The river flowed around them, but she was in calm waters and he never moved as the wave of people hit and split around him.
    "Did you feel it?" Lissa asked.  A loaded question.
    "Feel what?" Garrett asked imitated the phone sex operators he had heard.  Even if lechery wasn't something he had to fake.  It was a primal attraction.  His bear to her bunny.
    "The chill in the air caused by the vacuum between your ears.  You're so incredibly dense that you can't even hold on to the fact that I find you repulsive and morally reprehensible.  You disgust me," Lissa said.
    "So you like me?" Garrett asked.
    "Oh yeah, I like you like I like a good yeast infection," she smiled with her lips but said "Go to hell" with her eyes.
    "So you need help making bread?" Garrett asked.
    Lissa had hoped that the yeast infection comment would turn him off.  She should have known better.  "Sure big guy," she said sounding sultry and touching his chest.  "How about we start with kneading the dough?" Lissa said running her hands up and down his chest.  "Would you like that?" she asked in a baby talk voice.
    "You know it," Garrett said reaching his meat hooks out to grab her.
    His hands never made contact with her.  She had slid her hands up to his shoulders and in one swift motion, she pulled with all she had and rammed her knee into the current location of his brain. 
    The knee to the groin was enough to make big tough Garrett yelp like a puppy who had its tail stepped on and double over in pain like an amateur boxer hit full force in the gut by Mike Tyson.
    Lissa spun on her heals and merged back out into traffic.  Garrett was swallowed by the tide. 
    Giggling, Lissa swung by her locker and dropped off everything she didn't need for lunch or her afternoon classes.  Garrett had given her a momentary reprise from her lack of friends thoughts.
    But as she descended the back stairwell into the cavernous cafeteria, she was suddenly reminded that she didn't have any real friends.
    She had friends, and Ralph was most certainly a good friend by most any definition, but weren't girls supposed to have girlfriends.  I was moments of weird gender related revelations that Lissa most despised her mother.
    She never really blamed her mother for seeking her own happiness, but Lissa often wondered if being raised with a woman in the house, she might not have turned out a little more, well girly.
    Lissa scanned the cafeteria for her normal lunch table.  It was filled with other girls, some of which were almost definitely each other's BFF.  She wondered if she asked, if any of the girls would consider her their BFF.  She would never ask.  It would be too embarrassing.
    She took her place at the table and began her evaluation of the girls.  THe lunch table consisted of eight regulars counting Lissa and a few rotating cast members.  The regulars were Lissa, Tiana, Mel (short for Melany), Mel's sister Ariel, Aurora, Aenira, Jasmine, and Cindy.
    For the most part they were pretty girls who were popular.  They weren't your typical mean girls, but as Lissa well knew, they all had their own stories and reasons for being extra nice to other people.
    Lissa listened with feigned interest as the girls talked about their respective prince charmings.  All the while, she was looking for a sign that she might be able to deepen her bond with one of the girls.
    Maybe then she'd have a confidant that she could trust enough that her mind wouldn't play the kind of nasty tricks it had been playing on her as of late.  She was beginning to see the visions of Leo and her insistence that her father had meddled as the symptoms of an over worked mind. 
    She did talk to her dad a lot, but he was her dad and a teacher in her school and there are some things a girl just doesn't want to talk to her dad about, like feminine hygiene, under garments, and boys.
    "Lissa," Aenira said, breaking Lissa's introspection.  "How was Sit-N-Eat with Jakey poo?"
    "He is so dreamy, but dumb as a rock," Ariel said.  "I'm sorry," she said after Mel cut her eyes at her little sister, "But I'm not lying."
    "It was good.  And so what?  So his happy meal came with two toys and no food.  Big deal.  He's sweet and silly.  Sometimes deep conversation is over rated," Lissa said giggling because she didn't really believe it herself.
    "I wouldn't want a long term anything with that boy, but I'd let him work out in my living room while I sat on the couch and watched," Aura said.  Cindy threw a french fry at her.  "What?  Like you wouldn't.  The boy is F-I-N-E fine!"
    Lissa laughed, "I just hope he notices me enough between now and next spring.  He spent most of the evening whispering jokes to Sandy."
    "Don't worry girl," Aenira said.  "Your prince is out there somewhere and in the mean time, why not do a little chasing.  You've never really tried to land a guy, so it'll take a little work, but you can do it."
    Lissa smiled.  Aenira was one of the prettiest girls in the school and next to Tiana's or Jamine's darker completion her skin was milky white.  She always wore red lipstick that made her look so pale. 
    The summer after the eighth grade Jasmine's parents had paid for the girls to all spend a week at the beach together.  Most of the girls were ecstatic, not Aenira.  She bought this thick zinc cream to make sure her skin wasn't damaged. 
    The other girls wore barely any block at all and tanned and darkened all week.  Aenira kept saying, "Laugh now, but when we're in our thirties and you look like a worn out leather handbag, don't come crying to me.
    The girls were sweet.  They were her friends but she had never really developed a  close friendship with any of them.  They had all been together since elementary school.  They all went to the same middle school and now would graduate from Epcot together.  Ariel was a younger, but the rest of the girls were applying to colleges just like Lissa was.
    A deep crimson tide came sweeping in on Lissa's face.  She suddenly realized that she had no clue where any of the other girls were applying.  She had hung out with all of them on one occasion or another.  She spent her lunch with them five days a week.  And yet she never really paid attention before.
    She felt guilty for being so self centered.  "Hey, Lissa.  Did you really knee Garrett in the groin?" Cindy asked randomly.
    "Yep, but he had it coming," Lissa said ashamed and proud at the same time.
    "He always has it coming.  But somehow he never manages to get it.  He probably considers that knee some type of foreplay," Mel said.
    "Not funny," Lissa said.
    "Why chase Jake when Garrett is all about you?" Ariel giggled.
    "I'll be sure to send him your way, Ariel," Lissa said.
    "Do it," Ariel replied.  "I'm serious.  I would love to snuggle up to him.  He might be a bit jerky at times but he's cute and funny."
    "He's a jerk, Ariel.  Leave that one alone," Mel said giving her sagely and sisterly advice.  "Remember, I dated the cretin.  I know the him that's under the creepy facade and it's even more creepy than than the facade."
    "If you say so," Ariel said unswayed.  "But given the chance this is one mistake I'd like to make for myself."
    The table fell silent as a new presence sat down.  Lissa was afraid to look because of the eerie silence.
    All eyes were on the person to her left, occupying the only empty seat at their table.  Was it Garrett?  No she's know that. 
    She turned her head, Jake.  "Hello, gorgeous," Jake said.  "So, Ralphy boy said you were having a powwow at your place tonight to discuss Hamlet and Beowulf.  I'd like to come.  I have Mrs. G. second period and she gave us the same assignment.  So can I invite myself."   
    'Play it coy, Lissa.  Don't gush,' she told herself.  "Sure," she said overly loud.  So loud in fact that the cafeteria stopped moving for a split second and there was no noise whatsoever while the crowd searched for the source.  "I mean of course you can come over too," Lissa said trying to regain her composure.  The cafeteria returned to its normal buzz.
    "Cool see ya later," Jake said tapping the table as he got up.    The minute he was a few feet away from the table the girls burst into raging fits of laughter.
    "Whoa, Lissa.  I think you got him," Aurora said.
    "Please, he just wants help with his homework," Lissa said dismissively.
    "Is that what you call it?" Ariel asked.  "Our mom calls it washing dishes, but hey if you want to do your homework with him, who are we to judge."
    Lissa found a french fry and launched it across the table.  "What are you going to wear?" Aenira asked.
    "What I have on. Why would I change?" Lissa asked.
    "So you look interested.  God Lissa, you act like you've never had a boyfriend," Aenira said.
    "I've not," Lissa said.  Her words dropped on the table like a thousand pound bomb.  It's not like who was dating whom was a big deal.  The girls had boyfriends, and they dished on which boy could kiss and which was a cheapskate.  It was never obvious that Lissa played a part in the conversations but never added to the tomes of boy knowledge.
    "Oh," Aenira was out of things to say. 
    "No help.  I want a boyfriend.  I want Jake to be interested.  I am interested in him.  What do I do?" Lissa asked.
    "Okay, so you need to put on a little make up and a shirt that clings," Aenira said.
    "You want to show off what the good lord gave you!  You got any tight jeans?" Mel asked.
    "Not really," Lissa said.  This whole thing was starting to sound too much like work.  No wonder she never really pursued anyone.  This getting a guy thing was a lot of work.
    "Don't worry, we're about the same size," Cindy said.  "I got The G spot for English too.  No doubt we have the same assignment.  I'll come over early and help you get ready.  Bring you my best jeans.  Tonight, we reel you in a man."
    Lissa ducked her head a little the sudden attention was more than she was ready for.  Life seemed to be moving at an disproportionate pace all of a sudden. 
    She was excited and embarrassed and still a little doubtful.  Jake probably just wanted some extra help on his paper.  After all, if he wanted something else, wouldn't he have asked to study alone or some other time? 
    Logic and reason were certainly two of Lissa's downfalls.  She struggled to let herself really enjoy the fact that she would get to spend sometime with Jake that night.  Instead of enjoying the moment, she became obsessed with his motives.  There were plenty of girls at Epcot who would willingly hand over anything for a few hours with Jake.
    That got her thinking.  Lissa started to wonder who knew if Jake was a good kisser.  She hadn't heard anything about him during their dish sessions.  He never came up except to mention how fine he was or what he was wearing.  None of the other girls had ever dated him.  He had been out with them on group kind of things, but Jake never seemed to belong to any one girl.  He was too much of a player. 
    When they were at Sit-N-Eat, girls showered him with attention, but he didn't dote on just one of them.  He bounced around, changed his seat, and flirted with every girl there.
    Maybe she should just enjoy the fact that he wanted to spend time with her and stop worrying about his intentions.  At the end of the day, he was sexy and funny and would be at her house before too long. 
    Did she have a clingy shirt?  She didn't think so.  She never bought those baby doll Ts.  She had maybe a button down shirt that was cut to fit closely.  She'd have to make due with that.
    The afternoon flashed by in a blur of classes, chitchat, and day dreams.  Lissa couldn't believe she was imagining Jake kissing her.  She was glad she had waited until her senior year to get fixated on boys, but a little bit of practice might have been nice.
    "Dad," Lissa said in the car, "Ralph, Jake, and Cindy are coming over later to work on our assignment for The G...err Mrs. G."
    "Why do you kids insist on calling her that?" Mr. Morris asked.
    "What?" Lissa asked trying to sound innocent.
    "The G Spot.  It's not even clever.  Her last name is Guestofferson.  So Mrs. G. seems lazy but somewhat understandable.  But why the G. Spot?"
    "Dad, the boys started it because they all think she's hot.  Have you noticed Dad that she's rather attractive?" Lissa asked.
    "Well, umm, yes, but that doesn't excuse the nickname," Mr. Morris said.
    "Nope.  Not an excuse, just an origin.  So it's okay if we study at the house?" Lissa asked.
    "I don't mind.  How do you feel about just ordering some pizza then for dinner?" Mr. Morris asked.
    "Sounds like a good plan," Lissa said.
    When Cindy arrived, Lissa had pretty much talked herself out of doing anything to attract Jake.  Some things are hopeless and should stay that way.
    Cindy could sense the defeat in Lissa.  She didn't like it.  "Girl, you are gorgeous.  You don't give yourself enough credit.  There's a reason Garrett puts up with your constant abuse."  Lissa went to interrupt but Cindy cut her off, "I know he's an asshole, but the boy hounds you because you're gorgeous and smart.  You got the total package, but you hide the presents behind ill fitting clothes."
    Cindy reached into the bag she brought and pulled out a blouse and a pair of jeans.  "Put these on,"she said smacking Lissa on the behind.
    Cindy threw herself down on Lissa's bed sinking into the sea of pillows and stuffed animals.  When Lissa was done to her bra and underwear, Cindy sat up like she'd been jabbed by a needle.  "Whoa, no.  Nut-huh.  Which one is the underwear draw?"
    "What?" Lissa asked covering herself and trying to put the blouse on at the same time.
    "You can't wear white cotton.  You need color, lace, satin, or all of the above," Cindy said.  "You can't be at your best in laundry day undies.  You need some funderwear!"
    "Why?  I'm not a whore.  He's not going to see them no matter how well tonight goes," Lissa said indignant.
    "That's the common misconception.  Funderwear is not for someone else.  It's for you.  You want to exude confidence and sexiness.  You need to know that you have on the hottest little bra and panties you own.  He doesn't need to know it, but he will know it because you'll just be different.  He won't know why or how, but he'll notice.  Wearing sexy underwear is like putting on a Cat Woman costume.  You can't help but be more confident," Cindy said rooting through Lissa's drawers.
    Lissa didn't see how underwear made that much of a difference. She also didn't think she had much of anything that could be considered funderwear.  She was a Haines kind of girl.  Simple and down to earth.
    "These will have to do," Cindy said holding up a matching pink set.  Lissa raised her eyebrows and waited for Cindy to turn around.  "Oh, I get it you're shy," Cindy said finally getting the hint.  She buried herself in the pile of stuffed animals while Lissa changed. 
    "Okay, you can look now.  What do you think?" Lissa asked.
    "I think Jake doesn't stand a chance!" Cindy said
   
   

Day Five...slow day...13002

Across the quad, Lissa's English class was letting out and she was heading to calculus.  Lissa had started to worry a little about her dad.  He seemed oddly despondent after his attack.  She knew that it was probably pretty normal, but she didn't like the idea of her dad not being himself. 
    "Lissa, Lissa, Lissa," Ralph sang as they walked out.
    "Hey Ralph," Lissa said ducking under his arm and nuzzling into his bulky massiveness.
    "How about I come over tonight and we work on that assignment together?  I was just thinking that two heads might be better than one on something like that," Ralph said.
    "Yeah, it won't hurt to get another perspective.  Some of it is pretty obvious.  I mean Beowulf and Hamlet are both pretty full of themselves.  It should be too hard to prove that hubris was the ultimate downfall in each.  Given that Beowulf lived a long life before falling to a dragon, which symbolically could be his hubris, just like the poison that kills Hamlet," Lissa rattled off.   
    "Exactly why I wanted to come get some help.  How about I bring some Chinese for us to gnosh on?" he asked.
    "Sounds like a plan.  I wish you were in calculus with me," Lissa said unwinding herself from Ralph's arm.
    "I don't! I'm quite happy in dummy math," Ralph said turning back the way they had just come from.
    Lissa laughed at him and then looked down the hall toward her math class.  It looked like her dad was talking to Mr. Andrews, but that didn't make any sense.  Her dad almost never left his room throughout the day and certainly didn't wonder out of the science hall.
    She wondered what he could be doing over here.  He was probably checking on her grades again.  He emailed her teachers nearly weekly to find out how she was doing.  He was determined that she would earn an academic scholarship.  If a teacher didn't email back, he still found out somehow.  Perhaps a face to face conversation was how.
    Before she got to the room, her dad had turned and left.  Surely he knew she was coming.  It was a bit odd and out of character.  Lissa scolded herself for questioning her father.  He had been through a lot and didn't need her judging his action.
    She walked in, smiling at Mr. Andrews.  "Good morning," Lissa said as perky as she could muster.
    "Good morning, Miss Morris.  How are you this fine Monday morning?" he asked her.
    "I'm doing well.  Thank you.  How are you today?" she replied.
    "Good thanks."
    Lissa walked to the middle row of tables and found her usual seat near the front.  She heard a swooshing noise and looked up to see Leo walk in, head down in his typical 'I can't see you, you can't see me' kind of way.
    Lissa was starting to notice him more.  His mannerism and movements seemed so calculated.  It wasn't like he was doing his own thing so much as playing a part in a play.  She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but there was something insincere all of a sudden about his antisocial behavior.
    "Okay class, now we're going to mix it up a bit.  When I call a pair of names please find a seat at a table together.  I'm not so particular about which table, but this will be your new partner," Mr. Andrews said.
    Lissa listened as pair after pair was called.  It was starting to become kind of obvious who was going to be the last set.  Lissa couldn't believe that her father who wanted her to stay away from leo had arranged to have him be her partner for calc.  This was weird on so many levels.
    "Miss Morris and Mr. Savage.  Okay class, now that you have your new table mate, I want you to look on page forty two.  You'll see the example problem is on the board.  What I want you to do is work backwards for a few minutes.  Talk to each other about this problem.  Where do you start to solve it?  What comes next?" Mr. Andrews said.
    "I think my dad set this up," Lissa said turning  to Leo.
    "Why?" he asked in a gruff voice.
    "I have no idea.  He told me the other day when you helped me pick up my books that I should stay away from you.  He doesn't trust you," Lissa said.
    "What about you?" Leo asked.
    "Verdict's still out. Umm, well it's a function and they started by finding the derivative," Lissa changed the subject as Mr. Andrews circled by their table.
    "Right, pretty straight forward," Leo said through his hair.
    "Don't be too quick to judge.  Look at step four," Mr. Andrews said as he walked off.
    "Truth be told, I haven't figured you out.  Not sure I want to," Lissa said.
    "Whatever," Leo said.
    Lissa turned and tried to study Leo.  He was hiding something, the hair made that obvious.  But maybe not.  Some people were jerks because of something that happened to them.  But some people were jerks because they were jerks. 
    Leo had a weird arrogance when he spoke.  It was like everything was beneath him, all of it.  Like calculus offered no challenge.  Lissa looked at his notebook.  It was meticulous, and he had already done the homework for the day.    "How do you know that's what he'll assign?" Lissa asked.
    Leo pointed to the board and grunted, looking at Lissa like she had just asked how he knew he was breathing.  The homework was written in the same spot it was written everyday.  "So you always this personable or just on special occasions?" Lissa asked, coping an attitude.
    Leo said nothing and just laid his head down on the table.  'Great,' Lissa thought, 'I shut him down.'  "What the hell is your problem?" Lissa asked, indignant.
    She had never been the girl that the boys chased incessantly, but she was never really rejected either.  She didn't like it.  She didn't like him.  He was a jerk, and she suddenly didn't care why he was jerk.  She wanted moved.  She wanted answers.
    "May I go to the bathroom?" she asked.
    "Take the pass," Mr. Andrews said.
    Lissa slammed outside and cut straight across the courtyard to the science wing.  She was pissed off and about to let loose on her dad like she swore she never would.  How dare he make her work with an animal like Leo.  She couldn't believe that he would go from telling her to stay away from Leo to pushing her together with the savage.
    She pulled the door to the science hall wide open, testing the strength of the door blocks.  She was a pot of boiling oil that was about to have ice dumped in it.  The more she thought about it, the more she couldn't stand it. 
    She didn't even knock.  She just burst right into his classroom, never once even thinking about the fact that he probably had a class on there.
    "Why in the hell did you ask Mr. Andrews to pair me with him?  What the crap, Dad?"  Lissa looked at teh stunned look on her father's face.  He definitely hadn't anticipated this reaction to his meddling. 
    Nevertheless, he was a teacher and daughter or not, he couldn't let her continue in front of his class.  "Hallway, NOW," he said absolutely.
    When the got out in the hall, he slammed his door behind them.  Some of the fire was going out in Lissa's belly.
    "You listen to me young lady, I am your father.  If I tell you to do something you do it.  It doesn't matter why," he said furious.
    "You listen to me," Lissa replied building her courage, "I will not associate with that animal.  He's a jerk and I don't appreciate you setting me up like that."
    "What are you talking about?" Mr. Morris asked.
    "You told Mr. Andrews to make Leo my table partner," Lissa said matter of factly.
    "No.  I didn't.  I did no such thing.  Why would you think that?" he asked, suddenly concerned.
    "I saw you talking to Mr. Andrews.  And then he switched our tables. And I got put with Leo.  You mean you didn't ask him to do that?" Lissa said deflated.
    "Why would I do that?" he asked full of innocence.
    "I don't know.  You're never out of this hall and you were over there.  Why were you over there?" she asked.
    "I needed Frank's help on something.  Numbers," he responded.
    "So it didn't have to do with me?  You didn't pull strings to put us together?" Lissa asked.
    "No.  I don't even know that boy.  I wouldn't do that.  It'd be too strange anyway.  I'd be insulted if another teacher came into my class and told me how to group my students.  I would never do that to one of my colleagues.  You need to get back to class, but I assure you, I had nothing to do with this seating arrangement," Mr. Morris said.
    "Sorry, Daddy.  I just thought..." she trailed off.  She decided to take the long way back around to the math department.  No point hurrying.  Her partner was a jerk and it wasn't her dad's fault.  Worst of all, she had just made a fool out of herself in front of all of those sophomores. 
    The day had gone from bad to worse.  She'd have to walk back into calculus with her tail between her legs.  She didn't think it really mattered.  The halls were so spooky during class.  Empty in every direction.  Occasionally, you could hear an echo from another end of the hallway or from the second floor.  But generally, you were alone. 
    Lissa debated not returning to class.  There wasn't that much time left anyway.  No, she couldn't add to her already terrible day.  She just didn't get how things could switch so quickly from good to bad. 
    She stopped off in the bathroom to take a look at herself in the mirror.  She wanted to make sure she hadn't ruined what little make up she wore.  She may not have been a primper, but she still liked to be cute.  She took the scrunchie out of her hair and shook her head.
    She fluffed her hair and examined her eyes.  No she hadn't been crying.  The heat on her cheeks was from embarrassment and anger, not tears.  She twisted her hair into a loose bun and tied it up with her scrunchie.  She splashed a little water on her face and dabbed it dry with a paper towel. 
    Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out some lip gloss and applied it to her lips.  She stared herself in the eyes and said, "You can do this.  To hell with him.  If he doesn't want to be cordial then forget him."
    She turned and walked out of the bathroom with a bit more purpose in her step.  Maybe Ralph would bring Jake to their study session.  That would be good.  Prom might have been a long way off, but she wanted to secure her date before Christmas.
    If Leo wanted to be a jerk then she could be a jerk too.  She slipped back into the room as quietly as she could.  Mr. Andrews was at the white board working through more sample problems. 
    Lissa slid into her seat next to Leo, who seemed to be right where he was when she had left, head down and asleep.

Day Four....11076

Chris came  from the front of the store and hung his red smock up in a little locker, grabbed a coat and some car keys.  "You about ready Mr. M.?"
    "I believe so," Mr. Morris said.  "Thank you for doing this."
    "No problem, Mr. M.  You know without you, i probably would have graduated.  Giving you a ride is the least I can do," Chris said leading Mr. Morris out the back door of the store.
    "You don't give yourself enough credit, Chris.  And you've graduated now, no need for extra formalities.  You can call me Mark," Mr.Morris said.
    "No sir, I don't think I can.  I have too much respect for you to act like we're on the same level," Chris said opening the passenger side door of his 1980 Mustang.
    Mr. Morris lowered himself into the seat and let his mind wonder as Chris carefully navigated the turns of town.  "Mr. Morris, i don't really know where you live.  I just know you live in town somewhere."
    "Take main, above the tracks and turn left on Alexander.  I'll be the third house on the right," Mr. Morris said, resuming his pensive reflection of his life.  He was glad that his teaching had impacted students in such a powerful way.  It gave him hope and encouraged him to do more.  He hoped and prayed that Lissa's night had gone better than his. 
    The thought of Lissa made him suddenly aware of the phone in his pocket.  He pulled out his phone and turned it on.  One new text: where are you? ~Lissa <3
    He quickly typed out that he was on his way home.  When the car stopped in front of his house, Mr. Morris turned to Chris and said, "Can I at least give you some gas money?"
    "No your money is no good here.  This is the least I can do," Chris said, looking past Mr. Morris to the house.  "Is that little Lissa?"
    Mr. Morris looked back over his shoulder and saw his daughter waiting for him on the porch.  She had changed from her provocative Halloween costume back into her normal uniform of sweats and an over sized t-shirt.  "Yeah, it's amazing how fast they grow up.  Thanks for everything Chris. And good luck with everything."
    "Take care, Mr. Morris," Chris said.  Once Mr. Morris shut the door, the Mustang sped off and disappeared into the night.  The house was framed in with the sidewalk that ran down the street.  Mr. Morris headed up the sidewalk that split the front yard in half.  Standing on the porch with her arms crossed was his little girl.
    He suddenly had the urge to run to her, but he feared he wasn't ready for running just yet.
    "Young man, you have some explaining to do," Lissa said mocking her father's tone that he reserved for her when she didn't follow the rules.
    Mr. Morris smiled and mounted the stairs, still a little unsteady.  He grabbed her when he could reach her and pulled her into a huge hug.  He broke into uncontrollable sobs, crying into his daughter's shoulder. 
    The scene looked very similar to scenes that take place on air strips when soldiers return from war.  Thankful to be alive and near their families again, grown men are reduced to tears.
    It's like all of the stress and pain that's been pushed aside so they could get their job done is suddenly allowed to be released, and the flood gates are open.
    "Daddy, what's going on?  Why are you covered in blood?" Lissa asked.
    Mr. Morris relayed the events of his evening.  How he had changed his mind and decided t go out for drinks.  How he had been attacked.  How an anonymous student had saving him from being robbed. 
    He glossed over some of the intense details and played up the fact that he was okay.
    "But Daddy, there's so much blood," Lissa began to cry as well.
    "Head wounds will do that.  Trust me, I'm okay.  Tell me about your night," Mr. Morris said.
    "Well we went and got desserts.  We talked about prom.  I think Jake was about to ask me to it, but he was cut short and the conversation went a different direction for a while.  Nothing much else to tell.  I've been home for a while.  I was really hoping to get a text back saying you were out with a woman and not to wait up," Lissa laughed pulling back from her father's embrace and heading into the house.
    "Ahh, do you really want a new mommy?" he asked mockingly.
    "Hahahaha very funny.  You know I just want my Daddy to be happy!" Lissa said.
    "I'm very happy that tomorrow is Saturday and I have two days to recover at home before I have to teach.  My head is throbbing, I'm going to take some vitamin M. and head to bed," Mr. Morris said kissing Lissa on the forehead.
    "Night daddy, i love you."
    "Love you too kiddo."

    By the time Monday had arrived, Lissa had all of the gory details of the attack.  She had been cleaning and dressing her father's wound all weekend.  It looked healed enough that he went to school without a bandage on Monday.
    It was the middle of third block when Mr. Morris looked at his door and saw the uniform through the tall slender window.
    It was the Sheriff.  While Mr. Morris really wanted to know who had saved him, He was not in a hurry to find out he had been wrong about Leo Savage.
    There are some things in life that you'd just rather not be proven wrong about.  Sometimes, you just can't handle being wrong about a person or an ideal.  It's like suddenly realizing that you don't agree with an interpretation of a holy text that you spent a life time believing.  It rocks you to your core.
    Mr. Morris already had enough rocking for one year.  His head still ached.  "Well Sheriff, did you find anything out?"
    "Yes and no, Mr. Morris.  I did find out who your good Samaritan was, but we've had no luck on your attackers," The Sheriff said.
    "Well, probably random.  So was it Leo?" Mr. Morris asked.
    "Mr. Morris, the kid who came to your rescue would rather stay anonymous.  I have to give the kid credit, he didn't want any credit.  Have a good day," the Sheriff said touching the rim of his hat.
    Mr. Morris watched him walk down the hallway.  He leaned his back against the wall and rubbed his eyes.  He knew.  He knew that Leo had saved him from being robbed and most likely his life.
    He didn't want to think about it.  But he had no choice.  It wasn't something he could just ignore.  But how do you repay someone who you don't really know, or like, for something like saving your life.
    He'd have to do some research.  If he could find a way to learn more about Leo then he could properly repay him. 
    "Ummm, Mr. Morris?"
    Mr. Morris had totally forgotten about his class.  "Sorry, what?"
    "Ummm, Dan set something on fire."
    Sometimes having his own lab in the back of his classroom was very convenient other times it was just a fire hazard.  "Again?"
    "Ummm, yeah.  Oh and the whole lab smells like butt."
    Mr. Morris rushed back through the door of his classroom to assess the damage.  The butt smell he knew was just sulfur, the fire not too out of the ordinary during a lab.  Dan always seemed to be "accidentally" setting things on fire. 
    Some days you knew you were making a difference, other days you weren't sure you were cut out for any of it.  Mr. Morris thought back to his first year teaching and how an incident like a fire would have had him all panicked and flustered. 
    Mr. Morris thought about firing the fire extinguisher at Dan, but then he thought maybe that would be pressing his luck.  He grabbed a pair of tongs and moved the flaming paper towel roll into the sink and turned on the water.
    The class soon normalized and continued working through their lab as Mr. Morris circulated around the room.  He'd done the lab for years and didn't really need to pay attention to answer questions. 
    Mostly he just wondered around the room stopping periodically to look down a lab row and think.  Maybe he could just get Lissa to hang out with Leo.  He could pull his record or check with the guidance department, but since Leo wasn't his current student it would look weird.
    He'd send Lissa.  As long as Leo would want to hang out, Mr. Morris would encourage it.  Lissa seemed to be interested in Leo.  She was asking questions, so perhaps Mr. Morris could fabricate a situation that would make it naturally happen.
    Mr. Morris was struggling with the idea that he was somehow trying to come up with ideas of how to hook his daughter up with a kid that he still didn't fully trust.  He began to question his own motives.  Why would he want to know more?  Was he really just trying to determine the best thank you present?  Or was he really trying to prove his earlier inclinations about the boy correct?
    It was difficult to say, but he knew that he couldn't lay it to rest until he did something about it.  The question was how you got kids together who wouldn't normally be together.
    "Dan," Mr. Morris said.
    "I didn't do anything," Dan said jumping back from his apparatus.
    "Did I say you did?" he asked.  Dan shook his head back and forth.  Mr. Morris swore he could hear the marbles roll.  "Say you wanted to hang out with a girl, but didn't want to ask her for some reason.  How would you get a chance to hang out with her?"
    "Oh whoa, Mr. M.  You crushing on a hottie?" Dan said excited.
    "I'm researching," Mr. Morris said. 
    "Well, you could do anything from like, just show up where she hangs out or like have a gathering, you know, at your house when your parents are out of town," Dan said winking at Mr. Morris and nudging him in the ribs.
    "I really worry about you, Dan.  But thanks," Mr. Morris shook his head and walked to the back of the class, "Well class, that's about all the time we have.  I need you to reset your lab station.  Check the diagram on the counter and put everything back the way it was when you walked in."