Yes, this is the revision... I am still working on A Walk in the Rain, so don't worry.

If you haven't read the original version of this, I"m sure you'll enjoy this more; but for those who HAVE read the original- please give this one a try. This one is more compact and there's more romantic suspense because... wellll... I won't give away all of the changes. :) Don't let this opening scene fool you, either... if you've read the original.

OOOOOOOOOOO PROLOGUE OOOOOOOOOOO

Young teacher, the subject of schoolgirl fantasy... She wants him so badly, knows what she wants to be... Temptation, frustration, so bad it makes him cry (Don't Stand so Close to Me, The Police)

Would you dance
if I asked you to dance?
Would you run
and never look back?
Would you cry
if you saw me cry?
And would you save my soul, tonight?

-Hero, Enrique Iglesias

Rebekah Rose stuffed a potato chip into her mouth as her friend Alice sent the chubby, little Mario guy bopping across the TV screen, swinging his little arms and legs as fast as a hummingbird's wings. Bekah began to giggle and Alice snickered. “Stop laughing! You’re going to make me screw up!”

“I can’t help it!” Bekah laughed. “He reminds me of the Pillsbury doughboy with blue overalls and a mustache!”

Alice twisted her eyebrows and Mario fell off of a cliff. “Ugh! It’s your fault, Bekah!” She tossed the control onto the floor and leaned against the couch behind them.

Bekah cupped her hand over her mouth in a futile attempt to hide her pleasure.

Alice narrowed her brown eyes. “You’re such a brat, Bekah.”

“Thank you, and I’m quite proud of myself for that.” She lifted her own control and felt a tap on her shoulder. “Yes, Kristin?” She asked, looking up at her younger sister, who stood holding a baby doll that resembled its “Mommy”, with its blonde hair and big, blue eyes.

Kristin’s eyes pleaded along with her soft, eight-year-old voice, “Can I play, too? Pleeease?”

“No, Shrimp Toast!” Bekah had said, using one of the many nicknames she used for her little sister. “Go play with your dolls.”

Surprisingly, her little sister slinked away with her head down, instead of begging to play, like she normally would. Bekah took a sip from her cold can of Coke and stretched her legs out in front of her.

“Can you believe that Troy Lutz stole my bike yesterday just to get my attention?” Alice loved her bike, though she didn’t ride it as much as she used since she’d obtained her driver’s license a month ago. Riding a bike in this neighborhood wasn’t the best idea, anyway, since they lived in the kind of neighborhood where they could hear gunshots fired at night, and people partying in their driveways, blasting rap or rock music while getting high on pot or booze. Alice and her brother did both, and Bekah joined them occasionally for the vodka, but not the pot.

“So what did you do?” Bekah closed her mouth tightly to keep from laughing as Mario did the splits while leaping over a giant turtle- or whatever that thing was with the goose head and tortoise shell.

“I gave him a kiss to get it back.” Alice batted her eyelashes and Bekah balked

“You did not!”

“He’s cute enough.” She shrugged.

“You’re crazy. And I’m so friggin happy that I’m not as pretty as you are, Alice!”

Alice giggled. “Bekah, you’re gorgeous, and you know it.”

“NOT!”

“Rebekah Rayne Rose.” Alice feigned disdain.

“Alice Marie McCallister.” Bekah smirked, secretly happy to have been told many times that she and Alice looked like sisters. Both had long, light brown hair, dark eyes, and stood around five foot six. The biggest differences were that Bekah’s layered hair hung to just below the shoulders, while Alice’s was wavier and stopped at her waistline; and Bekah’s figure was more filled out- larger breasts and fuller hips that earned her plenty of whistles as she walked down the street or the school hallways.

Bekah was not the desire of every guy at school, unlike her friend Renee Andrews, a tall blonde with long legs and a strong, lean physique. Strong and lean because she was involved in sports year round: girl’s tennis, girl’s basketball, and girl’s softball. The boys’ attraction to Renee was enhanced by her sickeningly sweet personality. If her little sister had begged to join in the games, the Nintendo control would have immediately been turned over.

How did Renee manage to be such a goody-goody all the time? Why did Bekah like her, despite her contempt for goody-goodies, who are known for their nice clothes, happy-go-lucky personalities, and strong morals which they adhere to at all costs?

Morals, of course, are good things to hold on to; but some people are so damned caught up in their own ideals that they frown upon anyone who doesn’t live up to them. Bekah liked people who are “real”, meaning they’re not caught up in their own fantasy world where they rarely make mistakes, and if errors are made, they’re neatly dealt with and swept under the carpet. Like in that old television program, The Brady Bunch. How many times did that program end with, “Oh, Marsha, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me!”

“Oh, it’s OK, Jan. I love you so much!!” Hug and make up.

I’d rather poke my eyes out than sit through another episode of that mush!

The computerized music from the video game began to speed up, signaling she was running out of time to complete the current board.

“Where’d your sister go?” Alice asked, and Bekah paused the game. She’d been mindlessly stomping on mushrooms with beady, little eyes, and repeatedly ramming Mario’s head against coin boxes.

They both listened to the silence. Bekah’s parents had gone shopping, leaving their sixteen-year-old daughter in charge, which meant that if Kristin had gotten into trouble, they’d both be grounded!

“Kristin!” She called while shoving off of the floor and heading toward the hallway, passing one of the kitchen entrances on her left. The back of the house was dark, since it was after nine o’clock on an August evening, and the lights were all turned off. She checked Kristin’s room, which was a complete disaster, with toys and baby doll clothes scattered on the bed and the floor. Their mother would be on the little brat tonight to clean up the mess, and Bekah wouldn’t be able to sleep, listening to Kaye Rose’s shouted orders and Kristin whining while throwing toys back into the box.

Their mother, though mostly patient and loving, cleaned houses for a living, and so she could not abide a mess.

Bekah was about to leave the room, when she noticed the light pink curtain riding a breeze. “Oh crap, not again!” More then once, Kristin had snuck out the window, and so their father had managed to install an alarm on the house to alert everyone of the little girl’s escapes. How could they all have forgotten to turn it on?? She lunged toward the window, her knees pressing into the bed, pushing the loose screen out and staring at the side of her neighbor’s house.

“Kristin!” She called, throwing her leg over the ledge.

Her shoulders shook, and then she rolled into the grass when she heard the explosion. The echo rolled like thunder through the neighborhood.

OOOO

WARNING: Characters may not fit your code of conduct or even what you deem to be a "good Christian". LOL :)

Just a note- I realize that some of you reading this may have been or ARE cheerleaders... don't be too upset with Bekah's references to "airheaded or gushy cheerleaders"... she's just not a fluffy kind of person, and cheerleaders strike her as fluffy and gushy, but she knows that not all cheerleaders are airheaded... she'll stop referring to them in this way eventually. So hoepfully this didn't offend anyone.

Thanks.