For those who've read my other stories: OK, so what I wanted was a completely fun version without so much depression. Yeah, there will be some problems that will give it more depth and edge, but not as bleak as the others. I think that’s why I wear down with some of the others- because while I like the depth that the depression adds, it can be very emotionally and mentally exhausting. So here is one that is mostly fun… no death at all. Yay! Well… except for Mr. Fields’ little brother, who died years ago. Cause yeah, I didn’t want the love triangle thing- exactly- in this one, either. And just cause I didn’t feel like dealing with little sister stuff- Kristin never existed in this version. LOL!

Sorry this is short, but my first chapters usually are.

CHAPTER ONE

“Excuse me, Ma’am, are you here to pick someone up?”

The cool night air rushed over her, adding to the goose bumps that popped up after she’d heard that familiar voice. Gazing at the school parking lot from the terrace which leads into the cafeteria, she could hear his dress shoes clicking softly against the black top, and couldn’t help smirking.

Loud music rushed to greet them when someone opened the door to the gymnasium where the dance was being held.

“Ma’am?”

She turned to face her English teacher, and he took a step back, his chocolate eyes narrowing. “Miss Rose?”

“Hi, Mr. Fields.” She grinned.

He gave his black tie a tug around the shirt collar. “You looked like… someone else.”

She cursed her cheeks for glowing after that complement, but it was always fun to watch a guy’s reaction to her looks- even the teachers, as long as they didn’t try to get too close. She only hoped he couldn’t see her clearly beneath the outside lamps that arched above them. Shrugging, her light brown curls felt silky against her bare shoulders. “New hairstyle, more dressed up than usual,” she explained, watching as he studied the curve-hugging, burgundy, strapless gown she’d found at the JC Penny clearance rack two weeks ago.

She hadn’t planned on dressing up, since she didn’t have a date- not that she hadn’t been asked. Two boys had asked to escort her to the Homecoming Dance, but she’d refused for two reasons: 1) They were too young. Yes, they were both seventeen, but still too young for her; and 2) they were too goody-goody, damn it! Not only were they Honor Roll students, but they must have been participants in every damned extracurricular activity known to mankind! Too good. Too predictable. They didn’t even have the courage to act shy about asking her out.

Mr. Fields approached her slowly, cautiously. “Where’s your date, Rebekah?”

“I don’t have one.”

“Really?” His hands in his pockets, he rocked back on his heels. “A cute little girl like you doesn’t have a date?”

Little girl, huh? Something told her he didn’t believe that comment; but it didn’t matter… she’d no intention of joining the ranks of the other school girls who surrounded his desk daily, giggling and volunteering to help him grade papers. Anything just to have him turn those chocolate eyes right on them, right? He was only about 25 years old, and most of the girls in her class were seventeen, so it wasn’t like they were crushing over an old guy. Still… he was a teacher. Duh… and… yuck.

It was one thing to enjoy catching their brief admiration of her looks… but she’d never stake her heart on one… Like… never mind that.

“Nope,” she said. “No date… and I was just thinking about walking home.”

“Alone?” He frowned. “In the dark? No, Rebekah, I think we better call your parents.”

His brown, wavy hair scattered when the wind rushed down on them, lifting her curls and spreading them out behind her, sending a shiver down her body as she pulled the matching, burgundy shawl about her shoulders. “I don’t need to call my parents,” she argued. “They’re both busy, probably making out on the couch, ignoring Smallville as we speak.”

He paused with a bunch of coins spread over his hand, his mouth coming slightly agape. As she smiled, he motioned inside. “Forget it, Girl, you’re not walking home. So either call your parents, or you’ll get a detention.”

“Detention?” Her mouth fell open. “What? You can’t do that, can you?”

“Watch me,” He raised a brow. “No female student of mine is going to walk home in the dark in this neighborhood.”

“Only the girls?”

Nodding, “Girls are more of a target, if you catch my drift.”

“That’s kind of a sexist remark, isn’t it?” She bit back a smile, because she was only doing to him what she loved doing to her father- arguing playfully and watching him sweat while he fished for answers. But Mr. Fields didn’t appear to be sweating. He cocked his head, his eyes roaming along her face, and then a smile burst upon his face. “Something tells me you’re feistier than you let on in class, Rebekah Rose.”

Ding, ding, ding. What does he win for that, Johnny? She wasn’t even sure what made her want to tease him tonight- him, of all people… one of the guys in school she only spoke to when she absolutely had to, and that was mainly because… well… he seemed too straight-laced- not exactly boring, because his lectures were easy to follow… She mentally sighed, knowing that she couldn’t tell much about him, just from his daily lectures about the Bible-Thumping Puritans and The Scarlet Letter. For all she knew, he could have been the hero who should have rescued Hester Prynne, standing up to those damned, nosey-ass, hypocritical judges who’d forced her to wear the “A” for Adultery for the rest of her life.

He turned his fist upside down. “Take the quarters and call your parents. Now.”

“All right, all right,” she muttered, opening her palm and allowing him to empty the change into her hand. The rush she felt was quickly erased when she started toward the cafeteria with him at her side.

“We’ve got that writing contest coming up,” he said, and she guessed it was to make polite conversation.

“Yeah, I heard about that.” Whichever story won the contest would be converted into the school Christmas play, so the story needed to be holiday-themed- all nice and sappy and boring. If she entered the contest, she’d probably write something about Santa Claus saving the world from a zombie plague. Laughter caught in her throat.

“Write your rough draft over the weekend, please,” he smiled, holding the door open, just like the typical gentleman. She should have known… he was an older version of Kevin Murphy.

“What are you talking about?” She frowned. “I didn’t plan on entering the contest.”

Smirking, his eyes gleamed as they delved into hers, and he ejected, “You are now. My entire English class is, but I didn’t plan to announce it until Monday. Your smart remarks earned you an early assignment.”

“Wha…?” She gaped at him. He couldn’t possibly be this much of an ass.

Releasing a guffaw as he tossed his head back, he said, “Come on, Girl, it’s not that bad.”

“And I wasn’t that smart, either. I was just… teasing.”

He shrugged his broad shoulders. “And if you’d ever teased me before, you’d know that I always tease back,” he winked and nodded inside. “Now call your parents. You have an assignment to get busy on.”

“Are you serious? You want mine finished by Monday?”

“Yes, and you’ll get extra credit if you do it. Honestly, Rebekah…” his eyes darkened… “Since you’ve only got a seventy-nine percent in my class, you could definitely use the extra credit, don’t you think?”

“Crap. What did I get on my test yesterday?”

“Eighty-Two… and I know you can do better.”

“Oh, please. Don’t start with your teacher-ly, goody-goody speeches about how we can do anything we want if we just-”

“You seem to have a chip on your shoulder, Girl. What from?”

Heat filled her face, her stomach bubbling, and she gnawed her inner cheek. What from? Did he really want to know what from? Taking a deep breath, she waited a few seconds before saying slowly between clenched teeth, “None of your business.”

Silence descended on them, save for the humming of the night air, which cooled her cheeks and her temper enough to say, “Sorry… Just don’t push that button, OK?”

His strong hand resting on the edge of the open door, he frowned. “Now you’ve piqued my curiosity.”

“Too bad. I have to go call my parents, so excuse me, please.”

ooo

Do me a favor and let me know- does Bekah seem like a 'psycho' at the end? LOL, she's not supposed to her reaction will be explained later, but I just want to make sure she's not written in a way that would scare you off of reading.