The clock had stopped at 11:32, and no matter how hard the second hand tried, it just couldn't force itself to move forward. From her cocoon of blankets and sheets, Rosaline Finster stared at the clock on her bed side table through a small hole in her covers. While the rest of her body was toasty, her eyes were cold and dreary. The bitter climax to the previous night still played in her mind.

Her fist shot out of her covers and pounded into the face of her alarm clock. The thing noisily fell to the floor with a loud ding from the bells. Rosaline violently kicked the blankets off of her and jumped out of her bed before the sheets had settled back down. She stood erect, her feet together and her arms out as if she was making the shape of a lower case t. Then in one quick motion, Rosaline ripped off the tank top and panties she had been sleeping in.

In the shower, she ferociously scrubbed the shampoo and conditioner into her brown hair that stretched to her shoulder blades. After rinsing off the coat of soap that she had applied to every inch of her pale body, Rosaline stepped out of the shower to face herself in the foggy mirror that tends to come with a steamy bathroom. Wiping away the moisture with her hand, she smiled at her reflection. She cupped her breasts with her hands and squeezed them slightly. She turned sideways and gazed at them with displeasure. Then she used her left arm to cover her breasts and placed her right hand between her thighs. Her eyes were half closed and her mouth was open like an o. Then with a cocky smile, she stuck out her chest and placed her hands on her hips. She wiggled her eyebrows and grabbed a towel.

Wrapped in the white towel, she quickly tiptoed back to her bedroom. Rosaline hastily squeezed into a tight pair of jeans shorts and a white t-shirt that left her midriff bare. She tied her hair into a pony tail as she replaced the alarm clock on her end table before grabbing a stuffed duffle bag. The clock read 12:05 when she left her bedroom.

Rosaline took the stairs two at a time as she bound toward the kitchen, where her younger brother sat at the table with a bowl of cheerios in front of him. Rosaline ran in with the stuffed duffle, knocking several cans and boxes off the counter as she searched through the cupboards and refrigerator.

"I don't see why you get to go to the beach all summer, while I'm stuck at home," he said, shoveling the cereal into his mouth.

"I asked you if you wanted to come with me, Chuck," Rosaline said, her hand searching blindly through the contents on the top shelf.

"I don't," Chuck answered, "I know how you high schoolers screw around when you're all alone, and I want no part of that."

"Some day you will," Rosaline teased, "And besides, I already promised Mom and Dad that I'd do no screwing this summer, and my word's as good as gold."

"Did you know a piece of gold this big can be flattened to cover an entire tennis court?" Chuck asked.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Rosaline asked, stuffing an apple in her mouth.

"I was making a comparison."

"I don't have time for your metaphors."

"It wasn't really a metaphor."

"Well, you're holding me up. I've got the summer of a lifetime awaiting me. Have fun with Mom and Pops," Rosaline said, sticking her tongue out as she left the kitchen.

Rosaline practically kicked the front door open before she ran into the front yard, where her mother was on hands and knees pulling weeds.

"Bye Mom, see you in a few weeks," Rosaline said as she ran by.

"Rosaline wait," her mother called as she stood up, "What happened last night, why did you come home crying?"

"Oh don't worry about that, Mom," Rosaline said, smiling.

"Did something happen with Blake?" Mom tried.

"Of course not; nothing happened," Rosaline reassured her mother, "Mom, I've got to go. The guys are waiting."

"Okay, it's just that I worry about you sometimes."

"I'm fine; I've got the whole summer ahead of me. There are endless opportunities on the horizons."

"I'd hope you'd limit your opportunities a little," a balding man in polo shirt with a newspaper in hand said from behind her, "I have to say, I'm not too comfortable with you spending the whole summer in a cabin with four teenage boys."

"Dad, I'll be as responsible as I always am. No need to worry yourself," Rosaline said.

"Rosaline, I…" he started but was cut off by his daughter insisting on leaving. She planted a kiss on his cheek, waved to her mother, and darted off down the street with her oversized duffle bag on her back. "That girl," her father said as he shook his head.

Two teenage boys stood side-by-side in front of the magazine rack at a grocery store, each indulging in their own choice of literature. The shorter of the two, David Hassle, had sandy blonde hair and pale skin. His eyes darted from right to left as he read a comic book starring the same Japanese character that was printed on his white t-shirt, but was slightly covered by the short sleeved blue button-up shirt he wore over it. The slightly taller boy, Albert Hans, had two golden hoop earrings, slicked back black hair, sunglasses positioned low on his nose, and a white tank top with a black x across his chest. He stared attentively at the magazine he held, showing a picture of two scantily clad women embracing and blushing as they brought their lips tantalizing close.

Carrie Connors yawned as she stood behind the two boys. She pulled her cellphone out of her purse, but due to the lack of messages, all she had to check was the time. Her friend was running late, as usual. Carrie had grown bored just standing there. Her eyes wandered to the boys, and unconsciously, she looked over Al's shoulder and caught a glimpse at the lewd pictures. She blushed, but couldn't take her eyes off of the well endowed females.

Catching sight of Carrie's wandering eyes, Al asked, "You want to look, Carrie?" and held the magazine out for her to see.

Carrie immediately turned her head and stepped back, "N-n-no, no thank you; I don't really like porn," she said her voice grew quieter as she spoke. She adjusted her glasses and redid one of her pigtails to hide her beat red face.

"It's not porn; no one's actually getting it on. It's more like a strip tease," Al explained, wagging his finger like he was giving a lecture.

"Is that supposed to make it better?" David asked, turning his attention away from his manga.

"Sure, porn is bad, but this is fun for the whole family," Al said.

"I'd hate to see what kind of fun your family has," David said bitterly.

"Now, see here," Al said turning the page and holding the magazine out in front of him, "this is good stuff." David and Carrie looked at the page from over Al's shoulders. David grimaced, Carrie blushed even more, and Al's smile grew three sizes.

"This kind of stuff makes me sick," David groaned.

"Are you kidding, it's beautiful," Al said loudly.

Embarrassed, Carrie quickly shuffled to the opposite side of the store away from the two boys who went on to debate about the morality of the magazine's contents, as well as the picture quality.

In the small, yet crowded, parking lot at the side of the convenience store was a parked blue SUV packed with the luggage of five teenagers. Franklin Urban, a classic muscular football player with shoulder length blonde hair and wearing a red t-shirt with a yellow stripe across the chest, pawed through the ice chest that was squeezed into the trunk of his car.

"I'm telling you, Bro. I just couldn't stop thinking about Rosaline last night," Frankie said as he searched, "She's such a great girl. We've been friends for years, but ya know what, I think I'm in love."

Reclining in the back seat of the car was Ronald Kelley, commonly referred to by all as R-Kelley. The svelte teenage boy had messy black hair tucked back by the backwards baseball cap that he always wore. He wore shorts, flip-flops, and a black tank top. At that moment his hat was covering his eyes as he lay silently as Frankie spoke.

"I'm serious, I'm crazy about her. She's so full of life, and she's funny and smart," Frankie continued, "Aw, Mom packed hotdogs. I wonder if they sell real meat in there. Bro, I've decided. I'm not going to let this summer go by. I'm going to tell Rosaline how I feel. You going to back me up?" He stared at his companion. "Thanks pal, I can always count on you." He patted a golden retriever on the head. "Hey Bro Dog, make sure no one steals anything from R-Kelley while he's sleeping." Frankie instructed before heading to the store.

Bro Dog wandered around the car and jumped in through the open door. The retriever placed his paws on the seat and began licking the crotch of R-Kelley's pants. The boy jolted from his nap.

"Oh Bro Dog, sorry but I don't like you like that," he said before lying back down. However, when the dog continued licking, R-Kelley sat up again; "And by that I mean, knock it off," he ordered, pushing the dog away. He then rubbed his pants and held it to his nose. "Oh man, I wonder what I spilled," he queried out loud before lying down to continue his nap.