Date: Tue, 26 Mar 2013 22:43:10 -0700
From: Moz Lover <mozlover21@gmail.com>
Subject: "Raw," Chapter 8, End of Part 1 (High School Section)

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the
product of the author's imagination and any resemblance to actual persons,
business establishments or events is entirely coincidental. Comments and
feedback are highly appreciated, send to mozlover21@gmail.com

A Note to the Readers: This is the end of Part 1. Part 2 will be up soon,
and is an interesting departure from this story format, so please stick
around to check it out and let me know what you think.

Raw

Chapter 8.

	When we get out of the theatre it's already dark, but the weather
is surprisingly warm, like it's summer time. The air is filled with a
flowery smell. I realize that everything feels perfect because I'm really
happy. My face is actually starting to hurt from smiling. Mark looks
radiant as well. For once in my life my mind is just still, and at
peace. I'm not thinking about anything, and it feels good. Just letting
this warmth spread through my body like a drug. But I imagine no drug comes
close to this natural high. If you could collect it and bottle it up you'd
be a millionaire.
	All of a sudden I feel a pair of strong arms wrap around me from
behind. I smile even wider; Mark. I feel little butterfly kisses all along
my neck. In between the kisses he says, "You are amazing." We slowly make
our way back to the house where we both immediately pass out on the bed.

	I'm dreaming. I know I'm dreaming, but it doesn't make everything
that's happening to me any less terrifying. I'm in my own personal
hell. Fear, fear, and disgust, and shame, and embarrassment all running
through my body like electric currents. All making me limp and lifeless,
yet tense. My body feels like a raw slab of meat. I wake up crying and
panting, and right away I know that it happened. The worst thing I can
think of. I pull the covers off of me. My pants are wet. I shudder with
humiliation, as another sob makes it's way out of my throat. I feel Mark's
arms wrap themselves around me.
	"Hey, it's okay, everything's okay," he says. But it's
not. Everything is fucked up. I keep crying. The humiliation eating me
alive.
	"Jeremy," Mark says soothingly, "hey, everything is fine. I'm
here." But for some reason it doesn't work this time. The shame is too
great. I continue crying hysterically. I can tell Mark doesn't know how to
deal with this, but he does his best. He rubs my back soothingly and holds
me.
	"I'm sorry," I finally mumble.
	"You have nothing to be sorry for," he replies gently and kisses my
forehead. "I'll get you a pair of my sweats okay?" I nod.
	"I'm sorry about the bed," I say looking down. Because I'm wearing
jeans the damage isn't big, just a small wet patch on the sheet. I doubt it
went through to the mattress. Still, the embarrassment is piercing.
	"Jeremy, trust me, I don't care about the bed. All I care about is
that you're okay," he says holding my face gently. I try to believe him,
but can't. How can anyone be attracted to someone like me? Mark hands me a
pair of his sweats and I go to the bathroom. I turn on the shower and
quickly wash myself. Then I wash my wet boxers. My hands are still
trembling like leafs. I go back into the room. Thankfully the light is off.
	"Is the mattress ruined?" I ask.
	"No, it's fine. It doesn't matter Jeremy, it's just pee, I honestly
don't care." I never thought I would hear someone say that, I think to
myself. I always envisioned the repulsed reaction anyone who this happened
in front of would have. And Mark just seems unfazed. It's amazing. He pats
the spot beside him. I lay down slowly, still embarrassed, my back turned
to him. He puts his arms around me, and it feels like home.
	"Who was it?" he asks. I bite my lip, surprised at the
question. It's one thing to know that he's aware of what's going on, but
it's another to have him ask me right out about it. I can't tell him. I
can't describe all the shit that happened to me as a little boy. "I want to
kill whoever it was," he adds after a while of silence. And this is exactly
why I can't tell you Mark, I think to myself. He pulls me in closer, and I
lean into him. Then slowly I turn around to face him, realizing that we
need to talk about something.
	"I just want you to know that we're not going to have sex," I say
as all the blood drains from my face. He looks at me as if not
understanding.
	"Okay," he finally replies.
	"Okay?" I ask surprised.
	"Well, what do you mean?"
	"I mean what I just said. That we won't have sex."
	"Ever?" he asks sounding a little alarmed.
	"I don't know, but definitely not for a long long time," I
reply. He considers my answer.
	"Okay, I can deal with that," he replies. I'm shocked.
	"You can?" I ask in utter surprise. He looks at me thoughtfully.
	"Yeah, that's fine. It's not that important to me."
	"It's not?" I ask again shocked. Now he's regarding me curiously.
	"Why are you so shocked? You think I can't control myself? Is this
about what happened when I was younger? Because all of that is in the past,
I swear. I can be celibate as long as you need me to," he says
seriously. And this isn't the answer I expected at all. I just stare at
him. Who are you Mark Norton?
	"Jeremy?"
	"A few weeks ago you seemed really upset when I couldn't stay the
night at your place. That wasn't because you wanted to..you know, do it?"
Mark looks shocked and appalled.
	"No! Of course not Jeremy. I just wanted to be close to you. I like
sleeping with you in my arms and being there in case you have a
nightmare. I don't like the thought of you sleeping alone, that's all. I
know you're not ready to have sex." I melt a little inside. How could I
have been so accusatory of him. I realize that since we're already having a
serious talk I should probably bring up something else that's been
bothering me.
	"Are you with me because I remind you of Luke?" I ask.
	"No," Mark replies confused at my question.
	"Are you sure," I ask, sensing a moment of hesitation in his voice.
	"Jeremy, yes when I met you the thought that you looked a little
bit like Luke ran through my mind. And it did seem like more than a
coincidence. Like a strange sign. But then I got to know you, and you're
nothing like Luke. I like you for you." He caresses my face gently, moves
my hair away from my eyes and kisses my forehead.
	"When you mentioned sex, did you say that because you're scared
about our first time?" He asks gently. I blush at the word sex like a
little kid. Slowly I nod. I am completely terrified of our first time, yes.
	"Don't be. There's nothing to be scared of. I promise. I might suck
at most things but this is an area I know a thing or two about. So you have
nothing to worry about. It's not going to hurt, I swear," he says
seriously. I realize that I'm scared of it because for someone my age I am
absolutely clueless about sex. I mean what happened to me as a child is
like a bad nightmare that I try to forget on daily basis. So I have no idea
what normal relationship intimacy between two guys is supposed to be
like. I decide that I probably need to do some research, so I don't look
like a complete idiot when I do decide to do it.
	"What if you won't like it?" I ask nervously biting my lip.
	"Jeremy, how could I not like it? Just thinking about it makes my
whole day. So there's nothing that could happen that would make me not like
it. "
	"Thinking about it makes your day?" I ask and giggle, somehow
intrigued at the idea that Mark actually thinks about these things.
	"Yeah, you think that's funny?" He asks in good humor.
	"I just didn't think you actually ever thought about it," I say and
he looks at me like I'm from another planet.
	"Jeremy, I don't think you realize how attractive you are," he says
after a while.
	"So how often do you think about it?" I ask getting a fit of
giggles. He shakes his head smiling.
	"A lot. Why don't we just leave it at that."
	"And what exactly do you think about?"
	"You want all the details?" He asks.
	"Just a few," I reply and he becomes serious again.
	"I think about being on top of you," he says as he moves his body
over mine and kisses me softly. As usual I forget how to breathe.
	"I think about kissing you," he says in between kisses. His hand
slowly moves from my side to my lower back. He moves me so that we're on
our sides facing each other. His hand on my butt.
	"I think about doing this a lot," he says as he squeezes my butt
gently. I giggle.
	"That's not so bad. I figured you had much dirtier thoughts," I say
smiling.
	"Well I only told you the very PG thoughts. I can't let you know
the depths of my depravity just yet. I gotta make sure you won't leave me
once you find out," he says seriously.
	"I won't ever leave you," I reply even more seriously. He kisses
me, and I feel his hand knead my butt again.
	"That is a really nice butt," he repeats.
	"Glad you like it," I reply laughing.
	"So, you know, just so I have an idea of what you like," Mark
starts saying a little self-consciously, and immediately scaring me because
he is rarely self-conscious, "what kind of...uhmmm...you know, who do you
enjoy watching...in, you know," he trails off waiting for me to catch
on. But of course I don't. I raise my eyebrows at him. "What kind of...uhm,
porn do you watch? Do you have a favorite guy?" he asks and immediately I
turn bright red and am rendered speechless.
	"Uhmm, I don't uhhh watch that kind of stuff," I reply and now it's
his turn to be speechless.
	"You don't?" he finally asks, very surprised. "Ever?"
	"Ever," I reply. He nods his head slowly, as if trying to wrap his
head around the idea. All of a sudden he smiles lightly.
	"What?" I ask feeling awkward.
	"Nothing, you're just so sweet," he replies making me blush as
usual. I make a mental note to watch some X-rated movies when I get
home. Suddenly I realize how cold the damn room is when I start shivering.
	"Sorry the heater is broken," Mark says sheepishly and gets up. He
goes over to a dresser and fishes out another pair of sweat pants. "These
are warmer than the other ones I gave you," he says. I wiggle my way out of
the other sweats in front of Mark and pull the new ones on. He watches me
intently.
	"See something you like?" I say using his line. He laughs.
	"Yeah, actually I do," he says and I go bright red as Mark laughs
even louder.
	"So is it bothering you? You know the no sex thing?" I ask self
consciously.
	"What do you mean?" He asks.
	"I mean, are you upset that we haven't done it yet?" I ask.
	"No, of course I'm not upset. I'll wait as long as you need me to
wait. For now kissing you is more than enough," he says and I smile.
	"Really? You're not just saying that?"
	"I swear." I look at him and I've got a crazy desire to just tell
him how much I love him. But I figure he probably won't like that, so I
just walk over and cuddle up to him on the bed. He kisses me softly. Just
his lips on mine. And it's so gentle, and sweet, and perfect. And for a
second my head stops spinning with thoughts and all I feel is
happiness. Complete, pure happiness.
	 All of a sudden a question pops into my head.
	"Did you ever..." I ask but can't finish. He nods his head, somehow
knowing what I'm about to ask, checking for my reaction. My mouth pops
open.
	"With a girl?" He nods again. I shake my head.
	"Why?"
	"I already told you, it took me a long time to accept who I
was. All I wanted was to fit in."
	"So you slept with girls? How? Are you bisexual?"
	"No, not really. I don't really enjoy sex with girls. But with some
alcohol, and the lights off it was possible you know," he replies. God,
will I ever not be shocked at the shit that happened in Mark's past?

	We drive home the next day because my mom is still apprehensive at
the idea of me spending so much alone time with Mark. When I get in the
house she's in her favorite room, the kitchen. "Jeremy will you take
Mrs. Taylor's little boy to his soccer game and babysit him for a few hours
tomorrow? She's kind of in a money bind so I told her you would do it for
free," my mom says, before I even get a word out, with an apologetic but
hopeful facial expression.
	"Well hello to you to," I answer putting my backpack down, "Why
can't Kayla do it?" I ask.
	"You know how your sister is. I can't trust a child's life in her
hands," she says whisper like. I sigh, of course she's right. I wouldn't
let Kayla watch a plant let alone a human being.
	"But I was supposed to hang out with Mark tomorrow," I complain.
	"Well just take him with you," she says matter-of-factly. I just
give her a look. Obviously Mark'a going to say no to that, but I agree
anyway, even though I'm completely inept with children. Deacon,
Mrs. Taylor's son is a nice, quiet kid whose parents have been struggling
financially for years now. When I was a kid Mr. Taylor got into a car
accident which left him paralyzed and unable to work. This completely
turned the family's life upside down. Mrs. Taylor had to get a job, and
with little experience it was very hard for her to make ends meet. My mom
babysat whenever she could.
	Surprisingly when I tell Mark he doesn't really make a huge deal
about it. I guess I forgot he used to train kids in soccer so it actually
might not be as bad as I thought. We pick the little boy up and drive to
the soccer field. Mark asks him some questions during the drive that make
me smile. He really puts an effort into being nice to the boy, and I find
it sweet. During the game, instead of sitting back on the sidelines, like
me, Mark is right in the middle of the action, annoying the crap out of the
coach with different suggestions.
	"This guy is an idiot," Mark says coming up to me during break
time. I realize he's referring to the poor coach he's been harassing all
game long. Deacon runs up right after him.
 	"Good job buddy," Mark high fives Deacon while I give the kid a
bottle of water. The boy smiles brightly. I realize his dad doesn't come to
his games, and the thought makes me feel sad. I look around? all the other
kids parents are here.
	"Well maybe if you let him do his job," I reply trailing off.
	"Well, maybe if he knew how to do his job I wouldn't have to do it
for him," he says whispering irritably out of Deacon's range. I shake my
head at him. The game continues for a while longer. Afterwards we go get
some ice cream from the ice cream truck. Deacon stands around for a minute
and finally Mark asks, "Which one do you want buddy?" The little boy points
to a green one.
	"You want the turtle one?" Mark asks, parental authority in his
voice. I stifle my laughter. He is completely adorable around kids.
	After we drop Deacon off at home, on our way back I start thinking
about kids. "So how many kids do you think you'll have in the future?" I
blurt out for some reason. Mark looks at me surprised.
	"Uhhh I'm thinking none. Can you imagine how bad of a parent I
would be?" He says and I'm shocked at his reply. Why does he think he would
be a bad parent? He's obsessively nurturing, kind, giving, and a million
other character traits that I think make a good parent.
	"Why, do you want kids?" he asks and I sense a note of worry in his
voice. I think about it. What kind of parent would I make.
	"I don't know," I reply truthfully. Mark considers my answer for a
while, but remains silent.
	"I think you would make a good dad," I blurt out again. God why did
I say that, I wonder silently. Mark watches me carefully. I can see that
he's very uncomfortable with my statement. After he drops me off at home, I
continue thinking about it.
	That night for some reason I have a strange dream. I usually hate
dreams, and wake up from them crying. But this one is warm, and pleasant,
and very strange. I'm in a house. I can't really see it, but I know it's a
house. I see Mark in the living room. He's reading through some papers. He
looks older and even more handsome. I'm in the kitchen pouring someone a
cup of orange juice. It's like I'm outside of my body, watching this whole
scene unfold.
	"There you go honey," I say turning to my left. I realize I'm
talking to a little brown haired girl, sitting on the counter swinging her
legs and playing with a bright pony toy. She takes the glass from me
smiling brightly. I smile back at her feeling pride and joy. Then I see a
little boy playing with a police truck. The car lights shining red and
blue, making far too much noise.
	"Not so loud Dex, you daddy is working," I say picking him and the
car up and bringing them back to the kids room.
	"Sorry," he says smiling up at me and I know I can't stay mad for
long. Mark comes into the room behind me.
	"Okay buddy, it's time to go to sleep," he says with far more
authority than I could ever manage. I smile and then wake up. The dream
leaves me puzzled and confused. What the hell am I thinking? I've never
wanted kids before. I've never even cared about kids. I shake it off and
try to forget about it as I slowly get up and get ready for school.

	Classes go by painfully slow that day. I fidget my way through
Science and English, filled with a tension I've never experienced
before. Memories of my birthday night run through my mind, making it
impossible to concentrate on the droning of my teachers. I'm completely
mortified as I slowly realize that I'm having sexual fantasies about
Mark. I think about his voice, I imagine his hands on me, I feel his breath
on my neck. When we finally get out of school and get to his house I fight
the urge to just throw myself at him. He turns on the stereo and turns back
in surprise as I grab his hand and lead him back to the bed.
	Florence and The Machine is playing softly in the background as me
and Mark lay down on the bed and start kissing slowly. And finally I
realize why I don't freak out anymore. At least not about kissing. Mark's
kisses are full of warmth, and care. His kisses are gentle, yet strong. I
feel his hand on my hip bone, apparently Mark has a thing for sides. Slowly
he breaks the kiss. I frown and hold on to his shirt. He smiles.
	"Slow, remember? We're going slow. And you're getting me too worked
up," he says enticing my passion even further. I never knew I would be able
to feel this way for anyone. To be attracted to someone physically, to not
think of kissing as something absolutely repulsive, but something
desirable.
	I grab his face and pull him into me, kissing him over and over
again. He finally gives in and I feel his whole body weight sink into me. I
moan lightly and Mark gently bites my lip. Then suddenly he looks up and
with a very serious face and a raw voice he says, "I love you." I smile,
finally the words I've been needing to hear for so long. I grab his face
again and kiss him more fiercely. He kisses me back but pulls away after a
while. "Say it," he says slowly smiling. I smile back and playfully shake
my head. Mark cocks his head to the right, and I giggle. He starts tickling
me ferociously and I beg him to stop through stifled laughs.
	"Okay, okay I love you, I love you," I say giggling and he stops
his physical attack. I stare into his eyes more seriously now, "I love
you," I say an gently kiss him. "I love you Mark," another kiss. "I love
you so much." His tongue makes its way deep into my mouth and we continue
kissing for what seems like forever. I forget all about my no sex
rule. This is the time. I need him more than I've ever needed anyone or
anything in my whole entire life.
	He turns us so that I'm on top, and momentarily I'm very
confused. But then I realize what he wants.
	"I can't be on top when we do this," I state panicked.
	"I know this isn't how you envisioned your first time, but trust me
it's the best position. You'll be totally in control. I don't want to hurt
you," he states gently. But I'm not convinced. Fear paralyzes me. I can't
do this on top of him, feeling completely exposed. I get off and lay down
on my side, embarrassed and discouraged. I'm a complete failure.
	"Hey," he says gently from behind me. I shut down and don't
respond. I feel the bed move as Mark gets up. Great, he's leaving, I think
as I'm about to burst into tears. Then the lights turn off and he comes
back to bed. He pulls the covers over us and draws me into his chest. He
kisses my neck gently.
	"Jeremy, you're so beautiful," he says. I never grow tired of
hearing that. I smile a little. I turn my head slightly to look at him.
	"So beautiful," he repeats staring into my eyes. I melt inside. We
kiss, the kind of kiss that's not hurried, but lazy, and deep, and
amazing. We kiss and I never want to stop kissing him. My desire awakening,
the embarrassment forgotten. The kiss is so good that I involuntarily move
causing my butt to bump against Mark's crotch. He groans into my mouth.
	"Jeremy," he says and the way he makes my name sound causes blood
to rush into my cheeks. He grabs my hip gently and explores it with his
hand. We continue kissing, his erection pressing into my behind. I moan
thinking about his attractive body pressing into mine.
	"I'm going to take my shirt off baby," he says statement like. I
realize that he's trying to not freak me out or surprise me by telling me
what he's going to do. I nod my head. He pulls his shirt off revealing the
admirable abs. I hesitantly touch them, making him inhale sharply. He
kisses me, full of want and longing and love. His hand goes down to the
bottom of my shirt and he gently pulls it up. I let him, and he smiles at
me. We resume our kissing, his chest touching every inch of my exposed
back, his hand gently exploring my hips, my stomach, my neck. His lips on
my lips. His tongue deep in my mouth, making me want and need more. I push
back against him again, hearing him groan never gets old. His thumb gently
grazes the skin right above my boxers and I push back into him more wildly.
	"Slow baby," he says steadying my hips.
	"I want you so bad," he says looking into my eyes, "I've been
waiting for this so long." I bite my lip, his words making me blush. Sure
there's fear, but right now my body is running on a current of desire,
begging me to be as close to Mark as is physically possible. I capture his
lips with mine again and he returns the kiss passionately. His thumb hooks
itself into my boxers and gently pulls down. I wiggle my legs until my
boxers are off. I have never felt more exposed in my life, but it's good to
finally be able to do this. Mark looks like he's in a trance. I've never
seen him more sexually turned on. He kisses my neck and runs his hand over
my naked behind and I shiver in excitement.
	"So beautiful," he repeats. I put my hand behind me and gently
place it over his groin as he inhales. Fuck, that's big, is all I can think
of upon touching it.
	Mark kisses me more wildly than usual. It's sloppy, but delicious
at the same time. I can't believe it's me making him feel this way. He
slowly takes off his boxers and lays back down behind me. I blindly put my
hand behind until I'm touching it, long, and big, and silky smooth to the
touch. Mark groans in my ear.
	"Fuck," he hisses as I start moving my hand up and down. His
breathing becoming more out of control as my heart beats wildly.
	"Easy baby," he says as my movements become more erratic.
	"Sorry," I mumble and he smiles and kisses me. I remove my hand and
he closes the distance between us with one movement. He grabs my hand and
our fingers lace together as he slowly glides up and down my behind, gently
stroking my opening in the process. I moan so loud I don't even realize
it's me making the sound. We continue making out and Mark's slow,
persistent movement is making me absolutely crazy. I want him, I crave him,
I need him right now, as close as humanely possible. I don't want any space
between us. I start grinding back in rhythm to his movements. Mark puts a
steadying hand on my hips. I push my opening against his tip and he groans
but then stops me.
	"What are you doing?" I ask as he gets off the bed and begins
rummaging through a drawer.
	"Looking for something," he says.
	"A condom?" I ask.
	"Well that too," he responds and I have a mini panic attack for
some reason. This is not how I imagined my first time.
	"I don't want to use a condom," I say and realize how little my
voice sounds. He pauses what he's doing to look at me.
	"You want me to bareback?" he asks confused, making me blush. I
want to slap myself. You're about to have sex, you're asking someone not to
use a condom, and then you proceed to blush about it. I guess it's the
surprise in his voice that made me blush.
	"Do you mind?" I ask.
	"No, I just thought you would, you know with my past and all. I did
get tested recently, but if you want to use a condom, I'm all for it," he
replies, and begins looking through the drawer again. "Fuck," he says
slamming the drawer shut. He comes back to bed. "I don't have any lube," he
says apologetically.
	"So?" I ask not really understanding the problem. He explains
patiently.
	"So I don't want to hurt you." My whole body is still in a state of
ecstasy. I just want him in me more than anything else.
	"I don't care," I reply and scoot my body close to his again. He
stops me.
	"No Jeremy, this is out of the question. I won't hurt you," he
states and I know he means it. I freak out, he doesn't understand that next
time might not be like this. Next time I might have a panic attack and
break down crying. Next time I might be in a different mood, I might think
about the pain. I need to do it now, now that it feels like the best thing
in the world to do.
	"Please," I beg looking over my shoulder at him. "Please Mark,
now." He looks beyond torn. Finally he nods his head. His eyes glazed over,
the desire won him over the same way it won me. I gently push back against
him.
	"Mmm, lick my fingers," he says in the sexiest authoritative tone
of voice I've heard him use. I put each finger in my mouth, one by one, and
lick them sloppily as he slowly grinds his front to my back. He takes his
wet hand and wraps it around his length, then after a while puts it in
between my cheeks. I moan in pleasure. Mark grabs my face and kisses me
passionately. I back onto his hardness and feel the tip against my
opening. As his tongue probes deeper and deeper into my mouth I slowly push
back, and then, forward, and then back again until I can't take it any
longer and I push a little harder. Mark breaks the kiss as the head of his
erection slowly enters me. He's looking into my eyes, filled with desire
and emotion, his mouth slightly open. I'm looking back at him, the person I
love and trust the most. Letting him know me in the most intimate way. And
it feels amazing. I put my hand on his face and he kisses it as the rest of
him slowly enters me. I moan, and close my eyes.
	"Open your eyes, I want to see you baby," he says. I open my
eyes. He's deep inside of me now. I'm so overwhelmed with every kind of
amazing emotion. He starts pulling in and out, in a very slow, gentle,
steady rhythm. Our eye contact never breaking. He is breathtakingly
beautiful, as he enters and renters me over and over again, in the most
deliciously agonizing routine.
	Our rhythm slowly picks up and I can't help closing my eyes as I
moan. Mark's hand grabs my hip so hard it almost hurts. His jaw tenses.
	"Fuck," I hear him mutter. I open my eyes and bring my face closer
to his, leaning in for a kiss. He kisses me long and hard, his tongue
getting more and more desperate. I moan into his mouth.
	"I'm gonna cum in you baby," he says in a voice I barely
recognize. I slowly nod feeling the pressure building up in me as well. His
length pushes into me over and over again until I can't take it anymore and
I explode all over the sheets without even having to touch myself. Mark
starts moving faster until his whole body tenses and I feel a warm liquid
fill my insides as he groans into my neck.
	We lay in a heap of two warm, sweaty, entangled bodies. We look at
each other and start laughing.
	"Oh my God," Mark says rubbing his face, "that was amazing." I
laugh, completely overwhelmed with the feeling of happiness. For once in my
life I feel?normal. I have no fears.
	After a while, when both of our hearts have calmed down, and when
our bodies are no longer shaking, Mark turns to me and says, "I know you're
disgusted by my past, but I just want you to know that it's never felt the
way it has with you. I never knew it could actually feel so...I don't know,
intimate I guess. So amazing." I smile at him, feeling the same exact way.
	Finally we decide to slowly get out of bed. I go in to take a
shower, and leave Mark to check his e-mail. When I walk back into the room
sudden fear freezes me in my tracks. A familiar Facebook page glares at
me. And Mark asks the one question I hoped to God I would never have to
answer, "Who is Stuart Breckett?"

End of Part 1