Calvin cracked his knuckles in the wings.

     "Cal, relax. You're going to make the kids nervous," said Roger.

     He took a deep breath and blew it out. "I know. I'm sorry. I'll stop."

     Cookie walked up to the men.

     All three adults were in their Sunday's best. Faces and legs were shaved. Teeth were flossed. Hair had product.

     "Gentlemen, we have VIPs backstage," said Cookie.

     Calvin and Roger followed her.

     George was standing by the door, carrying a large arrangement of flowers.

     Calvin wasn't expecting to feel nervous at the sight of his new boss. "George? What are you doing here?"

     He placed the flowers down on a vacant table. "Just wanted to drop off a little gift from me to the cast."

     "They're beautiful. Thank you," said Cookie.

     "No, thank you three for putting this together. I'd invite you all for drinks at my house after the show, but junior and I have a morning flight to catch."

     "But we'll celebrate during summer vacation," Calvin interrupted "when you guys are able to come to Los Angeles to visit."

     Roger put an arm around Cookie. "Sounds good to us."

     "Splendid. Break a leg, kids."

     As George made his way out the door, Marlo stepped inside. He too was dressed, shaved, and dapper.

     If George's presence made Calvin nervous, Marlo's invigorated him with energy. "Marlo, you made it."

     He made a sour face. "I couldn't miss this."

     "How's the house looking?" Roger asked him.

     "Surprisingly full."

     Calvin's stomach cramped. "Oh, no."

     Roger put a hand on his shoulder. "Easy, Cal. Don't be puking all over these expensive costumes."

     "Well, we're just about ready to start," said Marlo. "I'll introduce the two of you, bring you out, and then you can say a few words before we raise the curtain."

     "Okay. We'll be ready," said Roger.

     Marlo walked ahead a few paces, then turned around as if he forgot something. His attention was on Calvin. "Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I saw your friend Violet in the audience on my way here."

     Calvin's eyes got big. "Really? I didn't think she'd show."

     "Yes. She was looking too radiant to be attending a high school play."

     He smiled. As was common, an uninvited guest entered his thoughts when he was most happy. "By any chance, did you see... anyone else in the audience?"

     Marlo sighed. "I invited her, Calvin. She told me she had plans."

     "Oh. I see."

     "But hey, don't dwell on that now. It's showtime."

     One of the theater techs gave Marlo a microphone. "We're ready to start, Mr. Cabrera."

     "Okay, here we go."

     Marlo walked to the center of the stage. He was coated from head to toe in the brightness of a spotlight.

     As audience members noticed his presence, they stopped what they were doing to applaud.

     One row in the audience, however, boo'd.

     Calvin snuck a peek through the curtain.

     The lights were too bright against his eyes, but he was able to make out a few faculty faces.

     His stomach churned in anger at their rude antics. How much longer were they going to torment his brother?

     Marlo's introduction of the play's directors went over his head.

     "That's our cue. Let's go," said Roger.

     Calvin snapped out of his spell and followed Roger to the center of the stage.

     The same people who boo'd Marlo applauded for them.

     Roger took the microphone from Marlo's hand and spoke into it. "Thank you, Principal Cabrera. And thank you very much, ladies and gentlemen, for being here tonight."

     As Roger continued to talk about the hard work the students put in and the talent they possessed, Calvin's mind was busy thinking about how the faculty's poor treatment of his brother was just another reason to leave Julian behind.

     He wished he could let everyone know so that Marlo could have a fighting chance at being a real principal, one who had the support of his people.

     But the governing board was made up of individuals who needed contracts to prevent others from using a public medium to voice their opinions like a soapbox.

     Calvin blinked. He realized he never signed that contract.

     "And now, I'd like to hand the microphone to my fellow co-director and colleague, Calvin Leblanc."

     The sound of applause woke him up again. He took the mic and brought it to his mouth. "Thank you very much, Mr. Stuart. I don't think there's anything else I can add to that. I can only echo what you've said about the hard work these young men and women have put in."

     Being in front of a large crowd usually frightened him numb and mute, but for some reason, he didn't feel that now.

     He felt young, free, and rebellious.

     You're too young to own anything worth protecting.

     Calvin's posture slumped. His tone lost professionalism. He felt like a comedian during a stand-up routine. "And furthermore, I'd like to add that this will be my last night as a member of the Julian faculty."

     The room went completely quiet.

     "I wish I could say it was a pleasure to work with them, but unfortunately, as you can see by the childish behavior they demonstrated when they boo'd our school principal in front of the students, Julian's faculty continues to live in the past."

     "Cal, what are you doing?" Roger muttered.

     "I've seen less bullying among students than I have among teachers. And these people are supposed to be role models? Psh, give me a break."

     The room buzzed with hissing and whispers.

     "So, yes, starting tomorrow, I no longer have to worry about getting bit by one of the many snakes Julian has for teachers."

     The whispers because louder cries of confusion.

     Calvin's voice became chipper again. "Anyway, remember, no eating or drinking during the performance. Enjoy the show."

     He walked off the stage with the microphone in his hands.

     He felt alive, excited, the youngest he'd ever felt.

     Cookie was just as shocked as Roger was. "What the hell was that?"

     Calvin grinned like an evil villain. "The start of a revolution, my friends. Damn, I think I need a little air after that."

     "Good call," said Roger "If I were you, I wouldn't be in a building full of teachers, either."

     Calvin tried opening the backstage door to the outside, but it was locked.

     "You've got to go through the front. And if I were you, I wouldn't come back," said Cookie.

     Roger patter his shoulder. "That was unreal, Cal."

     "Thanks, buddy."

     "Now go."

     The performance was well underway.

     Calvin tiptoed across the walkway, through the lobby, and out into the open air.

     He took a deep breath. It felt great to be outside, to take a risk for a greater good. At least he wanted to believe what he did was for the greater good.

     Where to now? A bar? A nightclub? Somewhere I can start a fight? He walked to the corner of the block with a chip on his shoulder.

     "Hey," called out an angry voice behind him.

     Calvin didn't stop, didn't look over his shoulder. He raised a hand and kept walking. "Whatever you have to say, I don't care."

     The crack of high heels against pavement got louder.

     He turned. The sight before him took his breath away.

     Genevieve looked at him like she was ready to charge. "What in the world was that?"

     He hadn't been that close to her in weeks. His addiction to her scent was reignited from a spark in the ashes.

     She stepped closer, making the theatrical outdoor lights hit her face.

     Calvin had never seen angrier eyes in his life.

     In a flash, Calvin was reminded of the face he fell in love with, the one he wanted his offspring to have, the one he wanted to wake up next to every morning.

     Get out of here before you fall for her again.

     She pointed to the entrance. "You realize you just ruined the evening for those kids?"

     The consequences of his actions became too real.

     But what was done was done. What did Genevieve care, anyway? "What are you going to do? Are you going to hit me?"

     She lifted her head with a raised finger between their faces. "Don't tempt me."

     Calvin's rebellious nature peeked its head through the sadness. He moistened his lips. "Maybe I will."

     Genevieve took a step back. She was now a witness to a Calvin she'd never met before.

     The electricity between them was enough to burst every one of the outdoor bulbs.

     Calvin's heartbeat at a rate so high, it was practically a vibration. He was afraid, but he wasn't backing down now.

     Genevieve sensed his next move. She studied him with a smile that both taunted and seduced him. "You don't have the guts."

     It might have been the curiosity of knowing what being slapped in the face felt like, or maybe he just felt invincible.

     Whatever his reasons, Calvin cupped Genevieve's face with one hand, brought her body closer to his with the other, and tasted the mouth he'd fantasized about for months.

     She didn't gasp or flinch as Calvin was expecting. Her hands were somewhere neither one of them knew.

     The taste of her soft flesh was so intoxicating, he swore it'd be the death of him. But he absorbed the energy she gave off, which was evident in the way she kissed him back.

     His fingertips made their way to the back of her skull, pressing against the sensitive skin on her scalp.

     Genevieve tensed at the sensation, gasping against his mouth.

     Calvin was producing enough testosterone to power the upcoming Julian varsity football team through an entire winning season.

     When his inner scientist-turned-caveman encouraged him to use his teeth, he knew it was time to go.

     Slowly, he pulled away to give her room to breath.

     His hands slipped off her body like clothes. He still had his wits about him, and they told him not to get addicted to the taste of honey he just experienced.

     Calvin pulled away, but a force unknown made it physically difficult.

     He looked between their bodies.

     Genevieve was grabbing at his shirt, bringing him in possessively. Her eyes were still closed.

     The sight of her wanting him close was dangerously pleasing.

     He leaned in to kiss her again.

     "Calvin," said another deep voice.

     All arousal came to a screeching halt. He opened his eyes and looked over Genevieve's shoulder.

     Marlo looked at the couple with an unreadable expression. He was nearly out of breath. His mouth dangled open for a second before he closed it.

     This can't be good. Calvin swore he saw a smile, but more than likely he wanted to see one. "Marlo—"

     "Run," he interrupted.

     Genevieve turned. Her expression was just as blank as his.

     "Huh?" said Calvin.

     "Run. Now."

     An older gentlemen came out of the door Marlo walked out of. He pointed an enraged finger at Calvin. "There's the little punk. Get him."

     Calvin understood what Marlo meant, but he remained as motionless as a statue.

     Genevieve released his shirt. She grabbed one of his hands and ran ahead of him. "We better go."

     An angry mob of teachers formed behind Marlo.

     Calvin finally reacted. He ran alongside Genevieve, following her lead.

     They were several yards away, but they were slowly closing in.

     Once she led him to her car, Genevieve took a ring of keys out of the purse and used one of them to open her car.

     You're not leaving me here, are you?

     "Get in," she ordered.

     Calvin did as he was told, joining her inside the car.

     Like two bandits making a getaway, they slammed the doors closed, pulled out of the curb, and sped down the one-way street.

     His life might have been in danger, but the rush was undeniable.

     Through the rear view mirror, Calvin saw at least a dozen Julian teachers with their fists in the air, yelling out swear words and demanding that he come back.

     The adrenaline high was so intense, all he could do was laugh.

     Genevieve laughed with him.

     He looked to his left at his heroine in high heels, coated with street lamp light. "You saved me."

     She took control of her panting. Her ruby lipstick was smudged. "What else is new?"

     Too many questions ran through his head, many of them were about his own mental state.

     He ignored all of them. He was alone with Genevieve once more. What else mattered? 

     That kiss is a good start. Calvin blushed at the two-minute-old memory. He kissed her. Finally. And she enjoyed it as much as he did. Now what? He licked his lips at the possibilities. 

     "So," she said "You're heading for Los Angeles tomorrow?"

     How did you know? It didn't matter. "I am, at eight in the morning."

     She kept her eyes on the road. "No time for a going-away party?"

     His eyes were glued on her exposed knees. He was her puppet once more. "Guess not."

     Genevieve checked her rear-view mirror. She bit her lip, deep in thought.

     Calvin moved his eyes from her knees to the top of her blouse.

     The car slowed down as they approached a red light.

     Genevieve turned to her right, catching her admirer with his hand in the cookie jar.

     He looked back, unapologetic.

     She gave him that look, his look. "How about a nightcap at my place, just the two of us?"

     A one-night rendezvous? Come on, sweetheart. I've got some dignit—"Sure," said Calvin "For old time's sakes."

     Damn, it feels good to be young.