sam frank

“Yeah, you wish,” she said with a smirk. She pecked me on the cheek. “Just you. But next time I want to be naked.” There she goes again with the “next time” stuff, I thought. “Now get out of here so I can clean up and come back to earth before my next class. I zipped up her dress as we went to the door. She twisted the lock, peeked into the hall to make sure no one was there and pushed me out. “I’ll see you next class.”

The school year was coming to an end and I was busying myself with spring sports. I was doing track and field, distance events like the 1,500-meter run. I also tried my hand at pole vaulting, which did not go well. I had to quit vaulting before I really hurt myself. One particularly grueling Friday at practice, I noticed Mrs. B. in the bleachers watching. Faculty often wandered out to watch teams practice or play, but Mrs. B was rarely among them. She lingered when the practice was over, so I went over to say hi. She seemed genuinely happy to see me, even though she had been quite aloof in class or in the hallway.

The two former brothers then charged towards each other and began their fight. Falco hurled punches with the skill of a trained boxer, every attack carrying the energy of a sledgehammer at full swing and relying on blocking with water for defense. Viktor replied with animal-like slashes, each finger capable of burning right through armor like it was cotton, and banking on his agility to avoid harm.