Love Along The Paperclip novel Chapter 1

Pearce and Carlson's Non-sequiturs

The last week of school is a myriad of unfocused teenagers counting down the moments until they can be free. Girls have already begun the transition of pants to shorts (stepping toes over the dress code with each new questionable pair of daisy dukes) and boys have traded their hair gel for aviator sunglasses that reflect the sunlight and give them a sense of mystery.

Conversations buzz around me as I sit in my usual seat at the back of the classroom. Most revolving around what people are doing this summer and who is planning on dating whom. I try to block out a particularly loud exchange coming from Tracy Satty's mouth, but it seems she wants the entire class to know that she is spending the summer on her daddy's cruise ship.

"Daddy has been saying for, like, ever that I would take a cruise that I've been begging and begging to take!" Her watery blue eyes sparkle with excitement and she raises her arms, using exaggerated motions with each word. "So, finally, he bought the tickets! I am all ready for a tan and pool boys! I bet I'll see-"

But I don't get to find out exactly who Tracy will see because Mr. Emerson clears his throat at the front of the room, signaling the start of class.

At Winston Prep, there are good teachers, bad teachers, and then, there's Mr. Emerson. Six foot one, glossy windswept brown hair, just out of college, and long spidery fingers that immediately bring attention to the fact that he is unwed and a very good-looking bachelor.

Mr. Emerson is the bane of almost every girls' existance. At the beginning of the year, many girls actually cried when they found out they weren't in any of his classes.

"Today is the start of the last week of the school year." He slowly walks the length of the room, making sure to catch every person's eye in the front row. Several girls lean forward, hoping to tempt him enough to stay a few moments longer.

I look across the room and roll my eyes at my best friend Adrienna. She smirks and pretends to faint. I have to quickly cover my mouth to keep from laughing out loud, although a muffled giggle escapes.

Colton Pearce turns in his chair in front of me to give me a quizzical look. I shake my head, rotating my finger to mean for him to turn around.

"Not until you agree to go out with me."

I sigh exasperatedly. Colton has been asking me out for exactly two years. And for exactly two years I have been turning him down. You would think that since he plays both basketball and football he would have other and better prospects for female attention, but he continues to waste it all on me.

"Mr. Pearce," Colton doesn't even look up, but nods signaling that he is, in fact, listening to Mr. Emerson.

"Would you care to tell the class what is so important about your conversation with Ms. Carlson? Or would you simply like to turn around?"

"Actually, Mr. Emerson, I was asking Ms. Carlson here out." He lowers his voice slightly but it's still loud enough to easily carry across the room. "So what do you say, Cass? You wanna go out with me?"

I look to Mr. Emerson, hoping that he will order Colton to turn around and stop pestering me. But he is staring at us, as if he too is interested in my answer.

I roll my eyes. "No, Pearce, I will not go out with you."

"Darn, foiled again." Colton quickly turns back around in his chair, motions for Mr. Emerson to continue. "Now that I've been shot down -once again- please go on." He sends a smirk over his shoulder and I pretend to be absorbed in taking notes.

I lean against the wall and slide down to the floor. "I don't believe this." I say in disbelief. "I've never been asked to leave a class. Never!"

"I know." Colton joins me on the floor, setting out bags beside him. "It takes some getting used to." He patts my knee consolingly.

"But it was your fault!" I whirl on him. "You kept talking to me and you made me blush and he ordered us out!" I purposefully don't mention when Mr. Emerson said we should resolve our lovers' spat. Or when he referred to us as 'Mr. and Mrs. Pearce'. I would rather those things aren't repeated aloud.

"Whatever you say, Mrs. Pearce." Colton continues to pat my knee.

I shove his shoulder and he comes back and collides softly with me like a pendulum.

"I wonder what he wants to talk to us about after class." I say after a quiet moment.

Colton shrugs. "I dunno. If his preceeding track record is true, then he will need a body bag, rubber gloves, and an extremely sharp paperclip."

"Shut up," I laugh and nudge him again, although this time only with my shoulder.

"It's true." Colton insists, his light green eyes dancing with amusement. "You should hear what some people are talking about. They say he has forty-seven uses for a paperclip. And that he was in the CIA but got kicked out for being too sexy. Although I think the latter might be a lie." He frowns slightly, as if trying to work out whether or not the last bit is true.