30 December, 1996

A Message


(Originally written sometime in late 1996.)

Arising from the depths of the deep,
Meeting the sun with rays we reap,
Becoming dry from the sweltering heat,
Entering a house, so nice and neat,
Resting there for me to keep, -- is you.

Guessing a hidden meaning
Understanding as though one were weaning,
Yearning to understand,
Expecting no such demand,
Remembering that there is meaning -- in every word.

Intercepting my feelings,
Lest my frequent kneelings,
Over all that I do,
Vindictive in lieu,
Entertaining my willings, -- is what I know.

Yet I know also of you,
Of your beauty, intelligence and how you never feel blue,
Unbelievable, inconceivable, but true.

22 July, 1996

Who's Scott?


[The following is a copy of an undated letter sent to Emily Mertz sometime soon after 22 June, 1996.]

Hi, Emily. What are you up to? I've been going to the recent Mardi Gras parades. They're a bunch of fun. I don't really know the history of the season, but it involves people riding on floats with masks on and throwing things at the people that watch them. Now I know that it sounds violent, but it's true. They throw things like Mardi Gras beads and moon pies and frisbies, and all sorts of wierd stuff. It really is a lot of fun.

I'm sure that by now, you've forgotten my real name, so I'll remind you: it's Eric. (This way you won't have to press contol-g in order to figure out my name. And speaking of member profiles, I do believe that I'm supposed to tell you why I quoted "Who's Scott?". Well, the following is the complete story with no details left out.

The pinnacle of my acheivements was when I started the WHOSCOTT? club. You see, it all started when my algebra teacher at Adams Middle School gave me a brochure. His name was Mr. Hines. He told me that the brochure was for the Alabama School of Mathematics and Science (ASMS) and he said that if I wannted to, my parents could enroll me into their summer program. (The school was for Juniors and Seniors only, but their summer program consisted of any and all children aged ten to fourteen that wanted to attend a boarding school for a week or two and learn more than the average student gets to in a public school, despite the oxymoron that ASMS is a state tax supported school - in other words, a public school.) I was ecstatic, and my parents sent me there for a week. I was thirteen.

I found the course stimulating and very enjoyable. Being a state school, students would come from as far north as Chirooka (that's right on the Alabama-Tennessee state line) just to attend. They had a swimming pool (it gets extra hot in the summer this far south) , a bowling alley, a soccer field, a recreation room with a big screen TV and all sorts of neat things. That was the most fun I had had in a while.

(Don't worry, the point will come out and rear it's ugly head pretty soon. Sometimes it takes a while for people to figure out what I'm talking about because it takes so long to get to the point.)

After that summer program, I went to Satsuma High School as a freshman. Boy, did I dislike my freshman year. But that's no matter because at the end of that year I recieved a letter from ASMS. They were inviting me to stay the upcoming summer. (Of course, they didn't pay my way, I had to include costs myself.) I happily accepted the offer and what happened next is the most amazing thing that has ever happened to me. But that's a different story; I'm busy right now with WHOSCOTT?. You see, after my mother dropped me off at ASMS, I met my roommate, James. That night we then met our Resident Advisor (RA) , or, in laymen's terms, our "guy-in-charge-of-us-so-that-we-don't-get-in-any-trouble-with-the-school." His name was Jeff McGeHee (pronounced MickGee) . He had a single middle name and that name did not begin with an S. I know that sounds like a stupid thing to tell you, but it's important, so remember it. You also need to remember that he did not have a nickname other than "Hey, you, the RA of mine whose name I can't remember!". That's also important.

Anyways, Jeff had a single distinguishing characteristic: he always wore a baseball cap, and he always wore it backwards. (Okay, so that's two distinguishing characteristics.) So when I saw him in the office, I knew it could be no other person. Here's what happened before I saw him.

James and I were going to order some pizza, but when we reached the pay phone, some 10 year old was already on it. We decided to wait behind him. I turned my back to the kid. I started to get tired of his constant talking. He just wouldn't hang up. He just kept going, "Yeah, Grandma, I really like it here... yeah, it's fun...they have all sorts of cool stuff, yep,... uh-huh..." I got so tired that I started to amuse myself by mimicking him to James' face. But then I noticed something strange. Across the hall was the main office. It was a corner office, and the two sides facing the hallways were made up of glass from about waist level up. There was a receptionist's desk in front of the window on one side. In front of this desk was a slot where I suppose she could slide papers through; the important thing about this was that it was an opening into the otherwise soundproof room. Anyways, I noticed Jeff McGehee, my RA, inside the office by himself. He had a phone up to his ear, like he was listening lightly.

I had been looking for quite a few seconds before I realized that all that he had been doing was listen. He was not talking! Now, I know I probably haven't told you this before, but every once in a while, my brain stops working. It is during those periods that I become very extremely stupid. My ignorance durings these short intervals upshots dramatically. It was when I noticed my RA, Jeff, that this intelligence-defeater stepped in. And, all of a sudden, I got this stupid idea. I turned to James, my roomate, and remarked: "Hey, I think someone else is listening to this kid talk, too." (Of course, this was physically improbable, since the kid was talking on a pay phone, while Jeff was on the phone in the office.) Anyway, males being the way they are, my stupidity rubbed off on James, and he replied to me in a positive way. "Yeah, Eric, I think that's Jeff, our hat boy." (Recall the backwards baseball cap.)

This stupidity was pretty funny in itself. But it gets even better than that. You see, we both started looking at Jeff at that moment, and therefore lost our place in line. (The kid had left, and now someone else was ordering pizza. I don't like line skippers.) But right now, I really did not care. You see, Jeff had started to talk. His head had recently jerked up, as if he had just been taken off hold. I suppose that he thought that no one could hear him, but we were near the slot I told you about earlier. We could hear him say just about anything. But neither of us were ready to hear what he had to say next. "Hey, man. This is Scott." My mouth dropped. James was flabbergasted. "Did you hear what I think I heard?" I slowly nodded. My mouth formed the word Scott, but I couldn't say a word. And not only could I not talk, but I also could not hear another word that Jeff said.

Neither could James. We were too astonished. (Weren't we stupid?) Before I know it, Jeff "Scott" McGehee huyng up the phone. And then he started walking towards the office door. He was coming our way! I grinned and told James what I was going to do. I was going to ask him the immortal question... "Who's Scott?"

James and I rushed to catch up with Scott. And then I looked him straight in the eye with a straight face and popped him the question. He looked at me, raised his shoulders, lowered his head, wrinkled his face, squinted his eyes, gave a confused smile, vehemently shook his head, and spurted out a deformed sounding - "What?" James quickly spun around to where his back was to Scott. He looked perfectly normal, except for that from my view, I could see about a 30 degree angle from my side of his front. He was laughing hysterically under his breath. I kept my composure, however, and I asked Jeff the question one more time: "I asked who Scott was, Jeff." James started to turn around, but it was all in vain, because Scott once again went into his look-innocent act and moronically said "What?" . I noticed James immediately turning around, and this time you could tell he was shaking a little bit from the back side. But I just barely gave a grin, and was about to ask him when James turned around with his face all red and said:

"Eric, uh, let's go to the bowling alley." Then he put his hand over his face to keep from laughing and pulled my arm towards the opposite direction of Scott. Scott stared at us as we walked away, but as soon as he turned a corner, we both busted out laughing, me more than him, being that I had held it in me so much longer than he had.

After it was all over, and I we were feeling better, we called for pizza. At this point, however, we had to wait for our meal. So we sat down in the rec room and started talking. And then an idea formed in my head. "Hey, James. Couldn't we make Scott (hint of laughter) really mad if we put a sign on the door to his room that said 'Who's Scott?'" James looked at me like I was crazy, but he started to get my idea. But then I started to get bigger ideas. I saw the whole scheme of things... a vision in my head. I saw my RA going insane from the shock of seeing "Who's Scott?" written everywhere he turned. (Remember, I still got those stupidic moments.) My head was getting swarmed with ideas, and all of them were about Scott. By the time I got to my dormitory that night, I had ideas coming out of my ears. (Boy, was that idiotic moment of mine was long.) That night, James kept me up all night saying "What? What? What? What?" over and over again. I finally laughed myself to sleep.

22 June, 1996

ASMS

[The following is a series of journal entries as downloaded from my TI-92 calculator at the time, where I used to keep a record of my thoughts. Not all of what is written here is specifically from 22 June, 1996, but it is all from a one week period up until that date. Bracketed comments were added at a later unknown date, shortly after the original was written. Emphasis is shown in CAPS because my calculator had no other method of showing emphasis (other than _underscore_). Mistakes are all assumed [sic], including unclear writing, since this was not retyped, but copied and pasted into LJ. This posting (made February 1, 2005) is the first public record of these documents. Please keep in mind that at the time these were originally written, I was thirteen years of age.]


Hey! My name is Eric Jonathan Herboso. I'd like to tell you about some background in my life: My social groups (the Drumline, the soccer team, among others). I also want to tell you about my roomate this year at ASMS: James Morrison. He's cool. And I want to tell you about my three best friends: Greg Cochran, Kevin Henderson, and Peter Holzaepfel. But at the moment, I wish to tell you about ASMS's program, of which I am currently in. I am in room S401, an t looks like a nice large classroom, especially big when you take into account that only about 10 people are in the room. One of whom, Laura, looks pretty good. I might go check her out. Kinda slow at graphing, though. She may be a virtual Annie Sheffield, though it seems pretty far-fetched for me to be asked to come to her dormitory and have her wearing a bikini. (Sounds good, though, doesn't it? I think so. Do you?) [Please see "Encounters Of The Two-Piece Kind: Annie Sheffield"] Also, a girl from the orient is another of whom I am conversing with. She seems cool (këwl, as Peter H. says it). Chemistry class now. It's cool, too. But, I gotta go; Class is starting.

Guess what? I found the Clint! Really, man, I ain't lyin'! Yeah, see, he says his name is Jonathan, but I know he's really Clint Reneman. Oh, and I wanted to tell you, we went to the movies and Steven [one of the RAs] bought us rated 'R' Fear tickets. I sat next to a real nice lookin' girl, and that was cool, but she didn't 'peak' my interests any more than another would have. We made comments during the movie, but that was all. In fact, it was so ordinary that you're probably wondering why I'm even mentioning it. Well, I'll tell you. At the end of the movie, she got up, but didn't stand straight up. I had a great view of her BoUTique, if you catch my drift. Anyway, because I'm acting fairly crazy now that I'm at this AIMS thing, I decided to get up as well. Now, of course you're asking yourself, WHAT?! DID I MISS SOMETHING HERE?! Actually, you didn't, except the part that I have not mentioned yet. I acted like I couldn't get all the way up. And so I was scrunched over in the dark theater. And two inches in front of my nose was her nicely shaped butt. Not a bad sight.

James Morrison, my roomate, is cool. He just moved here from Georgia. But more on him later.

Remember Laura, the girl that I said looked pretty good? (You know, the bikini joke.) Well, guess what I did after Dr. Kouadio's chemistry class? I asked Laura if I could talk to her for a moment in private. Once outside, on the Science/Admissions bridge (4th floor), I told her that I had found her attractive from the very first day I saw her, which I did. Then I said that as I got to know her personality and stuff better, I found myself more and more attracted to her. And I was extremely polite about it. Once she was finally mine, I took her to a secluded place. But we did nothing but talk there. So I took her somewhere a little more... claustrophobic. We went into the soundproof room, where the piano is. We sat there, on the piano bench, hugging and talking from after supper, at 6, to 9:20. Amazingly enough, those hours were the best I'd ever spent. We talked about everything there is to talk about. From light to parents, from sex to "Who's Scott?", we said it all. I said it all. I suppose I increased her sex education a little higher than it used to be, but she would have found out sooner or later. I enjoyed just... being with her. You know, technically, she is my first; and although I don't plan to refrain from my abstinence with this 12 year old, I'm not opposed to the idea of pre-copulatory activity. I kissed her yesterday night, as I left; on the cheek now, this wasn't a mouth to mouth thing. [That would come later.] And other than relatives and a few close friends, she's the first girl I ever kissed; certainly the first for that particular reason. Hummphh. I suppose she will be my first in many different categories. [A great premonition.]

The "Who's Scott?" campaign is going great. Operation Alias is a huge success. Everybody on the first floor of the men's dormitories knows about it and half of them are helping with the project. Half the second floor knows too, and it's great, 'cause I started it all! We figure we can incorporate everything into "Who's Scott?" memorabilia. We'll have crossword puzzles, basketball tournaments, scavenger hunts, marathons, and all sorts of cool things. Plus our two advertising ideas both work great. The idea of having big posters all over the school wasn't exactly novel, but it's a great idea, and it spreads the message. But the hidden poster idea, formulated by me of course, has been an even bigger success. We've written "Who's Scott?" everywhere, from on bathroom toilet paper, to paper drinking cups in the cafetria. You can't throw anything away without seeing a "Who's Scott?" trash can, and all the water fountains are covered with it. The piano has a 'C' key that doesn't work. Why? Because there's a "Who's Scott?" piece of cardboard sabotaging the note. Do you like the periodic table? Guess what it says at the bottom of that thing? You know what's written on the ceiling fan? On the coke machine? On the shower stall? On my calculator? "WHO'S SCOTT?"

Today, Brandon [Knight], our fall guy, will... [passage accidentally erased]

I've got a chess game with the chess man tonight. It should be pretty good. He's extremely talented. I'd like to see him on Go.

Dr. Kouadio, our chem teacher is absent today. Dr. Pfeifer, our physics professor will have us all day. That just means I have to watch Laura stare at me all day long. Now that I've professed all but love to her, will she be enchanted by me, or will I be ignored all class period? We'll find out I guess. And another question: Should I say I love her?

Well, guess what? I said I loved her. I did what only REALLY good friends do. And I invited her into my room. Not so that we could do anything, but so that we could talk without interruption. And only two places have no interruption: the sound-proof piano room, and the dormitories. Well, we were tired of the claustrophobic piano room. And we went to my room. And the guys told Bennet. [I now know whom: Jonathan Hupp. The Clint.] And Bennet asked me to come with him to Scott's room. Laura and I went, and we were told that this was serious. No one from one sex is allowed in the other sexes dormitories. And that's a very strict rule. I knew that it was against the rules. But I also wanted to see Laura in private. And since I thought the rule wasn't as strict as it was; I decided to let her in. And I was wrong. I shouldn't have done that. And it wasn't Laura's fault. She was following me. I might have brain-washed her mind to do what I say. I mean, I'm her first boyfriend. She's naturally gonna try to be with me, even if what I do is against the rules.

You know, it's mandatory for offenders of this rule to be expelled from school. That is how badly enforced they carry this rule. I did my best to get us out with the least sentence. We're grounded till Monday morning. We have to be in our room all the time, unless we have class, we have a meal, or we have to use the bathroom. [Note what I just said. It's very important. I'll refer to it later.]

I've made up my mind about what I'm going to do now. I'm going to Scott's room and see if I can convince them to be easier on Laura. Even if it means making my punishment more severe. I think I'll go now. Wish me luck.

They weren't there. [I talked to one of the girl Resident Advisors, and she basically told me No Way.]

Chemistry class; And I'm now extremely happy. I fondled Laura, of whom has forgiven me, all during physics. Alex did all our work. My hands explored all over her. They found their way eventually up her shirt. And then down her shorts. And then I slowly pushed my hand into her panties in the back. And I reached inside her bra and her areola was extremely excited. I sexually excited her. And then I'd stimulate sexual movements on her vagina, through her panties, of course. During our breaks, we went to an empty classroom on the second floor. In that room, I did something that I will never forget. I gave her an extreme amount of kisses, from the cheek, down the neck and to the edge of her shirt, which was not unbuttonable. So my hand explored her waist and stomach, and they reached up until I hit her bra. At that point, I moved the bra above her breasts. And then I cupped the breasts with my hands. And I used one hand on the breasts, and with the other hand I placed in her panties on her butt cheeks and pushed her toward me. Her vagina would have been in contact with my hard, rigid manlihood, had it not been for our clothing. She said no only twice - both times when I placed my hand on her vagina and simulated the movement. But she said it even then very hesitantly. I believe, had I wanted to, I could have fucked her right then and there. I do believe I have more control over Laura Adkins than I have ever wielded before.

Guess what I just did? I just took another 20 minute trip to the classroom. And I did my stuff. Sucking tits isn't as hard as I thought it would be.

I just got kicked out of the lunchroom for fondling. But Laura and I have come up with some great ideas for getting to see each other. First of all, breakfast is served a little bit later for the weekend. However, for some strange, attractive reason, Laura and I don't know this. We will come for breakfast at the normally scheduled time: an hour early. And we will come early to breakfast, as usual. At 6:45 am tomorrow morning, we will be at the lunchroom. Breakfast ends at nine. Then we'll be stuck in our rooms till 12:00, when we get another hour till 1:00. Then we'll be back in our rooms again till an hour later at 2:00. At that time, we'll be washing and drying our clothes. Then, when we finish, we go back to our dorms until 4:45, when we will eat dinner. Then we'll have to leave around 6:15, when we'll go back to our rooms. The next day has the same schedule, except that if we get caught going to breakfast early, our excuse is we thought it was Monday. Then the next day will be Monday, at which point I go out on a date with Laura Adkins to wherever there is to go on the van trips. But we'll have quite a lot of time between the end of Monday's classes and the beginning of the van trip. I think we'll either be in the piano room hugging or in a meeting room or old classroom doing something other than hugging. Maybe we we'll get close to number five, although I seriously doubt actually hitting four point nine barred.

I've got a lot to do now. WHOSCOTT?(r) is going great. There are forgers all over the place. All official ones have my symbol on it, but the forgers are putting more out there than I could even find out about. Someone on the fourth floor science building bathroom unrolled the toilet paper, put "Who's Scott?" all over it, and rolled it back up, nice and neat. I've seen plenty of foreign languages:
Wer Ist Scott? - German
¿Quien es Scott? - Spanish
Who be Scott? - Homeboyish
I'm Scott! - Homogayish

There's even been one in Chinese that I can't recod here. [Actually, I could, but I couldn't record it on my calculator at the time this was written.] I've seen "Kick me, I'm Scott!" on people's backs; "Scott Sux!!!" on a bulletin board; "Scott's the man!" in the rec room; "To be, or not to be, that is the Scottshin" on an exit sign; man, I could go on forever. But they're not as ingenius as my plane geometry WHOSCOTT?(r), or my Star Trek WHOSCOTT?(r). Nor can they beat Master Wu's dance party thing. And they can't beat the free Dr Pepper prize for figuring out the answer to the question: "Who's Scott?" And what about the WHOSCOTT?(r) basketball tournament? And the WHOSCOTT?(r) foosball championship? And what of the WHOSCOTT?(r) scavenger hunt? Our WHOSCOTT?(r) campaign is doing nicely, don't you think? :)

Alun'll be back Monday. He said he's bringing everything from a TV to a game system. By then, I'll be able to come to whatever parties I 'create' at his dorm.

I may not love Laura, but I sure am gonna have a hell of a lotta fun with her before school gets out. I love seducing her... it is so cool! She like does everything I say! And she doesn't know any better than to let me "fondle" her. I got her tits in my mouth, man! It is so cool! I'm going nuts having to wait till Monday before completely doing her! But I care about her just the same. She's... what I'd usually call a friend. I know she doesn't love me, but I don't love her either, so what's the big deal? If she allows me to play with her butt and her breasts, well, that's her problem. What bites is that she won't let me take her vagina in my hand; even though I've done it thrice already, each time she says no. But I'm having fun while she's enjoying herself; where's the harm in that? I know she surprised when I started kissing her cheek and kept going down. When I got to her shirt, I scrunched it up out of the way and I continued onward to her waist and then her breasts. Actually, a breast - her left. And coming up behind her, cupping her bare breasts and pushing her towards me... oh, her butt feels exquisite upon my penis. On Monday, I know right now that I'm going to get her to a table or something and get her shorts or skirt off. And the shirt. And then I'll play with her for a long time before I show her my manlihood and ask for a blowjob. With any luck, we'll be going to the movies Monday. Then I think we'll see Fear. That way I can get my hand on her again, especially at that part on the roller coaster ride. That would be the perfect day to end our suspension with. :)

Saturday: OH, MY GOD!!! Today is the first day in my entire life to have had that much fun in a 10*6 piano room during all of the eating hours in the day!!! Her body is so sensuous! Her breasts taste better than any food and now she allows my hand EVERYWHERE upon her body! I even had her on the floor, and I held her there and kissed like mad! But then, despite the fact that no one ever goes on the third floor of the admissions building, we were a bit scared that someone would see me on her with her bra not where it is supposed to be! So we went back into the SOUNDPROOF piano room that had a LONG BENCH to play the piano on, ... AND IT HAD NO POWER!!! That means, it had NO LIGHTS and no a/c, which made it VERY HOT!!! The only problem was that it had a single door that had a sheet of clear plastic as the door. Despite this, I did all that I wished to do. Sadly, we were abruptly stopped by Josh of whom was looking for me along with Eli and James. One of the RAs was checking in all the dorm rooms! I kissed Laura bye and rushed back with a sweet taste on my lips. This wouldn't have been all that bad, being that I didn't get caught not in the dorm or the lunchroom, except for the fact that Josh saw me sucking... Laura. Oh boy. How do you explain something like that?

I went to do my laundry. Laura was there. It took forever to get our clothes washed and dried. We stayed in the laundry room the whole time until an RA named Lakisha or something took a complaint filed by a parent that didn't want PDA (Public Displays of Affection) around her kid. The RA told us to go someplace private while we washed and dried; so we went to the third floor, just outside the piano room. (The piano room was too hot and stuffy - look at what happened last time we were in there!) Every 15 minutes to a half hour, we came downstairs and checked our wash; we had to wait for a drier. We were there from two to about 4:40... that's when James saw us. We had to go with him to the conference room. Then we found out that we were expelled. Major problem. We're not even allowed to wash clothing during in-room suspension. And so now Laura is calling her parents. And I will be calling in probably a few minutes. Without a picture of her. The last thing we said to each other was
"Don't forget to call me, Laura."
"Umkay."
"I love you."
(Laura starts to cry.)
I walked out at that point. And on thinking back, I do believe that, near the end of our relationship, ... I really did love her.

WHOSCOTT?(r) is going to go great without me. It's already all over the bathroom, from urinals to shower stalls. We've got slogans, parodies, paradoxes, among other things.
It's been written in five languages.
It's been written upside down.
It's been written in Chemistry class.
It's everywhere. Everyone has the WHOSCOTT?(r) fever. This is so cool. Except Laura. That's uncool. And our screw-up. Our two screw-ups.

I can't stop thinking about Laura. I have a way to get in touch with her, and that's good, but... I do have a pair of her underwear, just as she has a pair of mine. I made sure that it was that way when we did the laundry. Sadly, I do not have one of her bras... That would have been appreciative. She is the first girl, albeit 12, that I have touched like that. On the last day, while waiting for laundry, she started coming onto me almost as much as I did to her. She would lie me down on the floor and give me kisses. She would wait until we were standing together facing one another and she would push on my back so she could feel me manlihood up against her vagina. And I had set a date: Monday afternoon, I would screw her. It was settled. She agreed. But the mother of that black boy filed a complaint on PDA. And so we were found out. We were not found in our rooms, but in the laundry room. And we weren't there, because the RA who didn't know about the in-room suspension told us to go elsewhere. So we did. And we were expelled for it. And our chances for being a future student here were lessened. At least I will be able to visit every once in a while. When she's at her grandmother's. We could go out to the movies, or something like that. The only tough thing is screwing her if I don't have a car. My dad could drop us off at a lot of places, but probably not a hotel. Maybe someplace that has a lockable bathroom door. Or an empty theatre. Or perhaps a janitor's closet. But I doubt I could get her into a bed unless it was just at my house. Yeah, ... Just us... at my house... PERFECT!

Laura is so beautiful. She had what it -

[Note: At this point, I am at my g-parents' house, and so I learn my punishment.]

Guess what? I just told Becky, Papa, and G-Ma what happened. And I told Mike about WHOSCOTT?(r).

FUCK! FUCK THIS! THIS FUCKING SUCKS! THIS IS THE WORST FUCKING THING I'VE EVER HEARD! DID YOU KNOW IT'S AGAINST THE FUCKING LAW FOR ME TO BE DOING THINGS WITH LAURA! SHE'S FUCKING UNDERAGE! AND SINCE SHE BELIEVES IT'S NORMAL FOR FUCKING COUPLES TO FONDLE, WHEN HER PARENTS ASK, SHE MIGHT JUST FUCKING TELL THEM WHAT THE FUCK I DID! AND THEN HER PARENTS'LL SUE MY ASS! SHIT! FUCKIN' SHIT! OH, MY FUCKING GOD! THIS IS THE FUCKING SUCKIEST THING I EVER HEARD! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK, FUCK, FUCK! I COULD GO TO JAIL FOR THIS! FUCK! I HOPE TO GOD SHE DOESN'T FUCKIN' SAY ANYTHING! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK THIS FUCKIN' SHIT! IT FUCKIN' SUCKS! OH MY FUCK! I'M FUCKIN' SCREWED IF SHE SAYS ANY FUCKIN' THING! FUCK! GOD DAMNED CABRON CITO! SHIT! FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS ONE FUCKING GIRL COULD FUCK MY LIFE UP! I THOUGHT I HAD CONTROL OVER HER! SHE CAN FUCKIN' KICK MY ASS ON THE STREET WITH ONE FUCKIN' WORD! THE SHIT IS FUCKIN' ILLEGAL! I CAN'T EVEN "FONDLE" HER FUCKIN'ASS! EVEN IF SHE FUCKIN' LETS ME FUCKIN' DO IT! FUCKIN' STATUATORY RAPE, MAN! FUCK! FUCK IT! FUCK IT! YOU KNOW ME WELL ENOUGH TO SAY THAT I PROBABLY WOULDN'T HAVE SCREWED HER ON MONDAY! I MIGHT HAVE GOTTEN TO 4.9 BARRED - BUT NUMBER FIVE?! NO FUCKIN' WAY! THIS IS BIGGER THAN BEING EXPELLED! AND I FUCKING SAID "FUCKING SHIT" FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE WHEN I GOT EXPELLED! I NEVER WOULD FUCK A FUCKIN' 12 YEAR OLD GIRL! SHE'S FUCKIN' 12 YEARS OLD! A FUCKIN' BABY! SHIT, MAN! THERE'S NO FUCKIN' WAY! AND I EXPLICITLY TOLD HER TO SAY NO IF WHATEVER I DID WAS TOO WEIRD FOR HER TO HANDLE! SHE SAID NO THREE TIMES! AND THAT WAS ONLY WHEN I FUCKIN' STUCK MY FUCKIN' FINGER IN HER FUCKIN' -

Shit. All she's gotta say... Fuck. I might have really screwed up my life. I might get put in jail for 30 to 40 years. Fuck. Fuck. If she tells her parents. Will she? She the honest open type. Or won't she? She said her mom would flip if she knew what we were doing. Maybe she won't tell anyone except her closest frien - Shit. She said her closest friend is a mild diabetic. She might blurt out anything if she drinks caffeine. Please, Laura... Don't tell anyone. Unlike me. I'm going to tell Pete everything. [And I did, too.] But only because I trust Peter. What if she trusts... She's got the ultimate personal grenade. If she wiggles a little too much, it blows up in my face. And she's the one with control. If I do something wrong in her eyes, ... She drops the grande. It's Dr. Kouadio's motto. "The woman makes all the rules." Whew. My entire façade of gentlemanness could crumble before my eyes. Roni would be correct. I am a horny perverted teenager (HPT). Or she might not say anything, nor threaten to. Then I get action every time visits her grandparents. This is either the best thing to ever happened to me, ... or it could be the worst. I hope to the almighty Lord that she does not tell. I pray to the Lord.

You know, ... they're right. Love sometimes can hurt more than anything else in the world. And the pen is truly mightier than the sword.