The mahogany grandfather clock in the corner ticked impatiently. The dark wood echoed that of the imposing desk that took up half the room. Carter sat slightly curved in her chair, legs crossed, hands folded over her stomach. Her expression that of mild amusement.

"Mr. Owens, I appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule to be here today," Principal Withers said.

Carter glanced at her father, his posture was one of military rigidity, his black suit immaculate, his face unreadable. Hints of gray peeked out through his hair, despite his age.

"I don't wish to keep the president waiting so I will come to the point. Mr. Owens, your daughter," Principle Withers shot a look at Carter, who had busied herself by picking a piece of imaginary lint off her crumpled uniform, "dislocated the shoulder of a fellow student."

Carter raised a finger.

"Technically, he dislocated his own shoulder," she interrupted.

In the blink of an eye she read annoyance in her father's face. The slight narrowing of his eyes, tightness in his lips and the twitch in his eyebrows.

"Lucky for Ms. Owens, no charges were pressed by the young man. Carter has already served her punishment for her actions, but I wanted to be sure to bring this to your attention. Since this was her first offense detention was assigned. But," Principal Withers's eyes narrowed at Carter. "should this happen again, Carter would be facing suspension, possibly expulsion."

Carter met the Principal's gaze, her face impassive.

"Thank you Principal Withers for bringing this to my attention." Her father shot Carter a stern look, his jaw flexing. "I assure you this will not happen again. Was there anything else?"

The grandfather clock ticked louder and the Principal rose, buttoning his gray suit jacket, the color almost matching his hair.

"No, that was all. If you will excuse me, we are receiving a large group of students this morning and I must get back to work."

Carter's father stood, shaking Principal Withers' hand.

"Good day," her father said.

Carter slung her messenger bag over her shoulder and followed her father out the door. Students trickled into the halls, their voices bouncing off the polished floors. Carter tucked her hands into her pockets, giving her father a sideways glance. His features revealed nothing, though his tense shoulders and quick pace spoke volumes.

"So..." she said.

She could read the tension in the corner of his mouth and smiled.

"Carter what were you thinking?" her father said, his voice hard.

"I thought we needed some father daughter bonding time so, I picked the most annoying kid I could find. Believe me, half the school was thanking me."

Her father spun on her.

"Carter, I taught you self defense to defend yourself, not so you could use it on some politician's son."

Carter raised her hands.

"Come on Captain, do you honestly think I did it for fun?"

"Then why?"

"The guy was beating up on some girl. Mind you, she was putting up a fight, not a great one but a fight none the less."

"So you dislocated his shoulder to stop him?"

"No, I tried to talk him down. But when that didn't work, I put him in a lock. I clearly told him if he tried to move what the consequences would be. He didn't listen," Carter said, with a shrug.

Her father's shoulders relaxed and he started walking again.

"Sarge, why didn't you inform a teacher?"

"You know the kind of guy. If someone doesn't smack them around at least once they will just do it again."

Carter's father glanced at her.

"You know I'm right," she said.

Her father looked away, pushing the front door open. Cold spring air rushed to greet them. Bare tree limbs were dotted with tiny buds. Gas fumes filled the air as a line of sleek cars entered the drive to the front of the school. Students brushed past Carter as she followed her father to the parking lot. Bright chattering voices sent clouds of white mist into the air.

Her father paused at his black SUV, turning towards Carter. She tensed as she read hesitancy in his eyes and across his forehead.

"Look Sarge, I'm leaving tomorrow. Four day trip," he said.

Carter's stomach clenched, as she crossed her arms and leaned against the spotless hood.

"I'm getting the feeling you don't like me. You keep finding reasons to leave."

"Sarge, it's four days."

"You just got back, two days ago. Sometimes I think you like this President guy more than me."

"I trust you will stay out of trouble while I'm gone?"

"If I did then when would we ever have these lovely times together?"

He smiled, the years dropping from his face. Carter stared into his broad face; at the features she wish she wore, not her mother's tan skin, narrow face, straight nose and bow lips. She got his blue eyes and thick brown hair.

"I'll come back and we can go to the shooting range. Or do one of the training courses with some of the guys," her father said.

"Anderson still pissed that I got the jump on him in our last round?"

"You're an eighteen year old girl and he's a trained Secret Service member. You answer that question."

"I am your eighteen year old daughter. He should have remembered that."

"His mistake."

Her father pulled her into his arms and she rested against him. She held onto him with silent ferocity, her stomach twisting. He pulled back, laying his hands on her shoulders.

"I'll come back. Remember, I'll always find you." His words were echoed in the cold metal that hung about her neck. "That's a promise and a threat."

"So you're saying I can't run away with my Marine boyfriend?"

Her father's expression darkened and Carter smiled.

"Not funny."

"I thought it was. Besides, your promise would be more impressive if you weren't Secret Service and there wasn't a tracker in my necklace. If you were a normal father than it would be a completely different story."

"Nevertheless, you have my promise. Now promise me you will stay out of trouble."

Carter tossed her hands up.

"You take the fun out of everything. Yes, you have my promise."

"Good."

He kissed her on the forehead and climbed into the car. Carter stepped up to the window.

"Remember, you're signed up to take a bullet, but that doesn't mean you have to take it in the chest. Heroes suck. l'll take an average, if not a more supreme than other's, father over a hero."

"I'll see you at home, Sarge."

"See you later, Captain."

Carter stepped back as the car reversed. The carefree expression dropped from her face as the black car pulled away and her stomach knotted on itself. She stood tense as she watched it disappear into the river of traffic. She stayed frozen to the spot for a moment longer, her emotions storming in her eyes. With a sigh, she headed back towards the school. It was a dark gray, stone building dotted with windows. It had the look of old money and history.

Her brain half registered the flood of new faces mixed with the one's she had already memorized as she walked through the hallways. She moved past clusters of students, reading in their expressions and body language what their words were withholding. Hungover, depressed, dumped, nervous, struggling.

She settled onto her stool in the crowded classroom, her gaze darting from face to face. She glanced at the teacher standing at the head of the class and let out a groan. A guy took the spot beside her as Carter slumped in her seat, head resting against her hand.

"Stupid pop quiz," she muttered.

"I'm sorry?" the guy beside her said.

Carter looked at him. In the span of a heart beat her brain memorized his light brown hair, broad forehead, hazel eyes, fake black glasses, thin lips and a birth mark by his right eyebrow. She looked away.

"I was reflecting on my frustration of there occurring this morning a pop quiz," Carter said.

"Did he just announce that?" the guy asked.

Carter glanced at the guy again, taking in the rest of his appearance. He was a few inches taller than her, wide shoulders but a narrow frame. There was a sense of familiarity hovering over his features, but he looked away, staring down at the desk.

"He did. In a way," she said.

"What do you mean?"

She waved a bored hand towards the teacher.

"Just look for yourself. It's obvious to anyone with eyes."

The guy looked to the teacher but confusion still dominated his face.

"What am I missing?" he asked.

Carter pointed.

"Notice how his features are relaxed. There's a slight smirk in the corner of his mouth. Also his hand keeps moving to the folder before him," she said.

"He could just be happy," the guy suggested.

Carter turned a skeptical expression on him.

"It's Monday. He's teaching advanced chemistry, at a private high school, filled with spoiled, rich kids. He's not just happy. It's a pop quiz. Besides, I've memorized that expression."

The guy gave her a wide, amused smile.

"What?" she asked.

"I'm Link."

He stretched out a hand.

"Carter," she said, shaking his hand.

"Alright class, let's get settled," the teacher said.

The room slowly quieted as students turned towards the front.

"I have a surprise for you. Pop quiz!"

A round of groans echoed through the classroom. Carter glanced at Link and smirked. He chuckled as the door opened. A blonde haired guy walked into the room, trailed by a large man in a black suit.

"Mr. Douglas, so pleased you could join us," the teacher said.

The guy gave the teacher a smug grin and slid into a seat. Carter watched as Link followed the guy's movements, tension stiffening his shoulders.

"So enters wonder boy," she mocked. "Should we all stand and salute or do you think he'll accept a mocking bow instead?"

Link looked to her, his eyebrows raised.

"Not a fan of the First Son?"

"Oh, of course I'm a fan. To be otherwise would be unpatriotic."

Carter winked and Link's shoulders relaxed.

***************

The bell rang, sending shoes scuffling, papers rustling and voices chattering. Carter stowed away her notebook and slung her bag over her shoulder. She followed Link out of the classroom and into the noisy hallway.

"What class do you have next?" he asked.

"AP History with Philips. You?"

"Same. Can I walk with you?"

Carter shrugged, sliding her hands into her pockets.

"Sure, I won't stop you."

"Do you mind waiting for a second for a friend of mine? He was sitting in the back," Link said.

In response Carter leaned against the wall, crossing her ankles. A tall guy stepped from the classroom and walked over to Link. Carter glanced at him.

He had short black hair, intelligent blue eyes, that almost looked black, and handsome but boyish features. He had an air that said he could care less, but there was a subtle energy in his stance that said he was prepared for anything. Though he barely gave Carter a glance, she felt in the brief instant that he had memorized the five defining points of her face, his look holding a quiet intensity.

"You ready to go? AP History is in the North Wing," he said to Link, his voice low.

"First, I'd like you to meet Carter," Link said.

The guy's gaze raked over Carter. The look studying instead of sexual.

"Carter this is my friend Donovan Keller," Link said.

Carter looked between Link and Donovan trying to put together the thin, rumpled boy with the neat, athletically built guy.

"You two are friends?" she asked, not masking her skepticism.

"We live in the same building. He keeps people from beating me up," Link said.

"In turn, he helps me with homework," Donovan said.

Carter smirked.

"Yes, because naturally anyone who is freely taking advance chemistry needs help with homework."

Link's cheeks colored but Donovan's face remained impassive. Carter frowned slightly trying to calculate the length of their friendship. She nodded to Donovan.

"Keller, like the Senator?" she asked.

"Yes, like the Senator."

Filing away the bit of information, Carter pushed herself off the wall and headed down the hallway, letting Link and Donovan catch up with her.

Link settled by her side, Donovan beside him.

"So, what brings you here to Hamilton prep?" Carter asked.

"We used to go to Jefferson private high school but something happened. The school had to close down for repairs so we got sent here," Link said.

"What happened?" Carter asked.

"The building wasn't structurally sound," Donovan answered.

Carter looked at him, trying to read beyond the blank expression but found nothing.

"Wasn't structurally sound?" she asked, her tone amused.

"I think something with mold in the basement," Link said.

"Fascinating," she said.

She directed them through the chaos of the school. Up clogged staircases and down mobbed hallways. She paused outside the history class, turning back to the flow of students. Link looked at her, puzzled.

"Aren't you going in?" he asked.

Carter rested against a set of lockers, searching. A smile creased her lips as a couple came into view.

"Not yet. I'm going to watch the fight. Jonathan and Macy are going to break up. Wait for it," she said.

Link took a step closer to her.

"Who?"

She pointed to a couple walking towards them. As Jonathan's gaze followed a passing girl, Macy turned on him.

"I knew it! You're cheating on me! How could you!" Macy screamed.

The fight dissolved into tears, hysterics, pleas and angry shouts before two teachers broke the couple apart. Carter chuckled as Macy was escorted to the office, her makeup smeared down her face.

"How did you know?" Link asked.

Carter shrugged.

"Easy. I noticed her stiff shoulders, tight lips. The distance between them. His scowl and wandering gaze. Besides, it's Monday and that's what they always do," she explained, hoisting herself off the lockers.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, I figure it's their way of keeping the romance alive. Cause really, after the first initial attraction what do they have in common? Other then the fact that neither of them can send a text without an abbreviation or an emoji."

Link started laughing. Carter smiled.

"Come on, the bell will ring in one minute, thirteen seconds," she said, ducking into the classroom.

The young teacher in his mid thirties barely glanced up as Carter walked in. He was in the process of lowering his gaze when it snapped back up at the sight of Link and Donovan. Carter caught the look, noting the hint of surprise and confusion that flickered in his expression.

"Morning Mr. Philips," she said.

The expression vanished and he gave her a short smile.

"Hello Carter. New students I see. Find a seat anywhere," Mr. Philips said.

The bell rang as Carter slid into an open desk. She looked back at Mr. Philips, finding a tiny frown edged between his eyebrows, his eyes on Link.

**********************************************************************

Oh sizzle snap! (🤦🏽‍♀️ Wow I don't even know how to apologize for that. Please forget it happened. I beg you)

Big question for you! Oh right, first, thanks for reading and tell me what you think, blah blah blah...

Moving on! As I start this book I need a new type of greeting. A Second Chance had hello in different languages, Every Second...(I have no idea what I did) and Mr. Write has been going on with a weird food kick, it's really odd. Don't tell the author I said that, she's really weird.

Vote, comment, follow! Haha have I mentioned before the fact that I am quite odd?! Well, now you know, snickerdoo!

ONE LAST THING! 🙊 Oh jeez sorry for yelling. I have young readers so please don't leave dirty comments. Thanks for being respectful, Noodle! 😘