Crossing the Line

By Leonard Critcher

Powerful, covert forces gently weave their way into the life of college
sophomore, Chris Carter, whose successes are accelerated when he realizes
that abandoning his stringent moral upbringing yields not only increased
power but the attainment of what becomes most important to him. Hidden
beneath his outgoing personality, athletic good looks, and natural leadership
skills is a razor sharp mind that he uses to turn a small Louisiana campus
into his personal fiefdom. His admittance into a clandestine fraternity inner
council opens the door to much larger forces that secretly control the countrys
business and professional worlds and the politics that answer to them.

Crossing The Line is the second novel in a trilogy, picking up where the widely
aclaimed Drawing The Line stopped, leaving readers anxiously awaiting for
what will happen next to the splendid cast of characters. Highly sensual and
fast moving, Crossing The Line tracks the meteoric ascent of Chris Carter
from the campus of Centenary College to Harvard Law School and back to
Shreveport, where he joins the citys most prestigious law firm. His innate and
developed skills, combined with his learned propensity for doing whatever
is necessary to win, prove invaluable as he becomes embroiled in a medical
malpractice lawsuit. Enhanced by the unknown forces he becomes a part of,
it takes a combination of every skill in his possession to meet head-on the
power of the medical establishments in north Louisiana and Atlanta as well
as one of the richest corporations in the world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jan 21, 2013
• ISBN: 9781477298596

Leonard Critcher

Leonard Critcher is married to his college sweetheart, and they reside in Dallas, TX. He is the author of three nonfiction books, numerous professional articles and is a frequent platform speaker. Drawing The Line is his first novel.

Book preview

© 2013 by Leonard Critcher. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 01/17/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4772-9861-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4772-9860-2 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4772-9859-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012923414

This book is based on some true events and references some real places, however, is fictionalized. All organizations and persons appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

DEDICATION

To my friends from Centenary College, those I wish I had become closer to, and my Kappa Sigma brothers, all of whom enriched my life significantly.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Four

Chapter Forty-Five

Chapter Forty-Six

Chapter Forty-Seven

Chapter Forty-Eight

Chapter Forty-Nine

Chapter Fifty

Chapter Fifty-One

Chapter Fifty-Two

Chapter Fifty-Three

Chapter Fifty-Four

Chapter Fifty-Five

Chapter Fifty-Six

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Chapter Sixty

Chapter Sixty-One

Chapter Sixty-Two

Chapter One

Sophomore Chris Carter stared at the door leading to the hallway outside his room in the men’s dormitory suite and knew it was time, past time, for him to leave and face the day ahead. The anxiety he was feeling was minimal but still was having an effect. There were two issues that were the cause of the incessant rumbling in his intestines. The first would surface soon enough; he had overstepped his bounds and violated fraternity protocol. The second situation would come to a head later that night. As he stepped toward the door he took a deep breath and found it had little effect on the rumblings.

The flurry of activity in the three story courtyard gave the appearance of a well choreographed musical. The preponderance of green tee shirts, emblazoned with the Sigma Sigma crest, were a stark contrast to the Georgian brick façade of the dormitory. Chris looked down from outside the room he would share with his former pledge brother, John Allenby, and smiled at the futile attempts of the other two fraternities.

It was move-in day, and the courtyard, halls and stairwells were packed with wide-eyed incoming freshmen, a few transfer students and concerned parents being basically ignored by their offspring. The Sig Rush Chairman had spent the bulk of his free time during the summer following the tried and proven methods of his predecessors. Each year on fall move-in day all first year Sigma Sigma initiates would don their lookalike fraternity tee shirts. Under the pretense of welcoming the new arrivals to college by helping them get moved into the dorm, they would begin the selection process for new pledges to supplement the eighteen from Closed Rush. Desirables would be invited to the fraternity house that night; those deemed unworthy would not.

John Allenby smiled broadly as he waved at his new roommate from the ground floor of Cline Dorm. The green tee shirt he was wearing was identical to those worn by the sophomore Sig actives except his did not have the fraternity crest on the front, only the words, Sigma Sigma. Chris returned the wave and thought back to the events only three months removed but that now seemed an eternity ago. His fists clenched involuntarily as he envisioned the always cocky Tidwell McIntosh, the Sig active who had made life a living hell for his friend and former pledge brother. He shuddered every time he thought about his distraught and drunk friend teetering on the railings of the Texas Street Bridge, a hundred feet above the swirling waters of the Red River, ready to end his life rather than face a future of humiliation, humiliation from not only being blackballed but from what he had been forced to do.

Chris remembered his promise to his friend, a promise that had kept Allenby from hurling himself to a certain death. He was still perplexed about the rapid chain of events that unfolded after his phone call to his freshman year roommate, Jimmy Lawrence. Knowing he had to do something but not knowing what or how, he had called Jimmy as soon as he had arrived home for the summer. His debate trained mind carefully related the sequential order of what had happened in the course of less than twenty-four hours. Chris and his debate partner and close friend, Ted Ambrose, had gone looking for a missing Allenby, who had left what was basically a suicide note on his bed. It was the last night of the spring semester, and their search ended downtown as soon as they saw the multitude of police cars cordoning off the bridge spanning the distance between the cities of Shreveport and Bossier City, Louisiana. Chris had told Jimmy of his promise to Allenby and his physical attack on McIntosh, fueled by the unspeakable sexual acts forced on the vulnerable pledge in exchange for a promise of initiation, an initiation that would not come because of the single black ball, cast secretly by McIntosh. Jimmy had responded only that he would see what he could do and had added emphatically that they were never to speak of this again.

Chris walked slowly down the steps from the third floor to join his fraternity brothers. As he did, he pondered what could only have resulted from his request for help. McIntosh had received three letters on the same day. One letter was from Centenary’s Dean of Students. Both it and the letter from the Shreveport Commissioner of Public Safety requested him to appear before them upon his return from summer break. The third letter was from the national headquarters of Sigma Sigma in Athens, Georgia. It informed him he was no longer a member of the fraternity. As he had done over and over the previous summer he tried to deduce the how; he knew the effect but not the cause.

Carter! Over here! I want you to meet someone. The voice was unmistakably that of Tommy Hargrove, boisterous but at the same time overflowing with a cheerfulness that made everybody think he was their best friend. In Chris’ case, he was.

Chris was still a good fifteen feet away when Tommy started introducing the smiling freshman, Chris, I want you to meet Bob Howard. Bob, Chris Carter. Chris finished the last ten steps separating them and shook the outstretched hand. The grip was firm, and the name was somehow familiar.

Bob is a local, well sorta. As Tommy continued, the mystery was solved, Bob graduated from North Highlands. Had a scholarship offer from Tech but screwed up his knee this summer. Bastards took it back.

Chris knew immediately who he was. Man, that’s too bad. How did it happen?

The freshman shrugged his shoulders and said, Water skiing. Got a little too cute on Lake Bistineau and caught a log. Rehab went well but not good enough for the coaches. Decided to come here instead. You know, without football education became the most important. Then he added, You remember me?

Chris hesitated briefly while a flood of memories swam through his mind. Jenny.

The memories of his torrid affair with her made him smile when he answered, Sure. We actually never met, but I think you dated Jenny.

Bob was still smiling when he said, Yea. Screwed that one up. Dumped her right before Homecoming. Guess that was lucky for you!

Tommy shuffled uncomfortably as he remembered the many nights he and his friend had double dated, he with a succession of girlfriends, Chris mostly with the beautiful high school senior. Their evenings would almost always end at the Centenary College baseball park, joining a long line of cars for a fitting finale before the female dorm residents were required to be back and safely locked in for the night. Tommy and Chris both adhered to the generally accepted code of not asking and not telling, but the sounds coming from Tommy’s backseat had left little about which to speculate. He could only imagine what went on when the two were alone, benefactors of his loaning Chris his car from time to time.

‘Lucky? You have no idea!’ was what he almost said but didn’t. What he did say was, Yea. Jenny’s a great young lady. Haven’t seen her since our summer rush party. Hope she’s doing OK at Tech. The guilt he suppressed resurfaced in his mind. Although more than a willing participant, Jenny had given him her virginity and his to her. They had corresponded over the summer, she expressing her undying love and wanting to hear the same from him. Even though they had enjoyed an intense physical relationship Chris could not let himself utter the words she so longed to hear, not until the only time he had seen her since going back to Houston for the summer. Their well known relationship lent itself to her being an unofficial Sig Girl at the summer rush party. She had performed her duties well, flirting with wide eyed potential rushees while simultaneously enhancing Chris’ posture. The day-long Saturday festivities had ended with their trek to the ballpark. Jenny’s kisses were passionate, but every time he had tried to progress beyond simple grubbing, the Centenary term for making out, she had rebuffed his advances. Desperately in need of venting almost two months of pent-up frustrations, he had gently taken her face in his hands and looked deeply in her eyes. Jenny, I love you. The words came out so easily, and her supple body melted into his. The urgency of his needs and the fulfillment of hers brought their bodies together. Afterwards Jenny had pulled her shorts back up over her firm, tan legs and rested her full breasts on Chris’ bare chest. He had gently stroked her shoulder then let his hand slide down to her still erect nipple. He said it first, Jenny, I love you. The response was almost instantaneous.

Bob Howard’s voice interrupted his thoughts, She’ll be fine. I saw her a couple of times over the summer, but all she could talk about was you. Anyway, it’s good to finally meet you.

Chris nodded and looked over at Tommy, who was just then clearing his recollections. Tommy, do you need any help getting our friend settled?

He answered with his patent, disarming smile radiating over his long, round face, Naw, we’re good, brother!

Chris held out his right hand and as Bob took it he said, You are coming down to the Sig house tonight aren’t you? Tommy admired his friend for many things, not the least of which was his mastery of the spoken word. The way he had stressed the word, are, left little chance that Bob Howard would go elsewhere.

Chapter Two

Chris walked along the poured concrete path from Cline Dorm, past the ancient and abandoned Rotary Hall, turned right at the Student Union Building, crossed the bridge spanning the water lily pond and thought about his first kiss there with Ashley. He would see her later tonight; the rumblings began again and kept his mind off the sweltering Louisiana humidity.

Just past the back side of the expansive Mickle Science Building was Brown Memorial Chapel. Chris wasn’t sure why he had taken this path to the fraternity house. Maybe he just needed time to think, to be by himself before the evening began.

As he walked down Woodlawn Avenue past the three sorority houses he noticed the flurry of activity coming from each. Rush was over for the girls, all three houses filling their quota, and the new pledges were doing little to contain the giddiness pouring out of the open windows and doors.

Straight ahead of him Chris saw the Kappa Alpha Sigma house with the totally functioning cannon in the front yard serving as a crutch for the five new pledges leaning on it. The sixth young man looked vaguely familiar, but his face was turned away and the blue, button-down shirt and khakis he was wearing stuck out from the five tee shirts emblazoned with KAS. As Chris veered right to head toward the Sigma Sigma house the young man turned toward the street, and his eyes locked with Chris’. Bob Howard’s smile was as expressive as it had been only a few hours earlier when the two had met in the courtyard of the dorm.

After a brief exchange with the five KAS pledges he walked confidently toward Chris with his right hand extended. Hey, Chris! His voice was bubbling over with what appeared to be sincere friendship tempered with an innate self-confidence.

Hey, Bob, Chris said as they shook hands.

After an awkward few seconds while neither spoke Bob continued, Listen, man, I’m gonna have to take a rain check. Uh, The KAS’s made me an offer I couldn’t turn down. He pointed to the flag pole that was still sporting the hot pink panties that had been flying in the gentle breeze since sometime in the early morning. It was customary for a tangible token of the year’s first conquest of a freshman girl to be thusly displayed, leaving to campus-wide speculation who the fallen young lady might be.

Chris understood in a heartbeat. The KAS’s had lined up Bob Howard for a round two performance. Before he could say anything Bob continued, Maybe we’ll see each other tomorrow. Bob looked back at the five pledges, all of whom were grinning from ear to ear. One of them jerked his head sharply toward the parking lot and a car that had just pulled into the space reserved for the fraternity’s Number One. The president of the KAS’s turned off the ignition of the bright red Mustang and gallantly came around to the passenger door. With a great flourish he opened the door and lowered his left hand to help the slightly inebriated female occupant from the front seat. Her long, tanned legs were unsteady as she held on to the hand in a firm, five fingered grasp.

Chris watched the freshman walk toward the car while the five pledges laughed and elbowed each other. As Bob and the girl shook hands he turned away, more than slightly irritated at this unseen turn of events. Sigma Sigma had had another excellent Closed Rush held before registration and the beginning of classes. However, their prowess in Open Rush was of epic proportions. Because of the well planned, annual orchestration, they had consistently padded their pledge class with a large number of highly desirable incoming students that had chosen not to go through Closed Rush. Chris himself was a product of this part of the process. Totally unfamiliar with the Greek system he had opted not to leave his lucrative summer job at the steel mill a week early. He had pledged within a week of school’s beginning and had distinguished himself by not only having the highest grade point average in his pledge class but also playing on the varsity tennis team. His debate and forensic skills were well known to those attuned to campus life.

He had just walked past the Zeke house when he saw his friend, Tommy Hargrove, coming toward him. His normally jovial face had a look of confusion, accented by his outstretched muscular arms with palms up. The shrug of his shoulders left no doubt that he was as much at a loss as Chris. Why was Bob Howard not at the Sig house as he had promised? The answer was obvious to Chris and of great concern to Tommy.

Don’t worry about it. We have work to do, was all Chris said as he walked past his friend with arms still outstretched.

Tommy had known him for a year, double dated numerous times and was still amazed how his friend could shift gears spontaneously, facing a new situation as if the previous one had never occurred. He marveled at how smoothly he joined the group of confused freshmen and transfer students, all clamoring for the same thing and not knowing what it was.

The last rushee was escorted out of the house shortly before eight-thirty, the doors locked, and the meeting began. Because it was not a formal chapter meeting, the usual opening rituals were dispensed with. There was another and more important reason for getting right down to business; most of the actives had not seen their girlfriends in several weeks, if not months, and they needed adequate time to get reacquainted at the ball park before the girls’ dorm doors were locked at 10:30.

Chris looked up from the sofa where he was sitting with Tommy and his freshman year roommate, Jimmy Lawrence, and saw this year’s Rush Chairman in an animated discussion with the chapter’s Grand Master. ‘Oh, shit’ was all he could think when they both looked at him at the same time. The GM patted the Rush Chairman on his back and guided him to the front of the large chapter room and opened the meeting without ceremony or introductory comments, OK, brothers, let’s get down to business. Credos to our sophomore recon team. We had sixteen potential rushees here tonight. Most of them seem interested in going through rush. He looked at the Rush Chairman and said, Andy, you’re on. As I’ve already said, great job in Closed Rush. Now, let’s seal the deal."

The applause was enthusiastic when Andy Swangelt walked to the front of the room and shook the GM’s hand. Before beginning he stared at Chris briefly, then began. As brother GM said, I want to first thank our sophomores for the great job they did today. Looking directly at Chris, he continued, Of course, they had some unsolicited help. Tommy elbowed Chris and snickered. Jimmy smiled.

Fraternity rules dictated that only pledges could wear fraternity attire adorned with the fraternity’s Greek letters. John Allenby had been a pledge brother of Chris’, had made his grades but had been blackballed the maximum three times by the same sophomore active who had forced him to perform sexual favors.

Ignoring Tommy’s obvious chiding, the Rush Chairman jumped right into the meat of the evening’s meeting, the assessment of the sixteen young men who had accepted the invitation to the house and the one who did but had elected to go with a better offer.

The assessment was quick but thorough. The general consensus was that fourteen of the sixteen would probably go through Open Rush and each was assigned two bird dogs, who would become their best friends for a week and make sure they selected Sigma Sigma. Swangelt had intentionally ignored Chris throughout the process, still miffed about his having included his former pledge brother, John Allenby, in the Recon Mission without his approval. After the last of the sixteen was discussed, Swangelt paused then looked directly at Chris and said, Carter, would you care to tell us what happened with Bob Howard?

The silence in the room was deafening as everyone waited on Chris’ response. Tommy smiled to himself as he saw Chris intentionally wait to answer the question. He had witnessed this maneuver many times over and was always impressed at the effect it had. Well, Brother Swangelt, Chris began, then paused before he continued his response. It seems that the Rush Chairman for the Alphas was a little more resourceful. Andy’s look of confusion brought snickers from a half dozen actives who knew what Chris was referring to.

Before the befuddled Rush Chairman could say anything, Chris stood up slowly and with a great flourish said, I certainly do not condone the use of willing, warm and wet female flesh to coerce a poor innocent freshman male, totally consumed with raging hormones, into forgoing a previous commitment to meet the esteemed members of this august organization. However, I do applaud the ingenuity exemplified by this obvious attempt of securing what the KASs hope will be a long term commitment from a prize rushee. The sounds of everyone rising from their seats to exit and the ensuing laughter completely drowned out the words sputtering from Andy’s mouth, What the fuck is he talking about?

Chapter Three

Ashley impatiently looked at her watch for what she realized was probably the tenth time in the last five minutes. The president of her sorority, Lambda Chi Tau, had finally taken over the meeting from the long winded Alumni Advisor, who had no recognition of the fact that most of the girls could hardly wait to get away from the sorority house and into the arms of their current boyfriends before the mandatory 10:30 curfew at the girls’ dormitories.

She had seen Chris only twice since their return to the campus for the fall semester, and each time was in full daylight, between Greek commitments and in full view of the hordes of students going through the annual rituals of beginning the school academic year. Tonight would be the first time they would have together alone since they had parted the previous spring. Ashley smiled to herself as she heard the president invoke the standard ritual that closed formal sorority meetings.

She had spent a socially active but emotionally miserable summer in her hometown of Oklahoma City, dating frequently but thinking mainly of the torrid affair she had had with Chris and anticipating their being together as a couple when they both returned to the small campus nestled among stately pine trees and massive azaleas.

When the gavel struck for the third time, she rushed to the door and maneuvered her way through the parked cars lining Woodlawn Street, up the hill beside the Magale Library, and past the cafeteria on her right. Ahead she saw the three girls’ dorms, all with doors open as their residents flowed inside in a steady stream. Ashley walked briskly past Sexton Dorm, waving to one of the Lambs’ new pledges, and bounded up the steps that led to the large double doors at the entrance to James Dorm. She smiled when she saw a couple discretely positioned behind one of the massive white columns adorning the wide expanse of the porch. Even though it was late summer twilight their passionate kisses and embraces could be seen by anyone really interested.

She nearly ran into Chris, who was standing just to the right of the check-in desk. I am so sorry! she exclaimed, emphasizing her frustration at being late with an exaggerated rolling of her blue eyes. Had to endure one of our alums going on and on about how it was our responsibility to train our new pledges to be lady-like in all respects. She stressed the word, all, and smiled sheepishly. The covert meaning was not lost on Chris nor did it do anything but increase the rumblings in his intestines. Brushing her shoulder length hair out of her face she went on, Hang loose right here. I just need to freshen up. Won’t take but a few minutes. She was through the swinging doors that led to her room before Chris could say anything.

Once in her room that she shared with another Lamb, she stepped out of her flats and quickly shed the dress that she had been required to wear to the sorority house. She pulled on a new pair of blue madras shorts and a solid blue sleeveless blouse that fit snugly over her breasts cradled in a white bra. She had anticipated this evening throughout the unusually hot summer and was still torn about her plan. As was evidenced by her racing heart, there was a physical side that wanted him desperately. Then there was the rational side that had superseded her emotions, her mother’s repeated admonitions about giving too much to a suitor before a meaningful commitment.

After a prolonged look in the mirror, she smiled and went quickly to the restroom she shared with the three other residents in the suite, all Lambs. While brushing her teeth with her right hand she was ejecting just enough Shalimar on both sides of her neck. After a quick rinse and a little longer gargle of mouthwash, Ashley made one final inspection and was certain she was totally primed for an evening that would lead to her ultimate goal.

When she came through the swinging doors, Chris was visiting with his new roommate, John Allenby. As she walked toward them she could see that Chris was doing all the talking, and John was definitely the listener, nodding his head repeatedly at whatever Chris was saying. As Ashley got closer Chris held up his right forefinger, signaling that she should wait a moment, and whispered something in his friend’s ear. After a quick slap on his back, John Allenby walked out the front doors with a determined look on his face.

Hey, good looking! Ashley beamed at him as she covered the few feet between them in an almost single bound. Not caring whether the Dorm Mother was watching, she embraced Chris tightly and kissed him, a kiss he broke off first. Whoa, Nellie! Come on. Let me show you my new wheels. Ashley pretended to be upset then quickly grabbed his left arm and said, Sorry! Just kinda missed you. Where’s the Love Wagon parked?

Chris laughed at the more than obvious insinuation and walked her down the steps and to the parking area just in front of the large outdoor amphitheater. It’s not much, but it’s better than not having a car. In front of where they stopped was a dingy blue, Ford station wagon with a dent in the back passenger side fender that had been hammered out by Chris’ father the day before he had left Houston. He opened the front door and sheepishly took Ashley’s arm to help her into the front seat. Sensing his anxiety, she exclaimed, Chris, this is fantastic! No more double dating with Tommy! She couldn’t help but add, Or, having someone drive one here for you to go out in, a caddy reference to when Jenny’s parents would let her have one of their cars when she would spend the weekend on campus. The beautiful high school senior, now a freshman at nearby Louisiana Tech, had become quite a fixture on campus, and in Ashley’s mind was the reason she couldn’t get Chris to commit to their relationship.

When Chris got in the driver’s side, Ashley was leaning over and surveying the rear bench seat and the expanse behind. Pretty roomy, she uttered with a smile on her face. As Chris was starting the car she slid across the cloth covered seat and snuggled up close to him, nestling her head just inside his right shoulder.

It lets down. Thoroughly confused, Ashley leaned up and gave him a quizzical look. The back seat; it lets down. You know, collapses so you have a larger area for hauling things. Without skipping a beat, Ashley responded, Or spreading out the things you’re hauling. It took a moment for the innuendo to sink in. When it finally registered with him, Chris just laughed and shook his head.

As they were heading to the ball park Chris asked, Want something to drink? Shaking her head she said only two words, Just you.

Hoping that alcohol would take away the queasiness, he said, Let me just make a quick stop. Think I could use something to combat this ungodly heat. Chris pulled into the convenience store located just off campus, left the car going while he ran inside, and pulled a six pack of Schlitz out of the cooler. As he was paying the owner, he noticed a distinctive smile spread his thin lips. Looking first outside at Ashley mouthing some song coming from the radio then over his shoulder at the restroom, he said, Need any change tonight? Although never verbalized, the two had shared an ongoing joke the previous spring semester when Chris had made numerous trips to the restroom to deposit quarters in the padlocked machine on the wall.

Naw, I’m good. Thanks any way. He heard the owner’s voice as he exited through the door, Have a good time!

In the two-minute drive from the convenience store to the Centenary ball park, he and Ashley had consumed most of the single bottle of beer she had opened as soon as Chris had closed the door. As they took the left turn off Kings Highway and another quick left past the one story office building, they could hear the sounds of the night flowing into the car through the open windows. The nocturnal chirping of crickets and a few birds looking for a resting place for the night were soon replaced, first by the strident sound of Wilson Pickett that soon merged with a leftover hit of The Beach Boys. Of the dozen or so cars parked in a single line looking out over the ball field, all had their windows down in the ninety degree temperature.

Ashley was confused when Chris slowed the car to a crawl. Glancing at him she started to say something but noticed the intensity on his face, his eyes carefully scanning the row of vehicles spread out before them. As suddenly as the car had slowed, it accelerated toward the far end of the row and pulled into the only vacant space available. In the darkness she didn’t notice that the last spot was occupied by a red Ford Mustang.

Fearful of running down the battery, Chris turned off the ignition, leaned over Ashley to take another bottle of beer from the carton, and turned toward her with his back against the driver’s door. So, tell me about your summer. His anxiety was ebbing, partly because of the quick infusion of alcohol and partly because he had come to a well thought-out decision. He enjoyed her company. She was vivacious, pretty, and bright, and they had given immense pleasure to each other over a short two month span the previous spring. What had nagged his consciousness over the long summer was his indirect commitment to her that they would be a couple when they returned to campus. His letters to her had been infrequent and were more a rendering of the misery he endured in his summer job at Armco Steel Mill than any real expression of affection. Hers were more frequent and included numerous references to all that they would do in the fall, together.

His question and the posture from which it was delivered more than slightly derailed her plans. The campus was abuzz with the