Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Wednesday was going to be one of those 'parent-teacher' open house events.
I called Jim.

   "Sure, you OUGHT to go," he said.  "You're interested.  The science
teacher knows you.  And Cindy's YOUR responsibility.  I'll be there. 
Ann'll be there.  And YOU should be."

   "Okay, ' I said.  "Work clothes okay, or should I wear a suit?"

   Jim laughed.  "I've seen what you work in, buddy.  You're gonna be at
the upper third of the scale."

   Cindy was watching me as Jim and I talked.  "Told ya," she snickered.

   "We'll be there, then," I said.

   "Good!  Why don't ya'll come over for dinner before we go?" Jim asked.

   "You want pizza?" I countered.

   "Oh, gosh, no," he answered.  "Ann's got stuff in the freezer.  Lasagna
might be nice, don't'cha think?"

   "Lasagna tomorrow at the Hardesty's?" I asked Cindy.

   Her red hair bounced as she nodded in the affirmative.

   "We'll be there," I said.

   Tuesday and Wednesday passed without incident.  I knew that the day was
soon coming when we'd have to fire up the two gas turbines and put steam on
the steam turbine, and for the first time, my generators would have to
actually make electricity, but that wasn't on the agenda just yet.

   So Wednesday after work, I collected a little redheaded cutie and hauled
her off to dinner with our friends.  After dinner, we traveled to the
middle school in separate vehicles and walked in together.  Jim took off to
perform his functions as school guidance counselor and Ann did the same as
music teacher.  Teresa went with Ann.

   I let Cindy guide me around.  Her science teacher was somebody' I'd met
previously, having guided him and his 'honors' class on a tour of the
construction site.

   "Hey, Mr.  Hollis," I said, shaking his hand.

   "Hello, Mr.  Richards.  Good seeing you again.  How's the project?"
Hollis said.

   "A few weeks from going on line," I said.  "Two hundred or so
megawatts."

   "Sounds like fun," he said.

   "Has been.  Did Cindy tell you about programming the control system?"

   "She mentioned it," he said.  "Like she understood what she was doing."

   "Impressed the instrumentation engineer," I said.  "He wanted to hire
her."

   "I bet," Hollis said.  "She's definitely in a class of her own."

   "That's our Cindy," I said.

   "Yeah ...  when she popped up with a wedding band, it was a bit hard for
a lot of people to swallow," he admitted.  "But she sure doesn't fit the
whole 'abused little girl' thing."

   "I know," I said.  "But I can understand how it looks to some folks. 
But she's unique."

   "Yeah," he said.  "But it was the talk of the teacher's lounge for a
while."

   Another mom and dad walked up so Cindy pulled me up the hall to talk
with her English teacher.  The English teacher called the Social Studies
teacher over and we talked about Cindy's participation in the Social
Studies Fair, a month in the future.

   "Her work?" one of the two asked.  Mrs.  Greenlee was her Social Studies
teacher.

   "Hundred percent," I said.  "How's she sound in class?"

   "Like it's no surprise that she'd come up with something like that," the
other said.  "Precocious is one thing.  Having brains behind it is
another." That was Mrs.  Turbermann, her English teacher.

   She glanced at the wedding band on my ring finger.  Her face clouded. 
She glanced around to see who was in the vicinity.  Just me, Cindy, and her
fellow teacher.  Her voice lowered.  "That marriage thing, though..."

   Cindy chimed in, "Mizz Turbermann, Dan's an engineer, and you should see
him in HIS element.  He works like YOU, because he loves what he's doing.
It's a good quality.  He's a teacher to me.  That's another good quality.
He showed me that there is life outside of where I came from.  And you KNOW
where I came from.  Everybody kinda knew about Mom.  And..."

   Mrs.  Turbermann spoke, "Fourteen years old..."

   "Mizz Turbermann, does Cindy do ANYTHING like a standard fourteen year
old?  Really?" I asked gently.

   "Mister Richards, you have to admit..." Mrs.  Greenlee started.

   "That she's a unique creature in a situation where everybody is put off
balance by her..." I looked at Cindy.  She was smiling, green eyes calm,
which was more than I could say for the heart thrashing in my chest.  I
continued, "and I found myself falling for her and killing myself because
she WAS only fourteen.  That she and I decided to marry is still astounding
to me.  But we ARE married."

   Cindy coolly added, "Mizz Greenlee, how many pregnant girls in school
this year?

   "Fourteen," admitted Mrs.  Greenlee.

   Cindy put on a disarming smile.  "I'm NOT!  And I AM married. 
Completely and totally devoted to HIM and he is to ME."

   "And all I want to do is watch her climb to the stars.  Like you do," I
said.  "Good teachers want that."

   Mrs.  Turbermann sighed.  "She IS a pleasure to work with.  Not that she
needs much work..."

   "You see her in the classroom.  I wish you could've seen her Monday
working with one of the other engineers out at my job," I said.  "She
impresses people out there, too."

   Cindy smiled.  "Learning.  And doing things with it, that's fun!"

   Next stop up the hall was the math teacher.  Cindy did the introduction.
"This is Mizz Crockett, my math teacher.  Mizz Crockett, this is my
husband, Dan Richards."

   "You're the one responsible for HER?" Mrs.  Crockett smiled.  "I haven't
taught her a thing since September.  She's my assistant."

   "I told her to make herself useful," I said.

   "She has," the teacher said.  "She makes ME able to do a better job."

   Cindy stood close to me, holding my hand, smiling.

   We waved at Jim as he navigated up the hall past us.

   Cindy wanted to show me the library, and we found it almost deserted. 
And that's where the skirmish took place.  I mean, every place you looked
you saw kids holding mom or dad's hand.  Well at least a few.  You know how
many teens want the world to believe they're just too cool to associate too
closely with parents.  You'd think that Cindy holding MY hand wouldn't be
any more significant than that, despite the fact that I wasn't Mom or Dad,
or in a few cases, grandparent.  But we were husband and wife, a fact
almost universally known.

   And apparently not universally accepted.

   We walked into the library, smiling and holding hands.  Cindy started to
introduce us: "This is Mizz Chambers, our librarian, and this is Dan
Richards, my husb..."

   "I KNOW what he is," Mrs.  Chambers said through tight lips.

   "Excuse me?!?" I said.  "I'm her husband.  Engineer."

   "I think you KNOW what I mean," she said.

   "I'm not sure I do, Mizz Chambers."

   She eyed Cindy.  "You think that takin' a fourteen year old for a
wife..."

   "Oh, I see where you're heading.  Let's get something straight up front.
I didn't "take" Cindy.  We agreed.  She had a horrible life up until last
August, and her mom left her with a nice person who became her guardian.  I
was just her friend, nothing more.  She wanted a tutor.  I can do that.  We
found out pretty quick that she's NOT your standard fourteen year old.  But
SHE makes her own choices."

   "She's FOURTEEN.  That's too young to make those choices." Mrs. 
Chambers hissed.

   "Mizz Chambers," I said, fighting to maintain composure, "I know people
who are FORTY that aren't mentally prepared to make those choices.  I'm
sure YOU do, too.  Age is simply ONE factor."

   "It's just immoral," she said.  "Wrong."

   "Mizz Chambers," I said, "do you read your Bible?"

   "I certainly do," she sniffed.  "What's that got to do with THIS?"

   "Oh, I dunno ...  You know the story of David?  You know, killed
Goliath. Wrote the Psalms.  King of Israel.  That guy?"

   "OF course," she said.

   "What's the name of his last wife?" I asked.

   "I don't remember."

   She was backpedalling now.  I kept on.  "I remember.  It was a young
lady named Abishag.  He was old.  She was very young.  You want more of the
story?"

   She glared at me, silent.

   "Let me tell you, then.  She joined him in his old age, and the bible
says "he knew her not".  Mizz Chambers, there are many reasons why people
get married.  Two people giving companionship and comfort to one another is
as good as any."

   She caught her breath.  "You're saying that you and Cindy..."

   "I'm saying nothing.  We're MARRIED.  I can show you the papers.  And
what we do inside that marriage is OUR business.  On the outside, to anyone
who cares, we are a couple.  You know Cindy.  You know why she doesn't
spend much time in the library some days, right?  Why's that?"

   She sniffed and admitted, "She tutors other kids..."

   "Has Cindy ever gotten into trouble in this school?  Any unseemly
behavior?  I mean, her being a married woman and what, 'knowledgeable in
the ways of the world', and all that..." I was on a roll.  This was MY
Cindy we were talking about here.

   "No.  I don't believe she has."

   "Has she ever flaunted her status, married OR academic?"

   "No.  she hasn't.  But she ...  Shot..."

   "I'm sorry, Mizz Chambers, but perhaps you'd prefer that she be found
molested and dead instead of what happened?"

   "I didn't say that," she said.

   "Then what DO you say?  Please, I'm trying to understand.  You have this
particular little redheaded girl who's an outstanding student and by your
admission, a pretty decent human being, and YOU'RE upset that she's
MARRIED?" I took a deep breath.  Time to trot out a statistic.  "Mizz
Chambers, how many pregnant girls in school this year?"

   Nailed her.  "Nine or ten, I think..." she said.

   "I heard fourteen.  Babies up for adoption.  Or raised by mom's who're
still kids themselves.  Or by grandparents who apparently weren't doing too
good a job of raising kids themselves." I looked at Cindy, her face
neutral. "Cindy, are you pregnant, sweetness?"

   Cindy's red hair splayed out as she shook her head.  "Nope.  No, ma'am."

   Time to soften up.  "Mizz Chambers, I appreciate you being concerned
about these kids.  Somebody needs to be concerned.  But please, save your
energy for some of the others.  They need help, for sure.  Cindy's doing
just fine."

   "B-but..." Mrs.  Chambers stuttered.

   "Mizz Chambers," Cindy said softly, "I appreciate you caring enough to
say something.  But we're okay.  Really!"

   Mrs.  Chambers straightened up and drew a deep breath.  "It's just VERY
discomforting, Mr.  Richards."

   "I can imagine," I said.  "Jim Hardesty's our best friend, him and Mizz
Ann.  Can you imagine how hard it was for us to break the news to him? 
Liked to've killed me.  One doesn't like to lose good friends." I put my
best 'come on over to MY side' smile on.  "Now, can we say we're past
this?"

   She didn't look all that convinced, but she said, "Yes.  I suppose."

   "Now," I said, "how much fun is it running a school library?"

   I was asking about HER world, and her eyes softened.  "It's gotten so
different, Mr.  Richards..."

   "Please, I'm Dan," I smiled.

   "Yes.  Certainly.  Dan.  They can find so much stuff on line, it makes
my reference section seem archaic."

   "Ah, yes, all the Google and Wikipedia answers," I said.

   "Don't get me wrong," she said, "I wish it was like that when I was in
school..." Mrs.  Chambers was probably mid-fifties.  "But I'm trying to
keep this place relevant, and kids have no attention spans any more..."

   "Cindy?" I asked.

   "I'm researching my project.  I enjoy going through the real books, but
the latest data..."

   "See?" Mrs.  Chambers said, "And SHE is actually working the system..."

   Finally we bid good-bye to the librarian and walked back up the hall,
running into Jim and the Principal.

   I breathed a sigh of relief.

   Cindy did her smile.  "Hi, Mister Bresser.  Hi Mister Jim!"

   "Hi, folks," I said.

   "Well, what'd'you think of our school now, Mister Richards?" Bresser
asked.

   "I'm sorry this is the first time I got to walk around and talk to
people," I apologized.  "You got some good folks."

   "Mostly," he said.  He looked at Cindy.  "I wish we could keep Cindy. 
She's an addition to the staff more than she is a student.  And she's the
first one I've had graduate from high school out of the eighth grade, too."

   Cindy grinned.

   Another family walked up.  The apparent dad was dressed in suit and tie
and the mom was in a two-piece business dress.  Maintaining a carefully
measured detachment distance was a blonde teen a couple of inches taller
and twenty pounds heavier than Cindy.

   Cindy recognized her.  "Hi, Kaylee!  Dan, this is Kaylee.  We have
classes together.  Kaylee, this is Dan.  My husband."

   That statement left me pondering exactly how it DID sound to other
people.

   Kaylee smiled, not too big, but a smile, still.  "Hi, Mister Dan!" she
motioned to her parents.  Mom and Dad, this is Cindy.  The one I told you
about!  She's been helping me in math class.  And this is her husband,
Mister Dan."

   The daddy stepped forward, hand extended.  "When I'm not Dad, I'm Don
Spears.  And mom here is my wife Barbara."

   We shook hands.  "I'm Dan Richards.  Engineer on that new powerplant on
the other side of town."

   "Great," Don smiled.  "I'm an attorney.  Barb's a bank manager.  You
two've been subject of some discussion, you know."

   'Here we go again, ' I thought.  I said, "I can only imagine." And I did
a subdued smile.  Trying NOT to look like the cat that ate the canary, all
five feet two inches of her.

   "Even in Alabama fourteen year old brides are rare," Barb said.

   Thankfully Jim stepped in.  "And so are fourteen year old high school
grads.  Cindy's rather unique."

   "D'ya hear that," Kaylee said, elbowing Cindy, "You're unique!"

   "On top of everything else," Cindy said, feigning disappointment.

   "Mommmm!  I TOLD you Cindy's the reason I get A's in math.  She's MY
friend."

   I caught Cindy's expression.  Satisfaction.

   The two girls stood side by side, a sweet-looking pair.

   Jim whispered to Don, "IQ measures on the Richter Scale.  Never saw one
before.  May never see one again.  But there she is..."

   I folded my arms.  "Jim!  Shhhhh!  Her head'll swell..."

   Barb and Don looked at him, then me.  Jim said, "That's the GOOD part.
That HASN'T happened."

   Don said, "Honestly?  Kaylee was asking me an' Barb for help on the math
thing, and I couldn't do that any more, and Barb..."

   "I MANAGE a bank.  I don't do those problems any more.  But I was
trying. And then it stopped.  Don an' I waited.  We expected our precious
daughter to bring home a horrible report card, and she surprised us.  Said
Cindy was helping out in class and took time to help her."

   "That pleases me," I said.  "I was a nerd in school and I remember how
it was.  I didn't want her picked on, and I talked with her about using her
powers for good, not evil..."

   Don laughed.  "I'm afraid I wasn't that self-disciplined.  It's good
somebody is..."

   As we stood there talking, Cindy and Kaylee waved and chatted with
several other classmates, and I was introduced more times, shook dozens of
hands, and finally I saw Ann walking up the hall toward us.  The evening
was ending.

   Cindy and I were soon in the truck headed home.  As soon as her door
closed, she lept across the cab and kissed me, just a quick peck on the
lips.

   "Don't go doing something that's gonna get me lynched," I said.

   "Oh, yeah, you horrible thing, molestin' teens an' stuff..." She sat
back.  "I had no idea Mizz Chambers was that uptight about me."

   "Kind of surprised me, too, baby.  I wasn't' worried about me, I was
worried about you.  I don't want YOU suffering because of..."

   "Because I'm MARRIED to you?"

   "It's that 'fourteen-forty' thing, baby.  Some people just can't see
past it.  Some are young, some are older."

   "Sometimes I really just don't care," she said.  "Sometimes I just want
us to wrap up so tight together we'll never be apart again!"

   "Me too, cutie," I admitted.  "And aside from the times where we have to
be apart for work or school, we will never be apart.  And you were perfect
this evening."

   "I was biting my tongue hard with Mizz Chambers, you know..." she said.
"That's one thing you have over me, being older.  You've had time to
develop some people skills."

   "You're incredibly mature for your age, baby.  And you'll get better. 
Just remember that you don't get to take words back, so choose wisely. 
Very seldom is it useful to cut loose on somebody."

   "Would've felt good," she said, almost under her breath.

   "Yeah, and she'd've turned colors and felt completely justified in a
totally incorrect assessment of what the real situation is with us, what
with you being an out of control wild teen ruled by emotions and hormones,
right!"

   "Yeah," Cindy admitted.  "but I like colors, you know..."

   "Uh-huh.  But now you have to know that she's had her confidence in her
own assumptions shaken.  Best case is that she changes her mind
completely."

   Giggle.  "And Kaylee.  Did you see the look she gave you?"

   "Nooo," I admitted.  "I was too busy seeing if her mom and dad were
going to do a 'Mizz Chambers' on me."

   Giggle (again) "She said you were hot in a geeky sort of way..."

   "And you think that's funny?"

   "No, I think it's neat, though.  I mean, YOU push my buttons, guy.  But
Kaylee kind of affirmed that I was normal in that regard." She touched my
face with her fingertips.  "I know that other women look at you, you know,
older ones, but just the idea that somebody my age ...  well, it tickles
me."

   "I am glad you're amused that your friends think of me as a piece of
meat," I said.

   She didn't miss the sarcasm.  "Oh, little boy, if you want somebody to
treat you like a piece of meat, take me home..."

   "See," I laughed, "That's EXACTLY the kind of sexual exploitation that
people think about when they see us."

   "Nope.  They think YOU are exploiting poor little innocent ME." she
giggled again.

   "I think that being perfectly fair about this, we should exploit each
other."

   "Wrong again, love," she tittered.  "You need to exploit me at least
TWICE!" Her hand teased the crotch of my pants as she turned sideways in
her seat, holding onto my arm, her cheek on my bicep.

   "You're an amazingly wonderful thing, little girl," I said.

   "And I love you, Dan.  We belong together.  But you may not want me
after I take the ACT next week."

   "Is that next week?"

   "Yep," she said.  "Wednesday.  Mister Jim's gonna drive me to the high
school to take it."

   "And why would I not want you after that?" I asked.

   "If I don't score high enough, an' you find out you're married to a
plain ol' middle school kid..."

   "First, are you actually worried?"

   Smile.  "Not really."

   "Second," I said, "I fell in love with you when you were, as far as I
knew, a middle school kid.  That fact upsets some people, but I'm okay with
it.  And third, Little Miss Green-eyed Redhead, YOU will NEVER be 'plain'
anything.  You of elfin, magical visage.  And I would love you forever even
if you had to take off your shoes to count past ten."

   "And I'd love you if you were ...  what was that you said the other day?
'Tail gunner on a vacuum truck?'"

   "But I'm me and you're you, and life is pretty good right now..."

   We pulled alongside our little trailer and went inside.  Two showers.  A
pre-bed mug of hot cocoa, and let the exploitations begin.

   She was standing on the step to the sleeping area when I wrapped her in
my arms.  She backed into me, her ass wiggling deliciously.

   "Perfect," she purred.

   My hands slipped downward and then back up over her taut belly, stopping
to cup two perfectly small titties.  My fingertips tweaked her nipples
initiating a wiggle.

   "You're a perfect armful," I whispered.  From the subtle scent of
perfume on her sleek red hair, to the bottoms of her little feet, as far as
I was concerned, she was perfection.

   Her hands clasped my arms to her for a few seconds as we enjoyed the
contact from this position.  Then she dropped her hands to grasp the hem of
her nightshirt.  I let her go and she stripped the shirt over her head and
tossed it onto the nightstand at her corner of the bed.

   Naked, she pirouetted to face me, lacing her fingers behind my head,
pulling me down for a kiss, then she said, "Guy, you have WAAAY too much
clothing on..."

   "Easy fix," I said, stripping my own t-shirt over my head.  By the time
I got it off, I saw a perfect little ass crawling up on our bed.  I grasped
her hips and pulled her butt back to my face, burying my mouth into the
puffy pink lips of her pussy.

   She squealed with glee.  "Roll me over, baby!" she said breathlessly.

   I complied.  Her thighs spread, giving me a beautiful view of pink
nirvana, a feast for lips and tongue, and when I succumbed to that
temptation, her hands were on the back of my head encouraging me.  I
lapped, teased, nibbled and sucked happily at her juicy pussy, listening to
her breathing change as she approached climax.  I knew she was getting
close.

   Suddenly she tugged at my head.  "In me!" she commanded.  I bounced up
and penetrated her, the path generously slicked by her juices, and as I
started my second stroke, she went over the edge.  I kept stroking as she
slid straight from one climax to the next, her pelvis bucking up to take me
as deep inside her as we could manage, and her enthusiasm had me building
rapidly.  I kept on plunging as she whimpered, "Yes.  Go.  HARD.  One ...
More!"

   I was on the edge of losing control.  I felt her shove herself up on my
shaft and she said, "Unnnhhh!" and I splurted.  "YESSSSSS, BAAABY!!!!" She
squealed.  "I feeeeel it!"

   I felt it too as several wonderful surges racked my body.  On the verge
of total collapse I scooped her in my arms and rolled sideways onto my
back, ending up with her happy, breathless form on top of me.

   Her eyes fluttered open.  "Baby, I feel truly and solidly exploited
now..." Her red lips kissed mine.

   "Mmmmm," I said.  "Earthquake.  I think I lived through an earthquake."
I felt a soft wet plop as my softening dick fell out of its tight home. 
"Baby," I said, " can I..."

   Another kiss from red lips and she turned around.  We feasted on each
other.  I got cleaned up.  She got cleaned up.  And another little climax.
And sleep.

   Thursday we put the first eighty-megawatt turbine on its first spin. 
Successful completion of that task made the people I work for very happy.
Tomorrow we'd make some electricity.

   Made it to the weekend with another cold front dragging down from the
north.  Rain and wind kept us in the trailer Friday evening, but Saturday
was too much.  We hurried out the door through cold, nearly freezing
drizzle to get into the truck and then it was off to find a motel for the
weekend.  With an indoor pool.

   "I feel bad, baby," she said, lazily floating on her back.  "It's, like
thirty out there and I'm swimming..."

   I swam too, knowing that I'd end up with sore muscles from the effort,
but I needed to be careful or I'd turn out like one of my pudgy buddies. 
And with that little redhead slicing across the pool, I wanted all the
strength and stamina I could muster.

   We managed a pleasant dinner and a movie and a long, soaking, giggly
shower together.  Sunday was breakfast and back home.

   Monday and Tuesday were nominal at the job, and Cindy reported nothing
more than routine at the school.  Wednesday I left for work knowing that
she was going to go to school and Jim Hardesty was going to drive her to
the high school to take the ACT.

   This was one of the two hurdles she needed to jump to graduate at the
ripe old age of fourteen.

   ...

   Cindy knocked on the door of Jim Hardesty's office as soon as she got to
school.

   "Hi, Cindy," he said.  "are you ready?"

   "Yessir," she said.  "Let's do this."

   Jim grabbed his keys and shrugged into a windbreaker for the short walk
to his car, Cindy following dutifully behind him.  "Should still be warm,"
he said, unlocking the doors.  Cindy got in on the passenger side and
buckled in.

   The short trip to the high school was occupied with small talk: what was
going on between this student and that one, who was 'going with' who.

   "I just don't understand that," Cindy said.  "A girl an' a guy 'go
together' for two weeks an' they hold hands and sneak a kiss or somethin',
and then one of 'em decides to move on an' the other one is devastated for
who knows how long.  "I saw a girl crying on 'er desk Friday because her
boyfriend broke up with 'er."

   "It's all part of learning to build relationships, Cindy," Jim said.

   "Reminds me too much of my mom," she retorted.  "God, I'm glad that I
have Dan..."

   Jim laughed.  "You an' Dan make a great couple, Cindy.  Looks weird. 
But it works."

   "It does, Mister Jim.  I love 'im to pieces.  He's like my starship,
carryin' me out into the galaxy."

   "Never heard it put like that, but that's the way it's supposed to be:
two people making each other's lives richer."

   "Yessir," Cindy said.  "Some people never get there ...  sad..."

   Jim pulled his car into a visitor slot in the school parking lot and
together they walked into the school.  They signed in at the office and got
directions to the registration desk for the test.  Walking up the hall,
they were silent in the empty space, the sounds of classes in progress
seeping out from closed doors.

   The registration desk was manned by two teachers and a pair of students
shuffling papers.

   One of the teachers looked up.  "Hello, Jim," she said.  "How are you?"

   "Great," Jim answered.  "Ya'll should have Miss Cindy Richards on the
list for the test today."

   She looked at the computer in front of her.  "Yes we do.  Wow, Miss
Cindy.  Fourteen.  Are you the one I heard about at the school board?"

   Cindy smiled.  "You might've heard a lot of things about me, ma'am. 
Some of them are pretty good."

   The teacher smiled.  Her associate was listening now.  "It's the part
that says Cindy Richards graduates from high school if she scores well on
the ACT and the high school exit exam."

   Cindy grinned.  "That's one of the good ones."

   Cindy was processed and ushered into a classroom filling with high
school students.  The teacher who spoke with Cindy at registration pointed
out a desk and then talked with the teacher who was proctoring the tests.
The proctor looked at Cindy and smiled.

   The girl in the desk next to Cindy leaned over.  "I don't know you.  Do
you go to this school?"

   "No," Cindy answered.

   "Are you one a'them homeschoolers?" the girl asked.  "You look young. 
How old are you?"

   "Fourteen," Cindy admitted.  "I go to the county middle school.  By the
way, I'm Cindy Richards."

   "I'm Kaitlyn Fuller," the girl said.  "Why're ya even takin' this test?"

   Cindy sighed.  "If I do good on this, I take the high school exit exam,
and I graduate this year."

   "No JOKE?!?!?" Kaitlyn said.  "That's un-freakin'-real!" She glanced at
Cindy's left hand.  On Cindy's ring finger was a simple gold band.  "Is
that a wedding band?"

   "Yes, ' Cindy answered simply.  "I've been married since last
Thanksgiving."

   "Why?  Were you..."

   "Pregnant?  No.  In love?  Yes.  Still am.  Always will be." Cindy
smiled.  "S'wonderful!"

   The boy in the seat behind her had been listening.  "Wai-wai-wait!  Do
you, like, live in that trailer park over off the main highway?"

   "Yes," Cindy said.

   "You're the one ...  that guy broke in ...  shotgun..."

   "Oh, for heaven's sake," Cindy said.  "Let's not talk about that, okay?"

   "It WAS you!" he said, rather loudly.

   "If I could have your attention, please!" the proctor said in a loud
voice.  "We have a full day ahead of us.  I don't have to remind you of how
serious this test is for those of you who are planning college careers, so
let's get our heads on straight now."

   The testing started.  The room was almost silent except for sighs and
breathing sounds.  After the first two segments were completed, the proctor
turned the room loose for a break.

   Kaitlyn rounded up Cindy when she stood up.  "C'mon, Cindy.  Let's go
drink a coke."

   Walking down the hall, Kaitlyn asked, "So you're married.  Your
husband's in school?"

   Cindy smiled, thinking about Dan at work.  He'd told her what his day
was supposed to be, putting the new steam turbine on turning gear for its
initial heating, not an electrical function except for the motor that did
the turning.  Dan was excited.

   "No, he's the chief electrical engineer at that new powerplant." When I
get out of high school, I'm going to college for engineering myself.  So I
can be like him.  With him."

   "You, like, married an OLD guy?" Kaitlyn was incredulous.

   Cindy snickered.  "Was I s'posed to marry some young guy?  No job.  No
future?"

   "B-but ...  you didn't have to get married..." kaitlyn said.

   Cindy sighed.  "I don't know how to explain it.  I met 'im.  He was nice
to me, treated me like I was worth something, became my friend, somebody I
could depend on, he encouraged me, helped me with school stuff when I
needed it.  And I fell in love with 'im."

   "Wow!" Kaitlyn said.  "But an old guy?  What'd'ya have in common?"
Kaitlyn started rifling through her purse for change for the drink machine.

   Cindy reached in hers and pulled out a handful of quarters.  "Here!"

   Kaitlyn handed her a coke.

   "Now, what do I have in common with Dan ...  Music.  We both love
classical music, and I didn't know THAT until I started hanging around him.
Flying.  He's got a plane, and we fly places, and I get to fly it.  We play
music with another family.  He plays bass and lead guitar, and I sing, you
know, bluegrass stuff.  We swim.  We bicycle.  We go exploring..."

   "Wow," Kaitlyn said.  "That shotgun thing that Jason said..."

   "Dan told me that if I was going to be responsible for my safety, I
needed to learn how to shoot.  I thought it was fun to learn.  It IS fun.
But one night it was serious.  But that's us, Kaitlyn.  We make each OTHER
better." Cindy glanced at her watch.  "Better start heading back, huh?"

   "Ughhh!  The tests..." Kaitlyn groaned.  "So how're you doin' so far? 
How many questions did you have left?"

   "Left?" Cindy said, surprised.  "I finished.  I went back and checked on
some..."

   "Oh, no, ' Kaitlyn whined.  "I didn't finish.  I thought NOBODY
finished."

   "That's what they said," Cindy mused.  "So you're prob'ly doin' okay,
you know..."

   "Oh, gosh, I hope so.  Mom an' Dad'd just DIE ...  they want me to go to
college sooo bad..."

   Back in the class room, the tests started back up.  A quarter past
twelve, the booklets were turned in and Cindy and Kaitlyn walked out
together.  Jim was waiting.

   "Hi, Mister Jim," Cindy said.  "This is my new friend, Kaitlyn. 
Kaitlyn, this is Mister Jim Hardesty, our school's guidance counselor and
the banjo and guitar player for our band."

   "Hi, Mister Jim," Kaitlyn said.

   "Hi, Kaitlyn.  How'd you two do on the test?" Jim asked.

   Kaitlyn rolled her eyes.  "Cindy finished and went back an' checked her
work.  I had questions left over."

   "Kaitlyn, that's normal.  Cindy's, well, she's Cindy.  She goes around
astounding people."

   "I see that.  We've been talkin'," Kaitlyn said.  "Cindy!  You have my
phone number.  Call me.  I liked talkin' to you..."

   "Okay, Kaitlyn," Cindy chirped.  "See ya around!"

   Walking out to the car, Jim looked at Cindy.  "You finished?"
   "Yessir," Cindy said.  "I feel pretty good about it..."