Warren continued, "You don't spend a lot of time with Soph and me. We're at her house more often, because it's more convenient. It's love. Yeah, it mi...ht be fourteen-year-old love, but it doesn't seem it. And the only way I'm going to know for sure is to not be fourteen anymore and see where we're at then."Peg smiled and sighed at the same time. "Warren, you're one of the most levelheaded teenagers I know-and I teach teenagers, remember-but you're also an incurable romantic." They both smiled.. She had already skipped a grade in school and we were considering placing her in one of those accelerated programs that kept gifted kids interested in the content off the material they were studying at school. Fortunately, we lived in a community and a State that appreciated the benefit of supported education for the residents with “gifted” offspring regardless of the National pressure to “dumb” kids down to supposedly “leave no child behind”.Sometimes, I felt that I was responding to her. It is time. It is time. ‘Tick tock goes the clock.’ she thinks. Her mind swirls with a million memories, a thousand opening nights, a thousand entrances, but never like this. Not like this. She turns to face her audience. This is such a special night. This is a gala night. A command performance. No tickets. No posters. No critic will write this up in tomorrow’s paper. This is her night, hers. Her audience. Four chairs face her. Four empty chairs. These are her audience, here by invitation.. It was him. I hesitated. What happens if I answer that door? He knows I’m here. I have to answer. I opened the door a jar and we stared at one another for a second. Damn, he was even better looking up close. He was tall, much taller than Micah. And he had to be pushing 40. His jet black hair was wet from the rain and pushed to one side. His jaw line was rugged with stubble and his beautiful eyes gazed at me, dark brown. The side of his mouth began to curl up confidently. “Hey,” he said,.