“Dr. Monroe,” she corrected. “We could split the research and the writing. I’ve already obtained the president’s approval for a small survey. All we have is a month to get this done, but we’ve got spring break to kick off our project with a bang.”

He nodded slowly, not willing to jump in, but willing to listen. “What is our topic of research?”

Blushing, she added, “Redefining sexual attractions in today’s world.”

Benjamin straightened slightly.

Miss Clark giggled. “We could call it, ‘The Chemistry of Mating.’”

He swallowed hard as she turned and bounced out of the room.

For a few moments, Benjamin forgot to breathe. Calamity had blown in on a tornado with red hair.

The only good news. Spring break wasn’t going to be boring.

Chapter 2 - Ketch

Chapter 2

Ketch

When his Friday night class ended, Ketch Kincaid marched down the sleeping streets of Clifton in fast military steps. Peaceful shadows rested between houses and the melody of a spring night did nothing to calm him as he stormed toward what the locals called Low Street.

As he neared neon blinking lights, his surroundings darkened with caution and the melody of the night changed to a raging heartbeat. Trash rattled in the roughly paved street, echoing the rush of water from the river a few hundred yards away. This was a street, he thought, where dreams go to die, and his just had taken their last breath.

The barn-of-a-bar that backed against old train tracks wasn’t much to look at in daylight. Now, lit only by a sliver of moon, the COME ON IN, PARTNER sign seemed more an order than an invitation.

A hungry wind suddenly howled through the valley. The old bar seemed morose, as if the building was rotting from the inside out.

Just the kind of place Ketch was looking for.

His worn steel-toed boots throbbed against the plank sidewalk like a ragging heartbeat as he rushed toward his own personal implosion.

After fighting his way through the army for four years and then working two jobs while taking a full load in college for the past three years, tonight his world was crumbling.

Every dream, every plan, every goal was crashing around him, dissolving into rubble.

Thanks to one letter.

Crystal had broken up with him from half a world away with one page.

The six-year-old version of him standing outside his third foster home with all his possessions in a trash bag flashed through Ketch’s mind. He was the kid no one wanted. The soldier who made enemies because he pushed too hard. The student a few years too old to fit in at college.

“Alone Again” would be the theme song of his life, if he had one.