THOSE GOOD TEEN YEARS 3 CRUSHES NO MORE

Chapter Two: Ultimatum

Peter winced as the blade made a cut on his lower jaw.

Cursing as he washed the tiny cut and applying the healing cream Ali had given him, he thought about the cons of shaving. Seriously, it wasn't cool. The painful task-painful because he had not quite mastered the art-was time consuming and frustrating.

He had only begun during the summer, when Adeline joked on Skype about the small hair coming on his chin. He had told his dad. Normally, teens were embarrassed by their parents, and Peter wasn't any different, yet he went to his dad because...well, he was a guy. And his dad was into beard grooming and had a nice French beard. So Peter figured his dad was the man.

His dad had told him how to do it, while also trying to convince him to keep a beard, which Peter thought was a ghastly idea. How his mom had fallen for his dad, he had no idea. His dad's argument, on the other hand, was that his mom had fallen for him because of the beard, and hence, the beard was popular with the ladies. What a load of bullshit. Peter very well knew that girls were attracted to both his dad and him because of his eyes, which were a sea green. His dad told tall tales.

The first time, his cheek had been full of nicks and cuts. Luke had taken a look at him and laughed, and so had Lincoln. Sienna had smiled and said he looked good (she was sweet, but seriously, he knew he looked amazing) and Emma had given him a thumbs up. The only useful person had been Ali, who aspired to be a doctor, had given him the cream. It had been pretty amazing.

Now gradually, the cuts had been decreasing. Then came the day when he didn't make a single cut. His dad had celebrated by making his prize double sundae (it was really hard to get his dad to make it anytime, so that had been a golden moment). After that, if he really concentrated, he didn't make any cut.

But now he wasn't concentrating, because his thoughts, as usual, had been tuned to Emma.

From a cordial relationship it had gone back to a friendly one, like the one they used to have in seventh grade. Sometimes, things got a little intense, like staring into one another's eyes too long etc. Flirting with her was damn easy, and he loved seeing her fluster and fumble whenever he got too close.

Finishing up his men care task for the day, he looked at himself in the mirror. He ran his hand through his damp hair, making it a sexy kind of messed up look (he wasn't intending to do that; it was his usual style). He pulled over a black T-shirt over his head and pulled on blue jeans. Then he saw the weather outside. Since the heavy downpour on Saturday (that had continued until Sunday evening), the temperature had gone down a few degrees. A breeze was blowing, and he put his hand out to check. Hmm. A little cool. He decided to wear a thin black windbreaker just in case. He didn't want to fall down ill.

Putting on his canvas shoes and grabbing his skateboard, he went downstairs. His mom had the radio tuned onto old 80's music (which was bad). He went in to the kitchen to give her a kiss and wish her goodbye before he left for school. His mom insisted that he at least have the bacon sandwich, which he grudgingly took but started gulping after the first bite. They were delicious. Damn, how did his mom make food so yum?

At the door, he yelled, 'Good bye, Dad!' And didn't wait for a response. His dad would be snoring away.

With the sandwich in one hand, he put the skateboard on the ground and pushed. He loved skating. It was really cool. He made his way down the road and stopped at his destination.

Emma's home. He was supposed to walk with her to school. She was supposed to be waiting outside. Instead, he heard yells and shouts inside, a screaming match only siblings could have.

"You annoying jerk, give it back to me! Mom, tell Lance to give me back my notebook!"

"I won't until you apologize! Mom, she called me a dim wit!"