Susan Howard, fifteen years old and in the process of growing into a beautiful young woman, stared woodenly at the tabletop. Her face was swollen and ...ruised. She wore a cast on her left arm. She flinched whenever she moved as a result of injuries to her ribs. It was easy to see that her spirit had been severely damaged as a result of the beating she had received a week earlier. She shrank into the corner of the booth trying to avoid being noticed.The attractive woman sitting across from Susan. A couple of hippie wristbands and a shark-tooth necklace figured him as the full surfer type that his long hair could only confirm. His nose had a slight crook in it where it must have previously been broken, but was still symmetrical enough to be carved out of the same stone as the stubbled jaw that housed a pair of full, succulent lips.His face turned back to her, as if he had just cottoned on to her stare. His eyes were bright, full of life, and caught hers like reflector dishes.Beautiful,. More

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