Flashback One
September 1992
Fifteen-year-old Rig Johnson walked into his first-period history class on the first day of high school. He was cool and confident, expecting to have a great first day. I mean, why wouldn't he? He was one of the most popular boys throughout middle school. The fact that this was a completely different school in a completely different town in a completely different state didn't bother him in the slightest. He was a well-rounded boy who excelled at dealing with change. He had just taken his seat at an empty desk towards the back of the room when he was immediately accosted by another boy.
"Hey," the boy said, slamming his backpack down on Rig's desk in front of him. "This's my seat."
Rig was unperturbed. He offered the boy a polite greeting. "I'm Rig Johnson," he said, sticking out his hand.
The boy slapped at his hand but Rig moved it out of the way before it could make contact. "I don't care if you're the Pope. You're in my seat," the boy said again. Rig began to look around the seat, under the desk, behind the chair. "What are you looking for?" the boy asked, snickering.
"I'm looking for a name," Rig replied. "If it is your seat, then your name should be on it somewhere, shouldn't it?"
The boy's face reddened in anger as some of the other kids laughed. He reached for Rig's shoulder as if to pull him out of the chair. Quick as lightning, Rig grabbed him by his two middle fingers and tilted them up, bending his wrist back. The boy immediately went to his knees. "Ow, ow, ow-ow-ow," the boy whined in pain.
"That's the second time you tried to touch me in a way I didn't authorize," Rig informed him. "Please don't do it again." His tone was still polite, but with a slight edge. He let go of the boy. He grabbed the backpack off of his desk and handed it to the boy with a polite smile.
The boy was rubbing his wrist as he stood up. He snatched his backpack out of Rig's hand and walked away, fuming. "Don't mind Lance."
Rig turned to his right to see a stunning brunette girl in the seat next to him. He smiled, showing off his braces. "I don't usually mind anyone trying to bully me," he replied. "That's why I didn't get up." He winked.
She blushed. "My name's Rebecca," she offered. "Rebecca Stewart."
"Nice to meet you, Rebecca. I'm Rig Johnson," Rig replied.
She giggled. "I know. I heard." She smiled. Rig's heart stopped beating for a second. "So, first day?" she asked.
"Isn't it everybody's?" Rig asked with a mischievous smile.
She giggled again and blushed, embarrassed. "I suppose it is," she answered shyly.
Rig laughed softly. "I'm sorry, Becca. I can be too much of a smart-aleck for my own good," he smiled. "Yes, this is my first day at this school."
She rolled her eyes. "Please, for the love of all that is good and holy, never call me that again," she said and smiled. "I hate that name."
It was Rig's turn to blush. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "It'll never happen again."
She narrowed her eyes playfully. "See that it doesn't, sir," she winked.
His heart skipped a beat. "So, you're from around here?" he asked. He was suddenly nervous. He'd never been hesitant to talk to girls before. There was something about this one, though.
"Yup," she answered. "Since I popped out of my momma's coochie." She giggled.
"Well, I guess that's one way to put it," he said, laughing.
She shrugged. "Sometimes people say I have no filter. I just say what's on my mind."
"That can get you into trouble if you're not careful," he replied.
"I know," she said, shrugging. "I just don't care." She smiled then nibbled on her bottom lip. "Listen, um, I don't usually do this, but, um," she trailed off.
"I'd love to," he answered.
She blinked. "You don't even know what I was gonna say!"
He turned in his seat to face her fully. He looked into her eyes. She had the most mesmerizing green eyes he'd ever seen. He was suddenly at a loss for words. "Wow," he whispered.
"What?" she asked, blinking her eyes at him, unsure.
"Your eyes," he said. "They're the most beautiful shade of green I've ever seen. Like a springtime forest."
She blushed deeply, but had the biggest smile on her face. "Momma says it's an anomaly. Only two percent of the world's population has green eyes, but my shade of dark green is even more rare. Something like, one in a billion, is what she says."
"Either way, I'm smitten," he said, then blushed, but never took his eyes off of hers. "Wanna go see a movie Saturday?" he blurted out.
Before she could answer, the teacher came in and started taking roll. She hurriedly scribbled something on a piece of paper, then wadded it up and tossed it at him. He caught it and opened it. He grinned so big it hurt his cheeks, but he didn't care. He read the note again. [I'd love to, but, you gotta meet my parents first. ;-) XOXO]. Rig didn't notice the scowl on Lance's face from two rows up.
You might say it was love at first sight for Rig and Rebecca, even if it was puppy love. From that day forward, however, they were inseparable. It turned out there was only one class that they didn't have together. He had chosen Spanish as an elective while she chose French. Other than that, one would rarely be seen without the other.
A week after their first date, Rig brought Rebecca home to meet his parents. Upon walking through the door, Rebecca marveled at the beauty of his parents' house. "Wow," she whispered in awe. "It's so beautiful. What do your parents do for a living?" she asked.
"Dad's a neurosurgeon and mom's a...well..." he faltered.
"Just call me Suzy homemaker," Rig's mom said, approaching the pair in the foyer with a wide smile. She was considerably shorter than Rig; even a few inches shorter than Rebecca. She was a plump, middle-aged woman with twinkling eyes, a winning smile, and perfect blonde hair that went to her lower back.
Rebecca giggled. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Johnson," she greeted Rig's mom.
"Oh, please, honey," his mom said, waving her hand out and down in a dismissive gesture. "You can call me Suzy, or just Sue." She winked at Rebecca as she wrapped her in a hug.
