<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052</id><updated>2011-12-31T19:46:26.039-06:00</updated><title type='text'>cass and cady</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>216</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-3306352728605137201</id><published>2010-12-31T11:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-12-31T11:34:58.410-06:00</updated><title type='text'>and so</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TR4T879v_OI/AAAAAAAAAc8/jNt7Ymi7ebM/s1600/sweetpicbaby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TR4T879v_OI/AAAAAAAAAc8/jNt7Ymi7ebM/s400/sweetpicbaby.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was definitely a quiet Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cass couldn't remember one where there was no drinking. Alcohol. His mom believed in it. But not this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least, they'd heard from Casey. He was perfectly fine in Arizona. He supposed that was his mother's favorite Christmas present. But it had been so somber. No new gadgets for video gaming could make it better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But at least little Joy was sleeping through the night. And now, Cass was a full time Dad. He'd quit his job just to take care of the baby. Luckily, he could do this with the money that Joy left. Although, he didn't exactly like it this way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He'd find himself dreaming what it would have been like if Cory and Joy had their own home and what happy Christmas it would have been. At least Cory was around. He'd moved in with Cass and Cady. Of course, it took him forever to get completely out of Joy's apartment. Cass knew Cory didn't want to get rid of, but he had. Finally, made a clean break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cass kept waiting for Cady to complain about a crowded house, but she hadn't. Not yet. No, she'd been busy making cookies and trying to make thing manageable. Yes, maybe things were better than good. She seemed more sure of herself now. And he'd been waiting for that for a very long time now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-3306352728605137201?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/3306352728605137201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=3306352728605137201&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/3306352728605137201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/3306352728605137201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/12/and-so.html' title='and so'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TR4T879v_OI/AAAAAAAAAc8/jNt7Ymi7ebM/s72-c/sweetpicbaby.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-1794139699515609809</id><published>2010-10-24T12:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-24T12:19:49.135-05:00</updated><title type='text'>around and around</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TMRqJFLSk-I/AAAAAAAAAco/nQSSlwjBTNc/s1600/insadwaydcory.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TMRqJFLSk-I/AAAAAAAAAco/nQSSlwjBTNc/s1600/insadwaydcory.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was like he couldn't listen. He didn't want to. He didn't want to face the fact that his life was over. Well, a good portion of it with Joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cory felt numb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, she told him the truth about the baby and in a couple more breaths...flatline.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It stung him deep. He remembered the moments well. All hell broke lose. It was so unexpected. She'd never had a troubled moment from the get go during the pregnancy. It was nonsense. Just nonsense. It had to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You could stay with us. We could stay with you." Cady babbled for the longest time there in the waiting room. It didn't matter. The equation remained the same and Cory just stood there still as everything buzzed around him. He felt like a shell and this pain pierced deep in his heart. Did she ever really love him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He felt cold. Like an iceberg had landed on his chest, but he stood so silent as if it wouldn't matter what he said. He might as well be a figment of their imagination. It couldn't be real. He didn't want it to be real. But everything was so intense, yet he might float away if he didn't stay anchored. Cory just didn't know what to be anchored too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-1794139699515609809?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/1794139699515609809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=1794139699515609809&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/1794139699515609809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/1794139699515609809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/10/around-and-around.html' title='around and around'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TMRqJFLSk-I/AAAAAAAAAco/nQSSlwjBTNc/s72-c/insadwaydcory.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-1979613984873189138</id><published>2010-10-12T10:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-12T11:06:32.465-05:00</updated><title type='text'>thats me in the corner</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TLSFa-fqX0I/AAAAAAAAAcc/mTBki7yul5A/s1600/cadylookkk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TLSFa-fqX0I/AAAAAAAAAcc/mTBki7yul5A/s320/cadylookkk.jpg" width="264" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;It was so unexpected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cady did not see this coming. It was just so not real. She didn't want to believe it. But it had happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as much as she didn't like Joy. She didn't want it to end this way, but it had. Everything had changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cass stood there like a bump on a log. He wouldn't say anything. They were at the hospital, gathered there like family. A new arrival. Kind of late, but still it was happening. A baby was born.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What do you mean? She didn't make it?" Cass almost loss consciousness. Cady grabbed for him. It was like they'd lost air. It couldn't be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cady winced hard as she tried to decifer the news. It looked as if the baby was coming home with them. Not his brother. Cady felt a cold chill. It just couldn't be possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What is he talking about?" Cady looked up at Cass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You heard them." He would not speak of Joy or what had happened. Cady hugged Cass. She knew he was crying then. Suddenly, everything was in their court, and Cady really wasn't up to playing a ballgame, by any means.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-1979613984873189138?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/1979613984873189138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=1979613984873189138&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/1979613984873189138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/1979613984873189138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/10/thats-me-in-corner.html' title='thats me in the corner'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TLSFa-fqX0I/AAAAAAAAAcc/mTBki7yul5A/s72-c/cadylookkk.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-892068898123012809</id><published>2010-10-02T12:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-02T12:41:32.561-05:00</updated><title type='text'>not this time</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TKdupqxQLiI/AAAAAAAAAaw/RowNRx9Ed0c/s1600/morningbroken.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TKdupqxQLiI/AAAAAAAAAaw/RowNRx9Ed0c/s400/morningbroken.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rafe was afraid of it. He knew Dil had done more than his share of taking on Emma and his friends too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're gonna get sick, I just know it." Rafe thought Dil was in a sad way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Like what? The flu? Cause if thats what you mean, I already got my shot." Dil told him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No." Rafe couldn't exactly explained. "Its just you, you got through these waves of..something. You know, you're up.Excited about every damn little thing. But then you get so low, about everything too." Rafe tried his best to comfort him when he put his arm around his neck there in the bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're fuck'n not helping at the moment, now are you." Dil just winced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sorry, its just, you've come so far and you're really..really amazing, you know that. And I just would hate to see you down again, because..because I care about you. I love you. And..and am I enough?" Rafe looked at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Of course, you are." Dil's eyes lit. His smile said everything to Rafe. A laugh shook through Dil. They kissed then and Rafe was sure of it. Things were good between them even when a baby was teething, and all their friends were falling apart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-892068898123012809?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/892068898123012809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=892068898123012809&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/892068898123012809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/892068898123012809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/10/not-this-time.html' title='not this time'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TKdupqxQLiI/AAAAAAAAAaw/RowNRx9Ed0c/s72-c/morningbroken.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-4971198443892737091</id><published>2010-09-18T08:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-18T08:22:16.931-05:00</updated><title type='text'>at a stand still</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TJS8zNBPVLI/AAAAAAAAAag/Ze258OoBVSA/s1600/cassscss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TJS8zNBPVLI/AAAAAAAAAag/Ze258OoBVSA/s320/cassscss.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Cass guessed the breakfast rush gave him a rush now. At least he knew which individual needed what. Old Mrs. Jamison from accounting needed her hash browns and sunny-side up eggs pronto. Young Mr. Woo always wanted a hamburger with an egg in it. Usually, Cass never met a stranger he didn't like. He shuffled through the morning one order after another. And then at the end was Dil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What are you doing here?" Cass looked at him over the grill. "Aren't you missing something?" The baby wasn't with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Very funny, just wanted to find out, how good do you make breakfast." Dil gave him a serious look. Something serious must be happening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I've made you breakfast before." Cass shrugged. He knew he better throw on some French toast and some Canadian bacon. He was going to give him the works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dil gave him a little smirk and asked how it was going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Fine. I guess." Cass nodded as he watched the toast sizzle with egg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nothing new. Nothing old going on?" Dil went through the line. It was only him. It was well after nine a.m. now. The real people who worked there were at their desk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Same old shit, you know." Cass grinned then. He took Dil's food out to a table and grabbed them some coffee. Cass set down with a sigh and just looked at Dil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We don't go out anymore." Cass crossed his arms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thank God." Dil just smiled poured a heap of cream in his coffee then loads of syrup on his toast. "That gets pretty old, you know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ha, ha." Cass scratched a side burn. "I thought you came all the way down here to kiss me or something. Kind of thought you missed me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I do." Dil yawned then. "Some things don't change." Dil looked him in the eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You know, its like everyone is moving on, but me. I just can't seem to get with it. Don't know whats wrong with me." Cass shrugged then. Really, he felt a little trapped, but then he knew if he wasn't then he wouldn't do doing anything at all. Maybe wandering the streets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Its probably Cady's fault." Dil decided for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hell, yeah. She very indecisive. Its all her fault." Dil smiled so did Cass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Maybe I just like the indecisive sort. My Mom's a lot like that." Cass nodded. He finally got to his black coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But you've always liked things simple. You know, settle down with who ever finds you. That kind of thing. Really, you'd want it that way. Can't think of you ever wanting to complicate things." Dil reminded him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We talking about Joy now?" Cass winced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You know, she's always going to be there. She is family." Dil stuffed some bacon and toast in his mouth then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cass felt a bit sad then as if he knew exactly what he was talking about. Maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Uh, Cady told me something that Joy told her." That's all he needed to hear from Dil. The rest of deafening. He hadn't meant not to hear it. It was as if it stung to really know. To know all along it would be this way. And what made Cass the saddest the most was the fact, he'd never be the father Dil was. He was sure of it now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-4971198443892737091?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/4971198443892737091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=4971198443892737091&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4971198443892737091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4971198443892737091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/09/at-stand-still.html' title='at a stand still'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TJS8zNBPVLI/AAAAAAAAAag/Ze258OoBVSA/s72-c/cassscss.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-5294311317775474671</id><published>2010-09-10T21:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-10T21:06:43.556-05:00</updated><title type='text'>show down</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TIrj-ciOxCI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/fHHQkNjicEo/s1600/cadyndil.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TIrj-ciOxCI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/fHHQkNjicEo/s400/cadyndil.jpg" width="192" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;"You didn't did you?" Dil looked Cady up and down. It was just the three of them at her place. He, Emma and Cady. Emma was asleep and the only place he could put her was the carseat on the floor next to the couch. Really, if they wanted to have them over, couldn't she at least have a crib for Emma. But no, wait, Cady was never going to have kids. Was she? Dil imagined.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?" She pouted slightly as if it were true. Could be true. Her and Cory, more than just kind of family by way of his brother Cass. "OK, I thought about it." Her lashes flutter. She flung herself on the couch then, hugging herself as if she was the only one in this position that wasn't exactly a condition, as of yet. Dil didn't think. He sat next to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not helping you, Cady." Dil shook his head, no. He knew she was hurt by the news about Cass and Joy having a baby. "You can't get revenge like that. You know, and eye for an eye or sperm for sperm, something like that." Dil squinted hard at the thought that Cady would actually want to have sex with him in hopes of a baby. Any baby but Cass'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Shut up." Cady squinted so hard. Oh, it was true. He could feel it. Her and Cory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What did you do?" Not that he wanted a mental picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OK, I got him drunk. It could have happened." She sighed in frustration as if she were a loser, somehow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You got him drunk in his missing brother's room and ...and had your way with him?" Dil's eyes buldged. He saw that she was holding her cell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not exactly." She bit her bottom lip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What? What? Then." He gave her a hard stare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Maybe I could break them up, or something." She shrugged and looked as if she might be on drugs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"ARE YOU AN IDIOT!" Dil reached for her phone then. "You took pictures didn't you? Didn't you!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She tugged the phone back, but he tugged harder. The phone flew from them then and crashed into the wall like a missle, breaking in bits then. Luckily, it missed Emma who hadn't awoke to Dil's screams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"LOOK, CADY! You are stronger than this. You are. You don't need to break up a family." He grabbed her shoulders. "Joy needs Cory. You don't want Cass to be back in her life. DO YOU!" He shook her hard. "DO YOU!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cady said nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"God. Just get over it. Just be a better person. This isn't you. It isn't. You will rise to the occasion. You will get through this." He held her hand then as if he knew she'd do the right thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I dunno if I can." She started to cry. He hugged her then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you want me to tell Cass?" Dil asked. She shook her head, no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm going to tell Cass about that baby being his." Dil wasn't taking no for an answer. Someone had to do the right thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-5294311317775474671?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/5294311317775474671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=5294311317775474671&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/5294311317775474671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/5294311317775474671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/09/show-down.html' title='show down'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TIrj-ciOxCI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/fHHQkNjicEo/s72-c/cadyndil.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-3122314017728501944</id><published>2010-09-04T14:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-04T14:21:19.818-05:00</updated><title type='text'>wrapped up tight</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TIKbFAeJbPI/AAAAAAAAAaI/RhHArnftKSc/s1600/dcory.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TIKbFAeJbPI/AAAAAAAAAaI/RhHArnftKSc/s400/dcory.jpg" width="267" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp;Did she hear that right? Cady thought she passed out when she heard what Joy said. Was she just doing this to her because Cady had finally wanted to be her friend. After all this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I just thought you should know." Joy looked so innocent as if they could keep this secret between themselves. She'd learned of this weeks ago. Cass was going to be a father instead of an uncle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here she was having to listen to Cass' brother Cory telling her how somebody had stopped him on the streets of New York City and told him he should model.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Can you believe that?" Cory smiled. He showed Cady the card.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You should do it. Right now." Cady just said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But I can't." Cory winced. "Joy's going to have the baby any day now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hasn't she been pregnant forever?" Cady hated this secret. She did. Why did she have to keep it? Why did she have to be the nice girl. When at the time she could have had a catfight with Joy and well, that might have hurt and possibly Joy would have won. After all, Joy was ready to deliver any second.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It does seem that way." Cory nodded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were where Cass and Cory grew up, trying to clean out Cody's room while their mother was at work. It had been sealed off. His mother couldn't walk into the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sure Joy would want you to have your own dream come true." Cady told him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Joy? Ha, well, she's a little preoccupied right now." Cory shrugged as if there was no possible way she'd listen to anything he said now. She was still that ME person they both knew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She just doesn't appreciate you enough." Cady had decided, and maybe it was time someone appreciated Cory.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-3122314017728501944?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/3122314017728501944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=3122314017728501944&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/3122314017728501944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/3122314017728501944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/09/wrapped-up-tight.html' title='wrapped up tight'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TIKbFAeJbPI/AAAAAAAAAaI/RhHArnftKSc/s72-c/dcory.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-685130703113276554</id><published>2010-08-27T23:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-27T23:34:15.448-05:00</updated><title type='text'>tell me about it</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/THiQ9zX5uYI/AAAAAAAAAY4/2bFdz5DYayY/s1600/slyyyy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/THiQ9zX5uYI/AAAAAAAAAY4/2bFdz5DYayY/s320/slyyyy.jpg" width="264" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Brick went to look for Cherry. He couldn't imagine where she'd gone. It had been like something completely solid the last week or so with her, and now he couldn't think what to do if she wasn't there by his side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So maybe he'd taking a vacation with her. He wasn't exactly working. He'd just wanted to be with her. Of course, he sponged off Dil for the most part. He was easy going about it. Dil didn't seem to mind. They were all friends here. It was all good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He finally dressed and went upstairs to see if Cherry was there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good, you're here." He was all grins. He kissed her on the forehead as if she might be his new pet, and there was something uber-important he forgot. Brick just couldn't remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Aren't you suppose to be helping Rafe?" Dil looked at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Am I?" He had to have some French toast first. He was famished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You need to at least call in. Have you been doing that?" Dil stressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He guessed he hadn't. Didn't see why he should.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dil direct dialed Rafe then. He handed the phone over to Brick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What am I suppose to say?" Brick looked at him so innocent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Tell him you've had brain surgery. What do you think?" Dil was a bit snide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brick looked at Cherry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Um, I'm, I'm having brain ..a brain operation." Brick winced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cherry just rolled her eyes. Brick just smiled. He guessed that wasn't a very good answer. He listened to Rafe tell them how far behind they were. They were short on help. They needed them. It was like a wake up call he guessed. But he really didn't want to leave Cherry. What if he never saw her again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll be there in a few minutes." He needed real food though or he just wasn't going to make it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-685130703113276554?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/685130703113276554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=685130703113276554&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/685130703113276554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/685130703113276554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/08/tell-me-about-it.html' title='tell me about it'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/THiQ9zX5uYI/AAAAAAAAAY4/2bFdz5DYayY/s72-c/slyyyy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-8449374008031111531</id><published>2010-08-15T10:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-15T10:27:34.941-05:00</updated><title type='text'>wake up call</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TGgGPd-YWAI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/eH1KgRNKbEI/s1600/chernmad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="230" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TGgGPd-YWAI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/eH1KgRNKbEI/s400/chernmad.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What in the world was she doing? Here, in a garage of a gas station. Cherry thought of making an exit. This very second. But she didn't budge from the bed. Why wasn't she moving? Wasn't that she was paralyzed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She didn't have a good answer about being with Brick. Unfortunately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cherry knew she always fell for the wrong guy. Brick was probably the wrong guy. Yet, she was lost. She was. And there was a time when she looked down on everyone in her family. That she was better than they were. And yes, she did make it to the Uni for about a year. Some college education. She was away from a mother who kept finding boyfriends to travel with. Usually, this meant saying goodbye to her a lot. Images of her Mom on the back of some motorcyle with some dude who looked like he could be from ZZ Tops. Or was that Stops. She didn't listen to that kind of music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow, she felt completely responsible for losing her little sister Maddie. It was a sadness that she knew she couldn't quite overcome. Maybe if she went to taking antidepressants like her mom, she'd forget too. But she really didn't want to forget Maddie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well. She had to get dressed if she were leaving. And she was. Although, her mom had sold the house and was somewhere in the Black Hills now with a white guy even though, she had always wanted a son of a Native American. Cherry hoped she never had her mother's rational. Exactly. She hoped she was capable of taking care of herself. But by the looks of it, she might be having to take care of Brick too. Who was still dead to the world asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She stared at him, thinking this was what she should do. Walk out that door and never come back, but she smelled coffee from Dil's place so she went upstairs instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm going to go." She pressed her hands around the hot mug of coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But you just got here." He looked at her puzzled as he put baby Emma in the wind up swing. Emma was very content as she looked at both of them, curiously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I mean, with Brick." She looked at Dil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh." Dil looked kind of worried. "I was hoping you'd be around. Um, just in case, you know, I'd rather you watch Emma instead of Brick."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Me?" She almost laughed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She needs a woman around and you know, you're a pretty good role model. For the most part. Even if you are with Brick who-"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?" She was concerned what he meant about Brick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nothing." He shrugged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It isn't nothing. Tell me?" She pressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's he told you?" Dil wanted to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not much. You're not saying.... I'm his first?" She wanted to say she hated that idea and yet she liked it all the more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Maybe?" Dil winced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How can that be? He's hot." She winced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And...gay." Dil shrugged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Seriously?" She'd definitely not gotten that vibe. She sat down to think on this. "Maybe I should go." She was baffled. Kind of hurt. OK, the more she thought on it. Really, hurt. She squinted hard, but no tears came. How many nights had they been together? It was like nonstop with him. An illness, perhaps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No. No, don't. You need to just figure this out with Brick." Dil told her. She took another sip of coffee. Yes, it was still waking her up. She looked at Emma then. Suddenly, there was something so familiar about Emma, but she didn't know what.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-8449374008031111531?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/8449374008031111531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=8449374008031111531&amp;isPopup=true' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/8449374008031111531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/8449374008031111531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/08/wake-up-call.html' title='wake up call'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TGgGPd-YWAI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/eH1KgRNKbEI/s72-c/chernmad.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-8929120739624968596</id><published>2010-08-11T01:50:00.058-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-12T01:01:11.422-05:00</updated><title type='text'>an epidemic</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TF7WisI5Z0I/AAAAAAAAAUY/aG7h_dNEDtM/s1600/ravndil.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="295" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TF7WisI5Z0I/AAAAAAAAAUY/aG7h_dNEDtM/s400/ravndil.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So you think Cady wants one now?" Rafe looked at Dil as he was letting Emma stretch out on his chest as he laid there on the couch with her. The baby was sleeping beautifully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, babies are not puppies." Dil didn't sound positive about Cady's little love/lust for baby Emma. He sat on the floor next to the couch and petted Emma's back as if he had to make sure her breathing was correct. As it was, Dil never let her sleep on her tummy. Rafe did have to admit, Dil watched her constantly. He wondered if Dil ever actually slept. But Dil had been the one who wanted her and stayed home with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You think she knows that?" Rafe questioned about Cady.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Suppose, too, but she gets bored easily." Dil told him. Rafe just nodded. Perhaps this was true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I can't really see Cass being a Dad. But you might have started an outbreak, you know, you finding Emma like you did." Rafe informed him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What, having babies is contagious?" Dil smirked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, I guess." Rafe smiled more then. It was true. Emma did give him a good feeling. He wasn't sure if it were an accomplishment of some sort of just the sense of something so small could radiate such love and sweet baby smells...or not. Rafe winced then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When is the last time you changed her pamper?" He felt a little wet on his stomach. He cringed. What was once warmth was now ice cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I thought you changed her?" Dil winced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No? Was I suppose too?" Rafe set up with the baby then and very carefully put her her back in his lap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, I told you first thing when you took her from me." Dil got up then to go get a pamper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I guess I didn't hear you." Rafe shrugged looking at Emma who was still in dreamland.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, let me change her." Dil reached for her then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Let her sleep." Rafe looked up at him. He just got a perturbed look from Dil, but Rafe put Emma in her crib. She was still nursing the invisible bottle. Dil stood there beside Rafe watching. She was beautiful. And yeah, maybe she was contagious. Because when Rafe looked at Dil, he saw a certain beauty in Dil he'd never seen before too. He couldn't help but smile as he put his arm around Dil's waist and hugged him close, kissing him sweetly. Rafe was pretty sure, if Dil would let him..he just might do more than sleep with him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-8929120739624968596?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/8929120739624968596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=8929120739624968596&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/8929120739624968596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/8929120739624968596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/08/epidemic.html' title='an epidemic'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TF7WisI5Z0I/AAAAAAAAAUY/aG7h_dNEDtM/s72-c/ravndil.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-4500293859068958161</id><published>2010-08-08T10:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-08T10:44:32.154-05:00</updated><title type='text'>uncharted waters</title><content type='html'>Cork was holding his own at the party. Had the right smile. He guessed. As it was, everyone had their head in the phone, texting. What was the problem?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I dunno what to do." This was so boring. He didn't even have a TWEETER account. He didn't have a keyboard on his cell. He had a pay as you go phone. It was only used for emergencies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're doing just fine." Ella took his hand. Corky smiled. He looked around. Really, they were the only ones holding hands. Suddenly, he felt he was in some sort of incubation system, and he and Ella were the first to hatch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What are we suppose to do." People really weren't interacting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I dunno." Ella shrugged looking around. No one really noticed them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Then, can we get out of here?" He bit his bottom lip. He didn't want to stay around for any games. Even if someone was warming up the Guitar Hero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not yet." She squinted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corky was beginning to sweat. He just wanted to make an arrival. Walk around and then go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, hey, Ella, wow, you brought him!" Some dark haired Asian girl looked up from her phone. She snapped their picture then. Ella just grinned and looked at Corky. "How does it feel to have your brother missing like he is?" She asked as if she might be part of some gossip web site then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TEZpQf-BThI/AAAAAAAAATw/w_or14GyLog/s1600/ellncork.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="164" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TEZpQf-BThI/AAAAAAAAATw/w_or14GyLog/s200/ellncork.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?" Corky was instantly horrifed. Was that why Ella had brought him? Cork scowled at the both of them. He was ready to leave. Now. Without Ella. He went out the sliding glass doors then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"WAIT!" Ella ran after him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Really, I didn't- think- you know - anyone would ask about your brother, Cody." She grabbed his arm then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I can't be here." He thought he might melt into tears. He felt the rush of emotion in his face. He missed Cody so much. Why did he have to care so much about Cody. Obviously, Cody didn't care about him at all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-4500293859068958161?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/4500293859068958161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=4500293859068958161&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4500293859068958161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4500293859068958161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/08/uncharted-waters.html' title='uncharted waters'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TEZpQf-BThI/AAAAAAAAATw/w_or14GyLog/s72-c/ellncork.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-6249552206976835322</id><published>2010-07-31T17:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-31T17:30:03.559-05:00</updated><title type='text'>obviously</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TFSjGqPRyBI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/jZxZ2xHleek/s1600/serene.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TFSjGqPRyBI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/jZxZ2xHleek/s400/serene.jpg" width="171" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Cady felt so awkward handling Emma. She couldn't help but catch herself laughing. Especially with Dil's help. It was a shock. Purely amazing. Him with a baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So are you getting enough rest?" She asked while Emma fell asleep in her arms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No." He looked so serious, but then he smiled. "Its OK. Rafe does his share." He looked behind him. Rafe was busy cleaning the kitchen. The place was spotless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wish you two would come over and clean for me." She felt happy here. It was a strange feeling. Like she was so warm and had fallen into a big pillow that swallowed her, to keep her from the bad outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No. Believe me. We are doing good with just the two of us keeping cleaned up after this one." He touched Emma's cheek so quaintly with his finger. Naturally, she made a nursing movement with her little lips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're so bad." She whispered. "You love her so much. Who would have thunk it? She'd steal your heart."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dil shrugged dizy-liked and plopped on the couch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I still can't believe it." The paperwork was going well and it looked as if they were certain to be Emma's foster parents. Not a glitch to be found. Even if the parent were to step forward now, it looked as if under the circumstances, Emma was there's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You weren't nervous with the social worker?" Cady asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Of course, I was." Dil sighed, hugging himself. "Thank God, I never had a record. Neither did Rafe." He sighed with relief. "We might not have to move just yet, you know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good." Cady nodded. She looked at the baby then. She had no idea it would feel this good to hold a baby. It was sort of like an orgasm, but in her soul. Cady hadn't felt this sort of rare treat in a very long time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-6249552206976835322?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/6249552206976835322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=6249552206976835322&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/6249552206976835322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/6249552206976835322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/07/obviously.html' title='obviously'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TFSjGqPRyBI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/jZxZ2xHleek/s72-c/serene.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-404908942499424516</id><published>2010-07-28T13:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-28T13:43:58.764-05:00</updated><title type='text'>our lives are blue</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TFB5OBD8j3I/AAAAAAAAAUI/md3cRgOJ7y8/s1600/coryn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TFB5OBD8j3I/AAAAAAAAAUI/md3cRgOJ7y8/s320/coryn.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Really, Cory felt he was between a rock and a hard place, lately. Naturally, his mother made him feel like the most guilty person ever. How could he have gone to New York City for a honeymoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He just listened. That was all he could do. He knew, becoming a father was not exactly on her mind at the moment. True, she would actually be a grandmother soon. And it made him a little happy that he could give her the first grandchild. Of course, he could see that didn't mean much to her. It was obvious now that she didn't even want to be a grandmother among other ills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A part of him wished he could have taken someone up on their offer back in New York. He'd been handed a card by someone off the street. They told him he would be fabulous for modeling. Of course, that gave him a laugh and when Joy had asked him about it, he said he doubted it was anything. It might have been porn, for all he knew. But he'd kept the card and did some investigating online when he got back. The modeling agency was legit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But he went back to work out in the heat and the horrid humidity. It was days like this, he wished he had a cushy job. And he'd probably make a lot more money for his family even if Joy told him never to worry about that. He did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, he had an itch to go back to New York and see if he could cut it in the modeling world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you crazy?" Cass laughed it off. "You got too much going on." Cass at least had him over for a few beers and a spicy stirfry. At least he was there to let him know not to worry so much about their mother and her attitude. He felt reasonably sure that Cody was just fine, somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Did he call you?" Cory really wished Cody would call someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cass shook his head. "No news is good news." Cass gave him a stare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cory just shook his head. His brother had no idea of the concept to that one liner. Especially, when he was waiting for a baby to be born. It was true now. They were in total separate worlds. It was like Cass had never known Joy now. Cory drank at his beer, wondering if either of them had changed at all. Would they always be under their mother's thumb? Cory tried to smile, but the truth was...he was ready for a change.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-404908942499424516?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/404908942499424516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=404908942499424516&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/404908942499424516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/404908942499424516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/07/our-lives-are-blue.html' title='our lives are blue'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TFB5OBD8j3I/AAAAAAAAAUI/md3cRgOJ7y8/s72-c/coryn.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-6066978776080017108</id><published>2010-07-23T01:11:00.032-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-08T10:28:41.217-05:00</updated><title type='text'>quicksand</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TEZpQf-BThI/AAAAAAAAATw/w_or14GyLog/s1600/ellncork.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="328" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TEZpQf-BThI/AAAAAAAAATw/w_or14GyLog/s400/ellncork.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Does this mean we're breaking up?" Ella put Corky on the spot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?" He had ridden his bike all the way to her house. He doubted he would have put this much energy into something like that. Didn't she get it? She was the only thing normal he had left. Mom was so doped up from the sedatives and what ever it was the doctors were giving her to calm down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cass could have cared less about him these days. He was in the daily grind with that new job of his and of course, Cory was all lovey with Joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You know how I feel about you?" She squinted hard then hoping this wasn't gonna be drama. Couldn't they just sit in the cool lovingroom vegging out in front of the TV?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, I don't?" She looked at him all wide eyed as he followed her to her room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sorry." He was kind of in a sweat here. He couldn't say if it was because of the ride or her just wanting to be into the drama. "Look, I haven't touched a cigarette. Just smell me. See what you think?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She frowned at him, but then took a whiff of him. She came so close to his face, he thought it might mean a kiss. Or was that a test too?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corky pressed his lips tight wonder what was next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What do you want from me?" He looked at her puzzled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I want you to come to a party with me." She eyed him then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A party?" He almost said&amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;You know, I don't do parties&lt;/i&gt;. But he wiggled his lips slightly. "When?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Today."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's not much notice." He stared at her as he leaned on her doorway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Will you go?" She wanted to know as she kept hugging herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Like this?" True, a black T-shirt and baggy shorts wasn't exactly impressive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't care." She shrugged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corky didn't want to fail at this, but he knew he would as long as they were meeting her private school friends. He guessed it was bound to happen, sometime.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-6066978776080017108?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/6066978776080017108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=6066978776080017108&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/6066978776080017108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/6066978776080017108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/07/quicksand.html' title='quicksand'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/TEZpQf-BThI/AAAAAAAAATw/w_or14GyLog/s72-c/ellncork.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-4521686145720958839</id><published>2010-07-18T04:14:00.033-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-18T04:14:00.428-05:00</updated><title type='text'>do over</title><content type='html'>Maddie didn't want to think it a complete vicious circle. But it did feel she'd gotten out of one fix just to get into another. She was still a mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mary had taken her in. Helped her get settled with Mannie. It was as if Mary had to magic touch. She knew Mannie's mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She was much younger than you," Mary said and Maddie thought of herself just a child even if the last few months had been so restless and wayward. What hadn't hurt her had made her stronger, and now, here she was with somebody else's baby and not her own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The breastfeeding will help heal you." Mary told her. Although, no one said it would be easy. The first few dayss were horrible. She was sure she couldn't do it, but then it happened as if something woke up inside her and was ready to replenish. It was a strange process. And she kept telling herself no way was she going to enjoy it, but after she got to know Mannie, and the innocent looks he gave her, and he clung on to her as if he was meant to stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, this made her happy yet sad at once. She couldn't help but think how Emma was doing. But she knew from the moment she gave Emma to Dil that he loved her and wasn't going to give up. That had to count for something. She had to only hope it was all right. There was a job to do now. And she had to move forward. There was no going back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She stayed at Mary's with the baby and Cody stayed away. But then he showed up one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I didn't think you'd come back." The emotions were unstoppable, but she didn't think she was wrong about him even if he had told her about his terrible ordeal with her before they met.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I probably shouldn't," he said. "But you know, I'm not all that reasonable." She saw his smile then, and she hoped they could start over. She hoped she'd learned a thing or two now about life, and maybe he had too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-4521686145720958839?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/4521686145720958839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=4521686145720958839&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4521686145720958839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4521686145720958839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/07/do-over.html' title='do over'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-4901266534607523966</id><published>2010-07-14T03:02:00.045-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-14T03:02:00.405-05:00</updated><title type='text'>just one more for the ride</title><content type='html'>Mary had somehow got inventive and changed Maddie's records up at the hospital. At least she got the treatment she needed and was on the mend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cody managed to put a few more minutes on the cell that Dil had given him. At least, he blended around here. No one thought he might be out of place. After all, he was staying with Jesus, helping him out with his art studio. All was good in the world. It was just, he hadn't called home. He wanted to, but was afraid his mom's phone might be tapped or something. He didn't want to take his chances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, he got up the nerve to call Dil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So, how is she?" Cody asked first thing about Emma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She's great." Dil told him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's she doing right now?" Cody asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sleeping." Dil sounded tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What are you doing?" Cody wanted to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sleeping." Dil yawned then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sorry, I didn't mean-"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you OK? Is Maddie OK?" Dil asked then as if he were awake now, and he was listening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, we're fine. Everything is OK." Cody told him. "But she did have to go to the hospital."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Really?" Dil sounded worried then. "Are you sure she's OK?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, there's just one hitch." Cody finally said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's that?" Dil sounded curious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We have a baby." Cody felt a tickle of laughter in his throat, but it was no laughing matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What? She was still pregnant with another one?" Dil was in shock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No. No, you have Emma. Its not Emma's brother." Cody took a deep breath, hoping he could explain it. "This, runaway, at the hospital left her baby there, and the nurse that was helping Maddie said it was Maddie's baby. So-"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you serious?" Dil's voice was so loud then. Cody had to put the phone away from his head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, I'm serious." Cody didn't know what else to say. Really, Mannie didn't look that much different from Emma. They could have passed for siblings. But he knew Maddie was happy, and it was going to be all right. Some how.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-4901266534607523966?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/4901266534607523966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=4901266534607523966&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4901266534607523966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4901266534607523966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/07/just-one-more-for-ride.html' title='just one more for the ride'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-1113930718155833500</id><published>2010-07-08T03:01:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-08T03:01:00.403-05:00</updated><title type='text'>to each his own</title><content type='html'>Cory tried to keep the Cody mystery from Joy as long as he could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They'd had a nice time in New York City. Although, she couldn't do as much as she&amp;nbsp; had wanted. Of course, there had been shopping and some shows, and it felt like a honeymoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you think your Mom is mad at you?" Joy wanted to know once they got back to their place and lounged around the holiday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If she's mad at anyone, its Cody." Cory almost laughed. "Look, don't worry about any of this. I'm sure where ever Cody is, he's OK."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How do you know?" Joy looked at him as if he might have a sixth sense about these things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cory only smiled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I dunno. I think he can take care of himself. Sure, it freaked me when I found he'd hurt himself like that, but I don't think it would happen again. I just don't." Cory had a faith in Cody. Whatever was going on, he knew his little brother would do the right thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cory had to believe that, because he had to do the right thing, being here with Joy. They had their own family to worry over now. Hopefully, Cody would come home soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-1113930718155833500?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/1113930718155833500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=1113930718155833500&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/1113930718155833500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/1113930718155833500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/07/to-each-his-own.html' title='to each his own'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-8804922306004768821</id><published>2010-07-04T02:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-04T02:28:00.227-05:00</updated><title type='text'>another and another</title><content type='html'>"Are you gonna be OK?" Ella was worried that Corky might go OCD on her. He hadn't slept in days. She'd never seen him that worried about anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I dunno." His lips were so chapped. And it shocked her when she saw him with a pack of cigarette in his hand. Before she knew it, he lit up a cigarette and took a long drag off of it as if he was somebody else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ella just stared. Was it contagious? What ever Cody had? She didn't know this Corky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What happened to you?" Ella winced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were going for a walk to go look at the fireworks stand near his house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nothing." He tensed as if she were suppose to understand, but she didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Does your mother know what you're doing?" Ella's face swelled in a frown as she hugged herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They're her cigarettes." He shrugged as if it were no big deal. He took another draw off the cigarette.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You know what those do?" She informed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, cancer." He scowled, but he didn't stop smoking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And wild fires." She reminded him. They walked on again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Look, I've been smoking since I was five." He gave her a glare then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?" Ella gave him a disgusting look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not all the time, just, you know, I dunno." He took a long draw of the cigarette then as if he wouldn't have to talk to her. "I never said I was perfect."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Your mother lets you?" Ella didn't understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hell, no, but she's a good reason too, you know." He bit his bottom lip. "I just need to calm my nerves."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What next, a bottle of vodka?" She took the cigarette from him then and stomped it so hard on the side walk. They stared at the smoldering cigarette butt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No." He winced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I care about you, Cork, I do, and you act like you-" She gave him a big hug then. "Look, I count on you to always do the right thing. If its so crazy at home, come home with me, will you? You have to get away from your weird family."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They are not weird." He pushed her away then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"God, Cork, you don't even sound like yourself." She looked at him. "What's happened to you?" She started to cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He took her hand then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sorry. OK." Corky finally said. They were at the fireworks stand now. "Look, I need the cigarettes to light up things. After tonight, promise. No more cigarettes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ella didn't say anything. She wanted to believe him, but she didn't know if she could.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-8804922306004768821?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/8804922306004768821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=8804922306004768821&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/8804922306004768821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/8804922306004768821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/07/another-and-another.html' title='another and another'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-7987147720822722153</id><published>2010-06-29T14:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-29T14:27:22.554-05:00</updated><title type='text'>sister sister</title><content type='html'>Cady couldn't believe this. It all felt so doomed. Cass was dragging. He had ever since starting his new job, or was it all Cody's fault for running out like that? Cass' mother was about to drive her crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"At this rate, we'll all be on drugs." She told her sister who had called. Somehow she'd heard the news from somewhere about Cody. Of course, Cady wanted to ask so many questions, but she didn't. They, talked about how Cody was not exactly sane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you think he's dangerous?" Her sister acted as if he might be a serial killer of some kind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I just can't see it." She only thought of him hiding in his room jamming his thumb into a controler in front of a TV with a video game on. Actually, she really didn't know him. Definitely, didn't want to know him now, either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just where are you, Angie?" Cady finally got up the nerve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, we're at Mom's." Angie just said as if Cady was suppose to know that already. That she was with Jay now, and everything was better than ever. He had a new job. They had a new place. Everything was turning out wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom's? Mom and Dad's?" Cady hugged herself with the phone then. It was like them to always consider Angie as the good sister even if Angie was with someone Cady considered totally dangerous. "Thanks for telling me." No way was she venturing to see Angie now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-7987147720822722153?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/7987147720822722153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=7987147720822722153&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/7987147720822722153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/7987147720822722153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/06/sister-sister.html' title='sister sister'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-1812635696853231498</id><published>2010-06-25T01:20:00.029-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-25T06:21:10.188-05:00</updated><title type='text'>almost wiped out</title><content type='html'>Dil felt as if he were sleepwalking with Emma. It was a bit clumsy. But she didn't seem to mind. Naturally, she cried when Rafe held her, but she hushed right up when she went to Dil. Of course, he felt this was defeating the purpose. He so wanted a nap. Guess who was sleeping right now? It definitely wasn't Emma, but Rafe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She kept staring with those dark eyes of hers. That head of dark curly hair. He'd never seen so much in his life. He wanted to call Cady, but he was afraid too because he wasn't sure he could juggle a cell phone and a baby at the same time. But she seemed OK, sucking on her fist...watching him. Only, he didn't want to fall asleep while holding her. He felt so waylaid and helpless. But in Emma's eyes, he could see he could do no wrong. He just wished he had that much confidence in himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a tap on the door then. He wondered if a social worker came to visit. He remembered what Rafe's Dad said. The gas station was no place to raise a child. He went to open it. There was Brick with a girl. That woke Dil up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, you got anything to eat?" Brick was Mr. Casual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I dunno. You'd have to look and see." Dil shrugged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, this is Cherry." Brick said as if an after thought as he peered into the fridge. "Hey, look, Cherry, we got cherries." He said it like the most pathetic joke ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not sure those are any good, anymore." Dil knew there was something he forgot to do. Clean out the fridge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Who's baby?" Cherry asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mine." Dil said so certain as if he were on autopilot now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's so weird." Brick popped a cherry in his mouth. "Because I didn't even know Cady was gonna have a baby."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ha ha." Dil rolled his eyes at that. Emma was falling asleep now so he went to put her down. He went back to see that Brick had helped himself to something that could be cooked in the microwave. Dil yawned so sleepily then. "Clean up when your done, OK." He was going to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sure will." Brick gave him a salute. Of course, Dil wasn't counting on that happening. He'd never cleaned up after&amp;nbsp; himself before.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-1812635696853231498?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/1812635696853231498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=1812635696853231498&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/1812635696853231498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/1812635696853231498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/06/almost-wiped-out.html' title='almost wiped out'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-4482239405835501655</id><published>2010-06-20T01:06:00.020-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-20T01:06:00.721-05:00</updated><title type='text'>from her dismay</title><content type='html'>Cherry felt she had to explain a few things to Brick. Of course, it wasn't until after they had sex again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Really, I don't normally do this." She might have made it sound like this whole thing with him had been an out of body experience and yet here she was with him. "I-I was in a really bad relationship before. That was so long ago. See, see, this guy cheated on me with&amp;nbsp; my sister. I-I just didn't know he was like the head honcho in a gang. But he was really into drugs and I dunno. My sister, of course." She thought of Maddie then wondering where she was. She knew what Corky had said, but she wasn't sure if she believed him. After all, his brother Cody was still a bit schizo. Could have been the drugs talking for all she knew. "Anyway, um, Julio was shot in some big drug bust, and my sister disappeared. Well, she'd ran away from home before that. Its been such an ugly mess. All I've done is worry about her. I was so mad at first. I really haven't thought much about me..until you came along."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cherry felt a relief just telling Brick everything. She hoped she wouldn't regret it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you hungry?" He then asked as if he hadn't heard a word she said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Kind of." She guessed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Lets go see Dil." Brick smiled. "He'll have something to eat. I just moved in. I have nothing to eat." He put his arm around her as if they had all the time in the world. He was definitely in no hurry to get to Dil's.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-4482239405835501655?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/4482239405835501655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=4482239405835501655&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4482239405835501655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4482239405835501655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/06/from-her-dismay.html' title='from her dismay'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-3385770525438198378</id><published>2010-06-15T01:54:00.025-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-19T16:45:55.516-05:00</updated><title type='text'>what has to be done</title><content type='html'>Mary took Maddie's temp.She was resting on the sofa now at Jesus' place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's a little high." She looked at Cody as if he were respondsible for all this that had happened, not Maddie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I gave her Tylenol." He shrugged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It could be a staff infection." Mary told them. "You should be in the hospital."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But I can't." Maddie protested.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cody just dug deeper into his jeans, wondering what to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Maddie, you're sick, you gotta go." Cody didn't know what else to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Once they find me, I don't know where they'll take me. You can't let them take me!" She begged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What is she going on about?" Mary, who looked as if she might be a Saint or something with her thick dark hair braided back. All in white and ready for work at the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Witness protection, I think." Cody sighed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We need to get her some place for some meds." Mary insisted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Can't you just-just give me some antibiotics or something?" Maddie cringed as she laid there practically shivering on the couch even.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You need a doctor." Mary looked to Jesus then. He just nodded at Cody who guessed he knew what they had to do. Get Maddie to the hospital.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-3385770525438198378?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/3385770525438198378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=3385770525438198378&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/3385770525438198378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/3385770525438198378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/06/wht-has-to-be-done.html' title='what has to be done'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-2687521710796900135</id><published>2010-06-10T01:43:00.018-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-10T15:24:32.430-05:00</updated><title type='text'>better than usual</title><content type='html'>Brick had fallen into something, and he wasn't sure he was ready to get up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He woke up next to Cherry in his new bed at Dil's gas station. aka, the garage. He found himself in a deep laugh. Perhaps, she hadn't completely curried him from guy lusting, but pretty darn close. He could get used to this. It was a happy thought coming over him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His eyes lit. He wanted her. Now. Not that he wasn't hungry, or anything. He was. He kissed her shoulder as he watched her sleep. She was really sweet, yet had been quite sad. Then the drinks kicked in, and they'd came here, and it was like a silly game he now thought. If you do that, then I'll do this.... sort of thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And they did do things to each other. Brick chocked on his laugh. His smile rested on a distant memory. Well, it hadn't been that long, ago. He knew she wanted him. And what else mattered. Deep down, he wanted to be wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He kissed her eyelids, but that didn't wake her, either. He kissed her nose. A slight smile happened then as if she might be playing possum. Finally the lips. Yes, creeping in slowly, he knew just now could possibly be better than last night. Better was all he could thing about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-2687521710796900135?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/2687521710796900135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=2687521710796900135&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/2687521710796900135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/2687521710796900135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/06/better-than-usual.html' title='better than usual'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-1021383833280494743</id><published>2010-06-08T01:32:00.011-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-08T01:32:00.458-05:00</updated><title type='text'>like a maniac</title><content type='html'>"This is so crazy." Cass knew his Mom would need a tranquilizer or two to calm down. Cody wasn't at the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was after the reception before she knew. She kept yelling about how they hospital could have called sooner. But she was told&amp;nbsp; he'd tricked them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Stop using that word!" She pointed her finger at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom, you just need to settle down." At least they had Joy and Cory off the the airport. Of course, Joy wasn't sure they'd let her on the plane to New York City due to her condition, but finally they were off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naturally, Cass knew her mother would get to the bottom of this or else. She had been on the phone with cops and security and nurses and doctors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally she slammed her old cell phone shut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I KNEW IT!" She shouted in her kitchen. Of course, Corky came running. He'd been watching the news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What, Mom! What! Is it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That god-damn girl! She took my Cody away from me!" She was certain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom, please, you don't know that for sure." Cass winced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They've got the video to prove it." She fumed with her arms crossed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cass went to pour some more coffee. It was well the next day now. Almost noon in fact. How long had it been since the wedding, he wonder?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shit, Cass thought. His Mom was going to get him fired. He hated that job, but he needed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Where are you going!" She demanded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Work! I have to get to work before its too late." He gave her an ugly glare. If she could get all bossy, so could he.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-1021383833280494743?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/1021383833280494743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=1021383833280494743&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/1021383833280494743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/1021383833280494743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/06/like-maniac.html' title='like a maniac'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-234480314737564250</id><published>2010-06-06T01:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-06T01:20:00.162-05:00</updated><title type='text'>as it should be</title><content type='html'>"I was the first one to hold her, you know." Dil looked blankly at Rafe who was clumsily trying to put a pamper on Emma. They'd both had baby bootcamp for the last four hours, or so it seemed and now they were going to let them take her home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dil, are you sure about that?" Rafe questioned with a very serious glare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not making this shit up." Dil informed her. "Sorry. I- I know." Dil closed his eyes, half asleep. He just wasn't sure he was ready to leave the hospital with Emma yet. He was so tired. He hadn't eaten in so long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OK." Rafe barely said above a whisper as he touched Dil's arm then and kissed his forehead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You think we can do this?" Dil winced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, they wouldn't let us leave the hospital, other wise." As it was his dad had taken care of getting the carseat, even a baby bed for their place. Naturally, he told Rafe they couldn't stay there for long. Living above a gas station was no place to raise a child according to him. "You know, you'll be taking care of her, mostly."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?" Dil winced more as Rafe handed over Emma. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I can only help so much. I gotta work." Rafe gave him a slightly soured look. No way, would he get him out of his comfort zone. Dil imagined anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I know." Still he was full of sleep. His head nodded off as he looked into Emma's very dark eyes while she sucked on her fist. "Could we just stay in the hospital for a few hours, so I could sleep." His eyes closed more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No. You'll sleep at home." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dil sighed. Why was he always the one left carrying everything?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-234480314737564250?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/234480314737564250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=234480314737564250&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/234480314737564250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/234480314737564250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/06/as-it-should-be.html' title='as it should be'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-4211683145723419706</id><published>2010-06-04T02:15:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T02:15:00.938-05:00</updated><title type='text'>home is where ever you are</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/S_WM4LYCzsI/AAAAAAAAASY/nTR2_VrG7Dk/s1600/galebenjes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" gu="true" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/S_WM4LYCzsI/AAAAAAAAASY/nTR2_VrG7Dk/s400/galebenjes.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Does she know?" Jesus looked at Cody as if he'd better come clean about all of it. "You and your many personalities?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I guess." Cody winced. He just needed refuge somewhere, and it was here at Jesus' adobe in the sands. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maddie was bleeding again. It would not stop. But she wouldn't think of the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No hospital." She winced. There had been blood on the train, but they'd taken no responsibility of it. Cody had Jesus waiting for them in his old sky blue pick- up truck. They'd had to drive out of town a good hour. Now Maddie had taken to the little&amp;nbsp;bed behind the couch in Jesus' livingroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I dunno what to do." Cody had given her Tylenol from the bathroom cabinet. He'd taken a good long look at himself. He wasn't quite sure who he was anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm worried." Jesus got on to his cell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You wouldn't." Cody knew he had to be loyal to Maddie now. Nothing else mattered. &lt;em&gt;They&lt;/em&gt; were all loyal to her. &lt;em&gt;They&lt;/em&gt; were in his head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just calm down." Jesus told him he would call Mary. "She'll know what to do. She's a nurse and she just lives in a trailer right up the road."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Cody got Maddie to take the Tylenol, he put a cool wash cloth on her head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't want to see you this way. I don't. I want to help. I just don't know how." He told her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was in pain. He guessed. She wouldn't say much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Did you call him? Is the baby, OK?" She finally managed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, Cody hadn't called Dil. He was afraid too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just then Jesus got off the phone. Mary was on her way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-4211683145723419706?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/4211683145723419706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=4211683145723419706&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4211683145723419706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4211683145723419706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/06/home-is-where-ever-you-are.html' title='home is where ever you are'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/S_WM4LYCzsI/AAAAAAAAASY/nTR2_VrG7Dk/s72-c/galebenjes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-8400104180408765183</id><published>2010-06-02T01:47:00.011-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T01:47:00.660-05:00</updated><title type='text'>what are the odds</title><content type='html'>Brick was left&amp;nbsp;to his own devices, or was that vices.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He didn't know anyone at this wedding but Cass and maybe Cady, and they where shunning him. He drank the champagne. Then some wine. Honestly, he was feeling pretty good. Sort of. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he had a pad. Kind of. He was gonna be just fine. And then he noticed her. She looked out of place too. She was after all the only black girl there. She looked a bit lost. Out of place as much as he did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You want to dance?" He asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I dunno." She shrugged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Come on." He'd seen her talking to a kid who was now ignoring her like she might have a disease. "What's your name?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She didn't say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Look, I'm Brick and would you like this dance?" He tried the old fashioned approach. When he touched her he noticed a slight resistance, but then she let it go and told him she was Cherry. Soon enough they were on the dance floor which was actually a tennis court. Lightening began to flash all around.&amp;nbsp; It was oddly electric. Brick couldn't help but smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was good to be close to someone. And she was smiling too. Maybe he'd get lucky. Anyone would do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-8400104180408765183?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/8400104180408765183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=8400104180408765183&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/8400104180408765183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/8400104180408765183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/06/what-are-odds.html' title='what are the odds'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-4194501195821665748</id><published>2010-05-30T01:38:00.016-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-30T01:38:00.271-05:00</updated><title type='text'>on the road</title><content type='html'>Were they really at the train station now? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Huh?" Cody woke up like he'd been asleep for an awful long time. There was Maddie by his side. She really looked so bad. Like she might be thirsty or hungry. Possibly dying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You said we'd see your uncle." Maddie told him. They found themselves a seat on the train.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Uncle?" He knew only one uncle and that was Uncle Jesus and he lived out in Arizona. It was Cory's uncle actually, but they, all his brothers,&amp;nbsp;thought of him as their uncle too. He'd lived with them when he was younger, but he was almost 30 now and was an artist of some kind. He liked to paint murals on the sides of old buildings. "Oh, yeah, Uncle Jesus." He remembered now. Slightly. He looked around, sort of lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was wearing something of Rafe's. He guessed. The pants were a little baggy but the work boots were awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Does he know we're coming?" Maddie asked, wincing a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I dunno." And he didn't. Maybe someone else inside him had talked to Jesus, but he couldn't be sure. He looked on his cell. Actually, he didn't even know his uncle's cell. He then remembered, this was Dil's old cell phone. It had a few minutes left on it. Dil promised he'd add some. He hit redial. Immediately, the voice was thick with a Spanish accent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cody just smiled. It was Jesus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-4194501195821665748?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/4194501195821665748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=4194501195821665748&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4194501195821665748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4194501195821665748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/05/on-road.html' title='on the road'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-4280719082328897380</id><published>2010-05-28T01:33:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-28T01:33:00.201-05:00</updated><title type='text'>aftermath</title><content type='html'>Rafe got a phone call from his father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you all right?" Rafe thought the worst.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm at the hospital with Dil." His dad said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dil? What happened?" Rafe was afraid Dil had hurt&amp;nbsp;himself. Maybe on purpose for all he knew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Its too hard to explain. Just get here. All right." His Dad told him. So Rafe didn't even get a glass of champagne. He left Brick on his own and went straight to Midlands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, when he got there he knew Dil looked as if he'd been through a storm of some kind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What happened?" Rafe could see he wasn't that bad off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Something, horrible and beautiful happened at the same time." Dil could barely speak, but he told him what had happened after he left about the girl who came and she'd had the baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rafe shook his head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Its a miracle, Rafe, it really is." Dil looked up at him as if&amp;nbsp;it were a sign of some kind. "We have to take her. We have too. Please, don't be mad at me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not mad." Just in shock. Rafe gave Dil a hug. He looked back at his Dad. He knew if anyone could help them with this, it would be his Dad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-4280719082328897380?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/4280719082328897380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=4280719082328897380&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4280719082328897380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4280719082328897380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/05/aftermath.html' title='aftermath'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-4028642626538393880</id><published>2010-05-26T01:24:00.015-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T01:24:00.906-05:00</updated><title type='text'>floating on</title><content type='html'>Dil felt like a criminal of some kind. He wanted to call someone, but who?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He called Rafe's Dad right away. Told him about finding the baby. He made something up that who ever this was was on their way to the dumpster with the child. He hated to sound so horrified of the thought. But what if they had. He believe he'd saved the child, somehow. Even if she were born in his bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now Dil cringed at the thought of what it would look like at home. He hoped Cody cleaned up like he said he would. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Rafe's dad met him there. Dil was shocked. Nurses and a doctor were there to rescue&amp;nbsp;her from his arms. What if he never saw Emma again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You've told them everything. Right?" Rafe's Dad was consoling. Dil reminded him that the baby's mother wanted him to keep it. "She wanted her name to be Emma."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, then it will be." His Dad was all smiles as he made phone calls to a&amp;nbsp;lawyer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You think, they'll let me take her home?" Dil couldn't think of a thing wrong with her. She was dark eyed. A lot like Cass and his family. Dil just imagined he knew who the baby's father was. Cody. Had to be. And now they had to get away. Somebody was after them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But he felt like a melt down might be coming. Any second now. All of this hitting where it hurt. He was no one, wasn't he? With a baby that wasn't exactly his.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-4028642626538393880?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/4028642626538393880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=4028642626538393880&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4028642626538393880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4028642626538393880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/05/floating-on.html' title='floating on'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-8688237552188548335</id><published>2010-05-24T02:39:00.043-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-24T02:39:00.334-05:00</updated><title type='text'>before its gone</title><content type='html'>It pretty much felt like an out of body experience to Cody.&amp;nbsp; Actually, he wasn't sure who was in charge, but he was hanging on for the ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a maze to get out of that freaking hospital. No one noticed them. It was as if they they'd been invisible, perhaps. He smiled about that now. And he'd hot wired a car. How did he do that? Then they got all the way out to that old gas station, and they'd met a friend of Cass'. This was freaking better than drugs he decided.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who was this guy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cody swore it was not him. Not really. Yes, he had all those identities on all those video games and online stuff, but..but..could he really be a chameleon? Really?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, he was glad it was someone else there for that baby. Yeah, he would have passed out, already. It was like someone had given him instructions and lines to just come out of his mouth. This was crazy. But it wasn't so bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maddie had that kid in&amp;nbsp;an hour. Of course, she had been in labor most of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What do I do now?" Dil was all nervous with the infant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You go clean her up and I'll take care of the rest." There it went again. Just doing its job like robocop. Of course, Cody wasn't sure just what to do with after birth. Honestly, he just hoped Maddie had some guts left. He thought he might lose it for sure now, but he didn't. He'd already cut the cord with a butcher knife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I have to get this baby to the hospital." Dil washed the blood bath off the baby girl. Actually, it looked more like cottage cheese in her black silky locks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No." Maddie told him. "Don't. Just keep her for me. Please. I don't want them to take her away. I want to know you'll keep her and you'll be there for her."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dil just nodded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You will? Really?" Maddie was serious even if she looked as if she'd been slim-ed herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But, but I have to get her to the hospital. You need to go too." Dil told her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maddie shook her head, no. She promised she'd be fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dil wrapped the baby in a cup towel then. He needed a blanket he said. All he could think about was the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just take her to Midlands." Maddie winced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Midlands? But that's like out in the country, almost?" He winced. He lived closer to the University hospital from where Maddie and Cody had&amp;nbsp;came. He just nodded then as if he was sticking to the plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just-Just- cleanup. OK?" Dil was going. But Maddie wanted last look at the baby girl so he brought the baby to her and let her hold it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cody couldn't fold now. It was too late for that. They had to keep going. Going. Gone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-8688237552188548335?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/8688237552188548335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=8688237552188548335&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/8688237552188548335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/8688237552188548335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/05/before-its-gone.html' title='before its gone'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-3172138886064771059</id><published>2010-05-22T14:17:00.034-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-22T14:17:00.822-05:00</updated><title type='text'>here they come</title><content type='html'>Cass had had a bad dream about a baby being born. But it wasn't his even if he thought so at first, and somebody said, "Never mind."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He wasn't suppose to worry about it. So he didn't. He found Joy's Teddy-bear in the back of the closet and put it in a box to wrap along with two white pasta bowls. He knew&amp;nbsp;Joy didn't have a set, and he knew how much Cory liked pasta. That would have to do. He added a note "Dinner on me, anytime."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there he was on a perfect sunny day. Just a hint of the past winter, fading fast, yet a peaceful cool breeze set in. It couldn't be more perfect other than the fact that Rafe showed up with Brick. He squinted then wondering where Dil had gone. What was going on? Something must have happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, as soon as this wedding was done, he'd just kick someone's ass. Brick's. He just wanted him to get out of their lives. He could sit there sulking all he wanted to, but he'd suck the life out any plans you might have with someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just what was he going to do about Brick?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The&amp;nbsp;minister droned on. He had to wonder if he'd be able to stay awake during his own wedding. Finally, he looked over at his mother and saw she looked as if she were ready for a funeral. All in black. Cass sighed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He remembered seeing a picture of his mother in red. It was a bit of a costume. But she was very young then and her husband was very old. She of course, didn't stay with him. It hadn't lasted more than 3 months. She went to Alaska and met his father, and he guessed she'd never really been dignified since. There were no trace of her family roots. Nobody ever asked of her mother or her father, and yet&amp;nbsp;he and his brothers&amp;nbsp;had remained at her side like a sacred army.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why was she so much trouble? Why couldn't she for once make over them when they were there. Not when they were away like she did with Cody. She would always be a mystery to him. He wanted to forget how important she was to him, but he&amp;nbsp;guessed a little of him would always belong to her, where ever he went because deep down he loved each brother. He wanted the best for them. He had to be there for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as the union commenced, wine glasses were&amp;nbsp;smashed on the cement. It was done. Cory had a wife. Cass just gave him a handshake and a hug. He was suppose to be first at this. And he wasn't. Hopefully, he'd be next, but who knew. Corky had more of chance getting married before he did. He was beginning to think.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-3172138886064771059?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/3172138886064771059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=3172138886064771059&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/3172138886064771059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/3172138886064771059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/05/here-they-come.html' title='here they come'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-4461606075415475251</id><published>2010-05-20T01:13:00.047-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-20T01:13:00.115-05:00</updated><title type='text'>reboot</title><content type='html'>"Baby..yeah, like he really knows how to baby me!" Dil slid the brush of mauve paint back and forth. It was so therapeutic. Or was it? He was ready to sling paint all over the place. He so wanted too. He was angry. He knew Rafe hated the idea of Brick being here. He wondered now if it was Brick, Rafe&amp;nbsp;didn't trust. Or him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was seething now. Just ready to spit on life. This was not right. Rafe was so perfect. Knew the answers to everything. Find a friend who was in need, and he just imagined Dil as this friend indeed. Something like that. Dil imagined.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was just a bad taste in his mouth. He could hardly stand to keep his mind on this awful paint. God, what was he doing, he thought. What was he doing with his life? Really? Everything felt like it was at a stand still. Maybe he was no better now than when he had no one and was all alone. Would it always be this? Always the odd fellow. Just a little too weird for everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He caught a breath then. His eyes were starting to water. He felt like shit. He sniffed then. He looked up to see someone was lifting the garage door open. The noise alone freaked him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!" He didn't even think that door worked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he heard the echo of pain bellow across the garage. There was a thin&amp;nbsp;teenage boy&amp;nbsp;with a girl who&amp;nbsp;couldn't stand up. They were both in&amp;nbsp;pajamas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dil just winced as he came closer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's wrong?" The stench of paint was in the air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She's-she's having a baby." The boy got out, all breathy. He was about to fall with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, she can't have it in here." Dil caught her before she fell on the&amp;nbsp;cement. Naturally,&amp;nbsp;it took them both to get her up the steps out back to Dil's place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You live here?" The teenager asked.&amp;nbsp;Dil thought of Cass when the boy spoke. Perhaps it was his mannerisms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, with my boyfriend." Dil let them in and they made their way to bedroom where they got the girl resting comfortably. Possibly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Maybe I should call 911." Dil went to get the phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"NO." She shook her head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It might be kind of late for that."&amp;nbsp;The teenager told him as he was tugging off the wet bottoms. It was just then that&amp;nbsp;Dil noticed&amp;nbsp;the cuff of his jeans were wet too.&amp;nbsp;Her water must have broken somewhere outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh." Dil grimaced as he went to wash up. "You ever done this before?" He asked him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No." The boy shrugged. "You ever deliver kittens?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, actually, I have."&amp;nbsp;Dil&amp;nbsp;sighed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It can't be much different than that, can it?" There came that look of Cass's then. Those mannerisms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you have a brother named Cass?" Dil looked at him then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, how did you know?" He smiled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There came another wave of agony. Dil shivered as if he might throw up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Go hold her hand." Cass' brother saw Dil's computer in the livingroom. "I'm gonna go google and see what pops up. I'll be right back." He gave Dil a&amp;nbsp; little push then. Dil just nodded and went to see about her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-4461606075415475251?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/4461606075415475251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=4461606075415475251&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4461606075415475251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4461606075415475251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/05/reboot.html' title='reboot'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-4472835065325125303</id><published>2010-05-18T01:04:00.018-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-18T01:04:00.077-05:00</updated><title type='text'>don't say it again</title><content type='html'>"You're sure about this?" Rafe pulled Dil away from his little paint project down stairs at the gas station. "I thought you loved weddings."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dil just shrugged. He had a job to do. He was trying to get Brick settled. He'd gone to pawn shops and garage sales just to get some order in the new bachelor pad. Perhaps, it didn't look like a total garage now. It was a bit funky. Purples and pinks on the interior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you sure Brick likes the colors?" Rafe made a face. He sure wasn't going to live here. Talk about letting the feminine side out of the bag. It was a bit over kill to him with the purple couch and a love flower rug.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It was what I could find, OK." Dil snapped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Look, you need a break. You do. Lets just go to the wedding, and enjoy ourselves." Rafe sighed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You go." Dil was indifferent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is this about us?" Rafe winced. "That we haven't set a date or something?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Or something." Dil looked away and started painting the brick wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Come on, quit being such a baby, will you." Rafe winced. "Maybe that's why I'm in no hurry to start a family with you when I've got you to baby."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Get out of here." Dil huffed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sorry." Rafe apologized then. He just didn't know if it were too late for one. He hadn't meant to say it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just go. Will you." Dil looked as if he might cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rafe shrugged and backed his way out. Dil was mad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-4472835065325125303?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/4472835065325125303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=4472835065325125303&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4472835065325125303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4472835065325125303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/05/dont-say-it-again.html' title='don&apos;t say it again'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-5621948300796811955</id><published>2010-05-16T02:49:00.028-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-16T02:49:00.173-05:00</updated><title type='text'>bombs away</title><content type='html'>Cody wasn't sure if he was taking his pills or not. He thought so. They watched him like a hawk most days even if they were giving him more space and time to himself these days. It was as&amp;nbsp;if everything was more or less normal and then Maddie showed up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Maybe you aren't real." He pushed her way. He had just gotten himself a candy bar in the vending machine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey!" She looked at him frantically. "I need your help."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What? You want my candy bar?" He took half of the Almond Joy and gave the rest to her. "So we can both feel like a nut." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She just stared at him. Obviously, she didn't get the joke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Help me." She begged even if she did take the rest of the candy bar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"With what?" He winced. "I don't know you. Don't want to know you. And I'm-I'm probably talking to the wall. Really, though, you got fat you know, and..and not that there is anything wrong with that, but seriously, I don't need you to multiply on me here." He looked at her puzzled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I know if we try, we could both get out of here." She grabbed him before he could go back to his little world with the other freaks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not a super hero." He shook his head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But I know you want to help me." She looked so sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Maddie, Maddie, Maddie, don't do this to me, please!" He grimaced as he tried to get away from her, but was he really wanting too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"See, you even know my name." She reminded him as she held on to his arms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, because evidently I&amp;nbsp;saw a poster of you at the library and-and you just appeared in my head- god, I've been crazy ever since." He winced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But I'm here now. Its destiny. Can't you see that! Can't you!" Maddie pulled him closer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cody sucked in a breath before he thought he might lose control. He shook as if he might have a seizure of some kind and then suddenly, something inside of him bolted to the surface as if someone else could take of this situation even if he couldn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"All right." He did feel a new energy as he looked straight into that periled face of his. "LETS DO THIS."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-5621948300796811955?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/5621948300796811955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=5621948300796811955&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/5621948300796811955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/5621948300796811955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/05/bombs-away.html' title='bombs away'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-5038189202643786963</id><published>2010-05-14T02:33:00.042-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-14T02:33:00.343-05:00</updated><title type='text'>how we do</title><content type='html'>"See, it was a piece of cake, wasn't it?" Cory was with Cass getting his tux fitted for the wedding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Did you even talk to Joy's dad?" Cass winced as he was straightening the cuffs and the tie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In all honesty, I never met the man nor have spoken to him." Cory just shrugged as if it wasn't that big of&amp;nbsp; a deal for him. After all, a part of him thought he was more a father to Joy than her own, ever was. After thinking that, he thought it was kind gross, but actually, he guessed it was kind of like that in a relationship. Not that he told her what to do or&amp;nbsp;anything.&amp;nbsp; But at least he was there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, wealth always had its place in the well being of someone, but being a no-show, &amp;nbsp;he really did feel bad for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So did you ever get a hold of Dad?" Cass wondered. Cory knew Cass wouldn't since he wasn't Cass' real dad, but the one he'd always considered Dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He said he'd try." Cory wasn't counting on it. After all, he lived out in New Mexico, photographing nature.&amp;nbsp; He worked for a textbook company. His partner Lizbeth did drawings of dissections of lizards and other creatures in the sand. They kept busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Whens the last time you saw him?" Cass walked around in the fit black tux without any shoes on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Middle school, maybe." Cory looked at himself in the mirror. He was all in white. He didn't feel like himself at all. He turned back to Cass.&amp;nbsp;"You know how he and Mom got in that fight over his twin brother Gael."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh yeah, the big fight." Cass nodded. "When he found out who Corky's real dad was. That was a really good Father's day." Cass gave him a sly laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hardly." Cory shook his head, knowing it was best to keep this gathering, possibly fatherly free. There was just too much drama when it came to his family.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-5038189202643786963?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/5038189202643786963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=5038189202643786963&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/5038189202643786963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/5038189202643786963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/05/how-we-do.html' title='how we do'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-5565398144374551584</id><published>2010-05-12T02:31:00.012-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-12T02:31:00.432-05:00</updated><title type='text'>who's crazy now</title><content type='html'>Cady had butterflies in her stomach. She didn't know she'd dread it, this much, but she did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What has you in such a tizzy?" Her mother asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Its nothing." Cady shook her head. She looked to see the den was shut. Cass was in there with her father. Just like that. He was going to ask for her hand in marriage. She wondered what her dad would say. Would he tell Cass, no? What if he said &lt;em&gt;no way in hell&lt;/em&gt;.&amp;nbsp; Well, what if he did? She rung her hands and grimaced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It made Cady hostile. Really, she didn't know if she wanted Cass to be put through her father's questions and remarks about how&amp;nbsp;Cass was not good enough for his daughter. How he was just a mixed mongrel of some sort with no real values. That he was nothing. Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She stomped toward the door then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What are you doing, honey?" Her mother looked at her as if the den was off limits when men were talking. Cady gave her a bitter look. She pushed the door and broke into their conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Daddy, I don't care what you say." She was never his favorite, anyway. "I want to be with Cass."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, aren't you?" He was filling a pipe up with tobacco&amp;nbsp;and handing it Cass. It was some special blend from Turkey. "You have a mind of your own. I can't stop you from who you want to be with. I feel sorry for the boy. What you put him through. Pushing him away, taking him back. Make up your mind, Missy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cady looked at him funny. What was in that stuff they were smoking?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're dad's way cooler than you even know." Cass just grinned. He was making the most of the pipe smoking then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cady just coughed. She had to get out of here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, we're done here." She had to rescue Cass before he decided to take up with her Dad. She grabbed his hand then and made him put down the pipe. So much for her father's blessing on getting married.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-5565398144374551584?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/5565398144374551584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=5565398144374551584&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/5565398144374551584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/5565398144374551584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/05/whos-crazy-now.html' title='who&apos;s crazy now'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-1192827399625439496</id><published>2010-05-10T02:22:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-10T02:22:00.227-05:00</updated><title type='text'>a little means a lot</title><content type='html'>"What can we get them?" Cady had Cass out with her to find a present&amp;nbsp;for Joy and Cory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I dunno." Cass shrugged with her holding his hand. Maybe she was more in love with him than ever. They looked at crystal under glass at the shop in the mall. Honestly, he knew they couldn't afford anything in this store. "I could always wrap&amp;nbsp;up the teddy bear I stole from her." He almost smiled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You wouldn't." Cady rolled her eyes as if he were awful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I need to give her back that teddy bear, somehow. I doubt her dad will be there for her big day." Cass shrugged as she looked at the gold and silver. These&amp;nbsp;were things not from his world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why is that?" Cady leaned her head on his shoulder. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I suppose he's a big daddy who doesn't need to do things like that." Cass sighed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Speaking of which, you have not talked to my father." She would have to bring that up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"All right, lets just do it." This was a band-aid that needed to be ripped off. As painful as it was in his mind. He just hoped he'd say the right thing to this man and it would be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What? Right now?" She winced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah. Right now?" He slightly scowled. Even if he was in just an undershirt and a flannel shirt for a jacket. What did she want him to do? Make a fabulous meal and wear a suit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-1192827399625439496?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/1192827399625439496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=1192827399625439496&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/1192827399625439496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/1192827399625439496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/05/little-means-lot.html' title='a little means a lot'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-2880976356224260372</id><published>2010-05-08T02:05:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-08T02:05:00.744-05:00</updated><title type='text'>even so</title><content type='html'>Joy was sulking. No one seemed to care about her and Cory's upcoming wedding. Not even her mother. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Damn, Cody!" This was all his fault. She was sure of it. She wanted to at least blame him on part of it. Naturally, her mother not caring could be over looked then. It was true. They just wanted her to marry up into some big family like a cooperate merger. Well, she hated the thought of that. Hated it. Besides, she was going to have Cory's baby and well, it was meant to be. Honestly, she was with the right guy. He never lost his cool with her. He was always there when she needed him. Yes, she really did love him. And now she knew she really never loved Cass at all. She just wanted to hate him after awhile. And now that she had his brother, well...it had changed her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you sure?" Cory didn't quite believe her. He just grinned and told her not to worry about the wedding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She would try not too. He was babying her, of course. They had plans to go somewhere she liked for a honeymoon. New York City. They would go shopping. Take in a Broadway show. Fine dining. All on her Dad's credit card. Of course, he couldn't make time to be there for the wedding. So that's the way it would have to be. They deserved as much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You know I've changed." She glared at him, almost happily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He just rubbed her tummy instead as he knew what had really changed her. When he kissed the side of her face and put his arms around her. She felt safe. These were all things she never felt quite sure of with Cass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, she felt like she had a real family now, and they could move forward.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-2880976356224260372?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/2880976356224260372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=2880976356224260372&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/2880976356224260372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/2880976356224260372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/05/even-so.html' title='even so'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-4111058335060218684</id><published>2010-05-06T02:53:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-06T02:53:00.274-05:00</updated><title type='text'>its the little things</title><content type='html'>"It'll be all right." Dil kept telling Brick. "We have a place for you." Granted it needed a lot of fixing up. Dil's bright idea was to put Brick in the back of the gas station down stairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rafe thought he was a bit nuts. They'd checked it out for electricity. It was just cold concrete. But there was a bathroom and even a little kitchen area. Kind of. Mainly, a sink and a place for a microwave with an old vending machine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We can work with this." Dil was just full of surprises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you say so." Rafe wasn't sure why Dil cared, but he knew no one else did. He'd really gone out of his way for the guy. It was strange. Sort of. But not really because he knew Dil was like that. He was a whole lot more caring than he ever let on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"See, we got you bed." It was a big bed too. Only it was in the garage of the gas station. This bit empty space that was still tainted with old tire smells and engine parts even if they were long gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brick was so quiet. It was as if he knew he'd lost this battle with Cass because Cass would act now as if he wasn't even there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, lets eat something." Rafe finally said. He would pay for dinner.&amp;nbsp;It was the least he could do as Dil walked Brick around his potential pad.&amp;nbsp; "I did hook up the cable, so you know, you got TV." Rafe smiled. What else really mattered? He guess they had an old gaming system they could hook up for him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-4111058335060218684?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/4111058335060218684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=4111058335060218684&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4111058335060218684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4111058335060218684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/05/its-little-things.html' title='its the little things'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-2069801884618145284</id><published>2010-05-04T02:43:00.023-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-04T06:28:19.428-05:00</updated><title type='text'>can't quite find happiness</title><content type='html'>Cady wasn't sure what to believe. She knew she hated Brick. Completely. This was her Cass, he was messing with. She had to be on his side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You better not let me down." She was adament about it when she met Cass at the soccer game. Afterwards they stopped at a real diner. Not Dex's where they always went for beer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Really, I'm all fuzzy about the whole thing. I kind of remember." Cass told her. "I did, kiss him, but I wasn't thinking it was him until, you know, I realised it wasn't. I was, like, what an idiot." He shook his head. "I hate this new job, Cady." He looked so sad. "Its everything I didn't think it would be. I get bossed around. Its like I'm nothing. You know. I was so tired. Really, tired. Then this thing happens with Cody. I'm just stressed, I guess. The kiss didn't mean a thing. It was just a kiss."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Its OK." Cady wasn't going to give him a hard time about it. "You know, your brother is getting married like in three days."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah." Cass stared at her, blankly. "I don't want to go."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You are going to Joy and Cory's wedding." She glared back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, and it might rain too. Won't that be lovely. Pick the stormyest time of year. Mom's got Cody to worry about." Cass shook his head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Look, we have to get Brick out of the house. Which, Dil is trying to do, right now, and then this wedding. We can get through this. And you'll keep this job. You have too. We need it." She was trying to pay back Rafe as it was.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-2069801884618145284?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/2069801884618145284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=2069801884618145284&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/2069801884618145284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/2069801884618145284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/05/cant-quite-find-happiness.html' title='can&apos;t quite find happiness'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-225957953457337114</id><published>2010-05-02T01:35:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-02T01:35:00.233-05:00</updated><title type='text'>actually</title><content type='html'>"Would you listen to me?" All Cody had to talk on was a black phone in the TV area. There was nothing for privacy here, but Corky had to know. He wanted him to know. "Just listen to me." Naturally, Corky was being all did you know crap about what was happening on LOST.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't care about the stinking TV SHOW!" Cody almost snapped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes you do, you love that show. They should let you watch it." Corky told him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is about MADDIE?" Cody whispered the last part, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one knew what he was saying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Jesus! Cody, I thought you were better." Corky cried back as if they'd lost him for good, already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She's real. She really is and she's here. She's different than when she was in my head. She was a lot skinnier in my head, actually." Older too, he thought. "She's gonna have a baby." He whispered as loud as he could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?" Corky bellowed back. "What did they put you on?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just tell her sister. Please. She needs to know. OK." Cody had to hang up now, but before he did he had one more thing to tell his little brother. "I'm not crazy!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-225957953457337114?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/225957953457337114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=225957953457337114&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/225957953457337114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/225957953457337114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/05/actually.html' title='actually'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-3108083646219363133</id><published>2010-04-30T01:24:00.016-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-30T06:36:12.164-05:00</updated><title type='text'>a blank slate</title><content type='html'>Maddie wished she knew him. The nurses jumped on him like he might be a serial killer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is he OK?" She scowled thinking they were too mean to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, he just escaped the psych ward." Some huge woman told her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Whats wrong with him?" Maddie's eyes darted as she looked at him and then the nurses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Who knows for sure, he's a schizo." They were taking him away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you know his name? Can you, at least tell me, who he is?" Just then she noticed the name on his bracelet. Cody.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maddie bit her bottom lip as she watched them take him away. He was unconscious now. She felt so sad for him. She hadn't felt sad for anyone since being here. Just herself. She was sad she had to be here. She felt like a prisoner. She was in a witness protection program. She was about to give birth any-day to a gang leader's baby. She had told them everything they wanted to know about Gaz and his gang and now she was stuck here. No telling where they'd ship her off once the baby got here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-3108083646219363133?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/3108083646219363133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=3108083646219363133&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/3108083646219363133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/3108083646219363133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/04/blank-slate.html' title='a blank slate'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-1422499411942792022</id><published>2010-04-28T01:14:00.024-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-28T01:14:00.321-05:00</updated><title type='text'>just so you know</title><content type='html'>"Just listen to me." Dil caught Cady at her cubical. She looked at him as if she didn't have time for this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OK." She was getting ready to leave. "Can you make this quick?" She winced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Maybe we could have a drink or something. It might help." Dil looked at her so ominous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?" She winced. "First you said you had to tell me something. What's this about?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Everything is going to be OK." He walked with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"God, Dil, just say it.&amp;nbsp;Will you?" Cady stopped&amp;nbsp;but he didn't. He bumped into her instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Its about Brick." Dil looked as if they were about to get in a hurricane or something horrible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Brick?" She crossed her arms and gave him a stern look. "What about him?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He wants&amp;nbsp;Cass." Dil&amp;nbsp;remained even lip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I dunno. Maybe he thinks he's in love with&amp;nbsp;him."&amp;nbsp;Dil kept his eye on her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"God, I dunno what he has in mind, but he's gonna think of something. He'll say anything. I know him. He's kind of crazy." Dil admitted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Now you tell me." She turned from him and walked. He followed her to the elevator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sorry. I just think he'll tell you lies and hope that you believe them." Dil&amp;nbsp; told her as she pushed the button to go down. It was filling up with&amp;nbsp;people. "Promise me, you won't listen to him. OK?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cady&amp;nbsp;fumed then as she hugged herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm serious." Dil reminded her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OK."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And you promise you listen to him." Dil coaxed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"All right." She gritted. Just when she thought everything was falling into place with her and Cass along came a problem like Brick.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-1422499411942792022?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/1422499411942792022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=1422499411942792022&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/1422499411942792022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/1422499411942792022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/04/just-so-you-know.html' title='just so you know'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-8543541185306605932</id><published>2010-04-26T01:07:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-26T01:07:00.551-05:00</updated><title type='text'>starting to see clearly</title><content type='html'>Cody was in a sweat. He thought he'd never get out of that capsule they had him in, to take pictures of his brain. It was just awful. He hated hospitals. All he really wanted to do was just get out of this place and sleep in his own room at home. Get real sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what was that, anymore? He didn't feel like himself. More like a marshmallow that bumped into everything now. It was just strange. And..CRAZY. Yes, this was all crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was suppose to wait for the nurse, but decided to take a walk down the hospital hallway instead. Before he knew it, he'd made it to a stairwell. He almost laughed. He looked back and high tailed it up the stairwell. He wanted to go up. He wanted to get to the roof. That was his goal. Fresh air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, there he was in his hospital pajamas. Pale blue and not attractive at all. He could turn circles in them, perhaps. He was in paper shoes too. And he kept going and going, up the stairs. He got a little tired, but he found strength in the endurance of it. It was as if he was finding a natural high of his own. And he was alone. So alone. He grinned then. Happy to be alone. But when he got to the 14th floor, he saw someone who looked very familiar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cody winced. It couldn't be. No. It was probably just his imagination. Maddie was not suppose to be here. And when she turned toward him. He couldn't help but stare. That was no balloon under her shirt. Cody blinked. He looked around. There were pregnant women everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cody's heartbeat tensed. What was going on. He staggered back. He shook his head, no. He had nothing to do with this with Maddie. Nothing to do with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He winced hard and hit the floor. He could barely breath. But there she was looking down at him. Asking him if he were OK. He couldn't even speak. No, he was not OK. He didn't want to see her, but she kept trying to help him. He knew he couldn't let her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-8543541185306605932?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/8543541185306605932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=8543541185306605932&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/8543541185306605932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/8543541185306605932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/04/starting-to-see-clearly.html' title='starting to see clearly'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-4208509687105089076</id><published>2010-04-24T02:56:00.018-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T08:16:55.379-05:00</updated><title type='text'>where now</title><content type='html'>"Ella, you ever wish your name was Bella so you could, you know, sort of cash in on the name." Cass was just talking. As he sat there on the porch waiting for her brother to get ready so they could watch him at a soccer game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Huh?" She winced. "Are you all right?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not really." He looked away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her brother and Corky were out kicking a few getting pumped for the game while Cass tore&amp;nbsp;a blade of grass....acting very silent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What happened?" She sat next to him and watched his fingers slice the grass and shred it appart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I dunno."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You do know." She almost cracked a laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Maybe I'm going crazy too." Cass sighed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, you're not. You're still not worried about Cody, are you?" She leaned her head near his upper arm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not really. I mean, he's got meds to take and if he learns the signs to look for. He'll be fine." Cass nodded. He looked over at&amp;nbsp; Ella then. "Hey, I'm glad you've been here for Corky. One last thing my Mom has to worry about. She's about to go nuts, herself."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, well, it was nice. He's like a best friend, you know, I'm glad he stayed with us." She nodded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Now tell me what is wrong with you." She looked up at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cass shook his head. "I just have to find a way to get a liar out of my house. I just don't want to go crazy, doing it."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-4208509687105089076?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/4208509687105089076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=4208509687105089076&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4208509687105089076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4208509687105089076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/04/where-now.html' title='where now'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-7656901996090529418</id><published>2010-04-22T03:00:00.020-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-22T03:00:01.875-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the slight chance</title><content type='html'>Brick didn't understand it. It was like it didn't happen. The kiss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It had been a week ago. It had been raining. It was dark outside. Three in the afternoon and Cass was in the kitchen, looking through the cupboard, half asleep. And Brick had came up from behind him to get a drink a water at the faucet. He swore now that it hadn't been his intention. But when Cass turned to him. It happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was a little dazed and confused too. It was awkward. But nice. And he'd kissed him back as if they always did this in&amp;nbsp; the kitchen this time of day. It was as if it wasn't unusual at all. And then Cass just grinned all sleepy eyed and went off to do something then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it hadn't happened, again. Of course, the scenario in his head went wild. It was crazy sexy and just what he'd been after. It had gone over and over in his head so long that Brick wanted to believe it was true. The absolute. He knew Cass wanted him. He had too. Why would he have kissed him in the first place?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"About last week." Brick looked at Cass now who was busy attacking the bad guys on a video game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What about it?" Cass was laying their in his tank and flannel pants. Barefooted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brick bit his bottom lip, wishing Cass didn't dress..so...OK, he was happy with that. He was. He plopped himself next to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You know." Brick looked at him seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, I don't." Cass would barely look at him. He was focused on the game. Finally he turned it off. "What?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Us." Brick winced. "That's what."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OK." He was pretty indifferent about it, though. "And?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And, and you were crazy hot." Brick told him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Like what?" Cass winced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When you kissed me and..and we went back to your bed and, you know." Brick shrugged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?" Cass scowled then. "What kind of dream did you have?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It wasn't a dream." He lied. "You wanted me, and it happened."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cass shook his head now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What, you don't even remember kissing me?" Brick looked hurt. "And you took off my shirt..and.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Stop." Cass winced hard. He grimaced. "Just leave me alone, will you?" Cass got up then. Put on his shoes. He wouldn't even stay in the house with him then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brick hugged himself then. This was not going as well as he'd hoped.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-7656901996090529418?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/7656901996090529418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=7656901996090529418&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/7656901996090529418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/7656901996090529418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/04/slight-chance.html' title='the slight chance'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-2936195315405375090</id><published>2010-04-20T02:54:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T02:54:00.312-05:00</updated><title type='text'>welcome to the club</title><content type='html'>Corky called Cherry to tell&amp;nbsp; her about Cody. She wanted to meet them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm so sorry." She was all hugs which irritated him to&amp;nbsp;no end. Especially, with Ella there in the room. He was still at her house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corky pushed her off of him, hoping not to look to strange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I guess it was all for nothing." Corky told her. "He doesn't know your sister at all."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't say that. I think he does." Cherry was so mysterious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But he doesn't. My brother is mental. You better stay away from him." Corky informed her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I want to. I know I should, but shouldn't someone be on his side?" She was concerned about him. She wanted to see him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know how long he'll be in that psych ward. They think he tried to kill himself." Corky reminded her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He's a good guy. He really is. And I'm glad my sister doesn't actually know him." She sighed. "Because, he's too good for her. He really is."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corky just winced. Was it that he thought everyone was psycho now? Or maybe Cherry was really psycho. He didn't want his brother to have a thing to do with her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-2936195315405375090?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/2936195315405375090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=2936195315405375090&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/2936195315405375090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/2936195315405375090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/04/welcome-to-club.html' title='welcome to the club'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-4991306668638770702</id><published>2010-04-18T03:44:00.017-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-18T03:44:00.714-05:00</updated><title type='text'>shouldn't this be over already</title><content type='html'>Cody wanted to believe it wasn't true. Couldn't be. We're they insane here at this hospital? Putting him in a straight jacket because they believed he might hurt himself. They just made it worse. They did. It was as if his world had faded to white. And he didn't believe he had anything to do with it. This was Maddie's fault.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is she here now?" Asked one of the males in white coats. He had his little net notebooks with him so he could put in all the information that Cody had to give.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No." He wished she was because she was his super hero. She would get him out of here. Why wasn't she? Why couldn't she just appear and do it? That was not Maddie. Of course, she was just mad that Cherry had shown an interest in him. What if she was made up too?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, no...then Corky would be mental too. Damn, they were all crazy at his house. No telling what they'd do to his mom. She was a nut. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He thought of her screaming in the hallway. Didn't she see blood all the time? She was a nurse, wasn't she? Talk about giving him a panic attack. She'd freaked him out. Then Cory showing up. Now he out did Cass, these days. Showing up at the right time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now there was this business..You see her and then you don't?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, something like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I didn't do anything!" He kept telling them. "I don't know why I have to be here?" His neck was bandaged up. He felt fine. He wanted to go home. But as it was. He just wore a white gown. Barefooted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We want to do a catscan." The doctor said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cody didn't like the sound of that. What was that?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-4991306668638770702?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/4991306668638770702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=4991306668638770702&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4991306668638770702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4991306668638770702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/04/shouldnt-this-be-over-already.html' title='shouldn&apos;t this be over already'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-4025694873478561622</id><published>2010-04-16T01:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-16T01:25:00.301-05:00</updated><title type='text'>why can't it be like that</title><content type='html'>"I don't believe you." Dil wasn't sure he wanted to listen to another word coming out of Brick's mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, you said you wanted to know." Brick nursed on his beer at Dex's, after work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dil winced. That wasn't exactly what he wanted to know. Was it? The fact that Brick had kissed Cass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you sure he was even conscious?" Dil squinted hard. He knew how Cass was. And that was one thing that never happened when he was around Cass. A kiss. Yes, he'd finagled ways of getting near him in his sleep from time to time. Half the time it was just a dare. A little something to irritate Cass, to no end. But it never happened. It would never happen. Of course, those days were over. He'd never do childish shit like that again. He was grownup now. Obviously, Brick wasn't. "I can't believe you'd be that hard up."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is Cass we're talking about." Brick reminded him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So." Dil swelled a frown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I mean, he's Cass." Brick exaggerated now. "I can't help it, if I feel this way about him. I just think he's miserable right now. And- and maybe, you know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Stop it." Dil closed his eyes. "Its not like that. He loves Cady. You have to leave him, alone."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But-"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, he's taken and you have to accept that." Dil glared at Brick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But-but..remember how you, you know, what's his face-" Brick scowled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Rafe?" Dil winced. "Hell, you can't even remember my boyfriend's name."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Maybe there's a reason, I can't." Brick looked away and asked for another beer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What are you talking about?" Dil didn't like where this conversation was going. Brick was now bringing up a very vague past. He wasn't sure if he was talking about just Rafe or about them. "You. You, were so, I can't do this. This is just wrong, crap&amp;nbsp;about me. And granted, it was one time. One time, making out at the park with you. And I was just doing you a favor, cause I was afraid you were&amp;nbsp;too drunk and might go off with that old dude, who probably would have given you something. Like a disease."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You didn't wait for me."&amp;nbsp; He shrugged as if that was his excuse to why he'd done what he'd done with Cass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You didn't exactly return my messages, either. You were always so vague. Those stupid texts. "what are you doing?" Then I'd tell you and hear nothing. Absolutely nothing." Dil informed him. "And..and Rafe, leave him out of it. I didn't take him away from Cady. I didn't I just helped a situation out. They weren't happy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, how do you know, if maybe Cass and Cady, aren't happy, either?"&amp;nbsp; Brick glared at him as if he had a&amp;nbsp;mission to do and he better let him do it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-4025694873478561622?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/4025694873478561622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=4025694873478561622&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4025694873478561622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4025694873478561622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/04/why-cant-it-be-like-that.html' title='why can&apos;t it be like that'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-7796489018266577669</id><published>2010-04-14T02:15:00.019-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T02:15:00.181-05:00</updated><title type='text'>frustrated</title><content type='html'>Corky couldn't believe what happened when he'd gotten back to the house with Ella. All the cop cars. The lights flashing. As it was he'd gone home with Ella. He stayed at the house the next few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Cass called him, it was about their mother and how her blood sugar was too high. Immediately, Corky vowed no more sugar for him. He didn't really talk about Cody. Naturally, when he tried to contact him, he couldn't get him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He didn't know what to think about his brother. What if no one knew the troubles he had? Then when Cory called him, he told him exactly what happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And you didn't think, I didn't see what was happening?" He was frustrated with all of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sorry. I didn't&amp;nbsp; know." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Cass wouldn't even tell me!" Corky hated being left out. "I hate this family!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, you don't. Everybody is just stressed." Cory told him. "I'm sure Cass didn't mean to leave you out. He's got a lot going on. He started a new job. He hasn't slept in days. No one meant to leave you out. We'd always have your back. Its just Cody's gone a little mental."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Does this mean I have it too?" Corky was concerned, thinking he might evolve into a werewolf yet. Or worse, apparently you didn't even see it coming and it was already there taking over your mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Lets try not to dwell on it, OK. And just hope Cody's going to be fine." Cory was optimistic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corky didn't know though. It was all so crazy. He didn't like crazy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-7796489018266577669?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/7796489018266577669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=7796489018266577669&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/7796489018266577669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/7796489018266577669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/04/frustrated.html' title='frustrated'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-4062287194328131149</id><published>2010-04-12T01:01:00.025-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-12T01:01:00.153-05:00</updated><title type='text'>just a bit of misery</title><content type='html'>Cass couldn't believe this could be happening. Here he was. His Mom gripping his hand. Cory was on the other side. She was&amp;nbsp;gripping his hand, as well. And they were stuck. Which seemed hours at the hospital. Her blood pressure was high and then there were the diabetes she wasn't taking control of, either. But this wasn't about her, after all. This was about Cody and she needed them both for support.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Momma, can you please let go?" Cass winced wanting his hand back. He wasn't sure he had the stamina to endure all this. He was so tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No." And she wouldn't. The doctor was talking about Cody's psychological evaluation. They had reason to believe he'd inflected the pain on himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's just crazy!" His Mom looked at the doctor as if she were psycho, herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is there any mental illness in the family you'd like to share." The doctor said out of nowhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cass just smiled as he looked at his mother. She was crazy. Talking constantly. Never throwing anything out. Even the fridge was a mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the doctor&amp;nbsp;mentioned schizophrenia. Cass didn't know what to think or say. This was serious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No!" She didn't believe it. Squeezing his and his brother's hand. "He's my beautiful boy! He's perfect in&amp;nbsp;every way. He gets good grades. He's a good boy. He just met the wrong girl. Its all her fault. All of it!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cass looked at her wondering if Cody knew any of those things that his mother had said about him. He thought she was too busy to notice. Of course, by his mother's reaction, Cass was afraid they might have to put her on drugs too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-4062287194328131149?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/4062287194328131149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=4062287194328131149&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4062287194328131149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4062287194328131149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/04/just-bit-of-misery.html' title='just a bit of misery'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-5658380939050312995</id><published>2010-04-10T02:47:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-10T07:57:16.565-05:00</updated><title type='text'>They call it chivalry</title><content type='html'>Cory guessed this was as good as anytime to bring the wedding invitation over to the house. Under no circumstances were Joy's family helping with their wedding. Joy had made up the invitations herself on the computer. A picture of them together, embraces and well, silly in love, he guessed. He hadn't figured her to go thrifty on him all the sudden, but that girl could cut corners. As it was they were getting married in the park by the veranda in three weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here he was, home, and the first thing he heard was a scream. It was his mother. He knew it clearly. He heard her forceful steps in the house, and the next thing he knew. Silence. He hurried in. His mom laid unconscious on the floor. Cory checked her pulse. She was fine. He looked up to see his brother Cody standing in the bathroom doorway with this thing stuck in&amp;nbsp;his neck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What is that?" He winced as he got closer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cody wouldn't say anything but just give&amp;nbsp;a slight shake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She's in my room." He&amp;nbsp;finally said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What are you talking about, Cody?" He went to have a look to see what he meant, but there was no one. He needed to tend to this object hanging from Cody's neck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sorry I'm bleeding so much. I didn't think she'd do it, but-" Cody blinked tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Its OK, its not bleeding that much."&amp;nbsp; Cory stayed calm and took a closer look at the inflection. He grabbed a bath towel in the bathroom. He pulled the metal object out quick and pushed the towel on it. It was really bleeding now. "Just hold it, steady." He whipped out his phone and called 911.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cody just nodded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How did she get in here?" Cory asked after he got off the phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dunno." Cody was still slightly shaking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Cody, can you tell me anything else?" Cory kept questioning. He looked back at their mother on the floor. He wondered what she saw.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-5658380939050312995?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/5658380939050312995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=5658380939050312995&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/5658380939050312995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/5658380939050312995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/04/they-call-it-chivalry.html' title='They call it chivalry'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-2816801400727747223</id><published>2010-04-08T01:17:00.023-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-08T01:17:00.553-05:00</updated><title type='text'>there will be blood</title><content type='html'>"Good, he's gone," Maddie said as Cody was trying to work on some homework he hadn't gotten too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How did you get in here?" Cody was starting to believe Maddie arrived just because he was bored. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Does it matter? You're brother's gone." She tore up a page of long equations he'd been writing out the last hour or so. "You should just kill him."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What are you doing!" He was bitter with her and the math paper. "I'm not doing anything for you." He winced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I say you are." She looked at him seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I'm not." He tried to peace the paper back together. "He's there for me, when you're not."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Because you're a baby, that's why." Her frown was slight but banked on evilness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Can't you do better than that." He looked her in the eye. "In case you didn't know, I'm going out with your sister." He was matter of fact as if she could have her fits somewhere, else, not here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You wouldn't." She winced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But I would. She wants to see me in the daylight. Not in the dark and secret places. What are you, a vampire?" He got in her face then, still pissed about his math paper in a mess. But he might could fix it. Tape it together and make a copy of it on the&amp;nbsp;copier in his step-dad's office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next thing he knew he felt a piercing, pulsating pain between his neck and shoulder. Cody shook with fear as he almost lost his balance and hit the wall. There was blood. A lot of it..he noticed, but he didn't know how bad it was until he got to the bathroom mirror. His eyes openned wide. He'd been stabbed with his Geometry compass.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-2816801400727747223?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/2816801400727747223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=2816801400727747223&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/2816801400727747223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/2816801400727747223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/04/there-will-be-blood.html' title='there will be blood'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-3056732116181134225</id><published>2010-04-06T03:03:00.029-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T03:03:00.347-05:00</updated><title type='text'>can't always be right</title><content type='html'>"Well, what's the matter?" Ella looked Corky over, who was sitting with her at his house in the den. Lately, he didn't want to go anywhere or do anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nothing." He looked straight ahead at the TV. He clicked the remote. "My brother says &lt;em&gt;Slackers&lt;/em&gt; is really good. I dunno anyone in it, though."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's that guy from &lt;em&gt;How I met your mother&lt;/em&gt;." Ella kept her eye on the TV. Nothing else to do. "What's the matter?" She was back to that question, as she looked at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He clicked off the TV then and looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "Do I look fat to you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not really." She shrugged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sorry. Really, I don't ask stuff like that, but lately." He scowled then. "OK, I ate like six boxes of Girl Scout cookies, all because of Cody."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you sure he was the reason?" Ella smiled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes. He makes me nervous." Corky squinted hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How so?" She looked at him as if he needed to tell her everything. She expected him too. He was her boyfriend, after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I have to keep an eye on him like a hawk. I never have anytime for myself. I should be out, doing things." He shrugged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Then that's what you should be doing." She took his hand then. It was so warm and just the right moisture, just like she remembered. Only, he usually held her hand first.&amp;nbsp;"You can't be his keeper. He's almost 17. He's older and he's suppose to be mature."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But is he? Really?" That was the question that baffled Corky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She kissed him then, hoping that would help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corky smiled as if he woke up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Lets go for a walk," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was more like it. They'd walk all the way to the soccer field. Kiss at the swings a good ten minutes, their special place and walk home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We could get ice cream." She suggested.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, sure." Now he sounded like the Corky she knew.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-3056732116181134225?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/3056732116181134225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=3056732116181134225&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/3056732116181134225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/3056732116181134225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/04/cant-always-be-right.html' title='can&apos;t always be right'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-7851136478797866623</id><published>2010-04-04T02:16:00.012-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-04T02:16:00.509-05:00</updated><title type='text'>what could go wrong</title><content type='html'>"Well, you're not gonna go out with her,&amp;nbsp;are you?" Corky was furious with Cody. He saw it when it&amp;nbsp;happened. The kiss. And he knew Cody was smitten in some way, because he said nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Cody? Are you listening to me?" Corky gave him a little shove in the kitchen. He needed a Girl Scout cookie fix. Hopefully, his mom hadn't eaten them all up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah. Of course.....not." Cody winced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You would. You can't wait. Cause you know she's into you. How's Maddie gonna feel about that, huh?" Corky found the hidden box of mint cookies behind the fridge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Maybe Maddie won't find out." Cody looked at him blankly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you out of your mind, Cody?" Corky wolfed down six mint cookies then and drank from the fridge milk carton.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Cherry's really nice. Maybe I'm her type... more than Maddie's, you know." Cody shrugged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She thinks you know something, Cody." Corky was serious and ready to start on more cookies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, she doesn't." He winced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Jesus, you're such a dumb ass." Corky shook his head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Some girls find me rather attractive." He said so calmly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They just don't know you, like I do." Corky cracked up. If there was anyone unlucky in love, it was definitely Cody or so Corky thought.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-7851136478797866623?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/7851136478797866623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=7851136478797866623&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/7851136478797866623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/7851136478797866623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/04/what-could-go-wrong.html' title='what could go wrong'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-8454537117471441991</id><published>2010-04-02T02:07:00.021-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-03T12:34:32.039-05:00</updated><title type='text'>surprise</title><content type='html'>Cherry stopped Cody after school. He figured to question him about any Maddie sightings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, I just wanted to talk." She was all smiles as if maybe she wanted him for her boyfriend. Of course, she was out of high school. He didn't really think he'd be her type.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OK." Cody was reluctant. "So what do you want to talk to me about?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I guess I just wanted to get to know someone my sister is in love with. Evidently." She leaned in as if they might be more than friends already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cody didn't know what to think. His loyalty was to Maddie wasn't it, but then again, she wasn't exactly talking to him lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's to know?" Cody smiled as he found himself getting a ride home from Cherry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You seem so sweet. Not like Maddie's type at all." She told him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's Maddie's type?" Cody wondered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She likes'm rough. You know, guys who beat other guys up. That kind of thing. Low-lives. Drug dealers." Cherry informed him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're not into drugs?" She asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No." He winced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She pulled up in front of Cody's house then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you know what's good for you, you'll stay away from Maddie. Really, she's no good for you. You deserve better. A lot better, Cody." Cherry looked at seriously, and then she kissed him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-8454537117471441991?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/8454537117471441991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=8454537117471441991&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/8454537117471441991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/8454537117471441991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/04/surprise.html' title='surprise'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-5403446942370452316</id><published>2010-03-30T01:43:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T01:43:00.815-05:00</updated><title type='text'>not a problem</title><content type='html'>Dil had found some work for Brick down at the shop. He was cleaning cars. It was pretty self explanatory, and Brick could do it. He wasn't lazy about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So how are things, over there at Cass and Cady's?" Dil wanted to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Fine. I guess. I just try to stay out of the way." Brick shrugged as if he were only visiting, but it felt like it would be a long stay to Dil if Brick had his way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're really trying to stay out of the way?" Dil wasn't sure he believed that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah." Brick winced as if it had to be true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not honing in on Cass, or anything?" Dil wanted to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Honing in? What are you talking about?" Brick definitely had that dumb look down to perfection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I dunno. I know you're crazy about him." Dil winced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Am not." Brick squinted with a scowl that that was not true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So what is up with you, my friend?" Dil needed to get to the bottom of this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nothing. I swear. Nothing is up with me. Really." Brick was bitter about it, but Dil had an idea that there must be something, or he wouldn't be here. "Can't I be where my friends are?" He looked worried when he said it. Dil hoped this didn't mean trouble was following him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-5403446942370452316?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/5403446942370452316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=5403446942370452316&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/5403446942370452316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/5403446942370452316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/03/not-problem.html' title='not a problem'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-693359340517030733</id><published>2010-03-28T02:29:00.015-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T09:22:53.317-05:00</updated><title type='text'>early to rise</title><content type='html'>Honestly, Cass could feel it now. He could not wait for the weekend. It had been a long week. He was dragging. Perhaps, it was the full days in the new work area. He didn't know there would be that many people to feed in the building. But everybody came. Even Joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What are you doing here?" She'd asked on the second day he was there, cooking up breakfast for people to watch how he flipped an egg and scorched hash browns to perfection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What does it look like?" He didn't have to like her anymore even if she were kind of family. He guessed. He didn't think anymore about that baby bump of hers..being his. He was cool with his brother Cory and her, but seriously, he didn't need to see that look on her face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He'd cut her off short, but she wasn't rude. She asked for the daily special, hash-browns with a fried egg on top. Naturally, he never saw Cady until lunch, and she was giving him the silent treatment still, over Brick, who had moved into the guestroom. It wasn't like he was stinking the place up. He was pretty much on his laptop everyday looking for work. He guessed, she couldn't stand for him to have a friend around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The more he worked, the more he thought, maybe this would never work out with Cady. And it wasn't his fault. She was just to set in her ways. That's all. And he hated that about her. He knew he couldn't change her. But, hell, he'd put a lot of effort in this. He didn't want anyone else. Never had..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really, he was starting to think he was the idiot in all this. Or maybe he just needed a really long rest. Yeah, he felt like sleeping all weekend long.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-693359340517030733?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/693359340517030733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=693359340517030733&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/693359340517030733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/693359340517030733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/03/early-to-rise.html' title='early to rise'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-3692280277025493717</id><published>2010-03-26T03:43:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-26T03:43:00.250-05:00</updated><title type='text'>so you say</title><content type='html'>Cody wasn't sure he liked being alone because that seemed to be when Maddie would show up. And it was beginning to make him nervous because he always was persuaded by her to do things she wanted to do. He couldn't tell her NO. He just couldn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe he loved her. Maybe it was just easier that way. Maybe he didn't know anymore. Could he be going crazy? Could he?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corky had been there for him when no one else was. He'd even sleep with him. Imagine that. His little brother sleeping with him. That was not suppose to happen. That was crazy in its self.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You just have to stop it." Cody decided. "I can't have you every step of the way." He could take care of himself. After all, he was 16. What could somebody do for him that was almost 13.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, but I keep her away, don't I?" Corky made it sound so simple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah." He guessed. But maybe he really did want to see Maddie. Maybe he needed her. He couldn't decide. "But you know." He looked at his small bed. Spring was warming up. Corky was just a little too close to comfort. "Don't you have a girlfriend or something? What would she think?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't care what she thinks." Corky was going to wash the sheets since Cody never did. Cody looked around his room. His litte brother was so tidy, compared to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I need my space." Cody hugged himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, do you?" Corky rolled his eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cody's teeth clenched. His brother was not his keeper, but at least he kept his clothes washed now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-3692280277025493717?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/3692280277025493717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=3692280277025493717&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/3692280277025493717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/3692280277025493717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/03/so-you-say.html' title='so you say'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-7578438108099165483</id><published>2010-03-24T02:49:00.013-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-24T13:41:03.744-05:00</updated><title type='text'>it can never be simple</title><content type='html'>"GREAT!" Cady was about to explode. Somebody was already making themselves home on the couch. "This is just great! Cass!" She had him cornered in their bedroom. "You start a new job and bring home!" Her teeth clinched. "Brick!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What is wrong with Brick?" He didn't understand. Cass winced as if she was the idiot. Not him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Look, you're starting a new job, and...and, God! What about us! What about us, Cass!" She was ready to shove him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What about us? We have the room. Better, he's here than over at Dil's. They don't need that right now." He was getting ready for bed anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't trust him." She scowled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's to trust? He needs a place to crash and...just let him, Cady." Cass was almost begging but not really. "He'll be just fine."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cady wasn't really worried about Brick. She was worried about Cass with Brick. She went to brush her teeth. Just when she thought she had him grownup, it was back to having to nag him about everything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-7578438108099165483?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/7578438108099165483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=7578438108099165483&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/7578438108099165483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/7578438108099165483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/03/it-can-never-be-simple.html' title='it can never be simple'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-2707520285777424943</id><published>2010-03-22T01:59:00.012-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-22T01:59:00.328-05:00</updated><title type='text'>before the bomb falls</title><content type='html'>Dil's cell rang while he was out with Cass. It was Brick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What happened?" Dil hadn't heard from him in weeks. He thought&amp;nbsp;Brick was back at the university. He guessed. Brick never would say. Exactly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You need a place to stay?" Dil listened more. Brick had gotten kicked out of school. For good. Evidently. He didn't even ask what he did. "Well, come on over then."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Who was that?" Cass asked when he got off his cell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Brick." Dil shrugged as if weren't a big deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Brick?" Cass looked at him sort of cross. "You sure you should have done that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He's a friend."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But what about Rafe?" Cass sounded as if this was a mistake, already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He'll be fine with it." Dil winced and ordered another beer. It wasn't long til Brick appeared. Cass was congenial. So was Brick. Like old times. Possibly. Dil looked at the two of them as if they were old pals. They'd only gotten together once. Dil looked at Cass as if Cass was totally out of his element with Brick. They were buds now. Just what kind of buddy was Brick really looking for? Came to Dil's mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were chatty. Dil just smiled. Were either of them really on the same page. Brick might be thinking something totally different from Cass. Dil choked on a laugh. He would not get into it. They'd both tell him he was wrong even if he might be right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Tell you what." Cass looked at Dil then Brick. "How about Brick stays with us. You need to ask Rafe if its all right."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dil just smiled thinking this was going to mean trouble, and Cass didn't even see it coming with Cady.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-2707520285777424943?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/2707520285777424943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=2707520285777424943&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/2707520285777424943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/2707520285777424943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/03/before-bomb-falls.html' title='before the bomb falls'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-5800215407208595657</id><published>2010-03-20T01:43:00.022-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T01:43:00.561-05:00</updated><title type='text'>moving on</title><content type='html'>Rafe wanted his Dad to know about Dil. By the looks of it lately, Rafe wasn't sure if his Dad was in the best of health.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So you want to marry him." His Dad looked a bit sleepy as he rested with so many pillows behind his head in bed to sit him up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I guess. Some day." Rafe was in no hurry. "I feel like its the next step, you know." Rafe stood there alone. His Mom was out doing one of her charity things at the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't wait too long, son." His Dad reached for his hand then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well." Honestly, he didn't know the first thing about gay marriage. It wasn't something he'd looked into. He'd never looked into any kind of weddings, actually. "You know, its not that big of a deal."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I hope you haven't said that to Dillon, he'd be so upset." His Dad told him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, right, its just, you know, best not to mention this to Mom." Rafe remained even lipped. It was always hard to be himself around her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't you worry about her." He coughed then. Rafe was afraid he'd cough up blood the way he was coughing, but he didn't. "Now, what you two really need to do is find yourself a home."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We have a home." Rafe winced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, that's a gas station you got there." His Dad was concerned."You find something nice. And descent so some day when you want to start a family, you'll be ready." His Dad said he'd help him in every-way. "I'd give you one right now, but I know it wouldn't be to your likening, because you're a sensible man. You like to work for everything you get. And when you find something, then maybe you could think about renting out Dillon's place."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Huh." Rafe just smiled. His Dad was always a step ahead of him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-5800215407208595657?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/5800215407208595657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=5800215407208595657&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/5800215407208595657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/5800215407208595657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/03/moving-on.html' title='moving on'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-3237141282913750797</id><published>2010-03-18T01:30:00.027-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-18T01:30:01.180-05:00</updated><title type='text'>a slippery slope</title><content type='html'>"Come on, you can do it." Dil was serious. He'd met Cass after work at Dex's for&amp;nbsp;a beer. Rafe was off seeing his Dad who was still recuperating from his last stay in the hospital. "Just have to be old fashioned, Cass, ask Cady's Dad for her hand in marriage."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cass gave him a grimace as he stared at the foam on his mug of beer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you know what that old man does?" Cass looked at Dil then. "He sits around with all these bible scholars in the park, smoking cigarettes and talking religion. Its like he's this old fart with all these young guys captivated with his words."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sounds kind of gay to me." Dil nursed his beer then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I dunno. Its like women are pretty much&amp;nbsp;second class to him. And God knows, what kind of bastard I am, seeing I have never actually met my Dad."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you want to?" Dill winced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hell no. Why would I want to?" Cass squinted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I dunno, cause you've always been a really good Dad to all your brothers. I think about the first time I went to your house, it was like they worshiped you." Dil reminded him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ha, yeah, right." Cass played with a napkin then as if he&amp;nbsp;didn't believe a word Dil said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I mean, its stuff like that, that matters. You're a good influence, and well, it kind of rubs off on all of us." Dil smiled then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dil, I'm not saint." Cass shook his head. "I dunno. This stuff with Cady's family...." He sighed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, you are gonna be a part of her family." Dil told him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, just like you're a part of Rafe's family." Cass looked at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's different." Dil nodded. "They don't have to see me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, you like it that way, because you don't have to see them." Cass sipped his beer then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dil knew Cass was making this harder than it was. His engagement to Cady.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-3237141282913750797?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/3237141282913750797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=3237141282913750797&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/3237141282913750797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/3237141282913750797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/03/slippery-slope.html' title='a slippery slope'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-8277859037796524852</id><published>2010-03-16T01:40:00.017-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-16T01:40:00.324-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Daisy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/S50xTwixE3I/AAAAAAAAAP4/R6NJvjKPaqk/s1600-h/daisy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/S50xTwixE3I/AAAAAAAAAP4/R6NJvjKPaqk/s320/daisy.jpg" vt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Cody hadn't expected to see Daisy so cheerful, lately. Evidently, she was a lot happier without him. She was doing great. He guessed it was a good thing she broke up with him when she did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I heard you've been skipping class?" She approached Cody&amp;nbsp;as if she might be his big sister now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's it to you?" He'd be as cold as possible. No need to make her think that he might miss her, because he didn't. Mattie was way more to him than she'd ever be. After all,&amp;nbsp;Daisy could hardly stand to play video games with him as it was. When he thought of it now, they were so little kids. There was nothing grownup at all about their relationship. Whatever was it that he liked about her, anyway?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Its just," She looked him over as if to find any trace of what she used to see in him. Her boyfriend. "I worry about you. I do."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why?" He glared at her as if she meant nothing to him now. Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I dunno." She hugged her books tightly. "Because, I do still care about you, Cody. I want you to be OK."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So you think I can't be OK without you, is that it?" Immediately, Cody was defensive. How could she think that she had any power over him. She never did. She never would. After all, Mattie was the only one for him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-8277859037796524852?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/8277859037796524852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=8277859037796524852&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/8277859037796524852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/8277859037796524852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/03/daisy.html' title='Daisy'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/S50xTwixE3I/AAAAAAAAAP4/R6NJvjKPaqk/s72-c/daisy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-1265899623420849745</id><published>2010-03-14T14:54:00.037-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-14T14:54:00.671-05:00</updated><title type='text'>afraid so</title><content type='html'>Cady didn't know how to tell Cass this, but she did not want to drive to work with him in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What? You can't be seen with a cook?" Cass glared at her as he was getting the white chef uniform already for work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not exactly," she winced. "Its just you have to be there by 4:30 in the morning for the breakfast rush."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So," he shrugged. "Mean's I'll be home by 3." He smiled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, about that, I don't get off til 5." She reminded him. "We can't drive together, you know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why can't you just go in early?" He shrugged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Because, I work the phones for one thing, and I can't be doing that if no one is there." She glared at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Fine." He shrugged as he ironed at the&amp;nbsp;crisp white jacket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You'll have plenty of time for Halo, all by yourself." She smiled as if he might enjoy having the house to himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Possibly." He was even lipped. He went to put his uniform away then and got the iron and other stuff out of the way. "Look, there's something else we need to get done."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We do?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Have you forgot about the engagement ring?" He looked back at her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She looked at him blankly. She sighed. "Well, you haven't exactly-"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, I have. I said we should, you said we should." He looked back at her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I don't like your attitude." She winced and went to put some laundry in the wash then. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?" He followed her. "What am I suppose to do?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do I have to spell everything out for you?" She looked back at him on the basement stairwell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Evidently, because I don't know what book you're in, half the time." He leaned there staring at her. "First its all, oh, we can only be friends. Then its like, well, just our little secret, and you know how that went? Now, we're moved in together, and I still feel like we are in some sort of stale mate. You won't budge."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Its you who won't budge!" She pushed in buttons then and started the washing machine as if she was attacking it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Me! I've been waiting for you. FOREVER. To make up your mind!" He snapped back as if this was an argument, long time coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You just plod along, happy as can be, you don't have any expectations of where we are going." She winced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, I do. I want to marry you. I have since," he sighed. "The moment I met you." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, what, you were like 10?" She found that hard to believe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Something like that." He shrugged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Maybe we just know each other too well." She crossed her arms and leaned against the washing machine. "Things are just too casual for you, you know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, no," he shook his head. "Its you who thinks you can only fall for someone rich who's going to buy you a castle or something."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So." She winced. "I found out Friday, on FACEBOOK my friend from high school, Lily is getting a brand new house before they get married. She and him are living with her family until its ready."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cass came over and sat on the dryer then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, yeah, I could see that, me and you moving in with your parents. How long would that last?" He touched a wisp of her bangs then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cady just sighed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Look, I can make a big production out of this, if you want. I'll put a ring in a fortune cookie if that would make you happy, but I don't think it would. You would say, &lt;em&gt;this isn't the ring I wanted&lt;/em&gt;. Its just..I want us to do something before its too, late." His fingers intertwined with her. "Come on, get dressed up. We'll go look at rings. You find what you want and it'll be one step closer to getting married."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You have to talk to my Dad first." She winced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you crazy?" He got off the dryer then. "He hates me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You still have to do it." Cady shrugged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'd rather go to the dentist and have my wisdom teeth pulled." He stared back sadly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-1265899623420849745?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/1265899623420849745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=1265899623420849745&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/1265899623420849745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/1265899623420849745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/03/afraid-so.html' title='afraid so'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-627242909455646122</id><published>2010-03-12T01:53:00.016-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T01:53:00.426-06:00</updated><title type='text'>mulling it over</title><content type='html'>"Hahahahaa..." Corky thought the whole Ella thing with Cass was quite funny. He needed a laugh. It was hard being his brother's keeper. He felt he was keeping Cody in prison, lately. He'd jammed his bedroom window, for good,&amp;nbsp;so he couldn't get out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He'd hate if the house caught on fire. How would they get out? He'd even started sleeping with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I would have felt&amp;nbsp;awful if you know- I had kissed your brother." Ella looked to be in her own little world as they sat on the livingroom couch at Corky's house, ready&amp;nbsp;to watch wrestling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, right." Corky almost laughed, again. He was not jealous in the least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So how's Cody?" Ella looked at Corky then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I wish I knew." Corky sighed. "Other night, he thought she was here. I swear I combed this house for her. I don't know how she would have gotten away. Really, I don't."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He was going to go off with her?" Ella looked at him intently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, I was in the kitchen." Corky was about to reenact it for her, but doubted she wanted to him climb up on the kitchen counter to get something off the fridge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And you didn't see her?" She looked at him wide eyed as if she was trying to figure it out, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nope. Not an inch of her." Corky stared right back at&amp;nbsp;Ella as if he quite enjoyed all her questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Man, she must be fast." Ella nodded&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Maybe." Corky shrugged. He sat back then and put his arm around Ella. He didn't want to dare mention what he thought of the Mattie situation. Ella might think he was the crazy one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-627242909455646122?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/627242909455646122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=627242909455646122&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/627242909455646122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/627242909455646122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/03/mulling-it-over.html' title='mulling it over'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-760237617691650456</id><published>2010-03-10T01:41:00.022-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T06:29:15.382-06:00</updated><title type='text'>it just won't be the same</title><content type='html'>Ella wouldn't let go of Cass' waist. She was devasted with the news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're leaving us!" She bellowed. She couldn't help but act like she was three again. He was the best part of her family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't take it like this." He'd hugged her enough, she guessed. But still this was not what she wanted to hear from him. This was awful news, and she just couldn't let go yet. "You know, you are old enough to take care of yourself. Your brother too."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't want too." She winced. They were in her family's kitchen. He had the key to the car he drove and the house keys. He was going to give it her Dad.&amp;nbsp; Cady was there too who looked as if she'd walked in on a Larry King show that she didn't want to be subjected too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ella, please stop making a drama production out of this." Her Dad said as he tried to&amp;nbsp;pull her away, but she was hanging on. If she could choose anyone to be her Dad, it would be Cass. Always would be. He understood her. He talked to her about his problems too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Here's the keys." He had the house keys, the car keys. All of it. Ella looked back at her Dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No. You keep the car. You earned it." Her father told him. "And, and as far as the house keys. You keep those too, if I ever lock myself out of the house, I'll know who to call."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But I can't accept the car. I couldn't. I really shouldn't." Cass nodded. "Besides, I'm going to be working in the same building as Cady. We only need one car."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That car is your car, Cass." He wouldn't take no for an answer. "I gave you that car. I wish it one of the fancy ones, you deserved a whole lot better. That car would be just taking up space in the driveway. You're keeping that car."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"All right. I need to pay you back somehow." Cass finally gave up. Ella gave him another squeeze. For a second Ella thought she might be hanging&amp;nbsp;on to Corky. It was a nice thought to think Corky was going to be&amp;nbsp;Cass one day. She almost French kissed him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-760237617691650456?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/760237617691650456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=760237617691650456&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/760237617691650456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/760237617691650456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/03/it-just-wont-be-same.html' title='it just won&apos;t be the same'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-5468144936817718067</id><published>2010-03-08T03:21:00.019-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T07:37:04.373-06:00</updated><title type='text'>no need to be alarmed</title><content type='html'>Corky was thinking about the carmel coconut cookies from the Girl Scouts. He knew right where mom had hid them in the kitchen. Because they were her favorites too. In fact, he knew she had her own stash in her closet which he would not bother. But the ones in the kitche in the breadbox on top of the fridge were his, even if his name wasn't on them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he creeped down the hall, crawled up on the kitchen counter and found the bread box on top of the fridge. Just as he got down with the box he'd opened and bit into a cookie, he heard something. He stopped crunching. Standing like a statue, he saw his brother Cody in the moonlight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're not going anywhere!" Corky turned on the kitchen light then. There was Cody in his hoody, jeans and sneakers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Corky!" Cody's cover had been blown, but he was alone. Cody looked around as if someone was there beside him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's wrong?" Corky winced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You scared Mattie!" Cody winced in a whisper as he hurried back to his room. Corky followed. He wanted to see this mysterious person. But she wasn't there, either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She must have climbed out of my window." Cody scowled. Corky went to check it. But it glued tight. He didn't see how.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You've had that window jammed since October." Corky reminded him. Besides there were no footprints in the snow outside. How in the world would a girl survive out there in this cold, wondered Corky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Its your fault." Cody's eyes lit as he pressed his index finger into his chest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corky rolled his eyes. Looked in the closet then his room. He looked about every room but his Mom and Step-Dad's room. He was certain she hadn't gone in there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you sure she's even real?" Corky asked his brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Of course, she's real." His brother said as harsh as he could without being loud. "I'm not crazy!" Cody was so certain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corky just looked at Cody. "Want a cookie?" He'd stay up with his brother as long as it took.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-5468144936817718067?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/5468144936817718067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=5468144936817718067&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/5468144936817718067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/5468144936817718067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/03/no-need-to-be-alarmed.html' title='no need to be alarmed'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-8193012129197777270</id><published>2010-03-06T02:47:00.020-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T09:53:41.359-06:00</updated><title type='text'>wake up</title><content type='html'>Cody wished he could tell Mattie's sister more, but he didn't know anything. He didn't. Mattie was just so tricky. Showing up at the strangest times. He didn't understand it. He hated the fact that he was waiting every moment for her these days. As it was, he hadn't seen her in forever. He couldn't quite remember the last time he'd seen her. He'd met her at a dark theater. She told him she knew a way that he wouldn't have to pay for her, and she just showed up once the movie started. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was freaky. How she'd been there waiting for him actually. Somewhere in the far corner so they could be alone. She just made him want her more. He felt like such an idiot because by the time the lights came up...she was gone. It was as if she had never been there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It had left him dazed and so confused. He couldn't remember if he'd eaten breakfast or anything, lately. He couldn't remember. At least, he wasn't doing anything bad with her. He guessed, perhaps, she was tired of him. Now she wasn't talking to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was hard trying to think what she'd want next. He wanted to forget her, but he couldn't. Nothing made him feel better. He didn't want to play his video games. He didn't want to eat. Cody couldn't wait to get over Mattie. And yet he wanted her back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I'm here." She whispered to him in the middle of the night when he was&amp;nbsp;asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mattie?" He whispered. He couldn't quite make her out in the dark. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Shh..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cody felt his heart beat pounding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Come on, what are you waiting for?" She sounded so playful even if she continued to whisper. She had some ideas, and time was wasting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-8193012129197777270?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/8193012129197777270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=8193012129197777270&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/8193012129197777270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/8193012129197777270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/03/wake-up.html' title='wake up'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-6696665315207752024</id><published>2010-03-04T02:16:00.022-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T02:16:00.469-06:00</updated><title type='text'>sweating it out</title><content type='html'>Rafe kept thinking what Mrs. Franklin had said. About a baby. That shocked him too. But he hadn't acted like he'd noticed. Instead, he ignored the whole thing because, well..he had work to do. And Dil didn't bring it up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They had a nice quiet dinner. Watched TV. Dil read some on&amp;nbsp;a book that Cady had given to him. She had introduced him to her favorite author Jane Austen. Of course, he looked like he was getting a headache from that expression on his face. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, Rafe knew it wasn't a good time to ask him if he needed glasses. Anyway, he seemed pretty happy when Rafe&amp;nbsp;took the book from him and told him he looked as if he could rest his eyes. So they'd had some fun and well, in the end. Rafe was sleeping&amp;nbsp;soundly before 11 p.m.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was then he dreamed Dil brought home some girl off the street who was gonna have a&amp;nbsp;baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She said we could keep it," Dil was all smiles and estatic, of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, you don't even know her? You don't know where that girl has been?" Rafe was concerned. But Dil was just happy that the girl wanted to give them her baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rafe was against it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, Did told him immediately it was too late. He said they'd take it, and they would. It was just too late to do anything about it. And then the girl went into labor, right on the couch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What are you doing!" Rafe wanted to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Having the baby! What are you thinking, we're doing!" Dil was really cross with him. He was going to have to deliver the baby without Rafe's help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"NO!" Rafe told him. "We are not having that baby on our couch! Do you know how filthy that couch is!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Its not that bad." Dil promised and before Rafe knew it, Dil&amp;nbsp;was handing him a little black puppy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's this?" He winced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She having puppies too." Dil told him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Puppies!" He kept bringing little black puppies to him. Finally a blonde one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I think there's a baby in there, somewhere." Dil promised. But when Rafe went to the couch there was a huge black dog with a litter of puppies. Dil was devastated there wasn't a baby, after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naturally, Rafe woke up in a sweat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-6696665315207752024?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/6696665315207752024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=6696665315207752024&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/6696665315207752024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/6696665315207752024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/03/sweating-it-out.html' title='sweating it out'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-235782754336909714</id><published>2010-03-02T02:06:00.017-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T02:06:00.221-06:00</updated><title type='text'>just a silly thought</title><content type='html'>Dil was in the state of shock. He just stared at Mrs. Franklin as she looked his ring over as if he'd just told her the news himself right there at the shop, but he hadn't. He didn't mind that she held his hand, but it was getting kind of funny. He was overcome with giggles. He hadn't meant too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My, that's a mighty fine ring, there." She grinned, looking up at him over her wire rimmed glasses. "This mean you and your significant will be making an overseas trip somewhere to bring you back a baby."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?" Dil winced wondering what she was talking about. He pulled back his hand. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You know, you two gonna adopt a baby now." She smiled. As if they should. It would be the right thing to do. It wasn't like they could go to the pound and pick something up for a minimum of 25 bucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Uh," The words stuck in his throat. He'd never thought that he and Rafe could do something like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, you know, you two would both make great Dads." She assured him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dil looked over at Rafe who wasn't in on the conversation. He was busy at the computer checking on a part somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Maybe some day." Dil took a deep breath. He smiled, thinking that she'd think he'd make a great Dad. That had never been a thought in his head, until now. She brought it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a very big HUH. He studied Rafe who was turned away from him. Now he would make a great dad. The perfect Dad. It made Dil a little melancholy at the thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I guess you two better set a date." Mrs. Franklin finally gave him back his hand so he could give her some change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A date?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A wedding date."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh." Dil winced. He really didn't see that happening. It was nice to be engaged, he supposed. It was a start. he didn't want to rush it. "Maybe this summer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good for you." She grinned. Dil grinned back. It was relief to get some positive reinforcement. Dil still couldn't quite believe some folks were really happy&amp;nbsp;for them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-235782754336909714?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/235782754336909714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=235782754336909714&amp;isPopup=true' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/235782754336909714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/235782754336909714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/03/just-silly-thought.html' title='just a silly thought'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-9070780464666837512</id><published>2010-02-28T01:15:00.013-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-28T10:23:35.575-06:00</updated><title type='text'>trying for a reaction</title><content type='html'>"Mom." Cory said for the fifth time. But she kept on and on about something at work. Her friend was getting divorced. There was a party coming up. She was just a wealth of information that he could care less about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom!" He was so close to saying SHUT UP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?" She looked at him as if she just noticed he was there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This thing with Cody, you should do something." Cory was worried. Corky had told him all about his behavior, lately. What if he went to far? What if he ended up in jail or worse, got himself killed over this girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What in the hell could I do!" She was defensive, immediately. "I can't control him. He's..he's 16."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And he has his driver's license and this girl sounds like bad news. You know, he could be in some serious trouble we don't know about." Cory told her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She started unloading the dishwasher then which was something she never did. It was one of the boy's jobs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You have to take this seriously. You have too." He didn't want to tell her, but he was afraid they'd wake up one day just to find out that Cody wasn't there. Then would she take this seriously? Honestly?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe she was just scared. Maybe she thought if Cody had a chance he'd just move Mattie right in. None of them had ever brought a girl home to live with them. He had to wonder, if Cody would be the first.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-9070780464666837512?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/9070780464666837512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=9070780464666837512&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/9070780464666837512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/9070780464666837512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/02/trying-for-reaction.html' title='trying for a reaction'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-5777495575615403522</id><published>2010-02-26T02:32:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-26T07:37:11.827-06:00</updated><title type='text'>get over it</title><content type='html'>"Well, you knew it. You knew it was gonna turn out like that." Cass was calloused about this situation with Cady's sister. He wished she'd stop worrying about it. It wouldn't do them any good. As it was he'd had an opportunity come up. A job offer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it would mean having to give up the manny job and classes. On the bright side, it would mean full time&amp;nbsp; and dental and health care. It was a job in Cady's building. So he guessed they could get by on one car, he'd have to give the Fit back even if he loved that car and felt it was his own. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he felt happy and sad. This drama with Angie would always be there. Just how was he going to snap Cady out of it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I wish you wouldn't make a big deal about her." After all, he had dinner to think about. There were the dishes to clean from the night before. If he wanted to be a bit of a drama king, he could bring that up. But he was being calm as he looked in the fridge for something to make dinner out of. He smelled the milk, seeing it had soured.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But he's with my sister and she's with a psycho. Have you forgotten what he did to our bed?" Cady shouted from the bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Maybe he's over you now." Cass shrugged as his dark hair grazed his eyes. He got out butter then. He would cook something in butter. A sandwich of some kind. Maybe a grilled ham&amp;nbsp; and cheese on rye. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, he isn't!" She glared at him when she got back to the kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cass looked back at her, hoping she was over Jay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-5777495575615403522?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/5777495575615403522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=5777495575615403522&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/5777495575615403522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/5777495575615403522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/02/get-over-it.html' title='get over it'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-1472511423804217627</id><published>2010-02-22T01:23:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T01:23:00.318-06:00</updated><title type='text'>just a little help</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/S3RcTgssboI/AAAAAAAAAPA/t60qYfXCCec/s1600-h/mattincherry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ct="true" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/S3RcTgssboI/AAAAAAAAAPA/t60qYfXCCec/s400/mattincherry.jpg" width="196" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Corky wanted to meet with Mattie's sister right away, but he knew he wouldn't be much good to her since he didn't know exactly what was going on with Cody and her sister. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Next, it seemed impossible to get Cody talked into talking to Cherry. He blew up when he told him about Mattie's situation. She was missing, and if he knew anything, he better tell her sister. Naturally, Cody was reluctant to go, but he got him talked into getting a chocolate shake at Great Shakes. So Corky went with him to meet Cherry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;"Actually, the police haven't been that much help." Cherry started as she sat there at a booth waiting for them. Corky was a little shocked that Cherry didn't look quite like her sister. Perhaps Cody was a little shocked too. "What?" She winced. "You don't believe I'm her sister, do you?" She brought along a whole bunch of pictures in her wallet proving to them&amp;nbsp;they were&amp;nbsp;sisters. There were pictures of them as little girls together with their mom. Cody just stuided them and gave them back to her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;"Its just," Cody shrugged. "I don't know if I can really help you."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;"You brother said you've seen her." Cherry looked at him seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;"Yeah, well, she's, you know, here one minute. Gone the next. She seems pretty OK, to me." Cody sighed. "Why won't the police help?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;"I dunno. Maybe because she runs away a lot and our family is, a lot of drama." Cherry shrugged. "Its like if she were anyone else, they'd take her seriously, but she's been on the street for sometime, now. And, and the thing is, if they do find her, looks like she'd go straight to Boystown."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;"They'd send a girl to Boystown?" Corky winced.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;"Its not funny, Corky?" Cody looked at him out of the corner of his eye.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;"I didn't mean it to be." Corky shrugged biting into a fry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;"So where did you meet my sister?" Cherry wanted to know. She stirred her strawberry shake, but didn't drink it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;"At the library." Cody told her. "But I haven't seen her lately, actually."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Corky wondered if Cody was a flat out liar when it came to Mattie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;"Please, please let me know if you hear anything, will you?" Cherry looked at him seriously.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;"Sure." Cody just nodded, but Corky didn't know if he was actually for real.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-1472511423804217627?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/1472511423804217627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=1472511423804217627&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/1472511423804217627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/1472511423804217627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/02/just-little-help.html' title='just a little help'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ugl77v_UYuU/S3RcTgssboI/AAAAAAAAAPA/t60qYfXCCec/s72-c/mattincherry.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-2713979078340674206</id><published>2010-02-20T02:30:00.017-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-20T09:32:11.656-06:00</updated><title type='text'>just more surprises</title><content type='html'>"What?" Had Cady heard her mother correctly over her cell. "She's married!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, Cady didn't need this in the middle of work. They'd been shut down a day or two. So everything was behind. Reports to get out. So much to do. And everyone had sent her more sticky notes to take care of than she possibly had time for. And all she could do was sit there, listening to her Mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you serious?" Cady winced. Jay had married Angie. "You have to be kidding me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cady wanted to hear this from Angie. Not her Mom. It had to be just a trick. A joke. But her mom said it was true. They'd met at the airport. Cady shook her head. This was just too freaky. What was this about? Really? How could it have happened without warning?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure her sister was a bit misguided these days and upset about Finn who was obviously, gay. After all. But with Jay? Jay who might not be completly durable and rather unstable in Cady's eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After she got off the phone. Cady thought she might heave right into the trash can. She felt like it. But Cady never threw up. Never. Not until now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-2713979078340674206?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/2713979078340674206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=2713979078340674206&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/2713979078340674206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/2713979078340674206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/02/just-more-surprises.html' title='just more surprises'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-4361591800668177430</id><published>2010-02-18T02:23:00.021-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-18T02:23:00.044-06:00</updated><title type='text'>big surprise</title><content type='html'>"This is hopeless." Corky looked at Ella. Why did he ever let her talk him into coming here. The library was so quiet. So reserved. No way could Mattie be here. It would be stupid to think this mad girl who wanted her brother to break the law and then some, would be hanging out here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They passed by the computer lab. Just some old dude and a nerdy girl were in there. It was the worst idea yet. They walked around for a bit. Scoping out the place. Perhaps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corky thought he should just twiddle his thumbs. They had two hours to kill here before Ella's mom would be back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Ella walked up the the community bulletin board on the way out and there was this poster. HAVE YOU SEEN THIS GIRL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh my God, look at this, Corky!" She turned to him then. Naturally, a librairen shushed them. There was a girl name Mattie. And she was missing. It was a homemade poster with a picture of her. She looked really sweet. Obviously, someone didn't know her. There was a phone number you could rip off as if you might need a babysitter, but this wasn't about babysitting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, call, its a local number." Ella glared back at Corky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"All right." Now if he knew what to say if he did get a hold of someone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-4361591800668177430?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/4361591800668177430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=4361591800668177430&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4361591800668177430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4361591800668177430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/02/big-surprise.html' title='big surprise'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-4148373125615864577</id><published>2010-02-15T02:05:00.026-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T09:37:04.470-06:00</updated><title type='text'>So if I wait for a holiday could it stop my fear?</title><content type='html'>It fit perfectly. The ring. Rafe just looked at it. It was kind of obvious now. The two of them together.&lt;strong&gt; Dillon &amp;amp; Rafe&lt;/strong&gt;. Right there for everyone to see. He bit the corner of his bottom lip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How did you know, my size?" Rafe looked up at Dil who had one too, that he was, of course, wearing more proudly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Cady, she helped." He smiled as if this was the best present he'd ever given to himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Huh." Rafe scratched the back of his head. "This is something."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You hate it." Dil glared at him then. It was as if Rafe had pooed his Valentines day. Completely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No. Its just, you know, what does it mean? Exactly?" Rafe tried not to wince.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That I want to be with you, you idiot." Dil squinted hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Uh, but you know, what if my Dad or Mom sees....it." Rafe shrugged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So, maybe they'd get the idea, you know, about us." Dil acted as if it were just a suttle hint. That's all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, I guess, but then anyone who comes in to the shop, will know, you know." Rafe kept eyeing the silver ring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, like your Seth Rogan and I'm Andy Sanberg. Just doing it like that mechanics skit on SNL." Dil blurted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You know, we're both better looking than either one of them." Rafe smirked. "Its just uh, you know, I don't know how customers would take it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Like you wouldn't get any business, is that it?" Dil was angry now. Rafe was afraid he might be right. But he guessed they'd just have to find something else to do if that was the case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Simmer down." He worked his hand a bit. He could get used to the ring. He would. He put his arm around Dil. "Let go have a drink. Down at Dex's." He was keeping the engagement band on, or commitment ring. Whatever they wanted to call it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You mean, you're gonna wear it?" Dil looked at him. Rafe just smile and gave him a kiss on the lips. It was official.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-4148373125615864577?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/4148373125615864577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=4148373125615864577&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4148373125615864577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/4148373125615864577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/02/so-if-i-wait-for-holiday-could-it-stop.html' title='So if I wait for a holiday could it stop my fear?'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-7974587381632646476</id><published>2010-02-14T01:44:00.034-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T01:44:00.374-06:00</updated><title type='text'>two hearts as one</title><content type='html'>Ella found the John Trovolta movie for Corky. &lt;em&gt;The Punisher&lt;/em&gt;. She doubted it was the right&amp;nbsp;one. But it was only 7 bucks.&amp;nbsp;They'd promised each other no candy for Valentines day. Still, she hoped he remembered flowers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As it was he was coming over to hang out. They were going to give each other DVDs for Valentines day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just don't spend too much on me." Corky had told her. So she'd tried not too. But she'd found so many good deals at Walmart. She had to get him a graphic T-shirt for 7 bucks. It had all the Marvel comic characters on it. Really, she hadn't. Another stipulation. Only shop at Walmart. No big time shopping places that she generally shopped at the mall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She thought she might have to wait forever on him, but he was there, right on time at 12 sharp. Her Mom had ordered pizza. They had the house almost to themselves. Her brother was at a sleepover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He did bring flowers. A red rose for her Mom and a pink rose for her. He hadn't gone overboard. He'd gotten her a&amp;nbsp;DVD she'd squealed over when it was on NICK. &lt;em&gt;Angus, thongs and perfect snogging&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You remembered." She was full of smiles. Then he handed her over a thin silver bracelets with both their names on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her eyes lit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'You shouldn't have." She was shocked. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, no, Mom said I could. She let me." He sighed all smiles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wow," she sighed, getting it out of the box and putting it on. She went to show her mom. It felt so official now. But she still liked his homemade bracelets too. "You're the best!" She gave him a hug. He just smiled. He was quiet. He opened his present, thanked her. Still she thought something else was on his mind as they went to put in a DVD to watch. The one she'd gotten him. It was the least she could do. She wasn't sure if she wanted to watch Aaron Johnson while he was in the room. Generally, Corky teased her how he couldn't wait for Aaron's movie Kick-Ass that was coming out in April. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's wrong." She squinted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nothing." He sighed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, tell me, I know something is bothering you." She stared at him seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I dunno." He pressed his lips then. "Its Cody." He finally sighed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Cody?" She squinted, remembering he was the one still home that he'd shared a room with forever and now his Mom had decided he could have his own room when his older brother Cory moved out. "What did he do this time?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He's just not himself. He crazy about this girl. This girl named Mattie. He carved her name in his arm." Corky winced. "Usually, I don't care what he does. I don't. He's just my brother. But this is so off. He was getting good grades. Now he doesn't."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So what do you know about her?" Ella held his hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not much. He told me he met her at the library." Corky shrugged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The library. Maybe we should investigate, you know. Maybe she lives there all the time. She could be there right now." Ella thought out loud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, I doubt that. I really doubt that." Corky chuckled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, lets not sit here. Lets go. Its open, you know." Ella told her Mom right away. "Besides, I hate staying home on Valentines day."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But the library?" Corky winced. He looked at her as if this was a crazy idea.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-7974587381632646476?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/7974587381632646476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=7974587381632646476&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/7974587381632646476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/7974587381632646476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/02/two-hearts-as-one.html' title='two hearts as one'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-8935651851952831842</id><published>2010-02-13T01:34:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-13T13:30:11.419-06:00</updated><title type='text'>chill'n</title><content type='html'>"Well, I know you want something." Rafe sighed as he took a cranberry juice out of the fridge. "You want to go out on Valentines day?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No." Dil shrugged as if he had no intention of even bringing Valentines day up. It was for straight couples, anyway. Not people like them. Or he saw it that way through Rafe's eyes. It would just have to be. "We could grill steaks. We never got around to using those steaks your Dad got us at Christmas."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That sounds," Rafe nodded. "No, you'd at least want to go down to Dex's."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In this weather?" Dil scowled with a shiver. He was channel surfing as it was. At least the cable was still on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm am trying to be your Valentine's date here, you know." Rafe drank at the juice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OK, there is something." Dil shut off the TV. "I-I ordered something."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You what?" Rafe cracked up as if he'd underestimated him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It should get here by Valentines day." Dil sighed. "Hopefully."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh really, don't tell me its an iguana or something." Rafe plopped himself next to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No." Dil shook his head, no. "Something special."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just how special?" Rafe winced putting his arm around him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Special enough, I think, hopefully, it'll fit." Dil looked at Rafe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Lord knows what that might be. Hopefully, it has nothing like dressing up as cupid or anything." Rafe laughed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No." Dil just beamed as if he might have out done himself. He just hoped Rafe would like it as much as he did. He really hoped so. At least, it hadn't cost an arm and a leg to do it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-8935651851952831842?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/8935651851952831842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=8935651851952831842&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/8935651851952831842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/8935651851952831842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/02/chilln.html' title='chill&apos;n'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-6015274106296031969</id><published>2010-02-12T01:02:00.038-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T01:02:00.736-06:00</updated><title type='text'>a little matter of the heart</title><content type='html'>Cory stared at his home-made tattoo. The scabs&amp;nbsp;were flaking now.&amp;nbsp;It wouldn't last, even if he almost hurt himself doing it. He'd done it with an X-acto knife after art class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mattie had been bugging him about how could he prove his love to her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"You won't shop lift anything good," she said it so he'd feel guilty for not getting her the ring she wanted. And she'd slipped in after school. Like she knew no one would be there in class. She didn't even go to his school.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"You can do it now." She'd been excited about it.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I dunno. I don't want to cut myself." He was bit of a baby about blood. It made him gag and he winced when he saw it. Especially, his own.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;She'd found the knife for him in his teacher's desk.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Do it." She sounded like a robot. "You know you want to." She looked at him so beautiful. He had no where to go. He took the knife. "Write my name. I want my name on your arm." She gave him a sly smile that&amp;nbsp;he could hardly resist. She might as well have slammed him down in that chair. She sat behind him. Her arms around his waist as if he was all she needed. He'd felt her lips on his neck and how she breathed in his ear. "You know you want too."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;He nodded with a gulp of his own phlem. He gritted then.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Mattie, thats all I want you to do on your arm. It'll be so lovely." She gave him a soft laugh,&amp;nbsp;and she touched him under his T-shirt and her fingers pried places he could never imagine going. Cory gave a litte smile as he grabbed the knife tight and sliced into is forearm. He watched the blood ooze up on top of his skin. He felt faint, and yet a certain Uphoria set in. It was like someone else was doing this instead of him. It was amazing and senuous and he hated himself for doing it, but Mattie. Yes, Mattie. She seemed to make everything better.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-6015274106296031969?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/6015274106296031969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=6015274106296031969&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/6015274106296031969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/6015274106296031969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/02/little-matter-of-heart.html' title='a little matter of the heart'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-2695540733927596549</id><published>2010-02-10T22:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T22:40:35.896-06:00</updated><title type='text'>right back where we started from</title><content type='html'>Cass listened to Cady talk about how she accidentally told Joy the news about them getting married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I hope you don't mind." She was serious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He could hardly keep from laughing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What is so funny?" She nudged him hard as if this was not a joke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You." He chuckled. "I mean, you are so dead set against it, and all, and then you go-"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I couldn't help it. I'm sorry. I dunno. Am I crazy?" She looked mad at herself for bringing this all up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, you're crazy." He gave her a sly look as she cleaned up the dishes. "OK, I want to be engage." He finally admitted. "I've wanted that a long time. Its just I&amp;nbsp;don't have anything fancy for you. I thought, that's what you wanted that Jay dude for. To buy you all these wonderful things."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, Rafe never did." She brought in more dishes from the livingroom along with a big trash bags of beer cans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He got you a house." Cass reminded her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, big deal, its a two bedrooms and its falling apart." She eyed him then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"See," Cass glared right back. "You can never see the glass half full. Its always half empty to you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sorry."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I just don't think I could find you anything good enough." He sighed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't say that." She rattled the cans then. "Look, we'll go to that old antique shop, you always said we'd go to, in that little town we say we're always going to visit. Maybe we'll find something there."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you know how much snow is falling?" He looked at her blankly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We're not going anywhere." He smiled. He rinsed another dish and went to her then just as the power went out and they were in the dark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Did you plan that?" She looked at him in what she could make of him. He hugged her then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I wish." He kissed her. Definitely, a good time to hybernate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-2695540733927596549?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/2695540733927596549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=2695540733927596549&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/2695540733927596549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/2695540733927596549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/02/right-back-where-we-started-from.html' title='right back where we started from'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-5950306112415436399</id><published>2010-02-09T01:38:00.033-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T07:13:30.597-06:00</updated><title type='text'>the possibility</title><content type='html'>Dil was stretched across the bed with Cady's lap-top. She laid next to him, eyeing the screen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You should order it from Kay's." He clicked on different rings. "No, no, Blue Nile. Yeah, build your own there. Thats what you want."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, Wal-mart. I'm getting it at Wal-mart." Cady sighed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"NO WAY!" Dil shot her a&amp;nbsp;look. "This is your engagement ring, we're talking about."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And I don't want to spend my retirement on my wedding ring."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, Cass should be doing this, but, you know, he's in this slump, because of you." He looked back at rings with lots of carots. The rings only started at 300 bucks with the simplist of settings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Me?" She scowled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, you haven't acted like you wanted to marry him. How come you told Cory and Joy that you and Cass were engaged?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I dunno. I had too. I guess. Maybe, I want to."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Shit!" Dil stared at a selection of men's engagement rings. "I don't believe this. Look how expensive those rings are!" Dil made one of his bitter scowls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You want an engagement ring?" Cady looked at him as if he'd lost it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hell, yeah." He looked back at her. "I want to get married just as bad as you do." He looked at the screen. "Jesus! They call this a sale?" He glared at the&amp;nbsp;expensive prices. "Maybe we better check out Wal-Mart, after all." He found the website and laughed. "Well, you can get something as cheap as 64 bucks. But I kind of like these you can put your names on. Is that too cheap?" He winced, looking at Cady. "No, he'd want something simple. He always does." Dil looked back at the screen so solemn then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cady rolled over and looked up at the ceiling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We got our work cut out for us. If we want thisto &amp;nbsp;happen." He looked at Cady. "You'll have to ask Cass to marry you, and I'm just going to have to talk Rafe into it." He shrugged with a smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cady was busy looking at her empty fingers. Naturally, she was in her own little world, thought Dil, but so was he. So was he.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-5950306112415436399?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/5950306112415436399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=5950306112415436399&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/5950306112415436399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/5950306112415436399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/02/possibility.html' title='the possibility'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-1408448401207691282</id><published>2010-02-07T01:28:00.016-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T01:28:00.516-06:00</updated><title type='text'>where has the world gone</title><content type='html'>"Mom! Are you listening to me?" Corky was at his wits end with her. Naturally, she was in her own little world with her friends. She wouldn't shut up about Angie, Cady's sister,&amp;nbsp;running away from her wedding. He wasn't even sure if she got the story right about that, either. "Cody's got problems. Did you see &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; on his arm?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Its not real." That's all she was concerned about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It is. You have to look at it. We have to find out who this Mattie is. He's not eating. He's not sleeping. He plays stupid video games all the time!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I can't believe you said that!" Now she was making it about him instead of his brother. "My baby's growing up!" She hugged him, tried to squeeze him,&amp;nbsp;but he slid&amp;nbsp;out of her hold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom, I'm serious. I'm worried about him. I've never seen him like this. He never gets mad about anything. Now he's mad all the time." Corky glared at his mother hoping she'd come around and lay down the law to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He's just depressed. He's going through some things right now. We have to just let him grow out of it." She pushed her fingers through&amp;nbsp;Corky's thick hair. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom talk to him, he's not the Cody I know." Corky pleaded with her. "He's different."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He is not." She rolled her eyes. She had to make a phone call because she couldn't figure out the text the neighbor sent her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corky hugged himself then. He had to find out who this Mattie was and what she was doing to Cody.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-1408448401207691282?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/1408448401207691282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=1408448401207691282&amp;isPopup=true' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/1408448401207691282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/1408448401207691282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/02/where-has-world-gone.html' title='where has the world gone'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-3342975542539700440</id><published>2010-02-05T01:18:00.020-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-05T01:18:00.404-06:00</updated><title type='text'>ain't no telling</title><content type='html'>"Should we be worried?" Rafe was nursing a beer. The bedroom door was closed. Actually, his old bedroom door. But it was locked. Rafe winced. "Why, is the door locked, Cass?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The door's locked?" He winced then. "Who knows."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They went back to the livingroom with Joy and Cory as if someone had to entertain them. Cady and Dil weren't. Rafe was left shaking his head. This was the strangest thing. His ex with his boyfriend. He just couldn't quite comprehend it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, you know about her sister and the trouble she's been having." Cass just sighed as he picked at an olive to eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rafe nodded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She's a real piece of work, that sister's of hers." That's all he could say. "I knew that wedding wasn't going to happen. Finn is, well, best it didn't happen."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah," Cass just yawn as if this party wasn't really happening, either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So how's work?" Rafe wanted to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hasn't changed much." Cass told him. "I found out from this guy that got hired at the up-scale eatery from my cooking school is really having&amp;nbsp;a hard go of it. I mean, if he has trouble finding work, how am I ever going to get in any of these&amp;nbsp;expensive places?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, he's not you. Everyone loves your food. I wouldn't worry about it." Rafe smiled as if Cass needed more confidence. He looked back at the bedroom then. "You think they're ever coming out of that bedroom?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-3342975542539700440?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/3342975542539700440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=3342975542539700440&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/3342975542539700440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/3342975542539700440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/02/aint-no-telling.html' title='ain&apos;t no telling'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-6224354632520657881</id><published>2010-02-01T04:34:00.042-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T04:34:00.260-06:00</updated><title type='text'>how it came to be</title><content type='html'>Cody was in love. He was. Honest to&amp;nbsp;God, it just hit him like a lightening bolt. He'd found her&amp;nbsp;at the library. Well, not in the stacks or waiting in line to check out a book. He had to pick up CATCHER IN THE RYE for required reading. He got the last copy before the news came, about Salinger. He supposed he was suppose to have that copy. He guessed it was the perfect time to meet Mattie, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since school was nothing. A complete void, it felt like. His last girlfriend got to dump him before he dumped her. Still it felt like she'd ripped off a band-aid and left him bleeding. He felt lousy and misunderstood and not quite sure just how to make the right grade even when he read the material and took the test. Those essays were killers. He was not right with the English language. And he had to read a book, if that was the last thing he did, to try to improve his&amp;nbsp;grade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he was on his way out. He saw her there, lounging across two of the orange lobby chairs in her 'Stewie' &lt;em&gt;Family Guy&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp;sleep pants. Her lime green hip hugging panties shown. Just the top part. It was stunning.&amp;nbsp;Cody couldn't resist to look. Then she saw that he'd noticed, and her dark eye-lined eyes looked up at him so innocently. He'd never seen her before. She had such&amp;nbsp;stunning green&amp;nbsp;eyes, like she could read his soul, and her mouth was so pouty and full&amp;nbsp;while her hair, wavy and blond, stuck out ever so sweetly under her soft white hoodie which might have been all she had for a top. She was perfect. Long waisted and lean, a sexy golden complexion. He just couldn't stop leering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you need a ride or something?" He blinked, wondering if she'd answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, sure. Of course, I do." She got up and followed him to his mother's car that he had borrowed. This was for his Academics so it was cool to take the car. OK, maybe giving&amp;nbsp;Mattie a ride home wasn't, but he couldn't help himself. He just had too. He wanted to know where she lived. What she did. How she ate, drank and well, kissed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't have to go home, right away." She smiled, sitting in the front seat with him. Her sly look made him laugh inside as if she liked him as much as he liked her. "Do you want to do something?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Like what?" He felt such an idiot for even asking, and now he wondered why he even did. It changed everything. Everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She knew a place, but he'd have to park down an old alley that no one ever used. So they&amp;nbsp;ran on foot down a few back yards just to go into someone's back door. It was quiet. Almost twilight, and they were alone in someone's house. He thought it was her house, but she just smiled and said no. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mattie&amp;nbsp;found the NyQuil. They shared the bottle. She put on some music. They danced. Cory couldn't help but smile. He'd never done anything like this before. It was the most exciting adventure he'd ever been on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Here, take some things." She laughed. He laughed, drunk on NyQuil. It was hard to keep up. She took bobbles and such. Mere costume jewelry. He guessed. She found a black fedora for him. She said&amp;nbsp;he was smashing in her fake British accent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Its so you." She reminded him with a &amp;nbsp;giggle. So he wore it. Happily. And that's how it started.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-6224354632520657881?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/6224354632520657881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=6224354632520657881&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/6224354632520657881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/6224354632520657881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/02/how-it-came-to-be.html' title='how it came to be'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-6894934468951709308</id><published>2010-01-30T04:00:00.026-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-30T04:00:01.256-06:00</updated><title type='text'>more of marathon to get there</title><content type='html'>"Isn't it great we can do these couple things now?" Dil looked at Cady as if they'd gotten over a hump or something, and everything was delightful now. "I mean, we can finally all hangout again, you know." She knew he meant her and Cass and him and Rafe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cady just nodded and looked over at Joy and Cory who were helping themselves to some cheese and sour cream for their chili. Cady just couldn't talk right now. It was awkward to be around Joy, especially, when she kept staring at her as if she was expecting something, but Cady wasn't sure what. So Cady popped a stuffed olive in her mouth then. She just didn't know it was stuffed with a jalapeno.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naturally, she hid in the kitchen then gagging on it and spitting it in the trash disposal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is anything the matter?" Dil wanted to know as if was on top of it, as if he might be her boyfriend instead of Cass who was playing&amp;nbsp;a video game with Rafe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well," Cady cleared her throat. "The obvious. We still don't know where my sister is. We think she might have gone on her honeymoon."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Alone?" Dil looked surprised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dunno."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Jay? You think she's with Jay?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I hope not." Cady tried to keep positive. Naturally, Joy showed up as if she wanted to listen too. Cady wanted to say What do you want. But instead she told her about her sister and how her wedding was off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"God, what I'd kill for a wedding." Joy looked at Cady bright eyed as if she'd heard nothing she'd just told her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you going to get married?" Cady winced. Cory was still in the dining room testing out different dips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sooner or later." Joy told her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, I&amp;nbsp; guess we'll get married sooner or later too." Cady just smiled as if it was a good answer for just about any occasion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?" Dil looked surprised. "When did that&amp;nbsp; happen Cady? Did Cass give you a ring?" Dil was looking all over Cady's hand to see it, but she hid her fingers then as she crossed her arms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What are you guys talking about?" Cass was going to the fridge then to get a beer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Cady's engagement ring." Dil smiled so as if maybe he'd get one too if he liked Cady's enough. "Where is it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cass looked at Cady.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We ordered it." She just smiled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We did?" He looked at her as if maybe we did. "Oh yeah, we did, didn't we."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She wondered if he was thinking about Girl Scout Cookies by that look on his face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I want to see a picture." Dil demanded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Darn, I don't know what I did with that stuff." Cady gave him a lopsided grin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Isn't it on the Internet?" Dil asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is it?" Cady gritted wanting to stomp Dil's foot. Some help he was. "Come here," she pulled him to the side and walked him out of the kitchen, back down the hall. "Can you just shut up!" She whispered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What? What did I do now?" Dil looked at her as he was only here to help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There is no engagment ring, you idiot!" Cady whispered back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-6894934468951709308?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/6894934468951709308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=6894934468951709308&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/6894934468951709308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/6894934468951709308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/01/more-of-marathon-to-get-there.html' title='more of marathon to get there'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-6890928211120152429</id><published>2010-01-28T22:13:00.023-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T22:30:13.978-06:00</updated><title type='text'>its skin deep</title><content type='html'>Cody was not in a good mood. Corky knew why too. His mom hadn't let him go to the midnight party at Gamestop to get the new video game he'd ordered. He was stomping around acting like a baby as far as Corky was concerned. Sure, Corky liked video games, but they weren't his life like Cody's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, those are my jeans!" Corky noticed the pair was falling off Cody as he laid back on his futon to get into the game with his controller. He was so thin. Much thinner than Corky who hadn't really noticed the difference until now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Shut up! They are not!" Cody looked up at him cross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When's the last time you've left your room?" Corky felt like the big brother here, and he was younger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I dunno." Cody just gave him a scowl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Whens the last time you've eaten?" There were such dark shadows under his eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Who cares!" Cody's scowl just got more angry. "Just leave me alone!" He sat up getting into his game and that's when Corky notice was what on his forearm. He thought it was just in ball point pen, but as he looked closer with a wince, he saw it was someone's name that had been pricked into his skin. MATTIE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What have you done?" Corky plopped himself down to take a closer examination of his brother's handmade tattoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just leave me alone!" Cody pushed him away, but Corky&amp;nbsp;was much stronger than his older brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why did you do it?" Corky wanted to know as he grabbed his brother's arm. "Why would you even do it?" Corky looked at his arm in disgust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I dunno." Cody tried to pull his arm away, but Corky held it steady. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's wrong with you?" Corky didn't understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She doesn't like me. All right. Nobody likes me." He looked at the TV screen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You need to talk to Mom. You need to tell her what's going on." Corky told him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nothing is going on. Leave me alone!" Cody's teeth gnashed as he pushed him away. "DON'T TELL MOM!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His warning only&amp;nbsp;meant to &amp;nbsp;Corky that he had to tell Mom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-6890928211120152429?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/6890928211120152429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=6890928211120152429&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/6890928211120152429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/6890928211120152429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/01/its-skin-deep.html' title='its skin deep'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-6152936159320354504</id><published>2010-01-23T21:30:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T23:17:52.859-06:00</updated><title type='text'>which road to take</title><content type='html'>Cass wish he could care more. About this trouble with Cady and her sister. He wanted to, but he couldn't. Something else was on his mind. Joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It went in lapses. Sometimes, he didn't think it could be possible. Then he'd look at himself in the bathroom mirror and catch himself wondering if it was possibly true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could that baby be his? Could it? If it was, would he just be an uncle just the same? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then he'd think it out logical. No way, it could be possible. She'd be farther along. That baby was his brother's. Had to be. End of story. He wanted to forget about it, but he couldn't. He was back to trying to immersed himself in video games.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you think I'm getting fat." He put his game on pause and looked at Cady who was in her own little world with her cell trying to make contact with all of Angie's friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?" She looked at him cross. "What are you talking about? You are the skinniest guy who can eat what ever he wants."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good." He grinned then as if that was a relief. He'd always noticed how his Mom's boyfriends gained weight when she got pregnant. He got up then and reached for his cell in his back pocket. He felt like calling Cory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How's it going?" He said first thing. "You getting morning sickness, yet?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They talked for a while about nothing, like the weather and so on. Then they got to Joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How's she treating you?" Pregnant or not, he felt he needed to protect his brother from her. Still. "Well, Dil and Rafe are bringing over chili, you want to come over?" He'd have to see his brother to see if there was a sign. Was he gaining weight? "Yeah, she can&amp;nbsp;come too." He sighed. Cass wasn't looking forward to telling Cady that Joy was coming over with Cory.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-6152936159320354504?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/6152936159320354504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=6152936159320354504&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/6152936159320354504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/6152936159320354504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/01/which-road-to-take.html' title='which road to take'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-9050970571732850615</id><published>2010-01-18T21:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T21:01:26.890-06:00</updated><title type='text'>so yesterday</title><content type='html'>Joy wasn't exactly full of joy, lately. Perhaps it was the morning sickness or the fact more people should be happier for her. Like her Mom. Cory's Mom, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why aren't they happy for us?" She couldn't help but be in a sour mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You can only expect so much," Cory sighed. He wouldn't say it, but he knew her Mom wasn't that happy about this, anymore than his own mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But I don't know why they wouldn't want to be a grandmother?" She winced as she thought about food, but couldn't dare stomach anything more than hot tea and crackers. As it was, she hadn't made it to work for another day, and Cory was doing his best to not stay out too late with work. He needed to be studying on his laptop. But as it was he was cleaning the place up. He was handy that way. She hadn't done a thing, all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Stop expecting the world to come to a complete stop. You're just pregnant." Cory finally sighed as he'd had enough and got himself a soda out of the fridge, ready to relax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just pregnant! How could you say that!" He'd said the wrong thing as far as she was concerned. "Its your baby, you know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm fully aware of that fact, but the thing is, I&amp;nbsp;can't carry it, only you can, and there is only one of me, who can do so much." He didn't even smile about it. It was as if the baby news had wore off or maybe it was just her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I've never been pregnant before!" She clarified.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I've never been a dad before." He smiled as he made room for her on the couch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But you seem better at this than me." She sat down next to him and hugged herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Because, I've had brothers to take care of, and my mom." He sighed. "So you should be a piece of cake."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Really?" Was that true, she wondered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You have no idea, your own strength yet." He nodded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She didn't feel strong at all. She felt weak and tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Have you taken your vitamins today?" He looked at her. It was already night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They make me smell. I want to puke from the smell." She frowned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Show your strength. Take your vitamins." He went to find them. "Just one more step toward being a better parent."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She never thought of it that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You can't just think about you anymore, Joy." He handed her a pill along with a glass of water. He watched while she did as he'd asked. "You've got somebody to look after." He rubbed her flat stomach then. She looked back at him. Well, she knew who was taking care of her. She thought he was suppose to take care of the baby, too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-9050970571732850615?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/9050970571732850615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=9050970571732850615&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/9050970571732850615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/9050970571732850615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/01/so-yesterday.html' title='so yesterday'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-2651172135358157296</id><published>2010-01-13T22:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T22:13:23.586-06:00</updated><title type='text'>like a good neighbor</title><content type='html'>"I'm with Cady, I think he's psycho." Dil told Rafe. He was merrily&amp;nbsp;going over to Cady's for support. Of course, Rafe&amp;nbsp;didn't want to be&amp;nbsp;dragged away from a football game on&amp;nbsp;TV&amp;nbsp;when Dil announced they were going over to Cady's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You never even met the dude." Rafe looked at Dil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So." He couldn't even remember Cady's sort of boyfriend's name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Jay." Rafe reminded him. "His name was Jay."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, whatever." Dil shrugged. "Lets get going."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"As if we're going to find him on our way there."&amp;nbsp; Rafe sighed but Dil scooted him along. So they loaded up the truck and headed over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You know, you have this knack for wanting to save people." Rafe noticed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, I don't." Dil winced. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, yes you do." Rafe laughed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dil gave him a small frown and looked at him out of the corner of his eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's wrong with that?" He winced, hugging himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Because, all this time, I thought I was saving you." Rafe kept his eye on the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, saving me from myself, I suppose." Dil said so quietly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rafe turned on some on some Death Cab for Cutie then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dil wished&amp;nbsp;Rafe really hadn't brought that up. This wasn't about saving anyone from anything. It was about being there for your friends who were just as important or maybe more than his own family.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-2651172135358157296?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/2651172135358157296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=2651172135358157296&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/2651172135358157296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/2651172135358157296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/01/like-good-neighbor.html' title='like a good neighbor'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-3535670994868071565</id><published>2010-01-09T22:33:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T22:33:13.390-06:00</updated><title type='text'>at the moment</title><content type='html'>Cass wasn't exactly sure&amp;nbsp;how Cady wanted to be consoled. She was practically climbing the wall when she got off the phone with Angie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I can't believe it! I can't! I didn't even know she knew Jay." Cady cringed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So?" Cass didn't get it. He was playing a video game&amp;nbsp; on his XBOX in the living-room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"MY SISTER IS WITH JAY!" Cady glared at Cass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh." Really, it didn't bother him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What if he's a serial killer? What if he's kidnapped her, and she doesn't even know it?" Cady hugged herself as flung herself next to Cass on the couch. He edged away since he was on a mission on this game. He was shooting massive bad soliders in this jungle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What do you take your sister for? She has a brain." Cass gave her a sly look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She's and emotional wreck." Now Cady looked like the emotional wreck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sure she's fine. I'm sure she's OK." Cass winced and pushed his thumbs into the controller to&amp;nbsp;where he was going in this race on the video.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I dunno." Cady was shaking her head as tears started to emerge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cass wince bitterly. He supposed he was really going to have to console her. Now wasn't he? What sort of boyfriend what she make him for if he didn't put his arm around her. At-least for a few minutes. He put the game on pause.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-3535670994868071565?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/3535670994868071565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=3535670994868071565&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/3535670994868071565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/3535670994868071565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/01/at-moment.html' title='at the moment'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-1237729175336909611</id><published>2010-01-07T01:20:00.016-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T22:20:15.553-06:00</updated><title type='text'>bombs away</title><content type='html'>Cady could feel her heartbeat racing when she heard her sister's voice on her cell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Where are you?" Cady wanted to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm OK." She just said. "Maybe I don't want to tell you where I am."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cady didn't know what to think of her sister now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What? You can't be serious? We're worried about you, you know." Cady paced in the kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I just need some time, you know. Finn-" Then she started to cry and Cady heard her mutter something about her heart being broken and how she might never be the same again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Angie, you have to come home. Listen to me, you should be alone, right now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not alone." She told her sister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're not?" Cady had to sit down. What had her sister done? "Who! Who's with you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know if I should tell you are not." Her sister sniffed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"TELL ME!" Cady demanded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"All right, you're not going to like this," her sister started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cady just cringed when she found out who she was with.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-1237729175336909611?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/1237729175336909611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=1237729175336909611&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/1237729175336909611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/1237729175336909611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/01/bombs-away.html' title='bombs away'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-6797499218627763467</id><published>2010-01-04T13:27:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-04T13:27:25.049-06:00</updated><title type='text'>so it goes</title><content type='html'>He knew Brick would never say it, but it was awkward. Dil felt better once Brick was gone.&amp;nbsp; Even though, he wasn't sure they ever talked about what&amp;nbsp;Brick wanted to talk about, nor do the thing he'd hoped for. Share a joint. Didn't happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dil wanted to tell him "I'm just too boring for you, Brick." But he didn't do that, either. Instead they talked about his college town and the classes he was taking and what he might do if he ever graduated. It wasn't until a few days after the new year that Brick called. That was the last thing Dil expected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Look, you were really nice," Brick said. "And, so was Rafe. Its just how..how did that happened?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dil wasn't sure he had an answer for him. "What?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You know," he took a moment before he said. "I want what you have. And I don't have that, you know. Nobody."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But you've got your family." Dil reminded him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, I don't. I don't have them, anymore. They don't want to see me." Brick told him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sorry," Dil said. "Look, the next time you're in town, you stop by, all right?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you sure?" Brick question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, its all right." Dil nodded. If Brick hadn't any family to go home to, then he and Rafe would just have to do. Dil decided.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-6797499218627763467?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/6797499218627763467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=6797499218627763467&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/6797499218627763467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/6797499218627763467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2010/01/so-it-goes.html' title='so it goes'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-7338928504094606934</id><published>2009-12-31T13:36:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T13:36:38.842-06:00</updated><title type='text'>and then</title><content type='html'>Cass was glad Rafe was over to change the locks on the door. Cory came over too as if he was there to help too. He'd helped Cass carry the ripped bed out and take it to the dump.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You know, what you should do is go to SAMS and buy yourself a new bed." Rafe told him it was a late Christmas present from he and Dil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, we should." Cass agreed wondering just how they'd get a bed from SAMS here. "But don't you have to haul it on your own?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I got something that could take care of that." Rafe informed him after he checked the dead bolt locks again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the while he heard Cady in the kitchen with Dil talking about Christmas and how awful it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And now my sister is gone. My parents don't know what happened." She'd been on the phone with them for what seemed hours to Cass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's going on?" Cass looked at her as if she told Dil everything and him nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She-she broke off the engagement."&amp;nbsp; Cady told him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you kidding me? Hasn't she spent over a year planning this thing?" Even Cass was shocked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She found out something about Finn." Cady shrugged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Like what?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I bet it was a guy. I bet he was seeing some guy at work, like a&amp;nbsp;delivery guy or something." Dil acted as if he had Finn all figured out. Cass just smiled. He couldn't help but chuckle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Who knows, I don't even think Mom knows, but she was so upset." Cady hugged herself as Dil went to check on the pizza in the oven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Does this mean we have to go over there?" Cass gave her a soured look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No." She shook her head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good, because we're going to SAMS." Rafe informed them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We are?" Dil winced as if&amp;nbsp;he didn't want to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, soon as you eat that pizza, we're going. We're looking for a bed." Rafe was on a mission. "So you have to go, Cady. Don't want to get the wrong one."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cass slightly smiled. Didn't he have everything he wanted? A home, a car and of course, a new bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-7338928504094606934?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/7338928504094606934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=7338928504094606934&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/7338928504094606934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/7338928504094606934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2009/12/and-then.html' title='and then'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-7439399788709195922</id><published>2009-12-30T03:45:00.035-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-30T15:51:43.391-06:00</updated><title type='text'>the simplest of things</title><content type='html'>Cady didn't get jewelry from Cass. Instead, she got a timer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So you wouldn't burn your cupcakes." He gave her a sly smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thanks." She could barely say. If she'd stayed with Jay, she might have gotten something good, she supposed. Like a watch, perhaps. She sighed at the thought. They were spending the night at Cass' parents due to the blowing snow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They'd stuffed themselves on turkey and all the trimmings. She hadn't taken a step out of the house as she thought she might... to walk down to her parents. It wasn't that far away, yet the wind chills kept her inside, and she found out her new snow boots weren't as great as she thought. They were leaky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now Cass cuddled with her on the couch, he kissed her forehead as if he'd try better next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We really need a bed," Cass said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You mean here or-"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"At home."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Maybe we need to move." She was sad. Really, Jay had invaded it. Even if he hadn't really taken anything. Naturally, the cops couldn't find him. She wondered if they were even trying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You can't run away. We can't." Cass informed her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sometimes, I think if we just went somewhere... where we knew no one, would be the best thing we could ever do." She leaned into his chest then. Everything was warm and sleepy and she could hardly keep her eyes open.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, its a nice dream, but it doesn't mean its a better answer." He told her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She nodded. Nodded off to sleep. Cady&amp;nbsp;thought of them somewhere else in the world where the streets were cobbled and the fabrics of their lives were so vibrant and whimsical. A place where mangos were perfect right off the tree just like her mother talked about where she grew up, and it was there behind walls that could have been just as well the landsape... was a beautiful bed. Their bed. Glowing white and naturally inviting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-7439399788709195922?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/7439399788709195922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=7439399788709195922&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/7439399788709195922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/7439399788709195922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2009/12/simplest-of-things.html' title='the simplest of things'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-1442801123721146622</id><published>2009-12-29T06:32:00.020-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T06:32:00.043-06:00</updated><title type='text'>home away from home</title><content type='html'>Corky was beginning to wonder if he'd be stranded at Bella's forever. He could only be on his best behavior for so long and this was going way above the call of duty. The snow just kept coming and the TV guy kept saying &lt;em&gt;stay home&lt;/em&gt;. There were just certain things you couldn't do at other people's houses, especially, at your girlfriend's house...like take a dump.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, this body function was taking him down, inch by inch...he was so close to letting one rip. And then what would Ella think of him? He hated the thought of her laughing at him or having her nose snarled up saying a constant "oooooooh...." in a very yucky way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Maybe I could just walk home." He'd decided.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You can not walk home, that would take forever and you'd freeze to death." He was told this at least 3 times, twice by her parents and of course by Ella.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well..." What was she expecting, Him being something she could keep in her closet. She had so much stuff. A lot of toys that had never been open in her room. It disgusted him a little. She had no idea how lucky she was and here he was just wanting to be himself..but he couldn't. "I might be getting sick."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Like how?" She looked at him wondering what the trouble was. She put her hand on his forehead. "You're kind of sweaty."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh," he gritted thinking he must have reeked of his own sweat. There was not enough of his brother's &lt;em&gt;axe&lt;/em&gt; body spray to make the odor go away, he guessed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a time he never ever thought of these things, and now it was all he could think about. He wanted to go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True, he got to sleep in the guestroom which was a little strange. His bed at home wasn't quite that nice. His was lumpy, shaky and he had to share a room with Cody who usually had his ear-buds on and never noticed when he shouted at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now his stomach started to hurt. He wasn't sure if it was because he was homesick or the fact he just needed to go to the bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I think I need to be alone." He finally told her. "I don't feel so well. Really."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, he was pretty sure he wasn't tough at all. Maybe this was not a good time to be a boyfriend. Maybe he just wasn't cut out for it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-1442801123721146622?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/1442801123721146622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=1442801123721146622&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/1442801123721146622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/1442801123721146622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2009/12/home-away-from-home.html' title='home away from home'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-1599330405903658891</id><published>2009-12-28T09:17:00.018-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-28T09:17:00.421-06:00</updated><title type='text'>restless thoughts</title><content type='html'>Rafe didn't want to think about it, but here was Dil's potential boyfriend staying with them.&amp;nbsp; It was hard for him to keep still. He just wanted to know, why, why would Dil go that far to find someone at the park. It was so risky and sad and .... Dil kept saying nothing had happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He didn't go through with it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He could see in Dil's eyes, he felt as if he'd saved Brick from something while perhaps it was Brick who had saved him and he didn't even know it. He could hardly shake the thought. But it was easy to see now just how easily Dil could have fallen into something dangerous, but he didn't. What had held him back?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you know how-" Rafe winced not sure how to finish his sentence. He was so tense now, but the phone rang. It was his mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They talked awhile about Christmas and how they wouldn't be coming over due to the bad weather. "I think we'll be fine." Rafe looked at Dil then a slumbering Brick who he was sure would never wake up now. All he really wanted was to be alone with Dil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, Rafe decided not to weigh himself down on what Dil could have been, but right now and the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When is he going home?" Rafe wanted to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dil just shrugged. They'd had breakfast and now Dil was cleaning up. They might never get to open their Christmas presents at this rate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-1599330405903658891?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/1599330405903658891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=1599330405903658891&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/1599330405903658891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/1599330405903658891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2009/12/restless-thoughts.html' title='restless thoughts'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-5434473276129403516</id><published>2009-12-26T09:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-26T09:34:34.772-06:00</updated><title type='text'>something-something</title><content type='html'>Dil knew he had asked too much of Rafe, but there Brick was, no where to go. Christmas eve. Granted, it might have been more fun and laid back if Rafe hadn't been there to partake of the little homemade cigarette in the dawn of Christmas day, but Dil could see this just wasn't his thing anymore as he put ingredients together to make pancakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You don't even know what you're doing," Rafe said looking at the mess in the bowl. "You just make it up as you go along, don't you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pretty much." Dil looked up at him as he shook a good bit of the sugar from the sugar bowl into the mix. "You mean the pancake batter, don't you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rafe crossed his arms and fumed. He edged back on the kitchen counter and watched him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dil, I want to know everything. Everything about Brick. Don't tell me you knew him at school, because you didn't. Did you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No." Dil couldn't look him in the eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, who in the hell is he?" Rafe squinted. Of course, Rafe's voice didn't wake Brick who was asleep on the couch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nobody." Dil winced. "He's nobody, Rafe."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why does everything have to be such a well kept secret with you, huh?" Rafe fretted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Its not what you think, its not." Dil looked at him quite sad. "I don't...I don't know what you'd think of me, all right." He mixed up the pancake batter then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not going to judge you, really." Rafe looked at Dil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I met Brick at the park. It was, I dunno, a couple of years ago, I had heard that was the place to go if you...you know, wanted to hook up, or something." Dil shrugged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What? You went to a park to get.." Rafe shook his head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"See, I knew how you'd feel about it." Dil clinched his jaw then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You could have gotten killed, if you went where I think you went. You went to that park where they found that dead girl, didn't you?" Rafe glared then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, that was the one, but it hadn't happened then." Dil told him as if that had to count for something. "There were just some old guys there. It was creepy." Dil frowned. He wasn't sure he wanted pancakes now. "And, and I saw Brick and he was kind of scared. And I just acted like we were together. That's all." Dil sighed then. "&amp;nbsp;Nobody. Nobody, did anything that night all right. Except we got high, and we kissed, but&amp;nbsp; I don't even think he remembers, really. We're just, you know, friends. At best. Its like when he thinks about going there again, he just finds me instead. I talk him out of it. We do a little something- something and I might not see him for ages, OK." He went back to the pancakes then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Something-something?" Rafe winced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You know, you were there last night." Dil just glared at him then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But this was our first Christmas together and you, you tell him I'm your boss. How could you?" Rafe was still in a huff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Actually, you are." Dil practically winked. "OK, I'm sorry, I think he got the hint when I kissed you, you know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That shut up Rafe then. He poured himself a cup of coffee and Dil went on with breakfast.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-5434473276129403516?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/5434473276129403516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=5434473276129403516&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/5434473276129403516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/5434473276129403516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2009/12/something-something.html' title='something-something'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4168708581725271052.post-6068100725420333457</id><published>2009-12-25T11:49:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T22:55:48.555-06:00</updated><title type='text'>that time of year</title><content type='html'>Cory could see Cass was exhausted, but at least they made it to his Mom's for Christmas. From what he'd gathered they'd spent most of the&amp;nbsp; night with the cops&amp;nbsp;who weren't to happy to go out to investigate something like that during an ice storm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, the snow kept blowing, but he and Joy had made it over. Everyone was there except Corky, who was stranded at Ella's.&amp;nbsp;Cory felt kind of bad for the little guy because Christmas eve usually meant him spending the whole night playing video games with his brother, Cody, as it was, Cody hadn't been pried from his X-Box yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I could put some new locks on the door for you," Cory said to Cass who looked like he might fall asleep on the couch. Cass tried to smile. Just then, Cady's cell rang and it was her mother. She went into another room to talk to her Mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it looked like a rotten time to tell anyone their news. No one even wanted to open Christmas presents. It looked as if they might be stuck with each other for the rest of the day as the storm raged on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He waited for Cady to come back to the livingroom. She looked to be in a tizzy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We were suppose to go to my parents." She looked a little uneasy as if someone was pissed with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cass rolled his eyes as if he could care less about any of this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, Joy cleared her throat. She wasn't even going to let Cory say it. He knew because this was her news, he guessed. He supposed he was a part of it. He was, wasn't he? He kept silent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Cory and I are going to have a baby." She smiled as if she was the queen of year or something. Naturally, his mother said nothing but went to pour herself a glass of wine. Cass just yawned as if he could sleep with his eyes open.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cady tried to smile as if she were happy for the both of them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cory had to hug Joy close. It was clear now who was running the show.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4168708581725271052-6068100725420333457?l=csats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/feeds/6068100725420333457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4168708581725271052&amp;postID=6068100725420333457&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/6068100725420333457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4168708581725271052/posts/default/6068100725420333457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://csats.blogspot.com/2009/12/that-time-of-year.html' title='that time of year'/><author><name>molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02310384819801487049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zpbArv2_fTI/TbotVDKKBmI/AAAAAAAAAdU/7gFcdWa2vGw/s220/mol.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
