Making the Grade
The thought of being a mother never crossed my mind. It was always a job for someone else, a seemingly arduous chore which most people stumbled into by stupid mistake. Not a single aspect of parenthood appealed to me in the least, and I made it nearly thirty seven years unscathed. Then my husband passed away, leaving his only son Clint behind for me to raise.

Clint and I had a congenial, but rocky relationship. With his father dead not long after Clint turned fifteen, he rebelled, and lashed out, especially towards me. I did my best to raise Clint, but without my husband here to defer to, I found myself lost and confused nearly everyday.

Clint's stumbled through high school, passing most classes by the skin of his teeth, while failing others. His chances at graduating weren't good, but his final exams ended up holding the key to his unlikely future. If Clint could pass, he had a shot. If he failed, I'm not sure where his life would end up.

Caught up in enthusiastic jubilation when Clint brought home the good news of his success, I flung my arms around him, squeezing so tight as we both fell to the couch. The Clint I felt beneath me was no longer the arrogantly rude little boy I'd come to despise. This Clint was different in every way. From his hard muscular frame, to his mysteriously black eyes, Clint had become a man, and I hadn't noticed...until now.

The journey we take together will leave our mind reeling with crushing guilt, abhorrent shame, and pleasure beyond anything either of us could ever dream up. What Clint and I share pushes the boundaries of what is acceptable, and what is not, and neither of us completely know which side we fall upon. What we do know, is our passionate love has reached unforeseen heights, and whatever consequences come, we will deal with in due time.