On the Saturday morning of Amelia’s fourteenth birthday, I got up extra early. Excitement at the gift I had for her felt good. I smiled. If this did...’t do it, nothing would. As coffee percolated, the front door tubular bells chimed; right on time.When I opened the door, Peter frowned at me. He reminded me of Tintin, his short, brush-cut red hair moussed into a spike on top in the middle.“Here!” he stated. “I quit!”I took the leash from him and smiled at the rambunctious chocolate Lab puppy.. "He seemed startled by her voice. He looked up and smiled. The smile seemed so innocent and boyish that Jane dared to smile back. He wasn't a monster after all."Oh, hi, Miss Friesen. Man, is it eight o'clock already! I got so caught up in this book..." He looked sheepish. "I'm only supposed to read three poems for tomorrow, and I've been through half the book. Talk about a keener, eh?"Jane was pleasantly surprised. Any boy who could appreciate poetry had to have some sensitivity in him. She had. More

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