Linda knew she was being followed. Her plans were in the final stages, and she congratulated herself on her success. She had begun by confronting Richard at every opportunity, although she made certain there was always a crowd nearby, for protection. She had made remarks, just in earshot of the boy that she would have never before dared.

"Oh, here comes that Richard," she had said to a group of her girlfriends. "You knew why they don't call him Dick? Because he doesn't have one!"

Richard had taken her comments in stunned silence at first, but lately he had looked at her with cool detachment, as if he were planning something.

He was, and he failed.

Like a rocket launching, Linda planned her own moves. When she was to walk home, she made sure some friends of hers, or her brother, met her near the old, abandoned house, where it would be easy for an assault. Once, she had seen Richard behind the bushes just before five of her friends showed up. She enjoyed the momentary terror she had felt, wondering if she would, indeed, be alone, then became thrilled with victory when he'd stepped back into the shadows at the sounds of the giggling voices.

"Sorry we're late," her girlfriend said, repeating her line.

"Oh, that's OK," Linda, said loudly. "What could possibly happen to me?"

"Well, you know that Richard Wilder has been giving you the eye," the girl repeated from memory.

"Oh, him?" Linda said. "He wouldn't know what to do to a girl if he found one. All bark and no bite."