To Stay Away-Chapter 1

"When are you leaving?" asked Mrs. Evans. She did not look up at her husband, but continued knitting.
"We still have maybe three months, it's no hurry." He responded. He looked sadly at his fourteen-year-old daughter, Helena.
"So we have three months with you...and then, you just leave?" This time Mrs. Evans looked up at Mr. Evans, but there was no emotion on her face.
"What do you mean? I'll come back in another four years." Mr. Evans explained.
"Yes, but war is harsh. We may loose you." Mrs. Evans was now trying her hardest to hold back the billions of tears that were about to pour out of her eyes like a rainstorm.
"Daddy, please don't go. I love you. Georgia from school has no father, because he passed away in a battle a few years ago. I don't want to end up like her." Helena buried her face in her hands.
"Well, I'm going. No one is going to stop me. Even if I may die, I'm going. This is my country, and I have to fight for it." Mr. Evans stood up and walked to his bedroom without a noise. Mrs. Evans smacked her needle down on the table and went to comfort her daughter.
"It's OK, sweetheart. Your father needs to learn not to be selfish and make us feel miserable when he dies. God is watching over us. It'll be alright."

"Hey, Ronald!" James Wilson parked his bike in front of an old, wooden house. His best friend, Ronald Derwitz, was shooting basketballs.
"Hi, James. What are you doing here? I thought you were grounded." Ronald replied.
"I am, I just came over here to tell your family something interesting." After saying this, James covered his face with his gloves.
"Oh, so your mom sent you? Come in, you're about to freeze to death." Ronald shot a final basket and led James into the house.
"Hello, James. I didn't expect to see you here." Mrs. Derwitz was sitting on the sofa reading a love story.
"Oh, I'm still grounded. My mother just had some interesting news to share. It's spreading all over the neighborhood, but she figured it hadn't reached you yet." James explained.
"Well have a seat! I'm all ears!" Mrs. Derwitz was always in the mood for gossip. James took a seat next to Ronald.
"Well, the word on the street is that Mr. Evans from 921 Cocktail Street is going to war. I think he might be leaving in February or March. Mrs. Evans isn't too happy." James told Mrs. Derwitz.
"Oh? And what about Helena?" Mrs. Derwitz looked wide-eyed straight at James. His face turned red. He hadn't forgotten to mention Helena, he just didn't want to. He liked Helena...he actually "liked" Helena. And the name just gave him the chills. Or maybe it wasn't her name. Maybe it was her long, graceful black hair, or her piercing sky blue eyes. He wasn't sure, but something about her made him want to avoid her.
"Oh, their daughter...she's pretty sad. I feel sorry for her, because I lost my dad too." James cared about Helena, even though he'd only spoken to her once in his entire life.
"Yeah, he likes her." Ronald told his mom. James wasn't going to argue. Instead he just zipped up his coat and straightened his gloves. Mrs. Derwitz told him good-bye, not even showing concern that he was riding a rusty old bike home in the middle of winter.
As James was riding his bike down the street, he noticed that the Evans' home was the only home that wasn't decorated for the Christmas holiday. Without thinking, he stopped in front of the Evans' house and ran up the driveway. He spotted a window with hot pink drapes. That could only mean one thing-that window was Helena's window.
He had seen a lot of movies when the dreamy boy threw rocks at the beautiful girl's window to get her attention. However, he didn't really want to take any chances at breaking a window, so he made a snowball. He didn't even know if a snowball would make any noise, but hey-snowballs don't come flying at your window everyday.
He threw the snowball at the window. He waited a few seconds. No answer. He threw another. When he was about to reach down for another, that spine-chilling girl came to the window.
"What are you doing?" Helena asked.
"I wanted to talk to you. I'm James. The last time you talked to me was in fourth grade. Don't you remember me?"James looked up at her hopefully. When she smiled, he smiled back.
"Long time, no see. Look, I can't really talk right now. Can you call me?" Helena had to whisper so her parents wouldn't hear her. James shrugged his shoulders.
"I don't know your number!" he reminded her. Helena laughed at her stupidity.
"239-8740!" she hollered, forgetting all about her parents.
"Oh, ok. Well, what's your e-mail?" he loved girls, but with Helena, he felt at home on a concrete driveway covered with soft snow. She rolled her eyes.
"My e-mail is [e-mail]." Helena told him.
"I see you've made a new friend," said Mr. Evans. "Go with your mother."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Evans." James tried to make a quick escape before again hearing Mr. Evans' voice.
"James, James, James."