Joel POV I stared at the email. They had moved the date up on Miranda's conference and she was going to be here in two days. I felt his heart pounding in his chest, from excitement and nervousness. Showing any emotion here was a weakness, especially emotions attached to a woman, so I tried not to let it show in my face or body language. I have recently started communicating with Miranda via emails, which is so much faster than that of the postal service. Although, I do like getting handwritten letters as I can read them at any time and not just when I am at the computer. They had recently brought the email function to the institutions, expediting communication but there was a catch. The emails do not work exactly like regular ones on the outside. Our emails go through like a filter. If certain trigger words or phrases are used, then the email gets held up and reviewed versus perused. Also, if any pictures are attached, then the email is held up so the picture can be reviewed for
Miranda POV The conference is every bit of boredom and stuffy-suit-productions as I assumed it would be. Nancy has been flirting non stop for three days with every single man who crossed our path and I have heard enough fake laughter to last me a lifetime. I have personally seen her pass out her number twenty six times under the guise of ‘helping establish a program similar to ours’, passing Amanda’s original guess of twenty five yesterday afternoon. Not to mention, those are times I actually witnessed the number exchange with my own eyes and ears. One can only assume that many more men have received such invitations. We were able to describe the indigenous language revitalization project we were working on and how the grant funding we received under the Department of Education and Borough of Indian Affairs had helped fund our project and the initial benefits that we have seen in the indigenous communities to date. Along with preserving native languages, the goal is to unite the c
Josh POV I slept like shit and was dragging ass all morning. "What's up man?" Shotgun inquired as soon as we woke up. "You were kinda quiet last night." I don't tell Shotgun, the last thing I need is his razzing. But yeah, I tossed and turned all night. "Just thinking about this visit with Miranda. Worried she won't like me."Shotgun kinda chuckled but gave me a look like he knew the reality of that statement. I can say now that I’m basically a good guy. Minimally, too good for prison but it hadn't always been like that. Presenting yourself in person is so different from doing it in an email or phone call. The years inside also put a type of edge on you. You can see it in someone's eyes who has done any lengthy amount of time. Someone once noted that they were like a cake in the oven. Needing and ready to come out. If they stayed in any longer they would burn and would be no good. That is kinda the worry. Not to mention, it's hard to impress a girl when you have nothing to impress
Miranda POV I was facing Joel and trying desperately to not stare appreciatively at the swell in his pants that I’m sure I had caused when we kissed and pressed myself tightly against him. My cheeks burned red and my core clenched as I glanced up and saw the crooked smirk on his face, catching me staring at his package. He shifted purposefully, forcing his pants to tighten against his harness, making the outline more prominent and I felt my panties dampen. "Like what you see?" interrupted where my thoughts were taking me and now my whole face and neck felt like they were on fire. "Its okay baby cause as you can tell, I really like what I see."I really didn't know how to respond to such forwardness, I had never been with a man this assertive and to be honest I was always a little shy anyways. I thought he said he was nervous as hell but he sure didn't act like it. He sat there and spoke as if he was quite sure of himself and while I was turned on, I was also confused. Is this just
Miranda POV My visit with Joel can be described as nothing more than confusing. I knew that I liked him. Hell, I even caught myself calling him my prison boyfriend sometimes. Still, in the back of my mind, I kept telling myself that this visit may in fact, put things into perspective for me. I could finally quit feeling like a highschool girl crushing on the bad boy who keeps getting suspended so you can't even stare at him in world history class. I’ll end up forming a whole relationship in my head, based on limited contact and then get frustrated when it doesn't work out the way I want it to. Because that is exactly what is happening here, I'm starting to fall for a man I can never have because he is locked up in prison for an undetermined amount of time and there is absolutely nothing I can do about that fact. Everything is limited and under the control of others, including our phone calls. However, after seeing him, it only made my high school girl crush problems worse. Not
Joel POV I lay in my bed, thinking of my near perfect visit with Miranda from the kiss to the casual conversation and everything in between. It's difficult to even describe in words the feeling that I have lacked for so long. I guess the clearest way is that I feel peaceful and happy. Can it really be that simple? Of course, when something good happens it is always followed by something bad and my peaceful disposition is rudely interrupted by flashbacks of the past. I heard his voice and I instantly felt anger fill my veins, remembering what she had told me about the abuse she had suffered at his hand. She squealed and I came around the bush only to find him facing me with his arms around her in a hug. His eyes got wide as he saw the gun and he instantly relaxed his hug on her. She slipped from his arms as I raised the pistol, pointing it to his face. I felt like a hero as I drew back my arm and hit him across the head with the weapon. He fell to the ground as I stepped in and sl
Joel POV After a few hours of writing, scratching out what I had just written, and just simply planning how I would convey what Ineeded to convey in such a small provided space, I set the pen down and laid back. It was amazing how mentally exhausting that was. I would still wait for Shotgun to come back in and review what I had written before transferring it to the official form. In the meantime, thoughts of what he had written will swirl around in my head because I had a tendency to overthink shit. The questions were simple enough: Along with the first one there was Discuss issues surrounding your crime. Do you admit guilt of your offense(s)? Do you have feelings of remorse? What have I learned since my incarceration? Why should you be granted parole? Why is your parole plan good? And the section for additional comments. However, the answers were so much more complex. On top of all this, I need to make a decision of whether or not to tell Miranda that I am up for parole. I ha
“Amanda, he did not kill his girlfriend! I already read the charges. It was probably like he hit someone while speeding or he had a gun that accidentally went off. That is what manslaughter is. It's not murder. I looked it up already,” I plead, “So turn the computer off. I need you to be supportive. It's not like I have anyone else in my life that supports my decisions and this is important to me. He is the only person I have felt a connection to in a long time. Don't take that from me. Please.” “Oh, God. You don't have to get so emotional,” raising her body from the computer chair and meandering into the kitchen. She grabs a bottle of Pinot from the counter. I'm not much of a wine drinker but I always seem to have plenty around. A couple years ago Nancy had a wine party and I won some wine of the month club membership so every quarter I get delivered a box of wine. Who am I to complain about free booze, but I always wonder when this prize expires. Am I just going to get free w