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    Krista
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Standing In Shadows - 17. Chapter 17

SIS 17

By the time Clinton stopped kissing me we were both sweating from the heat of the day and I didn’t feel the strangeness of kissing him anymore. I hoped it lasted. Trouble was starting to get anxious, which was the reason he broke the last kiss with a smile. She had attempted to jump onto the lounge chair that we were both on. The smell of him was intensified by the heat, both our bodies shining in the intense sun.

“Wow,” I whispered causing him to smirk as he sat up.

“I think I’m going to have one bad sunburn on my back,” Clinton said smiling. He turned around and I saw his back splotched with red. My cast was itching my skin, but I didn’t care at the moment.

“Sorry about that,” I offered, but he shrugged and walked around the lounge chair. He grabbed Trouble’s bag and poured her some food on the deck of the boat. She left my chair and started eating.

“You still really suck at owning a pet,” Clinton commented as we watched Trouble cramming her face with the small puppy kibbles. Some of them rolled away from her mouth and she had to hunt them down.

“Someone keeps distracting me,” I countered and he looked down at his feet.

“We’ll need to get docked before she starts looking for a place to poo,” Clinton said and I sat up and stretched my muscles. I didn’t know how long we had been kissing.

“Poo, really?” I snickered and he shrugged.

“Want to drive back?” He asked and I nodded then followed him into the cabin. It was larger than the boat his family owned. It also had more levers and buttons, but Clinton ignored most of them as he turned the key and made the Pontoon rumble to life. He pressed the anchor retrieval button and waited a few seconds before turning to look at me. He started instructing me, like he had before. His face animated as he pointed to the throttle, then the steering wheel. He told me that he would park it, not trusting me to not destroy the small dock. I rolled my eyes, but didn’t think I could park the large boat where it had been before without taking a part of the dock with me.

When I got back to the docks I handed over the controls to him and stepped out of the cabin to find Trouble sniffing in a small circle. Afraid that she was about to make a mess I scooped her up and distracted her by letting her lick my face. Her earlier nap had made her energetic and she tried to squirm out of my hands, but I held her as Clinton parked the Pontoon. He killed the engine then he helped me gather my stuff. He held Trouble while I awkwardly climbed down the ladder. He lowered Trouble down to me and then her bags of food and treats. I watched him climb down, he jumped the last few rungs and hit the dock. We walked down the docks to a grassy area with a few shade trees at the banks of the lake. I sat Trouble down and sat in the grass while she walked to the lake and lapped up some water, chasing the small waves caused by the other boats now out on the lake. Clinton sat down beside me and we both watched, waiting for Trouble to do her business. It took her awhile to finally calm down enough to focus. We ignored the corny sign posted on the tree to clean up after they went. Clinton returned the key as we passed the building. I kept walking towards the truck, putting my stuff back in the bed of his black truck. I watched him jog, his muscular lean chest and stomach contracting and relaxing with each step.

“Where to now?” He asked slightly out of breath when we joined us at the truck.

“I better be getting home,” I said, “I need a shower something bad.”

“Me too,” he said, both of us looking flushed. I knew why I was, but didn’t know if it was the heat or the jogging that made his face redden.

“Do you want to go out later tonight?” He asked with a crooked smile. He started trying to wipe away a smudge on the shiny black paint. I smiled, surprised that the nervousness hit me as I thought about the question he asked. I didn’t know if he was asking me to hang out or something more. It had always been me asking the girls out. That I was fine with, but I had always done it because I thought it was expected of me.

“I’m not sure,” I answered, noting the frown that crossed his face. “I mean, I don’t know what Dad has planned for me when I get home.”

“Oh,” he said, seeming to remember my Dad. He smiled and nodded his head as he unlocked the truck and we climbed inside. He turned the air on, the shock of the cold air caused me to shiver. The sweat hadn’t dried and I was surprised by the goosebumps. It quickly became comfortable though as he started back towards town.

“If he isn’t too bad about me not packing and stuff, then I will like to,” I said, filling the absence of conversation.

“How long is Mayor Evans giving you guys?” He asked, glancing at me for a second.

“Two weeks,” I answered and Clinton looked surprised.

“Will that be enough time?” He asked and I frowned. It probably wouldn’t be enough time for Clinton’s family to move everything from their large house, but I lived in a small one and we didn’t have a lot of stuff to really pack away and most of what we did have was either mine or kitchen stuff.
“It probably will be more than enough time,” I answered, “and I have football camp coming up soon too.”

“Oh that’s right, three weeks,” Clinton responded looking over at me. “What will you do?”

“He will be trying to teach me to throw with my other arm,” I answered, rolling my eyes. “I’ll likely spend most of camp pissing him off, I can’t even imagine.”

“Why don’t you tell him that you’re going for Baseball this season?” He asked, looking hopeful. The baseball team spent a lot of time after school practicing.

“I want to live long enough to graduate and go to college,” I answered and he smirked.

“The baseball team not good enough for him?” He asked and I didn’t want to say what Dad thought about the baseball team. All through high school they were lucky to win half their games and never qualified for the District tournaments. The coaches were always fired after the season or quit. Our school was all about Football. The expectation to win was higher and most of the school’s athletics money went into the field and weight rooms for the team. Only one or two people ever received scholarships from colleges to play from the baseball team.

“You know it is football or nothing,” I answered looking down at my cast. I hoped Mom was able to talk some sense into him, but Dad had been determined to get me out on the field this season one way or another. I knew it wasn’t because Dad thought he couldn’t win without me. Dad and Mom both knew that college was too expensive if I didn’t get help. My grades had never been good enough to get me any Academic scholarships either. Mom had always tried to get me to focus more on school and homework, but Dad never cared as long as I made good enough grades to keep me from being benched.

“Football ends around the same time Baseball season starts up,” Clinton countered, still sounding hopeful. I would be too scared to ask. In the back of my mind I knew I would be benched all season. Mom would finally win the battle and keep me out of harm's way until my arm had time to heal completely. A season ending injury is always better than a career ending one, like Dad had suffered.

To be honest with myself, I didn’t even really enjoy football anymore. In High School I used it as an easy way to make friends and be somebody. With everything else, people were probably laughing at me behind my back. I wasn’t looking forward to walking the halls, knowing I didn’t have that to fall back on. Then Evans’ Apartments, they were designed for low-income people, but they stood hardly used. Mostly a month or two for town junkies, before they would get caught and sent back to jail. I hadn’t ever been inside the building, the outside of it was bad enough.

We both fell silent not long into the ride. Clinton still had sounded hopeful that I would give Baseball a chance. He was smiling when he glanced at me and I noticed that his palm was up while his hand was resting on the console between us. He had an empty paper McDonald’s cup in one of the holders. His arm was pointed at an angle that wasn’t natural. I kept glancing at it as carefully as I could. He had wanted to hold my hand on the way over and hoped that I would close the gap. He let out a sigh when he slowed to pull into my driveway, finally moving his arm to put the truck in park.

It was then I looked up and noticed that someone else was there. They had parked between the store and our tiny driveway. They had a small hauling trailer hitched to the back. My stomach twisted when I saw that my motorcycle was being loaded onto it. I quickly slid Trouble across the console into Clinton’s lap and opened the door. Dad was standing with a man I didn’t really know, with Mom off to the side with her arms crossed. I watched as the man handed Dad some money and Dad handed him my metallic blue helmet.

“What’s going on?” I asked slamming the door behind me. I jogged to where they were standing, I heard Clinton get out of the truck, I cringed not wanting him to be here right now, but I had just planted Trouble into his lap.

“We don’t have room for the motorcycle,” Dad said, offering the guy a quick smile and a wave.

“Hold on a minute,” I said, noticing the man was starting to turn to leave. He looked slightly familiar, but everyone in this town did. He was a few years older than me, probably a former player on one of Dad’s teams as they seemed to know one another.

“Riley,” Mom warned and that’s when I noticed the tension in her shoulders and her tight frown. Mom hadn’t known about this plan of Dad’s either.

“Don’t be an asshole son,” Dad huffed, “Shake Shawn’s hand, he just bought your bike.”

“But I wasn’t planning on selling it,” I countered looking down at Shawn’s hand as he stretched his arm out for me to shake his hand. He dropped it back to his side, which seemed to infuriate Dad.

“Well what did you expect?” Dad asked, “you have a broken arm, so you couldn’t ride it. It was sitting in the corner of a garage that we don’t own anymore, and the apartments don’t have the parking space.”

“I could have stashed it at a friend’s house!” I said my voice cracking. It had been my favorite Christmas present. Mom had gotten it for me because she had one as a child. It was also one of the rare gifts that didn’t remind me of football. It was also something that Dad hated, which made the present even better.

“Now you go on and enjoy the bike, Shawn,” Dad said forcing a smile. This time Shawn didn’t wait for my response and turned and quickly got into his truck. My fists clenched, my right one sending a throbbing pain through my broken arm.

When Shawn was down the road Dad turned on me, crossing his arms. His eyes shot to Clinton, who was still holding Trouble. His eyes focused on her for a few moments, then he smiled.

“Go home kid,” Dad said, “could you drop that mutt off at Jenny’s house on the way?”

“Dad!” I gasped and Mom stepped between the two of us.

“Don’t argue with me Cora, there isn’t any room in those apartments for a dog,” Dad said, holding up his hand.

“Sure there is,” Mom countered, “Honey, you just took away his bike, don’t take his dog.”

“I’m not doing this to be mean Cora,” Dad growled, “we both saw the apartment, there isn’t any room. No backyard, nothing.”

“I just got her!” I yelled, my voice cracking, but I didn’t care. Dad will see the tears threatening to spill down my face anyway. He looked past her to me, disgusted by my weakness.

“You’re a man Riley Corey Wells,” Dad hissed, his voice a warning. “You will make sacrifices, like the rest of us.”

“Yeah?” I said before I was able to bite my tongue. “What are you giving up?”

“Last time I checked, I was giving up the house that me and your Mother worked hard to keep,” Dad said, stepping up to stand a few inches away from me. I could see the coldness in his eyes, I wanted to look away but knew if I did he would roughly grab my chin and force me to look at him. It was what men did. “You didn’t pay any bills, you just cost us money.”

“Now that is quite enough,” Mom said, then she turned to Clinton. “Clinton, could you take Trouble to Jenny’s, she can watch her until we get settled with the move.”

“Cora,” Dad started, but Mom held up her hand.

“I will Mrs. Wells,” Clinton said then quickly turned and put Trouble into the front drivers’ seat of his truck. The window was cracked and I could hear her whimpering. I was surprised how heavy my heart felt hearing her struggle to get out of the truck. In the short time that I had her I had grown fond of her; even if I did forget to feed her sometimes. “I’ll see you later Corey.”

“Yeah,” I said, reaching up to wipe the tears away before they got too far down my face. Clinton didn’t waste any time backing out of the driveway and I wondered how embarrassed he was by the whole scene. It sure made me feel like shit. Crying over a bike and a puppy. My face flushed all over again wondering what he thought of me now. How childish I must have looked. I couldn’t help it though, there were so few things that made me happy in this little town. Even then they weren’t really mine since they could so easily be taken away.

“No you won’t,” Dad said as Clinton disappeared behind a small hill, headed towards the better part of town where he and Jenny lived.

“Won’t what?” I asked turning to look him in the eyes again.

“See him later,” Dad responded, “you have your shit to pack up.”

“What you didn’t give away,” I said and Dad looked like he was going to hit me. He hadn’t spanked me or took his belt to me since I turned thirteen. It was when I really started to listen to him and even respected him. Now that I was older there were a few times I pushed him far enough to think about it, but he never had. It would be something that would enrage Mom and she was still standing there. He probably would have taken the chance if he knew he could get away with it.

“Lee,” Mom said, “you can sleep on the couch tonight.”

“Cora, that’s enough,” Dad argued, “it all had to be done.”

“That is where you’re wrong,” Mom said, her own voice cracking. She ignored Dad and turned to walk towards the house. She knew he would follow her. I could hear him saying things under his breath trying to get her to stop. When they were both inside I let out a long sigh and allowed the rest of the tears and my frustration take over. The sun was already turning the sky a dark pink and orange as it began to set. The lightning bugs were already starting to blink and rise from their hiding places and the crickets were already starting to chirp. I looked up seeing the bats darting around, replacing the birds in the sky. There weren’t any clouds in sight, a typical summer night here. Usually it was a peaceful part of the day when the suffocating heat would break a little. Mom would just be finishing dinner and we would be sitting around the table. Dad would ask me a few questions, tell me to practice a little football after work some time and Mom would playfully roll her eyes. She would start talking about some of the stories she heard some of the old men talking about. Dad would laugh a few times, but I could always tell that he’d rather just finish his meal so he could sit outside on the small back porch and drink a few beers.

I would help Mom clean the dishes, I was supposed to do them by myself, but we had both had similar days at the store. I would do more heavy lifting and most of the restocking, so she always helped me with the dishes. Dad knew, but didn’t put up much of a fight or complain that I should do them and not be lazy.

Those were good days in the house. Days I could stomach and actually smile about sometimes. Summers were a lot of work and not much else, but I would give all this freedom up if we could go back to that. Now all I had was worries and frustration that I didn’t really know how to manage.

After a while I thought it was safe enough to enter the house. Mom hadn’t come looking for me, but I figured she was ignoring Dad and Dad would have given up on trying to weasel his way back into the bedroom tonight. I smiled knowing the couch was small and too uncomfortable for him. He’ll likely be stiff in the morning and cranky. It was a tactic Mom used a lot to get her way, but this time Dad held firm. He didn’t say anything when I entered the house. They had done some packing. The lamps and end tables were off to the corner and there were boxes labeled ‘Winter Clothes,’ taped up and off to the side.

“Go pack your winter clothes,” Dad ordered, “there are boxes on your bed.”

“Ok,” I said, noticing that his voice no longer had the rough authority it had out in the front yard. It was more reserved, but he still expected me to follow orders.

Walking into my room I saw what was left of Trouble’s things in the shopping bag where I left them. Her water bowl was still there so I picked it up and walked across the hall and dumped the rest of it in the toilet. Then I dried it and put it back in the shopping bag. Then I walked over to my closet, in the back would be my winter coats and clothes. I grabbed as many as I could and walked the few steps between my closet and the bed. I laid them down then I put the box together, taping the bottom. It was already labeled with my name on it. I sighed as I started removing hangers and folding them as best I could with my cast. When I got the first arm load in the box I turned towards my closet again but I stopped, noticing something in my bedroom window. Then I heard a soft tapping noise and my heart fluttered, but then I noticed the figure had long hair and was shorter than Clinton. I carefully unlocked the window and slid it open. It was rarely ever opened so it made a squeak, which caused me to jump and look behind me.

“Hi Corey,” Jenny whispered looking behind me to make sure we were alone. She glanced at the box on my bed and frowned. “Already packing?”

“I guess Dad wants it done as soon as possible,” I answered shrugging.

“Clinton told me that I had to babysit your dog,” Jenny said, raising an eyebrow. “It was strange when you never said anything about it.”

“It was kind of a surprise for me too,” I said and the tone of my voice was harsher than I intended. She looked at me for a few moments, until I stepped away from the window to get the rest of my winter clothes out of the closet.

“Why are you hanging out with Clinton anyway?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. “Isn’t he Cj’s little friend, practically his shadow?”

“Yeah,” I answered, glancing at her at the window. “We’re just friends.”

“He seemed pretty upset about something,” she commented as I started folding the clothes, not really paying as much attention before. She giggled then awkwardly climbed into my room. I still hated seeing her in my room. Knowing that her guest room, that was barely used, was twice the size of my room. Remembering Greg and I talking in there made my face flush, but the conversation seemed too far away now.

“Probably embarrassed about being here when Dad was being his usual self,” I said, forcing a tight smile as I put together a second box. I awkwardly folded my winter coats and tried to hide my long underwear Dad made me wear during cold game days. She giggled again and I shot her a glare.

“You’re a mess,” she whispered, coming over to sit on my bed. I didn’t like her there, but I wasn’t really wanting to push her out the door like I did the last time. She had already seen that I had nothing to my name in here, nothing that I really valued or wasn’t tied to football. When I turned to look at her she was studying my trophy case, the second largest thing in my room apart from the bed. It was filled with youth league football trophies and few footballs when I received the game ball for being player of the game. There were a few pictures of Dad and me in there as well, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at them right now.

“Sorry,” I said and she let out a sigh and slid off the bed. She walked around it to where I was standing and wrapped me into a hug. Her small body was comforting though. I rested my chin gently against the top of her head. Her hair smelled of strawberries. I awkwardly put my arms around her, making sure my cast didn’t scrape her skin.

“Do you want to sneak out?” She asked, breaking the hug.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I answered glancing towards my bedroom door. It was open and at any time Dad could come busting through or Mom could come knock gently on the door frame, checking on me.

“You smell like hot plastic and old deodorant,” she said laughing slightly.

“I meant to take a shower,” I said, “before Dad started in on me, I kinda forgot about it.”

“Well instead of sneaking, why don’t you have your Mom wrap your arm and ask her?” Jenny suggested, she looked too hopeful about getting me out of the house that I couldn’t tell her no again. I smiled, rolling my eyes. She looked victorious as she walked over to the open window and slid her leg through.

“How did you get here without being noticed anyway?” I asked as I helped her get back through the small window. She hit the ground awkwardly, but didn’t fall. I looked behind me expecting Dad to have heard something.

“I parked over at the church and walked,” she said looking behind her. Other than the church's security light pole that was always on, it was pitch black. “It took almost all my courage.” I shook my head trying not to laugh as I handed her a flashlight. She took it gratefully.

“Wait a second, I’ll go ask Mom,” I said and quickly walked around my bed and out the door. Mom was in the room packing away Dad and her dress clothes. When she saw me she weakly smiled. She had been crying and my heart sank seeing the dried mascara smudged like two black eyes.

“I’m sorry about all that Riley,” she said and I almost lost my nerve about asking for her permission to go out.

“It’s not your fault,” I said shrugging my shoulders. “We’ll get Trouble back, Dad hates the couch.”

“I’m sorry about the motorcycle too,” she said and another tear slipped down her cheek.

“Don’t cry,” I said walking over to her. I wrapped her into an awkward hug and she rested her head on my chest. When I felt her relax and let out a long sigh, she broke the hug and wrinkled her nose.

“You smell really bad,” she said, “what did you and Clinton get into?”

“He took me out on a Pontoon,” I said shrugging, “I guess the plastic lounge chairs didn’t smell good.”

“Do you want me to wrap your arm so you can take a shower?” Mom asked and I nodded as she stood. She smiled patting me on the back as she walked around me. I followed her to the bathroom and held out my arm for her to start wrapping it.

“Can I ask you something else?” I said and she stopped wrapping my arm. She seemed to study me for a brief moment before she smiled.

“Yeah go ahead,” she answered as she used some tape to secure the plastic wrap.

“Is it ok if I sneak out with Jenny tonight?” I said and her eyebrows shot up.

“Corey,” she hissed and my face flushed.

“No Mom, God not like that,” I hissed quickly and she seemed to relax.

“Well you are seventeen,” Mom said, “I just never figured you’d ask my permission or something, it caught me off guard.”

“No, she just wants to cheer me up, I think Clinton told her about the fight, might go see a movie or something,” I stammered, knowing I was rambling. I wanted to ease her mind and my own at the same time.

“I guess so,” Mom said, “but please lock your bedroom door, I told your father to leave you alone tonight.”

“Ok,” I said smiling, “thanks.”

“And don’t call home unless it is an emergency,” she said, “if he knew you were out instead of packing...”

“I know,” I gently interrupted. She smiled and left me alone. I quickly walked across the hall to my bedroom and told Jenny that I was going. Then she told me to hurry, that she didn’t like hovering outside of the house with all the bugs. So I grabbed some clothes, knowing she would be waiting in the light my room gave off and I hurried to take a shower, smiling because I knew I was taking a big risk, sneaking out on Dad and that for once I really didn’t care.

Copyright © 2014 Krista; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

Poor Corey. He father is such an asshole. At least Corey and his Mom are standing up to him - although Corey has to be more careful than her. Something has to break soon. In my books his father selling his motorcycle would have been the last straw. I think Corey quitting football and going to play baseball would be a great idea - he could even get a scholarship there because I'm sure he'll be good enough.

Good story - thanks

  • Like 2
On 10/15/2012 12:04 AM, Terry P said:
Poor Corey. He father is such an asshole. At least Corey and his Mom are standing up to him - although Corey has to be more careful than her. Something has to break soon. In my books his father selling his motorcycle would have been the last straw. I think Corey quitting football and going to play baseball would be a great idea - he could even get a scholarship there because I'm sure he'll be good enough.

Good story - thanks

Thanks! I'm glad you are liking the story and reading! There have been many breaking points in this story between Corey and his father Lee, but Corey never took it to that level, he always backed off... will he ever take it to that level? ;)
  • Like 1

Corey's father is a real ass. I can't believe he just sold Corey's motorcycle (even though I hate them. lol) right from under Corey's nose. And Corey had no say in it! AND he was also trying to get rid of Trouble.

 

Thank God Corey has such a great mom. I don't know what she ever saw in his father.

 

Thanks for updating so quickly Krista! I can't wait for the next chapter. Hopefully Clinton will tag along too and they can ditch Jenny.....oohhh, poor Jenny, if she only knew she'll never get anywhere with Corey. lol

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On 10/15/2012 02:21 PM, Lisa said:
Corey's father is a real ass. I can't believe he just sold Corey's motorcycle (even though I hate them. lol) right from under Corey's nose. And Corey had no say in it! AND he was also trying to get rid of Trouble.

 

Thank God Corey has such a great mom. I don't know what she ever saw in his father.

 

Thanks for updating so quickly Krista! I can't wait for the next chapter. Hopefully Clinton will tag along too and they can ditch Jenny.....oohhh, poor Jenny, if she only knew she'll never get anywhere with Corey. lol

Yeah.. his Daddy will get worse before it gets better.. ;) hint hint.. :P I was actually worried about how Cora - his mother will be portrayed throughout the story. Glad people are seeing the.. sort of subtle strength and power she has over her husband.. ;) Even when he's growling like a big bear.. lol.
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I started reading this story after you posted "Force of Nature." Corey's dad is the epitome of the small town football coach/former high school football star/bully. I really look forward to the day Corey tells him to stick it. Since when did it become alright to sell your son's bike, a present, without even telling him and then pocketing the money. I keep wanting Corey to just tell him no. I can imagine the look on his face... priceless.

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On 04/03/2015 04:16 PM, drpaladin said:
I started reading this story after you posted "Force of Nature." Corey's dad is the epitome of the small town football coach/former high school football star/bully. I really look forward to the day Corey tells him to stick it. Since when did it become alright to sell your son's bike, a present, without even telling him and then pocketing the money. I keep wanting Corey to just tell him no. I can imagine the look on his face... priceless.
Thanks for reading! He 'is' so typical it's scary how many people call fall into that sort of character. Maybe they do see eye to eye later. :) I hope you enjoy the rest of the story.
  • Like 1

I get the apartment didn’t have room for the motorcycle could actually be a reasonable reason to sell it yet it was Corey’s property. His dad will pocket the money for himself and he didn’t care about how his son would feel about him selling away something that was an example of his limited freedom. All he cares about is himself and I have no doubt that their money issues are at least in part because of him.

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