Luke Randall wasnβt exactly what youβd call a good-looking guy, not even half-ways worthy of a second glance from a girlβs viewpoint. In fact as far as that was concerned, there werenβt any girls in Trinity, Idaho had gotten as far as even HAVING a viewpoint as to Lukeβs particular existence.Now nineteen, he had somehow completed his education at Westmore High, his grades having been no more impressive than his peer-ranking. Perhaps his science lecturer had nailed it succinctly when he wrote on Lukeβs essay βAtomic Fission: The Post War Challengesββ¦ βLuke, if you ever find yourself within the proximity of a nuclear reactor β donβt touch anything!βFive-nine at a stretch, dark lanky hair that defied any particular style. It simply grew! More than his share of acne and with a dress sense that ranked somewhere between white trailer-trash and Dennis Hopper mid adolescence.