Blog Tour, Short Story fun, and other goodies on a Wednesday :)

By: Meradeth Houston on 4:00 AM

Still in Yellowstone :) Hopefully we haven't been eaten by bears, wolves, or other miscellaneous carnivores by the time you're reading this! Thanks to those stopping by, and I do apologize if I'm a little late on the commenting!

Today, I'm hanging out with some more fabulous bloggers. Do stop by and show them some love! The Daily Harrell, and Erin Albert (who you simply must follow because she's great!) are both hosting me today!

And now back to the short story. Parts I & II & III.

Entry #4

~Photography was last period. I had extra film I’d taken over break and lost track of time after the final bell, content in the dim light of the darkroom, the smell of the chemicals comforting. Each of the images slid into focus as I ran them through the series of chemical baths, finally hanging them to dry.

It was dusk when I emerged. The sight of James leaning against the fence, Richie hunched nearby, talking, caught me by surprise.

Richie was the last person I’d expect James to befriend. James would fit in easily with the popular crowd. He had the bearing and confidence that meant he wouldn’t have to try, even after snubbing Steven.

Richie must have heard the doors because he looked up. I tentatively waved, caught spying on them. Richie turned and walked away without returning the gesture.

James didn’t follow him. Instead, he walked toward me. I did my best to ignore him, though I couldn’t keep myself from watching him through my lashes.

“Sandra.”

“I see you’ve figured out my name.” I wasn’t sure if I was happy or annoyed by that.

“It wasn’t too hard. The real question is whether you’ll come with me for a pop?”

My laugh caught even me off guard. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you want to.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m glad you think that. But no thank you. I need to get home.”

He was quiet for a moment but I resisted the urge to look at him.

I reached my car, rummaging through my bag for my keys. The car was ancient but ran well,

even if it sounded like a tank.

“What were you talking to Richie about anyhow?” I asked when the silence got too awkward.

“Matters of life, death, and what it means to bridge one to the other.” His tone was light enough I didn’t believe him. Perhaps I should have paid more attention.

“Well, that sounds enlightening. You have fun with that.” I got into the tank and slammed the heavy door shut. Only with that barrier did I dare glance at James. He looked at me with a cool, distant look I later knew meant he was plotting something. At that point, I was clueless about what that might mean for me.