Dallas
Walking up to the Smyth’s house kind of felt a little like
being a bacon wrapped ham walking up to a den of hungry
wolves. Or lions. Except maybe the wolves were friendly.
Maybe the lions were okay. Maybe they weren’t wolves or
lions at all. Maybe she was just exaggerating her worries so
that she just felt like a ham. With the bacon. Because bacon is
always supposed to make everything taste better.
Quinn told her after ice cream, before they all parted ways
until the evening, that everything would be fine. Dallas felt
like it would be fine until she left her hotel room. Then the
panic started. The thoughts about lions and wolves and hams
set in. And bacon. Except in this case, it didn’t make much of
anything better. She didn’t want to be a tasty morsel.
Dallas had Billy’s hat gripped between her fingers. She’d
brought a gift for Danica too, which she had in her left hand.
The Smyth’s bungalow still looked exactly the same. It was
kind of a trip when Quinn told her that her parents still lived in
the same house. It was a nice house. One of the nicest on the
street. Dallas loved going there as a kid. Quinn had her own
room. The house had a huge kitchen where they baked cookies
and tried out other recipes. The back yard was massive and
they’d always had an above ground pool. The basement was
developed and Quinn’s parents had turned it into a sort of
theatre with a larger TV and tons of movies. First it was VHS,
then DVD’s. Now everything was probably digital, if that
room in the basement was still the same.
It was kind of hard, getting hit with that huge blast of
memories all at once. It felt like a big wave had just washed
over her and instead of riding it out and coming up on top, she