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OwlCrate and Dragons

owlcrate

OwlCrate is a monthly box subscription service with a YA box and an OwlCrate Jr. box for the younger readers.

For Rachel’s birthday, I got her a couple of months subscription of the YA box. It was something that she always seemed to want, and I was more than happy to splurge for her birthday.

Even if her birthday was at the beginning of the month and the boxes ship out between the fifteenth and twentieth of every month, but it gave her something more to look forward to!

The box came today, and September’s theme was Mythical Creatures. It involves a lot of dragons! There was a pin, a gorgeous bookmark, a cozy book sleeve, bath salts and, of course, a book. Before She Ignites is the first of Jodi Meadows’ Fallen Isles trilogy and was published, like, a couple of days ago. It definitely sounds interesting, so check it out if it wasn’t on your radar!

Have you ever subscribed to OwlCrate? Know anyone else who has?

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Posted by on September 15, 2017 in Home

 

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Sunday Scribble – “Saucer”

Saucer
First Part | Previous Part

“Your dragon Toasted—”

“Toasty,” the tower man, who had introduced himself as Fraden, corrected Brom as he poured tea for the four of us.

“Whatever.” Brom waved his free hand dismissively. His other hand was holding the ice-encased rock that Luella had spelled up against a nasty bump that he had gotten while chasing down Toasty. The dragon itself was perched back up on the roof, but its snout was nearly poking through the window as it watched us lounge around the small dining table its master had set up in the tower.

Brom continued with, “Your dragon has been terrorizing the nearby village. We were commissioned to slay it and rescue any of its victims that happened to still be alive here in the tower.”

“You’re mistaken,” Fraden said, settling down next to Simon. Simon raised an eyebrow at me from across the table, either at the man’s blunt and confident statement or at me smuggling the tea saucer under my coat.

I figured the fancy plate could earn us a few gold coins since it didn’t seem like we were going to be rewarded for rescuing anyone.

Fraden didn’t notice, as he kept a steady gaze on Brom. “Toasty has never gone near the village, and he certainly hasn’t taken any so-called victims.”

“We smelled burned corpses,” Luella said.

“Toasty likes his food cooked,” Fraden said, “but he doesn’t eat humans. Too sinewy and stringy with muscles.” I clamped my mouth shut, not wanting to ask how Fraden would know that particular detail. He added, “Toasty mainly hunts deer and bear from the forests. Once in a while he’ll head toward the sea to snatch a shark if he feels like seafood.”

“Pretty sure we can tell the difference between cooked bear meat and humans,” Brom said. “That, and the village people have seen maidens getting kidnapped by a large, flying reptile. What’s your answer for that?”

“Have you tried the wyvern caves to the north?” Fraden sipped at his tea, his smallest finger sticky out as he held up his cup.

“Were we tracking down the wrong creature?” Simon deadpanned.

Luella groaned and stood up, her chair scrapping against the floor. “Well, let’s go, then! There’s no telling how many people may be in trouble with these wyverns!”

“Wait.” I stopped her from moving and looked at Fraden. “Why are you here alone in a tower with a dragon?”

“I enjoy Toasty’s company more so than people’s,” he said with a slight shrug. “Besides, there’s not many who wish to get too close to me once they find out how large my guard dog is, you know?”

“Huh. Fair enough.” I got up, my curiosity satisfied for the time being.

“If you four are not frightened off by Toasty,” Fraden said as we straightened out our belongings, “then you are welcome to visit anytime. As long as, of course, you don’t try to steal any more of my belongings. Please return the saucer to the table.”

Simon snorted as I sighed and took out the small dish from my pocket, returning it as requested.

“We apologize for that,” Luella said, and I ignored her narrowed gaze while heading to the door. “Perhaps we will take up on your offer to visit again, Fraden. Thank you for the information and take care.”

“Sorry about, uh, attacking, I guess,” Brom added as we finally left. When we were further down the road, Brom turned to me. “You must be losing your touch if he noticed a little tea cup plate missing.”

I smirked and merely opened my pack while we walked to wordlessly reveal the tea kettle nestled among my other treasures.

 
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Posted by on September 3, 2017 in Scribbles

 

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Sunday Scribble — “Toasty”

Toasty

“Alright, what’s the plan?” Simon asked. We were as dignified as we could be while hiding in the bushes that grew wildly along the path toward the dragon’s tower.

“We kill it,” Brom said. “Who needs a plan?”

“How are we just going to kill it?” I asked. “It’s a flying furnace!”

“Shhh.” Luella held a finger in front of her lips, but her eyes were trained on the dragon resting atop of the tower’s roof. “Perhaps someone can distract it, bring it down lower, then a couple of others can help slay it. The fourth can find a way into the tower and see if there is anyone in there who can be freed.”

“You mean if there’s anyone who is not a crispy corpse?” I asked dryly while holding back a sneeze.

Casually, Luella responded, “That’s right.”

“Well, you have the lock picks.” Simon nudged me. “I vote you do the tower climbing. Who wants to be the distraction?” The rest of us stared at him, and he rolled his eyes. “Seriously, why am I always the distraction?”

“You have the biggest mouth,” Brom said without missing a beat. “Lu and I will be your back-up. Get the dragon low enough so my axe can impale it and Lu’s spells can reach it.”

Simon grumbled even as he unhooked his harp from the back of his pack. “Think it likes folk music?”

“Since when can you play folk music on a harp?” Bard asked.

“Since always,” Simon retorted. “Your uncouth ears just can never tell the difference.”

“Be careful,” I said as Simon left our wayward hiding place. I didn’t take too much longer in leaving as well, taking a roundabout way to reach the base of the tower. Huddling in the shadows of the stone building, I carefully looked up, praying to whatever gods Luella calls on for her spells that the dragon wouldn’t notice me.

Judging by how quickly the reptile’s head spun around when I heard the first plinks of Simon’s harp, I wouldn’t have to worry. While Simon’s music wasn’t that bad, he was a much better distraction than a musician.

I paused long enough to allow the dragon’s wings to stretch out, catching the wind as it brought along snatches of Simon’s song. As soon as the dragon took off from the roof, I circled the tower to find the door by the base and got to work on the lock.

Three lock picks later, I was inside and face with a spiraling staircase. I took them two at a time until I started to get a stitch in my side, and any sense of urgency went out the very few windows I passed.

“This is punishment for not joining the others on Brom’s workout regimen at the last town, isn’t it?” I muttered to whatever god wished to listen.

There was a screech from outside the tower and the telltale sound of shattering ice. Luella must have used some sort of freezing spell, no doubt to counter any sort of fire that the dragon expelled. Brom’s explicit-filled voice shouted with battle cries and rage, accompanied by the occasional crash.

All while some cheery folk music was plucked from a harp.

“Finally.” I reached the landing at the top of the stairs only to face a heavy, black iron door. Jiggling the knob, I hoped that I had enough lock picks to break through the lock mechanisms.

“Who’s there?” asked a voice from inside.

“A rescue party,” I responded. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you out in a few minutes—”

“Rescue party?” The voice was utterly baffled. “I didn’t order a rescue party.”

“The village did,” I said, “and we always deliver. Sit tight, I’ll get the door open soon–!”

The door swung open from the inside and, after regaining my balance from almost pitching forward, I found myself staring at a skinny, dark-skinned man, his eyebrows furrowed as he scrutinized me.

I took a deep breath as realization dawned. “You don’t need rescuing.”

“I do not,” he said with a simple head shake. “If you excuse me, I need to see what is upsetting Toasty—”

“Toasty?!”

“Well, yes, one of the first things he burned was my bread when he was no bigger than us—”

“You have GOT to be kidding me!” I threw my hands up in the air. “The rest of my party was distracting the dragon so I could rescue whoever was stuck here in the tower.”

“I suggest you call them off,” the man said mildly, turning to the large window on the far side of the wall. “I would be very upset if they hurt Toasty, and I’m sure you would be upset if Toasty hurt them.”

 
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Posted by on August 27, 2017 in Scribbles

 

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Sunday Scribble – “Sing-Along”

Sing-Along

“Shall we start a sing-along?”

I turned and gave Simon a bemused look, seeing him grinning in turn at the rest of us as he all but bounced by Luella on the path. “I’m sure singing will ruin the element of surprise that we’re going for, won’t it?” I asked.

“Aw, c’mon, we’re trying to find a dragon,” Simon said. “Don’t dragons, ya know, have noses and stuff to smell us coming? It wouldn’t matter if it heard us.”

“I’d rather not get baked by a dragon’s flames while singing a tavern song, thanks,” Brom said dryly.

“Maybe we can sing the dragon to sleep,” Luella said with a small, teasing smile.

“Don’t encourage him,” Brom muttered.

“Aw, c’mon, singing’s fun—”

I interrupted Simon by saying, “I vote we keep quiet on the path. Not only do we not want to invoke the dragon before we’re ready, we don’t know how many people, friendly or otherwise, are around this area.”

“Yeah, keep your mouth shut so bandits don’t find us,” Brom translated for Simon.

Simon huffed but he listened and honestly didn’t say much at all for the remainder of the walk. The village was a mere dot on the horizon at the base of the hill below us when we first smelled the stench of smoke.

Luella sneezed. “That’s… not just a campfire.”

“It’s burned corpses,” Brom said grimly.

I took a deep breath to steel myself, immediately coughed due to the stench, then straightened up. “I think we found our dragon…”

“Why are we going after a dragon again?” Simon asked. “Is this for gold?”

“It’s stealing maidens from the village,” Luella said. “I think this is more important than gold!”

“Although gold would be nice,” Brom mused, “our main goal is to be nice people and try to slay the dragon—”

A screech echoed as overhead leathery wings beat through the air, carrying the reptile north. I stared at the creature’s underbelly, marveling at the glint of the gray scales from the midday sun.

Instead of slaying the creature, perhaps we could tame it…

 
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Posted by on August 20, 2017 in Scribbles

 

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Sunday Scribble – “Blight Part Two”

Blight – Part Two
Previous Part

The Blight was not a friendly part of the castle city, not even to someone in a respectable uniform of one of the noble houses. The alleys stank of piss and sex, the natural musk of those who cared only enough to live in order to survive.

Emery did his best to move out of there as quickly as his dignity could manage.

“There you are.” Ridge let Emery back in through the servants’ entrance of the Harding estate. “You’re in one piece, to boot. How did it go?”

Emery shook his head. “Not too well. Thieves apparently are only interested in their own pockets. They want to be certain they get rewarded no matter what they do.”

“Well, it was a long-shot,” Ridge said, helping Emery shuck off the soldier’s uniform and change into his fitted tunic and breeches. “After all, what could a common foot soldier offer to the scourges of the Blight? They have no idea who you are, right?”

“I used the name Dax Cabot whenever I had been asked,” Emery said. Ridge gave him a quick glance over to ensure Emery hadn’t been looking as if he crawled through the dirtiest part of the city, then led him out of the servants’ area.

“Wasn’t that the name of your old tutor?” Ridge asked.

Emery shushed him, but nodded. Talk of Emery’s trip to the Blight ceased between the two friends as they made their way through the manor. Gods knew Emery didn’t want any gossipy maids overhearing that their prince had tried to make deals with thieves.

Ridge changed the topic to a teasing, “My parents are seating you next to Leandra again at dinner tonight.”

Emery gave Ridge a sidelong glance. “You know nothing is going to come of this.”

“Of course,” Ridge said. “You would never be able to handle my sister. It’s why it’s such fun to tease you about my parents trying to set you up. You can’t blame them for wanting the match, though. I heard they had to petition hard to have the crown prince himself go through his squire years at their estate.”

Emery gave his head a soft shake, finding no words. He had no doubt that once he did return to court there would be women lined up as potential brides, both from his parents and from the other noble houses alike.

“There are times when I wish Leandra and I cared enough about each other to go through that,” Emery admitted quietly. “She would never want to be queen, though, and I wouldn’t want to force her to play the part.”

“As her brother, I suppose I’m thankful you care enough about her to think of her feelings like that,” Ridge said. “That and, let’s be real, she’s not delicate enough to be a queen.”

“I’ve no idea where you’ve come up with that thought,” Emery said. “Queens are anything but delicate.”

“Well, yes, I’m sure,” Ridge said, waving off Emery’s words, “but they need to play that part, don’t they? Your mother is the gentle hand compared to your father’s iron fist. Leandra would end up insulting most of the court. Under her, a rebellion would have happened long ago—”

Emery gave Ridge a hard jab in the ribs with an elbow. Ridge glared at Emery but said nothing, grudgingly accepting the admonishment.

“Come on,” Emery said, quickening their pace through the estate’s hallways. “We’ll be late for sparring practice.”

 
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Posted by on August 13, 2017 in Scribbles

 

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Sunday Scribble – “Blight”

Blight

While he had no doubt been raised prim and proper, the foot soldier before her looked ready to wet himself. Clad in the scarlet and goldenrod livery of the Harding family, the young man was shaking so much the helmet he held rattled. He was either extremely desperate or extremely stupid to seek her out and leave his skull unprotected.

“Did you say your name?” Kora asked, her sudden question making him jump.

“Dax Cabot,” he answered immediately.

A common enough name.

“How long have you been with them?” She gestured vaguely to the uniform.

“Since I was about seven,” he said. After a beat, he added, “Ma’am.”

“Not what I asked.”

“About ten years.”

“Now why,” she leaned closer to him, speaking slowly, “would you toss all those years of loyalty to one of the houses closest to the king to come to the Blight?”

Dax straightened his spine, but his Adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow. “I heard the rumors of a rebellion against the crown—”

“Yes. So?”

He faltered, but pressed on. “It’s not the usual rabble of talk from those here in the Blight. The rumors are coursing from the noble houses, Harding included.”

Kora raised a thin eyebrow. “Again, so?” I have no interest in noble arguments. Why not tell the king’s advisors of this?”

Dax paled even more, had it been possible. “I don’t know how deep the rebellion has gotten,” he said. “And I… I thought you’d stop it. You’ve the royal family in your pockets, don’t you?”

“Curious.” Kora tilted her head to the side, her gaze narrowing. “Why would a little foot soldier like yourself figure that?”

“Rumors,” was the weak reply.

Silence stretched between the two, Kora staring at Dax and Dax looking anywhere but at her.

Eventually Kora said, “If I was to get involved in this squabble, what would be my reward?”

“The royal family stays neatly in your pocket?” Dax winced at his own answer and looked more frightened than relieved when Kora laughed.

“Keep honing your wit,” Kora said. “Your tongue may be able to save you just as much as your sword. Brogan.” One of her guards – a squinty-eyed man with arm muscles as thick as his neck – stepped forward. In one movement, Brogan put a sack over Dax’s head and pinned the soldier’s arms to his side. “Mr. Cabot, should you wish to really pursue our help in this matter, you’d do well to bring leverage to persuade me to the cause. The Blight works with tangible rewards and goods, not pretty words and promises. Brogan will kindly escort you back to the streets.”

Dax began to stutter a protest, but he fell silent when Brogan nearly lifted him off his feet and out of the office. Graham came in almost immediately after, his gaze lingering on the retreating pair.

“His ass doesn’t look broken,” Graham commented lightly. “Did you go straight for the face? That what the sack was for?”

Kora shook her head, her fingers steepled in front of her face as she wondered how the supposed foot soldier found his way around the Blight enough to reach an audience with her. “He’s still in one piece.”

“Feeling generous today, are we?”

“I would hardly think it appropriate,” Kora drawled, “to maim the kingdom’s prince.”

 
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Posted by on August 6, 2017 in Scribbles

 

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Sunday Scribble – “Bittersweet Part Five”

Bittersweet
Part Five
First Part | Previous Part

Logan wasn’t quite sure what he was feeling when he woke up to half a dozen texts from Aidan:

8:01 am: Dude, your mom just called my mom. Didn’t even know that she had our number!

8:09 am: Why is my mom asking where you are? Didn’t you go on that senior trip? Shouldn’t you be home by now?

8:15 am: Seriously this isn’t funny. If your mom doesn’t know where you are, and she ALWAYS DOES, then where are you?

8:22 am: Did you run away? Please tell me you’re okay.

8:33 am: Seamus says not to worry about you, that you had contacted him at the beginning of the senior trip, and Carter is cool with that but I’m still really confused. Where are you?

8:37 am: Just please fucking respond and tell me you’re okay.

Logan groaned as he dragged himself off his creaky motel mattress, his back popping like firecrackers as he stretched. Considering how young he was, he could only pray that getting a better mattress in a new place would help his spine not sound like an old man every time he moved.

He glanced back down at his phone, knowing that he couldn’t leave Aidan hanging. Before he could talk himself out of it, Logan hit the call button next to Aidan’s picture on his contact screen.

Aidan picked up on the first ring. “Logan?!”

“Hey.”

“Don’t ‘hey’ me!” Aidan said, sounding as if he had just run a marathon. “Are you okay?”

“I’m alright, Aidan,” Logan said, trying to sound calm instead of inwardly panicking at the difficult conversation he was about to have. “I just moved out of Mother’s house, that’s all.”

There was a pause on the line. “Logan, judging by how she spoke to Mom, I don’t think your mother knows that you moved out. What’s really going on?”

“I, uh, may not have told Mother yet,” Logan said.

Aidan barked out a laugh, one that was the result of nerves rather than amusement. “Wait, wait, wait… What do you mean she doesn’t know? Hang on.” Logan listened as Aidan spoke quietly to his own parents with Logan hearing snatches of the conversation such as, “Yes, this is Logan and he says he’s okay,” and “Dunno where he is yet.”

“So, spill,” Aidan said as soon as he was back on the phone.

Logan took a deep breath. “Well, uh, I didn’t want to go back to Mother’s house, so after the graduation, I took my car to the train station and made my way to Belleview.”

“Belleview?” Aidan’s echo sounded heartbroken. “You’re that far away? Why?”

“It was cheaper?” was Logan’s offered response. “I just… I was able to get a room and a job here that I found last month during that weekend I was sitting in on bank meetings for Mother.”

“B-but…” Aidan took a moment to gather his words, and Logan could just picture his friend biting his lip as he usually did whenever he was trying to carefully think of what to say. “Will we still hang out this summer?”

“Of course,” Logan said. “Aidan, of course we will, I just needed to get away. I couldn’t… I wouldn’t have been able to stand living with her for another summer. I needed to leave her, not you or Carter or Seamus. Please understand that.”

“No, I get it.” It didn’t sound as if Aidan totally did, but Logan would let it slide as Aidan continued talking. “I had just been hoping we could have done more with each other since you guys were all leaving for college in the fall, you know? I really don’t know what I’m going to do without you all.”

“Aidan, you have friends in your class,” Logan said.

“Yeah, but not like you guys,” Aidan said dismissively, and Logan silently agreed. Aidan had tagged onto their friend group since he and Carter had been paired up together for a project in one of their shared elective classes when Aidan had been a freshman and the rest of them were sophomores.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about me next year,” Logan said, padding in his slippers across the motel room to stick the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the outside of his door. “I’m not planning on going to college. Not right away, anyway.”

“Really?” Adian’s voice went up about an octave in his surprise. “But you got accepted to, like, a dozen Ivy League schools—”

“No, I didn’t,” Logan said with a scoff that turned into a chuckle at how much Aidan could exaggerate. “I was only accepted to three universities, none of which are Ivy League.”

(His mother complained all the way up to his graduation day as to what a waste of her money it would be to send him to some mediocre school instead of Harvard or Princeton. Logan said nothing in his defense. Even back then he knew he wouldn’t be going to college.)

“Well, still, getting accepted into some universities is awesome,” Aidan said. “I’m sorry you’re not planning on going right away, but that does mean I can call on you more often than the others during the school year!”

“You would have been able to call me anytime either way,” Logan said.

“I know you wouldn’t have minded,” Aidan said, “but I would have felt like I was bothering you guys, ya know? College is a big deal and you all would have been hella busy.”

“You’re going to be hella busy as a senior, you know,” Logan warned.

“Yeah, right!” Aidan laughed. “I remember how often Carter slacked off! Seamus worked his ass off because Seamus isn’t happy otherwise, and you…” He trailed off, and Logan felt a frown touch his lips. “School was always easy for you.”

(Thank goodness it had been. Way to not mention how Mother made Logan jet off to the nearby cities to get a taste of the business he had been supposed to inherit instead of enjoying his last year of high school with his class, Aidan.)

“I was blessed that way, I guess,” Logan said, trying to keep his tone casual. It didn’t really work when he added, “Um, Aidan, are you or your parents going to tell Mother where I am?”

“Uh, well…” Aidan hesitated. “She did call looking for you, man. I imagine she’s worried that you didn’t go back home after the senior trip. Shouldn’t you tell her that you moved out?”

“She’s probably more worried about our family’s reputation,” Logan muttered.

“C’mon, Logan, she must—”

“Look, please don’t tell her where I am, alright?” Logan interrupted. “I mean, tell her I moved out, but didn’t tell you where, okay? Please?”

Aidan was quiet on the line for so long that Logan had a fear that the pair had been disconnected. Finally Aidan said, “Alright, I promise, Logan. Mom is going to want to know the details, though.”

“I trust your parents,” Logan said, “as long as you trust that they won’t tell Mother the truth. Rather, the whole truth.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll make sure,” Aidan said. “I’ll just have Mom tell your mom that you… Uh, what exactly should I say?”

“Tell her that I moved out,” Logan said. “It’s honestly as simple as that.”

“Your mom isn’t going to be happy with just that as a response,” Aidan deadpanned.

“No… No, she’s not,” Logan agreed. “Better have your mother tell her, your mom can handle her, I think.”

“Oh, definitely,” Aidan said. “Dad would probably get all flustered trying to talk to your mom. And we’ll of course let your mom know that you’re okay.”

(Logan wondered how the hell Aidan was so pure enough to think that Mother still gave a damn about Logan’s wellbeing past the fact that he was heir to the family name.)

“You are okay, though, right?” Aidan’s voice snapped Logan back to the present. “Like, you’re staying in a good place?”

“Um, yeah.” Logan glanced around the sparse motel room after killing a fly against the bathroom sink with his bare hand.

“Gee, that sounded confident,” was Aidan’s sarcastic reply.

“No, seriously, I’m fine.” Logan wiped his hand on one of the towels. “I’m staying at a motel right now, but I’m actually going out later this afternoon to meet with someone about a room in an apartment.”

“In a public place, right?” Aidan asked immediately. “So you can make sure this person isn’t a psycho? Dammit, I wish I was there with you, I can read people like books.”

“You are good with people,” Logan said sincerely, and the warm thanks he received in return made him smile. “I’m pretty sure these people aren’t psychos, though. It’s a pair of sisters, actually, and they have an extra room in the apartment. I met the older sister already, in a public place, and she seems cool. I’m meeting her again with the younger sister at a park today, see how we all get along.”

“Good, meeting in the daytime, I like that. Don’t let them lead you down any dark paths at this park, okay?”

“Aidan—!”

“I’m serious, man, that’s how people disappear—”

“I’m going to hang up on you—”

“No, don’t!” Despite Logan joking, it sounded like there was legit panic in Aidan’s voice. “I miss talking to you.”

“Aidan, I miss you too,” Logan said, trying to keep his voice gentle, “but I’m not that far, not really.”

“I know that, but…” Aidan sighed, then gave off a light laugh that really didn’t sound as if it held any mirth. “You know, I’ve been complaining so much about applying to colleges, enough so that Dad asked why I was so against them. I answered that it’s because college makes my friends go away… I know you said you’re not going to college, but you’re still farther than I’d like you to be.”

“Aidan, you’re talking like we’re countries apart,” Logan said, trying to bring some amount of common sense back into the conversation. “We will see and talk with each other as often as possible, I promise. And, hey, maybe you can apply to a college close to Belleview.”

“You’ll still be there next year?” Aidan asked.

“I…” Logan trailed off, a mistake that made Aidan do that stupid, humorless laugh again.

“Okay, how about this,” Aidan said. “Tell me whenever you decide where you’re going to be next year and I’ll find a college as close as possible to you, okay?”

Logan rolled his eyes in good humor. “Alright, that sounds fine. Hey, do you ask Seamus and Carter about things like this too, or is it just me?”

“The first two colleges I’m going to apply to are their schools,” was the immediate answer.

“Oh, I see how it is,” Logan teased. “I thought I was special.”

“You are very special, Logan,” Aidan said. “Their colleges will be a backup just in case I can’t keep up with you.”

“Keep up with me?” Logan echoed. “Aidan, my friend, you’re leading the way.”

Aidan laughed, a real one this time, into the phone. “Alright, well… Good luck with your meeting with the sisters. I’d better go and let Mom know all about your situation. Text me later, will you?”

“Of course,” Logan said, and the pair said their good-byes.

The phone felt heavier when the line clicked dead.

Did Logan do the right thing? Moving so far away? Yes, he was away from Mother, away from those social and family obligations that did nothing except control his future, but… Would having a secure future, even one he couldn’t make himself, be so terrible if he was closer to his friends?

His cell phone slipped out of his hands and onto the floor with a clatter, snapping Logan out of his thoughts. He shook his head, checked that his phone still worked, and muttered, “Get ahold of yourself. Your life is fine, everything is okay, this is what you wanted…”

Logan glanced at the time and stepped into the shower to be certain that he wouldn’t be late for his shift at the restaurant.

 
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Posted by on July 30, 2017 in Scribbles

 

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