The-Lucky-List-Rachael-Lippincott

22
Kiera’s home.
I fly across town, putting the past two days with my dad behind me with every stroke of my pedal,
the thought of seeing my best friend aer what has felt like an eternity able to push everything else
away. Even some of the frustration and anger I felt when I found out she wasn’t coming back until the
day before the lake trip ebbs.
For the first time in a while I just… need to talk to someone who understands. Who knows my
mom. Who knows what those town houses mean. Who has experienced these past three years.
I swerve into the center of Huckabee, past Hank’s, past the library and Nina’s, to where the historic
houses sit, red brick and white siding, tiny plaques nailed beside each door declaring they are old
enough to have had George Washington breathe on them.
I see her from down the block, sitting on the front steps, her hair pulled back, an oversize heathergray
Misty Oasis T-shirt on.
“Kiera!” I scream as she jumps up, waving frantically.
I skid to a stop in the driveway, hopping o the bike as she launches herself at me, scrapes on both
her knees, chipped red nail polish despite all the bottles I sent her. “Oh my gosh, dude! I missed you!”
“I missed you!” I say as we gile our way inside. Nina peeks out of the kitchen, used to me stealing
Kiera away as soon as she gets back, a small smile on her face.
“What’ve you two got planned to bake this year?” she asks.
“Carrot cake!” I call back as we kick o our shoes and start up the creaky wooden steps to Kiera’s
bedroom.
We push open the door, dodging around the huge, dented suitcase sitting on the patterned carpet,
and launch ourselves onto her bed.
“Welcome back to the twenty-first century,” I say with a laugh.
Kiera giggles, nodding. “I missed cell phones. And warm showers. And Netflix.”
“So, how was camp? How was Todd’s house?”
Kiera rolls over on her side, grinning at me. “Camp was… probably the best year yet? None of the
campers was seriously injured, which was a bit of a miracle. Not a single squirrel incident.” She smirks,
the both of us remembering a pack of squirrels that had completely trashed a bunk two summers ago.