Chapter Seven: Welcome Home

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Shane's POV:

     Rays of sunlight glower into my face when I waken. At first, I think I must be outside or still asleep or something, but then a girl starts giggling and the room goes black again. After my eyes have adjusted, I realize three things: that the girl is Cheyenne, she had pulled the curtains down, then dropped them on top of me, and my neck had more knots in it than a ball of yarn-after you took it back from the playful kitten!

    She had her face directly in front of mine, looking at me expectantly. I pulled the curtains off of me, then when she was about to get up and rejoin her obviously beloved new Ipod, I jabbed her in the sides. Cheyenne yelps and I pull her into my lap. I am laying down and don't think when I tickle her. After a few seconds of us both laughing our heads off, we somehow end up both sitting up, on my sleeping bag on the wooden floor.

     We stare into each other's eyes, and I instinctively lean in towards Cheyenne. She realizes what I am doing and I see panic in her sparkling, light green eyes.Cheyenne leaps up, back onto my bed and turns on her music. She starts humming to Carrie Underwood's Blown Away. Soon her humming turns to singing.

     "Shatter every window 'til it's all blown away,

Every brick, every board, every slamming door blown away

'Til there's nothing left standing, nothing left of yesterday

Every tear-soaked whiskey memory blown away,

Blown away

There's not enough rain in Oklahoma

To wash the sins out of that house

There's not enough wind in Oklahoma

To rip the nails out of the past

Shatter every window 'til it's all blown away-"

     I join in, and Cheyenne immediately stops, ripping out her earbuds.

     "What?" I ask her, as I see her left eyebrow raised.

    "Did you say something? You were making weird faces," she states calmly. So much for singing with her.

    "Nope. Nothing at all."

    Cheyenne opens her mouth to continue speaking, but the landline in the dining room starts ringing. We look at each other and roll our eyes. 

     "Someone else will probably get it," I claim, when Lilith happens to make her first, and always most cursed, appearance of the day.

     "Cheyenne," Lilith leans her head into my doorway. "Your parents are on the landline. It's in the dining room. Do you know where that is?"

     "Yeah, thanks." I can tell she is reminded of when she once lay on the table in that very room, thought to be dyeing.

     I follow, but of course I can only listen to Cheyenne's side of th conversation

     "I know. . . Yeah . . .

    Are you keeping safe?

    Ok, good . . . 

    When will-

    Will you be back in time?

     Why not?

    Po- oh, yes. I will eat lots of them!

     McDonalds. Got it . . .

    Love you, too.

    Plese don't go yet-'

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