Desert DroppingChapter 26B
On Sunday morning, I sat stretched out on my bedroom floor, piles of pictures and my old yearbooks scattered in front of me. Most of the pictures were of my mom and me. Luke was stretched out behind me on the bed, reaching down every once in a while to lift one as he inspected them at his own leisure. I was more focused on the old yearbooks. Thinking about old friends the night before had left me practically anxious to call one of them. I had no idea what I was going to say, really. I think...