Run Of The Mill

"Are you ready?" he asks from the doorway.

Looking around, I realize I can't find my favorite grey sweatshirt. "I forgot my sweatshirt." I say. "I'll meet you at the car." A quick scan tells me it's not in the living room so I head to the kitchen. I find it thrown over one of the chairs.

Grabbing it, along with my phone, wallet and keys, I shut and lock the door behind me.

As I walk to the car, Sam is finishing organizing all of the supplies in the trunk. He turns to look at me. Smiling, he says, "Oh good. You found it."

As I reach him, he gives me a kiss on the cheek. "Are you ready for some serious mayhem?" he teases, walking around to the driver's side.

"Serious mayhem?" I ask, sitting down and buckling my seat belt. "What's your idea of serious mayhem? Finding an old lady who needs to cross the street and not helping her?" I tease back.

Pulling away from the curb, he chuckles and reaches for my hand. "You know. I never thought of that! Maybe next time."

I glance over at Sam. With the windows rolled down, his ash blond hair is flying in the wind. It looks unruly and out-of-control which is in stark contrast to Sam himself.

He notices me looking, grins and asks, "Something on your mind?"

I settle into my seat, enjoying the wind on my face on this unusually warm fall day. "I was promised serious mayhem. I'm wondering where this said mayhem will occur."

"We are going to the Mill." he responds.

The Mill isn't really a mill at all. Sam's dad was a realtor and owned lots of property around town. The mill is a old farm house located on the outskirts of town beside a small creek. It was the prime hangout spot for everyone when we were in high school. The creek is named Sawmill River, hence the name The Mill.

"The Mill? I haven't been there in ages. Is it still the same?" I wonder aloud.

"Pretty much. Just a little older and more run down but she's still a beauty." Sam says. "I'm going to restore her to her former glory one of these days."

"Well, now it makes since why you packed the trunk full of enough stuff to survive the zombie apocalypse." I say, chuckling.

"Ah, I see. Go ahead and mock me if you must. But just remember, when you need a drink, snack or picnic blanket, don't come crawling back to me." he kids.

He brings my hand to his mouth, gives it a quick peck, then releases it to put both hands on the steering wheel.

I stifle a laugh. Place your hands at 10 and 2. Make sure both hands are on the wheel at all times. Sam, always following the rules.

"You know Michael and Quinn will be there." Sam says.

Shaking my head, I ask, "Are those two still the same?"

Sam replies, "Pretty much. They are still just like brothers, fighting and arguing all the time." Michael and Quinn, best friends since seventh grade. Either arguing, wrestling or eating. But all in all, good guys.

"Molly will be there too." Sam says, risking a quick glance off the road in my direction.

"That's great! I haven't seen Molly in a while. She's been so busy. I can't wait to see her." Molly and I have been friends since the first grade. Having gone out-of-state for college, I haven't seen her as much. But when we do see each other, it's like no time has passed.

"And Jake is meeting us there too." Sam says.

"Jake?" I mumble. I swallow nervously. Jake? Jake Whitfield? My stomach does a little flip-flop.

Sam mistakes my question as needing clarification. "You know. Jake Whitfield. He was the captain of the baseball team. Took us to the state championship senior year. Tall guy. Brown hair. Remember?" he says.

"I remember." I say. Like I could forget Jake Whitfield.


Here's my third fiction piece with Maddie. This piece introduces us to another character, Sam. This gives us another piece of the puzzle.