Amanda tossed and turned in bed. She couldn't stop thinking about Lee. He'd
been hurt--shot in the arm. Even though he said he didn't need any help, the
fact that he was hurt and alone tugged at her heart.
She peeked at the clock. It was late--after two in the morning--but she
didn't care. Tossing the blankets off, she dashed into the bathroom for a quick
shower. She pulled on an old pair of sweat-pants and her pink Georgetown
sweat-shirt.
Carrying her shoes, she tip-toed down the stairs avoiding the squeaky step.
She slipped them on and got about half-way out the back door when the lights
flipped on bathing the room in bright light.
"And where do you think you're going?"
"Oh, Mother, you frightened me."
"Well, missy, answer my question. Where are you going in the middle of the
night?"
"I . . . well . . . I just remembered we're out of milk and I promised the
boys I'd make them waffles for breakfast. So, I thought I'd run to the market
and pick up some. I'll be back in just a few minutes. Bye."
She closed the door behind her in a hurry, not waiting for her mother to
protest. Hoping she'd fare better with Lee, she pulled out of the driveway and
sped to Lee's apartment.
End
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