He stepped behind me and held on to the pole. I went back to my book, hoping that if I didn't show any interest in him, he'd ignore me. I heard him ma...e small talk with the other passengers and his voice was rich and deep. He didn't say much but the words he used seemed carefully chosen. He seemed genuinely interested in what the other people had to say which was unlike most of his generation. The bus jerked to a stop and his hand brushed up against my hip and lingered there for a moment. I. "Gledhill Road," he sighed. Why did he know that name?Lonnie stood up and walked over to look out the unfinished window. His dad had gone to Gledhill road in his youth, because someone owned an old cabin up there. He racked his brain, but he couldn't remember whose cabin it was. He slowly turned his attention back to his work, and then he suddenly sat bolt upright, banging his forehead. "Fuck!" he swore, and then his mind began to race because he finally remembered that Drake Pennington owned a. More

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