7
A month later, Makayla slipped outside to sit on the front porch. She glanced down at her cell phone when it vibrated. A grin curved her lips. Tonight was Laura’s turn to call her. Each of the girls took turns either calling or texting her to make sure she was okay.
Debbie and Tisha had resorted to text messages since neither could call. Debbie’s texts consisted mostly of pictures of her daily visits to the museums and the cute boys in whatever country she was currently visiting. Tisha’s messages on the other hand consisted of ways she was going to drown her dad’s newest girlfriend, toss her off the cruise ship, or how the ‘witch’ could accidentally get left behind in some foreign port of call.
“Hey, Laura. How’s it going?” Makayla asked, walking over and sinking down into one of the
