The snow was falling lightly as Bree followed Trent outside. Uncle Tom's pickup truck was almost as old as Bree was, but he did his best to keep it running, because it was his baby. It sat idling out front, breathing as heavy as Bree had been just the night before when she'd hauled the suitcase up the stairs. Had that only been a few hours ago? So much had changed since then.
As Trent slowly turned and looked at her, she was reminded that just as much had stayed the same. He had almost kissed her--again. It just didn't seem like it was meant to be. She should just tell him goodbye and forget about him. Maybe Christy and Abby were right and she should find out the name of that guy that had gotten her guitar back when it was stolen….
"Howdy there, Trent," Uncle Tom said, hopping out of the
