Amanda and The Photoshoot – 02
She was up before her alarm. Showered fast, ate half a piece of toast standing over the sink, and spent twenty minutes going through every item in her wardrobe looking for something that qualified as cute. Nothing did. Dark jeans, faded band tee, Converse. She grabbed her bag and left. The bus was half empty and smelled of damp coats. She watched the town slide past, the same streets looking unfamiliar at this hour and from this angle. She replayed the call without meaning to. Caught herself doing it. Stopped. Eastbrook Lane was quieter than she expected. Residential. Wide-spaced houses behind bare trees, the morning light flat and grey. She checked the number on the paper against the houses as she walked. Forty-seven. She stopped at the end of the driveway. She walked up to …