Let Me In

Chapter 1 – 11 years old

“Madeline Dolores Je

“What do you want, Bryan Otto Edwards?”

“Hey, I’m just joking, Maddy.” Bryan runs up the hill, throwing his arm around me. “You knew it had to be coming; I have been holding it in all day since Ke

I hate the days my mom “works late”. It entails me having to walk up the grassy hill from my grade school to my brother Jack’s football practice with the other latchkey brothers and sisters of the football heroes of our small town. There are four of us that make the trek every day.

Macke

Our brothers are teammates but not the best of friends. In fact, they have been known to fight with each other on several occasions. The most recent battle is over a girl… Cindy Rydel. I don’t see what is so intriguing about her, but I am not a seventeen year-old hormone-induced boy either. It doesn’t matter to Ke

Jack glances up to the bleachers on his way to the field, giving me a wave as he checks to make sure that I made it safely across the hill from our school. I wave back and take my seat next to MacKe

“Alright Ke

“Let’s do five today. I can’t decide who to leave out, Jackson or Tyler,” she says, tapping her lips with her finger.

“Fine, five,” I reply. Macke

“Ok, well my usual four boys and…” she pauses, glancing over to the field next to us where the latchkey boys are tossing a football around. “Bryan,” she says, spitting it out so fast I barely catch what she said.

“What?” I scream at her. Two days ago, Bryan told her that her butt is big, and now she is picking him to be her future husband?

“Maddy! Shhh…it’s my choice. Write it down,” she says, pointing to the paper with her neon-green painted fingernail.

“Alright, but I don’t understand you at all.” I shake my head back and forth, writing it down and hoping that the rotation eliminates him. I love Macke

Luckily, Macke

“Not my best life but I’ll take it. I got my Range Rover.” Macke

I dig through my bag and pull out my purple binder, handing it over to her.

“Maddy, this time you ca

“I only did that once, Ke

“I’ve heard that before,” she says, tapping the pen on the paper.

I have known Trent my whole life. His brother, Doug, is Jack’s best friend. We have been thrown together during our brothers’ t-ball and football practices and games, as well as too many Cub Scout events to count. We would play together when we were little, but as we get older we tend to ignore each other, doing our own thing when forced to be around one another.

Macke

Today I hate Trent because, during recess, Evan Graham said that Trent asked him to ask me if Macke

At the end of my MASH, I am married to Jimmy Schmidt, the class clown, and drive a minivan around Alaska with only one child. Not even close to my best life. I throw my binder on the bench in front of me, leaning back to enjoy the sunshine.

“Let’s do it again,” Macke

“No, I’m tired. Let’s just relax.” I don’t open my eyes. I want to empty my mind and enjoy the peace, knowing it will end when Jack and I go home.

“You go ahead and relax; I am going to play some football.” Macke

I open one eye, peering down at her. I am jealous of her confidence. She just walks right up to the guys, grabs the football from Trent, and throws it to Bryan. The boys seem a

About fifteen minutes later, Macke

“Move your asses, Littles,” Trent’s brother Doug yells over to us. All the latchkey younger siblings are called “the Littles”. MacKe

None of us say anything as we venture down to the end of the gates to meet our older siblings.

“Let’s go Mad; we’re going over to the Basso’s for di

“I’ll be right there.” I hold up my finger and give Macke

“Hey, Maddy,” Trent says, turning his head to stare out the window.

“Hi, Trent,” I respond, staring out of my own window. That pretty much sums up our friendship lately. I have tried to figure out what happened to us but have come up with nothing.

We arrive at the Basso’s ten minutes later. They live on the outskirts of town and have acres of land with horses. Their house has a wraparound porch with flower baskets hanging out of every opening. It looks like something out of a Better Homes and Gardens magazine. As the Mustang comes to a stop at the top of their gravel driveway, their yellow lab greets us the second we open the door.

I bend down, letting Dixon climb on me while I pet him with both of my hands. I stand up and Dixon follows me to the front porch and into the house. I know this house as well as my own, since I have probably eaten di