Then There's You (a StarKid story.... kind of)

Gah! I'm so excited for this story!

Enjoy :)

Chapter 2


Name: Megan Lias
Age: 24
Looks: Long, straight, brown hair. Gray eyes with small flecks of gold and green in them. Average sized.
Personality: Smart. Doesn't take crap. Matter-of-fact. Stubborn. Sarcastic. Loves animals. Helpful. Takes a while to earn her trust.

Megan's POV:
I wake up right on time thanks to my alarm clock. Of course mine isn't the digital kind at all. It's completely natural. A wet tongue hitting my cheek, paws batting at my stomach, puppy teeth nipping my hand as I swat my dog away. "Good morning to you too Boomer," I say sleepily, sitting up. He yips and thumps his tail a few times before leaping off of my bed. My other two dogs look on in what seems to be disgust. "And good morning to you two as well Beau and Bailey," I tell them, patting both of their heads. "Come on, let's go outside!"
Boomer races out of the door as soon as I open it, followed closely by Bailey. Beau follows at a more leisurely pace. I watch in amusement as they run around the yard. My dogs are like my family. Beau was the first one I rescued, a black and white cocker spaniel that's much smarter than your average dog, he's more like a person than a dog. Bailey, my second and a German shorthair, is human in the way she consumes human food so much. Nothing is safe on the counters of my kitchen. If Bailey can see it, she'll eat it. Boomer is my newest dog. He's seven months old and a black and white Lhasa apso/cocker spaniel mix. He's... well... Let's just say Boomer's lucky he's cute or I would have kicked him out a long time ago.
Convinced that the dogs are fine, I head back inside and get dressed for work. After I'm done I call the dogs in and shut Boomer in his kennel. He whines at me but I just shake my head. "If I knew I could trust you not to destroy anything I'd keep you out. I'll be back during my break. Good boy."
I pat Bailey's head. "And you're a good girl, but it's Beau's turn to come. Come on Bobo."
My cocker spaniel eagerly follows me out of the house and hops into the passenger seat of my beat up truck I've had forever. It makes my mom nervous and she's constantly begging me to get a new car, but I love my truck.
I roll my windows down despite the heat so Beau can stick his head out, which he does happily.
I look around as I drive, taking in our sleepy town of Glendale, Nebraska. A few early rising kids are already riding their bikes down the sidewalk, heading off for another day of summer spent at the pool or a friend's house. I'm sure more than a few will stop in at the cafe at some point throughout the day. Kids are regulars in the summer, drawn there because of our amazing ice cream and cream sodas.
My truck clunks to a stop outside of the Riverhouse Cafe, and I hop out with Bobo following me. One of my best friends, a tall girl with hair so dark it looks black and contrasting icy blue eyes, waves to me. "Hey Vanessa," I say with a grin.
"Megan! And Beau!" Vanessa drops down to scratch Beau behind the ears. "How's my cute boy?" she coos.
"Hello girls," Marianne says, walking up and pulling her keys out to unlock the cafe. Marianne is a bit like my second mom, and she looks the part. She's a short, slightly plump woman with rosy cheeks, short brown hair, and an infectious personality.
Marianne opens the door and Beau wiggles past her into the empty restaurant. "Beau, you can only stay for a minute," I warn him. His tail waggles in acknowledgement as he sniffs the floor. Every now and then I bring one of my dogs to work. They stay in the small laundry room Marianne has in the back or go out the dog door to wander around Main Street, greeting customers as they walk up to the Riverhouse. Everyone in town loves them, aside from the occasional person with allergies or those crazy dog-haters.
Vanessa flips the CLOSED sign so OPEN is facing out the window while I pull some bagels out and line them on cooling racks. The bell above the door jingles as our first customer walks in. I already know who it is before I see him, John Morrison, our morning regular. He comes in every day except Sundays when he goes to the bakery for doughnuts after church with his wife. A few more people stream in and they all smile and greet each other like they're good friends. Which, they probably are. In Glendale everyone knows everybody else abs they know who's related to whom and how. You don't get very many new people here, and most of us don't leave after college either. There's something about our community that's like a magnet, constantly pulling us back. Of course there are a few who leave, my boyfriend being one of them, but most if us are born here, die here, and are buried here.
"Well I'll have..."
"Bagel with garden vegetable cream cheese, a glass of orange juice, and the paper," I interrupt John handing him his food and a copy of the Glendale Gazette.
He grins, "You've got a good memory there Megan."
"Maybe it's because you always order the same thing John," I answer with a laugh.
"I'll mix it up on you one of these days!" he calls after me as I move to another booth.
This one contains a few old ladies out for breakfast to catch up with each other like they always do every other week. "Ah good morning Megan," one of them says.
"Morning Myrtle. Sylvia, Bonnie," I say, snatching up their empty coffee pot, "Aiming for a caffeine rush?"
"Oh we're tired little old women Megan, what do you expect?" Sylvia replies, fixing her poofed up hair.
I smile and shake my head. "And why are you all dressed up Sylvia?"
"She has a date!" Bonnie exclaims as Sylvia slaps at her.
Myrtle nods, confirming it, "It's true."
I shake my head at them again. "You three need to settle down. Your hearts can't take all this excitement."
"Oh you hush up and bring us more coffee!" Bonnie exclaims.
I say hello to a few more people as I make my rounds. Beau manages to sneak in and beg some food off of Mr. Sorenson, our newspaper editor. "Oh stop! You're encouraging him!" I scold Mr. Sorenson as I chase Beau back outside outside.
"Aw he wasn't harming anybody," a woman around my age answers as her little boy yells out "dog!".
"Yes that is a dog Sammy," I say with a grin. "And what does a dog say?"
His mother laughs. "We'll work on that, huh Sam?"
Soon enough there's a small lull between breakfast and lunch and then our big crowd comes in. Vanessa and I bump past each other as we rush between tables, shouting things out to our friends and neighbors.
But suddenly, everyone seems to stop talking. I'm laughing at a joke one of the fifth grade boys told me when I notice it. I turn to the door to see what everyone is staring at.
Three men I've never seen before are standing in the doorway.

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