So you know how things always come in threes?

I joked on Twitter the other day, after the sad early deaths of our dishwasher and car, that bad things always seem to come in threes and that was giving me a sort of dread.

Apparently merited. Because something else moderately horrible happened this week. Unfortunately it's not my story alone, so it's not being posted on the blog (at least not yet) - but yeah, serious bad luck and general yuckiness in my life right now.

Also, I got four rejection letters this week. Right when I needed them. Thanks, universe!

However, I'm still pretty happy - now that I believe fate is finished having its twisted way with me for the moment. I still have MJ and Starbucks frappucinos and good books and writing to do and long runs to take, all of which cheer me. 

So in that vein, I thought I'd share a bit of the WIP. It's a YA mystery about a girl, Dia, trying to figure out why her best friend Sara tried to kill herself. Sara's currently in the hospital with drug-related amnesia. Dia's just returned from a fact-finding mission, trying to fill in the blanks of Sara's memory. Dia and her mom have a loving, but strained, relationship.

After Danny and I said goodbye, I wanted to head up to my room to think in private. But Mom intercepted me before I even made it to the stairs.

             

“How was it?” she asked, smiling.

             

“Fine.” I said, in that tone of voice that’s meant to indicate a stupid question.

             

“So,” she said. “He looks cute.”

             

I turned and glanced out the windows. The Mustang was pulling away from the curb. “His car is cute. You couldn’t really see him from here.”

             

“He’s cute,” Mom said. “I saw enough.”

              

“He’s not boyfriend material." I headed for the stairs.  "Not that I’m girlfriend material.”

            

 “You are. Any guy would be lucky to have you.”

             

“Really?” I asked. The incredulity in my voice was genuine for once. “You say that even though I must annoy the shit out of you too?”

           

“Oh, Dia.” Mom’s expression was sad, a little shocked. She didn’t even scold me about language.

             

“Danny’s just a… friend,” I said. The last word stuck on my lips a little. Danny and I barely knew each other.  But he was trying to be a friend, and that was nice. I managed a smile at Mom and went up the stairs.

             

“You don’t annoy me, sweetie,” she said to my back. “I love you.”

             

“Not exclusive!” I called back, before I went into my room and shut the door.