THE NEXT MORNING, I was so nervous, I got clumsy, and Dad was giving me odd looks over breakfast. I deflected most of his questions by asking about his work. He loved to talk about the latest techno-gadget. But it wasn't working as well as normal. He suspected that something was up, so I hurried through my Cheerios and dashed back upstairs to brush my teeth before Ruthie showed up.
I hustled downstairs just as Ruthie's horn beeped, which thankfully gave Dad no time to ask more questions. I grabbed by backpack, dropped a perfunctory kiss on Dad's cheek, and ran out the door.
"Hey there," greeted Ruthie. "I see you survived the night. Anything else happen?" She blinked wide eyes at me expectantly.
Something was off about her and I looked her over carefully. The tell-tale twitch of her fingers against the steering wheel told me that she was hopped-up on caffeine. "Are you okay?" I asked.