The bus stop is nearly empty, and we are nursing hangovers as is. I can�t imagine how crap everyone else must feel like.
The bus roars up, all big yellow forehead and emaciated driver, and we hop on. My dad took away my car for a week, so we�re accepting this new bus thing. It�s not too bad when it�s empty. I do my French homework and Alison eats bits of her lunch over my shoulder.
My skirt feels too short, somehow. I wish I had worn something different. I wish I had thought about him a little more carefully before dressing.
We go through the day, as two normal people will, splitting off into kaleidoscopes of classes and combinations of students. Like a giant web. It�s marvelous if you think about it, but I guess most people don�t.