Danny’s head ached, so did his stomach. His eyes felt gritty and his tongue tasted awful. “Seven-thirty,” called his father, banging on the bedroom door. “I don’t feel good,” Danny protested and buried his head in the pillow. His father opened the door and looked thoughtfully at him. “Bad night, eh?” Danny grunted in agreement. It hadn’t been easy to fall asleep. He’d heard his parents talking late into the night and he knew they were discussing his problems. He’d tossed and turned, worrying about what they were saying. Then he worried about the kids at school and what they would say. “I wish other kids liked me,” Danny had muttered in the darkness as he tossed and turned. “Maybe Mom was right. I should see if Mike is interested in my den. I’ll invite him over tomorrow.” With a faint sense of having resolved something, Danny had finally drifted off to sleep, but then the dreams started. Not ’the chase’ one, but dreams with twenty-foot-high principals and teachers all yelling at him.
