We’re representing our school. People, please exit the bus in an orderly fashion.” “Why do teachers always call us ‘people’?” Lucy whispered to her friend Cailyn as they stood up to get off the school bus. “I guess they think it makes us feel more grown-up,” said Cailyn. “Doesn’t work for me, though.” The girls’ high school art teacher, Mr. Flaren, was hovering outside the bus now. He looked as flustered as a hen who’s lost a chick. “This way, please, people,” he said. “Right up the steps and in the main entrance.” “How else would someone get into the museum?” Cailyn muttered. Lucy smiled without answering. She knew there were other ways into a museum than just the main entrance. Not that Lucy remembered the lock-in all that well. She was in high school now, with a lot going on. And she and Jane had never managed to connect after the night in the museum. In all the confusion at pick-up time, Lucy hadn’t had a chance to get Jane’s e-mail address or phone number.
