She scans the building and I wonder what she’s thinking. Her expression doesn’t give anything away but I remember kids making fun of her. I feel bad now for not sticking up for her. I didn’t know her but that doesn’t make it okay. “Wow, never thought I’d be here again,” she says. “I know. It’s weird,” I say, to fight off the sinking feeling. “So, how do we explain our being here?” Lauren taps her chin. “Kind of a deep question. I guess some would attribute it to natural selection. Others to creationism.” Nice. I laugh even though she’s messing with me again. “I meant here, specifically.” Lauren raises an eyebrow. “I guess maybe we just walk in and make something up? After all, we are in high school now. We must be smart enough to pull that off.” We walk through the front doors and get about four feet before being stopped by a cranky middle-aged woman. “Can I help you?” Given her tone, scowl and penetrating gaze, it comes across more like, Can I kill you?
What do You think about Streetlights Like Fireworks?
