It would be nice if I could claim a ghost ate my homework, but I doubt un-cute Mr. Jones would believe me. So after dinner, I spent a couple hours catching up and finished my Zorba paper. Then I knocked on Natalie’s bedroom door. She didn’t answer. I knew Lukas was downstairs eating his second dinner, so I pushed open the door, presuming I wasn’t interrupting anything. Natalie was buried under the covers, her laptop open beside her. “Go away.” “No.” I sat beside her. “I know you want to talk.” “I do not,” she said. “Yes, you do. I can tell.” “You’re interfering with my celebrity gossip. How am I supposed to survive without knowing what they’re wearing to the Golden Globes?” I was momentarily distracted by the photos on her screen. “Wouldn’t it be awesome to have an excuse to dress up like that?” “There’s prom next year,” she said. “Yeah, I guess.” Though I had no idea where I’d be going to school next year, or if I’d even want to go to prom.
