“Dad got me a … guinea pig?”
“For breakfast,” Zack said. “That’s why I named her Toast. You aren’t going to eat her, are you?”
“Woot!” Zack hugged the cage to his chest, carrying it off in the direction of his bedroom. “I hope you don’t want to eat Marmalade or Sugar Puff either!”
“Marma– oh, never mind.”
I open my eyes and I am tangled in the sheets, books upside down on the floor. I know without looking at the time that I’m late. I leap out of bed, one foot still wrapped in the sheet, and land flat on my face. I lie there a minute. Close my eyes. Wonder if I can pretend I’ve fainted and convince Mom to let me blow off today and stay home.
It’s peaceful on the floor.
But it also smells a bit. I open an eye and there’s something ground into the rug. One of Dandelion’s cat treats, maybe. I turn my head to the other side and it’s better over here, but hen from outside I hear a horn blast, and this is my dad.