“Well, maybe you could do some extra credit instead?” Sara asked.
“Mom, I’ll be fine. I’ll stick to Nan like glue and you won’t have to worry about me. It’s just a boring bakery tour. What could possibly go wrong, other than I die of boredom?” Mina saw the look on her mom’s face and knew that she had won the argument, barely.
Going to a stack of mail by the fridge, Sara sifted through it until she found the folded yellow permission form. Signing it, she handed it to Mina with one last warning. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
“I will,” Mina promised, knowing it was a half-truth. She would be careful, but bad luck had a habit of following her everywhere.
Charlie shuffled into the kitchen still wearing his pajamas, plus a striking pair of bright yellow galoshes. Sitting on a slightly dented chair, he pulled one of the boxes of cereal toward him and began his morning routine of combining random cereals into one bowl. Today he chose Franken Berry, Cheerio’s and Grape-Nuts. A far cry from his normal combination of at least five cereals. Watching him mix cereal every morning made her stomach drop in disgust, which was why she preferred Pop Tarts.
The toaster released her Pop Tart and Mina grabbed it midair, wishing she hadn’t as she began tossing it back and forth in her hands until it cooled. Once cooled enough, it went into her mouth while she slipped on her temporarily fixed backpack and darted out the door to grab her bike from the landing.
The Grime family lived in a small rented apartment above The Golden Palace, a Chinese restaurant run by Mr. and Mrs. Wong. Mina loved living above the restaurant, unless she forgot to close her window the night before; then all of her clothes would smell like peanut oil. To make up for it, Mrs. Wong gave her all the pot stickers she could eat.
Mina carried the bike down the stairs to the sidewalk, nicking the paint from the wall on the way down. She had a love-hate relationship with the bike. Last year, on the eve of her fifteenth birthday, she thought she was being led outside blindfolded to be presented with a car. Instead she got a red 1950 Schwinn. The bike was old, scuffed, needed new brakes, oil and tires, but she didn’t care.
Once she got over the disappointment, and realized how unrealistic a car would be on her family’s budget, she began to love it. The bike allowed her some freedom. Besides, if Mina’s riding ability was any indication of her driving ability, then the world would have been in for a lot of dented mailboxes.
Swinging her bike onto the sidewalk, Mina waved to Mrs. Wong and barely missed colliding into an old lady walking her gaggle of toy poodles. “Sorry!” she yelled, losing a chunk of the Pop Tart she was still holding in her mouth. She watched in disgust as the poodles, who only minutes ago looked cute and cuddly, morphed into snapping, sugar-crazed dogs. The lady stared in shock as she tried to get control of her wild, pampered babies. Mina shrugged apologetically in response.
Ten minutes later, after cutting through two back streets and riding across three neighbors' back yards, Mina arrived at a school yard was devoid of human life, giving her the undeniable impression that she was tardy. She left her bike by the bike rack, but without a proper kickstand it sagged pathetically to one side against the nicer, newer bikes.
Running toward the bus barn, she was relieved to see the field trip bus was still there, until it pulled away from the curb.
“No!” Mina yelled, running after the bus, trying desperately to catch the notice of the driver.
A window slid down and a familiar blonde head popped out with something silver in her hand. “Mina, you really need to get a watch,” the girl shouted.
“Nan! Tell him to stop!” she cried, feeling a stitch begin in her side.
“And a cell phone! You really need to be brought out of the dark ages. I could have called you.” The girl just kept talking, impervious to Mina’s desperation and waning stamina.
“NAN! Snap out of it! Stop the bus!” she screamed huffing and puffing.
“Oh, right!” The blonde head popped back inside. A moment later the bus slowly decelerated and pulled to the curb.
Out of breath, and slightly limping from the side stitch, Mina finally boarded the first steps of the bus. The bus driver gave her an indignant look; this would probably delay their arrival and he was a stickler for being on time. She ignored him and stepped to the front row where her teacher was sitting to hand him her permission form.
“You really should have been on time,” Mr. West commented. His balding head glistened from the heat of the already too warm bus.
“I’m sorry,” Mina answered quietly. “We had a power outage.”
Mr. West looked over her permission form and then nodded for her to take a seat. Walking toward the back of the bus was like being in a bad slow-motion dream. She had no choice but to be the recipient of twenty-some odd stares.
Ducking her head and sliding into the seat next to Nan, Mina poked her in the side in revenge. “That’s for making me run for so long.”
Nan grinned, showing perfect white teeth. Today she was wore an “I <3 Jacob Black” shirt, skinny jeans, and black flats. Nan was the exact opposite of Mina in every way, which was why they probably got along so well. She got a kick out of Mina’s lack of knowledge in all things social and popular.
“Well, maybe if you got a cell phone, you could have texted me you were running late,” Nan quipped, pulling out her latest iPhone, fingers flying over the touchpad.
“What are you doing? Are you chirping?”
Nan rolled her eyes and laughed, “Really, Mina, it’s called tweeting.”
“Okay. Are you tweeting?”
“Of course,” Nan smirked.