The pale red-headed boy lifted his fencing jacket at the waist, exposing a pocket on his track pants. He then reached into the pocket, pulled out a paper sheet folded in quarters. He then handed the sheet to the other boy, along with a command — “Give this to your mom tonight.”
Mother. Sandy realized suddenly where she was, or rather, that she wasn’t where she was suppossed to be, where her mother — she looked quickly to her right and up, saw the large analog clock hung above the windows leading to the kitchen. 4:10. Sandy’s mother said she’d be at the school by 4:30; the teen sighed audibly.
“You OK?” The taller boy had come closer, was standing above her now. He seemed suspicious, as if he didn’t trust her being there.