Sharan jumped down the stairs, two at a time, and dodged out the broad front doors.  She slowed her pace as she skimmed through the crowd of students, then broke into a trot.  If she could just hurry, if the 3:06 bus could be a little late, she would still make it.  She swung round the corner of a trailor- and stopped.  The bus was just pulling out of the parking lot. 

“Horse rot!”  She slammed her book bag down, then slumped beside it.  If only she hadn’t stopped to talk to Sally.  If only Mr. Burns hadn’t caught them marking up that poster, if only-

“Hi, Sharan,”  Doug stood before her, a sloppy grin on his face.  “Guess we’re waiting for the same bus.”

Sharan scrambled up.  “Hey, Doug,”  She tried to make her voice sound bright, and happy-to-see-you.  “Yeah, I ran a little late today.”  She slipped a glance at her wristwatch.  Four minutes ’till the 3:10 bus.  Four minutes.  She could deal with it, it was only four minutes.

“So, Sharan,”  Doug took a sliding step forward, his goofy grin in danger of drooling.  “Have you made plans for this Friday?  ‘Cause if not . . . “