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A clattering sound came from the roof. Footsteps. Mike glanced over at his bedroom window, got up, and walked over. When he came to the window it suddenly popped open.

"How's it going?" the person asked, stepping into Mike's bedroom.

"Pretty good, yourself?" Mike responded, shutting the window, and glancing at the girl.

"I'm fine. Why weren't you in Physics today?" she asked, dropping a gym bag onto the floor.

"I had a dentist appointment," Mike replied, looking at his best friend.

"You should be happy you weren't there. Mr. Davis was a real son of a bitch." They had been best friends since they were just three, and they were now eighteen, seniors.

"That sucks," Mike stated, as she, Sarah, opened the gym bag and pulled out her softball uniform.

"I know," Sarah said. She paused. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all," Mike said, turning around to face his computer. They had ...

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