I knew I was only getting myself in more trouble. Lori’s dad unballed and balled his fists, daring me to talk back. I was beyond caring. I was right and he was wrong. I
said, “Of course I’m going to see her. I live next door.”
“Not for long,” he shouted. “Lori, go with Frances. Go home.”
I balled my own fists then. Now it sounded like Lori was a dog.
Lori gave me a wide-eyed warning look, then obediently jogged a few steps forward and walked with Frances toward her house.
Her dad turned to me. “You. Follow me.”
“Woof,” I said.

Author: Jennifer Echols