Nellie Gomez awoke to a splitting headache. Worse, she was still hungry.
"Where's my croissant?" she demanded of the person leaning over her.
"Dear child," came a strangely familiar voice.
"Don't 'dear child' me!" she snapped. The twenty-two-year-old punk rocker ran black-polished fingernails through black-and-orange-dyed hair, which did nothing to soothe the pounding behind her black-shaded eyes. "Give me my croissant or I'll–"
It was then that she suddenly realized she was threatening the venerable Alistair Oh. "Alistair, what are you doing here?

Author: Gordon Korman