SUMMER
I had detention after school.
The wolfsbane detention — the one Mr. Cranston had handed Maddox and me on Friday for the alleged prank. Two hours, after school, in his classroom, while he graded papers and pretended not to watch.
Maddox, of course, was not there. He had served his portion of the detention yesterday — the day I had ditched school with Rhett — which meant I was sitting in Mr. Cranston's room alone at three-thirty, doing reading I should have been doing anyway, while Mr. Cranston worked silently at his desk and the late afternoon sun moved slowly across the lab benches.
I checked the clock approximately every six minutes.
Forty-five minutes left. Then thirty. Then twenty.
I rehearsed it, sitting at the lab bench. Maddox, I need to tell you something. Maddox, befor
