46
“HUGE crisis,” Amanda announced.
She burst into my room before the ten P.M. cutoff my parents have set for all visiting friends, crisis or not. And even though I was right in the middle of my research, saving our species would have to wait.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
Amanda dove face-first onto my bed and groaned into the pillows.
“What’s wrong?” I asked again. Amanda might be dramatic at times, but usually she has a good reason.
She rolled over onto her back. “Darlene just called me.”
“Darlene ... from Karmic Café?”
“Yes. She thinks she has to shut it down.”
“Why?”
“No one comes in there, she’s not making the rent—”
“That’s because her food is awful,” I said. “I’m sure the only time people go there is for Poetry Night.”
“I know. And she said this Saturday’s Poetry Night is pr
