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Trace didn’t come to school the next day but showed up at soccer practice to yell from the sidelines.
“Why is Connor moving like a snail? You there, are you cross-eyed? Why do you keep passing sideways?” he would say. He kept yelling at his teammates until Coach finally told him to shut up.
After school, the quintet team gathered at Aunt Marg’s for tea. Old Aunt Marg beamed at them when she saw them walk in.
“She looks so happy we’re here,” Rose said.
“And she should be,” Kire opined, “we’re the only young people who come here. We brighten up the place a bit.”
The crew took their seats at their corner table with a sober atmosphere hanging thick over them. But their moodiness was soon cured by the scent of tea and freshly baked scones.
“Which should come first?” asked Trace, holdi
