Minutes later, I’m riding the school bus home with Sash. It’s your standard crayon-yellow deal with gray bench seats that are arched on the top. You know, like tombstones.
Sash sits beside me. We tried for a spot at the back of the bus, but only scored something halfway down. I wear gray sweats with a boxy Paxton High T-shirt. Sash is in a yellow sundress that matches her bright attitude.
“Did you ever hear the story about Sister Alionushka and Brother Ivanushka? It’s like Hansel and Gretel, only there’s a goat involved.”
While Sash tells the story for the umpteenth time, I scheme about ways of convincing Mom to let me drive to school. It’s not like we don’t have enough cars back home. And riding the bus is a pain.
My sister elbows me, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Were you listenin
