Friends"You've never had peanut butter before?"
All he earned in response was a sheepish smile. "Not really," she replied, adding awkwardly, "peanut butter and I don't . . . mix very well."
"But you have to at least know how it tastes," he insisted.
"Clayton," Madelynn spoke, eying the boy sternly. "You shouldn't bother Mana about it."
"Fine, fine." He waved the warning off. "But you've at least had a bite of it before, right?"
"I presume I did when I was little." She winced inwardly, remembering all the times she'd been steered away from the brightly colored her jars her sister had obsessed over so much. "I eat almond butter, though. That counts, right?"
The pair exchanged a glance. "Sorry, Mana," Madelynn started.
"Not even close," Clayton cut in. "It's just, you know . . . not real peanut butter." The boy seemed to have thought of an idea suddenly, and she
The wheels of the cart gave a squeak of displeasure as the woman continued her trek through the store, humming quietly to herself as she scanned the aisles. "Yes, dear?" she replied, pausing briefly in her quest to smile warmly at the twins who were occupying the cart.
It didn't take her long to pinpoint which of the two had spoken. One of them was still sitting in the cart, but the other had pulled herself to her feet and was currently grasping onto the bars for support. "I would like to know why I can't have peanut butter," she responded calmly, her eyes watching her mother expectantly.
It wasn't the twin that liked to push her limits, and for that the woman found herself quite surprised. "That would be because you're allergic to peanuts," the girls' mother responded patiently, adjusting some of the items in their cart so the pair could sit more comfortably.
"Allergic?" the child repeated, tilting her he
Stranger CircumstancesIn all truth, it was bound to happen.
She'd just made a pit stop to her locker and was headed to the lunchroom when a tall woman, neatly dressed and most certainly angry, exited a nearby classroom and marched right up to her. "You," the woman snarled pointing a rather bony finger at her. "In my classroom. Now."
She promptly felt the blood drain from her face. The tone that teacher was using meant trouble, and she hadn't the slightest idea what she'd done to strike that chord. "If you don't mind my asking," she nervously asked, trailing behind the woman, "is there something I did wrong?" This woman wasn't even her teacher, and that served well in amplifying her terror.
"Is something wrong?" The woman sat down at her desk. "Your grade is slipping slipping, your work ethic is poorer than usual, and you have been tardy to my class far too much lately. Care to explain yourself?"
This is awkward.
Opportunities"I thought you might have been up here."
Effectively torn from his thoughts, his head snapped up. Momentarily, he blinked, before scanning the rooftop he sat on, searching for his visitor but to no avail. As he did so, the wind continued to whistle, muffling the familiar mass of giggles. It was then that he spotted her, pulling herself up onto the roof, her bare feet pressing themselves firmly onto the shingles.
He merely stared, eyes focused onto the sight before him. Then, as one of the shingles gave way and she nearly lost her grip on the gutter, he finally snapped from his momentary trance. "Here," he said, offering his hand to her. She grinned, grasping onto his arm. He pulled her up with no effort, and after finding her footing, she settled down next to him.
"It's nice tonight," she began slowly without looking at him, "isn't it?"
He squinted his eyes, making a face. "Great, now you just jinxed us with that r