I barely register being in math class. I have no idea what Mrs. Rosewater is saying. Usually, being a Terror Teacher, she loves to call on people who seem sleepy or spaced out. But I spend the entire class with my eyes glazed, just staring out the window, and she doesn’t call on me once, or even tell me to pay attention.
I watch a squirrel leap from branch to branch, shaking snow to the white ground with every step. Some of it blows away in the wind, like a ghost.
The bell rings, and I snap back into this world. I gather up my books and think I’m about to get out alive when Mrs. Rosewater says, “Margaret, would you please stay a moment?”