Without opening his eyes, Dylan swung out his arm and hit the snooze button on his alarm clock. "Ten more minutes," he mumbled to no one.

Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!

Dylan groaned. He pulled the covers over his head. Just ignore him and he'll go away, he thought.

Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!

"Shut up, Jeff!" Dylan yelled from under the covers.

He waited, tense. All was quiet. He smiled. Good. He started to fall asleep.

BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!

Jeff now stood just to the side of Dylan's bed.

"Shut up!" Dylan said. He tried to grab his younger brother.

Jeff quickly ran away. "Mom! Dylan tried to hit me!"

"Dylan! Time to get up!" his mother called from the kitchen.

The alarm went off again.

"Great," Dylan mumbled.

He felt under his bed and pulled out a pair of jeans. He threw them back down. Wrong pair. His hand reached deeper under the bed until he nearly fell over its side. He crawled halfway under his bed before he found his favorite jeans.

He looked in the mirror as he ran his hands through his short, brown hair to get rid of the matted tufts from sleeping on his side.

"Kelly! Are you almost done in there?" he asked, shaking the dust off his jeans.

"How did you know I was in here?" Kelly yelled from the bathroom.

"You're always in there!"

"Shut up! I'll be out in a minute."

"Why can't Kelly use your bathroom?" Dylan asked his mom when he walked into the kitchen.

"Good morning," Mrs. Patterson said cheerfully.

"I'm serious!" he said. He poured cereal in his bowl. "She's always hogging the bathroom."

"There's only the three of you. When I was your age, I had to share the bathroom with four others."

"So?"

"So. If we could share, so can you."

Kelly walked into the kitchen. She moved her head so her dark ponytail swung side to side. Kelly and Dylan had the same brown hair and the same brown eyes as their dad. Jeff had red hair and brown eyes, like Mrs. Patterson.

"It took you that long in the bathroom to put your hair in a ponytail?" Dylan said.

Kelly glared at him. "At least I care about how I look."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean all you wear are sweatshirts. And you're wearing the same jeans you wore yesterday."

"They are not the same jeans!"

"Kids! Enough!" Mrs. Patterson said.

"Can I spend the night at Emma's on Friday?" Kelly asked.

"Will her parents be there?"

"Her mom will."

"I suppose it's all right," Mrs. Patterson rinsed out her coffee cup. "I'll call her mom tonight or tomorrow," she promised as she pulled Jeff's lunch from the refrigerator.

"You're not going to Dad's?" Dylan asked in surprise. "How come?"

Kelly poured milk on her cereal. "I don't want to hang out with Dad on Friday night. And the last time I was with Dad, he criticized everything about me."

"He didn't criticize you about everything," Dylan argued.

Kelly shrugged. "He kept asking all kinds of questions about my friends. Said they were probably bad influences. He didn't like the way I styled my hair. I'd rather be with my friends and having fun than be with Dad."

Kelly and their dad fought more than they used to. In a way, Dylan was almost relieved she was going to be with friends.

From the kitchen window, he saw the street corner. Three students stood there: two girls and a boy. Dylan stared as a long, orange bus pulled up to meet them. The two girls climbed in. The boy looked behind him, then climbed in after them. The bus tires squealed as it pulled away from the curb.

Dylan put his bowl in the sink, then grabbed his backpack and skateboard by the door.

"I'll pick you up at 4:00 for your dentist appointment," Mrs. Patterson reminded him.

"Can you pick me up at the park?"

"Only if you promise you'll be watching for me. I don't want to have to hunt you down."

He nodded and pushed out through the door. Five houses lined their cul-de-sac. Dylan's house was the second from the end and looked like all of the others. Single-story brick homes, with the garages attached at the right. Every house had at least one tree in the yard. His big tree stood between his yard and the yard next door.

He slung his backpack over his shoulder, dropped his skateboard on the sidewalk, and kicked off.

The morning was perfect. Yellow and red leaves stood out against the gray sky. The leaves that fell on the sidewalk crunched under his skateboard wheels. The wind swooshed in his ears. He turned his baseball cap backwards on his head, so it wouldn't fall off, and rode faster.

School buses passed him. A few heads poked out of windows and yelled "Hi."

He was glad he didn't yet have to take a bus. He would, when he went to high school two years from now. The high school was on the other side of town. His mom would never let him skateboard that far. But Kelly would have her driver's license by then. Their mom promised that when Kelly got her license, she'd buy a new car and let Kelly have her old one. Maybe Kelly would let him ride with her.

Dylan steered his skateboard to the left. He let his mind go blank as he sped over the sidewalk. The whir of the wheels over the concrete almost hypnotized him. The park appeared on his left.

He veered expertly onto the path that cut through the center. Here, the leaves made a padding for his wheels. They whispered rather than whirred. Trees blocked the noise of traffic. He wished he could keep skating. Blow off school and stay here, where it was cool and quiet and...

A rock buried under the leaves caught in his front wheel. Dylan leapt off his skateboard. He landed on his feet, but his speed kept him going another four or five feet until eventually he hit the pavement.

"Have a nice trip?"

Four eighth-graders hung around the swingset. One of them had his cellphone pointed towards Dylan.

Dylan wiped the dirt off his pants. "Stupid stoners," he muttered.

He picked up his skateboard and walked towards the school. At least no one else saw him. They would most likely forget all about him before first period.

Since it was Wednesday, social studies was Dylan's first-period class. Jenny always sat in front of him in first period. He hoped she wore her pink sweater today. She hadn't worn it yet that week.