Lily pedaled hard up the steep slope of my driveway and dropped the bicycle sideways on the wet grass.

The front wheel spun in the air, throwing little drops of muddy water onto the concrete.

She had no jacket on against the November chill, just a faded blue shirt and jeans.

Her sneakers were soaked with dirty puddle water.

“You should be in school right now,” I said.

Lily twisted a thin red ribbon tight around her index finger.

“I skipped second period,” Lily said.