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Show Hannah Mae and the Mona Lisa 60 stretch of real road until we came to Parker Produce. The sheriff wasn't strict about underage ejKvi^k making short jogs on the highway, especially since he had grown up doing the same himself. "I wish I had my license," Colby said. "We could make it in forty minutes on the highway." "Sheriff might let you anyway," I noted. Colby shook his head. "Best not test our luck the first day." I nodded in agreement. "We'll need some cash for making change," I said. "Your dad already gave me twenty dollars." Dad was being mighty generous. I think he wanted the vegetable stand to work out for Colby's sake. Dad once said that life hadn't dealt Colby a fair hand, and I've noticed he slips Colby an ace once in a while. I'm proud when he does. I said goodnight and trudged upstairs. I was too tired to change into my pajamas. I stripped off my clothes and hopped into bed in my underwear. I pulled out my essay. Colby was right; I hadn't written much about the Mona Lisa. ?Q But truth be told, I didn't want to write about the Mona Lisa. Not really. That's <Wffl the problem with school and everything related. Even when there's something you really want to do, like joining a trip to Paris, they twist it about so you can't enjoy doing it. I studied Colby's sketch-tried to concentrate on Mona Lisa's eyes. But her crazy smile kept grabbing my attention. That girl was thinking about something, no doubt about it, but I couldn't figure out what she had on her mind. Maybe she was like me-smirking at the whole idea of being extraordinary. I pulled out a fresh sheet of paper. |