"IS THIS THE BUS to Whitman Junior High?" I frantically asked, as I stood on the curb in my green miniskirt. The school bus driver shook his head—like every other driver I'd asked before. The folding doors closed, and the busload of kids pulled away from the Performing Arts Center. One by one the buses left, until there were none.
Only moments before, I'd been swallowed up in a crowd of students filing out of the symphony concert, where I was so immersed in the music that I'd lost track of where I was supposed to meet up with my class. But now I was alone, left behind on a field trip, forgotten.
A lonely wind blew through the empty neighborhood, past the boarded-up buildings that surrounded the Center. The only people on the streets were a few homeless people. Fear crept in.
