Darcy Wills winced at the loud rap music coming from her sister's room. My rhymes were rockin' MC's were dropping ' people shoutin' and hip-hoppin' step to me and you'll be inferior cause' I'm your lyrical superior.
Darcy went to grandma's room. The darkened room smelled of lilac perfume, Grandma's favorite, but since her stroke Grandma didn't notice it, or much of anything. "Bye Grandma," Darcy whispered from the doorway. "I'm going to school now."
Just then, the music from Jamee's room cut off, and Jamee rushed into the hallway. "Like she even hears you," Jamee said as she passed Darcy. Just two years younger than Darcy, Jamee was in eighth grade, though she looked older. "It's still nice to talk to her. Sometimes she understands. You want to pretend she's not here or something?" "She's not," Jamee said, grabbing her backpack. "Did you study for your math test?" Darcy asked. Mom was an emergency room nurse who worked rotating shifts. Most of the time, mom was too tired to pay much attention to the girls' schoolwork . So Darcy tored to keep track of Jamee. "Mind your own business," Jamee snapped.
