"Really? Cereal?" your mother replies, appearing in your doorway. "Okay. Well, you can make that yourself. I guess I'll see you tonight." She blows you a kiss and you hear her high heels click and clack down the stairs and out the front door.
You throw on a sleeveless dress, a cardigan, and a pair of boots, glance at the clock, and pull your hair into a hasty ponytail. This will have to do; as it is, you're going to have to jog the four blocks to school. Breakfast is overrated anyway; you grab a Kashi bar and toss it into your bookbag as you throw the door open.
You lock up behind you, then spin around and slam right into a boy who was apparently just standing stock still on your doorstep.