by David Lubar
"So, New York or Chicago?"
"I don't know," Greg said. "I think you're crazy going to either place. You can't
"Sure I can," I said. "All my dad cares about is that stupid woman he married. I
can't believe she's going to have a baby. I'm out of here. The only question is --
New York or Chicago?"
"Ask Spooky Sheila," Greg said.
"No way. She creeps me out." I glanced at the back of the room toward Sheila
Delphini's desk. She was playing with her hair, braiding and unbraiding several
strands, and paying no attention to the teacher. Not that I was paying any attention,
either. Why take notes when you aren't planning to stick around?
"But she'll tell you what will happen," Greg said. "I've heard she's got some kind
of way to see the future."
I'd heard the same rumors. Kids had whispered stories about Sheila for years. I
wasn't sure whether I wanted to believe any of that stuff. But it couldn't hurt to
see what she thought about my problem. When the bell rang at the end of the
period, I walked over to her desk.
"I've got a question," I said.