My hands were on the steering wheel as I drove down the freeway.

      Tiffany wasn't saying much from the passenger seat and I didn't wonder why.

     She wasn't supposed to be always talking and that was okay. It could be she was thinking about what she did, maybe. And I somehow don't want to care.

      I pulled into the school parking lot and turned to look at Tiffany. She looked at me briefly and reached to open the door.

      ...