You're asking for trouble, Hannagan," he growls. "And you would be....?" Janie asks. She giggles. "Trouble.

You're asking for trouble, Hannagan," he growls. "And you would be....?" Janie asks. She giggles. "Trouble.

Oh baby," he whispers. Steps back. Out of the doorway. His face ashen. He walks slowly back to the kitchen. Leans over the counter. Puts his head in his hands. His hair falls over his fingers. The bathroom door clicks shut. She stays there for a long time. He's pulling his hair out.

With practice, you will master your own dreams.

The phone rings. “Asshole,” she mutters. She picks it up. “Will you let me explain?” “No.” She hangs up.

Go force your condescending man-logic on the next house. You can go now.

She gets to school late. Bashful gives her a tardy, and won't reconsider. Janie always hated Bashful. Stupidest. Dwarf. Ever.