“Say it again, Ms. Preston. Michelle. Please!”
Mr. Burkhardt was obviously getting desperate. His face was trembling. A look of deep passion was fighting with the fiercest, sternest look Michelle had ever seen. She closed her eyes and reached down into a well of strength she hadn’t known she possessed. She opened her mouth. She said, “Yeah!”
The word came out with a deeply satisfying, dead-flat certainty. She opened her eyes. She and Mr. Burkhardt blinked at each other.
There was a scraping groan from the front of the car, and they both turned to look in time to see a large branch, from the sycamore tree against which they had stopped, slide slowly down the hood and disappear in front of the car.
“Woah,” Michelle said.
“Yeah,” David replied.