Sohpia sat on the couch, hands in her lap, her eyes staring at the floor. Her mom paced in front of her, steam practically coming out of her ears. “Sophia,” she said, full of fury, “what did I tell you right before my friends came over?” “Make little noise and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Sophia mumbled. “That’s right,” her mother said. “And then you started a KITCHEN FIRE.” She rubbed her temples. “Mom-” “No!” her mom said. “Please go to your room. NOW.” Sophia grumbled something inaudible, and trudged up the stairs to her room. She slammed her door and jumped on her bed. “Ugh,” she groaned. “So unfair.” She flumped over onto her stomach, muttering obscenities into her pillow. “Tomorrow,” she whispered. “Just wait until tomorrow…”
