Class by Cecily von Ziegesar

and she could barely reach the pedals. It felt scary topping twenty.
    Off in the distance a blue light glowed on the tip of a tall church spire. All of a sudden the road wasn’t deserted anymore. A white shingled farmhouse loomed up ahead, its windows blazing with cheery light. Puffs of gray smoke rose from the chimney, and a yellow rocking chair stood on the porch. Behind the house was a red barn, and behind that a white-painted fence surrounded a hilly pasture dotted with fluffy white sheep. It looked like Santa and Mrs. Claus’s summer home.
    “Let’s stop there,” Tom suggested. “I’ll ask someone for directions.”
    “Just be careful,” Eliza warned. The countryside was beginning to creep her out. Axe murderers and serial killers lurked behind every tree.
    “Watch out!” Nick cried as Shipley steered the van toward the house. She ignored the driveway entirely, veering off the road and into the yard.
     
    A yellow light flashed through the window. The twin beams of a car’s headlights bounced across the yard toward the front porch.
    “Hello, psycho drivers?” Tragedy rushed into the kitchen and threw open the screen door. “Hey, slow down!” she shouted,waving her arms. “There are kittens around here! Kittens and lambs!”
    Adam followed his sister, throat dry and knees stiff. Nothing truly exciting ever happened in Home, but he was pretty sure something was about to.
    A maroon van pulled up directly in front of the steps leading up to the porch. Adam could just make out the Dexter College pine tree logo printed on the side. A blond girl in white shorts got out from behind the wheel. Her pale blue eyes seemed to glow in the dark.
    “Yowza!” Tragedy exclaimed. “Holy guacamole!”
    Adam gripped the screen door’s dinky metal handle. The passenger door opened and a huge, muscular guy emerged. He wore preppy Bermuda shorts and a bright yellow belt. Behind him tumbled a tough-looking girl with black bangs. The back door slid open and a guy wearing a wool earflap hat poked his head out, like a groundhog checking to see if spring had sprung. All they were missing was a big, slobbery Great Dane.
    “Hey.” The guy in the hat jumped down from the van. He wore a gray Patagonia fleece vest and looked exactly like everyone else at Dexter except for the Band-Aid in the middle of his face. “Sorry about the lawn. She…We…got lost?”
    The blond girl’s lips parted. Her blue eyes shone up at Adam with luminous intensity. “We’re not lost,” she insisted.
    “ Hello, Dolly! Well, hello, Dolly…! ” Tragedy belted out ridiculously. Any excuse to make as much noise as possible. Adam wanted to smack her.
    “Can we help you?” he greeted the visitors.
    “We were looking for Dunkin’ Donuts,” the girl with the bangs explained. “You’re probably going to tell us they don’t even have Dunkin’ Donuts in Maine.”

    Adam was disappointed. He was hoping their van had broken down or their orientation leader had had a heart attack. Something dire. “The nearest one is in Augusta, I think.”
    The big guy chuckled. “That may mean something to you, but not to us. Can you draw us a map?”
    “Hold on.”
    Adam was about to go inside and get a piece of paper and a pencil when Tragedy shoved him aside. No way was she going to pass this up.
    “Hey, why don’t you guys come in? Our parents are away and we’re so friggin’ bored. We have beer and wine and fresh sheep’s milk. It tastes like ass, unless you add a whole shitload of Quik. Then it’s not bad.”
    Pot did wonders for Shipley’s shyness. She took a step forward, placing her right flip-flopped foot on the porch step. The wood creaked. “I’m sorry. I’m a terrible driver. You’re lucky I didn’t run over your dogs or whatever.” She glanced around, looking for signs of animals. She thought she’d seen a cat scamper beneath the porch.
    “I’m Adam,” the lanky redheaded boy introduced himself with a freckle-faced smile.
    “And