Lucas stares at the buses as people wait to board, seeing easily over the heads of most of his friends. Everyone wants to sit in the same seat on the bus. That seems like a pretty significant safety hazard, but so is throwing yourself on the back of a crazed ghost dad, so Lucas has resolved to shut up about it for at least forty-eight hours, or until the image of that pickaxe swinging down on him stops playing over and over in his head.

There are other thoughts, though, that Lucas doesn't feel like keeping to himself. He lays a hand lightly on Bash's shoulder. "Got a minute?" He asks, gesturing with a nod of his head off to the side, away from their friends.