Mr. Wickson, our bus driver is an alien. At night, he beams to his spaceship. In the mornings, he comes back to earth to take us to school.
"Have you seen stitches on the sides of his face?" he asked.
He leaned toward me. "Olivia Mercer, what are you doing?" he asked.
Mr. Wickson smiled. "Good night, Olivia," he said.