Free Invasion by Robin Cook

something as specific as astronomical distances. “Ninety-something million miles.”
    “Oh, yeah,” Beau said. “Ninety-three. That means it would take just a little over eight minutes for the effect of a solar flare to reach here.”
    “Excuse me?” Cassy asked. There was another one of his non sequiturs. She didn’t even know what a solar flare was.
    “Look,” Beau said excitedly, pointing up into the western sky. “You can see the moon even though it’s daylight.”
    Cassy shielded her eyes and followed the line of Beau’s pointing finger. Sure enough, she could just barely make out the gossamer image of the moon. She looked back at Beau. He was enjoying himself immensely in an endearing, almost childlike way. His enthusiasm was infectious, and she couldn’t help enjoying herself as well.
    “What made you want to come to the planetarium today?” Cassy asked.
    Beau shrugged. “Just pure interest,” he said. “A chanceto learn a little more about this beautiful planet. Let’s head over to the museum next. You up for that?”
    “Why not?” Cassy exclaimed.
    JONATHAN CARRIED HIS LUNCH OUTSIDE. ON SUCH A DAY he hated to be in the crowded cafeteria, especially since he’d not seen Candee in there. Skirting the flagpole in the central quad, he headed over to the bleachers alongside the baseball diamond. He knew that was one of Candee’s favorite places to get away from the crowd. As he approached he could see that his efforts were to be rewarded. Candee was sitting on the top row.
    They waved to each other, and Jonathan started up. There was a slight breeze, and it was snapping the edges of Candee’s skirt, revealing tantalizing glimpses of her thighs. Jonathan tried not to make it obvious that he was watching.
    “Hi,” Candee said.
    “Hi,” Jonathan answered. He sat down next to her and extracted one of his peanut butter and banana sandwiches.
    “Ugh,” Candee said. “I can’t believe you can eat that stuff.”
    Jonathan studied his sandwich before taking a bite. “I like it,” he said.
    “What did Tim say about his radio?” Candee asked.
    “He’s still pissed,” Jonathan said. “But at least he doesn’t think it was our fault anymore. The same thing happened to a friend of his brother’s.”
    “Can we still get the car?” Candee asked.
    “I’m afraid not,” Jonathan said.
    “What are we going to do?” Candee asked.
    “I don’t know,” Jonathan said. “I wish to hell my parents weren’t so tight-assed about our family car. They treat me like I’m twelve. The only time I can drive the thing is when they are along.”
    “At least your parents let you get your license,” Candee complained. “Mine are making me wait until I’m eighteen.”
    “That’s criminal,” Jonathan said. “If they tried that with me, I think I’d run away. But what good is my license without wheels? It’s so frustrating my parents won’t give me more credit than they do. I mean, I do have a brain. I’m getting good grades, I don’t do drugs.”
    Candee rolled her eyes.
    “I don’t consider that pot we tried drugs,” Jonathan said. “And how many times did we do it: twice!”
    “Hey, look,” Candee said. She pointed at the receiving dock about seventy-five feet away where trucks made deliveries. It was on the basement level and was approached by a ramp cut into the ground just behind the backstop of the baseball diamond.
    “Isn’t that Mr. Partridge with the school nurse?” Candee asked.
    “It sure is,” Jonathan said. “And he doesn’t look so good. Look at the way Miss Golden is holding him up. And listen to the old windbag cough.”
    At that moment an aged Lincoln Town Car pulled around the side of the building and descended the ramp. Behind the wheel Candee and Jonathan recognized Mrs. Partridge, whom the kids in the school called Miss Piggy. Mrs. Partridge seemed to be coughing as much as Mr. Partridge.
    “What a pair,” Jonathan commented.
    While Jonathan and Candee