Emily fell off my suitcase and skinned her knee.

In the midst of her tears, I spied the headlight on our train, and soon the engine was roaring into the station. "Here we go!" I cried, but I was caught first in an embrace by Nannie, then by Mom, and then by Watson. All around me, the other parents were hugging their kids. Half of the parents were crying. (None of my friends was. Although Mary Anne was poking her fingers into the cat carrier, and saying, " 'Bye, Tiggy-Tiggy-Tiggy.") "Okay, Watson, I gotta go," I said, pulling away. I stepped onto the train, followed by Claudia, Jessi, Mary Anne, Mallory, and Dawn. We struggled with our luggage until I noticed that Stacey hadn't boarded the train yet. She was still outside, saying things like, "I promise 1 won't let them ride the subway alone," and, "I don't think anyone would want to buy a hot dog from a street vendor." "I would," said Claudia, but luckily her parents didn't hear her.

"Come on, Stacey!" I cried. "The train's going to leave without you." I made a grab for her just as the doors started to close.

When Stacey was safely on board, the seven of us waved and called, "Good-bye! Goodbye!" Then we found an almost empty car. This was a good thing, since we and our luggage took up fifteen seats.

"We made it!" I said, as if we'd just escaped from prison.

"Okay, lunchtime," was Claudia's reply.

"Lunchtime? It's only ten o'clock," Mary Anne informed her.

"Well, I'm hungry." The rest of us decided we were, top, so we ate the snacks we'd brought along. Then Mary Anne returned to the stack of maps and guidebooks she brings along on every trip we take.

"Does anyone else have a sense of deja vul" I asked, glancing at Mary Anne.

"Me!" cried Claudia and Dawn, who'd been with Mary Anne and me when we'd visited Stacey for a weekend during the time she was back in New York.