She's almost done pointlessly speculating when her parents call her to dinner; she hastily writes
Gotta go eat, back in an hourish
on the next line, shoves the notebook in a desk drawer under last year's geometry workbook, and goes downstairs.
Her dad asks if she's looking forward to high school. She says yes on autopilot and then realizes it's a lie. This morning she was looking forward to high school; now she isn't going to go. Her dad says it's going to be some of the best years of her life.
Her mom asks if she's going to try harder to make friends this year. She spins a few strands of spaghetti onto her fork and says she thinks she's going to do better at it than last year. Her mom smiles supportively.
Later on she asks them, "If you had a chance to go explore another world, like in Chronicles of Narnia, would you do it?"
"Other worlds aren't real, Brenda," says her mom.
"It's a hypothetical," says Brenda.
"I wouldn't run out on you two," says her dad. "Got to keep paying the bills."
Brenda nods and eats more spaghetti. Her stomach feels like it's wandered off somewhere but she's not going to another world hungry. Or going to bed before her first day of school hungry, if she doesn't get everything done tonight. Probably she should put if off until morning even if she does, just to be well-rested and make sure she's thought of everything she's going to. She's pretty sure that's logic and not being a scaredy cat.
As soon as she's full, or at least unwilling to eat more, she excuses herself and heads back upstairs.