36

THE RULES ARE: YOUR HOUSE is a safe zone. School is a safe zone, but not the parking lot. Once
you step out the door, it’s all fair game. You’re out if you get hit with a two-hand touch.
And if you renege on your wish, your life is forfeit. Genevieve comes up with that last part and it
gives me shivers. Trevor Pike shudders and says, “Girls are scary.”
“No, girls in their family are scary,” Peter says, gesturing at Chris and Genevieve. They both
smile, and in those smiles I see the family resemblance. Casting a sidelong glance at me, Peter says
hopefully, “You’re not scary, though. You’re sweet, right?” Suddenly I remember something Stormy
said to me. Don’t ever let him get too sure of you. Peter is very sure of me. As sure as a person
could be.
“I can be scary too,” I quietly say back, and he blanches. Then, to everyone else, I say, “Let’s just
have fun with it.”
“Oh, it’ll be fun,” John assures me. He puts his Orioles cap on his head and pulls the brim down.
“Game on.” He catches my eye. “If you thought I was good at Model UN, wait till you see my Zero
Dark Thirty skills.”
I walk with everyone out front to their cars, and I hear Peter tell Genevieve to get a ride with
Chris, which they both balk at. “Figure it out amongst yourselves,” Peter says. “I’m hanging out with
my girlfriend.”
Genevieve rolls her eyes and Chris groans. “Ugh. Fine.” To Genevieve she says, “Get in.”
Chris’s car is backing out of the driveway when John says to Peter, “Who’s your girlfriend?” My
stomach does a dip.
“Covey.” Peter gives him a funny look. “You didn’t know? That’s weird.”
Now they’re both looking at me. Peter’s confused, but John gets it, whatever “it” is.
I should have told him. Why didn’t I tell him?

Everyone leaves soon after, except for Peter.
“So are we going to talk about this?” he asks, trailing after me into the kitchen. I’ve got the trash
bag with all the ice cream wrappers and Capri Suns, and I refused his help carrying it down. Almost
tripped going down the ladder with it, but I don’t care.
“Sure, let’s talk.” I spin around and advance toward him, trash bag swinging in my hand. He lifts
his hands up in alarm. “Why did you bring Genevieve here?”
Peter grimaces. “Ugh, Covey, I’m sorry.”
“Were you hanging out with her? Is that why you didn’t come early to help me set up?”
He hesitates. “Yeah, I was with her. She called me crying, so I went over there, and then I couldn’t
just leave her by herself... so I brought her.”
Crying? I’ve never known her to cry. Even when her cat Queen Elizabeth died, she didn’t cry. She
must have been faking to get Peter to stay. “You couldn’t just leave her?”
“No,” he says. “She’s going through some shit right now. I’m just trying to be there for her. As a