38

PETER AND I ARE ONLY talking on the phone and at school until one of us gets tagged out. It won’t
be me. I’ve been super careful. I drive myself to and from school. I look around before I jump out of
my car and run like the wind to our front door. I’ve enlisted Kitty as my scout—she always gets out of
the car or the house first and makes sure the coast is clear for me. I’ve already promised her that
whatever I wish for if I win, she’ll get a piece of.
But so far I’ve only been playing defense. I haven’t tried to tag out John McClaren yet. It’s not
because I’m afraid—not of the game, anyway. I just don’t know what I’m going to say to him. I’m
embarrassed. Maybe I wouldn’t even need to say anything; maybe I’m being presumptuous even
thinking he might be interested in me.
After lunch, Chris comes flying down the hall and skids to a stop when she sees me and Lucas on
the floor at our lockers. Today we’re sharing a grape Popsicle. Chris sinks down to the floor. “I’m
out,” she says.
I gasp. “Who got you?”
“John freaking McClaren!” She snatches the Popsicle out of Lucas’s hands and finishes it in a gulp.
“Rude,” Lucas says.
“Tell us everything,” I urge.
“John tailed me on the way to school this morning. I stopped to get gas and he jumped out of the
car as soon as my back was turned. I didn’t even know he was following me!”
“Wait, how did he know you were going to stop for gas?” Lucas asks. He knows all about the
game, which will hopefully come in handy if it comes down to Genevieve and me, seeing as how he
lives in her neighborhood.
“He siphoned gas out of my tank!”
“Whoa,” I breathe. It warms my heart that John is taking it so seriously. I’d worried people
wouldn’t, but it seems like they are. I wonder what John’s wish is? It must be something good to go to
all this trouble.
“That’s legit,” Lucas says with a nod.
“I almost can’t be mad because it’s so hard-core.” She blows her hair out of her face. “I’m just so
pissed I can’t make Gen give me our grandma’s car.”
Lucas’s eyes bulge. “That’s what you were going to wish for? A car?”
“That car holds a lot of sentimental value for me,” Chris says. “Our grandma used to take me to the
beauty parlor with her in it on Sunday afternoons. By all rights it should be mine. Gen’s poisoned
Granny’s mind against me!”
“What kind of car is it?” Lucas asks.
“It’s an old Jaguar.”
“What color?” he wants to know.
“Black.”
If I didn’t know Chris better, I would think that was a tear forming in her eye. I put my arm around
her. “Want me to buy you another Popsicle?”
Chris shakes her head. “I’ve got to wear a crop top tonight. I can’t have a gut.”