40

ON THE PHONE A FEW nights later, Peter suddenly says, “You have me, don’t you?”
“No!” I haven’t told him I took out John over the weekend. I don’t want him—or Genevieve, for
that matter—to have any extra info. It’s down to the three of us now.
“So you do have me!” He lets out a groan. “I don’t want to play this game anymore. It’s making me
lonely and really... frustrated. I haven’t seen you outside of school for a week! When is this going to
be over?”
“Peter, I don’t have you. I have John.” I feel a little guilty for lying, but this is how winners play
this game. You can’t second-guess yourself.
There’s a silence on the other end. Then he says, “So are you going to drive over to his house to
tag him out? He lives in the middle of nowhere. I could take you if you want.”
“I haven’t figured out my game plan yet,” I say. “Who do you have?” I know it has to be me or
Genevieve.
He gets quiet. “I’m not saying.”
“Well, have you told anyone else?” Like, say, Genevieve?
“No.”
Hmm. “Okay, well, I just told you, so you obviously owe me that same courtesy.”
Peter bursts out, “I didn’t make you, you offered up that information yourself, and look, if it was a
lie and you have me, please just freaking take me out already! I’m begging you. Come to my house
right now, and I’ll let you sneak up to my room. I’ll be a sitting duck for you if it means I can see you
again.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No, I don’t want to win like that. When I get your name, I want to have the satisfaction of knowing
I beat you fair and square. My first ever Assassins win can’t be tainted.” I pause. “And besides, your
house is a safe zone.”
Peter lets out an aggravated sigh. “Are you at least coming to my lacrosse game on Friday?”
His lacrosse game! That’s the perfect place to take him out. I try to keep my voice calm and even
as I say, “I can’t come. My dad has a date, and he needs me to watch Kitty.” A lie, but Peter doesn’t
know that.
“Well, can’t you bring her? She’s been asking to go to one of my games.”
I think fast. “No, because she has a piano lesson after school.”
“Since when does Kitty play the piano?”
“Recently, in fact. She heard from our neighbor that it helps with training puppies; it calms them
down.” I bite my lip. Will he buy it? I hurry to add, “I promise I’ll be at the next game no matter
what.”
Peter groans, this time even louder. “You’re killing me, Covey.”
Soon, my dear Peter.
I will surprise him at the game; I’ll get all decked out in our school colors; I’ll even paint his
jersey number on my face. He’ll be so happy to see me, he won’t suspect a thing!