We’d shot hoops and eaten lunch. After scarfing down his tofu burger, Cody had wandered off while I cleaned up. I wiped the table, then rested my back against the fridge.
Now what? The first week in August my family would be camping in the North Georgia mountains, but until then? Not much.
I had a stack of required summer reading to do before I hit AP English at Leon High. Dad had recommended I “pace myself,” which meant don’t wait until the end of August to start reading, but even he would be amazed. I’d started reading To Kill a Mockingbird first thing this morning, and until the day cooled down a little I couldn’t think of anything else to do.
I wandered into the den where I’d left the book open on the arm of the sofa, but somebody had closed it. “Cody!” I yelled. No answer. Some teacher had told him that leaving an open book facedown hurt its spine. Cody thinks a book’s spine actually hurts—he isn’t real clear on the difference between living things and just things.
I flopped down, shoving the couch back a few inches, and it made a funny sound—like a surprised snort. A snorting couch? I was beginning to think like Cody.
It wasn’t hard to find my place in the book. I hadn’t gotten far. Page four—so maybe I didn’t need to kill him.
I was a couple of chapters in when I heard a knock on the front door, then the sound of the door opening slowly. “Ben?”
“In here!” I yelled.
Justin appeared in the door, a fresh ketchup stain on his Killer App T-shirt.
“Fries for lunch?”
“Nope. I finished the fries at breakfast.” He looked down. “The foraging was slim so I had cereal. Since it was lunch I thought I’d try Special K with ketchup. FYI? Bad idea.” The couch made the same funny sound as Jus fell onto the cushions beside me. He didn’t mention it, so I didn’t either. He nodded at the book in my lap. “What’re you reading?”
“Something on the list.”
“Come on, we just got out of school and you’re doing required reading?” He drummed on the edge of the couch.
“Anything going on at your place?” I asked.
“Just the Mom and Dad show. Dad’s home this week. He and Mom are having ‘together time.’”
“How’s that working out?”
“About like you’d expect. Hey, you think Cody would lend me his power hat so I can kick Dad’s butt out?”
I stretched and hung the book back over the arm of the couch. “There’s gotta be something to do.”
Justin shoved his legs out straight. “Not necessarily.” His socks ballooned around his ankles; they’d lost their snap.
We rested our necks on the back of the couch and stared at the ceiling.
I was about to ask him if the swirl in the plaster over our heads looked like a dog sniffing its own butt when a high-pitched voice from behind the couch yelled, “She’s coming!”
I whipped around. “Cody, you little punk! Why didn’t you say you were back there?”
“I would’ve, but you were mad about the book.”
“Who’s coming?” Justin asked.
“Cass!”
I peered into the gap between the couch and the wall. No wonder he’d made those noises. We had him pinned good, the brim of his hat folded up on both sides. I snatched the hat off his head. “Who says she is?”
“Why should I tell you?” He blinked up at me. “You don’t believe in it.”
“Hey!” The couch creaked as Justin leaned forward. “Check it out, Ben.”
I turned and looked out our front window. Cass was wandering slowly down the street.
Cody crawled out from behind the couch. “Told ya!” he crowed.
“Lucky guess, Detective Dobbs.”
“It wasn’t lucky, and it wasn’t a guess. Can I please have my hat?”
I plopped it back on his head and watched Cass, who had leaned over to smell one of Mom’s roses. Her parents don’t like her knocking on our door—something about chasing boys.
“She wants you to notice her,” said the voice under the hat.
“Okay, Ben.” Justin shoved himself to his feet. “Guess you better go out there and notice her. And I better get over to the Lewises’ and practice.”
I pointed at the ketchup on his shirt. “You might want to rinse that off before Jemmie sees you.”
He held out the front of his shirt and shrugged. “Like it’ll make a difference.”
“Wash it off,” said the voice from under the hat.