Jesse is too quiet on the way to school the next day.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Fine,” he says.

After another block of silence I ask, “You sure you’re good?”

“Great,” he says.

“Cool, cool. Did you know a guy in Peru gave five thousand one hundred seventy-four hugs in eight hours?”

“Neat,” Jesse says.

“Also, a guy in Zimbabwe kept a diary for ninety-one years.”

Jesse nods.

“To make the largest serving of guacamole, it took over twenty-five thousand avocados.”

He stays quiet.

“Are you really going to make me keep going? I can do this all day.”

“I don’t see why you got mad that I interviewed Pops.”

I shrug. “I don’t know.”

“He’s my family too, you know.”

“I know.”

We take a right turn. The crossing guard is up ahead.

“You beat me at everything,” I finally admit. “You can’t be the favorite kid for writing about my dad and get a better grade while doing it.”

We wait at the corner until the crossing guard steps into the middle of the street and holds up a stop sign.

“I don’t beat you at everything,” Jesse says. “I don’t have a world record.”

Neither do I, I think.

“Whatever,” I say.

Thursday in Computer is internet scavenger hunt day. This means we read articles on the Schoolside News website and answer the questions Mrs. Morrow gives us. We’re allowed to help one another if we get stuck, and Jesse and I take full advantage of this.

On the way to my seat, I grab a handout from Mrs. Morrow’s desk. I also get one for Jesse and set it next to his computer. Jesse gets there right before the bell rings.

I go to the tab for Schoolside News, click on the Current Events section, and check the first question on the handout: What is Diwali and how is it celebrated? I already know the answer to this because we have a party to celebrate Diwali at school every year, but I still copy the info from the article. On my paper, I write, “The Festival of Lights. Diwali gets its name from the row of clay lamps set outside homes to symbolize the inner light that protects from spiritual darkness.”

I move on to question two: What are cracks on the moon’s surface called, and what do scientists think are causing them?

“Hey, Milo,” Jesse whispers. “Look at this. I found an article you might be interested in.” A picture of Shotwell Stadium in Abilene, Texas, fills my screen.

Oh no. Please, no.

Jesse sits there just waiting. I glance around to make sure nobody’s watching, and I read:

BAD BEEF IN TEXAS: A WORLD-RECORD-FOOD-POISONING INCIDENT

Reportedly 1,182 people in Abilene, Texas, simultaneously earned a world record—but not the one they were attempting. These record setters all experienced food poisoning, allegedly from the brisket served by the 4U BBQ food truck, and suffered severe stomach cramps, diarrhea, and nausea due to the food-borne illness. All victims were part of the Guinness-record-setting attempt of MOST PEOPLE DRESSED AS INSECTS. Although the attendees were forced to abandon their insect-clad, record-setting hopes after the symptoms began, most still earned a record: MOST FOOD POISONING VICTIMS EVER RECORDED AT A SINGLE PLACE. Paramedics treated several of these award winners at the scene. At least 274 people were taken to a nearby hospital, where they were treated and released. The owner of 4U BBQ declined to comment at this time, although he did confirm that his business is not operating until the investigation is complete.

“Nope.” I hit the Power button of his monitor. His screen turns black.

“What do you mean, nope?” Jesse turns his monitor back on.

In my peripheral vision, I see Mrs. Morrow slowly stand. She walks over to us. “Is there a problem here, boys?” she asks.

Jesse’s screen pings back to life.

“His computer shut off,” I say.

Jesse side-eyes me. “Something was wrong. But I’m fixing it now.”

Mrs. Morrow nods. “Okay. Let me know if it happens again, and I’ll check it out.”

“He will,” I say.

Once the teacher is back at her desk, Jesse leans over. “You lied to me.”

The picture of Shotwell Stadium remains in full view on his computer. I consider using my foot to yank the plug from the wall.

“I promise I’ll explain. After class.”

He frowns. I mimic his expression.

“Everything still okay, boys?” Mrs. Morrow asks.

“Yes, ma’am,” I say to the teacher. “Later.” I lean in to tell Jesse. “I promise.”

“As long as you promise. Because since I just caught you lying, I totally trust everything you say.”