Now, I said before that Stan is a good guy, a great guy even. Because he is. But the one thing he is not is scary. To begin with, Stan is skinny as a swamp reed. He wears glasses. He sniffs every once in a while, like he’s always on the edge of a cold. Flopping around in a booby trap, he looked about as harmless as a baby bird that had fallen out of its nest, but that didn’t stop Kelsey from racing out of the trailer like her hair was on fire, waving a frying pan.
“Get away from him!” she screamed, swinging the pan in Stan’s direction. When she reached Eric, she flung her arm in front of him, herding him back.
“Stop grabbing me,” Eric shouted.
“Would you listen to me for once,” she shouted back.
Meanwhile, Stan’s arms and legs flailed, his limbs caught up in an old fishing net that had been strung over the shallow pit of Eric’s booby trap.
“It’s okay,” I said, stepping in front of Stan. “He’s my stepdad.”
It felt weird to call Stan that. I hadn’t introduced him to many people since he and Mom got married. Usually I called him “Stan.”
Kelsey blinked. “You’re that girl.”
“Maddy,” I said. “Maddy Gaines. Eric’s friend? We just came over to visit.”
She lowered the frying pan, but her grip was still white-knuckled.
Stan finally freed his arms from the tangle of netting and sat up. The sides of the pit only came up to his waist.
“Hello,” he said from the ground. He got to his feet, brushed off his khakis, and extended a hand. “I’m Stan Wachowski. Pleased to meet you.”
Kelsey gave Stan a quick nod, ignoring his out-stretched hand. He shifted his hand toward Eric, who flinched. Stan let his hand drop. “Sorry for barging in. I was checking on Maddy.”
“And I was bringing you a pie,” I said.
Eric held up the pie box, and Kelsey glared at it like it was booby-trapped, too.
“It’s lemon,” Eric said, but she only glared harder.
“How many times have I got to tell you?” she said. “You don’t need to build them traps.”
“It’s your fault we need them,” Eric shot back.
All the fire went out of Kelsey at once. Eric’s face closed up like a book, and an awkward silence settled over us.
If I set aside their hair color, Kelsey and Eric looked an awful lot alike. Same stubby nose, same blue eyes, but their ears were different. Kelsey’s didn’t stick out. Her black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and on second look, it was definitely dyed. A dark blue tattoo peeked out from under the sleeve of her green Lucky T-shirt.
Before I could figure out what to say next, Diesel Jessup’s father charged around the trailer with a shotgun in his hands. He ran in front of Kelsey and Eric and started to lift the gun.
“John, it’s me!” Stan shouted, and recognition lit in Mr. Jessup’s eyes.
He lowered the gun and bent over his knees, his breath coming in heavy pants. “Dang it, Stan. I just about shot you.” He glanced at Kelsey. “You okay?”
She had her arm around Eric, who actually let her hold him for a second before he shook her off and moved away. “We’re fine,” Kelsey said.
Mr. Jessup blew out a long breath. “Good Lord. I thought Bob was out here. About gave me a heart attack.” He lifted his hat to wipe his bald head. “Sorry about that, Stan.”
“It’s okay,” Stan said a little weakly, his eyes still fixed on the gun.
Mr. Jessup’s eyes settled on me. “Well, hello there, Maddy Gaines. It’s been a while since we’ve seen you.”
“I’ve been busy,” I said, leaving out the part about Diesel being a jerk. “Are they your family or something?” I said, looking between Mr. Jessup and Kelsey.
Kelsey’s eyes went wide, but Mr. Jessup gave me a big ol’ smile. “Naw, we’re old friends is all. We go way back.”
“Maybe you know my wife, then?” Stan said to Kelsey. “Sarah Wachowski. Formerly Gaines. Her parents have since moved down to Florida, but she went to Northern High School.”
“Never heard of her,” Kelsey said, her eyes hard. “I think you’d best be on your way.”
“Of course.” Stan nodded. “Sorry again for the confusion.”
Mr. Jessup tipped his hat. “I’ll see you around, Stan. Tell Sarah I said hello.”
“Sorry about the trap,” Eric said.
Stan waved him off. “No worries. Really.”
“It’s not like it worked or anything,” I joked.
Eric gave me that sly grin of his. “Good thing I didn’t put the spikes in yet.”
Stan and I were quiet as we walked back to the road. It was late enough that the stars were coming out, and my mind buzzed with everything that had happened. I needed to get home and call Cress so we could talk in private. Hopefully she’d be willing to help me figure it all out.
“Well, that was interesting,” Stan said as we climbed on our bikes.
“You can say that again.”
“‘That again,’” he said, and I groaned.
Stan may be a good guy, but he is very, very far from cool.