I raise my hands in surrender. “Who am I being traded for?”
The band’s bassist takes my bandana, and I head off with the red team, but not before I glance back to see Thad with one hand on Ren’s shoulder, strategizing with him in a low voice. It sends a small twinge of disappointment through me. I wouldn’t have hated to be on the same team as Ren.
I shake the thought away. We have a game to win.
We all break on Leo’s signal, but the first round is a disaster. Ren, who also ran track in high school, puts almost half the red team in jail in minutes, darting around the woods near silently, paving the way for Leo to sail over me where I’m supposed to be standing guard at the swing set to steal our flag. Blue wins.
“Look at them,” Sasha says, watching Ren and Leo celebrate after. She squints. “Do they have a secret handshake?”
The second round kicks off, and Stevie and Oliver guard our flag. On offense this time, I run through the forest with Sasha. She stays in front of me, crouched so as not to disturb any of the lower hanging branches and alert someone to our presence. We stick close to the trees, pausing every few seconds to listen for footsteps.
We’re about to cross the path when a hand lands on my shoulder, jerking me to a stop.
I whirl to find Ren, who’s frowning down at me in asorry you had to loseway, eyes shining at the same time as Sasha howls, “No!” and Thad pops out of the trees above us and lunges toward her. I’d assumed that fatherhood ended his tree-climbing days, but apparently I was wrong.
“Come on,” I say as Thad begins to lead us toward jail. “Were you guys just lying in wait?”
Ren jogs backward up the trail, grinning. “Got to keep up!” he calls.
We reconvene at the swing set before the next round, circle close around Sasha.
“You,” she says, pointing at the lead guitarist. “You’re our jailer this round.”
He nods and heads toward the slide, rubbing his hands together in preparation.
“Joni,” Sasha says to me. “You run like hell toward the flag.”
“She has the shortest legs,” Stevie says.
“I amnotthat short,” I say, indignant. It is my lot in life to be of average height but surrounded by enough tall people that I seem shorter than I am. I was devastated when I reached my early twenties and had to make peace with the fact that a final growth spurt was never coming for me.
“You are,” Sasha says.
“I’ll run,” Stevie says.
“I’llrun,” I cut in. They both glance skeptically at me. I roll my eyes. “I’m fast.”
“Better be,” Sasha says as she spots the waving beam of Leo’s flashlight, his signal that the round is beginning. Stevie ducks into the trees next to us, ready to keep an eye out for anyone approaching, and Sasha looks at me, eyes going wide. “Go!” she says, thrusting me forward.
“Oh, shit,” I say. I take off in a dead sprint across the yard.
My two-second error cost us, though. Just as I’m about to cut through the side yard, Ren steps into my path. I let out a sound that’s half scream, half laugh and dart around him, but I’m not fast enough. His arm comes around my middle and he hauls me up against him, my knees bending as I grasp to push him off.
“Oh mygod,” I say once he’s set me down. “Are you coming after me on purpose?”
“It’s kind of the point of the game. Making sure you can’t get the flag.”
I throw a hand out, indicating the side yard still stretching out behind us. “I’m yards away from your flag!”
“Be proactive, not reactive, Joni,” he says instructively, then lets a wry smile slip.
“Do you say that when you’re coaching too?” I ask, taunting him.
“Of course.” He hooks a finger under my chin just long enough for me to have to look up at him. “Got to keep an eye on your opponent,” he adds quietly.
“Sabotage!”
We both jump at the sound of Thad’s voice.
