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Rita stared right back at him. She fingered her car keys sitting on the kitchen table. “Then you’re not getting a ride.”
“Fine. Her name is Wendy,” Barrie muttered. “And that’s all the details I’m giving you.”
“Oh, Barrie’s got a crush on…W-E-N-D-Y,” Rita said, making a kissy face. “I can’t wait to tell Brooke about this. She’s gonna die laughing.”
On second thought, maybe he should skate out there. Nothing was worth this. Giving his sister leverage over him was a terrible idea.
“Do that—and you’ll pay,” Barrie said, regretting asking for help.
“Goober, you’re not exactly in a position to bargain,” Rita said, firing off a quick text to Brooke. “As I recall, you’re just a kid, and I’m the one with the driver’s license.”
“Ugh, I hate you,” Barrie muttered. But she was right. She had him cornered. Just the way she liked it.
“I love you, too,” Rita said, scooping up her keys. “I’ll give you a ride, but just ’cause I’m feeling generous tonight. And I hate that stupid prep class. But this is a onetime deal—don’t make a habit of it.”
* * *
“Dude, your sister is driving way over the speed limit,” John said nervously as Rita sped off, leaving them down the street from the entrance to the marina. She’d promised to pick them up in two hours sharp. “And what’s this about you having a crush on Wendy?”
“Wait, Wendy Derry?” Michael said. “Uh, she’s kinda weird.”
Barrie sighed. “No, I made all that up so Rita would give us a ride. I was trying to think of something fast…and well…that’s the first idea that popped into my head.”
“Wendy was the first idea?” Michael said, looking at John with a sly smile. “Uh-oh, ya know what that means?”
“Wait, what’re you talking about?” Barrie said. “It’s not true—I swear it! I just made that up to convince Rita.”
“Dude, it means that you actually like her,” Michael said. “Like, if you’re stressed out—and she’s your first thought?”
“Yeah, you wanna kiss Wendy,” John said, making a puckered face. “Like, if the zombie apocalypse hit, her face would flash before your eyes. That’s how you know it’s true love.”
“For the record, I don’t like Wendy—or any other lame girls from our class,” Barrie said with a dramatic sigh. “She probably doesn’t even remember me!”
“See, you do like her!” Michael said triumphantly. “Or else why would you care if she forgot about you?”
Barrie stormed ahead in a funk. This was the last thing he wanted to think about. He had far more important things to think about. But then doubt crept into his mind.
Why had he thought up that story for Rita?
He shook his head, clearing the thought. He didn’t like girls. They talked too much. They giggled at things that weren’t even funny. They smelled like hair spray and baby powder. Basically, they made zero sense. His sister proved that. And they were scary, too.
“Look, we have more important things to worry about,” Barrie said, skidding to a halt on the sidewalk next to the guardrail that looked over the water. The waves churned and sloshed up against the rocks down below, spritzing his face. “Like how do I get on that pirate ship?”
Barrie pointed across the marina to the Jolly Roger, which was docked in its usual spot by the gates to the maritime museum. It was late and already closed. There was a main building that housed the museum, but the pirate ship had its own entrance over by the water.
“Let’s go check it out,” John suggested, pointing to the ship.
Together they jogged over and hid near the ticket booth. If you bought a ticket to the museum, it granted you access to both the main museum and the pirate ship. The gate that led to the Jolly Roger’s gangplank was chained shut. The ship was dark since it was after hours. The skull and crossbones flag flapped in the stiff breeze whipping off the ocean.
Barrie swallowed hard. The gangplank swayed and buckled as the waves churned under it. He was still afraid of the ocean and whatever lurked under those dark waves.
“So, how do we get onto the ship?” he asked, feeling his stomach twist.
He scanned for the security guards, spotting one ambling down the sidewalk in front of the main museum building. His gut jutted over his belt. He didn’t look very formidable. But he could always summon help. And the Jolly Roger was right in his line of sight.
“Right, I count just the one guard over there,” Michael said, following Barrie’s gaze toward the security guard by the main museum. “I bet it’s just that one rent-a-cop.”
“Yup, and that lock on the gate,” John said, pointing to the hefty padlock. The metal gate to their right blocked the entrance to the gangplank that led to the Jolly Roger.
