He looks away, and a beat or two goes by, and I’m totally expecting another “Nothing.” But then he shakes his head and turns to me, and slowly, his dark eyes fill with tears. The sight unnerves me. I’ve never seen him cry, not even when that bully on the bus punched him.
“Beans?” I hesitantly ask.
“We’re losing our house,” he quietly admits. “And I might have to go live with my dad.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s being foreclosed on. Mom says Dad didn’t give her enough alimony and child support, but Dad says she spent all the money on herself instead of paying the bills.” Beans sniffs and wipes his nose with the back of his hand. “I don’t know. They went to court and everything.”
I think about the way his mom dresses and the fancy car she drives. Their house, too. Super nice with the big pool in back, where we always hang out. “But I thought you were rich?”
Beans just shakes his head, and I reach over and give him a hug as my mind starts to reel with memories.…
Rigging his room with fishing line to catch the tooth fairy. Camping out in his living room with a Scooby-Doo sheet for a tent. Cooking chili dogs with his mom’s curling iron.
This can’t be happening. Beans can’t leave. He’s one of my best friends.
Maybe he can come live with me. Or maybe we can convince his mom to sell her fancy car and pay their bills.
“We’ll figure it out,” I tell him.
“I know all y’all think my mom is mean, but really she’s just stressed.”
“We don’t think she’s mean,” I assure him, though of course we do. But I guess her behavior makes sense. She might be losing everything, including Beans.
He smiles weakly. “Don’t tell the others yet, okay? I don’t want them to know.”
If he’s embarrassed his mom spent all their money, he doesn’t need to be. But I don’t say that and instead assure him. “Okay, I won’t.”
“Promise?”
I give him another quick hug. “I promise.”
The others still haven’t caught up yet, I’m sure because of Scarlett. So together Beans and I climb through the barbed wire and make our way up the grassy hill toward the silo. Heaven help us if Old Man Basinger ever does one of those fancy electric fences around here. Though Beans could probably figure it out. Some sort of antielectric thingamajig.
I love Beans’s inventions. Last year he made a vest that’s sort of like one of those Swiss Army knives. Each pocket and zipper and flap doubled as a survival device, but the zipper was the best part. If you removed it, it could be used as a flexible blade to saw wood. Yeah, Beans has got a cool brain. He definitely can’t leave. We need him.
I need him.
It’s almost dark now, but we don’t dare switch on our flashlights as we approach the silo. I glance back to see Fynn, Rocky, and Scarlett just now dropping their bikes and climbing through the barbed wire. Rocky steps on the bottom strip and pulls the top one up for Scarlett to safely climb through.
He’s never held the barbed wire for me. None of them have.
Grabbing on to the first rung of the silo ladder, Beans starts climbing, and I follow behind. Halfway up I stop and look down to see the other three beginning their ascent. Scarlett’s babbling and giggling about something, and somewhere in the mix I hear Rocky chuckle. But it’s not a real laugh, it’s a fake one. He’s my friend, and I know the difference.
Frankly, I don’t know why people fake-laugh. It’s the stupidest thing ever. If I don’t think something’s funny, I don’t laugh. Kind of a no-brainer.
Beans keeps climbing and I follow, and when we reach the top, we crawl under the railing and scooch over to make room for the others. A few minutes later Fynn pops up, followed by Scarlett, and then Rocky.
When they’re all on this side of the railing, Scarlett stands for a second and looks out over Basinger’s farm. “Wow!” she exclaims, and claps her hands.
Yep, it is pretty impressive.
We lived in Los Angeles before we moved here. I don’t remember much, but I do remember a lot of concrete and small houses with even smaller yards. Here it’s all green and hilly with trees and fields and mountains in the distance. Mom says it’s picturesque.
All I know is that it’s just about the best place ever to play and get lost with my friends. Oh, and snow tubing is awesome. Especially when you hit a bump and go flying out of the tube.
I never want to leave. I never want my friends to leave, either.
“Be careful,” Rocky tells Scarlett, and motions for her to sit.
Yeah, we wouldn’t want her to fall over the railing or anything.
Rocky nudges in to sit between me and Scarlett. Good. I don’t want to sit next to her anyway.
“You’re wearing a bra,” Rocky notices, looking straight at the front of my tee.
Beans giggles. I feel my cheeks get hot as I look down at my white Guns N’ Roses tee, and sure enough, I can see the outline of the training bra Mom made me put on. I never get embarrassed, but right now my face goes from red to full-on fire.
I defend myself. “It’s a sports thing!”
“That doesn’t even make sense,” Rocky says.
“Yes, it does.” Fynn points to my T-shirt. “Your sister wears one of those when she plays basketball.”
Rocky thinks about that a second. “Oh, yeah, true.”
“Oh, my God!” I yell. “Can we drop it?”
“What’s the big deal?” Scarlett asks. “She’s a girl. Girls wear bras.”
“But she’s Annie,” Rocky says. Like that even makes sense. Have the guys really not noticed until now?
“Just shut up,” I snap, and then I shove Rocky, sending him right into Scarlett.
She screams, like she’s about to plummet to her death, and Rocky grabs her. “I’ve got you,” he says, and she giggles again, and the bra topic is officially over.
Thank God.
Fynn swats his neck. “Great. Mosquitoes.” He slides a small spray bottle from his front pocket and squirts it and then offers it to us, but we all shake our heads. He lies back then, and for a few minutes we quietly stare up at the sky and the millions of stars.
Then Beans sits up and rifles around in his bag and pulls out the plastic baby bottle telescope. Rocky and Fynn don’t really care about Beans’s inventions, but I do, especially when I get to help him make stuff.
This one we made last week in anticipation of the meteor shower. On the small end we wrapped electrical tape around a tiny magnifying glass. We cut the bottom off the larger end of the bottle and taped a bigger magnifier there.
Holding the small end up to his eye, Beans peers through, and eagerly I watch, itching for my turn.
After a few seconds, he hands over the telescope, and I close one eye as I peer through, too. Wow, it really does work. I can see the haloes of light around the stars and everything.
“I made a telescope once,” Scarlett says. “It won a National Science Award. The judges said it was the best they had ever seen. There was even this guy there from NASA who took it back with him.”
“NASA? Really?” Beans asks, and I think he just fell in love with her brain.
She nods. “Swear to God.”
Fynn glances over at me and whispers, “She tells a lot of ‘tall tales.’”
I laugh a little, and Fynn reaches for the telescope. “My turn.”
I hand the homemade telescope over and then close my eyes and settle back onto the silo. A warm breeze floats past, and I inhale the relaxing scent of grass and hay.
None of us speak for a few moments. If I could freeze time, this would be a good moment right here.
I don’t know why my mom was harping on me to make new friends. I know the Scouts are going to be friends forever. I smile a little as I remember the very first time we got into trouble.…
Planting his hands on his hips, the principal bent over and got right in our faces. He looked first at me, then Fynn, Rocky, and Beans, then
right back at me. “What do you have to say for yourselves?”
I bit my pinky nail. “Dad said carpet that had boric acid on it is fire retarded.”
“Retardant,” Beans corrected me, and the principal shot him a look.
“So you all just decided to light the hallway carpet on fire and see?” The principal swerved his gaze back to me. “The idea occurred to you all at the same time?”
The Scouts and I exchanged looks. All for one and all that, right? So in perfect synchronicity, we answered, “Yes, sir!”
I knew then I had found my people. I’m about to remind them of that story, when Scarlett’s voice breaks the silence. “When’s this meteor shower supposed to happen?”
“Any time now,” Beans answers.
I hear something pop, and open my eyes. Rocky takes a slurp of RC Cola and passes the can. I take a gulp and burp. Then Beans. Fynn wipes the opening before his own slurp and burp. Then we look at Rocky, who slurped but didn’t burp. It’s what we do. Gulp RC and burp. Why isn’t he burping?
Rocky cuts us a guilty cringe as he swerves his gaze to Scarlett, who is staring at the sky. I narrow my eyes. What, now he’s suddenly a gentleman?
“There it is!” Scarlett shouts, and I nearly choke on my next gulp.
Beans scrambles to grab the homemade telescope, and I glance up to the sky to see a single shooting star.
“Cool,” Rocky says.
“Yeah,” I agree as another streaks across.
Then another. And another.
“Amazing,” Fynn says.
“You seeing this?” I ask Beans, and he excitedly nods.
Another. And another. Silently, we all watch as what seems like dozens of stars streak through the sky. I don’t blink. I don’t breathe. I don’t want to miss anything.
“Oh, my God.” Beans points behind us. “Look at that one!”
I swerve around and stare at what starts out as a small white glow trailing through the sky, and I watch as it gets bigger. Bigger. Bigger. This one is going to be way closer than any of the others. I feel the silo begin to vibrate as I realize this shooting star is low. Too low. My heart jumps to my throat. It’s—
“It’s coming right toward us!” Fynn screams.
Frantically, we scramble over one another, hollering, trying to get down, but it keeps coming. Faster. Faster. Bigger. Bigger. Hissing now. Shaking the air around us.
“Duck!” Rocky yells, and we flatten ourselves to the silo.
Panting, trembling, I stare straight at it, my eyes glued wide, my ears ringing, terror prickling across my skin.
It’s going to hit us! Please, God, don’t let me die!
An intense bright light flares as the meteor whistles through the air right over our heads.
The silo shakes hard, and the light flashes to orange, then yellow, and then disappears into the horizon.
And then nothing but silence.
I stay pressed against the silo with my shoulders planted into the warm concrete. Beside me, Fynn gasps, and I know he’s about to have an asthma attack.
With a swallow, I push myself up, and with shaky hands, I slide his inhaler from his front pocket and press it into his palm.
Rocky sits up next and looks over at me with a wigged-out expression that I know I must share, too.
“Holy…” Beans whispers.
Together we stare out into the night and miles away to where the meteor fell. A faint yellow glow gradually fades until the whole area blankets to darkness again.
“I bet it’s”—Fynn wheezes—“an extraterrestrial.”
“Did you watch Alien again?” Beans asks.
Fynn sits up on another wheeze. “Maybe.”
Rocky agrees. “A UFO, and they’re going to suck our brains right out of our heads.”
“Only one way we’re going to find out.” I stand up and look down at all my friends—and Scarlett—and an idea forms. “Scouts, we—”
“Why do you call yourselves Scouts?” she interrupts.
I switch my gaze over to her. “Because our town is too small for an actual Boy Scout troop, so we made our own.”
“But you’re not a boy,” she says.
I ignore her, because that’s so not the point, and turn back to my friends. “We are hiking to where that thing went down and we’re finding it. This will be our greatest adventure yet.” I make sure to look directly at Beans as I say the next part. “I bet whoever finds that meteor will be famous. They’ll probably get some kind of major science award and lots of money.”
Rocky agrees. “Probably like a million dollars.”
I keep looking at Beans. “Think about what we could do with that money.”
He nods, clearly now seeing what I am suggesting. “Yeah.”
“This will be so much fun!” Scarlett claps her hands.
Oh, heck, no. She’s not coming. “It’ll be dirty.”
She gets up. “So?”
“And also scary. Very, very”—I lean forward—“very scary.”
“I’m coming with you,” she says.
Fynn shakes his head. “No, you’re not.”
“I’ll tell all your parents if you don’t let me.” Her blond eyebrows knowingly lift.
Collectively we sigh. She has us there.
I fold my arms. “Okay, but this is how it works. We’ve perfected this over the years, so don’t screw it up. We’ll set up our campsite in the usual place and leave a note saying we went to the tree house, which is located in Rocky’s backyard. In the tree house, we leave a note saying we went to the fort, which we built in that empty lot across from my house. At the fort, we leave a note saying we’re in Fynn’s basement. By the time they track all the notes, which they never do, we’re back from our adventure.” This time I lift my brows. “Got it?”
She purses her lips. “They never come looking for you?”
“Believe me, we know what we’re doing.” I look at the Scouts to back me up on this, and they all nod. “Got it?” I ask her again.
She smiles. “Got it.”
We all climb down the silo, and as soon as we’re back on the grass, Rocky says, “I’ll take Scarlett with me to set up the tent, and you guys can do the notes.”
“I’ll go with you.” Fynn starts to follow.
Rocky stops him. “Why don’t you leave the notes instead?”
“Oh.” Fynn frowns. “Okay, I guess.”
They head off in different directions, and I watch Fynn and Rocky for a second. Maybe this trip will be good for them. Or rather, good for Rocky. Maybe it’ll help him get over whatever his problem is with their parents dating.
I turn to Beans, who is staring at the purple bandana wrapped around my head. He reaches up and brushes his hand across the top and brings his fingers down to show me some silver glittery stuff.
It’s then that I notice the stuff is in his hair, too, and a little bit on our clothes. “What is it?” I ask.
He runs his thumb across the pads of his fingers. “Must be paint from the silo.”
I look at Beans for a second, and it really hits me how much he means to me. How truly sad I would be to lose him.
“What?” he asks, picking up on my mood.
“Nothing.” I smile. “Beans, if we find that thing, it’ll probably be worth a lot of money.” Excitement bubbles through me. “You guys can pay your bills, and you won’t have to move.”
This is huge. Beans can stay right at home where he belongs… with us.
The Scouts.
He brushes his fingers off on his jeans before giving me a huge grin. “I know. Let’s go!”
CHAPTER 3
In less than half an hour, everyone is back.
Beans unfolds a map and lays it out on the grass.
“Where’d you get that?” Fynn asks.
Beans peels his lips off his braces. “I snuck back in my house and grabbed it.” He flicks on his flashlight, and we all move in to get a closer look. Clicking a mechanical pencil, he makes an X. “This is w
here we are.” He makes another X. “This is where I believe the unknown object went down.”
My gaze moves between both Xs. Seems like a long way. “How do you know?”
“Distance equals velocity times time. But I’ve also factored in the positioning of the moon and the height of the silo. The speed I estimate the object was traveling and my trajectory of—”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” We all wave our hands in the air. Beans tends to rattle on.
“I believe the meteor is fifteen miles from here.” Beans trails his flashlight over the map. “Bikes stay here. We’re on foot. I highly doubt we’ll be on Basinger’s property the whole way. Though if I had time to pull property maps, I’d know for sure.” He takes out a compass. “That’s a north-by-northwest route.”
“Okay, and what about the Mason Mountain Clan?” Fynn gives us all a worried glance. “Anybody thought about them?”
Beans scoffs. “Don’t tell me you actually believe those rumors.”
Fynn looks at me. I look at Rocky. And we all nervously shrug.
“Sort of,” I say.
“Mountain Clan?” Scarlett asks.
“It’s nothing,” Beans says. “I mean, seriously. Have any of you actually seen one of these Masons?”
We look at one another. Well, no, but still.
Beans nods his head toward the dark mountains emerging from the moonlit horizon. “They’re supposed to live up in there somewhere,” he tells Scarlett. “Moonshiners. Mean. They kill and eat kids.”
Scarlett doesn’t say anything for a second, and I think she might suggest we turn back. Which wouldn’t be a bad idea—the her-turning-back thing. At least then I’d be rid of her. But she bursts out laughing instead. “What? Like in ‘Hansel and Gretel’? You guys have got to be kidding me.”
I scowl. I don’t like her making fun of us. But put like that, it does sound kind of ridiculous.
“See?” Beans says. “I told you. All the parents tell the kids that story so we won’t wander off. I can’t believe you guys seriously believe it.”
“I didn’t say I believed it,” Rocky defends himself, and I shoot him an incredulous look. He does too believe it.
Beans turns his flashlight off. “Okay, enough about them. All lights off. We don’t want anyone to see us heading out. The moon is bright enough—we can navigate by it and save our batteries.”
Scouts Page 2
