I gave her a look.
“Trust me, Toby,” Chloe said, “if you can take him out, Lucy can handle the rest.”
Lucy smiled serenely, which, given the circumstances, was just a wee bit creepy.
“And there’s a slight chance that we may have some contactsinside the tanning salon. Hopefully, though, it won’t come to that. Like I said before, physically engaging the enemy is a last resort, as are weapons.”
Lucy sighed then, as if it would pain her greatly to holster her weapon of choice. That made me wonder what exactly the weapon of choice was, so I voiced the question.
“We just want to disable him,” Lucy said. “We don’t want to hurt him, so we should probably each take a Taser and some knockout patches. If things get sticky, one of us should have a gun.”
Lucy and Chloe looked at Tara, who inclined her head slightly. I, for one, was grateful that if any varsity cheerleader was going to be packing, it was Tara. Despite Lucy’s expertise, she was just bouncy enough that the idea of her holding a firearm was a little bit scary, and needless to say, I wasn’t exactly keen on the idea of giving Chloe any literal ammunition. As for me, I didn’t want a gun. I’d never been a fan of weapons—I preferred to fight hand to hand.
“Are the Tasers in the guidepost?” Chloe asked Lucy.
Lucy nodded. “They look like those teeny-tiny iPods,” she said, “but if you use the scrolling function, the pointy things will pop out, and all you have to do to activate the charge is press the central button once the pointy things, you know, puncture the skin and stuff.”
Lucy smiled again, and I found myself thinking about how right Zee had been. There was something oddly endearing about Lucy’s earnest sweetness—and about the fact that she’d designed faux iPods that doubled as Tasers, “pointy things” and all.
“We’ll take two cars,” Chloe said. “Park them at least fourblocks away from Peyton, preferably in separate directions. We’ll rendezvous back here once the mission is over. Lucy, would I be correct in assuming that the Tasers have built-in communication devices?”
Lucy nodded. “In the headphones,” she said. “That’s why I picked the little iPod design—that and the fact that they come in colors.”
“Are they pink?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking the question.
“Nope.” Lucy punctuated her answer with a shake of her head. “They’re purple.”
“I’m driving,” Chloe said, not giving me the chance to mentally lament the color of my Taser. “Who else wants to drive?”
Before I could speak up, Lucy offered to drive, and Tara volunteered to ride with Chloe, shooting me a look that spoke volumes about the fact that I owed her one.
Five minutes later, I was in Lucy’s car, listening to her music and wondering if I’d have been better off taking my chances with Chloe’s manic driving.
“You don’t like Kelly Clarkson?” Lucy asked, wide eyed.
I didn’t answer.
“What about something old school?” she asked, eager to please.
“Old school? Like Cat Stevens? The Clash?”
“Weeelllllll …” Lucy dragged out the word and I read between the lines.
“You’re not talking about ‘old school’ as in *NSYNC, are you?” I asked suspiciously.
“Spice Girls?” Lucy suggested hopefully. “Or maybe Ashlee Simpson’s first album?”
“She has more than one album?” The thought was depressing.
“Or we could listen to the radio,” Lucy said. “Or we don’t have to listen to music at all. We could just talk.”
“Let’s talk.” Those were definitely words I never thought I’d say, especially to a fellow cheerleader, but I was getting used to the fact that all of my preconceptions about my life, my future, and my teammates were turning out to be wrong.
“What do you want to talk about?” Lucy asked, and then she let out a preemptive giggle. “Noah?”
“Not funny, Lucy,” I said.
Lucy just grinned. “He’s just so …”
