“Keep that thing away from me,” I say.
“You’re such a party pooper sometimes.” She pouts.
It’s been a good day. I’m glad Hannah played in the football game. It was fun to watch her run around the field with a football in her hand, making touchdowns. Now, if I can be that lucky Friday night.
Thursday night, we meet at Beckett’s house to decorate the Homecoming Court float for the parade. His uncle has a big flatbed trailer he’s letting us use. Somehow the four other senior girls, Bree, Melissa, Ella, and Missy, took it upon themselves to oversee the float. No one stopped them, but then no one cares about it as much as them. They assigned everyone either something to bring or something to make. They told Hannah to make a balloon arch. She and her mom watched several tutorials and then made this fantastic arch out of neon-colored balloons. They attached it to the backdrop after school since she has dance tonight. I was told to bring a string of lights. Bree and the other senior girls ignore me, and its heaven. I’m on cloud nine and couldn’t be happier. It’s been a great week. Monday, Hannah was nominated for Homecoming Queen, and then she dragged me to the janitor’s closet to make out. Tuesday was irritating because of Bree’s stupid posters, but the drama died down by lunch. Tuesday night was pure magic. I owe my mom big time for letting Hannah and me hang out alone. Wednesday was the powderpuff game. I had a hard time focusing on coaching because I wanted to stand and watch Hannah play. Watching her run around with the number 10 on her shirt made me wish we could have some more alone time. Now I just need tomorrow to go great. Sutherland University is coming to watch. I talked to their main recruiter Tuesday night, and he told me Coach Freeman, the head coach, was coming to see me play. I’m so nervous but super excited to meet him. I told my dad that the head coach was coming, and this school was high on my list. He didn’t give me his usual speech that they’re not as good as USC, so maybe that’s a good sign.
“Hey,” Ty says, walking up to me. He doesn’t have his usual happy-go-lucky smile.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, and I glance around for Jack.
“Jack came with me.”
“Okay, where is he?”
“I dropped him off down the street.” Ty nods to the road.
“Dude, what’s going on?”
“Just come with me. I need to find Beckett.” I’ve never seen Tyler this rattled before.
“He went in the house to find a long extension cord so that they can check the lights.” We find Beckett in his basement, rifling around his parent’s storage room.
“Hey, did Melissa send you down here? I just texted her and said I was still looking.” Beckett looks annoyed.
“No worries. Can we help search?” Ty asks.
I just stare at Tyler like he’s lost his mind. That or I’m losing mine because I don’t understand what he’s doing.
“No. I have one more box to go through. If it’s not in there, it’s lost,” Beckett says.
“Hey, when I was on my way here, I wasn’t paying attention, and I nicked the bumper of a beat-up-looking little yellow truck. A Toyota, I think. I got out of my car to talk to the guy and exchange insurance, but he took off. Do you know anyone with that make and model car that lives around here?”
Holy shit! Now I get it.
“Uh yeah, the Bergeson’s. It was probably Charlie. He’s fifteen and only has a learner’s permit. He’s not supposed to drive without a parent, but I see him driving that truck everywhere. He probably took off because he thought he’d get in trouble.”
“Got it,” Ty says, looking disappointed.
I’m not giving up that easily. “Does he have any siblings that go to Lake City?”
“Yeah, his brother Mason is our age, but it wouldn’t have been him. He drives a fancy orange Mustang.” Beckett pulls open a big blue tote. “Yes! Here it is. Come on, let’s go light this float up.”
When we come back outside, Jack is here. “Did you tell him?” he asks Ty.
Ty nods. “Yeah. Were you able to follow him?”
“Yep.” Jack pulls out a crumpled piece of paper. “3539 Dove Drive. But the kid who got out of the truck looked young, maybe fifteen or sixteen. I doubt he’s, our guy.”
Ty nods. “We asked Beckett. He confirmed it was a kid, Charlie Bergeson. He’s fifteen.”
“Dammit!” Jack swears.
“Beckett said he has a brother named Mason, who’s a senior. Do either of you know him?” Tyler asks us.
“I don’t,” I say.
“Mason Bergeron?” Jack confirms.
