Shannen tilted her head, like this was something she might consider. “No.”

“Oh, wait. I know where we’re going,” I said, feeling triumphant at having figured Shannen out. “We’re going to Coach Harrison’s house.” Shannen had been pissed at Coach Harrison ever since she quit her job at the high school to coach basketball at one of the state schools. Maybe it was redemption time.

“How does that make any sense?” Shannen asked.

“I guess it doesn’t,” I replied. But how did any of this make sense? Who would make sense as the recipient of my mom’s ugly-ass lawn jockey?

She slammed on the brakes at the stoplight at the bottom of the hill. An Orchard Hill police cruiser rolled past us, and I held my breath. The cop glanced up at Shannen and blinked, but he kept driving. The light turned green and we bucked forward.

“You’re really not going to tell us where—”

The words died in my mouth as Shannen turned right, the tires squealing, and raced past the sign for the Orchard View Condominiums. My question had just been answered. We were going to Ally Ryan’s house. A hard stone formed inside my gut. I looked over my shoulder at Hammond. He stared out the window, his nostrils flared.

“Welcome to the OVC, baby!” Trevor cackled.

“Shannen, what’re we doing?” I asked.

She squinted at the quaint street signs and made a sudden right, so late that she almost ran over the opposite curb. “It’s perfect. Mrs. Ryan bought this thing at an antiques auction for, like, a zillion dollars when we were in fourth grade. It was, like, her pride and joy. We’re just returning it to its rightful owner.”

No, you’re not. You’re taunting Ally. Reminding her that she no longer lives in the house she grew up in. That she no longer belongs. “I don’t know about this.”

“It’s just a prank,” Shannen said. “Why do you care? Do you like her or something?” She glanced over at me, flicking her bangs from her eyes like a challenge.

“No.” I stared straight ahead. “It’s just . . . isn’t this kind of, I don’t know, childish?”

“God. Lighten up,” Shannen said. “This is it.”

Shannen put the car in park, perpendicular to two other cars in their assigned spots, but kept the engine running. She jumped out and left the door yawning open as she popped the trunk. The Idiot Twins scrambled right out, already laughing under their breath. Jerks. I knew they liked Ally too, but they never said no to anything. Chloe hopped out of the backseat after them. She smoothed her skirt and opened the lens on her camera.

“Are you marys gonna help or what?” Shannen asked.

I looked back at Hammond again. Neither of us moved. I was surprised. This was the kind of jackassery he was normally totally up for. But then, so was I. And I hadn’t moved yet either.

“You can’t back out on us,” Shannen hissed. “We can’t move this thing on our own.”

“Shit,” Hammond said under his breath. He shoved his door open and got out. “Jake. Let’s go.”

I swallowed hard. I should just get out of the car and help them. If I didn’t, I’d never hear the end of it.

“What’s your problem?” Shannen asked, coming to my window. “What happened to Up the Stakes Jake? This is nothing compared with some of the crap we’ve pulled.”

The half-wits behind the car started to try to remove the ten-ton statue themselves. There was a bang and a tumble, and Todd let out a string of curses worthy of a New York cab driver stuck in traffic at the Puerto Rican Day Parade. Chloe shushed them and giggled. A flash popped.

I glanced up at the windows on the row of identical condos, wondering which was Ally’s. If she looked out right now, she would see this. All of us out here being juvenile delinquent losers.

“Jake? Hello? What’s the problem? You don’t even know the girl,” Shannen said. “What, she’s such an incredible backslapper you’ve developed some kind of soft spot for her?”

Sometimes every word out of Shannen’s mouth sounded like a judgment.

“No,” I said.

“Then let’s go already!” She yanked open my door and watched me expectantly.

Shannen was going to do this anyway, that much I knew. The best thing was to get it over with and get us all out of here as quickly as possible. Before Ally could see us. Before she could see I had anything to do with it. Before all her opinions of me could be confirmed.

“All right, all right,” I said. “Let’s do this.”

It took about thirty seconds of grunting and sweaty-handed shifting to deposit the lawn jockey on the small square of cement outside Ally’s front door. Right in front of the obviously new and obviously cheap welcome mat, which was decorated with happy strands of sunflowers. Next to it were two small pumpkins waiting to be carved. I felt like I was going to hurl.

“Remember how Ally’s dad used to have a whole truckload of pumpkins delivered to their house?” Chloe whispered. She was looking down at the pumpkins too, the camera hanging from a string around her wrist. She glanced at Shannen wistfully. “And we’d all come over to carve them the night before Halloween?”

Shannen rolled her eyes, but I could tell she wasn’t unaffected by the memory.

“Pumpkin gut fight!” Trevor and Todd shouted way too loudly.

“Dudes! Shut it!” Hammond whispered, which made them double over laughing.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Chloe asked.

Finally Do-the-Right-Thing Appleby had arrived.

“Chloe! Come on!” Shannen hissed. “This was practically your idea.”

“I just said I bet her mom misses the lawn jockey,” Chloe said, wide-eyed. “I didn’t mean we should bring it over here! I mean, look how sad it looks.”

We all stared down at the lawn jockey. It was so massive it took up almost the entire step. Suddenly a light flicked on overhead.

“Shit!” the Idiot Twins whispered in unison, and ran.

Chloe was right on their heels, carefully but quickly picking her way down the steps. Hammond, Shannen, and I froze.

“Let’s get out of here,” I hissed, my heart in my throat.

“Wait. There’s one more thing,” Shannen said. And she rang the doorbell.

“Dammit!”

Shannen laughed and sprinted for the car. Hammond launched himself face-first into the backseat. My gut stone was now choking all air supply as I fumbled with the handle and ducked inside. Shannen hit the gas and peeled out. Hammond kept repeating “shit, shit, shit” over and over and over again while Chloe hid her face in her hands and the Idiot Twins whooped and cheered. I told myself not to look back. That it was a huge mistake to look back. But I did anyway.

I looked back to find Ally Ryan’s stricken face staring after me.

ally

“Hey, guys! Thank you so much for coming!” Annie clutched my arm in one hand, David’s in the other. “I was worried there wouldn’t be anyone here!”

I glanced around the baseball field, which had been completely taken over by the Fall Festival. For the past two weeks—ever since that first “glitter Sunday”—David and I had spent a lot of our free time helping her with publicity and planning. We’d wheedled free ad space out of the local papers, decided not to put the hot chocolate stand right next to the popcorn stand because it would just cause stomachaches, and made several other crucial decisions involving pricing, portapotties, and decorations. The three of us had a lot of fun, and I’d thought that David and I had put in a ton of work, but now I realized that Annie had done a lot more. This event was huge. There were rides, game booths, food vendors, and even a few wandering jugglers, and it seemed like every kid from the Norm side of town was dropping cash in the hopes of winning lame prizes. The autumn sun shone down on the crowd, and a light breeze tossed colorful fallen leaves across our feet. Everywhere I looked there were the telltale decorations of fall: pumpkins, hay bales, bunches of Indian corn. Somewhere behind us, a bell tolled and a bunch of people cheered.