“Maybe he just wants to hang out?” I whispered.
“It could be about your you-know-what,” Trinity whispered back.
“I hope not,” I said glumly.
We were interrupted when our friend, Claire Bennett, hissed from my left side for us to stop talking about things that weren't as important as guessing a letter before stick-figure man grew a head and kicked the bucket. I groaned, guessed an “h,” and saw stick-figure man grow a head and kick the bucket. Claire crowed with triumph and told our friend, Andy, it was his turn to guess.
Trinity and I had met both of them during summer camp when we were all ten years old. Unlike the other kids who went outside and played games with each other, the four of us had been too shy to participate in such social activities and instead locked ourselves in a cabi
