7
Elle and I slowly march up the steps to the brownstone. There are other kids all around, flowing past us in their rush to get to class. It’s like the pair of us are stones jutting out of a fast-moving river. Elle links her elbow with mine as we close in on the front door. Bands of worry tighten around my throat.
“Remember when we built that zip line over sixth avenue?” asks Elle.
“How could I forget?” Some of the tension loosens from my neck. Elle and I built that in the middle of the night. “We got three good runs in before someone called the cops on us.”
“Hey, what about the time we put hair remover in Alec’s shampoo bottle?”
“We got to call him Doctor Evil for two weeks before he figured out how to magic up a new hair. Good times.”
Elle bumps my hip with hers. “We own this town.
