“And our side has a whole pan of Grandma Ellen's famous caramel fudge,” another boy stepped up to announce.
Both choices sounded like worthy prizes. “No sharing?”
The guys all chuckled, and a small kid with a bike spoke up, “No! We win it, we eat it.”
I nodded and grinned. “Sounds fair. I’ll make sure to remember that while eating the caramel fudge.”
Garrett, who had been silent, scoffed, “In your dreams, girly.”
Dallon stepped up and held out his hand. “Five dollars that my team will destroy yours.”
“Hey!” Aaron cried, offended.
I shifted. “I don’t have five dollars.”
“Doubt yourself already on winning?”
“No!” I shot back.
“Why don’t we do this?” Garrett suggested, stepping forward. “The dads are always talking about interest.”
“What's that?”
“You get five dollars from Emma at the end of the week, right?”
My eyes narrowed at him. “Yeah.”
“Well, then my brother will take that five dollars and also the next five dollars you get the next week. The extra money is because you made him wait a whole week for the first five dollars that he earned interest, and you pay him with your next allowance.”
“I don’t want to do that.” I turned to Seth. “You have money. Can I borrow a five from you?”
He grinned. “You’d have to pay interest.”
I glanced to Weston who shook his head.
My gaze shot to Aaron. He shrugged. “I like their idea.”
I glanced over to the new guy, Samuel. “You?”
He shook his head. “Sorry.”
I twisted my lips and turned back to Dallon. “Fine,” I shook his hand. “You have a deal.”
And, the summer games began. It wasn’t about the treats. It wasn’t about the money. It was about showing those boys what I was made of.
One day. That's how long the game lasted. One day to take them all out with water balloons, leaving no one to guard their precious flag for a whole day.
They never said when the games started in the morning. Every one of them from the other team walked out of their doors that morning to a balloon except for Dallon and Garrett.
When they went to go protect their flag, it was already in my hot little hand. “No one said how early it started. We win.”
Samuel leaned in and whispered to me, “You cheat.”
My cheeks reddened, and I shrugged. “No. I'd like to call it being proactive.”
Aaron, Weston, and Seth, or the Troublesome Three as I liked to call them, grinned. “That it is.”
***
"Now, you knead the bread just like so," Emma explained as she showed me how to make bread. "We want to get all the air out and let the yeast activate."
"Why?" I asked, curious. I’d never made bread before.
"Because yeast helps it to rise, honey."
"Then what?"
"We set it out and let it be. It will get twice the size as it is now." She leaned in and whispered like she was telling me a secret, "That's when you know it's done and ready to be put in the oven."
I smiled, my hands deep within the dough. I liked her. I liked the boys, too. Then, I frowned. I didn't want anything bad to happen to them. Maybe...maybe, if Emma knew, she could prepare. I paused and shot my gaze toward hers.
"What's the frown for, honey?" she asked when she noticed my change in mood.
"Do you know what happened to my family?"
Emma went stock still before she looked away and continue to knead her bread. "Yes, but why don't you tell me?"
"They died." She nodded, just listening. "And then, he took me away."
"Mr. Hanson? Your guardian?"
"Yes, but then he died, too."
She stopped kneading the dough and wrapped her arms around me. "I'm sorry, Melissa."
I wrap my arms around her and tilted my head up to her ear.
"They're not going to stop," I whispered. She pulled away. "It's not random. I know secrets."
She pulled all the way back, her doughy hands now resting on my shoulders, her eyes concerned. "What do you mean, Melissa?"
"My father was a spy. I know secrets."
Her eyes narrowed as she nodded soberly, but I could tell she didn't believe me. "And, why tell me this?"
"Because," I whispered. "It's not random."
"What," she asked slowly, "do you mean?"
"Uспорченный. Je suis la fille d'un espion. Watashi o shinjite kudasai."
Emma's face was shocked. "You can speak other languages?"
"Eight," I replied as her hands dropped from my shoulders.
"Eight?" I heard a voice from behind me. I turned to see all of them standing there. Weston, Aaron, Seth, Dallon, and Garrett.
"You speak eight languages?" Garrett pressed as he stepped closer. "Dallon and I only speak three. Quién eres," he asked in Spanish.
"Contaminado," I answered.
"No, you're not. You’re dulce petard."
I smiled a sad smile.
"Tainted?" Dallon asked, interrupting. "Why do you think you're tainted?"
"Boys!" Emma reprimanded, not understanding.
I looked to Dallon who was six years older than me and gave him an honest answer. "No soy pero todos ustedes son."
He took a step back. "What? Why?"
I looked at him sad. "Because I came here."
People came three days later, during the night, and by morning, I was gone.
15 years later. . .
"How do I get myself into these messes?" I mumbled as I climbed up the chimney shoot. It would have been fun if what awaited me down below wasn't my death.
"Rules, rules. I have to remember the rules."
Delicate Beauty Page 11