“You might need to break into the school to get it. Especially if it worries you that much to have it gone.”
Jacob snorted. “Matt, honestly. Do you know how much trouble I’d get in if I did that?”
He was sprawled across the couch in the living room Saturday morning, bouncing a rubber ball off the ceiling. Matt was on the couch opposite him, thumbing through a football magazine. He’d just gotten off the phone with his girlfriend, Sammy, and had listened to Jacob complain for five minutes about not having the journal with him.
“I’m just saying. I don’t think Mr. Coolidge’ll read it, but you never know. Besides, why are you so irritated by it now? You hardly mentioned it since he took it.”
“I haven’t exactly been sitting around doing nothing, you know.” In truth, Jacob had been so busy over the past couple of days he hadn’t even missed the journal. But now that he had time to read it, he wanted it. He shook his head. “If he did read it, he’d probably think I made it all up.”
“But what about the words appearing on the page as he reads? That’ll definitely get his attention.”
This hadn’t occurred to Jacob, and he sat up, feeling mortified. “Do you think he’d turn it over to someone?”
“Nah. It’s not his. He’ll give it back to you. He’s really good at keeping his word.” Matt jumped off the couch. “Let’s go shoot a few hoops. Loser cleans out the chicken coop.”
“Why do you volunteer yourself for things like that?”
Matt laughed, and they ran outside.
The first game only lasted two minutes.
“All right,” Jacob said. “Go clean the chicken coop.”
“Best out of three?”
Jacob shook his head, smiling. “You must really like humiliation.”
When Jacob won the second, then the third and fourth, too, Matt finally admitted defeat.
“Can I play?” Jacob’s dad asked, strolling off the porch. He loosened his tie and undid the top button of his white shirt.
Matt’s cell rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket. “I’m taking this—it’s Sammy.” Holding the phone to his ear, he jogged away.
Jacob’s dad took the ball and dribbled it. “How’s Mr. Coolidge treating you these days?” He tossed the ball through the net.
“The same,” Jacob said. “I should be getting the journal back on Monday. It’s so frustrating that he took it from me.”
“You don’t blame him for that, do you?” He handed the ball back to Jacob, who dropped it and sat on it.
“Not really. I mean, I shouldn’t have been reading in his class. It’s just that . . . I’m so bored there. And there’s this really annoying girl who always answers the questions—no one else gets to talk.”
Jacob’s dad smiled. “I can imagine.” He pushed Jacob off the ball. “Want to play a game of one-on-one? Cheer you up a bit?”
Jacob groaned in protest. “I’m already tired, Dad.”
“Oh, come on. You’re just afraid of losing.”
Jacob jumped up, a broad grin spreading across his face. “You might be better than Matt, but I’ll still win—even exhausted.”
He was right.
“Remember when I used to beat you?” Jacob’s dad asked after the game had ended, wiping sweat off his forehead.
“Yeah,” Jacob said, laughing. “That was years ago. Maybe someday I’ll let you do it again.”
His dad shook his head. “Nah—that wouldn’t feel right. Who wants a cop-out?” A serious expression crossed his face. “I’m proud of you, Jacob. You’re becoming a man—people can depend on you.”
Jacob looked down. “Thanks, Dad.”
Neither spoke for a moment, then his dad broke the silence. “How are things with the Makalos? You know, I’d give anything to be able to go with you.” A wistful expression flit across his features.
“I’m sure you could—they wouldn’t kick you out.”
His dad hesitated, a far-off look in his eye. Then he blinked a few times and glanced at Jacob. “I’ve got other things I need to tend to—business trips. I don’t really like the traveling, but it’s necessary.”
Jacob groaned. “You’re gone a lot lately. Both you and Mom. How much longer until they promote you or something?”
“That’s not what this is about—I wish I could tell you more.”
“Unless you’re hiding things from the IRS, it’s not like it’s a secret.”
His dad smiled, then picked up the ball from where it had fallen after the game. “I’m really good at my job—you’d be surprised at all the secrets I can keep.”
Jacob grinned. “Whatever.”
Dad studied Jacob’s face, all seriousness now. “Promise me that if you need my help in Eklaron, you’ll ask for it, okay?”
“All right, Dad. I promise.”
Kilenya Series Books 1, 2, and 3 Page 58