Mind Blind by Lari Don

27, round their greenhouse and into 25 and 23. Eventually we clambered over the railings onto Swan Road. We crouched on the pavement.
    He pulled his balaclava off and grinned at me. “Scared yet?”
    “That was fun!”
    “It’s even better if you’re being chased. So, which way to your grampa’s?”
    “Oh no. Now you follow me. Now I’m the boss.”

CHAPTER 13
Lucy Shaw, 30 th October
    Now I was the boss, I started running towards the town centre. I heard him whisper behind me, “Slow down…”
    But I kept running. Actually, I accelerated. It wasn’t my fault if he couldn’t keep up.
    Then he grabbed me.
    He yanked on my sleeve, swung me round and pushed me against the wall. Then he stepped away quickly, like I was toxic or something.
    “Slow down!”
    “Why? Am I going too fast for you?” Football training keeps me pretty fit. Maybe he really couldn’t keep up.
    “Running is too obvious. Witnesses remember people running. Walking is safer, so walk briskly. And from now on, please do exactly as I say, or you’ll get us both arrested.”
    Getting him arrested was entirely my plan, but not yet. So I walked. He stayed two steps behind, which suited me. We turned a few corners and crossed a few deserted streets, then as we walked under a streetlight, he stepped in front of me, walking backwards. He looked at me, my face, my hair, my clothes, then he frowned.
    I kept walking, straight at him, faster forwards than he was backwards. He sidestepped and started walking beside me. But not too close.
    “You look different.”
    “From when?” Had he been watching me? Stalking me?
    “From earlier. In the house. Your hair. It’s not as…” He paused.
    Yeah. My hair is getting a bit out of hand. It’s either turninginto a political statement, a 70s retro look or a thorn bush, depending on whether you’re my grampa, my friends or my mum. And when I get out of bed, it is wild.
    Now my hair was tied back, I must look different.
    He was still staring. “You look older. How old are you?”
    “Fourteen.”
    “Fourteen! You’re never fourteen!”
    “Yes, I am.”
    “Just turned fourteen?”
    “No, I’ve been fourteen since the summer. Since June.”
    He frowned again.
    Then I got it. “How old are
you
?”
    “Fourteen. As well.”
    “Uh huh. When were you fourteen?”
    He shrugged. “Last month.”
    “September! September the what?”
    “September the none of your business. You don’t want to know
anything
about me.”
    “Ha! I already know something. I already know I’m
older
than you!”
    “Not by much.”
    “By enough.”
    “I’m bigger though. Bigger, faster, stronger. And scarier.”
    We’d stopped walking. We were glaring at each other across the width of the pavement. Any minute now we’d be arm-wrestling or seeing who could spit further.
    “You’re not scarier! You should be scared of me. I’m the one you confessed to. I’m the one who can get you arrested.”
    “That’s why you should be scared of me, Lucy.”
    “I’m not scared of you,” I said firmly. I started walking again, towards the centre of Winslow, which isn’t the centre of much. But it’s got shops, a cinema, a library, a police station.
    I turned left and took us away from the centre again.
    “You’re doubling back, Lucy. Are you double-crossing me?”
    “I’m avoiding the police station.”
    “Ok, lead on.”
    Once I’d worked out a different route, I said, “My turn now.”
    “What?”
    “You’ve asked lots of questions. Now it’s my turn. What’s your name?”
    “I can’t tell you my
name
! I need to find what I’m looking for, then vanish.”
    “You said I could call the police and put them on your trail once you had your secret.”
    “You can try. But I run faster than any middle-aged policeman, and once I’m out of sight, if they don’t have my name, my date of birth or any other personal information, they’ll never find me.”
    “But what can I call you?”
    He raised his eyebrows. “You