Torched by April Henry

person.”
    “We’ve got to work with what we’ve got,” Richter told Ponytail. He turned to me. “We’ll get you something no one will notice and arrange another meeting.”
    A weight settled on my chest. I didn’t want to have any more meetings. I just wanted this to be over. But all I could do was nod.
    “So, what is it they call you again?” Richter asked.
    “Sky.”
    It was a pretty word, open and blue, made even more special by the fact that Coyote had chosen it for me.
    But now it tasted like ashes in my mouth.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
    Three days later, I climbed the worn wooden steps of Hawk’s sagging rental house in a rundown section of North Portland. As I did, I hit the record button on my watch—the little “gift” Richter had given me.
    The door flew open just as I pressed the button. I gasped. Hawk stood in the doorway. He looked at me with his bug eyes and a trace of what might have been a smile. It didn’t seem friendly.
    “Just leave your things here,” he said as I followed him inside into a hum of people laughing and talking in loud voices. There was already a pile of rain slickers, denim jackets and backpacks in the small foyer. Hawk turned into the kitchen, leaving me on my own.
    I dropped my backpack and shrugged out of my jacket, glad that I didn’t have to worry about anyone finding a recording device in either. After much discussion, the FBI had decided to give me the watch, with its special built-in recorder.
    “Here she is!” Jack Rabbit yelled when I walked into the living room. “Sky—one of the Hummer Three!” He led scattered applause, joined by Seed and Grizz.
    Blue raised an open bottle of wine. “Woo! Sky! Woo!”
    Even Cedar gave me a nod, which felt like high praise.
    But I only had eyes for Coyote, who was sitting on an old green upholstered chair with leaking seams. Just the sight of him made my breath catch. How many times had I longed to talk to him in the last few days? I felt so alone. There was no one I could tell the whole truth. Not even Marijean. We still walked home from school together, but we didn’t talk nearly as much as we used to. We walked, and she smoked. I had been, too, until she complained about my always mooching from her. Then it went back to just her smoking.
    Coyote scooted over and patted the space beside him. I picked my way between Liberty and Meadow and squeezed next to him. The length of my leg tingled where it pressed against his. Coyote rested his arm behind my shoulder, but I didn’t know if that was intentional or because it was the only place to put it. I thought of the nights we had spent on stake-out, talking about school, books, music, movies. Everything except whether he wanted to kiss me as badly as I wanted to kiss him.
    He had half turned to talk to Jack Rabbit, leaving me free to look at him. One corkscrew curl was wrapped around another, reminding me of the double helix of DNA—and of the D I had gotten on my science test last week. It was hard to concentrate when you were leading a double life.
    A shrill whistle cut through the room. Cedar took his fingers from between his lips. “Okay, people, settle down.”
    “Oh, come on, Cedar, let us have our fun!” Meadow said, waving the wine bottle.
    “Yeah,” Liberty said. “They did it, and they got away clean. Even the cops are saying the only evidence they’ve got is some white melted plastic.”
    “We deserve to celebrate!” Meadow took another sip of wine and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. Her face was unguarded, her eyes squeezed by her smile. She looked so happy that I found myself grinning back, forgetting for a minute that I was only pretending.
    Meadow continued, “The operation was pretty much flawless.” She looked at me, and I knew she was remembering the dropped lighter but choosing not to bring it up in front of everybody. “And now the whole world is listening!” Thanks to Google, we knew that Meadow’s communiqué had been picked up by media