Chapter 11

And then ta-da, on the other side we have Michael and Donald, who told everyone they were brothers. They aren’t. The only other yard or house I can see into belongs to the Rosens and their daughter Sparky, who is a dragon. She goes to my school, and she has a major crush on Jamison, but he’s mine. She has a slingshot and knows how to use it. In her spare time she teaches pit bulls and Rottweilers to behave—by staring at them until they cower. She’s about my age and has only given up trying to steal my girlfriends because I have quit trying to pretend I have any. She is the only person who knows I come up here at other times than putting up Christmas lights, though, as attested to by the number of marbles and ball bearings, her preferred ammo, in the roof gutter near me, and the occasional bruise when one hits me. Oh, did Jamison laugh at me the first time he saw bruises on my ass and I told him how they got there.