Chapter 87

“You can have it if you want,” Jason said, careless. “I see his ugly mug every day, don’t need it.”

“Yes,” Andy said quickly. He had a couple of printed-out cell phone selfie pictures of Scooter, but they were so grainy they were barely recognizable. “No takebacks.” He batted his eyelashes at Scooter. “I’m going to hang it right by my bed.”

Kat’s favorite color was black, she liked coffee crunch ice cream but preferred tea as her morning drink, and thought chicken nuggets were the most vile thing in existence, and apparently most of the time when she was yelling in Ukrainian, she was reciting recipes. She scowled hard at Scooter for telling everyone that, and Scooter laughed and pretended to use Andy as a shield.

“As long as we’re sharing,” Andy said, still laughing, “how come your nickname is Scooter if your real name is Winston Churchill Stahl? There’s no overlap there!”