P.S. I Still Love You(69)

“So you do have me!” He lets out a groan. “I don’t want to play this game anymore. It’s making me lonely and really . . . frustrated. I haven’t seen you outside of school for a week! When is this going to be over?”

“Peter, I don’t have you. I have John.” I feel a little guilty for lying, but this is how winners play this game. You can’t second-guess yourself.

There’s a silence on the other end. Then he says, “So are you going to drive over to his house to tag him out? He lives in the middle of nowhere. I could take you if you want.”

“I haven’t figured out my game plan yet,” I say. “Who do you have?” I know it has to be me or Genevieve.

He gets quiet. “I’m not saying.”

“Well, have you told anyone else?” Like, say, Genevieve?

“No.”

Hmm. “Okay, well, I just told you, so you obviously owe me that same courtesy.”

Peter bursts out, “I didn’t make you, you offered up that information yourself, and look, if it was a lie and you have me, please just freaking take me out already! I’m begging you. Come to my house right now, and I’ll let you sneak up to my room. I’ll be a sitting duck for you if it means I can see you again.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No, I don’t want to win like that. When I get your name, I want to have the satisfaction of knowing I beat you fair and square. My first ever Assassins win can’t be tainted.” I pause. “And besides, your house is a safe zone.”

Peter lets out an aggravated sigh. “Are you at least coming to my lacrosse game on Friday?”

His lacrosse game! That’s the perfect place to take him out. I try to keep my voice calm and even as I say, “I can’t come. My dad has a date, and he needs me to watch Kitty.” A lie, but Peter doesn’t know that.

“Well, can’t you bring her? She’s been asking to go to one of my games.”

I think fast. “No, because she has a piano lesson after school.”

“Since when does Kitty play the piano?”

“Recently, in fact. She heard from our neighbor that it helps with training puppies; it calms them down.” I bite my lip. Will he buy it? I hurry to add, “I promise I’ll be at the next game no matter what.”

Peter groans, this time even louder. “You’re killing me, Covey.”

Soon, my dear Peter.

I will surprise him at the game; I’ll get all decked out in our school colors; I’ll even paint his jersey number on my face. He’ll be so happy to see me, he won’t suspect a thing!

I can’t fully explain why this game of Assassins is so important to me. I only know that with each passing day I want it more and more—the win. I want to beat Genevieve, yes, but it’s more than that. Maybe it’s to prove that I’ve changed too: I’m not a soft little marshmallow; I’ve got some fight in me.

After Peter and I hang up, I text John my idea, and he offers to drive me to the game. It’s at his school. I ask if he’s sure he doesn’t mind coming all the way to get me, and he says it’ll be worth it to see Kavinsky get taken down. I’m relieved, because the last thing I need is to get lost on the way there.



After school on Friday, I rush home to get ready. I change into school colors—light blue T-shirt, white shorts, white and light blue striped knee socks, a blue ribbon in my hair. I paint a big 15 on my cheek and outline it with white eyeliner.

I run outside as soon as John pulls into our driveway. He’s wearing his faded old Orioles baseball cap, pulled down low. He eyes me as I climb inside.

Smiling, John says, “You look like a rally girl.”

I tap him on the bill of his hat. “You used to wear this, like, every day that one summer.”

As he backs out of our driveway, John grins like he has a secret. It’s contagious. Now I’m smiling too, and I don’t even know why. “What? Why are you smiling?” I ask, pulling up my knee socks.

“Nothing,” he says.

I jab him in the side. “Come on!”

“My mom gave me a really bad haircut at the beginning of summer, and I was embarrassed. I never let my mom cut my hair again after that.” He checks the time on the dashboard. “What time did you say the game started? Five?”

“Yup!” I’m practically bouncing up and down in my seat I’m so excited. Peter will be proud of me for pulling this off, I know he will.