Michael Vey: Prisoner of Cell 25

Chapter 10: A Suspicious Coincidence

The end of the game was pretty exciting. Meridian was ahead by just one point with three seconds left on the clock when they fouled Cottonwood's best player, sending him to the line to shoot free throws. He must have been pretty nervous because he missed both of his shots badly-one of them by at least ten feet.

Everyone went wild. After the game Ostin and I walked down to the floor. Taylor was surrounded by a couple dozen friends, but she smiled when she saw me. "Ready to go?"

I nodded.

"Angel's dad is going to give us a ride to Maddie's."

"Me too?" Ostin asked.

"Of course."

The four of us walked out to the parking lot. Angel was a pretty Asian girl, and Ostin just stared at her until it was embarrassing.

Finally she stopped and turned to him. "What?"

"Ostin," he said, putting out his hand to shake.

She looked at his hand, then slowly put out her own. "I'm Angel."

"Are you Chinese or Japanese?"

Her brow furrowed. "Chinese."

"Were you born in China?"

"Yes."

He nodded. "What brought your parents to America? Opportunity? Freedom of speech?"

"My parents are American," she said. "I was adopted."

"Oh, you're adopted."

I wanted to smack him.

"Sorry, Angel," I said. "Ostin doesn't get out much."

"Hardly ever," he said.

She shook her head. "It's okay."

"And I think you're the prettiest girl in the world," Ostin blurted out.

"Enough," I said to him.

Angel smiled.

Maddie's home was the last on a long, tree-lined street called Walker Lane, where the rich kids in our school lived. I think her home could have fit our entire apartment building in it and still have had room for an indoor swimming pool, which, by the way, it had. It was the first party I'd been invited to since we moved to Idaho, unless you count Ostin's last birthday party, which was only me and his obnoxious cousin, Brent, who only came because his aunt made him. Brent broke a beaker in Ostin's new chemistry set within five minutes of Ostin opening the box. I thought Ostin would have a mental breakdown.

Angel's dad drove a nice car, a BMW with leather seats the texture and color of footballs. I knew it meant nothing to these kids to ride in a car like that, but I thought it was really cool. So did Ostin. He was grinning like a Cheshire cat, though it also may have been because he was sitting next to Angel. When Mr. Smith dropped us off, I said, "Thank you, sir."

He smiled. "It's nice to see that not everyone's lost their manners. You're welcome, son."

As we walked up to the house Taylor took my arm. "Well played."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Nothing," she said. "You're a real gentleman."

The stairway to the house was lined with little pointy trees growing in ceramic pots. I stopped at the door. I don't always notice my vocal tics, but I was gulping loud enough to get Taylor's attention.

Taylor looked at me. "You okay?"

I stopped gulping. "Yeah. I guess I'm just a little nervous."

"It's cool. Don't worry about it. We're just here to have fun."