Shut Up And Kiss Me (gxg)

44. Tag, You're F*cked

        THE RULES TO THE GAME WERE simple.

       1. Whoever doesn't get tagged, or gets tagged least, wins.

       2. The only places that are off-limits are home, and school.

       3. If the person who is It touches you, or if you touch the person who is It, you are now It.

       4. You can't tag the person who tagged you for 1 (one) day.

       If I hadn't boasted about winning, I probably wouldn't be here right now. Huddled under my car on Valentine's Day. Breath coming in short pants. Fear pounding in my blood like adrenaline.

       My palms were flat against the concrete. I smelled gasoline. Burning rubber.

       Am I really risking my life for a game?

       Yes. Which was besides the point. Only an arm's distance away, there were two shoes. Black Converse, with scribbled blue stars. Cody.

       He was looking for me.

       Hunting me.

       My heart was wild in my chest. My fingertips scraped the rough gravel. I was cowering beneath my own car, because Cody Beckham wanted to surprise me. He was It.

       I couldn't get tagged.

       He thought I would be an easy target, huh?  I set my jaw. Well, I'll show him.

       No, I wouldn't.

       I had gotten a tip from Aaron. He had made a temporary alliance with me. And just a few minutes ago, I got a text message: HE'S GOING TO AMBUSH YOU WHILE YOU'RE CHANGING GAS.

       As soon as I'd seen Cody's car pulling into the station, I'd known Aaron was right. Before Cody could see me, I had ducked beneath my own car. And now I was laying flat beneath a soccer van, hoping that Cody wouldn't question the fact that my mom's car had been abandoned.

       "Talia," Cody said in a sing-song voice.

       Not fair, I thought. He was using a creepy, horror-movie tone. He knew that would terrify the fuck out of me, and it was.

       I bit my lip, hard, to stay quiet. His ankles were only a few inches away, so close I could reach out and wrap my hands around them. But that would involve touching him. And if I touched him, I'd be It. I couldn't be It.

       If there was anything I needed right now, it was a win. A real win.

       And I could win this. It had already been two weeks of February, and even though there fifteen attempts to grab me, I had somehow managed to remain uncaught. Aaron and Cody constantly revolved between being It, but Skylar and I hadn't been tagged. Yet.

       I had to outlast her. If I could outlast her, I would win.

       But Cody was so close. If he just crouched down, he'd see me vulnerable beneath my car. Flat on my stomach. Gasoline dripped, probably on my hair. Maybe even staining my clothes, and my favourite patchwork jean jacket. But this was worth it, whatever it cost. Victory.

      "Come out, come out, wherever you are . . ."

      My breathing quickened. How was this terrifying? It was broad daylight. But somehow, the thought of getting tagged . . . the thought of getting caught . . . no. No.