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quilts and curled up in on stormy nights. But I had to be careful not to stare too long, or things could get awkward.
    “Uh, sweetie?” Kathy asked.
    “Yeah, Kath?”
    “I’m up here,” she said, straightening her back and pouting her lips out at me.
    Oh, shit—busted. I had to smooth it over fast. “Sorry, Kath,” I shrugged. “I, uh, I get confused sometimes. Don’t be mad, though, okay? I don’t know any better—I’m just a kid.” I grinned so hard that my cheeks hurt.
    Kathy shook her head and laughed.

TWO
    Anybody who wasn’t still watching the Smurfs knew that Darren and the crew had been tagging just about everything within reach of hand, arm, ladder, or rope all summer. They hit bridges and underpasses, stores, billboards, offices, the high school, the police station, parked cars, kiddie pools left out overnight—nothing was safe. Sure, there had always been graffiti before, but this year it seemed worse, bigger, as if they’d suddenly realized that the only way they were ever gonna make a mark in this world was by wrecking other people’s stuff, whether those people deserved it or not. But the crew all lived by the reservoir, and unless they got caught in the act or were stupid enough to hide their kits under their beds, nothing ever happened to them. They were bored, had money, and plenty of time to spend it.
    I knew just where to find them.
    The town I lived in had only two claims to fame: the Circle and the mall. The Circle was one of the biggest traffic junctions in the state: it looped three different highways together, everybody knew it by name, and it was a major reference point whenever anybody gaveor got directions to anywhere within twenty-five miles of it. It was conveniently located, too, because it was right next to the mall. Or maybe it was the other way around. Whatever. The latter was “Central Jersey’s Largest Indoor Shopping Mall,” according to the billboards on the highways. I didn’t know if that was true or not, but the parking lot was about a mile across at its longest point, just to give you some idea of how the joint stacked up. Then again, it was the only mall I’d ever been to, so I was in no position to judge. But I was sure about one thing: like every other mall on the planet, it was a magnet for misdirected youth, so I aimed the Cruiser there.
    The arcade was in a small, one-story building of shops and offices right outside the main complex, at arm’s length from the real action, like the kids’ table at Thanksgiving. I parked around the corner, and Thrash and I decided he would take a position near the Cruiser, lay low, and watch the front, in case something went down and I needed backup. At the far rear corner of the mall parking lot there was a trail that ran through the woods to the reservoir, so we were close to the crew’s turf now, and we couldn’t be too careful.
    Inside, it was as dark as a boarded-up bomb shelter, and the cold, stiff air filled my snout with a paste of sugar, machine grease, and sweat. The A/C was cranked up high, and long rows of video screens flickered seductively through the dimness. I slapped the chill off the back of my neck, jammed my hands into my pockets, and stopped myself short. I wasn’t here to play games. I was here on business.
    Darren was a creature of habit—he always hogged the Defender machine in the far right corner. As soon as my eyes adjusted to the dark, I saw the back of his sun-damaged hair, yellow T-shirt, and blue-and-white Jams bouncing from side to side, dodging the alien invasion. I didn’t see any of the other crew members with him, so I slid up behind and watched as he tried to evade the fate an enemymissile was sending his way. He couldn’t do it. Then again, none of us could.
    “Hey, little dude, what’s up,” he said, slapping the fire-button to mount his counterattack.
    “Nothing.” I watched for a few minutes in silence, until a group of mutant landers surrounded his ship and ended his