“That’s because it’s Russian. Do you speak Russian?” I ask.
“Why are we listening to Russian music?” he asks, like it’s the most absurd thing he’s ever heard.
“I kind of like it,” Estaine says.
“Thank you,” I say, smiling at him. “See, Estaine likes it.”
“He only likes it because you like it,” Uncle Matty says. “When I was a teenager, I would listen to Paula Abdul for hours if it meant hanging out with a girl I liked. Do you know how much I hate Paula Abdul?”
Jake laughs. “This one girl I dated loved Backstreet Boys. I still remember all the words to that one stupid song.”
“Wow, you guys are entertaining,” Brooks says.
I almost forgot that he was in the car.
Uh...
This is so weird.
“They make it their personal mission in life to drive me insane,” I say.
“Hey, it’s a hard job, but somebody has to do it,” Jake says.
I roll my eyes, but need a subject change. “Where are we going?”
“Baseball game,” Uncle Matty answers. “By the way, you get to be blonde for the day. Congratulations.”
“Blonde?” I ask.
Jake pulls something from a bag and hands it to me.
It’s a wig.
“Are you seriously?” I ask, holding it slightly away from me.
“Yep. Put it on.”
“And where does my hair go?” I ask, then look at the wig. “And why are there bangs? I’m going to look twelve. No, worse. I’m going to look like Hannah Montana. I am not putting this stupid thing on.”
“Put it on or we go back to campus,” Uncle Matty says.
“Why blonde?” I ask. “Why couldn’t it have been red?”
“What’s wrong with blonde hair?” Jake asks.
“I’m so white,” I say. “With the blonde hair, my pale skin and my blue eyes, I’m going to look albino. I don’t understand why I can’t just put a hat on, or something.”
“Fine,” Jake says, grabbing the wig back. “Put your hair in a bun or something, and put the hat on.”
He obviously knows nothing about hair.
You can’t wear a bun and a hat.
He hands me a blue cap that says Boston in red letters.
“I can’t put my hair up in this,” I say.
“Just don’t leave your hair hanging down,” he says. “Put it up whatever way you can.”
I roll my eyes, but do as he says.
“You guys look really familiar,” Brooks says beside me.
I can’t help it. I laugh hard when he says this.
“We followed you around last Saturday,” Jake says.
“Oh,” Brooks says, then looks at me. “You knew they were following us.”
I nod. “It was the only way they’d let me go with you.”
“I am kind of glad I didn’t know then,” he says. “That would’ve been awkward.”
“Tell me about it,” I say, remember how much I hated them listening to our conversation. “I’ve never been to a baseball game before. What are you supposed to do while they play?”
“You... watch them,” Uncle Matty says, eying me in the rearview mirror. “Phoenix Black, you are one strange girl.”
“Phoenix Black?” Brooks asks.
“You’ve been doing nothing but train me how to keep my identity secret, and then you tell him my last name,” I say. “You’d better not make me leave East Raven because you screwed up.”
“We’ve already wired Brooks,” Jake says.
“What does that mean?” Brooks asks.
“Basically, that every text, every phone call, every conversation is being monitored by the CIA,” I say.
“I’m wired too,” Estaine says to Brooks. “So don’t feel bad.”
“Phoenix has been monitored since last spring,” Uncle Matty says. “Just as a precaution.”
“They’ve made it incredibly difficult to get in touch with my crack dealer,” I say.
Estaine laughs.
Brooks doesn’t.
“She’s kidding,” Jake says. “She doesn’t actually do drugs.”
“Remember when I convinced your wife that I was on the run from the Mexican drug cartel?” I ask.
He laughs. “I still tease her about that. Your fake Spanish accent was terrible.”
“I don’t think she believed anything I told her after that,” I say.
“How did she not see through it to begin with?” Estaine asks. “You’re a terrible liar.”
“But, I am good at sarcasm,” I say.
“You’re usually only this sarcastic when you’re nervous,” Jake says, turning to look at me. “Oh. Right.”
I clear my throat awkwardly.
I kind of have a lot of reason to be nervous.
Who’s idea was it to invite Brooks and Estaine?
Oh, right.
It was Estaine’s idea.
I know he only did it because I’d cried. Why did I have to cry? I’m kind of regretting that now.
Brooks is safer without me. So is Estaine. But Estaine was already in this. I didn’t want to drag somebody else into it.
“Are we one hundred percent sure that today is safe?” I ask.
“Eh,” Jake says.
“You’re never one hundred percent safe,” Uncle Matty says. “But I’m not worried about today.”
“And what about Brooks and Estaine?” I ask.
“They know the risks,” Jake says.
“Do you?” I ask, looking at Estaine, then Brooks.
“You know I do,” Estaine says. “But I’m not worried. I trust your secret service guys.”