Page 18

*auntie bev*

“I ’M LEAVING,” I YELLED, grabbing my backpack and opening the front door.

“Okay,” my mom yelled back from her room. “Have fun! Love you!”

My stomach lurched as I lied to the woman who did everything for me, but it was for her own good.

I had to lie.

“Love you, too—bye!”

I stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door closed behind me. It was a warm, sunny Saturday morning; the perfect day for tossing fish in a hole to transfer some magic. The car in my driveway looked like some antique throwback from the eighties, and I could see that Jackson was in the front seat, sitting next to a sweet-looking little old lady.

Must be Auntie Bev.

He’d called her on our way home from school yesterday and basically begged her to drive us to the state park. And she hadn’t even hesitated or asked why. They’d been on speaker, and she’d immediately responded with, “Of course, dear, I’ll read a book at the marina for a few hours while you play.”

I didn’t have a big family, so maybe that was just how great-aunts were.

I did a double take as I reached for the back door, shocked to see Jackson’s blond hair. I’d gotten so used to the hat that I was surprised to see it.

I opened the door and climbed inside. “Hi.”

“Good morning, dear,” the woman said, looking at me in the rearview mirror. “Did you get a good night’s sleep? Are you ready for some fishing?”

I glanced at Jackson, who was turned around in his seat, giving me go-with-it eyes.

“I did,” I said, slamming the door and reaching for my seat belt. “And yes. Um, yes, I am ready for some fishing.”

“Oh, good,” she said, beaming at me. “We’re going to stop at Haverman’s so you can get some bait, and then we’ll be on our way.”

“Awesome,” I replied, grinning back at her. I kind of wanted to give this adorable stranger a hug. Nana Marie used to love shopping at Haverman’s, too, because they still had bag boys and a butcher who “knew his head from his butt when it came to beef.”

I swallowed down a pang of longing as I looked at Auntie Bev in the mirror.

Nana would’ve liked her.

I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t for the tiny woman who could barely see over the steering wheel to squeal out of the driveway like she was being chased. When she stopped to put the car in drive, she smiled at me in the mirror and said, “Sorry about that. Roberto’s a little touchy.”

“Who’s Ro—”

“The car,” Jackson interrupted, shaking his head like it was a whole thing as he put his hat on. “Roberto is her car.”

“And he’s going to lead us on an epic adventure today. Let’s go, kids!”

Auntie Bev stomped on the gas pedal, peeling rubber in front of my house as Roberto shot forward like a missile and started speeding down our street.

“Auntie Bev,” Jackson warned as the car flew over the pavement, “you can’t afford another ticket.”

“You’re right,” she replied in a happy little singsong voice. “But they only give you tickets when they see you. The fuzz is not speed-trapping your sleepy little suburban lane, so shut it.”

I grabbed onto the back of Jackson’s headrest as we flew down my street. I glanced out the window and saw Kennedy in her driveway. She was walking toward the car with her mom, and it was only a split second but our eyes met, and I knew she saw everything.

The high rate of speed, the elderly driver, the Jackson Matthews in the front seat.

Yeah—this was going to be tough to explain.

Especially when Auntie Bev mowed over a mailbox two houses down.

“Aunt—”

“Save it!” she yelled, her face all lit up with an enormous smile. “That thing was obviously too close to the road, not up to code, and it needed to be removed. Now keep your worries to yourself and hold on tight!”