It was Jackie. “Hi! Can you meet me at Trembly Park in half an hour?”

“How did you get my number?” I sure couldn’t remember ever giving it to her. Though I would have if I’d thought of it.

“Oh, and bring the Code Red. See ya there!” Click.

I looked over at my desk, where sat the six-pack of Mountain Dew Code Red 20-oz bottles I’d bought on the way home the day before. I had no idea why I bought it. I don’t even drink the stuff.

But I’d go by Trembley Park on the way to school anyway. So I pocketed my phone, snagged the six-pack, and headed out the door—then paused and went back for the card. You never know.

Half an hour later, I was in the park, looking around. I didn’t see her. Maybe she wasn’t here yet.

Then someone tapped my shoulder, and I jumped and turned around. “Whoa!”

It was Jackie, smiling at me. “Hi! Thanks so much!” She took the Dew with one hand and handed over the exact amount it had cost, down to the penny, with the other. “Sometimes you just can’t get to the store yourself, y’know?”