Dreamtreaders by Wayne Thomas Batson

Author:Wayne Thomas Batson
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: ebook
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
Published: 2014-02-01T05:00:00+00:00

On the way out of Chemistry, Rigby Thames slid up close to Archer. “Oi, Keaton,” he said. “Bravo to you for challenging me. Better than most of the gutless wonders in there.”

“You’ll probably kill me,” Archer mumbled. He hadn’t expected any kind of approval from Rigby.

“Maybe,” Rigby said. “I do have advantages. I went to GIFT. And I had a semicrazy master chemist for an uncle. But you never know . . . underdogs are often fierce opponents. You seem like that type too.”

“Uh, thanks,” Archer said. “I guess.”

“So . . . what say we make this so-called Battle of the Brains a bit more interesting?” Rigby said, his voice friendly and eager.

“What do you mean?”

“A little wager,” he said. “Fancy that?”

“I don’t gamble,” Archer said.

“No, no,” he said. “Nothing like that. I had something in mind though. You have any chores you hate? I know I do. We have . . . er . . . quite a few pets. Feeding them and cleaning their cages is right vulgar, it is. Let’s say, if I win, you come over to my place, do that chore for me . . . for a week.”

“I dunno,” Archer said.

“Surely you’ve got some business your folks make you do, but you can’t stand it.”

One popped instantly to Archer’s mind. Ever since his mom died, there’d been a ton of new work for all of the kids. But one stood out as particularly hated. “Well, maybe . . .”

“That’s the spirit. What is it?”

“It’s laundry. I do the whole family’s laundry.”

“You don’t play around, do you?” Rigby said. “Right, then. You win, I’ll do laundry at your place for a week. I win, you’ve got my pet duty.”

“But not on Sundays,” Archer said. “We go to church on Sundays.”

“Church . . . how quaint.” Rigby rolled his eyes. “Ah, to each their own.” He held out his hand.

Remembering Bezeal, Archer hesitated for a moment. Stupid, he thought. Rigby’s not making a blood pact here. The two shook.

“Done and done!” Rigby started to walk away.

“Oh, hey,” Archer called, but Rigby held up a hand. He reached for his holster, yanked out his cell phone, and put it to his ear.

“What are you calling me at school for?” Rigby asked.

Archer had no earthly guess as to who might be on the other side of that call, but the way Rigby said the word you was nothing short of venomous.

Rigby turned sideways to Archer and walked away. Not meaning to eavesdrop, Archer couldn’t help but hear a little more of Rigby’s end of the conversation.

“. . . told you it’s going to cost a lot of money up front. Right, right. No . . . you don’t seem to understand. There’s nothing else . . .”

That was it. Archer heard nothing more. A few moments later, just before Archer disappeared into the gym, Kara caught up to him.

“Are you crazy, Archer?” she said. “Rigby will have you for lunch.”

“Thanks,” Archer said. “That’s nice.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” he said.

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