Winston Chu vs. the Wingmeisters by Stacey Lee

Author:Stacey Lee [Lee, Stacey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Disney Hyperion
Published: 2024-01-10T00:00:00+00:00

“Don’t panic,” said Mav, but it was too late for that. In the city of no parking spots, I managed to nab one reserved for delivery drivers in front of a ramen shop.

“My parents are going to kill me,” wailed Bijal.

“Let me do the talking.” Cassa had always been the best at chatting up grown-ups, though since she wasn’t in the driver’s seat, I doubted she could deliver us from this calamity. I didn’t know what the penalty was for underage driving, but I knew what my mom was capable of. Layers of guilt. Heavy curfews. Russian math class, if she was really ticked off.

I rolled down the window, and Officer Peña, according to his name tag, took a good look at all of us.

“Good evening, Officer, we’re glad to see you,” Cassa said brightly. “Is there a problem?”

He ignored her and pointed at the joystick. “You’re still in drive, son. Put it in park.”

I moved the lever around until P showed up on the dashboard again. At least we knew what the P stood for now.

“How old are you?” The officer’s face had the roughened landscape of an Arizona desert.

I thought about lying, but what would be the point? Lying would just add years to my sentence. “I’m—”

“Actually, let me guess. I’m good at Guess My Age.” He scratched his dark buzz cut, which faded to gray on the sides. “Let me see . . .” He tented his fingers around his chin and looked at me from all angles. “Not quite thirteen. I’d say, twelve, and maybe . . . ten months?”

I gave a weak laugh. “Uh, right.” That was a pretty good guess.

Mav had twisted around and was whispering with the others. I caught the words Gay Way and games. The festive arcade with the Guess Your Age! challenge appeared in my head. Was it possible the cop was . . . ?

Officer Peña turned his sights on Mav next. “You’re a little tougher to guess. Your height says fourteen. But since you’re with this guy, I’m going to say thirteen and one month. Am I right?”

Mav tugged at his collar. “Yeah, that’s right.”

After correctly guessing Cassa’s, Monroe’s, and Bijal’s ages down to the month, Officer Peña thumped the doorframe twice. “That was fun. Okay, kids, don’t dunk and dive.” He returned to his car.

No one said anything as he backed out, then motored away.

“He was a Birdbrain,” whispered Bijal.

I filled my lungs with air, reveling in our narrow escape.

“He was really good at guessing our ages, though.” Cassa unscrewed a bottle and showed it to Monroe. “Water. You drink it.” She took a sip then passed it to him.

“Water,” Monroe repeated. He tried drinking but got most of it down his shirt.

“Wonder where Monroe’s brain is flying now,” said Bijal.

Cassa patted Monroe’s shirtfront with some tissues. “Part of his brain must still be in here, though. He can still talk and understand stuff.”

“And his body’s working, so his brainstem still works, which means it’s not an exact swap.

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