Chapter 16

Chapter 16 Amends amends (amends), n. Legal compensation (of money or other valuable assets) as a repair for loss, damage, or injury of any kind. In his whole life, Evan had never gone this long without eating. And the weirdest thing of all was that he wasn't even hungry anymore. Sometime around two o'clock on Saturday afternoon, his hunger had just disappeared. Like turning off a light switch. He felt empty and light and a little buzzy in his head. But not hungry. He hadn't even planned it. Yesterday, he'd come home and eaten his dinner, as usual. And then the sun went down and he thought about Adam and Paul,

and he wondered if they had started fasting and if they would make it all the way till tomorrow night. And then he wanted to see if he could do it. Go twenty-four hours without food. Just wanted to see what it was like, and if he had the strength to do it. And that got him thinking about the Day of Atonement. The less he ate, the more he thought, until here he was, sitting on his branch of the Climbing Tree, way up high with the leaves whispering to him and the birds pecking for their last snack of the day and late-afternoon shadows beginning to stretch across the yard. He began to think about his sins. And that was a hard thing to think about. Did he really have any sins? He didn't know. But there was one thing he did know. Right now, he felt lousy. And Evan knew that when he felt really bad, that usually meant he'd done something he regretted. Evan regretted that whole basketball game. He wished he hadn't played like that. He wished Megan hadn't seen him play like that. Or Jessie. Or anyone.

He wished he hadn't been such a jerk. The game kept playing over and over in his head, every perfect shot looping through his brain, and it made him feel sick. He was never going to know what had happened to that missing money, but crushing Scott on the basketball court wasn't going to change that. Evan climbed down from the tree and went into the house. Jessie was in the kitchen with a mixing bowl and a bunch of ingredients spread out on the countertop: flour, sugar, butter, and eggs. "What'cha makin'?" he asked as he walked through. "Your favorite. Chocolate chip." "Thanks," said Evan, grabbing his baseball hat from the front hall closet and heading for the door. "Where are you going?" asked Jessie. "Scott's." "No!" said Jessie. "Don't do that." "Quit worrying! Tell Mom where I went, okay?" Jessie followed him to the door. "And don't eat all the cookies before I get back," he shouted over his

shoulder. He didn't really have a plan. In the back of his mind he figured a handshake and at least one "I'm sorry" were somewhere in his future. Beyond that, he didn't know what would happen. Scott's house was a short bike ride away from Evan's, but his neighborhood was a world apart. The houses were huge and had fancy bushes planted in little groups and two-car attached garages and lawns that looked like they were edged with a razor blade. As Evan walked up the brick path to the front door, he noticed that the two large maple trees in the yard were beginning to turn. They would drop a lot of leaves next month, but Evan knew that Scott never had to rake because his family had a service that took care of the yard. When the front door opened, Evan wasn't surprised to see Scott standing there. Evan could hardly ever remember Scott's parents answering the door. He looked better than he had yesterday, that was

for sure. Cleaned up, no blood, and he was wearing jeans, which covered up his knees. But the look on his face was the same—a look of hatred. Pure hatred beamed right at Evan. "Hey," said Evan. "What?" said Scott. "What do you want?" Evan hadn't rehearsed what he was going to say, and now that he had Scott's angry face right in front of him, it was hard to come up with anything on the spot. He stood there for a minute, his mind a blank. What had he come here for? And then he said the only thing he could think of. "I wanted to see your new 20/20." That changed everything. Scott stopped scowling, and his arms loosened up. He waited just a second before saying, "Okay." Then he stepped back to let Evan through. That's how it had been, ever since they were little: Scott Spencer liked showing off his new toys. Evan followed Scott down the flight of stairs to the finished basement, which was a combination

playroom and family room. It was mostly the way that Evan remembered it: two couches, the computer desk, the file cabinet with the locked-up snacks, bins of toys and building things, sports equipment, the swinging chair that hung from the ceiling, an electronic keyboard, and a treadmill. The thing that caught his eye, though, was the new TV It was enormous, the biggest flat-screen plasma that Evan had ever seen in his whole life. "Wow!" said Evan. Scott smiled. "Yeah, my dad bought that a few weeks ago. Cool, huh?" Evan noticed the sleek white box hooked up to the TV "Is that the 20/20?" he asked. "Wow, it's so small." "Yeah, but watch what it can do." Scott handed him two thick gloves that looked like hockey gloves, except that they were white, and a pair of heavy, dark goggles that wrapped all the way around his head. Evan took off his baseball cap and put the gloves and goggles on, then Scott pushed a