“Yeah. Let’s take a selfie!” Doug got up and stood next to Reagan. She held her phone up, smiled, clicked the picture, and then they both sat down.

She whispered to me. “I just got that picture of Wiley for you.”

“How’d you know?”

She grinned. “I’m sneaky. It’s a gift. I think it may come in handy in middle school. What do you think?” She turned her phone around for me to see it. And there, right in the middle of the screen, was Wiley Overton’s mug, enlarged to fit the whole screen, clear as day.

After lunch, I texted the picture to Zoe.

This guy look familiar???

I got a text back immediately.

It’s him! The sack of potatoes!

I almost dropped my phone. Just as I thought. I could barely keep my hands still enough to text back.

He’s at my school.

All she texted back was . . .

Uh-oh.

Chapter 18
Bye, Bye, Doug

That night, Doug and I sat around studying chapter one in our math books.

“I don’t know, Arcade, this stuff looks hard. And now I’m supposed to worry about filling in the right bubbles? Maybe we should ditch the studying and go feed Flames.”

I sat staring at the computer scan sheet, replaying Mr. Dooley’s words over and over in my head:

“ALWAYS PAY ATTENTION WHEN YOU ARE BEING TESTED.”

The Triple T Token heated up a little, and I pulled my shirt away from my chest to check it out.

“What?”

“I said, maybe we should ditch this and go feed Flames.”

I looked up at Doug. “Huh? Oh, I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to this . . . this . . . token. Whenever it sparks, it puts me on edge.”

“Tell me about it! We’ve been on a ton of edges! Why do edges always lead to huge drop offs?”

“They don’t. You just notice those more.”

“Nah. ALL edges are dangerous.”

Doug’s phone rang. He took a deep breath. “An unrecognized number. Here we go . . .” He put it on speaker. “Hello?”

“Hello, is this Doug?”

“Doug?”

“Yes, Doug. Doug Baker.”

“I’m Doug Baker.”

The woman on the other end of the phone sighed. “Oh, good. Hi, Doug. My name is Charlotte Schmidt. We talked a couple of weeks ago.”

Silence.

“I’m your social worker. I’d like to come see you tomorrow.”

Doug’s fingers started to tremble, and he dropped his phone on his blow-up mattress. “Tomorrow? That’s not necessary. I’m not in any hurry.”

“But I have great news! Your Aunt Tianna is excited for you to come and live with her.”

Doug shot up on his feet. “Aunt Tianna?”

“Mmmm-hmmm. Your mom’s sister.”

Doug made a face like he just chewed a lemon. Then he looked at me and mouthed the words SHE’S AWFUL.

“Aw, no. I’ll pass. Who else you got?”