“Thank you!” I said, but David didn’t seem to hear me. He was running a shaking hand over his paper-white face and mumbling to himself.

“Buckle up!” I shouted.

That he heard. I buckled my seat belt, too, and then looked over at him as the trees got closer and closer.

“Why are you smiling?” he shouted, terror all over his face.

I was smiling? I could see my reflection in his glasses, and he was right. I was smiling kind of big, actually. And then I realized why. Because even though this was scary and dangerous and so, so illegal . . .

It was fun. I felt in my element and in charge. I’m always happiest when I’m excelling at something, and, to quote one of those World of Warcraft websites I’d stumbled onto, these bad guys were about to get pwned.

The smile turned into a laugh as I gripped the steering wheel tight in my left hand and reached down with my right.

“I’ve always wanted to do this!” I shouted.

The end of the street was only a few dozen yards away. The black car was right behind us.

I pushed down as hard as I could with both feet on the brake pedal, and at the same time, I jerked the emergency brake up and spun the car hard to the left.

And it worked! Okay, so it wasn’t a total success. The black car was so close to us that it hit us as we spun, crunching in the back door on my side. David gave a low groan, but whether that was for his car or the fact that we had been literally seconds from death, I wasn’t sure.

The rear of the car fishtailed, taking out at least three mailboxes as I righted the Dodge and sped off in the opposite direction, back toward the Grove. I had an idea.

I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the black car had done a similar spin and was now following us again, although we had a much bigger lead this time.

It wasn’t going to last long, though. I could see sparks shooting up from the rear tire. It had probably gotten crunched along with the back door. The Dodge also seemed to have trouble shifting into fifth gear, and I heard a grinding sound that couldn’t be good. I only hoped I had enough time . . .

We shot down the street, the car wobbling now and much harder to control. We passed one house where a woman in a flowery shirt and hot pink capri pants dropped her garden hose and stared at us in openmouthed shock. I cringed. Mrs. Harris, who was in the Junior League with my mom. I really hoped she hadn’t recognized me.

We passed the Grove, and I was super thankful there was no one loitering outside the gates.