8 Chapter 8

“Or was he maybe kind of fat, like—2rdquo;

“Don’t say it,” I warned.

Preston laughed. “You’re funny, and in no way fat. I hope to look as good as you in ten years.”

The difference in age was likely more than that. The guy was trying flattery now. I added a sneer to my glare.

“I was gonna say Santa. Was he fat, like Santa, Archie? Big, like the hoodie?”

“Um. I really don’t know.” Poor Archie started pulling on his fingers. “I don’t think anyone would push me on purpose. Most of the people who live here are nice, right, Justice?”

“That’s what I hear.” Preston took the question that wasn’t his to answer.

“How’d you get so muddy, Archie?”

“I fell in the mud. There’s a lot of mud from all the rain.”

Preston wrote that down, so I did, too, though I didn’t know why. “Did you fall in the mud when shoved?”