Free Nothing Special by Geoff Herbach

phone. And, suddenly, I was sure the loop started over and the same tapping and conversations were going on again.
    â€œHoly crap!” I shouted.
    â€œWhat is your problem, Felton?” Jerri hissed at me.
    â€œShh.” I pointed at her. “Andrew,” I shouted at the speaker. “Can we talk to one of your friends?”
    There was a long pause.
    Then Andrew asked, “Um. What?”
    â€œYour new orchestra friends. Let’s have a chat!”
    â€œWhat are you doing, Felton?” Jerri asked, her face all scrunched up, her neck popped at a weird angle.
    â€œWhy would you want to talk to my friends?” Andrew asked.
    â€œI don’t know. Just for fun. Who’s talking in the background?”
    â€œUm. Tovi,” Andrew said.
    â€œWho?”
    â€œMy new friend, Tovi. She’s really cream of the crop. Another really great percussionist.”
    â€œWhere’s she from?”
    â€œWell. Milwaukee. Right, Tovi?”
    A girl’s voice sounded from the back. “Yeah,” she said tentatively. “Milwaukee?”
    â€œReally? What school?” I asked. I knew schools in Milwaukee from track and football.
    â€œSouth!” this Tovi shouted.
    â€œSouth?” I’d never heard of Milwaukee South High School. “South? Milwaukee South?” So many schools are south, west, north, east. Right, good bet, fake friend! But I had never heard of such a school in Milwaukee!
    Andrew jumped in. “South Milwaukee. South Division High School.”
    â€œRight,” the girl said. “South Milwaukee. South Division.”
    Then Jerri said, “Great! Sounds like you’re having a good time. When’s the performance?”
    â€œUh. Five weeks from Saturday, I think,” Andrew said.
    â€œMind if Felton and I come?” Jerri asked.
    â€œI don’t know. We’ll find out. I’ll ask,” Andrew said.
    â€œSouth Division High School?” I asked.
    â€œThe brochure said the final performance is open to the public!” Jerri sang.
    â€œOkay, well, we have to get going. Night rehearsals are pretty serious.”
    â€œI know people in Milwaukee, Tovi!” I shouted.
    â€œOkay. Bye?” the girl replied.
    â€œRight. Talk to you soon,” Andrew said and hung up.
    â€œShe sounds nice,” Jerri said.
    â€œOh my God! They just looked up a Milwaukee school on the Internet while we were talking. Something’s going on, Jerri. He’s not at orchestra camp. No way.”
    â€œ What? ” Jerri shouted.
    â€œI’m serious!”
    â€œWhat?” Jerri laughed.
    â€œReally, Jerri. He’s somewhere. He’s not there.”
    â€œFelton.” Jerri shook her head.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œCrazy,” Jerri nodded.
    â€œNo!”
    â€œReally, really crazy,” Jerri nodded.
    â€œWhy would you trust Andrew? There is mounting evidence!”
    â€œEvidence? Of what?”
    â€œI don’t know. Of him not really being at the camp?”
    â€œUh-huh. Really?” Jerri was totally sarcastic.
    â€œYes,” I said. I didn’t want to mention drunken Emily.
    â€œGood Lord, Felton. Chill, kid. I signed the camp permission slip. I received confirmation of payment from this camp. Where would he be, if not…”
    â€œGrandma Berba paid for the camp!”
    â€œSo?”
    â€œDid she send the camp the money, or did she send it to Andrew?”
    â€œThe camp sent a paid-in-full receipt here.”
    â€œOh.”
    â€œAnd I received detailed instructions about where, when, how this whole thing would happen. Wouldn’t the camp call me if Andrew didn’t show up?”
    I paused for a moment on that. Uh-huh. Logic. “Good point,” I said.
    â€œAndrew’s at camp, Felton. I don’t get this at all. You’re crazy. Are you weirded out about Michigan? You’ll be fine.”
    â€œNo, I’m not worried about Michigan.”