Free The Candy Shop War, Vol. 2: Arcade Catastrophe by Brandon Mull

sure nobody was eavesdropping. “Chris and Risa aren’t allowed to tell me. They just assure me it’s amazing. It better be. I’ve blown all my money on tickets.”
    “Only two jet slots left, right?” Nate asked.
    “I’ve gotten good at earning tickets,” Roman said. “I should have enough for one of them by tomorrow.”
    “Are other kids after stamps?” Nate wondered.
    “People are catching on,” Roman said. “You better hurry if you want one. The way you shoot a basketball, you could probably get there if you try.”
    “You want the third jet stamp,” Nate said. “Is anybody after the fourth?”
    “Nobody we care about,” Roman said. He glanced at Trevor and Summer. “Just don’t try to take both slots ahead of me. Chris and Risa would hate you for it, and so would I.”
    “We don’t want to beat you,” Nate said. “Besides, you’re too far along. We couldn’t catch up even if we went nonstop. But my friends might go after other stamps. Who knows?”
    “Hold on a second,” Roman said. “You’re wrecking my concentration. Let me finish up.”
    “Go ahead.”
    Nate watched as Roman lit up the buzzards and the train cars.
    “The vultures are tricky,” Roman said. “You have to pay attention to the differences, make sure you hit one of each. Hitting the same one four times doesn’t do it.”
    His last shot was at the train. Nothing lit up.
    “You missed?” Nate asked.
    “I’d already hit everything with the first nine,” Roman explained. He paused as if debating whether to say more. “Look, other people helped me, so I’ll help you. There are two bonus shots that are almost impossible. They aren’t marked. One is through the window of the engine. It’s worth a hundred tickets. I know it exists, because I’ve hit it twice. The other is a tiny star that shines behind the vultures for barely a second every two minutes. I’ve never hit it, but I saw Risa do it. You can only hit it while it’s lit. Supposedly if you hit all eight far targets plus the two bonus shots on a single turn, you get some kind of mega bonus.”
    “Has anyone done it?” Nate asked.
    “Nope.”
    “Then how do you know it’s possible?” Nate asked.
    “Chris found out somehow after he got his stamp,” Roman said. “He was the first person to earn one.”
    Nate glanced over his shoulder, taking in the assortment of games spaced around the floor. “What game gives the biggest payout?”
    “Shooting Stars,” Roman answered. “But playing is like buying a lottery ticket. The lights all move around in crazy patterns, and you have to get the ten red ones to line up in the middle by freezing them at the perfect time. They move too fast to win with skill. People get tickets off of it, but you’ll average more on games like basketball where skill makes a bigger difference. A lot of those redemption games are basically gambling for kids.”
    “Redemption games?”
    “The kind that pay out redeemable tickets. Arcade lingo. Look, I better get going.”
    “You’re not sticking around?” Nate asked.
    Roman shook his head. “I’ll come back in the morning when the high scores are reset. My parents don’t want me here, so I shouldn’t hang around all day. I have to be sneaky, make up excuses for where I’ve been. By the way, if you come in the morning, raise the records slowly. If you set the basketball record too high on the first try, we’ll all earn fewer tickets for the rest of the day. Beat the records little by little and you cash in more.”
    “You have this down to a science.”
    Roman chuckled. “It has sort of been my summer job.”
    “A summer job where you lose all your money.”
    Roman snorted. “Exactly. That stamp better be cool. Later.”
    He gathered his tickets and left.
    Summer walked up to Nate. “Good info. We could overhear most of it. I didn’t want to interrupt. He seemed willing to talk to you.”
    “I’m not sure how to read him,” Nate said. “He isn’t super