Free The Breakers Code by Conner Kressley Page A

survived the move to Georgia.
         “Don’t throw that bacteria trap at me,” he swatted it down. “Besides, this is important.”
         I turned to the clock sitting beside the Kleenex on my nightstand. Three forty-three.
         “What’s so important that you thought it was a good idea to break into my house at four in the morning?” I scooted toward the center of the bed and folded my legs.
         “So we’re just gonna pretend I didn’t get a key made for the house too?”
         “Casper,” I growled. “It’s been a rough night.”
         “Okay, okay,” he plopped down on the bed next to me.
         “Easy,” I said. “You’re going to wake my mom.”
         Casper or not, if my mom found a guy in my bedroom in the dead of night, she’d kill me twice before I hit the ground.
         “So, I was in your car earlier, cause my dad is being an el grande super absorbent tampon, and I saw the black car pull up to Mrs. Goolsby’s. And Cress, this time I got a look at the guy as he walked inside. You’ll never guess who it was.”
         My heart skipped at least three beats as the name escaped from my lips.
         “Owen.”
         Casper’s face scrunched into a freckled question mark. “Okay, so maybe you would guess. Can you believe-“
         I grabbed Casper’s hand as I jumped up from my bed, pulling him up like a ragdoll.
         “Cress, what-“
         “We’re going,” I said flatly.
         “We’re going--to Disneyworld?” Casper asked hopefully as I yanked him down the stairs.
         This had been going on long enough. If Owen didn’t want to be with me, that was fine. But I WAS going to find out what was going on with him.
         “We’re going to Goolsby. “
         “Dude, I don’t wanna watch Owen bang old Mrs. Goolsby,” Casper whined, though he was quiet enough about it that I didn’t need to worry about waking Mom.
         “He’s not a prostitute,” I said, opening the door, pulling Casper through it, and closing it quietly behind me.
          At least, I hoped he wasn’t.
         As soon as we got outside, whatever gripe Casper had seemed to melt away, because he kept up with me pretty easily and I didn’t even have to pull him anymore. It wasn’t until we got outside and I felt the squish of the grass between my bare toes that I realized I was still in my night clothes; oversized flannel pajamas, Avengers t-shirt, and all. It didn’t matter how I looked, though. I could be wearing one of those barrels with the shoulder straps you always see on homeless guys in cartoons and I was still going through with this.
         “Cress, wait,” Casper said, but kept running alongside me. “Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, is it any of our business?”
    “It was our business just fine when you were spying on him,” I reminded him.
         We settled behind a row of bushes in Mr. Colburn’s yard, which was right across the street from Mrs. Goolsby and gave us a clear look at the black Sedan sitting in front of her house. It was four in the morning, which meant that most of Crestview’s farmers, Mr. Colburn included, were already up and at J’s General store where they were probably drinking coffee and talking about how great it is to be up at the butt-crack of dawn. And since Mr. Colburn lived by himself, at least we wouldn’t have to worry about anybody seeing us.
         “Yeah, but it was just fun and games then. What if-“
         “He might be in trouble Casper,” I turned to him. In the dark, his bright red hair shone like a beacon. “After I saw him get into the Sedan, I went by his house. There was no furniture, Cass. Like, none at all. And then, when he came over for dinner tonight-“
         “Dinner?” Casper balked, “Why didn’t I get an invite?”
         “Focus!” I thumped his freckly arm. He squirmed, rustling the bushes a little, but stopped