Free The Winner's Game by Kevin Alan Milne Page A

doing?”
    â€œFine.”
    â€œHas Cade apologized yet?”
    â€œFor what?”
    Seriously? “Duh. For what he said out there on the beach.”
    It takes her a moment to think. Then she bobs her head indifferently. “He was telling the truth. I just didn’t want to hear it right then.” She pauses. “It’s just so…weird.”
    â€œWhat is?”
    â€œThe whole transplant thing. You know, about someone else dying. I try to block it out, because sometimes I’m not even sure I want someone else’s heart beating inside me.”
    I nod as though I understand, though I can’t even begin to understand how that must make her feel. “So what were you writing on the bed?”
    She grins. “I was watching you on the beach after we left.” There are two windows in the room; she points to the one on the wall facing the beach. Cade’s binoculars are resting on the sill. “You inspired me. Want to see?”
    Ann scoots over on her bed to make room. When I see what she’s drawn, I have to swallow. On the plywood above us is a misshapen, Sharpie-red heart, with a slightly larger heart traced around it.
    â€œA heart in a heart,” she says soberly, “because, like it or not, someone else’s heart might end up in me.”
    â€œMight?”
    â€œ Will, ” she corrects.
    â€œThat’s really cool, Ann. Are you going to make it bigger?”
    â€œYeah, but not tonight. I want to add one new heart for each day we’re here, kind of like rings on a tree. The heart will continue to grow each day until I get my new one.”
    â€œCool,” I say again, deeply impressed that I’ve somehow inspired her.
    She rolls her head on the pillow to look at me. “I still don’t like sharing a room with you.”
    â€œDitto.”
    â€œGood,” she says with a little chuckle. “Just wanted that to be clear.” Ann looks back up at the bed above us. With her finger, she traces around the outer ring of the heart. Then, out of the blue, she asks, “Do you think I’m boring?”
    The question catches me off guard. Of course I think she’s boring. Doesn’t everyone? “Umm…why do you ask?”
    â€œBecause of what you guys plastered on the car window for the whole world to see. You and Cade both think I’m lame, don’t you?”
    â€œHey, Cade wrote that one about the kissing.”
    â€œBut you do think I’m lame.”
    â€œNot all the time.”
    â€œWell, that’s a big fat yes,” she says, sounding more than a little dejected. “I am, aren’t I?”
    I keep my mouth shut, assuming that to be a rhetorical question.
    Ann lifts a finger and traces the heart once more, slower this time. “Maybe I can change,” she says firmly. Then, less sure, she whispers, “Maybe not.”

Chapter 9
Ann
    T HE SUN HASN’T yet peeked above the coastal range when Dad comes busting into our room asking if we want to go with him and Mom to Home Depot.
    I rub my eyes and check the clock on the wall. 7:20 a.m.
    â€œWhy so early?”
    â€œI’m heading back to Portland this evening, so I want to get a jump on the day. Your mom needs a few supplies—paint and stuff—so she can start sprucing this place up. Who wants to go with us?”
    Bree is above me on the top bunk. She yawns loudly, then rolls over. “Not me.”
    â€œMe neither,” I tell him, still squinting.
    â€œThat’s two strikes,” says Dad. Cade is standing behind him in the hallway. “How about you, son?”
    â€œStrike three,” Cade mumbles. “I’d rather stay here.”
    â€œI won’t force anyone. But we might be a while, so if you stay, there are a few rules. Ann, Bree, are you listening?” It takes several seconds, but he eventually gets Bree to roll back over and open her eyes. “Rule number one, no touching the ocean.