Chapter 5: Umbrella

Reed gave my phone back every evening at six, with the timer already open on the screen.

I decided that was an accident.

By Wednesday lunch I had worked out how to beat a man who could only say numbers.

I sat down across from him at the cafeteria table, because the monitor was required to sit within ten feet of me, and I put my tray down very calmly.

Reed opened his folder and pretended I was a tray.

"Reed, is it raining?" I asked.

"Rule four."

"Is the soup any good?"

"Rule four."

"Do you like me?"

His fork stopped, a half inch above the salad.

"Rule four," Reed said.

I put both elbows on the table.

"Okay, here's a deal. If you say one sentence that isn't a rule, you owe me one honest answer. Any question I want."

He ate a cucumber slice.

"If you don't say no, that means yes."

Reed chewed.

"Great," I said. "I'm going to start calling that rule ten."

Down the table, three campers who had been listening very hard to nothing pressed their lips together so tightly they shook.

Reed looked up at them, and they all looked down.

I watched his eyes drop back to the page, and I watched the corner of his mouth think about something and put it back.

I thought, if I can get that to happen twice, I'm onto something.

By dinnertime I had tried nine different questions.

None of them were rules, and he had a rule number for every one.

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