"Hey, guys! Let's play chicken!" Jenny said, suddenly, a mischievious grin on her face. Oh boy. Bet I could guess what was going through her head rights now.
Chicken plus Newsies equals Jenny on Jack's shoulders
"What's Chicken?" Bumlets asked, before I could intervene. I glared at Jenny, but she inconspicuously looked away.
"It's where you've got four people, two on the others' shoulders, and the two on top try to knock each other down!"
There was a chorus of agreement at this new and exciting game. They played a few round, while I firmly did not play. I despise Chicken. I watched a few rounds, and then things got interesting.
"Why don't you play?" Jenny asked, grinning. I resisted the strong temptation to flick her off, and shook my head.
"I don't do—ACK!" I shrieked very girly-ish, as Kid Blink swam under me and lifted me on his shoulders. "Nu-uh! I am NOT playing Chicken!"
"Aw, c'mon, Tory! It'll be FUN!" Jenny said in that perky, cheerleader voice that I despise.
"Eh, Tory's just a chicken. (a/n: no pun intended) Five to one that Jenny skunks her!" Racetrack said. I glowered at him, then nodded at Jenny, who was smirking.
Fortunately, Jenny has no balance whatsoever. One good shove and she and Jack fell backwards.
"Beat that, Race!" I shouted in victory, grinning down at Kid. He laughed, and high-fived me.
By the time it got dark, we all dried off and huddled in Jenny's basement, watching The Count of Monte Cristo, one of my all-time favorite movies. I was next to Spot, and he fell asleep in the middle of the movie, his head in my lap, perfect position for me to play with his insanely silky hair.
I love my life.