Dee had taken a kung fu exam, and Jenny had gone to cheer her on. SummerвЂ™s fourteen-year-old schnauzer had finally had to be put to sleep, and Summer had needed Jenny for moral support. SheвЂ™d meant to rethink things, to come up with some other brilliant idea, but it had been one of those weeks. Nobody except polar bears swam in this kind of weather. Then three days ago the cold snap had come. The perfect setting for an outdoor barbecue. The temperature often hovered in the mid-seventies at night, and the Thornton pool glowed like a huge blue-green jewel in the backyard, giving off little wisps of steam from its surface. Jenny Thornton was known for her pool parties, and here in southern California late April was a perfectly reasonable time to have one. It was supposed to have been a pool party. Tom couldnвЂ™t be with her, since it was his party she was shopping for. Were those footsteps or just the sick thudding of her own heart?Д«ut of course that was the whole point. She turned toward Eastman and hugged the wall, tossing back her hair to listen. JennyвЂ™s neck prickled and her little fingers began to tingle. Behind her the looming bulk of the record store presented a blank wall to the street all the way down to the park. As soon as she was out of sight of Eastman Avenue, she stopped and stood as still as a deer, backpack swinging from her hand, eyes desperately scanning Montevideo for cover.Дirectly opposite her was a vacant lot and beside that a Thai restaurant, closed. Her eyebrows were straight, like two decisive brush strokes, and her forest-green eyes were dark as pine needles and even more serious than usual. She caught a glimpse of herself in one of them: a slender girl with hair that Michael had once said was the color of honey in sunlight. Back straight, stubbornly pretending she was perfectly calm, Jenny walked by the darkened windows. The Tower Records on the corner of Eastman and Montevideo was no longer in business. SheвЂ™d go right on Montevideo, and then sheвЂ™d find a store to duck into, a place to hide until the two guys had passed by. While youвЂ™re crossing they can catch up to you.ДЄll right, then, sheвЂ™d turn off before that, sheвЂ™d go right on this next street up here-what was it? Montevideo. You have to cross over at Joshua Street to get to the store-but that means crossing left, to their side of the street. The footsteps slowed.ДonвЂ™t look back, she told herself. From behind and to the left she heard the flat smack of running shoes and the clack of bootheels.

She slowed again, her feet in their lace-up canvas Tretorns making no sound on the dirty sidewalk. If only those two guys would turn off onto another street. Not at all the place to be at dusk-but it wasnвЂ™t dusk yet, Jenny told herself fiercely.

They were like bandaged eyes turned toward her. After the last riots the police had cleared things up, but many of the vandalized stores still had boarded windows, which gave Jenny a creeping feeling between her shoulder blades.

She hadnвЂ™t realized, though, that Eastman Avenue had gotten quite so rough. This wasnвЂ™t the best neighborhood in town, and sheвЂ™d come here specifically because she didnвЂ™t want any of her friends to see her. There were two of them, one dressed in a black T-shirt and leather vest, with a black bandanna on his head, the other in a long flannel shirt, black-and-blue plaid, unbuttoned. They matched their pace to hers when she slowed to pretend to look in a store window, they slowed, too. They were still behind her, on the other side of the street but definitely following.

The forbidden game read online