Chase is On

"But I don't want to live up to my name!" The girl leaned closer to the mirror and tried to dry-scrub a patch of dirt from the tip of her nose. "I like it calm, and beside that, my mother is going to kill me!"

"You're exaggerating, as usual."

"There are things worse than death and that is no exaggeration."

"Your mom's a good egg. And is a bit of an adventurer herself. You can't tell me she won't be interested when you tell her--"

"Tell her?! Now I know you've lost your mind." She turned from the mirror and put her hands on her hips. "No one can know about this," she said, wagging a finger to punctuate.

"You can't hide this. Look at your uniform! When that winds up in the laundry, you think she won't know you didn't have a normal school day?"

"I'll wash it myself."

"Oh, and that won't raise a bit of suspicion. Beth Chase, you wouldn't know how to run the washing machine and once you asked your mother how to do it, she'd be on to you."

"Then you do it! Here, I'll change into my gym clothes." Beth slid the suspenders off her shoulders and started unbuttoning her shirt.

"No!"

"What do you mean, no? Come on, Tara. Please. I'll owe you one. What do you want? Name it. Anything."

"I want you to promise right here, right now that we tell our parents what we found today."

"And you'll wash my uniform?"

"Why?"

"Deal was, I promise, you wash my clothes, remember? I don't want to die twice. Once for sneaking in to Old Man Carter's place (they'll never believe it was an accident) and another time for getting my uniform filthy. Again."

"Then promise."

"I promise we'll tell our parents. There. Are you happy? You're going to have me killed. Hand me my gym bag."