“Ugh,” Toby said as she nudged it to the center of the table, touching it with one finger. “Think how many decades of germs are probably on it.”

“Soda, napkins, the pun, cotton balls . . .”

“The bell, book, and candle,” Toby said, pointing, “The sample spoon . . . and I kind of know the Thriller dance . . .”

“How many points is that?” I asked, biting my lip as Palmer started the ten-second countdown.

“I’m adding,” she said, looking at me, and I could see she looked as worried as I felt. “How many do you guys have?” she asked, just as Palmer yelled, “Time!”

I let out a long breath, and Toby held up her hand for a high five. “Go team,” she said.

“Hey,” Clark said, reaching out his hand for mine. “Don’t be mad about the diner. It was all Tom’s idea.”

“It was,” Tom said as he circled the table, clearly trying to see how our pile stacked up to theirs.

“And my keys?” I asked, trying to stay mad but sensing that it was a losing battle.

“Oh, that was all me,” Clark said as I relented and took his hand, and he raised mine to his lips and gave it a quick kiss.

“Okay,” Palmer said, clapping her hands together and grinning at us. “How’d you guys do?” She looked around. “And where are Bri and Wyatt? They’re totally disqualified by now.”

“Who cares about them?” Tom asked. He straightened up from where he’d been counting our items. “Who won?”

“Just give me a second to tally,” Palmer said, pulling out her own copy of the list.

“You guys caught a firefly?” Toby asked, from where she was staring at the guys’ pile. “Seriously?”

“And that counts for three extra,” Tom said, walking over to his side of the table. “Something Alive, Something in a Jar, and Something that Lights Up.” I felt my heart sink as I looked over at Toby. It was looking more and more likely that the guys had won this.

“And . . . it’s a tie,” Palmer said, setting down her sheet of paper, eyebrows shooting up. “You both have eighty-four points. I’m not sure this has ever happened before.”

“Wait, what?” Tom asked, frowning down at Palmer’s paper. “How is that possible? I spent like ten dollars getting all the blue gum balls!”

“Well, we did waste a lot of time catching that firefly,” Clark pointed out, sliding his arm over my shoulder and pulling me in close to him.

“Rookie mistake,” Palmer said, shaking her head.

“Also, Carly thinks your name is Phil!” Toby said gleefully, apparently a believer in kicking someone while they were down.

“Congratulations to both teams,” Palmer said as she opened up the pizza boxes. “Who’s hungry?”

“But nobody won,” Toby said, frowning at the guys’ items, clearly counting them again silently.

“But Bri and Wyatt definitely lost,” Clark pointed out. “So there’s that.”

“Oh, right,” Toby said, brightening, as she grabbed a piece of pizza and a napkin.

“Honestly,” I said to Palmer, taking a cheese slice after checking that no other toppings had migrated onto it. “Was the pizza your way of getting us to bring dinner?”

Palmer shrugged. “I just know how hungry these things can make you,” she said, giving me a tiny wink.

We ended up pushing the items to the side and sitting around the picnic table, mostly hearing about Tom’s failed attempt to convince a notary to work after-hours. I was recounting the story of my dad suddenly going rogue and stealing spoons when headlights cut across the grass and a moment later I recognized Wyatt’s truck.

“Finally!” Palmer said, setting down her crust. She looked at her watch. “Do you think they thought they had three hours, not two? Are they really going to play that card?”

“I bet you they got them all, though,” Tom said despondently as he rolled the empty jar between his palms. “Just someone tell them that we really did have a firefly. Clark, we never should have set it free.”

Bri and Wyatt climbed out of the truck and I watched, expecting them to go around to the back and start unloading the bags of their stuff, come running up to the picnic table full-speed. But they just continued on toward us, walking a few feet apart, both of them empty-handed.

“Hey,” Toby called as they got closer. “Where have you guys been? And where’s all your stuff?”

“Car broke down when we were on the way to the diner,” Wyatt said, pushing his hair back with one hand. “I had to call Triple A and get a jump.”

“Yeah,” Bri said, shaking her head. “They took forever to get there too.”

“Are you okay?” Toby asked Bri, eyes wide. “Were you, like, stranded on the side of the highway? That’s how almost every serial killer movie starts.”

“We’re fine,” Wyatt said with a laugh. “Totally un-murdered.”

“So you weren’t able to get anything?” Palmer said, putting her hands in her back pockets and then taking them out again, a slight hurt tone to her voice that I almost never heard.

“We really wanted to,” Bri said quickly, looking at Palmer and then away again. “But . . .”