“It only ever works with Rodney, though,” J.J. said, shaking his head.

“What?” Rodney said with a shrug. “I believe in one’s right to represent oneself at trial. It’s my favorite amendment.”

“You have a favorite amendment?” J.J. asked.

“You don’t?”

“Got it?” Danny asked, smiling at Brooke.

“Um . . .” She looked around at us, then at the backyard. “I’m not sure . . .”

“Got the flags,” Linnie said, jogging up to us. “They were both pretty dusty. When was the last time we played this?”

“It’s been a while,” I said as I watched Linnie shake them out.

One was a beautifully handmade triangular flag that read GRANT on it—my mother had drawn a strip about us playing CTF and a reader had given it to her at a Comic-Con years ago. The other flag was a small white towel that read ANDERSON GENERAL LIFE INSURANCE in blue letters that were mostly faded out. This towel was one of our house’s many mysteries, since my parents didn’t have Anderson General Life Insurance and were baffled as to how a promotional towel had ended up in our house. But since we’d been playing, it had always been our other flag, mostly because it had a loop at the top so you could put it on a stick.

It was one of the many things that had become completely irreplaceable simply because we’d been using it for capture the flag my whole life. I had hidden both flags in the games closet during the tag sale purge, terrified that while I was up at Linnie and Rodney’s, my parents would have found them and sold them to people who wouldn’t understand their importance. Because the Anderson General Life Insurance towel technically wasn’t worth anything—except for the fact that it was priceless. And where would we play CTF in the future?

“Did you want to change, Brooke?” Linnie asked, looking at her white dress. “I can let you borrow something.”

“I think I’ll sit this one out,” Brooke said, starting to back away.

“Oh, come on,” Danny said. “It’ll be fun, babe.”

“But . . .” Brooke shifted her weight from foot to foot.

“I thought you wanted to be here,” Danny said, a sigh somewhere in his voice.

“Okay,” Brooke said after a pause. “Sure.”

“Great,” Danny said, shooting her a quick smile. “So, here’s the rundown. Linnie’s going to throw the flags in the air to pick for teams, and you have to run to the one you want to be on—either Grant or Anderson General Life Insurance. And then the teams take the flags to their separate corners, and when we’re in place, we begin.”

“But if you’re in the no-man’s-zone when the game starts, then whoever tags you, you have to become part of their team,” I pointed out.

“Unless you get tagged back,” Rodney said, shaking his head, “before you get into jail. Then you can pick which team you want to be on, but you can’t change after that.”

“Basically, it’s easier just to make sure you’re on a side when the game begins,” Linnie said.

“But . . .” Brooke looked around at us like she was hoping for a more detailed explanation. “But I don’t . . .”

“It’s really more of a learn-as-you-go type game,” I said. I was tempted to suggest that she just sit out the first round and watch, but held it back.

J.J. nodded, patting her on the back in what I’m sure he thought was a comforting manner. “You’ll pick it up.”

“Ready?” Linnie asked, looking around at all of us, then grinned. “Go!” She threw the flags up in the air.

I raced toward Anderson General Life Insurance, mostly because J.J. had a weakness for the Grant flag. Sure enough, I was right—J.J. and Linnie ran for the Grant flag, while Danny and Rodney headed toward Anderson’s, and Brooke stayed in the same spot, looking around, increasingly unhappily.

“Yes!” Danny said, holding up his hand for high fives, which Rodney and I returned. “We got this, guys. We’re going to crush it.”

“I . . .” Brooke edged toward the house. “I think I’ll just . . .”

“Babe, you can’t bail now,” Danny said, starting to sound annoyed. “The teams’ll be uneven! You can be on Linnie’s team.”

“Yeah, come be on our team,” Linnie said, grinning at her. “It’s the best team. And this way, we have a medic if someone gets hurt!”

“Don’t worry,” Danny said with a wink as we started to head over to our side of the yard, “I’ll take it easy on you!”

“Also, everyone watch out for the tent posts,” Rodney reminded us.

Danny found a stick and we planted the flag, after some quick deliberation, just a few feet away from the greenhouse entrance that would be serving as our jail. “Think J.J.’s going to put their flag in a tree again? Remember when he did that for like a whole year?”

“Start in one minute,” Linnie called across the yard in a loud whisper that nonetheless carried.

I gave her a thumbs-up, and then Team Anderson General Life Insurance turned to face each other. “I call jailer,” Rodney said immediately, raising his hand. “Groom’s prerogative.”

“Okay,” Danny said, and he was smiling widely. “We ready to do this?”

“Here we go,” Linnie whisper-yelled across the yard, and I turned to see that they’d had the opposite idea we had—their flag was almost as far away from the jail (the trampoline) as possible. “Three . . . two . . . one . . . capture the flag!”

We all set off running as fast as possible. I headed straight into enemy territory, then dashed to the left to avoid J.J., who was coming right at me—it was always his strategy to try to get as many people in jail as possible to make flag stealing easier. Danny ran in the opposite direction from me, and it looked like Linnie was playing defense, not offense—she wasn’t moving toward our territory; she was going to guard her own. Brooke was standing still, just looking around at the rest of us in motion, like she was still waiting for a more detailed instruction list.

“Got it!” Danny yelled as he grabbed the Grant flag out of the ground and started to turn and run back to our base with it, only to have J.J. pivot from trying to get me to run full speed at him.

“Danny,” I yelled, breaking left to avoid Linnie, who was advancing toward me. “On your ten!” He turned but just a second too late, and J.J. tagged him.

“Get outta here,” he said, pointing to the trampoline.

“Is the game over?” Brooke asked hopefully.

“No,” Linnie said, stopping and turning to her, and I took this moment of distraction to run full out toward the trampoline.

Danny saw me coming and smiled, stretching his hand out as far as it would go while still keeping a foot touching the metal base (as had been decreed years ago by the rules). I slapped his hand and he grinned at me. “Thanks, Chuck.”

“I’ve got your back,” I called to him, but he was already running in the other direction, toward our base, trying to intercept J.J., who was barreling toward the flag. Which meant—I whirled around, ready to try to grab the Grant flag, only to see Linnie standing directly in front of me.

“You’re out,” she said, tapping me on the shoulder and pointing. “Trampoline. I call jailer,” she added to Brooke, who had now wandered a little farther from their base but still wasn’t making any move to try to grab our flag—which was woefully unguarded at the moment, as Danny chased J.J. and Rodney tried to box him in. “Doesn’t she realize she could grab it?” Linnie asked, shaking her head.

“Jailbreak!” I looked over, startled, to see Rodney running full out toward me, tagging me on the shoulder, then pivoting away.

“Thanks!” I yelled, sprinting away from the jail on Rodney’s heels. I decided to head back to our base for a bit, regroup, maybe play defense for a while. Just as I’d had this thought, though, J.J. started running in our direction, brandishing the Anderson General Life Insurance flag.

“No!” Rodney yelled, running after him, only to have J.J. pivot and change directions—running toward Brooke. Glancing behind her, she started running—directly into one of the tent posts. She tripped over it, her feet tangling, and she windmilled her arms for a second, trying to stay upright, before falling to the ground, hitting it hard. “God!” she yelled, trying to push herself up to standing, but then losing her footing and falling again.