Liar & Spy by Rebecca Stead Read Free Book Online

it.”
    “Oh. Dude—sorry. About that.”
    I raise my shoulders and drop them. “Stuff happens.”
    “Yeah. Your parents are still cool, though, right? So I bet it’ll be, you know, okay.”
    “You’re right,” I tell Jason. “It will be okay. It already is.”
    He nods and walks away.
    It’s hard to hate him, even though he kind of shrugged off our friendship like it was nothing, because I’ve been watching him all year, and underneath that skateboarder outfit, he’s the same person he always was. I don’t know whether that makes it harder or easier. I watch Jason tip his tray into the garbage. His bagel wrapper sticks, and he takes the time to peel it off before he adds his tray to the stack.
    After school, Bennie counts back my change and tells me, “I saw your friend today.”
    “Who?”
    “Candy.”
    “Oh,” I say, stuffing coins into my pocket. “She’s not my friend. She lives in my new building.”
    “One of my best customers!” Bennie calls after me.
    My key is somehow getting worse. To get the door open, I have to jiggle it in the lock and simultaneously pull the knob toward me as hard as I can. And the whole time I’m struggling, I can hear the phone ringing on the other side of the door.
    “Hello?”
    “Come up,” Safer says.

    Candy lets me in, and I follow her down the hallway, trying to memorize everything she’s wearing for when Safer quizzes me.
    She points at the living room, says, “He’s in there,” and then takes a left through the swinging door that leads to the kitchen. I hear her mom’s voice behind the door, and then Candy’s high one answering “Just Georges.” I notice there’s a pretty good smell in the apartment.
    Safer is on his knees with a pair of binoculars raised to his eyes, looking through one of the four big windows.
    “Overalls,” I tell him. “Purple T-shirt, blue socks.”
    “Sit.” He points an elbow at a green beanbag chair.
    “Three hair-clip thingies,” I say, plunking into the beanbag. “And some of those rubber-band bracelets.”
    “Okay, great. You can stop now.”
    “Who are you spying on?” I ask him. “Someone across the street?”
    He lowers the binoculars and stares at me. “You’re joking, right? If I were spying, I wouldn’t want to be seen, would I? And so pressing up against the window like this would be a pretty dumb idea, wouldn’t it?”
    “I guess so.”
    “I’m watching the birds.”
    “What birds?”
    He puts the binoculars on the windowsill, picks up his spiral notebook, and writes in it. When he’s done, he flips the notebook closed and looks at me. “You know about the parrots, right?”
    “What parrots?”
    “The wild parrots. Nesting over there.” He points to a building across the street. “See that air conditioner? With all the twigs stuffed underneath it? That’s the nest.”
    I squint at it. “They’re, like, real parrots? Where did they come from?”
    “Runaway pets, maybe. Or some people think they escaped from a crate at Kennedy Airport in the 1960s.”
    “Wow. I didn’t know parrots lived that long.”
    “ These birds didn’t escape—their grandparents or something, probably. They’ve been living over there for years. Pigeon used to watch them. He had this book where he wrote down all this stuff about them, like when they laid their eggs and when the babies hatched.” He looks down at his notebook. “I’m taking notes now, in case he wants them later. My mom says he went teen-crazy but it won’t last forever.”
    “That’s nice of you.”
    “No it isn’t. It’s probably just stupid.”
    Candy appears in the doorway. “Mom’s cooking and her hands are full of guck, but she says can Georges stay for dinner?” She looks at me. “Dad has to teach a last-minute lesson, so you might as well eat his food.”
    “Candy!” her mom’s voice calls out. “What kind of an invitation is that?”
    “Guck” doesn’t actually sound all that great, but I say, “Sure, maybe, let me