Dammit, Jack! You know I can’t read Spanish! I thought silently to myself, peeling the yellow post-it note from underneath the bus window. Seventh seat, right side. Just where his last clue said I would find it.

The “adventure” had begun early in the morning, when I found a cryptic stickie note clinging to my bathroom mirror. That had led me to my computer desk, where I found another note, directing me on to the subway, where I found another brightly colored post-it…

You get the idea.

I opened up my backpack and added this new clue to the sheaf of post-it notes I had been collecting all day. What had begun as a game was quickly growing tiring. I’d been back and forth across the city three times already.

But giving up would mean losing, and I am not the kind of girl who gives up a direct challenge. And Jack isn’t the kind of person who would let me forget giving up.

I take out my Spanish dictionary and translate his looping cursive script. I sigh.

On to the library, poetry section…