I struggled to sit up but found myself flat as before, my head swimming.

“Bro, you OK? You’re looking kind of … green,” Mendez muttered, backing up. “Just let me know if you’re going to puke, all right? These boots are brand-new.”

I sighed and tried to make sense out of the muddle that was my head. My head felt five sizes too big, and when I reached up to gingerly feel along my hairline, where it hurt the most, I found a large lump.

Groaning, I tried sitting up again, slowly this time. Mendez backed up even further.

“Relax, Mendez, I’m not going to puke on your precious boots.”

“Jeez, nancy-boy, talk about waking up on the wrong side of the bed.”

“Yeah, well, last time I checked I’m not in my bed, I’m still in this stupid park. Where did Tom and Jodi go? And what do you mean by you think it worked?”

Mendez got that smug look on his face that I knew well (and positively abhorred).

“Our dumb R.A.’s good for something, Jordan. He overheard you and Tom discussing your ‘plan.’ He told me all about it.”