We’re not supposed to race down the switchback, but most of the grown-ups look the other way when it’s the warden’s daughter who’s breaking the rules. No one ever races Piper, because she always wins… either fair and square or the other way. My mom says Piper is twelve going on eighteen and not a good eighteen either.

When Piper stops, she gives us her full movie star smile. “Hi.” She runs her hands through her hair and whispers to Annie.

We throw the ball a few times. Me whipping it hard and Annie gutlessly tossing it. She’s too upset to concentrate on what she’s doing.

The count bell rings like it does every hour on the hour to count the cons and make sure none have escaped. No one pays any attention. It’s like the gulls carping and complaining and the deep rumble of the foghorn. These are the sounds of Alcatraz -the ticking of our own island clock, I guess you could say.

“Hey… what’s going on with you two?” Piper asks, looking at me, then Annie, then me. “You aren’t insulting each other.”

“Nothing,” Annie and I answer in unison.

Piper looks back and forth between us again. “No, really.”

“Nothing is going on,” Annie says, louder this time.

Piper laughs. “Annie, you’re such a bad liar,” she says.

Piper is right. Annie is a terrible liar. It’s only been five minutes and Piper already knows something’s up. Of course, I’m not much better.

“Well stop it.” Piper shakes her finger at us. “Just, you know, kiss and make up.”

Annie snorts. “I’m not kissing him.” She throws the ball hard for once, her cheeks flushed. “That’s your job, Piper.”

“Are you kidding, I wouldn’t kiss Moose if you paid me a hundred dollars, a thousand dollars, a million… ” Piper says as she skates by me.