"You don't mind then?" I asked, hesitant again. "That I'm... all wrong for him? That I have... flesh?"
"No," she said thoughtfully. "You're what he wants. It will work out, somehow," she said, though her forehead was creased with worry, harder and deeper than I'd ever seen someone crease a worry. Another peal of thunder began.
Esme stopped then; apparently we'd reached the edge. It looked as if they'd formed teams. Fredward was way out in one corner next to one giant airplane, Carlisle stood between some other airplanes on a different part of the field, and Alice held in her hand one very small airplane, positioned on the spot that must have been the runway.
Emmett was swinging a Boeing 747 on his forearm; it whistled almost imperceptibly through the air. Jasper stood several feet behind him, pointing a laser-pointer up into the sky.
"All right," Esme called out in a clear voice, which I knew even Fredward would hear, as truly far out as he was. "Batter up!"
Alice stood straight, deceptively motionless. Her style seemed to be stealth rather than an intimidating windup. She held the Bumblebee II in both hands at her waist, and then, like the strike of a cobra, she squatted and sprung, throwing both arms and the plane up into the air, towards Jasper's laser. It crossed through, unchallenged, and fell back to the earth, Jasper running to catch it just in time.
"I don't think I understand this game," I whispered to Esme.
"If they don't hit it, she gets a point," she told me.
Jasper hurled the plane back to Alice's waiting hand. She permitted herself a brief grin. And then her hands spun out again.
This time, before I could even see it, Emmett's 747

370

Chapter 17

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