The Last Song by Nicholas Sparks Page A

games.”
    “Ashley told me I was as good as you are.”
    Scott snorted and pushed up from the table. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
    After standing in line for their food, Will and Scott moved to the condiment stand, where Scott drenched his burger in ketchup. It squeezed out the sides as Scott put the bun back on.
    “That’s disgusting,” Will commented.
    “So get this. There was this guy named Ray Kroc and he started this company called McDonald’s. Ever heard of it? Anyway, on his original hamburger—in many ways the original American hamburger, mind you—he insisted that ketchup be added. Which should tell you how important it is to the overall taste.”
    “Keep talking. You’re just so fascinating. I’m going to get something to drink.”
    “Get me a bottled water, will you?”
    As Will walked off, something white flashed by him, heading in Scott’s direction; Scott saw it, too, and instinctively lunged out of the way, dropping his cheeseburger in the process.
    “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Scott demanded, spinning around. On the ground lay a wadded-up box of French fries. Behind him, Teddy and Lance had their hands stuffed in their pockets. Marcus was standing between them, trying and failing to appear innocent.
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Marcus answered.
    “This!” Scott snarled, kicking the box back at them.
    It was the tone, Will would later think, that made everyone around them tense. Will felt the hair on his neck prickle at the palpable, almost physical dislocation of air and space, a tremor that promised violence.
    Violence that Marcus obviously wanted…
    As if he were baiting him.
    Will saw a father scoop up his son and move away, while Ashley and Cassie, back from the pier, froze on the outskirts. Off to the side, Will recognized Galadriel—she called herself Blaze these days—circling closer.
    Scott glared at them, his jaw clenching. “You know, I’m getting sick and tired of your crap.”
    “Whatcha gonna do?” Marcus smirked. “Shoot a bottle rocket at me?”
    That was all it took. As Scott took a sudden step forward, Will pushed his way frantically through the crowd, trying to reach his friend in time.
    Marcus didn’t move. Not good. Will knew he and his friends were capable of anything… and worst of all, they knew what Scott had done…
    But Scott, in a fury, didn’t seem to care. As Will surged forward, Teddy and Lance fanned out, drawing Scott into their midst. He tried to close the gap, but Scott was moving too quickly, and suddenly everything seemed to happen at once. Marcus took a half step backward as Teddy kicked over a stool, forcing Scott to jump out of the way. He slammed into a table, toppling it. Scott caught his balance and balled his hands into fists. Lance closed in from the side. As Will forced his way forward, gaining momentum, he vaguely heard the wailing sounds of a toddler. Breaking free of the crowd, he veered toward Lance when all at once a girl stepped forward into the fray.
    “Just stop!” the girl shouted, thrusting her arms out. “Knock it off! All of you!”
    Her voice was surprisingly loud and authoritative, enough to make Will stop in his tracks. Everyone else froze, and in the sudden silence, the cries of the toddler sounded shrill. The girl pivoted, glaring at each of the brawlers in turn, and as soon as Will saw the purple streak in her hair, he realized exactly where he’d seen her before. Only now she was wearing an oversize T-shirt with a fish on the front.
    “The fight’s over! There is no fight! Can’t you see this kid is hurt?”
    Challenging them to contradict her, she pushed her way between Scott and Marcus and stooped to the crying toddler, who had been knocked over in the commotion. He was three or four, and his shirt was pumpkin orange. When the girl spoke to him, her voice was soft, her smile reassuring.
    “Are you okay, sweetie? Where’s your mom? Let’s go find