“Swop yer,” Brendon said.
Suspicious of my rival, I suppressed the impulse to snatch the one football card required to complete my collection. from his outstretched hand.
“What for?”
“That,” he pointed at the small plastic dog hanging from my satchel.
“Really?” I almost threw him the toy I’d hooked out of the cereal box this morning and grabbed my prize, gloating inwardly at his stupidity.
He skipped across the playground.
Becky squealed with excitement, hugging and kissing Brendon after he dropped the dog into her palm.
I could read his smug smirk over Becky’s shoulder:
“Who’s the sucker, now?”
…
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