“Oh my God.” Sasha hunched over, hugging herself around the middle. “This can’t be happening.”
“So what do we do?” asked Robbie.
Sasha straightened and rubbed her forehead with trembling fingers. “I can’t believe this is happening. What if we’re really going to have to do this? What if they really make us kill one of us?”
1 Year, 1 Month Ago
JANUARY OF JUNIOR YEAR
“Priya, you’re killing me.” I slumped over my keyboard, racked with giggles as Priya scrambled to pick up the fifty-two playing cards she’d shot all over my room.
“Sorry, sorry!” She threw herself across my bed, nearly knocking over the camera’s tripod to recover a card that slid between the mattress and the wall.
I slipped off my headphones and toggled the camera’s Record button. “Oh my God, you’re such a klutz.” I’d agreed to help Priya film and score her latest magic act, which she supposedly spent the last week perfecting. We’d produced several videos for her fledgling YouTube channel, but this was Priya’s first foray into playing card flourishes.
“I swear I’ll catch them next time.”
“You only swore that the last dozen times,” I teased, stealing a glance at my phone. Nine thirty. Zane’s party started a half hour ago, but we couldn’t head over until I had alcohol in hand. And that couldn’t happen until my parents went to bed.
I planned to swipe some of their booze since they hadn’t touched the stuff in years. They used to have a glass each night together, but one time Dad got so blackout drunk after Maggie died, Mom and I thought he died. He’d passed out on the living room floor, and Mom screamed at me to dial 911 when he wouldn’t wake up. After he got his stomach pumped, he vowed never to drink and scare us like that again.
“Think they’ll go to bed soon?” Priya asked, reading the stress on my face.
I often found Mom working at the kitchen table on her freelance editing projects when I padded in for water at three in the morning, but usually not on Fridays. “Yeah, they usually turn in by nine to watch Netflix. Can’t be long now.”
Priya adjusted the camera on its tripod. “Think we have time for one more take?”
“Maybe practice that waterfall thing a couple times first.” Apparently making the cards waterfall from one hand into the other before the reveal would make the trick more impressive, but so far the cards found themselves in every possible square inch of my room except for Priya’s other hand.
“Sorry! I swear I did it right a bazillion times before. But as soon as someone else is watching, I mess up.” She positioned the deck in her hand. “Ready? Ready? I can do this.”
I held my breath as she squeezed the edges of the deck to create a half-moon. She released the deck, and the cards flew toward her other outstretched hand, hit her palm, and scattered in every direction. She gave me a sheepish look as I pressed my lips together, struggling to contain a laugh. But it was no use—after a moment’s pause, we both collapsed into a fit of giggles.
“I think you’re supposed to catch them,” I said, catching my breath.
“Obviously.”
“You sure you’re not feeling dizzy?”
“Positive.” She held out her hands, checking for tremors. “I just had a granola bar a half hour ago.” Priya had the misfortune of having non-diabetic hypoglycemia. She constantly munched on trail mix or nutty granola bars, otherwise she’d get all dizzy and trembly. In her words, it made her a “perpetually hangry klutz.”
She rubbed her eyes. “Maybe you can just write the music, and I can plan my reveal around it?”
“Well, I have it most of the way there, but I need to see the final beats of the act. Here’s what I have so far.” I unplugged my headphones from the keyboard so she could listen. “The music will be discreet—sort of light and ethereal.” Priya nodded along as my fingers danced across my keyboard. “We mainly want it to emphasize key moments, without being distracting. And a crescendo will cut to silence at the reveal, but I can’t get the timing right until we record the whole act.”
“Ah, that’s great.” She wiped a hand down her face. “I can try it without the waterfall.”
“No, no, no.” I crossed my arms. “This all hinges on the waterfall. Besides, I’ve watched you toss those cards like fifteen times. You’re not giving up on it now—”
Mom rapped on my open door. “Hey, guys. Need anything before Dad and I turn in?”
Oh, God. It was almost time. I rolled my eyes, hiding my anxiety. “Fortunately, I’ve been blessed with the talent of microwaving popcorn myself.”
Mom snorted. “Aren’t you so clever?” She had dark rings under her eyes, and had probably been editing all night. I used to think she was escaping into words like I escaped into music, but when I heard her and Dad fighting about dipping too deep into their retirement savings, I realized she was taking on more clients to supplement his reduced income. I’d offered to get a job last year to help out, but Mom insisted I focus on school and my music. “Hey, weren’t you two going to a party tonight?”
Priya and I exchanged a look. “Yeah,” I said, “but we want to finish up this project first.”
“Okay. Just remember, text me when you get there.” Ever since Maggie died, Mom constantly needed reassurance that I was still alive, and my phone buzzed with check-ins throughout the day. “And if you need me to come pick you up, you call me, no matter what time it is.”
“I know, I know. Night, Mom.”
“Night, honey. You two have fun doing . . .” She glanced at the camera on its tripod and the cards all over the place. “. . . well, whatever it is you’re doing.”
When she disappeared, Priya whispered, “How long should we wait?”
“Like, five minutes?” My heart was already trying to jam itself through my throat. “She was already washed up.”
“Is that long enough?”
I checked my phone. “We can’t wait any longer. I don’t know how late Zane’s party will go.” My insides jittered. It wasn’t just that I had to be on point with the drama club—I’d also never been to a real high school party before, let alone one with the most popular kids in school. A mix of nerves and excitement buzzed in my veins.
I put on my jacket and slipped my messenger bag over my shoulder. “Okay, so first I’ll get the key from my dad’s desk. Then I’ll sneak into the living room and grab a bottle. You keep a lookout at the staircase, and start coughing if my parents open their door. Then we’ll head out the back door.”
“Got it.”
“Oh, wait.” I grabbed my new deck of Cards Against Humanity from my desk in case Robbie was serious about playing. My stomach wobbled . . . and it wasn’t just from nerves. “Okay. Ready.”
We tiptoed upstairs, and I waved Priya toward the other staircase while I slipped into my dad’s office. I inched toward his desk in the darkness, arms outstretched, my heartbeat thundering in my ears.
Careful not to make a peep, I slid open the drawer. Suddenly, something thudded to my left. I gasped and leapt back. Two glowing eyes stared up at me.