“Mittens,” I whispered. He’d jumped down from the bookshelf. “Silly cat.” I patted him on the head as he slinked between my legs, purring.
Using the light from my phone, I quickly pocketed the right key and tiptoed to the living room, nodding at Priya as I passed. Her eyes were wide, but she nodded back. Muffled voices from my parents’ TV floated downstairs. I edged across the living room, the dim light from the streetlamps filtering through the curtains, and unlocked the liquor cabinet.
As I opened the door, the hinges squeaked like they hadn’t seen use in ages. Just then, Priya burst into a coughing fit, signaling a warning. I froze. Oh, God. Did my parents hear that noise? I’m so busted, I thought as Dad called down the stairs, “Everything okay?” How was I going to explain this? My fingers tingled with fear.
“Yeah, totally fine!” Priya called back up, somehow managing to keep her voice steady. “Just choking on my own spit.” She coughed for emphasis. “Going to get some water.”
“Alright. G’night, kiddo.” The staircase glowed as he flicked on the bathroom light, and dimmed as he shut the door.
Priya peeked into the living room. “Hurry!” she whispered.
I grabbed the first bottle within reach and dropped it into my bag—the drama club would have to make do with whatever it was—locked the liquor cabinet, and returned the key to my dad’s desk. Priya followed me outside through the kitchen to grab our bikes.
Zane’s house was only a few blocks away. He lived in a generic three-story colonial with perfectly groomed shrubberies dotting its front lawn, and a rusty old basketball hoop at the end of the driveway. The booming bass of a rap song seeped through his front door. I texted Mom to let her know our bikes hadn’t committed murder as Priya rang the doorbell.
“Well, well, well.” Sasha opened the door, her smile instantly calming my nerves. “I didn’t think you were going to make it.”
I looked past her to the empty foyer. “Where is everyone?” Priya asked. Laughter floated from somewhere down the hall, as if in response.
“In the basement.”
“Ah.” Shifting my weight on my feet, I swallowed hard, unsure what to do next. I reached into my messenger bag to pull out the bottle, but Sasha leapt forward and grabbed my wrist.
“Not here! Do you want the neighbors to see?” Giggling, she pulled me inside, beckoning for Priya to follow. “Your timing’s perfect—we just ran out of beer. So, listen . . . nobody from the drama club could make it tonight. Well, except for Maria.”
My stomach dropped. “Seriously?” I’d stolen booze from my parents for nothing?
“Yeah . . . but that’s okay—we should talk strategy first anyway. And I should probably listen to some of your music.”
“Right, of course. I have plenty of samples you could listen to.” I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my library.
“Awesome. Email me some, and I’ll listen later, okay? Let’s just have fun tonight.” She threw her arms over her head. “You ladies ready to party?”
I grinned, trying to hide my surprise. “Sure!” I couldn’t believe Sasha still wanted to hang out with us even though the drama club hadn’t shown. Maybe she wasn’t such a bitch after all. I’d assumed those rumors about her were true—but maybe I should have given her the benefit of the doubt. She entwined her arm with mine and led us downstairs, where a couple dozen kids were lounging around in clusters holding red cups or cans of beer.
Robbie, Zane, and a couple girls from the cheerleading squad sat cross-legged in a circle. Robbie stared at his phone with a surly frown, his thick brows furrowed. But when he glanced up and spotted me, a grin broke out on his face. “Heyyy!” he called over. “You made it! Did you bring the game?”
My insides turned to mush. “I did!” He pumped his fist. “Hey, Zane, you’re in, too, right?” I said, hooking my arm through Priya’s so she felt included. I wanted to make sure she had a good time. “It’s fun, I promise.”
Robbie slapped Zane’s shoulder. “C’mon, man.”
“Okay, okay,” said Zane.
As they stood, Sasha extended two red Solo cups to me and Priya. “Awkward shot glasses, but whatevs.”
Priya shook her head and clasped her hands behind her back. Her mother would homeschool her if she ever caught her drinking. I bit my lip. “Er . . . no thanks.”
“Aw, c’mon.” She shoved a cup into my hand. “If you’re gonna party with us, you’re gonna party.” Amy and Maria whooped, and something in my chest fluttered.
Priya and I used to have dorky sleepovers with friends like Becky Wallace, but our version of “partying” meant playing Truth or Dare (mainly Truth, because we were all wimps) and using Becky’s pink karaoke machine. But this was a real party. I never imagined the cheerleaders and jocks would be so welcoming to a couple of nerds.
Sasha sidled close, rested her forearm on my shoulder, and flicked my messenger bag. “So, what’ve you got?”
I freed the bottle from my bag and handed it to her. “Here you go.”
“Ooh, Jack Daniel’s.” Sasha examined the label. “Nice. My parents love this stuff. Our pantry’s full of it.”
“Oh, cool. Did you bring some, too?”
A sly smile inched across her lips. “What, and risk getting caught?”
57 Minutes Left
“Let’s not panic, okay?” I said to Sasha. “Nobody’s going to make us kill anyone. This has to be a prank.”
“How do you know that?” said Sasha, her voice trembling. “It can’t be me. It can’t be. I don’t want to die!”
“Oh my God!” Scott suddenly shrieked at the top of his lungs. Everyone jumped a mile high. He stood and approached Sasha. “Can I . . . can I get your autograph?” he pleaded with wide eyes, clasping his chest.
Sasha furrowed her brow. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“It’s just . . . I never thought I’d meet the person the world revolves around.”
Her expression soured. “Oh, for the love of God,” she muttered, raking back her hair with shaking fingers.
“Will you stop kidding around, man?” Robbie shoved Scott away from Sasha.
“Yeah,” Sasha agreed. “You don’t know this is a joke.”
Scott wiped the starstruck expression off his face. “And you don’t know it’s real.”
I set a reassuring hand on Sasha’s shoulder. “You’re being ridiculous. This is just some stupid prank. We’re not killing anyone. So let’s just calm down and find a way out of here.” I glanced around the room. There weren’t any other visible exits besides the door and two windows.
“You read the note.” Sasha shoved Scott out of her way and plucked the note from the table. “Within the hour, you must choose someone in this room to die. If you don’t, everyone dies. Who would joke about something like that? We’ll have to pick someone.” Her eyes were wide and frantic.
A wave of nausea rolled over me. She truly believed this was real. But I could never kill anyone. I’d seen death before. I shuddered to think of that instant the soul leaves a body. That instant when a person becomes nothing more than an empty shell, a decaying carcass. Besides, this was just a sick joke. And we had an hour—well, fifty-six minutes—to figure this out. But panicking was the worst thing we could do. Panicking solved nothing.