“Whoa, Robin. I—”
Then August jumped back on the stage with his arms wide. “Okay, scavengers, finish up. The countdown has begun.”
“Ten!” Stacy cried, and everyone looked at her with amusement.
“Hold on a sec there, Stacy,” August said amiably. He pointed at Robin. “For the newbies, even though they did
not
realize that we run in pairs, not threesomes, there is a penalty.”
“Kill! Kill!” Cage bellowed with Larson and Heather joining in. Kyle whispered it, and Robin mock-glared at him. Pretty soon everyone was clapping and calling for the demise of the newbs.
“Beth says we
will
die horribly,” Robin told Kyle.
He exhaled soberly. The moment for confessions had passed. “There is always that chance at a party of August’s.”
“Fifteen-minute penalty!” August said as the hooting died down.
“What?”
Beth shrieked. “That’s not fair!”
“I have spoken,” August said grandly. “Ladies, keep your envelopes sealed until fifteen minutes has passed. The rest of you, begin!”
“Well, good luck,” Robin said, moving away. Kyle had a crazy impulse to ask for a good-luck kiss, but that was all it was, an impulse, and he ripped open his envelope.
Tonight’s the night!
Do or die!
In the fields of _ _ _ _ _ _ _
You will never lie.
Your prize: I know you got accepted at Cal State Long Beach. My family has connections with the athletic dept. and if you win, you will get a general athletic scholarship—full ride, my friend.
Kyle’s heart sank. He read and reread the lines about the prize. Then he moved on, mentally and physically, going in search of Heather and her untouchable fields.
Cage and Morgan were together—the jock and the cheerleader, a matching set of athletes. That left Larson and Praveen. Weird combo.
He glanced over at Robin, who was standing with her two girlfriends. Beth must have told August he’d been accepted to Long Beach, the result being the scholarship prize. Beth was nearly as pale and sweaty as that girl singer in Maximum Volume. August had pretty much crushed her in front of all their friends. He wondered what had gone wrong between them. In the blink of an eye, your whole life could change.
He was proof of that.
The band ended their set just as he and Heather found each other, putting the pieces of their clue together:
Nine o’clock from Lacrosse’s car,
when it comes to real, Kyle raises the bar.
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
who stole away the curtain call?
“What does that even mean?” Heather said nervously. “ ‘Stole away the curtain call’?”
“Well, you do always get the leads in all the plays,” Kyle said bluntly. Maybe he would like her more if she didn’t
try
to be so ignorant.
She gave her blond mane a shake. “Because I deserve them.”
Kyle just shrugged. That was what these friends were all about—lying even to themselves to get what they wanted.
“I do deserve them!” she cried.
As she sputtered and protested, he walked over to where he’d left his stuff and picked up a flashlight. The others scattered to the wind, the band taking a break. Stacy waved and laughed and wished them all happy hunting as Hiro, the drummer, gave himself a solo. Mick, the one who had almost been electrocuted, played along. But Drew the bassist stomped off by himself, using the same silk hankie he’d dabbed Stacy’s forehead with to wipe the sweat off his own face.
Kyle led the way along the seawall to the parking lot. Everyone on the hunt had parked there—he knew all the cars. Fog spilled over his ankles like freshly poured milk. It seemed to crawl up the building hand over hand, an excellent cover if you wanted to hide and then jump out and scare the hell out of someone. August had never mounted a hunt at such a sprawling, remote location.
As they moved away from the warehouse, Kyle turned on the flashlight, trying to ignore Heather, who couldn’t seem to stop talking. She was driving him crazy.
If he traced a straight line
Then August jumped back on the stage with his arms wide. “Okay, scavengers, finish up. The countdown has begun.”
“Ten!” Stacy cried, and everyone looked at her with amusement.
“Hold on a sec there, Stacy,” August said amiably. He pointed at Robin. “For the newbies, even though they did
not
realize that we run in pairs, not threesomes, there is a penalty.”
“Kill! Kill!” Cage bellowed with Larson and Heather joining in. Kyle whispered it, and Robin mock-glared at him. Pretty soon everyone was clapping and calling for the demise of the newbs.
“Beth says we
will
die horribly,” Robin told Kyle.
He exhaled soberly. The moment for confessions had passed. “There is always that chance at a party of August’s.”
“Fifteen-minute penalty!” August said as the hooting died down.
“What?”
Beth shrieked. “That’s not fair!”
“I have spoken,” August said grandly. “Ladies, keep your envelopes sealed until fifteen minutes has passed. The rest of you, begin!”
“Well, good luck,” Robin said, moving away. Kyle had a crazy impulse to ask for a good-luck kiss, but that was all it was, an impulse, and he ripped open his envelope.
Tonight’s the night!
Do or die!
In the fields of _ _ _ _ _ _ _
You will never lie.
Your prize: I know you got accepted at Cal State Long Beach. My family has connections with the athletic dept. and if you win, you will get a general athletic scholarship—full ride, my friend.
Kyle’s heart sank. He read and reread the lines about the prize. Then he moved on, mentally and physically, going in search of Heather and her untouchable fields.
Cage and Morgan were together—the jock and the cheerleader, a matching set of athletes. That left Larson and Praveen. Weird combo.
He glanced over at Robin, who was standing with her two girlfriends. Beth must have told August he’d been accepted to Long Beach, the result being the scholarship prize. Beth was nearly as pale and sweaty as that girl singer in Maximum Volume. August had pretty much crushed her in front of all their friends. He wondered what had gone wrong between them. In the blink of an eye, your whole life could change.
He was proof of that.
The band ended their set just as he and Heather found each other, putting the pieces of their clue together:
Nine o’clock from Lacrosse’s car,
when it comes to real, Kyle raises the bar.
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
who stole away the curtain call?
“What does that even mean?” Heather said nervously. “ ‘Stole away the curtain call’?”
“Well, you do always get the leads in all the plays,” Kyle said bluntly. Maybe he would like her more if she didn’t
try
to be so ignorant.
She gave her blond mane a shake. “Because I deserve them.”
Kyle just shrugged. That was what these friends were all about—lying even to themselves to get what they wanted.
“I do deserve them!” she cried.
As she sputtered and protested, he walked over to where he’d left his stuff and picked up a flashlight. The others scattered to the wind, the band taking a break. Stacy waved and laughed and wished them all happy hunting as Hiro, the drummer, gave himself a solo. Mick, the one who had almost been electrocuted, played along. But Drew the bassist stomped off by himself, using the same silk hankie he’d dabbed Stacy’s forehead with to wipe the sweat off his own face.
Kyle led the way along the seawall to the parking lot. Everyone on the hunt had parked there—he knew all the cars. Fog spilled over his ankles like freshly poured milk. It seemed to crawl up the building hand over hand, an excellent cover if you wanted to hide and then jump out and scare the hell out of someone. August had never mounted a hunt at such a sprawling, remote location.
As they moved away from the warehouse, Kyle turned on the flashlight, trying to ignore Heather, who couldn’t seem to stop talking. She was driving him crazy.
If he traced a straight line
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