Truth or Dare
getting up at dawn to shadow them. She wanted to photograph their hundred-dollar catch dying right in their hands—to seize that single moment of reality, the fish as they really were: scaly and hooked and flopping.
    Even in the dim red light of the dark room, she could tell she hadn’t gotten it. This photo, of a fisherman’s brow creased in concentration as he studied his catch, just looked… boring. Frustrated, Sydney lifted the photo out and dropped it into the trash can. She was just about to start on the next one when she heard her mom’s key turn in the front door. That was the perk—and downside—of living in one of the Dread’s tiny apartments: very little went unnoticed. Sydney quickly set to putting the kitchen back to normal.
    “Hey, hon,” her mom said wearily. She dropped down at the kitchen table just as Sydney moved the last of the bins to the hallway. She was wearing her blue scrubs, which like usual looked way too big on her gaunt frame. “You’re working late on a Saturday.”
    “Says the queen of the double shift,” Sydney retorted. Her mom tossed her keys into the fruit bowl and Sydney quickly fished them out, hanging them on the hook where her mom would have no problem finding them in the morning. She’d learned long ago that if she didn’t keep her mother organized, no one would.
    “True,” her mom said with a yawn. “Did you do anything fun tonight?”
    Sydney shrugged. She’d never been one of those girls who collected friends like stamps, never craved the sleepovers or gossip or shopping trips. But after she was sent away to the Sunrise Center the summer after eighth grade, making friends became almost impossible for her.The girls at school just felt so foreign, as if there were an invisible barrier between them and her. And she’d accepted that. She had her photography. And she had Guinness.
    Until Guinness had disappeared on her this summer. Suddenly she had no one to share her photos with, no one to vent to about work or the annoying tourists or how she could go days without seeing her mom. The highlight of her social life became joking around with Calum “I Take Practice SATs for Fun” Bauer at the Club.
    But now Guinness was here….
    “You hungry?” Sydney asked. Thinking of Guinness made a neon REDIRECT!! sign flash in her mind.
    “I ate,” her mom said vaguely. She leaned back in her chair, letting her eyelids flutter shut.
    “Let me guess. Cheez-Its and… M&M’s?” Her mom’s version of the food pyramid had candy and junk food at the base.
    Her mom opened her eyes, a tiny smile playing on her lips. “Dinner of champions.”
    Sighing, Sydney went to the fridge and pulled out what was left of the dinner she’d made earlier: couscous with mushrooms and tofu in a honey soy sauce. “How was work?” she asked as she dumped the food into a pan to warm it up.
    “Oh fine,” her mom said. She shook her head, letting her long, dark hair sweep over her shoulders. Sometimes when she did things like that, Sydney felt like she was looking in a mirror. Her mom was only twenty when she had Sydney, and with their identical hair, similarly skinny builds, and matching turquoise-blue eyes, Sydney knew they looked more like sisters than mother and daughter.
    “Here,” Sydney said, pushing the couscous over. “Eat.” She sat down across from her mom, resting her chin in her hands.
    Her mom shoveled a big bite of couscous into her mouth. “Yum, delicious,” she said. “So, listen to what Dr. Stern said today….”
    As her mom launched into a work story, Sydney found her thoughts wandering. She couldn’t believe her phone
still
hadn’t rung. What was keeping Guinness so busy that he couldn’t type out a freaking text message? Maybe the curtness of her text had annoyed him. Or maybe something was wrong. Maybe she should call him to make sure—
    “… your dad.”
    “What?” Sydney snapped to attention. “What about Dad?”
    “I was just saying I got a call from

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