by Diana Urban
“Yep! I want to produce movie scores someday.”
“Sweet,” said Dan.
“That’s awesome,” said Asher, another actor. “Hey, maybe you’ll score a movie I’m in someday.”
I grinned. “That would be incredible.”
“So, Sasha told us about your Romeo and Juliet idea—”
“Let’s get turnt!” Zane interrupted, passing me a cup. I’d never tried booze before, unless you counted the time Dad let me try a sip of his beer. Nasty stuff. Each time we hung out with Sasha’s crowd, Priya turned down drinks point-blank, while I’d sneakily avoid them by faking sips and draining my cup in the kitchen or bathroom sink when nobody was looking. But there was nowhere to do that here. I sniffed my cup and winced as Zane held one out to Priya. “Here you go, gorgeous.”
Her face turned a deep shade of crimson. She tried to thank him, but it came out as “Thaaa,” and she made an odd choking noise as she tried to recover.
“Cheers.” Robbie stretched toward me and tapped his cup against mine, giving me a crooked-toothed smile. I couldn’t help but smile back.
Sasha tipped the liquid into her mouth and swallowed with barely a grimace. I gingerly took a sip, trying to hide my cringe as the liquid burned all the way down my esophagus. I clutched my throat. “Woo! That’s . . . interesting.”
Sasha raised an eyebrow at Priya, who watched me with her mouth agape. “Well?”
Priya took a tentative sniff, screwed up her face, and held the cup out for someone to take. “No, thanks.”
Zane smirked at Priya. “Haven’t you had tequila before?”
“I’ve never drunk anything before,” said Priya. “My mom would ground me in a millisecond if I got wasted.”
“Trust me, you won’t get wasted from one shot,” Sasha said reassuringly. “Drinking that much just gives me a nice little buzz for a couple hours. And I’m much smaller than you, so.”
“Oh,” said Priya, taking in Sasha’s frame, which wasn’t any more petite than her own. “Still. I’d rather not . . .”
“At least try it,” said Amy.
“It’s not going to kill you,” Maria piped up.
“Do iiiiit,” said Zane. “C’mon, it’s just a little drink.” Priya still hesitated, torn between wanting to impress Zane and not wanting to disobey her mother. “It’s not like we’re making you turn over to the dark side of the Force.”
I laughed along with everyone else and played a few chords of the Imperial March theme from Star Wars on the upright piano.
“Whoa, that’s awesome!” Robbie grinned, dimples creasing his cheeks.
“Thanks,” I squeaked.
“She can play the theme from any movie.” Priya lowered her cup, clearly grateful for the distraction. “Literally, any. Name one.”
Asher set his untouched drink on the piano and nodded toward the keys. “James Bond.”
I couldn’t help but smirk. Easy. I sat at the bench and played about twenty seconds of the GoldenEye theme. Everyone crowded around me. Maria stood off to the side, her arms crossed.
Robbie nudged my arm. “Play Jurassic Park.” I played the most iconic bit of the main theme as he watched my fingers course over the keys, transfixed. The others shouted out more movies and TV shows, each more obscure than the last. I played them all, transitioning smoothly from one theme to the next. When I finally stopped playing, Robbie and Sasha whooped, and I blushed furiously.
“That was amazing,” said Asher. “Can you play some of your own stuff?”
“Ooh, pull up YouTube.” Sasha pointed at my purse. “Play one of your actual recordings.”
I whipped out my phone. “Okay, so, here’s one.” I pressed Play, and basically broke the record for longest breath held as everyone listened.
When the song ended, everyone showered me with compliments. Even Maria said, “You did that yourself? All of those instruments? That’s pretty sick.”
Priya gave me a giddy smile, mouthing, Yay!
“So.” Sasha turned to the actors as Robbie and Zane bashed on the piano keys. “I’m thinking we do a modern rendition of Romeo and Juliet. We can Americanize some of the lines, you know? Add some humor, maybe a bit of satire . . .” As she blabbered on, my heart swelled with gratitude. I couldn’t believe I ever thought she was a bitch.
Suddenly, the doors burst open. I gasped and stood fast, making the bench topple backward. At the same moment, Zane dropped the empty tequila bottle, and it shattered. Maria tugged Sasha’s wrist, yanking her behind the piano as the boys ducked behind the drums. We all huddled low, eyes wide, hands clasped over mouths to suppress giggles and gasps. Robbie’s arm somehow made its way over my shoulder, clutching me close. I didn’t mind.
“I know you’re back there,” a voice called out. It was Mrs. Burr, the librarian. “I heard something break. And I heard the piano from down the hall.” None of us replied. Nobody knew what to do. We were busted. “What’s going on in here?”
Shit, shit, shit, Sasha mouthed as she grabbed the nearby cups and stacked them. Priya started to stand, but Zane tugged her by a belt loop and yanked her back down. He pointed toward the side door, which led into the auditorium. We could make a run for it. Mrs. Burr was too old and feeble to be able to catch us. Maybe she wouldn’t see our faces.
Hunched over the shattered bottle, Sasha grabbed the piece with the nozzle intact and raised it like a dagger, the jagged edges glistening. What the hell was she going to do with that? Was she going to try to stab Mrs. Burr? If we got caught drinking on school campus, the cheerleaders and baseball players could get thrown off their teams. How far was she willing to go to get away with this?
But before I could do anything, Sasha wound back and threw the glass across the room, creating a distraction. “Run!”
53 Minutes Left
Robbie clenched the syringe of poison over one of the empty plates on the table, his thumb on the plunger, his grip tensing like he was about to squeeze. I cringed, instinctively holding my breath.
“No!” Diego yelled, flailing his arms at Robbie. “You could kill us all!”
Robbie relaxed his grip. “What? How would I—” Diego lunged at Robbie, grabbed his wrist, and plucked the syringe from his fist. “Alright, alright! Geez.”
“We can’t release any of this toxin.” Diego pinched the syringe between two fingers like it was something filthy and set it back on its tray. “Nobody touch it. It says right here”—he pointed at the label—“‘Avoid contact with skin. A single drop can be fatal.’ What if you get some on yourself? And who knows what’d happen if it goes airborne? We don’t know how concentrated this is. You could kill us all by accident.”
Sasha raised her eyebrows. “So you do think it’s real?”
Diego scrutinized the syringe. “I don’t know for sure. I mean, the syringe itself looks real. But I don’t know about the stuff inside.” He rotated the syringe with the tip of his pinkie, inspecting the light beige liquid. “Botulinum toxin can be extremely dangerous.”
“I’ve never heard of it,” said Priya.
“It’s literally the most lethal known toxin. The label doesn’t say what type it is, but if it’s type H, it’s the deadliest substance in the world. A single drop could kill you.”
Priya’s eyes were as big as saucers, and Sasha clapped a hand over her mouth.
I raised my eyebrows. “How do you know all that?”
He shrugged. “I don’t remember exactly—I read about it somewhere once. Or maybe it was in a documentary.” If any of us were to geek out over science documentaries, it’d be Diego.
“Would it be instant death?” I said. “What happens, exactly?”
“I think so.” He scrunched his brow. “It’s a neurotoxin. It blocks the nerves controlling your vital organs. Your lungs would stop sucking in air. Your heart would stop beating.”
Hearing him describe it made my stomach turn over. He caught my terrified expression. “It wouldn’t be very painful. At least, not for long. On the o
ther hand, if this is type A or B, there might only be enough in here to kill one person with a full injection.” Diego shook his head. “But without knowing the type for sure, or the concentration, there’s no way to know until . . . well, you know. Until we use it.”
“How would anyone in our town get their hands on something like this?” asked Priya.
“I have no idea.” Diego raked back his shaggy hair. “Some black market online? Or maybe they’re not from here.”
“I don’t get it,” said Robbie, wrapping a protective arm around me. “Why poison? Why not a gun, or a dagger, or something?”
“Those things are harder to fake, right?” said Scott.
“How are you so sure it’s fake?” said Sasha.
He tapped his skull. “Using my noggin. They want us to think it can kill you with one drop or whatever, so we won’t risk testing it. They obviously don’t want us testing to see if it’s real, cuz it’s not, but they don’t want us to know that. It’s backward psychology.”
“Reverse psychology,” I said.
“Whatever. I still say this is a prank.”
“Or maybe it’s because they only intend for one of us to die”—Sasha pointed at the bomb—“or for all of us to die.”
Scott furrowed his brow. “I don’t follow.”
“With a knife or gun . . . who knows what can happen, right? How many of us could get stabbed or shot or whatever? But maybe the poison isn’t the most lethal type, and there’s only enough to kill exactly one of us.” I nodded, following her train of thought.
“But why? At this point, why would they care what happens to the rest of us?” said Priya.
“Because,” I said just above a whisper, “they want the rest of us to live with what we’ve done.”
Sasha nodded. “Exactly.”
“Jesus.” Robbie wiped his forehead.
“Oh my God,” said Priya. “This can’t be happening. This cannot be happening.”
I started toward her, instinctively wanting to comfort her, but she cowered away from me. I swallowed the rock that swelled in my throat and turned to Diego. “Are you sure the syringe is real?”
Diego tugged at his shirt collar. “I mean, there’s no way to test it. Like Scott said, we can’t risk it. I don’t even want to let out a drop. If it is the super-dangerous kind, and it goes airborne, inhaling it could kill us, too.”
“I think we have to assume it’s real,” said Robbie. “Right?”
I exchanged a glance with Diego, who rubbed his jawline. “I don’t know. It could be real. But I don’t know.”
“No, no, but I mean . . .” Robbie licked his lips and furrowed his brow, like he was struggling to articulate his thoughts. “We have to assume this whole scenario’s real. The poison, the bomb, everything. Like, if it’s not real, great . . . we inject someone with that stuff, but nothing happens. But we’ve got to pick someone, and we have to poison them, in case the poison and bomb are both real.” He motioned to the bomb. “Because we can’t risk the bomb killing everyone.”
Everyone stilled. Were everyone’s hearts beating as rapidly as mine? I clutched my chest, and my collarbone was clammy with sweat. The room seemed to be getting hotter by the minute.
“So what do we do?” Priya croaked.
“We’ll have to go through with this,” said Sasha. “We’ll have to pick someone.”
11 Months Ago
FEBRUARY OF JUNIOR YEAR
I tried to survive for as long as I could. But here I was, crawling toward Sasha on my hands and knees, begging her to save me.
“I’m dead in forty-five seconds,” I cried. “Forty-four, forty-three. Revive me, revive me.”
But Sasha was too busy avoiding getting slaughtered herself. “Hang on a sec. These assholes won’t die!” She ducked behind a plank wall she’d constructed, narrowly dodging a burst of rifle fire. After a moment of silence, she built a ramp, peered over the wall, aimed her shotgun, and fired. “Dammit! Come on, that was a head shot.”
“You two are useless,” said Robbie. “I got you.” He raced over to revive me, hovering his hand over my head. In ten seconds, I was back in action.
Not that I was much use. We’d been playing Fortnite for over an hour, and so far all I’d mastered was chopping down trees, stumbling across ransacked treasure chests, and generally getting in the way.
“Thanks.” I glanced over at Robbie. We sat cross-legged on Sasha’s bed, laptops on our laps, while Sasha sat at her desk pummeling her keyboard, spraying bullets at our enemies. So much for showing Sasha my new tracks for the first act of Romeo and Juliet. When I’d arrived, Robbie was already there, laptop and gamer headset in hand. I turned to leave, thinking I’d have to come back another time, but they asked me to join their squad. My jaw dropped open. Maybe I’d misheard them? But Sasha said, “C’mon, you brought your laptop, right? Sit.” She pointed at her bed. “Play.”
If you’d told me a month ago that I’d be sitting on Sasha Harris’s bed playing video games with her and the hottest guy in our grade, I would have keeled over laughing. But I was thrilled to be included.
Until I realized how much I sucked at this.
“No prob.” Robbie dropped some health kits at my avatar’s feet. “I got your back.”
After my avatar bandaged itself up, Robbie lifted his hand from his keyboard for a fist bump. I tapped my knuckles against his, and heat rushed up my arm. Suddenly I became very conscious of how our knees were almost touching. I bit my lip, watching him play. His eyes sparkled as they danced across his screen, the light illuminating flecks of silver around his pupils. His strong brows scrunched in concentration as he aimed his missile launcher. I must have stared a moment too long, because he met my gaze, a smile playing on his lips. “You gonna come?”
“What?” I focused on my screen again, my cheeks flushing. His and Sasha’s avatars were barreling down the hill toward an outcrop of buildings. “Oh, yeah. Sorry.” I raced after them. But my neck prickled with heat, and I was pretty sure Robbie’s eyes were lingering on me. I dared a quick glance.
Yep. I wasn’t the only one staring.
“You guys,” said Sasha. “Enemies are building on that hill. To the right.” Sure enough, scaffolding rose into the air at a fast clip. It looked like they were trying to construct a bridge from one hill to the next.
“Alright,” said Robbie. “Let’s head around back over here—”
But I fired at the enemies’ bridge. The scaffolding disappeared, and two of our enemies fell to the ground. A message popped up: AmberOnFire eliminated DeftAssassin and Warrior045.
Sasha whooped. “That was badass! Bad. Ass.”
“Nice!” Robbie gave my arm a playful shove. “Those were your first kills, right?”
“Yep.” I beamed. I’d forgotten how much I loved playing video games. Maggie and I used to play together all the time.
Grief choked the air from my lungs. Maggie would have loved this game. The last-person-standing element was just like The Hunger Games, which Maggie snuck under my pillow after Mom refused to let me read it, saying I was too young. We’d fangirled over the series together, and if she were still alive, we might’ve played Fortnite together—me in my bedroom, her at some Ivy League school, shouting instructions at each other through our headsets.
Suddenly, Sasha’s door burst open. I nearly jumped out of my skin. A stern-looking woman stood in the doorway, a hand on her hip. “What on Earth is going on in here?”
“Mom!” Sasha threw off her headset. “We’re just playing a game. What’re you doing home so early?”
Her mother raised a thin, arched eyebrow at Sasha. “My last two patients canceled. I thought I’d get a head start on dinner. Clearly you didn’t think to get a head start on your homework.” Robbie and I exchanged a glance as Sasha’s mother clucked her tongue, narrowing her eyes at Sasha’s screen. “How could you waste any more of your time? And on something so stupid.”
“It’s not stupid—”
�
�The SATs are just around the corner.”
“I know, Mom. I’ve been studying nonstop, you know that. And we still have two months—”
“Two months is nothing.” Her mother crossed her arms. “If you want to get into Harvard, there’s no time to waste. When your sister wanted to be on Broadway and had auditions in two months, you think she sat around playing video games? No. She practiced, constantly. She sacrificed her degree. She never squandered any opportunity. Now she’s in Phantom of the Opera.”
“I know, Mom,” said Sasha. “We went to see her together, remember?”
“Well, I’m just saying, you ought to take a page from her book.” Jesus. If Mom ever compared me to Maggie like this, I’d be crushed. But Sasha sat there stoically. Only her glistening eyes betrayed any pain.
“It’s my fault, Mrs. Harris,” said Robbie, whose bravery clearly extended beyond the digital realm. He shut his laptop and scrambled to his feet. I glanced at my screen as an enemy squad took our avatars out in one fell swoop. “Sasha and Amber were going to work on the school play. But I convinced them to play Fortnite instead. It’s my bad.”
Mrs. Harris looked me over like she’d only just noticed me. “Well, you two might as well stay for dinner. It’ll be ready in an hour.” With that, she left the room, leaving the door open behind her.
Robbie and I stared at Sasha, who slumped back in her chair and crossed her arms. “You okay?” asked Robbie.
“Whatever,” Sasha muttered, blinking at the ceiling.
“You know, you can’t constantly work, work, work,” said Robbie. “Everyone needs to take a break once in a while.” When Sasha didn’t respond, he went on. “Besides, the SATs are dumb. Life’s biggest victories have nothing to do with school.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Sasha snapped. “Why do you think I do the play? And cheerleading? And everything else?”
Robbie raised his hands. “Sorry. I’m just trying to help.”
“Yeah, well.” Sasha stared out her window, facing away from us. “You guys should just go.”