The Rules

by Nancy Holder

  Thea gathered up a section of the slimy rope, still trying to parse how Robin had zoomed in on it so fast. What she didn’t want to say was that she hadn’t made any of the connections Robin had. She was the one flunking physics. And trig. Maybe she was just stupid. She tried to imagine going through life as a stupid person and all her anxiety flooded back over her. Her ankle hurt. Not only did she have to climb up that narrow trail, but she also had to do it lugging this rope.

  But there was no way Beth and Robin could be convinced to give up now. Even she could see that.

  “Okay, let’s do this!” Robin said, and Thea trudged through the sand, keeping her fingers crossed that they could barrel through all the other clues just as fast and get this dumb hunt over with. She still had hopes that a certain guy might be into sneaking off. Except if Beth found out, and it got around…

  “If you ever cheat on me, I will kill you,” Jackson had once promised her. He wasn’t in one of his bad moods when he said it, either. He had stared her right in the eyes and said it as though he was saying something sweet.

  And right there was proof that she was very, very stupid indeed.

  AUGUST’S RULE #2: No one is worthy of trust.

  The band’s lead singer was falling-down drunk.

  “I’m sick,” she moaned, her voice echoing around the room. August pressed a button on his black box sound mixer and the little robot bats in the rafters squeed in response. She just stared upward as though mesmerized. It was so pathetic it slightly took him aback.

  Larson and Praveen arrived, Praveen carrying a black sweater decorated with little white picture-frame shapes. By the looks of Larson’s wrinkled brow and faint smile, it was obvious that he was pleased they had found their object but was confused by Praveen’s skittishness. She was scratching her arms and chest the way she did whenever she was nervous. Beth had told him that Praveen was rumored to have some icky skin condition, but that she had never seen any blotches, bumps, or anything else on Praveen’s smooth, dark brown skin. Beth said Praveen was a neurotic hypochondriac.

  August didn’t know for certain but was absolutely positive that she was a neurotic kleptomaniac. She stole things just for the thrill, or for some other whacked-out need her twisted psyche required.

  How far will they go? August wondered. How much will they put up with to get what they have coming?

  Praveen held out the sweater and he gestured to one of the coffins containing an undulating corpse. Over the coffin read TEAM PRAVEEN AND LARSON. He had put the signs up after the teams had formed and run off into the night. He was going to ask the band to help, but they’d scattered during the break he’d given them. You’d think for the money he was paying they’d offer to pitch in. But no, they were rock stars. Or so they thought. August predicted an extremely short career trajectory for Maximum Volume.

  Praveen laid the sweater down in front of the coffin like an offering to the gods, and Larson’s arm brushed against hers as he detached the white envelope.

  Larson usually got what he wanted, but not tonight. August had seen to that. Larson was as horny as usual, and for Larson, any girl would do. There was no way Praveen was going to hook up with him, not if Beth’s intel that she was secretly dating someone was correct. And August would thwart Beth every way he could to keep her from having her heart’s desire.

  “Before you read your next clue, you have to decide Truth or Dare,” August reminded them.

  “Dare,” they both said, and August smirked. He’d expected that. They had a lot to hide. He reached into his trench coat pocket and held out a black envelope. Larson took it and ripped it open as Praveen stood on tiptoe to read over his shoulder.

  “What the hell is this?” Larson asked.

  August shrugged. “What does it say?”

  “It says we need to stand on either side of the pipe on the north wall, hold hands around it, and close our eyes for a spellbinding surprise.”

  “Then I suggest you do that,” August said, before sipping his beer.

  “How are we supposed to know which wall is north?” Praveen asked.

  August jerked a thumb toward the door. “The ocean’s right outside there. So that’s west.”

  Without a word the two of them walked over to the north wall where a massive pipe extended from the ceiling and disappeared into the cement ground. There was barely enough clearance between it and the wall for Larson to slip his hand around it so he could grasp Praveen’s.

  “This is ridiculous,” she hissed.

  “Yeah, but the sooner we do it, the sooner we can win the hunt,” Larson said.

  “Close your eyes,” August told them. “And don’t open them until I tell you to.”

  Once he was sure they had their eyes closed, he moved soundlessly toward them, pausing at a box of props. He would have to be fast, but that wasn’t a problem.

  “Okay, guys, you’re doing great,” he said, distracting them with the sound of his voice.

  “How long do we have to stay like this?” Praveen asked.

  “That depends on you.” August lifted a pair of handcuffs. He took careful aim and then slapped one on each of their wrists resting on the far side of the pipe.

  He leaped backward out of reach as they both opened their eyes, shouting and jerking their arms away from the pipe.

  With their hands cuffed together between the pipe and the wall, they were going nowhere.

  “What the hell, August?” Praveen said.

  August pulled the key to the handcuffs from his pocket. “You can get out any time you want and continue your hunt. If one of you will admit to why you deserve to be handcuffed for real, I’ll give you this key and you can carry on.”

  Praveen flailed for the key, but all she succeeded in doing was pulling Larson’s arm farther through the narrow space between the pipe and the wall.

  “Praveen, stop,” Larson barked at her. “You’re about to wrench my arm out of the socket.”

  “Shut up, Larson,” she said. “August, this isn’t funny.”

  August heard the worry in her voice. He loved it.

  “Not really meant to be, Praveen,” he said.

  “What are you doing?” She clenched her jaw and tried to scratch the arm behind the pipe. Then her chest. She couldn’t reach. He couldn’t help his grin. He hadn’t planned on thwarting her loony-tunes tic, but it was great to see her squirm, literally.

  “Just admit to something you’ve done that would get you arrested and I’ll let you go.”

  “I’ve never done anything like that,” she said, the guilt on her face so obvious that he had to laugh. Her brows shot up.

  And then she looked scared, and his insides churned.

  Do you have any idea how scared she was that night at the party? And then she went to find her sweater on the bed in the guest room? And it wasn’t there?

  The door flew open and Kyle came in with one arm around Heather’s shoulders, the other cradling a massive crowbar against his chest. Heather was hunched over, the fingers of her right hand wrapped with a couple of tissues. August could see blood seeping through and felt a glimmer of satisfaction. In her other hand she was holding a cute felt sea lion.

  “There,” August said, pointing to the coffin next to Praveen and Larson’s. TEAM KYLE AND HEATHER, read their sign. Kyle set the crowbar down with a clunk and yanked free the bright white envelope. Then he noticed the little drama in progress and froze.

  “Are we interrupting?” Kyle asked.

  August shook his head. “One of them has to confess to committing a crime. You’re just in time to watch them bare their souls.”

  Kyle looked askance at August as he checked Heather’s finger. “Okay, that sounds a bit…extreme.”

  “Oh my God. What did you two do?” Heather asked excitedly. She sucked on her bleeding fingertips.

  “Nothing!” Praveen jerked her arm again.

  “Ow!” Larson bellowed. “Shit, Praveen, stop it!”

  August could see the panic in Pra
veen’s eyes. Her big secret would come out. One of them, anyway. The one that mattered to him.

  The one that had mattered to Alexa.

  Then Larson let out a surprised guffaw. “Hey, wait. Praveen, it’s okay. I’ve got this.”

  August was ready to call his bluff. “Oh, ready to confess your sins so soon?”

  Larson gave his glossy brown hair a shake. “Sure, this one’s easy. I deserve to be arrested because I’m underage and yet I brought alcohol to this party, I’m drinking it, and I’m corrupting my fellow youth. So call the cops on me.”

  August blinked, stunned at his own stupidity that he hadn’t thought of that. It was so obvious. Not humiliating or degrading at all.

  “Well played,” he grumbled, tossing him the keys. Larson snatched them out of the air. Moments later he and Praveen were free. Larson tore open the white envelope and unfolded the piece of paper inside. Praveen rubbed her wrists and gave her left forearm a good, long scratch as she read along with him. August wondered if she wore long sleeves because she had scratched herself to shreds.

  “What does this even mean?” Praveen said, frowning at August as she finished reading the clue.

  August remained impassive. “I guess you’ll have to find out.”

  “What I should do is quit,” she said. “Go home.”

  “Or maybe you should just play along,” he said. “Confession is good for the soul. Test answers are good for college. By the way,” he added, “there are some things in the pockets of that sweater.”

  Praveen gave him a look, then picked up the sweater, stuffing her hand first in one pocket, and then the other. She pulled out a wadded-up piece of paper and a pair of earrings.

  Sea lion earrings.

  He waited. So did she. Alexa must not have shared her sea lion fetish with these people. He’d have to elaborate later, once the hunt was over, about why he had parceled them out to everyone.

  “Just put them back for now,” he said. “But give Larson the piece of paper and keep looking.”

  She did. Larson worked at the scrap of notebook paper like he was unfolding an origami Yoda. August knew that printed on the paper were the area code and first three digits of Alexa’s cell phone number.

  “I don’t know what this is,” Larson said, turning it over, then frowning in puzzlement as he gazed expectantly at August. August wasn’t going to help him out.

  Figures, August thought.

  And Praveen didn’t even recognize the sweater.

  He could feel the fury pulsing through his bloodstream, pounding in his heart. These thickheaded morons. They didn’t even get it. He’d been more blunt with Cage and Morgan.

  “We already did the dare,” Larson said. “We should get to move on.”

  “Oh yes, it’s always about what you should get,” August said. And you will definitely get what’s coming to you. He waved toward the door. “Be my guest.”

  Flashing him dirty looks, Larson and Praveen left the room, slamming the door shut behind them. August turned his attention to Kyle.

  “I’m assuming since there’s an envelope, this thing is what you meant?” Kyle asked, indicating the crowbar. “We wouldn’t want to be accused of cheating.”

  “That’s your first object. No cheating on your part, Kyle. Not ever,” August said with a sigh. He picked up his clipboard and opened his spreadsheet. It was okay. He had lost that round, but he would eventually have his revenge.

  “There was a mirror, too, right?” he said.

  “Yes,” Heather said. “It scared me half to death when Kyle’s flashlight hit it. I made him break it. Then I found this little plushie behind it.”

  “That’s seven years bad luck,” August said.

  “I’ve already had my bad luck,” said Kyle, “so I guess it’s on you, Heather.”

  August didn’t know what Kyle was referring to. What bad luck had Kyle Thomas possibly endured? Getting paired up with Heather? He gestured to Heather’s fingers.

  “You have blood on your hands,” he said.

  “Yeah, no kidding,” Heather snapped.

  “So, Truth or Dare?”

  Kyle said truth at the same time that Heather said dare. Kyle deferred to Heather, and August handed her a black envelope.

  “We’re supposed to act out a brief Shakespeare-inspired scene,” she announced. “Now?” She frowned. “There’s no audience.”

  “Do you ever really need one?” August asked her. “Isn’t all the world a stage?”

  “Whatever.” She handed a page to Kyle and kept one for herself. “You have the first line.”

  Kyle cleared his throat and began.

  “But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the East, and Juliet is the sun! Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief that thou her maid art far more fair than she.”

  “Ay me,” Heather said with zero inflection.

  This is for you, Lex, August thought.

  In the beginning of sophomore year, Alexa had decided to try out for a part in the school play. It was The Tempest. The drama teacher, Mr. Riker, had told her she’d nailed her first audition for the part of Ariel, the island sprite who made all the magic happen. She’d basked in his praise, chattering to August about costumes and rehearsals.

  But in the second round of tryouts, she suddenly wasn’t good enough for anything, not even as an extra. She had been crushed, bewildered. She’d cried all night.

  It was not until after she’d died that August got the 411 on what had happened:

  Heather. Just a freshman, like August, she was also up for the role of Ariel. Heather had gone to Mr. Riker and flirted and teased and gotten exactly what she wanted. She also convinced Mr. Riker that tiny little Alexa would be a distraction in any other part, and so Alexa was out.

  Alexa had never tried out for anything again.

  “She speaks. O, speak again, bright angel!”

  August was so angry that he wasn’t really even enjoying his revenge. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

  “O, Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy…boss?” Heather said, stumbling over the change to the text. She shook her head and continued. “And refuse thy…profession! Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I’ll no longer be your student.”

  Heather put down the page, rage and fear warring across her features.

  Kyle hesitated, glancing at her, but then gamely continued. “Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?”

  Heather stood as still as a statue.

  “You have to finish your scene,” August said. “Or…no casting agent. No ingénue role. And that’s what you live for, isn’t it?”

  “We’re almost done,” Kyle said softly.

  For a moment August didn’t think she would finish. Maybe a shred of decency lurked inside that vapid blond head. He didn’t want her to have any decency. It would be much harder to hate her then.

  “ ’Tis but thy profession that is my enemy. Thou art thyself, though not a teacher. O, be some other name! What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”

  “Whoa,” Kyle said as she tore up her page and threw the pieces to the floor.

  “Happy? Happy now, August?” Her voice cracked.

  He had no idea why he felt a pang of remorse. He really, truly hated her. She’s an actress, he reminded himself. She goes for emotion. She knows how to play people as well as Beth.

  “Bravo!” August cried, clapping his hands.

  “Moving right along,” Kyle said, clearly trying to smooth things over. He ripped open their next envelope and read the clue. When he was finished, he tsked. “You outsmarted yourself this time. I know what this is.”

  “Don’t count on it,” August said.

  Then Beth, Thea, and Robin burst into the warehouse. Flirtatious energy zinged between Kyle and party-crasher Robin as they caught sight of each other. August’s heart constricted. He didn’t want to see nice
people being happy. He needed to keep his rage hot so he could follow through with his plans.

  “You know what, Kyle?” Heather said. “I’m done. This party sucks.” Her big baby blues glittered. That was more like it.

  “No, wait, Heather. I’ve already figured out our next object. It’s a gas can,” Kyle said.

  August hid his surprise. Kyle was on the nose. Larson had slipped through his dare, and it had taken Kyle all of ten seconds to decipher his clue. He had underestimated these people. Again.

  “A gas can that we will try to find first,” Beth declared.

  “That’s cheating,” Robin reminded her.

  “Well, I’m not looking for it,” Heather said.

  She stomped over to where the girls had set their purses down and grabbed one. Unzipping it, she began to dig inside her bag for something, stopped, and exhaled loudly. August figured she was looking for her keys and that she just remembered she’d driven there with Morgan. It was difficult to make a grand exit when your ride was nowhere to be seen. Swearing under her breath, she rezipped her purse, grabbed a bottle of red wine and a lantern off one of the tables, and disappeared down the hall stage right.

  “Nice rope,” Kyle said. “I love what you’ve done with it.”

  August registered the surprise on the faces of the three penalty babes as they looked to where Kyle was pointing. The end of the rope was fashioned into a hangman’s noose. A nice detail, if he did say so himself.

  “Morbid,” Robin said.

  “All the better to lasso a gas can with, my pretty,” Beth said.

  “Or hang it high,” Kyle shot back, smiling again at Robin before he left.

  HANGMAN

  HEATHER’S RULE #1: Do as Mother says.

  Halfway down the hall, Heather took a slug of wine and reconsidered her decision to bail out of the scavenger hunt. The TV pilot she had said she was in? A total lie. She had nothing going on career-wise. Everything she auditioned for wound up a dead end. Her mother was pissed and pushing her harder than ever. She would make Heather famous, and Heather would do whatever she said. Or else.

  Heather wasn’t eager to find out what “or else” actually meant. At the moment, though, it weighed heavily on her mind as she pondered her mother’s reaction if she discovered the truth.