These Deadly Games(13)


I could imagine her thoughts. No, Crystal wouldn’t have anything to do with this. She’d never steal a test.

But neither would Dylan. He aced every test, barely having to study. He’d never have to cheat. But he was technically caught red-handed, the stolen exam in his locker.

A chill skittered down my spine. What if the first number An0nym0us1 gave me was wrong on purpose? What if they wanted to make sure I stayed here long enough to see Dylan get caught?

But how did they know the exact moment to send me the right combination? I scanned the halls as swarms of students passed me by, and my eyes settled on one of the security cameras dotting the ceiling. No way. A rock settled in my gut.

They wanted me to see this. They wanted me to know this wasn’t just about stealing an exam or cheating on a test.

They wanted me to know I’d hurt Dylan.

I glanced inside the locker at the nylon drawstring bag dangling from the coat hook, waiting for me and whatever the hell I’d have to do next to keep my sister alive.





5 Years Ago


Zoey’s parents were evil.

It was bad enough they only let her invite five friends to her eleventh birthday party—Akira, Matty, Randall, Brady Cullen, who I’d convinced her to include, and me—but they wouldn’t let us play Manhunt outside. Instead they quarantined us to their basement den to watch Zoey open presents, bash an Olaf-shaped pi?ata filled with—no joke—sugar-free gum, and play her favorite movie, Frozen.

I mean, how old did they think we were? Six? At least they still let us have coed sleepovers. That wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Don’t forget, stay down here,” Zoey’s mom reminded her as she bid us good night. “Your grandmother’s trying to sleep. You know she isn’t feeling well.” Their fancy den was soundproofed so Zoey could play the violin her parents made her practice without bothering anyone.

“Sorry,” Zoey mumbled, like she’d already done something wrong.

We sat on our sleeping bags in front of the couch as Zoey watched an anthropomorphic snowman serenade us, entranced like she didn’t already know every word. Matty and Randall were in their own little universe playing some card game, while Akira and I toyed with Zoey’s new LEGO set. I sorted the pieces while she built a castle sans instructions, her skills boggling my mind, as always. Brady leaned over, reaching for a stack of colorful blocks, but Akira swatted his hand away. “Don’t! You’ll ruin it.” He pouted and backed off.

Brady lived in the house on the other side of Zoey’s. He was a year younger than we were, but so creative; I loved hanging out with him. Sometimes during the summer we’d set up a lemonade stand in front of his house, or collect stones, paint fun designs on them, and sell them door-to-door. We’d often compete to see who could earn the most cash by the end of the day. Sometimes his older brother, Andrew, would buy stuff just so he’d win, which was totally cheating, but whatever. I always tried to include Brady in our group, but he didn’t fit in for some reason. I didn’t get it—he wasn’t shy when it was just the two of us.

Antsy, I threw a handful of popcorn at Zoey. “C’mon, let’s go play Manhunt!” I’d been hooked on the idea ever since we’d seen the older kids in Matty’s neighborhood playing. We tried to join, but one of his moms stopped us—she didn’t want us running around the main drag, as though straying farther than their yard would instantly get us run over by a car or snatched into a van.

I never said Zoey’s parents were the only evil ones.

“Hey!” Zoey frantically scooped up the popcorn. “Don’t, my mom will kill me—”

“I’m in,” said Akira, almost out of LEGO bricks, as Matty and Randall scrambled to their feet. I bet she just wanted to get away from that creepy wood-paneled door in the back corner—she’d been throwing glances at it all night. It led to a run-of-the-mill storage room, but when we were little, Randall told Akira a dead body was buried in there. Ever since, she was convinced it was haunted, and for a long time, she refused to sleep over at Zoey’s.

Zoey’s eyes boinged out of their sockets. “We’re not s’posed to go outside after dark.”

“We could sneak out through the kitchen,” I said.

“No! I’ll get in so much trouble.”

“Well, fine,” I huffed. “But let’s play something.”

Randall practically lunged at Zoey’s pile of presents on the pool table and dug out his. “Ouija board?”

Akira crossed her arms. “No way.”

“Aw, c’mon, Akira.” Randall’s eyes twinkled. Teasing her was his favorite game. I bet the present was more for her than Zoey. “Ghosts can’t hurt you.”

“Um, poltergeists definitely can.”

Randall snorted. “No, they can’t.”

“No?” Akira quirked her brow, pointing to the wood-paneled door. “Well, why don’t we lock you in there for a while and find out?”

Zoey and I chortled as Randall’s grin collapsed, and he set down the Ouija board. Matty pulled out a board game called Sanctuary. “What’s this?”

“I brought it,” said Brady. “Thought it looked cool.”

Randall scoffed. “Yeah, but you think Dungeons & Dragons is cool—”

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