These Deadly Games(4)
But Mom sighed gratefully. “Oh, thank you. But I still have to find my keys…” She started back upstairs, then paused. “Oh, and Caelyn forgot her inhaler in her locker. It’s her last one, as usual. Make sure she runs in and grabs it before getting on the bus, okay?”
“Got it.”
As she raced upstairs, I shut my laptop and smoothed down my mussed auburn curls. Those MortalBucks would have to wait. “I’m sorry, guys. We’ve still got tonight and all day tomorrow—”
“We can hold the fort until you get back,” said Zoey, her amber eyes calculating. I’d be gone for half an hour. How perfect for her.
“You know what? I want Starbucks, anyway,” said Akira, seeing the anxiety on my face. Starbucks was right next to school. “Then we can meet up at the computer lab and play till first period.”
“I’m down for S-bucks,” said Randall.
“But the internet’s faster here—” Dylan started. Distracted, his avatar collapsed. “Welp, so much for that.” He shut his laptop.
“Sorry…” I said again, digging my phone from the couch cushions between us. My knuckles grazed Dylan’s jeans, but he stood before he could see me blush.
“Yeah, what gives, Crystal?” Matty screwed up his face exaggeratedly. “Way to be a good daughter.”
“Ugh, good daughters are the worst,” said Randall.
“Disgusting, honestly,” said Matty. His and Randall’s eyes twinkled mischievously, as they always did when the two were bantering. If we were streaming, our audience would be eating this up.
“Your face is disgusting,” I shot back.
Matty grinned. “Nailed it.” He stretched his arms overhead, nearly touching the ceiling. “Alright, I’ll drop you guys off at Starbucks, then I gotta shower.” I knew that was just his excuse to avoid Starbucks. A few months ago, I ordered a soy Frappuccino, and they gave me an almond milk Frappuccino instead. Then Matty took a sip, and, well, it wasn’t a good day. There were lots of needles involved. I couldn’t blame him for being traumatized. Even trace amounts of peanuts or tree nuts caused an allergic reaction, and he was sick to death of it.
“Gross.” Randall cringed. “Were you not going to shower today?”
“What?” Matty sniffed his pits. “I don’t smell, do I?”
“You always smell,” said Randall.
“Like roses,” said Matty.
“Dead roses,” Dylan joined in. Randall guffawed and offered his fist for a bump. Dylan had been quick to pick up on our particular brand of humor, though I could always tell when the others were joking. I was never sure with him.
By the time we trooped upstairs, Mom was gone—she must’ve found her keys—and my sister, Caelyn, was leaning against the coat closet, fidgeting with her handcrafted lightning bolt charm necklace that matched the one hanging from my neck.
“Hey, li’l twerp,” I teased, still in banter mode, fumbling my boots on. “Aren’t you a troublemaker?”
She remained silent, refusing to look at my friends as they streamed out the front door, even when Akira gave her arm a friendly poke. Caelyn’s messily braided auburn curls created a frizzy halo around her face in the dawn light, and her thick purple glasses magnified her huge hazel eyes, identical to mine except for the fact that all she could see were blurred blobs. She’d begged Mom for contacts, but Mom said she had to wait until she was sixteen. Though it wasn’t like contacts would be any cheaper when she turned sixteen.
“Let’s go.” Not bothering to zip my coat, I dashed down the front walkway to my car, a decade-old Prius Dad left me as a parting gift—well, more of a bribe, actually—before moving to Las Vegas. Caelyn and I hadn’t heard from him since, which honestly suited us fine.
As Akira and Randall climbed into Matty’s car, Zoey bolted to her house next door. “What the hell’s she trying to pull?” I muttered, realizing we’d forgotten to tally our MortalBucks totals. Would she skip Starbucks to sneak in an extra round?
Dylan chuckled, waiting by his Jeep since Matty’s car blocked him in, hands stuffed into the pockets of his blue-and-white-plaid jacket.
“What’s so funny?” I called over.
“You are. Paranoid much?”
I made a face. Easy for him to say—he’d already secured his spot at the tourney. But he was probably right. Maybe Zoey was checking in with her super-strict parents. They only let her come over so often because they thought our esports team was a study group.
As I grabbed Caelyn’s duffel and chucked it into the back seat, she muttered, “I’m sorry.”
“What’re you sorry for?” I slammed the door.
“I’m trouble … and you were busy…”
“Oh, I was kidding. It’s not your fault. Let’s make it snappy, though, okay?” I hurled myself into the driver’s seat and clucked my tongue, waiting until Caelyn was buckled in before backing down the driveway.
Since the roads were empty, I surged past the speed limit, desperate to make good time. I had to get more kills—more than Zoey, at least. But I quickly hit a red light. Dammit. There were only so many traffic laws I was willing to break.
I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel and glanced at Caelyn. Her nose was pink, a telltale sign she was holding back tears. Shouldn’t she be brimming with excitement? Did she really think I was mad at her?