by Diana Urban
“Maybe she’ll die,” said Sasha, “and we won’t have to kill anyone.”
“Holy shit, Sasha,” said Diego.
Sasha frowned. “I’m just saying”—she pointed toward the camera in the china cabinet—“if they see someone die, maybe the timer will stop. Besides, you heard her. Priya totally meant she wanted me to die. She’s ready to become a murderer.”
“You’re one to talk.” Scott straightened his back against the wall. “You were the first person to suggest killing someone.” He tapped on his chest, glaring at Sasha.
Sasha threw out her arms. “That was only to save the rest of us.”
“Bullshit! You were just afraid I’d rat you out.” As the two of them hurled accusations at each other, Priya coughed, and her eyes fluttered open.
“Priya!” I grabbed one of the last glasses of water from the table and handed it to Diego, who helped Priya sit up and tilted the glass at her lips, helping her drink. “Quick, let’s get you something to eat.” I stood and started toward the table, where the platters of chicken and roasted veggies, salad, yams, and deviled eggs sat untouched.
“No,” Priya croaked, gripping Diego’s sleeve. “I don’t want anything they gave us.”
“I’m sure it’s fine,” I said.
“What if . . . what if it’s poisoned?” she whimpered.
A helpless feeling washed over me as I scanned the food. Priya had to eat something. “Does anyone have a granola bar? Trail mix? Something like that?”
“Oh!” Diego exclaimed. “Amber, I have a Snickers bar in my backpack.” He motioned toward where he’d been sitting when this mess first started.
“Won’t all that sugar just make her crash again?” I asked.
“Snickers is fine,” said Priya. “I just need something quick.”
“Hell,” said Robbie, “we might not be alive by the time she’d crash again.” A pained look crossed his face.
“Right.” I rounded the table and unzipped Diego’s backpack, digging around. “In the main compartment?”
“No, the one in front,” Diego said. “It should be—” He took a quick intake of breath as I unzipped the front compartment and felt around for the familiar shape of a candy bar. There were like a gazillion pockets in this thing. I turned the bag upside down and shook it until a Snickers bar fell out, and tossed it to Diego over the table. He fumbled to catch it, looking like he was about to be sick himself, and glanced toward my feet as he unwrapped the bar and handed it to Priya. I set down his backpack and stooped to pick up a bunch of pens, pencils, and an index card.
Wait, that wasn’t an index card. It was a Polaroid. I froze.
My heart stilled as I inspected it. It was from the winter ball last year, the selfie we took together.
I could feel Diego’s eyes on me now, but I couldn’t avert my gaze from the photo. He carried this with him all the time. Had he dropped it into his bag, never to look at it again? Or did he look at it often? The edges appeared worn, like it’d been handled quite a bit. And he seemed nervous that I’d find it.
But maybe it meant nothing.
I glanced up and met Diego’s gaze. Oh, God. The way he looked at me now—it wasn’t nothing. He watched me like I could tear his world apart faster than any bomb could. I used to have such a crush on him before my family’s world collapsed. Before I thought he found me worthless. Before he thought I hated him. We’d let our own misguided assumptions drive us apart. Did this mean that Diego liked me all this time? How many years of lost chances did this photo represent?
I glanced at Robbie, who watched Sasha and Scott scream at each other. He met my gaze and gave me an exasperated look, like he couldn’t believe the two of them. I never thought it possible to have feelings for two different people at the same time. It felt like teetering over the edge of a lakeside cliff, unsure whether to step back to safety or leap and enjoy the thrill, without knowing what waited under the glassy surface: a deep pool of water, or jagged rocks. How the hell was I supposed to know if I should take the plunge?
After slipping the photo back into Diego’s bag, I rounded the table and kneeled next to him as Priya leaned against the door and nibbled on the Snickers bar. Her chin quivered, and she wiped her nose. Diego took my hand for a moment, and my fingertips seemed to ignite, confirming my suspicion. There was something there. Without a word, he stood to join everyone else by the windows.
“Priya . . .” I focused on her. “I’m so sorry. You’ll never know how sorry I really am, because it’s, like, an infinite amount. I never, ever wanted to lose you as a friend. As my sister.” She scrunched her face at the word “sister,” tears flowing freely as she swallowed her chocolate.
“I didn’t mean that.” She finally choked out between sobs. “I don’t want you to die.” Relief settled on me like a blanket. But would things ever be right between us again?
“You know I love you,” I said. “I never wanted to choose her as a friend over you. I never meant to hurt your feelings. And maybe . . . maybe I was too scared to see the truth. You know, because of what made Maggie think she had no other way out. I was in denial that it was happening again.” I shook my head and glared at Sasha. “But it should have made me fight harder to protect you. I was a coward. And I’m so, so sorry.”
“I know you are. And I should have told you how I felt earlier. I should have shown you what she was saying. It’s my fault, too.”
“No, none of it was your fault.” Just like none of it was Maggie’s fault. If I’d been there for Maggie, she would have had the help she needed to fight back. Now I was going to make sure I was always there for Priya. “I’m going to make it up to you, I swear it. I’m going to get you out of here alive, and make sure she never—”
“Enough already!” Diego yelled at Sasha, breaking up her argument with Scott, making me and Priya jump. “Scott’s right, you were the first one to suggest killing someone.”
“No—”
“Yep. We all witnessed it. But the more time you two waste arguing, the more likely it is we will have to kill someone.”
“It’s already too late,” said Sasha. “We already have to kill someone, and you know it.”
“You know what?” I climbed to my feet, curling my hands into fists. “I think if we do need to choose someone to die, it should be whoever showed the least regard for everyone else’s life.”
“Oh, please.” Sasha waved at the air like she was brushing away the idea. “Enough with the noble bullshit. Let me tell you something. When there are five minutes left on that timer”—she jabbed her finger toward the fireplace—“you’re going to want to kill someone, too. You’re going to want to do whatever you can to save yourself.”
I wiped my upper lip. “Maybe. I don’t know what’s going to happen. But at least I wanted to give everyone in this room a fair shot. And so did Diego, and Robbie, and Scott, and Priya. We all wanted to figure this out, but all you could think about was making sure it wasn’t you who died.”
She scoffed, but I went on. “And it’s not just about tonight, in this room. You constantly hurt people to make sure you come out on top.” I threw Diego a meaningful look.
Sasha’s face went stony, like I’d dug a little too close to home. “That’s not true.”
Diego caught my gaze and balled his hands into fists. “Yes it is. You’d do anything to get better grades than me.”
Sasha scoffed. “Like studying my ass off is really hurting anyone.”
“Seriously?” He raised his voice. “Have you really forgotten all the ways you’ve tried to sabotage me?”
1 Month, 3 Weeks Ago
DECEMBER OF SENIOR YEAR
I took my usual seat in physics near the window, crossed my arms, and rested my forehead against them. I hadn’t been able to sleep a wink after Priya cast me out of her life. What was I going to do? How could I get Priya to forgive me? Scarier still, how was I going to confront Sasha about what she’d done, and the hurt she’d caused?
“Hey, b
abe.” Robbie sat in Sasha’s usual seat, kissed my temple, and wrapped his arms around me.
“Oh, hey,” I said, surprised to see him, but happy to get a much-needed hug. I nestled my cheek into his shoulder, breathing in his musky scent, holding him tight.
“Is something wrong?” He could always sense when I was upset.
I sighed. “It’s . . . everything.” I didn’t have time to tell him about Priya now. Besides, I had to figure out how to tell him. Sasha was one of his best friends. He might take her side out of sheer loyalty; they’d been friends forever. Had he ever even seen her cruel streak? “I’ll tell you later.”
“I’ll be here.” He kissed the top of my head. “Hey, did you get my texts last night?”
I had, but I’d ignored them, too heartsick to interact with another human being. Instead I’d snuggled with Mittens, who chivalrously endured my endless sobbing, and blasted movie scores all night like it would somehow lift the cloud from over my head. “Sorry, I went to bed super early. The sleep deprivation is real.”
He chuckled. “I feel you. So I wanted to see if you applied to Georgia Tech yet?”
My body stiffened. He must have felt me cringe. “Um . . . yeah.” As I pulled away from him, my cheeks pulsated with heat, and Robbie’s jaw hardened as he scanned my face. He knew I was lying. “No,” I whispered. I’d been putting off this discussion, too afraid to crush him.
“But you’re going to, right?”
“I don’t know. The thing is . . . Georgia Tech doesn’t have a music program.”
“I thought they did.”
“No, they don’t. They have this music technology program, but that’s not what I’d need—it’s more of an engineering program.”
He blanched. “Oh. I didn’t realize.”
“Yeah. Well, you know I want to study music, to become a film score producer. USC and Berklee have the best programs—”
“But you can practice music anywhere, on your own. Or you can hire a teacher.”
I frowned. “Wait, what?” I’d poured my heart out to him about wanting to study music. About Dad pressuring me to apply to cheaper schools. He knew how important this was to me. Where was this coming from?
“You don’t need some stupid music program,” said Robbie, and my mouth fell open. “You’re already so good at it—”
Boom. I jumped. Diego dropped his heavy backpack on the desk in front of me and glared at Robbie. Robbie saw his expression and glared right back. What was that about?
“Hey, Robbie, scoot,” said Sasha, hovering over him. “Don’t you have Spanish now?” I pursed my lips and fought against the rage threatening to unleash in her direction. I couldn’t believe I fell for her nice act. Robbie leaned close and muttered in my ear, “We’re not done with this conversation.”
“Clearly not,” I retorted, and glared at him as he left the room.
“Hey, lady!” Sasha took his place at our desk and tried to kiss the air next to my cheek, but caught my expression. “Um, are you okay?”
“Just fine and freakin’ dandy.” I opened my bag, pretending to search for something.
Sasha stared at me like I was an alien life-form until Diego slapped his homework on his desk. She glared at him and cleared her throat as she shuffled through her homework. “Question five, question five . . . the answer is fifty-eight point two kilograms,” she said just loud enough for him to overhear. I glanced at her paper—she’d scrawled 63.5 kilograms under question five, not 58.2. Sure enough, he turned the page and scratched his head. “Geez, Amber, that one was so easy. Get with the program.”
As she flipped through the pages, searching for another chance to make Diego second-guess himself, I stressed over Robbie. Maybe he was right. I’d learned piano and violin at such an early age, music was like my primary language. Did I really need to learn anything new at school? I could keep building my online presence, get jobs scoring small, independent films, and work my way up from there.
No, no, no. What was I thinking? I couldn’t let Robbie win me over. I couldn’t apply to Georgia Tech. Everything I did was for my music. Everything was set in stone: I’d apply to my dream music programs, get an internship at a film score production company, and make the connections I needed to become an assistant sound producer, or even a composer assistant. I’d had it all mapped out since I was in eighth grade. I’d never second-guessed this path.
Until now. Robbie swooped in with those irresistible dimples and kisses, making me feel safe and protected, flattering me with attention, and planning for a future together. How could I give that up? How much would it crush him if I said no? The thought made my throat constrict.
“Alright, everyone,” said Mr. Greenwood, snapping me from my thoughts. “Today’s going to be fun. We’re going to have an egg-drop competition!”
“What, like we did in middle school?” Sasha asked.
Mr. Greenwood shook his head. “Not exactly. The principles in this experiment—momentum, impulse, and impact force—are what engineers and car manufacturers use to help people survive major car accidents. They apply the laws of physics when designing things like airbags and seat belts. Now, this is going to be an extra-credit project. You’ll be able to add up to three points to your grade for the quarter. So those of you with a B can move up to a B plus, and so forth.” Sasha leaned forward, biting her lip. “You’ll need to build a structure that acts as a safety net for your egg. Keep your egg safe from a half-meter drop, and you’ll get half a point. One meter, one point. One and a half meters, one and a half points. And so on. But you have to build this structure with nothing more than ten sheets of paper, a meter of masking tape, and a pair of scissors. And you’ll only have twenty minutes.”
Seriously? How were we supposed to keep an egg from cracking with a few measly scraps of paper? As the class let out a chorus of groans, I glanced at Sasha, my lab partner by default, who gave me a confident grin. Relief flooded my chest. Of course she knew what to do. She sure owed me one.
Or fifty.
Or a best friend.
“Let’s mix things up today,” said Mr. Greenwood. “Instead of working with your usual lab partners, I want you to pair up with the person sitting in front of or behind you.” My stomach sank. Crap. So much for getting Sasha’s help. Mr. Greenwood paced the room, making sure everyone knew who they were paired up with. “So Sasha, you’re with Jason. Amber, you’re with Diego.”
“Yes!” Sasha whispered. She leaned close to my ear. “You have to make sure your egg breaks.”
“What?” I whispered back. “Are you kidding me?”
“You have to! This could be my chance.”
“Hell no.” My grades were suffering, and colleges would see our first-semester grades. These extra points would really help me out.
She threw a glance at Diego, who was gathering his things to join me. “Please?!” She gripped my hand, her eyes bugging. “We both ace every exam. I’m just a few decimal points behind him.”
“Now, come get your supplies and pass in your assignments,” said Mr. Greenwood, tapping on the empty tray on his desk.
Diego dropped his backpack next to Sasha’s seat. “I’ll get everything.”
“Okay, thanks.” I handed him my homework. Once he left, I frowned at Sasha and lowered my voice. “I’m not sabotaging my own grade so you can be valedictorian.”
Her jaw hardened. “Oh, come on, Amber. Don’t be a little bitch.” I flinched at her tone. “You know how much this means to me. All you have to do is balance a sheet of paper on top and ‘forget’ to secure it with tape.” She made air quotes at the word “forget.” Diego shuffled over to our desk. “Just do it,” Sasha growled in my ear. “Just fucking do it—”
“Hey.” Diego dropped our supplies on the table, strands of black hair flopping over his downcast eyes. I gripped the table, my heart racing. She’d never talked to me like that before. Did I even know anything about who Sasha really was?
Sasha’s expression transformed again wit
h a beaming smile. “Hi!” she said, about three octaves too high. “Sorry, let me get out of your way.” She picked up her things and practically launched herself at Jason, her new partner.
I rubbed my lips together, my heart still pounding as Diego organized our meager supplies. We had a short stack of paper, a roll of masking tape, and hot pink plastic scissors.
“So,” said Diego, “I think the best approach will be to create a bowl with some of the paper, and crumple the rest to provide a cushion.” His tone was cold, and his gaze didn’t meet mine.
“Um . . . yeah.” I stared at him, baffled. Was he mad at me? “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea—”
“Okay, good. So I’ll take care of it. You don’t have to do anything.”
“What? Why?” Oh, no. He must have heard Sasha. She was currently hunched over her stack of paper, already taping sheets together. When Jason reached for their scissors, she slapped his hand away. “Diego—” I began.
“Don’t bother. Here.” He slapped half the stack of paper in front of me. “You can crumple each of these.” Then he pulled the stack back. “No, on second thought, I’ll do it. Wouldn’t want you hiding something heavy or sharp in any of them.”
My heart clenched. “Diego, I wouldn’t do that,” I whispered. “That was all Sasha. I didn’t agree to sabotage anything.”
Diego folded a sheet of paper, getting to work on an origami bowl. “You know, it’s funny. I always wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt.”
I watched him fold, a helpless feeling spreading through my gut. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing. Never mind.” He clamped his lips shut and kept working on his bowl.
“No. Say it,” I prodded. “I want to know.”
He let out a deep exhale through his nose. “Well, remember that time last year when you interrupted our Science Olympiad meeting?”
A lump formed in my throat. How could I forget? I was so terrified Diego saw Priya slip the folder with the biology exam answers back onto Mrs. Tanner’s desk. But the exam came and went, and Priya, Sasha, and I thought nobody was the wiser. Sasha got her perfect score, Priya got away with it, and I got stuck with a heavy load on my conscience.
