by Liv Reid
“Oh, sorry. Halloween party.” I motion to my ripped black clothes and the fake gashes on my face and neck.
“Yeah, I figured—after I had a heart attack,” he says.
He walks off shaking his head.
“Sorry!” I call after him.
But I’m secretly kind of pleased my costume could elicit that kind of reaction. Jess and Luna helped me with it. I wanted something easy and not too extravagant—I wasn’t going to this party for fun after all. I was going to work.
Luna had some old special effects makeup from when she used to post tutorial videos online. She’s really talented and was able to transform my face, neck and hands into clusters of open wounds and make it look like I’ve been dead for three years.
When I get to Mace’s house, the place is already exploding with people. I tried to come early so he couldn’t do too much stupid stuff before I got here, but it looks like everyone couldn’t wait to start the party.
They’ve toilet papered the trees in the front so they look almost like ghosts blowing in the wind. There are dozens of pumpkins on the porch—and a couple smashed on the front lawn.
I walk up the front path and pass by sexy cats, and sexy bunnies, and sexy witches. I pass by soldiers and clowns and doctors. All of them are drinking and playing around on the grass.
I make it to the front door and push my way inside. A wall of noise slams into me. The Halloween-themed playlist is blaring, and there are so many people talking that it’s deafening.
I take a deep breath to steel my nerves, then start pushing my way deeper into the house. I have to find the host.
I make my way to his room first. When I get there, I freeze in the doorframe because I see two people making out on his bed.
I breathe out a sigh of relief when I quickly realize neither of them is him. But wait, why would I care if he’s making out with someone? Wouldn’t that be a good thing? If Mace is preoccupied with some girl, then he’s going to be too busy to cause trouble. I don’t want to think about it, so I push it to the back of my mind and continue searching the house.
I had to come to this party alone because none of my friends were willing to come with me, and I understand why. This isn’t really our scene.
As I maneuver my way through the house, other girls look me up and down judgmentally. My costume isn’t sexy like theirs. My costume is scary. I cause more than one person to yell out in fright when they get a look at me.
I slip into the kitchen to search for Mace, and it turns out to be the most crowded place in the entire house. The drinks are flowing, and they’ve set up several tables with every type of liquor imaginable—and the tables are already a complete mess.
I briefly consider getting a drink just to make this experience more tolerable, but I ultimately decide against it. I’m working right now, I’m not here to have fun, and I have to keep my wits about me.
I push my way out of the kitchen and head into the dining room. There’s a long fancy table in the center, which people are dancing on top of, carving scratches into it with their high heels. I notice Britney and her lame posse are part of the group. I quickly duck my head and try to hide my face so she doesn’t see me.
I feel pathetic. I hate having to hide from her. I hate scurrying around the edge of the room like a frightened mouse, but I have to do what I have to do so we don’t get into a fight. I can’t let her be the reason I get kicked out of school.
I make it out of the dining room and find myself in another part of the house. It looks like a second, smaller living room. There’s a fireplace, large windows looking out onto the lawn—and Mace!
He’s in the center of the room with a large group of people gathered around him. He’s dressed like a cheesy vampire from an old movie, with his hair slicked back, oversized fangs and a black cape.
He’s the life of the party, and I can tell he’s in his element. All the girls are looking at him like he invented the moon, and the guys are hanging on his every word. If Mace told them all to jump off a bridge, they’d do it. No hesitation.
I can’t help but roll my eyes. How could people idolize a guy like this? All he did was win the genetic lottery. He doesn’t deserve what he has. He was born with money and good looks and athleticism. He’s never had to work hard for anything in his life. He’s never earned anything.
I look around the room and find an unoccupied chair in the corner. I make my way over to it and sit down. I can watch Mace from here to make sure he stays out of trouble. I pull out my phone and start reading an article for one of my psych courses. If I have to be here, I’m determined not to waste this time.
After a few minutes, the relentless pounding of the music starts to give me a headache. I look away from my phone to give my eyes a break from the small text.
I watch Mace for a bit to make sure he’s behaving. He’s having a great time, and I don’t think he has even noticed I’m here yet. Fine by me. I look around and see the other Players scattered about. The four of them are always together. Even if they aren’t talking to each other, they still like to be in the same room.
Camden is by the fireplace. He’s also dressed like a vampire, but a punk vampire from the 80s. He has a red plastic cup in his hand, from which he’s taking frequent sips. He’s in the middle of an intense conversation with someone who looks exactly like a female version of himself. She’s stunningly beautiful with long light brown hair and blonde highlights. Her green eyes sparkle in the dim light and she has the same sharp cheekbones as her brother.
I’ve seen her around before. She sometimes hangs out with the cheerleaders even though she’s not one herself. Isabel Wilder, Camden’s twin sister and leader of the most powerful sorority at Winterford.
Camden is such a wild and powerful guy that he never struck me as someone who cared about anything—or anyone—but he’s listening intently and nodding to whatever Isabel is saying. She’s probably the only person in the world who has any influence over him.
Knox is sitting on one of the couches, dressed like Nosferatu and looking disinterested as some beautiful blonde tries desperately to get his attention. She’s stroking his chest and whispering things in his ear with her pretty lips, but he seems unmoved. The giant just sits there and looks bored as he takes sips from his cup and watches people dance.
And Holden is—coming right towards me.
I sit up a little straighter, preparing myself for whatever is coming my way. He approaches with a friendly smile on his face, but I don’t trust it.
There’s a guy passed out in the chair next to me. His head is leaning back and his mouth is hanging open. I’m sure he’s snoring, but I can’t hear it over the music. Holden walks right up to him and without missing a beat grabs him by the front of his shirt, picks him up effortlessly, and drops him to the side of the chair.
“Hey!” I yell and stand up to check if the guy is okay.
“He’ll sleep it off,” Holden says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “He’s probably more comfortable lying down anyway.”
Holden takes a seat in the now vacant chair. He’s dressed as a modern vampire, with subtle fangs and golden contacts. I look over at the guy on the floor and Holden seems to be right as the guy puts his hands under his head and curls up next to the potted plant in the corner.
“Sit,” Holden says.
I slowly ease back down into my chair and eye him warily. What’s he up to? What mean thing is he about to say? What is he going to try to trick me into? But the next words out of his mouth catch me completely off guard.
“Do you play chess?”
“What?” I ask in surprise.
“Do you play chess? It’s not a hard question.” He smiles, but I can tell there’s something devious behind that smile.
“Yeah,” I answer.
“Fantastic.”
He reaches over and drags a small table out from behind the plant. There’s a chessboard on it, which was concealed by the large leaves. He drags it across the wooden floor
until it’s directly in front of us.
“We’re playing.” He states it as if I don’t have a choice.
He turns the table so he’s black and I’m white. I think it’s a fitting choice, seeing as he’s evil and I’m good.
“Your move,” he says with a smile.
I can tell he thinks he’s already won. That smug look on his handsome face tells me he wants to beat me with no mercy. The look tells me he loves to win at all costs.
I shrug and move my pawn two spaces. This is going to be fun.
17
Sadie
“Checkmate,” I say as I move my queen.
“What the hell?” Holden grumbles as he stares at the board.
A small crowd has gathered around to watch us. I just beat Holden in our second game of the evening. After I won the first, he called a rematch, saying the first was just a fluke.
“Was this just a fluke too?” I ask innocently.
He glares at me, but I just stare back with wide, innocent eyes.
“Again,” he says and sets up the pieces.
“I call next,” a guy in the audience says.
I win the third game, and Holden stands up without a word and stalks off. I can tell Holden is a good player, and he’s probably used to winning every game he plays. He’s good, but I’m better.
The new contender sits down, and we start the game. I win easily and someone else takes his place.
The crowd grows larger, and eventually Mace can’t ignore it any longer. He comes over to see what all the fuss is about.
“Checkmate,” I say.
“Good game,” my opponent says and stands up. A new contender takes his place.
Mace scoffs. “We get it. You’re smart. You don’t have to prove it all the time.”
I just roll my eyes and ignore him. He wanders off to drink and flirt some more.
I can’t believe it, but I’m actually having fun. After a couple more games, Holden stalks back over. He pushes the guy who was just about to sit down out of the way and takes a seat.
“Again,” he demands.
“Okay.” I shrug. “Your funeral.”
This is the toughest game out of all of them, but I still win. Holden throws up his hands in frustration, and I have to suppress a laugh.
“This girl is unbeatable!” someone in the crowd says.
What they don’t know is that my dad is a grandmaster, and he taught me everything he knows. He may have fallen into a rut in recent years but he’s done some impressive things in his life—before mom left…
“Chess is boring as hell,” I overhear Mace say.
He’s come over again to join the crowd watching. Another person, a girl this time, sits down across from me.
I reset the pieces as I say, “It’s only boring if you don’t know how to play. Chess requires strategy, mental dexterity, and cunning. It can be as exciting as football.”
Mace scoffs at that, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
“Only boring people find it boring,” I say. “And usually those people aren’t very good at it. When you have an opponent who can see five moves ahead of you, then it becomes really exciting. You both try your best to outwit each other in a game of strategy, and finally… checkmate.”
I move my rook into position. The girl across from me looks down at the board in surprise.
“Whoa, you’re good,” she says and stands up.
“Thanks.”
Another girl sits down, and I reset the board.
“Whatever,” Mace says. “This looks about as interesting as watching paint dry. You guys are all crazy for watching this. I’m going to go get wasted.”
He wanders off and leaves us to play. The next game is the second hardest after Holden’s, and I ask her to play again.
I’m really enjoying myself and don’t notice the hours flying by, so when I finally look down at my phone it’s a shock to see 2:00 a.m. on the screen. I suddenly realize I left Mace alone for pretty much the entire night. He could have done at least a hundred things to get me in trouble in that time.
“I should get going,” I say to Holden, who has come back again for a fifth game.
“You aren’t going to finish?” he asks incredulously. “You’re just trying to leave because I’m about to win.”
I look back down at the board for a moment. I then pick up my queen and move the piece all the way across the board in one swift motion.
“Checkmate.”
Holden’s mouth drops open. He puts a hand to his head and weaves his fingers into his dark blond hair, as he stares at the board in disbelief. I have to suppress a laugh at his look of utter shock. If he wasn’t such a dick, I might actually feel sorry about beating him so badly.
I leave Holden and maneuver my way through the crowd. A couple of people high five me, and I’m not going to lie, it feels nice. This is the first time since coming to Winterford where I feel like people outside my small group of friends actually get me.
The house is a bit less crowded now, but still packed with people. I make my way through the rooms looking for Mace, but I can’t find him. In frustration, and at a loss of what to do, I look out the window.
There’s a large crowd gathered on the back lawn, and in the center I can clearly see the top of the tall quarterback’s head. The crowd is bathed in an eerie orange glow, which I immediately recognize is fire. Oh no.
I run over to the back door and rip it open. I sprint across the lawn as fast as I can. As I get closer, I hear a noise that makes my stomach drop. The crowd is chanting, “Jump! Jump! Jump!”
When I reach them, I push my way through to try to get to the front. A couple of people protest, but I ignore them.
Mace has lost the vampire fangs, but he still has the long black cape on and it’s brushing dangerously close to the flames every time he moves. He’s throwing his hands up in the air to encourage the crowd to chant, working them into a frenzy of excitement.
I finally make it to the center and see the situation fully. There’s a large pile of wooden things, like lawn chairs, benches, and even a picnic table, and they’ve set the whole thing on fire. The heat is almost overwhelming, and I feel like my eyelashes are being singed just standing this close to it.
Mace is the closest to the fire and is now crouched down in a runner’s starting stance. What he means to do immediately clicks. The idiot is planning to jump over this burning trash.
The pile comes up to just below his chest, and the flames reach up to the black sky way above his head. He’s a world-class athlete so he may be able to make the jump—if he was sober. But Mace is clearly drunk out of his mind. There’s no way he’s doing this without getting seriously hurt.
Without thinking, I move in front of him just as he takes off. I hold my hands out and yell, “Stop!”
He tries to stop, but he’s clumsy from the alcohol and slams into me. My palms connect first with his hard chest, then the rest of me, and he feels like a cement wall. I go flying backwards.
Oh no, I’m about to land in the fire and there’s nothing I can do to stop it! It feels like time slows down. I close my eyes as the heat of the flames intensifies on my back. My feet leave the grass, and my hands grasp uselessly at the empty air. I’m about to get seriously hurt.
All of a sudden, I feel strong arms around me. I stop flying and they hold me still. I look up and see Mace’s handsome face above me. He pulls me back to the edge of the circle, back to safety, away from the burning flames. He places me on my unsteady feet, and I have to grab on to his large biceps to keep from falling over.
“Uh, thanks,” I say.
He just saved me.
“Don’t mention it,” he says.
He looks confused about what just happened too.
I realize I’ve been able to stand under my own power for a while and have been holding on to his arms longer than I need to. I quickly let go, self-conscious, and back away from him. I take the time to brush the soot off my black clothes so I
don’t have to look at him.
“Let’s go back to the house, Mace,” I finally say.
“Okay,” he agrees, and I breathe out a sigh of relief. This is going to be easier than I thought.
“Right after I jump this,” he adds and winds up again.
“No!”
I grab his arm and start yanking him through the crowd. Normally I would never be a match for his strength, but his coordination is off because of how inebriated he is and I’m able to pull him. People boo me as we pass, but I just ignore them. Did they seriously want to see him get hurt? I hope they are just too drunk to be thinking clearly.
I feel a tug and look back. Suddenly, he throws his heavy arm over my shoulder, and my knees almost buckle under his weight. I groan. It looks like I’m going to have to drag him back inside and get him to his room.
We stumble through the back door, and it takes all my strength to help him down the hall. He’s leaning his heavy body pretty much entirely on me. He’s a lot taller than I am and probably over two hundred pounds of muscle, so I’m struggling. I grunt under the strain and feel like my legs are going to give out.
We finally make it the short distance to his room—which feels like a mile. I kick open the door. There are two people making out on his bed, but I notice it’s a different couple than the one before.
“Out!” I yell.
I startle them enough that they spring apart. The guy rushes out of the room while the girl looks around for her top. She quickly finds it and tugs it over her head as she runs out.
“Bitch,” she says to me as she passes.
I just roll my eyes and slam the door shut behind her with my foot. I was lucky I startled them because I don’t think they would have listened to me otherwise. I also have Mace draped over my shoulders, which I’m sure helped. He’s the king of the school. Everyone worships him and would do anything he says.
“Come on,” I grunt and drag him towards the bed.
The navy comforter is disheveled from all the people making out—and probably more—on it. I scrunch up my nose. I wouldn’t want people screwing around on my bed. I wonder if Mace cares? Maybe those couples get a thrill from doing it in the king’s bed because they know he’d kill them if he caught them? Who knows.
