Chasing Midnight (23 page)

The stars are visible again, and the logs encircling the campfire are once more crowded with bodies. Aly remains by my side the whole time, waiting for someone else to talk to her. So far, I am her only friend here, and I can tell she senses that very thing the way she keeps shifting around uneasily.

“Do you want me to grab you a drink?” Aly asks, standing up.

“Sure.”

She braves the harsh looks and accompanying silent treatments following her every move, and cuts through the circle to the ice-filled cooler. Somehow she seems to be taking this a lot better than I am.

I still can’t figure out where I went wrong. I mean, I thought the rich me had a little more clout than this. Now that we’re here, though, I realize my mistake in bringing Aly—especially
without warning anybody in advance. Not only is everyone giving her a cold reception, but I feel their icy stares falling on
me
too . . . including James. He’s been distant all night, sitting across from me on another log, next to Katie.

So much for our romantic rendezvous in the hallway today.

I want to be over there by him where all the attention is, not relegated over here to outer darkness. But James is ultimately the one in control—I know that now.

Not me
—him.

His approval means everything to everyone. He is our CEO with a black pen scrawling his signature across all that goes down in the corporation, and I’m pretty sure I’ve been fired.

I wonder how different things would be if everybody knew his secret. I wonder what people would say, how differently they might treat him if they knew the truth. Would they treat him like they treated me when I was serving them drinks instead of dancing with them? Or is James enough on his own? Did he invent himself so seamlessly so that, no matter what, he’ll always be the man in charge, the one with all the power?

As I watch him with his adoring crowd, I still can’t believe all these years I assumed he was just another lucky one, with nothing to worry about except for how often to bleach his teeth. Not like the rest of us.

He plays his part well.

Now James is putting his Alpha Male on display for all to see. To let the world know that what James Odera says, goes. That if you cross him, you’re finished. And if Mackenzie Love doesn’t follow his cue, well . . . then watch out.

Have I screwed everything up?

“Mackenzie.”

“What?” I turn around, coughing, trying to find a face belonging to the voice. But there is too much smoke, all of it somehow right in my face. Who is in charge of this smoking pile of wood, anyway?

“Your marshmallow’s gone. You trying to burn the place down?” A tall forehead made even taller by dark, coifed hair appears through the thinned-out smoke.

I finally make the connection. Tanner.

“What?” I ask, my mind drifting around like this infuriating, errant smoke.

“Your stick’s on fire,” he says, pointing.

“Wait, what?”

All at once the word
fire
registers in my brain, and I look down to find my long, marshmallow-roasting branch lit up in flames. Fire, climbing up the stick, inches from my hand.

“Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap!” I yell, dropping the stick into the fire.

The rest of the crowd searches me out through the smoke, every one of them falling into laughter at my mistake.

“Nice going.”

“Smooth.”

My hands sting. I lift my eyes. James’s smile sparkles here in the dark, even with smoke in his face. He is so hot, so heartthrobbishly handsome in the glow of orange flames that I want to leap toward him, to hear him call me “baby” again, even though I finally decided I hate that word.

It doesn’t matter, though; he keeps me at a distance with a single flick of his head, prompting me to look the other way.

Aly settles next to me again, handing me a Coke. “Don’t worry,” she says, her familiar scent rising from her skin, even through the smoke. “Burning up your stick is not a big deal. Trust me.”

But it
is.

Liv and Morgan watch me through the flames. I wonder what they are thinking, or if they’ll ever stop sizing me up. James drains what is left of his drink and stands up in front of the crowd, planting his feet wide while taking a moment to compose himself.

“Oh great. He’s going to do it again,” someone says.

Do what? I wonder, still not able to remember much from last year in this life.

My eyes sting. Loud, angry music thumps from a car parked behind us, breaking in through the chaos of voices and laughter.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention,” James says, all eyes shifting to him.

Jared manages to produce some kind of catcall-like whistle, as some guy I don’t know stands up and starts chanting and clapping his hands. “Pied-mont! Pied-mont! Pied-mont!” As if this had anything to do with sports.

James stands there in his self-imposed spotlight, his teeth bared through his charming smile, waiting for the noise to die down.

Loving every second of it.

Aly shifts beside me. She is biting her lip. Nervous.

I need to get out of here, to get Aly out of here. There is some kind of discord stirring in the air and reflected in the eyes around me, like something terrible is about to happen.

I start to grab Aly’s hand to leave, but feel the weight of James’s voice hold me back. “I’m thinking it’s time for another truth or dare,” he says through the noise, bringing my attention back to him.

I hold still, afraid to move.

The crackle of fire eats up the silence when his eyes find me through the smoldering black, keeping me prisoner. The group quiets down, the tension building at his announcement. I search for an ally in his eyes but find opposition instead. Trying to hide my disappointment, I lose focus in the crackling embers and the heat sears my face, matching the fear that has started to come to flame inside me.

“Aly Campbell,” James almost purrs, his voice a wisp of smoke curling around us. “How’re you doing tonight, baby?”

All heads turn our direction. I lift my head up, surprised he singled her out. Terrified he singled her out.

This isn’t good. Not at all.

Aly jabs an elbow in my side. “What’s he doing?” she asks, her voice hovering above a whisper.

“I don’t know,” I say. Wishing I knew.

She peers into the fire, trying to find James. “Hi,” she says to him, offering a smile.

James clasps his hands together. “What’s your choice, baby? Truth or dare?”

“Um . . . ” She scans each face reflecting the orange-yellow glow of the fire while I secretly panic inside. All at once, Aly’s eyes fall on me, her pupils focused and fierce, glaring.

“Pick truth,” I whisper, hoping James’s bark isn’t as bad as his bite.

But it’s as though Aly doesn’t hear me or doesn’t trust me or doesn’t care what I say, because without any hesitation she says boldly, with a smile, “Dare.”

I clamp my hand over her knee. Aly flings it off and scoots a couple of inches away from me, her hands clenched beneath her.

What is going on?

“Woo hoo hoo!” James says, his voice an octave higher than normal. “Hold on a minute, will you?”

He turns around to consult his friends.

I elbow Aly. “I told you to pick truth,” I whisper, trying not to let anyone else hear.

“I know,” she says, staring straight ahead, her jaw clenched, her profile unmoving.

James separates himself from his co-conspirators and turns back to face Aly again, his smile positively devilish despite those irresistible dimples. Behind him, more faces grin, all eyes on Aly and me. A chill ricochets up and down my arms, as if warning me what lies ahead.

“What do you think he’ll make her do?” someone whispers.

I wait.

We all wait.

“Flashlight, people. Who has a flashlight?” he says, scanning the group.

Tanner tosses one into his chest. James catches it, barely, and steps around the fire until he is right in front of Aly and me. I crane my neck upward to find his face chiseled out in the light of the fire, the shadows like paint brushed across his face. His eyes avoid me completely.

With a clank, the flashlight drops into Aly’s lap.

“Thirty minutes underground,” James says, pointing to a field of rocks behind us where a burrow of underground caves snakes through the abandoned property we claimed tonight.

For a second I think James is kidding.

I even wait for him and everyone else to start laughing and high-fiving each other before another more reasonable dare is thrown out. Instead, the only sound through the silence is the continuous crackle of fire.

He can’t be serious.

The static finally ruptures with a gasp, followed by a string of giggles and a long whistle before it grows quiet again. All is silent as each hushed face waits for Aly’s response, all soaking in the look of terror flashing across her face.

Even then, she refuses to turn away from him.

I feel sick.

I
hate
this. Hate it. Hate it. Hate it.

All I want to do is grab Aly’s hand and escape.

But I can’t. Not now.

I search for the right words, for the perfect response to get James to back down. I want to be strong and confident, even though every bit of me feels small. Insignificant. Powerless.

“Come on, baby. You’re not scared, are you?” he taunts Aly in his high-pitched voice, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Aly stands up and mimics him, crossing her arms too. “Where’s the entrance?” she says, grabbing the flashlight from James and pushing past him.

I can’t believe she is so calm. Any other girl here would have balked, including me; they would have gone with truth in the first place. She is a lot stronger than I thought.

A lot stronger than me.

Jared starts cheering her name, which under normal circumstances would have been a good thing. But not now. This isn’t so good.

Why did Aly pick dare?

“Al-y! Al-y! Al-y!” Soon, the whole crowd except for me has joined in, making me realize how far I’ve stepped out of my comfort zone and straight into the crosshairs of James Odera by inviting an outsider without permission. By being too nice to Cale.

This type of stuff isn’t supposed to happen to the lucky ones.

The fire shifts and sizzles, igniting a loud pop and a scattering of flames. I jump. James laughs.

“What are you waiting for, then? Let’s get this show on the road,” he says, casting a devilish smile my way, as if reminding me who is really in charge here.

I swallow.

Aly throws one last look at me, her whole face a knot of tension and anger, all directed at me—as if I’m the one who put her up to this, not James.

And then it hits me. Aly thinks I set her up. That I pretended to be her friend and brought her here tonight only to be humiliated all over again, exactly like in ninth grade.

I can’t let her think that.

Not now.

My head explodes, the blood in my body rushing upward. I have to do something . . . anything . . .

“Wait!” I yell, racing to her side.

Aly stops. All eyes fall on me.

More whispers.

Laughing.

My stomach starts to rot inside. “You don’t have to go,” I say to her, not to anybody else. “Let’s leave right now.”

She nudges away from me.

A voice calls out through the darkness. “It’s her dare, not yours.”

“I don’t care!” I yell back. Because I’m not leaving her, no matter what. This is not going to be a repeat of ninth grade.

James must sense my resolve, because he doesn’t fight it. In fact, he almost seems to revel in it, and soon there are cheers all over again—my name now, instead. “Macken-zie! Macken-zie!”

“All right then,” James says, staring at me, his eyes cold even though he’s smiling from ear to ear. “Looks like you’re going with her, K.”

“Come on, Aly,” I say in her ear. “Let’s go home.”

“No,” she says. “They can’t chase me off this time.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“It’s just a hole in the ground.” She isn’t smiling. But she’s not frowning at me, either.

Together we veer around the fire, the reflection of yellow flames dancing across the ghoulish faces of the lucky ones looking on. The music pumps louder and louder, and as bottles are passed from hand to hand around the fire, we disappear into the dark, leaving the heat of the fire behind.

fourteen

T
he drop is shorter than I imagined, but my feet hit
the ground hard as my knees buckle and I fall forward, catching myself with my hands. Mud oozes between my fingers and soaks through my jeans, where my knees meet the ground.

Aly shines the flashlight in my face. “Here,” she says, offering me her hand.

I look up at the hole we popped in through but can’t find a speck of light inside this expanse of black. Along with the musty odor of ancient earth, the air feels dense and heavy, and even more so inside my lungs. Surely I am starting to suffocate.

I cough.

Is this how the air used to feel to Spencer?

Before I saved him?

“Nice friends you have there,” Aly says, sarcasm soaking her words.

“Yeah, well . . . ” I don’t know how to finish my sentence. Just leave it at that.