Ten (6 page)

“Almonds?” Meg asked.

Lori pushed the bowl forward. “Look.”

Ten heads bent over the salad bowl and Meg clearly saw them. Several thin, slivered almond pieces sprinkled into the salad.

EIGHT

“THAT’S SO WEIRD,” MEG SAID. “I DIDN’T PUT ANY
nuts in. I swear.”

Vivian planted her hands on her hips. “You must have.”

Once again Meg felt nine pairs of eyes boring into her. She wished the floor would just open up and swallow her whole. Her mouth was suddenly parched, her throat tight. She knew she hadn’t added the nuts to the salad. Absolutely positively not. She wanted to defend herself, but she couldn’t even think of what to say.

“Hey!” Minnie said sharply. “If Meg says she didn’t do it, she didn’t do it.”

Meg could have hugged her. It was comforting to know Minnie had her back.

Vivian clicked her tongue. “Well, someone must have.”

Mumbles of “I didn’t” and “Not me” rippled around the table.

Meg sat down in the nearest chair. She knew she hadn’t added almonds—which meant one of the others must have. But why would anyone do something as mundane as add nuts to a salad and then not cop to it? It had to be a mistake. Someone accidentally added them, then after Ben’s attack was too embarrassed to fess up.

Meg felt a hand brush against her back. “No one’s blaming you,” T.J. said.

“Oh, my God, no,” Ben said. He grabbed Meg by the shoulders. “You totally saved my life. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t been here.”

Ben stepped away and Minnie practically tackled Meg with a ferocious embrace. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she said, planting a kiss on Meg’s cheek between each repetition.

Meg smiled. That was the Minnie she knew and loved. It was good to see her again. “You’re welcome.”

Silence descended over the dining room table as everyone wandered back to their seats. A few people picked at the food on their plates, but it seemed no one had any appetite left.

Ben was the first to break the silence. “It’s no big deal, guys. Seriously. Happens all the time.”

“Sorry,” T.J. said. “It was just kind of a shock, you know?”

Ben piled his utensils on his plate and stood up. “Forget it. Let’s go watch TV or something, huh? You guys are bumming me out.”

He bussed his plate into the kitchen, and Minnie quickly followed, leaving her mostly untouched dinner on the table. One by one they gathered up plates and serving trays, and hauled everything to the sink. Nathan and Kenny didn’t hang around to get roped into clean-up duty. Lori followed close behind Kenny, and Vivian, after a few instructions on how the dishwasher should be loaded, joined the group in the living room. But Meg lingered.

While Gunner and Kumiko rinsed plates and loaded them in the dishwasher in the exact opposite way Vivian had recommended, Meg checked the cupboards for signs of the slivered almonds. When she came up empty, she pulled out the trashcan and used a long wooden spoon to pick through the table scrapings, looking for any sign of the almonds.

“I already checked,” T.J. said. “No empty bag of almonds.”

“Oh.” Meg stood up and tossed the spoon into the sink.

“Weird,” Gunner said. King of the Obvious.

Kumiko added detergent to the dishwasher and closed it up. “Don’t worry about it. Ben’s fine. Just put it out of your mind.”

“Exactly,” T.J. said. “You need to relax. That’s what this weekend’s for, right?” He disappeared onto the patio and returned with four beers. He handed two to Gunner, then popped the other two with an opener on his key ring. “Seriously, have one. I know you don’t really drink but it’ll help you relax.”

Meg took the bottle gratefully. T.J. was right. She just needed to relax and have some fun. Stop worrying about who put almonds in the salad. This weekend was supposed to be fun.

Beers in hand, T.J., Gunner, Kumiko, and Meg joined the rest of the party in the living room. Meg expected to see a movie on the huge flat-screen television, but instead it was blank and blue, bathing the living room in a dullish cerulean light. Nathan and Kenny stood at a bookcase. They yanked DVD cases off the shelf and tossed them to Ben and Minnie on the sofa.

Minnie pried open
The Hangover
. “Empty,” she said before flinging it in a large pile on the floor.

“Empty,” Ben said, and added
Trading Places
.

“Empty?” Meg asked.

“Empty,” Ben and Minnie said in unison.

Kenny didn’t even turn around. “All of them.”

“It doesn’t make sense.” Vivian examined the discarded cases as if she didn’t entirely trust anyone else’s opinion. “Why would someone put empty DVD cases on the shelf?”

T.J. picked up the remote and flipped through input devices. The result was always the same: blue screen of death.

“The satellite’s out,” Kenny said.

A gust of wind blasted the backside of the house as if in agreement. It wasn’t the least bit cold inside, but Meg shivered.

“Must be the storm.” Ben jumped to his feet and headed to the kitchen. “I’m getting more beers. I think we’re gonna need them.”

“We can always play board games,” Lori said. “I saw some stacked in the—”

“Here’s one!” Minnie squealed. She held up a shiny DVD like she’d just found Willy Wonka’s last golden ticket.

“What is it?” Vivian asked.

Nathan plucked the disc out of her hand. “It’s homemade.” He held it up to his face and read the label: “Don’t Watch Me.”

“I don’t know that movie,” Gunner said.

Minnie snorted. “It’s a burned disc, Gun Show. Not a real movie.”

“Oh.”

Ben handed beers around. “It’s probably lame vacation footage or something.”

“Or porn,” Nathan volunteered.

Lori wrinkled her nose. “Why would someone label porn
Don’t Watch Me
?”

Nathan shrugged. “Why not?”

Vivian sat in one of the winged chairs and crossed her legs. “I don’t like this.”

“You know what?” Minnie said with a dramatic pause. “This is how horror movies start.”

“We’ve already had one near-death experience,” Kumiko said.

Ben laughed. “Just an accident. Nothing sinister.”

“Dude!” Nathan pointed at T.J. “You’d better watch out.”

T.J. arched an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Well, if this is a horror movie, you’re the first one to go. The black dude’s always the first one to die.”

Words flew out of Meg’s mouth before she even knew what she was saying. “Really? You really needed to go there?”

“What?” Nathan looked around the room. Everyone avoided his eyes. “It’s true.”

Focus shifted back to Meg. She felt her throat start to tighten up, the usual shyness creeping over her. “I, uh …”

“Come on,” Nathan said. “Say it.”

Meg saw the bully come out in Nathan. And there was nothing she hated more than a bully. It pissed her off that he was trying to intimidate her, and suddenly, Meg was able to say exactly what she meant.

“Racist much? Are you going to ask if Kumiko can help you with your math homework next?”

Kumiko laughed. “Good one.”

Meg smiled, surprised by her own words. She usually wasn’t this confrontational. Must be the booze.

“Whatever.” Nathan snatched the disc out of Kenny’s hands. “Are we watching this or not?”

“Why not?” Ben handed Minnie a beer and sat down next to her. Meg saw him drape a long arm around Minnie’s back. “Better than board games.”

“Dude,” Gunner said, his eyes wide. “Don’t do it.”

Minnie laughed, light and airy, as she leaned into Ben’s arm. “Oh come on, it’s just a video.” She pointed at Nathan. “Hurry up!”

Nathan put the disc in the machine and hit Play.

The number “10” appeared on the screen. It was animated as if it had been written by hand, and then a red slash crossed right through it. “9” and “8” were drawn and slashed through in the same manner, then three images of a beach at night cycled through in rapid succession, all different locations, it seemed, but all with a prominent starry sky and waves breaking across an expanse of sand.

The numbers started again: “7,” “6,” “5,” all with the same red slash marks crossing them out as if they were being counted down. Then more images. This time it was a collage of students in class—taking a test, arguing in some sort of mock trial, doing science experiments, running around a track, glee club.

“4,” “3,” “2,” “1.”

The screen went black and a low soundtrack kicked in. Just a few solo piano chords at first, then a soprano voice began to sing.

“Sure on this shining night …”

Words faded onto the screen.

When you hurt someone …

… with intent … with cruelty …

The screen went black for a moment as the song continued, then more words faded into view.

To steal someone’s soul.

To break someone’s heart.

The screen flashed, then filled with a quick montage of totally random images—a lightbulb turning on, a judge’s gavel striking a sound block, a bonfire.

To lie, cheat, or steal.

To destroy a reputation.

More random images. Math equations scrolling across the screen. People dancing. A girl and a boy making out.

Your actions are a crime.

Now it was capital punishment. An electric chair. A firing squad. A gallows.

Even if the law does not recognize it.

Flames filled the screen.

Your betrayal, your backstabbing, your character assassination.

The music stopped.

Steps must be taken to protect the innocent.

Those steps begin right here, right now.

Suddenly the screen exploded with light and sound. The images flashed at a manic pace, moving backward as if the movie had been switched into rewind. The music was no longer a languid song but a dissonant cluster of screaming chords. The noise crescendoed as the video reached the countdown again, flying rapidly in reverse from one to ten. There was a massive explosion, along with matching sound effects, then a single line of text faded into view.

Vengeance is mine.

The screen went black.

NINE

STATIC FIZZLED ON THE SCREEN WHILE EVERYONE
sat frozen in their seats, unable to move.

Kumiko was the first to break the spell. She jumped up and turned off the television with a shaky hand. “What the hell was that?”

Gunner scratched his knee. “Maybe Jessica’s messing with us?”

“Backstabbing? Character assassination?” Vivian’s voice seemed to have gone up an octave. “What does that even mean?”

“I can honestly say that was the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen,” Ben said.

“Math problems?” Nathan said with a tense laugh. “And a noose? I mean, it’s just a joke, right?”

“Sick joke,” T.J. said. He was still staring at the dark television screen, his jaw muscles clenched tight.

“It couldn’t mean anything,” Vivian said.

From the corner of the room, someone sobbed. Everyone turned. Lori sat on the window bench, frantically rubbing the side of her face. Her eyes were red and swollen, and heavy tears streaked down her cheeks.

“Lori, are you okay?” Kenny asked. He heaved himself off the sofa with more agility than Meg thought possible and was across the room to her in an instant.

He placed his hand on her shoulder, and Lori started as if she’d been woken out of a deep sleep. There was a look on her face that Meg could only describe as panic. Without warning, she balled up her fists and pounded them against the wooden bench. “
Who did this?
”

Everyone froze. Stunned.

Nathan glanced at the blank television screen. “Huh?”

“One of you did it. To scare us.” Lori looked around aimlessly. “I need … I need …” She spotted the beer Ben had placed next to her and polished it off.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Vivian said. She sounded less than sure. “Calm down, okay?”

“Calm down?” Lori grabbed Vivian by the shoulders. “Someone’s trying to scare us. Someone’s out to get us.”

Meg’s eyes grew wide. Did she mean everyone or just her and Vivian?

Vivian shook herself free. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?” Lori wobbled a bit and steadied herself against the wall. “You think this is a coincidence? I know what that means. I know what you did.”

“Excuse me?”

“What you did to that girl last year. Everyone knew about it.”

Vivian flinched. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really? Please. You’d stab your own mother in the back to win that competition.”

Gunner leaned into Kumiko. “What’s with the freak-out?”

T.J. shook himself, then stood up slowly. “I think we all need to calm down,” he said. “It’s been a long day and we’re probably all tired. Maybe we should call it a night?”

“I’m getting out of here. First thing in the morning.” Lori stumbled down the hallway. “I’m not staying here with you liars.”

Meg listened to Lori’s staggering footsteps as she ascended the stairs. She’d only seen Lori drink one beer, so she couldn’t be drunk. Was she
that
upset?

As soon as Lori was gone, Vivian dashed down the hall after her without saying a word. Meg was pretty sure she was crying.

“Damn,” Minnie said. “What is wrong with everyone?”

“I’m sharing a room with Lori,” Kumiko said. She sounded genuinely concerned. “I’ll make sure she’s all right.”

“Okay,” T.J. said. “Good.”

No one spoke as they filed out of the living room. No one looked anyone else in the eye. There was zero interest in discussing what they’d just seen.

They trudged up the stairs, single file, like school children marching off for detention. At the second floor, everyone disappeared into their own rooms. The door to Vivian’s room was already closed. At the other end of the hall, Kumiko approached her bedroom door, knocked softly, then entered.

The oppressive silence lingered as Meg and Minnie ascended the stairs to the garret. They didn’t speak while they got into their pajamas, they didn’t speak while they climbed into bed, they didn’t speak as Meg turned off the light.