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I guess he’s not so sad after all.

“Yes, this game is old and cheesy but not the way I run it,” Evelyn said, tearing strips of paper lengthwise. “If your name is picked, you go in. Then we pick someone who joins you in the dark.” She grinned slyly. “I’ll leave it up to you to decide how to figure out who. When time’s up, you leave, but that person stays in the closet, and another name is picked. You get it? Like a chain. If you’re not picked to go in, you drink!”

The group voiced their approval.

“This is a woke version of Seven Minutes in Heaven,” Evelyn continued, writing our names on the strips of paper. “That means I don’t give a fuck if you’re a guy and get paired with another guy, or girl with a girl. You go in and get to know each other.” She grinned again. “How well you get to know each other is up to you. Someone have a timer?”

“Yes, my queen,” Holden said and jerked his arm from his sleeve to reveal a Philip Patek watch. I recognized the crazy-expensive brand since my dad had one too.

Evelyn unfolded a piece of paper. “Up first…Violet McNamara.” She leaned into me. “I got you, girl.”

I sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. Out of the corner of my eye, I found Miller watching me again, his expression stony, his mouth a grim line. Suddenly, I felt as if I was getting up in front of a firing squad. Guilt assailed me, and I froze for a second, trying to sort through a strange tangle of emotion.

Then Evelyn nudged me, and I headed to the closet.

Inside, I felt my way along a wall of Mr. and Mrs. Blaylock’s collection of spare towels, sheets, and fabric softener, and sat down on the carpet. A few tense, nerve-wracking moments later, the door opened and a huge shape filled the dimness. The scent of woodsy cologne filled the space as River shut the door, cutting the party noise in half.

“Violet?”

“I’m over here.”

“It’s dark as shit…” River’s bulky shadow made its way across from me, and he sat against the opposite wall. A silence fell.

“This is a crazy party, huh?” I said as our seven minutes began to tick down. “That Holden is a strange guy.”

“Uh. Yeah.” River coughed. “He’s fucking weird. Reminds me of that vampire, Lestat.”

“Oh my God, I said almost the exact same thing, different vampire. I didn’t know you read Anne Rice.”

“I don’t. Saw the movie. I mean…my mom watched it once. I remember some of it, I guess.”

“Okay.”

Another silence fell, and the awkwardness between us grew. I wanted to ask how he was holding up with his mom being ill, but he probably needed the party to escape for a little bit, so I defaulted to sports.

“How are football practices going?”

“Good. Long. You play a sport too, right?”

“Soccer. We don’t start until spring.”

“Cool.”

More silence. This conversation was like an engine that wouldn’t turn over.

“So, Violet.”

“So, River.”

“Homecoming dance is in a few weeks.”

My heart took off. Finally. “Yes.”

“Are you going with anyone?”

“Nope!” I blurted and then pinched myself on the arm, marveling that after months of hanging out with Evelyn, not one of her flirting skills had rubbed off on me.

“Cool. So…would you like to go with me?”


Tags: Emma Scott Lost Boys Romance