Free Need by Joelle Charbonneau

family room. Careful not to step on the creaky middle floorboard, I go to the kitchen, grab two sodas, and hurry back up to my room. Bullet dodged.
    Nate’s finishing a call when I walk in. “Amanda is definitely in the hospital. She had an allergic reaction to peanuts, went into some kind of shock, and hit her head when she passed out and fell. Her mother found her unconscious in the kitchen and called the paramedics.”
    That sounds bad. “But she’s going to be okay, right?”
    Nate shrugs. “The last Megan heard, Amanda is still unconscious, but it sounds like the doctors are optimistic. She promised to keep me posted.” After putting his phone away, Nate slips his arm through mine and says, “While we wait for news, why don’t I get DJ to come out of his room so we can start movie night.” He picks up his drink and flashes a smile that makes the dark cloud over this day fade. “You didn’t think I was going to let you off the zombie and slasher hook that easy, did you? Let’s get this party started.”

Ethan
    F INALLY . C ONFIRMATION that Ethan has fulfilled his part of the bargain with NEED. His computer will be delivered tomorrow. All Ethan has to do now is make sure the shed out back is unlocked. Which is perfect, since he can wait until his parents go out before retrieving the box. The fewer questions his mom and dad ask, the better. And by this time tomorrow, he’ll be dodging assassins and taking out targets in high def. It’s too bad the computer isn’t going to arrive tonight. Because his current one has already crashed twice. And right in the middle of a level. Which blows wide.
    Normally, he’d be really pissed at having to start the level over. Today, he doesn’t mind so much. The new computer is part of it. But for the first time, lighting up enemy targets and knifing people in the back aren’t that exciting. Because they aren’t real. This morning—digging the hole, running to avoid being caught, and sneaking back inside his house without making a sound—he had a chance to be like the characters he loves. He’d been given a mission and he had carried it out.
    Just thinking about it gives him a massive rush. Was he scared when Kaylee yelled and started to chase him? Hell, yeah. But that’s okay. Being scared is part of the deal. The mercenary trainer says that those with no fear are the ones who get sloppy. Sloppy means you get dead or get caught. He was neither, which means he won the level. The thrill of success gave him a buzz that lasted most of the day. When his friend Logan Shepens called and told him his father had to go out early because of a vandalism report, it was hard to separate fear from excitement. What an awesome high. He didn’t know a person could feel that alive.
    Only now, the high is gone and the game he’s playing online doesn’t seem that interesting. Not when he knows how much more exciting it is to perform missions for real.
    Ethan tries to concentrate on the target on his screen, but gives up, shuts down the game mid-level, and logs on to NEED. When he gets to the request page, he rereads the prompt and frowns. What should he ask for this time? He could request computer software or maybe a new iPod, but that isn’t what he really wants. No. Those things are ordinary. Boring. And he is done with boring. He’s been boring all his life. People expect him to be boring. Hell, he expects himself to be dull and uninteresting. But he doesn’t want to be. He wants the rush he felt today. He wants the excitement of being a real-life Mercenary of War. He wants to be interesting and different, just like his characters. No . . . he doesn’t just want it. He needs it. But what the hell can he ask for that will give him that?
    He turns the problem over in his head for several minutes. Then he types:
I need another mission. The more dangerous the better.
    Honesty is