tell me what to expect at the bonfire.
“Don’t eat any of the food,” she said as she handed a customer his hot dog. “Not even joking. Eat before you go. And don’t drink anything.”
Well, that certainly wouldn’t be a problem. I almost thanked Theo for giving me an excuse to be paranoid about the food.
“Why? Does she poison it?”
“There’s no guaranteeing that someone won’t try to slip you a roofie.” Theo turned to refill the popcorn machine. “You’ll be fine. Don’t eat or drink; stay inconspicuous.”
So my normal routine, then.
“Oh, and don’t go upstairs,” Theo added.
“Why would I go upstairs?”
“Just don’t do it, okay?”
“All right, fine.”
“Anyway, everyone only goes to these parties to deface the fake scoreboard and get stories about crazy stuff. Celia’s parties make better stories than Celia does.”
Crazy stuff happening at parties with roofies and questionable upstairs goings-on didn’t make me feel very good about the whole thing, but if I tried to back out now, my mother and my therapist would be on me like hounds. There was pretty much no way I wasn’t going.
“FUCK IT, I’M BORED.”
“Here he comes.” Theo didn’t even look up when Miles rounded the corner and tossed his notebook onto thecounter. “I don’t think cursing is going to help,” she told him.
“Maybe it fucking will.” Miles seethed. “I hate everyone in that gym. Pick someone.”
“No, I don’t want to play.”
“It won’t take that long.”
“That’s why I don’t want to play.”
“Can I do one?” I raised my hand. “It might actually take you more than five questions, too.”
Miles quirked his eyebrow. “Oh, you think so?”
“If you get this in five, I’ll be thoroughly impressed.”
He leaned over the counter, looking eager. Weirdly, weirdly eager. Not like he wanted to rub my face into the floor. Not like he knew he was going to beat me. Just . . . excited. “Okay,” he said. “Are you fictional?”
Broad question. He didn’t know me as well as he knew Theo, so it was to be expected.
“No,” I said.
“Are you still alive?”
“No.”
“Are you a leader?”
“Yes.”
“Was your civilization conquered by a European nation?”
“Yes.”
“Are you . . . a leader of the Olmec?”
“How’d you get there ?” Theo blurted out, but Miles ignored her.
“No,” I said, trying not to let him see how close he’d come. “And the Olmec weren’t conquered by the Europeans. They died out.”
Miles frowned. “Mayan?”
“No.”
“Incan.”
“No.”
“Aztec.”
“Yes.”
The corners of his lips twisted up, but he said, “Shouldn’t have taken so many guesses for that one.” Then he said, “Did you found the Tlatocan?”
“No.”
“Did you reign after 1500?”
“No.”
Theo watched the conversation like a tennis match.
“Are you Ahuitzotl?”
“No.” I smiled. This kid knew his history.
“Tizoc?”
“No.”
“Axayacatl?”
“No.”
“Moctezuma I?”
“Nope.”
“Itzcoatl?”
“No.”
“Chimalpopoca?”
“No.”
“Huitzilihuitl?”
“What the hell are you saying?” Theo cried.
He’d cut off a chunk of the Aztec emperors and whittled them down until there was only one remaining. But now he had three questions left—two he didn’t need.
Why hadn’t he cut it down again? Surely he could have shortened his options and not guessed his way through all the emperors. Was this some kind of test? Or was . . . was he showing off?
“You’re Acamapichtli.”
There was a fanatical gleam in his eye, another smile playing on his lips. Both were gone as soon as I said, “Almost twenty. Not quite, but I almost had you.”
“I’m never playing this game again,” said Theo, sighing and returning to her homework.
The little boy from the lobster tank disappeared from Miles’s face.
Why did he invite me?
Most likely
I wish you could say more than yes or no.
Chapter Fourteen
C harlie