Free Doomed by Tracy Deebs Page B

Plus, Eli’s got that dimple, and I know how you are—”
    “What is that supposed to mean?” I interrupt, insulted. “Theo’s not too
much
for me!”
    “He’s a little intense, Pandora.”
    “I can do intense.”
    “So you
do
want Theo?” Emily says with a grin and an eyebrow wiggle, both of which I ignore.
    “I don’t want either of them! You’re the one who brought up the whole ridiculous subject.”
    Rolling her eyes, she grabs my hand and starts dragging me upstairs. “Come on, girl. You look like hell, and that just won’t do for your first date with Eli.”
    “It’s not a date. It’s
pizza
.”
    “Trust me, the way he was looking at you? It’s definitely a date.”
    Emily bulldozes around any and all of my objections, even going so far as to insist that I change my clothes. I start to argue, but there’s no winning when she gets like this. And besides, it’s nice to spend a few minutes doing something normal—or, at least, normal for her—instead of freaking out about that stupid game.
    About what’s going to happen next.
    By the time Emily’s satisfied with my appearance, the shell-shocked-survivor look is gone. My choppy haircut has been ruthlessly tamed into submission, and even I have to admit that the shimmery purple tank top Emily found at the back of the closet looks great on me.
    “So, are you still determined to go to Little Nicky’s for your birthday?” she asks as we head downstairs, my backpack filled with extra clothes slung over my shoulder. “Or can we try somewhere a little more sophisticated?”
    “I want pizza.”
    “Of course you do.”
    We start to settle on the couch to talk—it’s not like there’s anything else to do right now—but then the doorbell rings. It’s Eli, and he’s changed as well. His wild hair is tamed a little, and he’s pulled on a cool South By Southwest T-shirt. It makes me smile, because I have the same one upstairs in my room.
    He grins when he sees me. “Hey, you look great!”
    “Uh, thanks.” I’m not sure what else to say, because the way he’s looking at me is so flirtatious that my breath catches in my rib cage. Which is stupid. And all Emily’s fault. If she hadn’t gone on and on about him, everything would be like it was earlier instead of my practically swallowing my tongue while trying to make conversation with him.
    “Theo’s in the car. Are you ready to go?”
    “Sure.” I slide my laptop into my backpack with the rest of the stuff I packed, and then sling it over my shoulder, ready to go straight to Emily’s house once dinner is finished and the guys drop us off. My own feels kind of strange now. Haunted, almost.
    I lock up, then we climb into Theo’s fully loaded Range Rover (could he get a little more yuppie-in-training?)—Eli and me in the back, Emily in the front—and head toward the shopping and restaurant area where Little Nicky’s makesits home. The three of them talk about Pandora’s Box and school and a bunch of other stuff, but I don’t participate. Though it’s my birthday, I’m tired and my head hurts and I just don’t have it in me to try to keep up.
    I kind of drift along for the fifteen-minute ride, letting their voices soothe me in a way their words never could. In the back of my head is the worry about where this game will end. About how bad things are going to get before they get better. I try to comfort myself with the knowledge that Emily’s dad is working on Pandora’s Box. Like she said, he’s one of the best there is—surely he’ll figure out a way to fix everything.
    I rouse myself when Theo pulls into the Little Nicky’s parking lot. It’s packed, as usual, but he manages to snag a spot in the very back. We walk, paired up, toward the pizza place, and for a minute I can almost forget everything else that’s going on.
    It’s a beautiful night, not too warm, not too cold. The leaves are finally beginning to change color and fall off the trees. We crunch some beneath our