PAST…

“Calder Reese asked me to prom,” I announce happily as I enter the Seascape Grill.

Chloe looks up sharply. “He did? You?”

I don’t notice the way her eyes have narrowed. “I keep pinching myself.” I’ve had a crush on Calder Reese for more than two years, but I didn’t think he even knew I existed. Calder is the quarterback of the football team, and he can have anyone he wants. Ever since he broke up with Dana Evers two months ago, every single girl in school has been breathless with anticipation, wondering who he’s going to take to the dance.

Chloe’s on the cheerleading squad, but I’m just her poor sort-of-sister. The one with the torn backpack and the hand-me-down clothes. There’s nothing interesting or special about me, nothing that would cause the most popular boy in high school to take note.

“Why you?” Chloe snarls. “What does he see in someone as drab and mousy as you?” Her lips tighten. “This is all because of Mr. Hershmann and his stupid system.”

At the start of the senior year, Mr. Hershmann, who taught us chemistry, had announced that he wasn’t going to allow us to select our own lab partners. He’d read off his roster, paired the students alphabetically. Through pure chance, Calder Reese got paired with Felicity Rollins.

And now, I’m going to prom with him. It still doesn’t feel real.

“I have a headache,” Chloe announces, taking off her hair net and flinging it on the counter. She gives me a challenging look. “I don’t think I can work. Felicity can cover my shift, can’t she, mom?”

“I have plans,” I say indignantly. “I have homework. I was supposed to be done by eight.”

Priscilla Bernard has never once sided with me against her daughter. True to form, she pats Chloe on the back. “Take an aspirin and go to bed, honey,” she says, her voice sympathetic. “I’ll come up and check on you during my breaks.”

She turns to me, her expression hard. “Your cousin isn’t well, and you don’t seem to care,” she says coolly. “Once again, you’re just thinking about yourself. After everything we’ve done for you. I’m disappointed by your attitude, Felicity.”

I bite my lip to keep myself from replying. After all these years, I should know better than to argue. “Fine,” I mutter. “I’ll work the shift.” Six hours in front of the deep-fryer, and there’s no shampoo strong enough to get the smell of grease out of my hair. Sigh.

Giving me a sly smile and a wink, Chloe walks out of the kitchen. It doesn’t matter, I tell myself. Calder Reese asked you to the prom.

I hug that thought to myself all evening long. My mother died when I was born. I’d been an accident, and my father wasn’t ready to shoulder the responsibility of raising a baby alone. When I was two, he’d left me with his sister Priscilla and her husband Fred, and he’d taken off to become an actor in Los Angeles.

He’s never once called me, written to me, or emailed me. My aunt and uncle, angry and resentful about taking care of another child, treat me like help. I work five evenings a week in the family restaurant, but I don’t get paid a salary. Wages? My aunt had said once, her expression shocked. We took you in and gave you a home, and you want to be paid for helping your family?

Calder Reese asked me to prom. In the unending gray of my life, it’s the one bright spot.

Until Chloe ruins it. Two days later, Calder comes up to me in chemistry, his shoulders stiff, his eyes sliding away from me. “Umm, I have to cancel on you, Felicity,” he murmurs. “I’m seeing Chloe now.”

“You are?” I stare at him, sick to my stomach. But I’m in love with you, Calder.

He can’t look at me. “Aww, Felicity. Be cool. No harm done, right? We were just buddies.”

“I gave him a blowjob in the men’s locker room,” Chloe shrugs when I confront her about it. “Oops.” She tilts her head to one side and gives me a sympathetic look. “I was doing you a favor, Felicity. You should thank me. You didn’t think you could actually go to prom, did you? Where the hell were you going to get money to buy a dress? Or were you planning to attend in your torn jeans and too-large sweatshirt?”

I bite my lip so hard I draw blood. I did this. I liked Calder, and worse, I’d let Chloe see that I was happy. My feelings had given her a weapon.

I wanted something. I should have known better.

Emotions are weakness. Standing up for yourself is a fool’s game.

“You’re right,” I say through stiff lips. “Besides, Aunt Priscilla will probably want me to work that night.”

She smiles, twisting the knife a little more. Chloe’s frighteningly good at that. “I’m sure she will,” she agrees. “I suggested to my friends that we meet at the Seaside Grill for appetizers before we head to the dance.”

Of course you did, I think bitterly. I take a deep breath and form a coating of ice over my heart. Thank you, Chloe. You’ve taught me a very important lesson. I can’t be hurt if I don’t care.

* * *

PRESENT…

Truth or dare is a dangerous game, especially with so much on the line.

Truth: I love them.

Truth: If they ever find out how damaged I am, how insecure, how flawed, they’re going to want nothing to do with me.

Truth: I might be pregnant.

Truth: If they lie to me, if they pretend that the conversation I overheard never happened, then I will shatter, and I will never trust them again.

Truth: Even after everything, I miss their touch. I miss their warmth. I miss the feeling of their hard bodies against mine.

Any moment now, a sea of detsena is going to overrun the ground. The crazy crab-like creatures that live underground during the day and emerge at night eat everything in sight. We need to take shelter before that happens.

I told myself I’d try for the sake of the baby. But can I? Lud’s words hang in the air. At the end, if you hate me, I will understand, and I will leave.

“This is your house as much as it is mine,” I whisper. “If you want to stay, then stay.”

Xan meets my eyes steadily. “Are you asking me what I choose, Felicity?”

I swallow hard.

“Because there’s never any doubt. I choose you.”

At those words, I feel a small flare of hope in my heart, and it makes me foolish. “Yes,” I say to Lud, who’s still waiting for me to answer his question. “One week. I’ll play.”