Page 63 of Kiss Slay Replay

“They’re coming with the van.”

“Who?”

“Luke, Cassie, Evan, Wyatt. Tanya.” Hearing him say her name is an electrocution. “They should be here by now.”

“What about Jace? Steph?” Danny asks. He doesn’t sound good, scuffling for every breath.

“They’re fine,” Ravi says. I catch his eye and can tell that he’s lying, but what’s the point of delivering that blow to Danny, who might not survive long enough to validate? “The birds got in through the windows. We tried to take cover, hide under tables, but there was glass everywhere. Then there was blood everywhere. Then…”

“What? Then what?”

He shakes his head and checks out the window again, steps to the side trying to get a better view.

“Willa,” Danny whispers, tapping my leg. “Who is that?”

“Ravi,” I say. “He’s…he’s a friend.”

Ravi snorts.

“Really?” I ask him.

He won’t look at me, won’t turn away from the window.

“All right. We’re not friends,” I say to Danny. “He’s my ex.”

“Ah,” Danny says, still in a whisper.

“Yeah,” I say to Danny. Then to Ravi, “Why did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Make that noise when I said we were friends?”

“I…” He pauses. “Let’s not.”

I shouldn’t say it, but what does it matter if none of this is real. “Why are you so angry at me, Ravi? I don’t understand. You avoided me all night. And you…you brought a fucking date.”

“You told me to move on. I did.”

“Whoa,” Danny says. “Sorry, but I—”

“I’m not angry, Willa. I came here to find you.”

“All right, so you’re not angry enough to leave me for dead. That doesn’t mean you aren’t angry. Why can’t you just admit it?”

He gives me a look of sheer disgust that buries me in shame. “I’m not doing this right now. People are dead out there.”

“Dead?” Danny asks. “What do you mean? Who’s dead?”

“Fuck. We can’t just wait around. We need to get him to a doctor. Help me get him up.” He crosses over to Danny, leans down, slips his shoulder under Danny’s arm, and lifts.

Danny screams in anguish. A spray of treacly black spittle shoots out of his mouth, a glob landing on Ravi’s cheek, some in his eye.

“Can you put weight on your legs?” Ravi asks him, diplomatically not acknowledging the spit. He tries to blink out the black goo. It’s stuck in his eyelashes.

“Yeah. Yeah,” Danny says, gritting his teeth. “I got it.”

He attempts to stand on his own, but his balance is off. He teeters, and I catch him, wrap my arms around his waist.