Page 9

Intrigued, I stepped inside. Ryan was standing in the very back of the pantry, past the boxes of cereal and cans of soup, scrolling or texting or searching on his phone. His glowing screen was the light I’d seen. I took several steps back before he could see me and ran into the door, which somehow slammed shut with my movement. I cursed it for giving me away as Ryan’s eyes snapped up and met mine.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, not sure he heard me, and reached for the door handle to flee the scene.

Except the door wouldn’t budge.

The handle turned, but the door was … stuck? I used my shoulder, pushing hard against the wood but, still, it didn’t move. I could feel myself starting to sweat.

I tried again and again to open the door. Nothing.

This could not be happening.

“Turn the handle and push,” Ryan’s smug voice said from behind me.

I stopped pushing and stepped back, holding out my arm as if to say Have at it.

The only light in the room was from his still-glowing phone. As he stepped forward to try the door, I moved to the wall to locate the light switch. I found it and flipped it on in time to see his arrogant expression change to one of confusion.

“‘Turn the handle and push,’” I said in a mocking voice.

He shoved at the door harder, his feet digging into the floor and then sliding with his effort. “What did you do?” he asked.

“I superglued the door,” I said drily. “Thought it would be a fun experiment.”

He sighed. “No, seriously, did you knock over something outside? It’s not the lock on the handle.” As if to prove his point, he twisted the handle several times.

“I didn’t do anything. I bumped the door. It shut. Now it won’t open.”

“Are you always so clumsy?”

“Are you always such a jerk?”

“Are you always interested in everything I do?” he asked.

“Only when the things you do affect my life.”

He threw his hands in the air. “Affect your life? What have I ever done that affected your life?”

“Stolen our decorations, insulted my parents, existed!”

“Ha!” He let out a surprised laugh. “Me? I’ve stolen your decorations and insulted your parents? I could say the same for you.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Could you? I’ve done none of that.”

“I heard you say our house looks like an airport runway.”

Oh. Had I said that out loud once? I must have. At school maybe? I didn’t think Ryan would have ever heard me, though.

“Is your house your parents now?” I challenged. “You’re right. It probably has the same personality as them.”

His eyes went wide. “You just did it! You just insulted my parents.”

“Yeah, well, that was the first time.” I turned and tried the door again. It still wouldn’t budge. I started knocking, normally at first and then with the side of my fist, loudly. “Hello! Anyone? Help!”

Nothing.

Silence took over between us, making the muffled noises of the party sound louder. I could feel the bass from the speaker vibrating through my feet, Mrs. O’Leary obviously already giving her presentation. She must’ve started with music. No wonder people couldn’t hear my banging. That and we were down the hall on the far side of the kitchen where nobody was.

“Why did you even come in here in the first place?” Ryan asked.