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“PLEASE DON’T MAKE ME do this,” I begged my three older brothers.

Leo handed me my mask. “You lost, loser. And you wear the cape.”

Paulie shoved a green bundle of fabric into my arms. I stood there, clutching it to my chest in the empty Pancake Disco parking lot. It was almost 6:00 a.m. Opening time in five minutes. This could not be fucking happening.

“What is even the theme here?” I asked. “I don’t get this costume.”

Simon laughed. “You don’t need to get it, you just need to wear it.”

Leo was cracking up.

It was a Santa suit. A cheap one. Red fabric, the kind that made you sweat. There was a thin, black pleather belt with a shiny gold buckle across the belly and white fake fur trim that ran down the middle and along the bottom, paired with a green cape for some reason. But the mask was the weirdest part of all. A gory, puke-green rubber zombie face from the nose up, with an elastic band that wrapped around your head to hold it on.

“Where the heck did you get this crap?” I asked.

“Don’t worry about it—it’s clean,” Simon said. “Probably.”

They all snickered.

“Jeremy would never do this to me,” I said.

“You did this to yourself, bro.” Paulie smacked me on the shoulder. “Open to close, you sit in a booth. You can’t leave and you can’t take off any of the costume or you owe us each five hundred bucks.”

“Five hundred—that’s fifteen hundred dollars!”

“We know,” Simon said. “Next time don’t make bad bets, idiot. Suit up, they open in two minutes.”

I peered forlornly at the diner. Multicolored Christmas lights festooned the windows overlooking the parking lot. I think Jeremy used to come here with his girlfriend’s family back in the day, but I’d never been. It looked like the kind of truck stop place that would have condom dispensers in the bathroom.

At least my brothers hadn’t picked somewhere fancy.

I let out a deep breath and put the mask on. It smelled like cheap rubber. I could barely see out of the eye holes. At least the bottom half was open so I could eat, thank God.

Paulie made a spectacle of putting the cape on for me. Then they stood in front of me, surveying their work.

“We’re geniuses,” Paulie said. “No notes.”

I rolled my eyes.

Simon took a picture.

“I’ll tell you what,” Leo said, rubbing his hands together like a Disney villain. “How about we make a new deal?”

I looked at him skeptically. “What?”

“For every five pancakes you eat, you can take an hour off your time.”

“They have to be full-sized pancakes, though,” Simon said.

“One,” I said.

“Four,” Leo countered.

“Three,” I said.

They looked at each other. Simon shrugged.

“Fine,” Paulie said. “Three.”