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“No way,” I say, wanting to run from the room.
“Why not?” Julian asks me. The way he says it doesn’t indicate he wants to play, but more that he’s trying to understand me. I don’t want to answer him.
“Tell us,” Stacey insists. “Why don’t you want to play?”
I groan. “For starters, it’s a college game that I’ve never been interested in.”
“You didn’t even go to college,” Stacey says, and I level her with a glare.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound rude,” she says, reticent.
“You’re right. I didn’t, and the constant reminders of all that I missed out on only hurt more,” I admit. “Games make me feel isolated from others my age. I never got to be a kid, and sometimes that reality stings.”
“I’m in,” Julian says, and I scowl in his direction.
Traitor.
Stacey claps her hands in excitement, while I mumble all the ways I’m going to kill her myself tonight.
“It’s just a game, Marina. Maybe by playing you’ll see you aren’t missing out on much,” Julian says with a smile.
Stacey harrumphs.
“How do you play?” Julian asks Stacey.
“One of us starts by saying something they’ve never done before. If you have done it, you put up a finger and take a drink of whatever your poison of the night is. If you haven’t, you don’t do anything. The last person to put up four fingers wins.”
“Marina doesn’t drink,” Julian points out, and I can’t help but smile at his thoughtfulness.
“She doesn’t have to,” Stacey says, grabbing her own glass full of red wine.
“Thank you,” I mouth to Julian, and he smiles.
“What are we betting?” Julian asks with a raised brow.
“Whoever wins... gets to leave the estate with you on a date.”
My eyes go wide in shock at her suggestion.
“What?” I screech. “A date?”
Stacey rolls her eyes. “A dinner date off the premises.”
My head snaps to Julian’s, eager to see his reaction. He’s stone-faced.
“Is that even safe?” I question, based on all the times Julian has alluded to my not being safe outside of these walls.
“With precautions, a quick trip into New Orleans would be fine,” he admits.
“Does that mean you’re game?” Stacey presses.
He’s silent for a moment.
“Can I trust that whichever of you wins, you won’t try to run off?”
Stacey and I exchange glances.
“Promise,” we say in unison.
