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Cake, Fire, Kiss, or Truth
Laurel
It takes about forty-five minutes before Briar sees the last of her “B-list” guests off and rounds up her remaining entourage. The wait does nothing to help me simmer down. Someone might as well have come and subbed me with a different person. Sitting on a blanket on the lawn, I keep seething, every word of my fight with Jace replaying in my mind. I also haven’t stopped eating. It’s that or throw food at the object of my rage.
Hal crouches beside me and offers me my jacket. “I get the feeling you’d feel more comfortable fuming in your own clothes.”
“I love you.” I swap Jace’s hoodie for my familiar jacket and stick another piece of sushi into my mouth.
“Do you want to go home?”
“What happened to the whole stay-until-midnight?”
Hal chuckles. “Don’t take this wrong, okay? But I’m happy to see you like this. I forgot you can spearhead an attack, not just avoid it.”
“That’s why I’m not going home,” I reply through another mouthful of food. Tonight, I’ll bleed if I have to. Hiding isn’t the only thing I’m capable of. “Are you playing Briar’s games?”
“No.” Hal pilfers one of my snacks. “Neither should you.”
Truth be told, I agree with him, but I won’t back out. I won’t.
“Laurel!” Briar appears on the edge of the patio.
“Here we go, I suppose,” I mutter and go to meet my doom. I’ll have to play with Jace, whatever the games entail. At the very least, I’ll have to talk to him again, but all I want to do is punch him. He’s so full of himself. He’s got it all under control, and the rest of us are cowards. I don’t even remember what it was that attracted me to him. Many comfortable evenings notwithstanding, tonight has proven that Jace and I don’t work together. We may do well as artists, but we’re a disaster as a couple.
So, naturally, here I am, looking right at him as we’re about to engage in who knows what.
Briar’s friends gather on the patio. Some claim various lounge chairs on the edge of the lawn, the rest sit on cushions and folded blankets in a circle in the middle. Only one spot remains—for me, right next to Jace.
“It’s not too late to change your mind,” he says.
“Go ahead,” I reply because what I heard wasIt’s not too late to run away.
His friends jeer. I smile and claim the last spot. Jace’s whole band has stayed, and all the guys from Project Viper. They each have a girl with them, but only Marshall and Alexandra, the singer and the bassist, are in the circle. Both raven-haired and striking, they’re an embodiment of a cozy relationship—arms linked, knees touching, watching what’s happening around them with the same scheming gleam in their eyes. So different from what Jace and I have become.
It occurs to me that Jace could’ve left a long time ago. He doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to, which means he wants to do this with me. Because despite everything he still likes me? Or is it because he’s just as angry as I am, and he wants to make me suffer?
Briar claps her hands and bumps her shoulder into Link’s. He offers her a small metal bucket full of popsicle sticks.
“For the uninitiated.” Her eyes travel around the circle. The fact that I’m not the only new person to this madness brings me a crumb of relief. “This bucket contains four types of prompts. On your turn, you take one without looking, and here’s the twist. The prompt you get is what your date has to do. Say I draw the cake prompt, it means that I get to choose whether I let Link eat cake or smash it on his face.” She points to the middle of the circle where at least three dozen small paper plates with cubes of heavily creamed cake await their tragic destiny.
Okay, okay. This could be fun. I hope I draw many cake prompts.
“What are the rest of the prompts?” Alexandra asks, and Marshall grins in a way that leaves no doubt he knows them already.
Briar explains, “Cake, fire, kiss, and truth.”
“So if I draw a kiss…” Alexandra starts.
“Then I…” Marshall takes her chin with his fingers and leans in for a kiss.
“Not yet! Not yet!” Briar chides him. “If Alexandra drew a kiss, she could also make you kiss someone else.”
“Please don’t,” Marshall requests, batting eyelashes at his other half.
In my mind, spitefulness and madness get behind the wheel. “If he has to kiss someone besides Alexandra, I volunteer.”
Everyone whoops. Not Jace. He lifts an outraged eyebrow. His eyes, all the more threatening thanks to the eyeliner, promise to shred me into ribbons as he declares, “Kiss anyone you want but the snakes.”
