Chapter 3

"I'm not going to the party, Sarah," I said, my voice firm.

Her smile didn't waver. "Suit yourself, Alex. More Brad for me, then."

I found Tiffany by the bleachers, gushing with her friends.

"Tiff," I said, pulling her aside. "About this party. I don't think it's a good idea."

She scoffed. "Here we go again. Alex, you're such a buzzkill. It's Brad Thompson's party! Everyone who's anyone will be there."

"I'm serious, Tiffany. Things could get out of hand."

"You're just jealous because Brad's the King and you're... well, you," she said, flipping her ponytail. "If you're going to be like this, then maybe we're on a break. I'm going to that party, with or without you."

"A break? Over a party?"

"Over you trying to control me!" she snapped. "I want to have fun!"

Fine. If she wanted to walk into disaster, I couldn't physically stop her. Not this time.

Later, in the hallway, Brad cornered me. His jock buddies flanked him.

"Heard you're not coming to my party, nerd," Brad said, sneering. "Too good for us?"

"I just have other plans," I said, trying to keep my voice even.

"Other plans?" He laughed. "Like what? Debugging your Tamagotchi?"

His friends snickered.

"Look, Brad, I just don't want any trouble."

"Trouble?" His eyes narrowed. "You thinking of calling the cops, Alex? Ruining everyone's fun?"

The thought had crossed my mind. An anonymous tip.

"No," I lied. "I just don't like big parties."

"Well, that's too bad," Brad said, his smile turning predatory. "Because you see, I don't like killjoys. And I especially don't like people who might rat us out."

He nodded to his friends. "Make sure Alex comes to the party. We need to loosen him up."

One of them, a hulking lineman named Duke, grinned. "Our pleasure, King."

I tried to back away, but they grabbed my arms.

"Let go of me!"

"Relax, Alex," Brad said. "We're just gonna make sure you don't miss out on the best night of your life."

They started dragging me towards the parking lot.

My stomach churned. This was not how I envisioned my second chance playing out.

Forced into the heart of the storm.

As they manhandled me into a car, I saw Sarah watching from the school steps.

Her expression was unreadable. Not pity. Not concern.

Something calculating.

She knew this would happen. Maybe she even counted on it.

If I was at the party, under Brad's watch, I couldn't call the authorities.

Her path to Brad would be clear.

The car sped off, Brad's laughter echoing in my ears.

I was a prisoner, heading straight back to the scene of my future, or past, demise.

Tiffany wanted her fun. Sarah wanted Brad. Brad wanted control.

And I just wanted to survive.