Truth or Dare (16 page)

Sydney watched as several lanterns gathered above them, casting a soft glow over Guinness. “People in town are definitely starting to get worried,” she said slowly. “Like Fall Festival is going to bring back the curse or something.”

“And
you
believe that?” Guinness asked, raising his eyebrows.

Sydney smacked him playfully. “Of course not,” she said. “But you’ve got to admit it is a good ghost story.” She leaned closer to him, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Just think, next weekend any girl at all could be taken by the ocean… as long as she’s young, rich, and beautiful, of course.”

Guinness let out an exaggerated shudder. “Creepy,” he said, wrapping his arm around her.

“I’m safe, of course,” Sydney said. “I’m not rich.”

“But you are beautiful,” Guinness said. Then he bent down and kissed her neck and all thoughts of the Lost Girls—and everything else—flew right out of her mind.

By the time Sydney got in her car, she couldn’t stop smiling. Before she left, she’d given Guinness some of the photos from her
Fissures
series and asked him to take a look. He’d promised he would, and as Sydney stopped by Bella Pizza to pick up a pie for herself and her mom, she kept thinking about what he might say about them. After her shoot
this morning, she was pretty sure the series was finally coming together. If Guinness agreed, she might finally have a portfolio for her college applications.

She was still thinking about her photos when she got back to her apartment, absently grabbing a slice of pizza out of the box. The cheese was dripping off and, as she quickly took a bite to save it, something inside the box caught her eye. It was a note, taped onto the lid. Sydney’s heart sped up as she yanked it off. It was typed in the same typewriter font as the ones she’d received yesterday.

I dare you to come to the Seagull Inn at 10:00 p.m. on Tuesday, room 147. I promise the experience will be very educational. And if you don’t? Then I’ll make sure all of Winslow knows where
else
you’ve been educated… straitjacket and all.

Sydney took a step back, as though the note might come alive and bite her. Straitjacket and all? The note had to be referring to Sunrise. That meant Guinness
must
be responsible.

She thought back to their night together. She had mentioned that she was going to stop at Bella Pizza on her way home. Had he somehow managed to sneak the note onto the box without her noticing? The note wasn’t exactly sweet, though. In fact, it sounded very much like a threat.

She sat down, reading it over again. It had to be Guinness. Just playing around. Even if he hadn’t sent her the first two notes, he could easily have used them as inspiration. He probably thought he was being all cute, sneakily arranging a tryst for them at the Seagull Inn. And
really, the whole straitjacket thing
could
just be a joke. He always did have a slightly twisted sense of humor. Grabbing her phone, she quickly typed out a text.
Okay, tell the truth: what’s with the dares?

When her phone dinged, she reached for it immediately.
More dares? Is this some game u and ur friends are playing, Blue? I didn’t realize our age gap was THAT big….

Sydney stared at the phone, heat rising to her cheeks. She’d always prided herself on acting just as old as Guinness, despite their five-year age difference. She shoved the phone angrily into her pocket. He could be such a jackass. Or… it occurred to her suddenly that maybe he was still playing around, teasing her. Keeping up the mystique. She grabbed another slice of pizza, thinking about it as she took a bite.

There was really only one way to find out. She was going to have to take the dare.

Monday, 7:46
PM

I’VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT IT A LOT, CAIT, AND WE
have to do something about Sydney.” Tenley was staring at Caitlin over her chai espresso, tiny spirals of steam rising out of her mug. Behind her, an inscribed driftwood sign hung in the window:
BEAN ENCOUNTERS
. She and Tenley were squeezing in a quick coffee date before Tenley’s family dinner. “Remember those photos she gave me?” Tenley went on. “Well, there was another note typed on the back of one of them! And she was meeting a
friend
?” Tenley air-quoted on
friend
, before taking a sip of her coffee. “Unless her friend was imaginary, I’m pretty sure that was a lie. We were the only ones there! I bet she was just there to see if we took the bait.”

“Maybe she got stood up,” Caitlin offered. The door to Bean Encounters swung open with a loud creak and Caitlin jumped a little, her heart picking up speed in her chest. As a group of Winslow sophomores pushed into the coffee shop, she took a deep breath, forcing
herself to calm down. Ever since last night, when she found out that Tenley hadn’t sent her that dare, Caitlin had been feeling jumpy.

The sophomores waved eagerly at Caitlin as they passed by her table. She forced a wave back, cracking a pained smile. What she couldn’t understand was why someone would have wanted her on that yacht last night. An image of Hunter, his face panicked and angry, flashed through Caitlin’s mind, and she quickly pushed it away. She wished she could talk about it with someone, but she wasn’t about to betray Hunter. It had to be terrible to live a lie like that; if he felt he had to keep up appearances, he must have a pretty strong reason. So when Tenley and Emerson had asked, she’d lied and told them both that the
Blue Ribbon
had been empty.

“Maybe,” Tenley said, sounding doubtful. “But what about the fact that she gave me those photos? Right around midnight—which is when the dare said I should be there.”

“It is weird,” Caitlin admitted. She took a sip of her extra-large coffee. “But why would Sydney Morgan be sending us crazy notes? I’ve gone to school with her forever, Ten. She’s quiet, I guess, but she seems sweet.”

Tenley fiddled with her mug, making the gold bangles on her wrist cling together. “Think about it, Cait. She’s a loner, always has been. Aren’t those the ones you have to watch out for?”

As Tenley continued to speculate, Caitlin felt herself zoning out. She didn’t mean to, but the amount of sleep she’d gotten last night—or to be more accurate,
hadn’t
gotten—was starting to catch up with her. She’d woken up three times from a nightmare. Each time, the image of that painted steel train had been fresh in her mind.

“Cait!” Tenley reached over and grabbed Caitlin’s arm. “Am I really that boring?”

“Sorry, Ten. I was just thinking.” She looked up, meeting Tenley’s chocolate-brown eyes. For a brief second, she considered telling her about the nightmares. She would have when they were younger. Tenley used to know everything about her, even the crazy stuff. Like how, after the kidnapping, she could only sleep if all her stuffed animals were lined up against her bedroom door, a barricade to the outside world, or how sometimes she worried that she loved Sailor more than her mom, or how, when no one else was home, she liked to pour Sour Patch Kids into her Wheaties.

But when she thought of all the questions Tenley would have, and where they would all lead back to, it made her even more tired. “I was just thinking about the dares,” she said instead. “Anyone we played with Saturday night could have thought it would be fun to keep the game going.”

Tenley shook her head, making her dark waves tumble over her shoulders. “Whose idea of fun is
that
?” she asked softly. A chill ran through Caitlin. It was a good question. “No,” Tenley said firmly. “I think it was Sydney.”

Caitlin shifted nervously in her seat. This whole thing kept reminding her of her kidnapping. She remembered how sure the cops had been that Jack Hudson was her kidnapper—and how off the whole thing had felt to her. She’d kept her doubts to herself, and then, days later, Jack was dead. “Let’s not go making any accusations just yet,” she said.

“Hey.” Tenley put a hand on her arm, looking concerned. “You okay?”

Caitlin paused to take a sip of her coffee. “Yeah. I’ve just… had enough dare talk for the day, I think.” She gave Tenley a weak smile. “Can we talk about something more fun?”

Tenley eyed her curiously, but then leaned back in her chair, breaking into a bright smile. “Fun I can do,” she declared. She tapped her fingers against the table, narrowing her eyes coyly. “Okay, Cait the Great, here’s what I want to know. Are there really no guys in your life—or”—she giggled—“your
bed
? None at all?”

“Ten!” Caitlin smacked Tenley playfully on the arm, pretending to be annoyed. “No, no guys
anywhere
.”

Tenley shook her head. “Same old Angel. And here I thought after Vegas that you’d picked up a wild streak….”

Caitlin swallowed hard. She wondered if Tenley knew just how blurry that night in Vegas was for her. She remembered the beginning: swigging from a water bottle filled with vodka in their hotel room, Tenley getting them into a club even though you were supposed to be eighteen, and of course seeing that model, Harley Hade, and how every eye in the room seemed to be drawn toward him like a magnet.

In a typical Tenley move, she hadn’t even hesitated before dragging Caitlin over to talk to Harley. Clearly, it had worked. Before long, he was buying them drinks, and then Tenley was going off to dance with him, leaving Caitlin all alone.

Soon after that, things started getting blurry. She had the vaguest recollection of dancing, and then later, of curling up in bed with Tenley. But in between, there was nothing—just an empty fog. She hated knowing that she’d done that to herself. It was one of the reasons she usually kept her drinking to a minimum.

Caitlin forced a smile. “Well,” she said, “I did get a little crazy at the shelter the other day. I walked four dogs at once, even though technically you’re only supposed to walk two.”

Tenley’s hand flew to her mouth in mock horror. “Wild child!”

“I know,” Caitlin said solemnly. “So, what about you? Any guys?”
She’d learned long ago that the best way to get Tenley off the topic of Caitlin was to get her onto the topic of Tenley.

“There is this one,” Tenley admitted. “But he’s proving to be tough.”

Caitlin raised her eyebrows. “A boy is resisting you? I didn’t think I’d live to see the day.”

“Well, he’s more a man than a boy.” Tenley paused. “I think that’s why he hasn’t been responding to my usual methods.”

“He’s older?” Caitlin asked. What was with all her friends going for older guys lately?

Tenley nodded. “A couple years.”

“Oh, that’s nothing for you.” Caitlin couldn’t help but feel relieved. From what she’d gathered about Emerson’s mystery man, he was more like a couple of decades older. “Remember when you dated Greg Tucker in eighth grade before you moved? Wasn’t he, like, a senior at the time?”

“Junior,” Tenley corrected. “And so hot. The only way I even got his attention in the first place was because his little brother Robbie had a crush on me….” Tenley suddenly trailed off. Caitlin recognized the look on her face immediately. Eyes narrowed, lips pursed, it was a look Tenley had perfected years ago. Translation:
I’ve got an idea.

Caitlin couldn’t help but laugh. Tenley never changed. “All right, Ten. What’s the big idea?”

Tenley broke into a smile. “I need a hot guy to flirt with,” she declared. “Someone who can stir up some jealousy, draw my target a little closer.”

Caitlin leaned across the table. “So who is this target anyway?” she asked. “Greg Tucker isn’t back in town, is he?”

“No, believe me, this guy is even hotter.” Tenley paused dramatically. “It’s Guinness.”

Caitlin had just taken a sip of coffee but at that news, she spat it back into her cup. “Your stepbrother?”

“It’s not like we’re
blood
related,” Tenley said, her cheeks turning pink. “And I don’t know… It just feels right. Even though it’s wrong.” She laughed. “I mean, you saw him Saturday. He’s gorgeous. How could I not go after that?”

Caitlin leaned back in her chair, looking at Tenley in amazement. She really hadn’t changed one bit. If there was anything she liked more than a challenge, it was a scandalous challenge.

“Crap.” Tenley glanced at the time on her cell phone. “I’d better get going if I want to change before family togetherness hour at Chez Celine.” She rolled her eyes. “Lanson was able to pencil us in at eight thirty sharp tonight, so I am under strict orders not to be late. As if he wasn’t the one who canceled on us last night.” Tenley downed the rest of her chai espresso and stood up. “Don’t say anything about Guinness to anyone, okay? You know my mom. She’d freak if she found out.”

Caitlin laughed as they made a stop at the bathroom on their way out. “Yeah, that’s probably not the kind of brotherly love Trudy’s hoping for.” They tossed their bags onto the counter before entering the two tiny, side-by-side stalls. “Not that that’s ever stopped you before.” The door to the bathroom creaked open and Caitlin heard the sink turn on and off before the footsteps retreated again.

“Nope,” Tenley agreed. “I live by the rule that when your mom starts wearing tighter jeans than you, her opinion stops mattering.”

They were still laughing about Trudy as they made their way out of the restaurant. Tenley gave Caitlin a quick hug before jogging to her car. “See you at Loselow tomorrow!” she called out over her shoulder. Caitlin smiled at Tenley’s old nickname for Winslow.

As Caitlin watched Tenley disappear around a corner, she knew she
should probably head home herself to work on her campaign. The first day of school was tomorrow, which meant the election was only a week away. She was almost ready—she’d printed her posters and ordered her buttons—but she still had three hundred angel food cupcakes to decorate. Whenever she thought about those cupcakes, Caitlin’s doubts about her campaign surfaced all over again. What if the student body didn’t want a halo-wearing, cupcake-wielding president?

Caitlin glanced at her watch. Right now, her parents were probably finishing up dinner. She cringed at the thought of being trapped at a table with her parents. She could just imagine the conversation: It would most likely involve an attempt to break the world record for saying
Harvard
the most times in one sitting. Cupcake decorating would just have to wait until later.