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I can do this.
I can get out of this.
But when I open my mouth, nothing comes out. I’m frozen. Paralyzed.
They’ll know.
They’ll suspect.
…They already do.
My eyes burn, and I dig my nails in harder, until the pain momentarily replaces my focus.
This isn’t fair. I suddenly hate my sister. Mason too, because he has to know what she’s up to, as stupid of a plan as this is. I’m so angry, I feel like I could explode.
Around and around we go, and the more nauseous I feel with each spin. The anticipation is becoming painful, knotting my stomach all up, with only brief moments of reprieve every time the bottle lands on someone who isn’t me.
How has it not landed on me yet?
Are they doing it on purpose?
I should be grateful if they are.
But if anything, it just makes me feel more pathetic.
There’s no winning here.
“Are we done yet?” Waylon grumbles after he has to kiss Sarah for the second time. It keeps landing on him for some reason—every time one of the girls spins, it’s either on another girl or on him. At one point Dana got Mason, and I hoped that would be the moment Izzy stopped this.
But nope, she just said the same thing Mason did: “No tongue.”
It’s Izzy’s turn again soon enough, and this time she gets Mason. I look away, staring unseeingly at some spot across the room until my vision blurs.
Their kiss goes on for longer than it should be, by the sounds of everyone around us giving them crap and telling them to get a room.
I barely hold back an eye roll.
Chewing my lip, I curl my toes inside my sneakers, holding the rest of me very still as I wait for Mason to take his turn. Peeking through the corners of my eyes, I watch as he reaches forward, grips the bottle, and gives it a hard spin.
My tongue is in my throat, and my heart somewhere in my stomach, but once again, it skips over me—barely. And like every time he’s been the one to take a turn, I feel a little less relieved when it doesn’t land on me.
And just a whole lot more confused.
Mason and Kasey share a quick peck on the lips, and then it’s her turn.
Another spin. Another kiss.
It’s Kasey’s turn to spin again.
And then it happens.
“Ohhhhh,” one of the girls—I don’t know who—intones, just as Izzy squeals.
No…
I tense, and my wide gaze snaps to the bottle.
It’s pointed directly at me.
