Elegy - Tara Hudson

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      Kaylen flashed everyone a smug half grin. “I always take the dare. You know that.”

      “Oh, I know.” Jillian grinned back, but her smile wasn’t a happy one. “That’s why I already have your dare picked out.”

      “Bring it, Jilly.” Kaylen curled her fists and flexed her arms into a strongman position. “I’m not afraid.”

      When I saw Jillian’s smirk, I wondered whether Kaylen should have been.

      “Okay, if you’re so brave, then why don’t you go get us another bottle of your mom’s wine?”

      Kaylen had already started to beam confidently, when Jillian added, “And one of her old pageant tiaras. A big one. Which you will wear for the rest of the night.”

      The other girls started cackling, but Kaylen paled faintly. I would bet anything that those tiaras, with all their sharp edges and cold sparkle, represented the worst of Kaylen’s fears. Just the thought of stealing one had her broken out in a visible sweat.

      Despite the jealousy I’d felt toward Kaylen, despite the fact that she’d thrown herself at my boyfriend last fall, I suddenly wanted to protect her. To keep her from risking her mother’s wrath, and from having to see another tiara again, if she didn’t want to.

      “Jillian, I think that’s one too many dares.”

      I spoke as quietly as possible, but the other girls heard me. As Kaylen watched me, something in her eyes shifted from desperate to hopeful.

      “Actually,” I went on, keeping my eyes trained on Kaylen’s, “I know that’s one too many dares. Kaylen will probably get caught stealing the tiara. And if she has to steal something, I’d rather have the wine.”

      Faced with a choice between the humiliation of their queen bee and more booze, the crowd quickly chose the latter. As if to demonstrate, Elyse grabbed the bottle from Chelsea’s hand and tilted it back, draining the last few ounces.

      “More wine, more wine,” she began to chant softly, once she’d finished off the bottle.

      As Kaylen pushed herself up from the floor, her feigned look of boredom barely hid her obvious relief.

      “Okay, okay,” she said, moving toward the doors. “I’ll get us another bottle.”

      “Two,” Jillian called out, just before the doors clicked shut. Then she whipped around toward me.

      “Thanks a lot, Amelia,” she said, dragging out my name sarcastically.

      I shrugged, unbothered by the fact that I’d spoiled Jillian’s plans. It was just too bad if she momentarily hated me for it. I’d lost too many friendships to let Jillian ruin one of her own. Besides, Kaylen might be needy and a little self-absorbed, but that didn’t mean she deserved cruelty.

      There was enough of it in the afterlife, I’d learned.

      Oblivious to my motives, Jillian turned back to her friends, effectively cutting me out of the conversation. I shook my head and smiled.

      Oh, Jillian. You are nothing if not yourself.

      I settled against the foot of my chair, satisfied to listen in silence for a while. Whether or not I would make friends with these girls tonight, perhaps I’d found an ally in Kaylen.

      Or at least I thought I had. Less than sixty seconds after Kaylen returned, passed the stolen wine to her friends, and flopped back into her place in the circle, she turned on me with a wide smile.

      “Truth or dare, Amelia.”

      My eyes narrowed as I stared back at her. If I was being really honest, I’d thought that Kaylen herself would give me the biggest break, considering what I’d just done for her. But no such luck.

      Though I didn’t know her exact question, I knew its inevitable subject: the boy I loved; the boy I’d been through hell for, almost literally.

      It should have been an easy choice. I should have picked truth, and then lied like crazy. Fibbed my way through the dark secrets about Joshua’s Seer heritage and my undead status. Provided some vague answers, like “yeah, he’s a good kisser,” or “no, we haven’t talked about what will happen to us after graduation.”

      Instead, I lowered my head and flashed my darkest smile.

      “Dare, Kaylen. I choose dare.”

      Obviously, Kaylen hadn’t anticipated my response. She sputtered a bit, floundering to think up an appropriate challenge for a girl she barely knew, and secretly envied. Finally, after exchanging a few pleading looks with her friends, she settled on an old staple.

      “It’s almost midnight, so I guess . . . I dare you to summon Bloody Mary in the mirror.” She glanced around the theater, trying to find the right venue, and then pointed to the powder bath. “In there. So we can hear you chant her name.”

      I had to choke back a laugh.

      My dare is to summon a ghost? One that doesn’t even exist?

      Instead of outright mocking the dare, I put on my most intimidated face. “I don’t know, Kaylen. That’s kind of a creepy game.”

      Beside me, I could see Jillian roll her eyes; she knew as well as I did that a little spinning and chanting in the dark didn’t scare me. Kaylen, however, was fooled: she preened and smiled.

      “That’s the dare, Amelia. Unless you want to take it back, and answer a few questions.”

      This time, I didn’t have to fake my reaction. “No, that’s okay. Bloody Mary’s just fine by me.”

      I paused in the doorway of the bath, locked eyes with Jillian, and tried not to grin. Then I ducked inside and pushed the door shut behind me.

      I just stood there for almost a full minute, shaking my head at the idiocy of this task. Most of these girls probably hadn’t played Bloody Mary in years. I couldn’t remember, but I was pretty sure I hadn’t played it in several decades.

      Still, when I heard someone call out, “The lights are still on,” I flipped the switch.

      Even with the thin strip of light filtering in from under the door, the room was surprisingly dark. I could just barely see the outline of my face in the mirror.

      I shouted to the girls outside, “How many times am I supposed to spin?”

      After a pause, someone answered, “Thirteen.”

      “Thirteen?” My eyes shot open. “I’ll get dizzy and throw up.”

      “That’s the point,” someone else said, followed by a chorus of giggles.

      I groaned loudly. I suppose this was the true torture of the dare: self-induced nausea in a stranger’s bathroom.

      Hurray for girly bonding time.

      With a heavy sigh, I brushed the lip of the sink with my fingertips and closed my eyes again. Then I began to turn slowly, using the smooth porcelain edge of the sink to guide my spins.

      One, I counted in my head, while calling, “Bloody Mary,” loud enough for the other girls to hear.

      That first chant incited another rash of laughter outside the door, but soon I was too occupied by the task of staying upright to listen. Spinning in tight, measured circles proved much harder than I’d thought. By the fourth repetition, my feet began to tangle; by the sixth, my head starting spinning in full force; by the eighth, I wasn’t even sure if I could keep myself vertical.

      Nine,

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