Half an hour into the game, and I’m already stuck up a tree. One with a spindly trunk and creaking branches that are threatening to snap at any moment.
The tree’s growing inside the church ruins of St. Dunstan-in-the-East. It’s totally the sort of place I’d go on a daydream date with Anton. Creepers grow out of huge Gothic windows. Benches are hidden in little alcoves. The roof is open to the elements, so I’m bathed in dappled sunlight rustling through leaves.
Anton and I would sit together, our fingers grazing as we snuck our hands closer and closer. There’d be a string quartet playing in the background. He’d pull me toward him, and I’d close my eyes, lips parting. I haven’t had the chance to plot out any more of the fantasy though.
The problem is the two boys flanking the base of my tree. They’re working together and have chased me up here. Now they’re jumping at me like badly dressed Labradors. Their handles are Sean23 and Spar97, but I’ve renamed them Blondie and Spike based on their hairstyles.
“Grab her leg and pull her down,” Blondie says. He’s not much older than me, with an explosion of bleached hair.
“I can’t reach,” Spike says. His brown hair is styled into sharp points.
My bracelet briefly activates with a buzz. I edge farther up the tree and stretch my arm high above my head so that it’s out of range. Every time a breeze catches the tree, it bends enough that the bracelet buzzes.
A small crowd of people who were picnicking inside the ruins have gathered to watch us. Presumably they think we’re acting out some kind of weird performance art since none of them are trying to help me. A girl being bullied by two boys? Someone should definitely be intervening!
“Come down already,” Spike taunts. “You can’t stay in one place for longer than five minutes.”
This is true. And I’ve already been up the tree for two minutes. My one hope is the colors will switch again, like they have twice already.
“You’re going to have to run,” Blondie says. “And we’ll chase you.” He barks and his friend laughs.
“We’ll give you a head start,” Spike says, smirking. “Honest.”
I glare at him. Bullies really get my goat. Especially bullies who dress in skintight red jeans. No one in red jeans has ever turned out to be a decent human—fact. Urgh, I feel such disgust just looking at him. He’s a fungal crotch infection waiting to happen.
“You’re laughing now, but when your mate turns on you, you’ll be tagged out within seconds. You look slow,” I say.
His smirk fades. “We’re working together, so that won’t happen.”
“But you are slow, right?”
“Shut up.” He fidgets in his stupid jeans. “Strategy is more important than speed.”
Blondie snorts with laughter.
Spike rounds on him. “Seriously? We have a deal, right? You better stick to the deal.”
“Sure,” Blondie says. “Rock, Paper, Scissors once we’re down to the final two.”
“As if,” I say.
“Shut up!” Spike snaps.
My bracelet buzzes with a thirty-second warning. Damn. I’m out of time. I briefly consider staying up in the tree and letting it time out. That way, neither of the horrible boys gets to claim the tag. But I’m not giving up on Anton that easily. Besides, my branch makes the decision for me and breaks.
Screaming slasher-movie-victim style, I grab at leaves and twigs in an attempt to stay in the tree, but it’s no use. I’m going down, and Anton’s not here to catch me. Which is why I stretch out my arms and legs like a flying squirrel and aim for Spike.
“What the…? Arghhh!” he cries.
All in all, he’s a fairly soft landing. I don’t have time to check whether he’s OK. My bracelet has activated, and I need to run.
I scramble to my feet and shove my way through the gasping crowd. I trip over a spiky bush, barely keeping my balance. The archway leading outside is ahead, and I think I’m going to make it, but then Blondie grabs my hood, yanking me backward.
Anger surges inside me. I pull myself free, then grab both halves of his scarf and yank them tight, briefly choking him. I set off at a sprint, tripping and flailing as I race to get my bracelet out of range. The countdown gets all the way to three, but then it stops. I’m safe, for a few seconds at least. I glance over my shoulder. I spot Blondie searching for me in the crowd, but Spike is missing.
“Gotcha,” he says, appearing from around the side of the church, panting with exertion and favoring his left leg.
I fly toward one of the glassless windows and scramble up the rough stone. I squeeze through and drop onto the opposite side, landing in a flower bed. I’m on my feet in no time, running for the gates. But the boys are already right behind me.
I’m not proud to admit it, yet I can’t help but scream as I run. I’m expending valuable energy and making myself look like a real idiot, but being chased is literally the worst thing. I skid out of the gate and around the corner, but I lose my footing and have to grab at the railings. Then my bracelet buzzes and, with a sinking feeling, I know I’m done for.
Except…the light’s gone blue. Blue! I’m no longer a Runner; I’m a Chaser. I triumphantly face the boys.
“Ha!” I say. “Who’s first?”
It takes a moment for the boys to understand; then they run back through the church garden. I go after Spike. He’s as slow as I expected, especially now that he’s limping.
“You shouldn’t have worn skinny jeans,” I say. “You’ve sacrificed speed for fashion.”
“Help,” Spike yells. “Mate, some help?”
Blondie doesn’t come to Spike’s aid. I grab him by the waistband. My fingers touch sweaty flesh, which is revolting. But I hold on tight as he struggles.
“This is what happens when you are a mean person,” I say. “You think Anton wants a mean person working for him? No, he doesn’t. Which is why I’m making it my night’s mission to protect him from people like you.”
The timer buzzes faster and faster, and then his light goes out. I release him immediately and wipe my hand on my jeans.
“Psycho,” he snarls and storms off red-faced.
“I’m not a psycho,” I call after him, my tone sugary sweet. I smooth down my Anton hoodie. “I’m Anton’s number one fan.”
I’m also on the leaderboard. I jump up and down in delight as it refreshes, with me in tenth place. My excitement earns me some more odd glances, so I figure it’s time to get moving. I compose myself and leave St. Dunstan’s little oasis and return to the noisy city. Fantasy Anton strolls at my side.
“Nice one, Lola,” he says, his fingers accidentally brushing against mine. “I knew you could do this.”
“I’m actually surprising myself,” I admit. “I guess anything’s possible with a bit of motivation.”
“I am very motivating,” he says with a wink.
We stop on London Bridge and gaze down the river toward the magnificent Tower Bridge. The water sparkles where the sun hits its ripples, and all these boats bob along so peacefully. A light breeze catches my hair, and I’m filled with this feeling of pure joy that makes me want to laugh out loud.
“This city is so beautiful,” I murmur.
“Yeah, totally,” Anton says, and I can see that he’s staring at me, not the river.
I shake my head. That isn’t quite right, so I rewind a few seconds.
“This city is beautiful,” I say.
“So beautiful,” Anton says, his voice catching. He reaches out to brush a stray hair from my face. “So, so beautiful.”
No—that’s too soppy. I’ve ruined the fantasy now, and Anton’s vanished.
“I’m going to find you,” I tell the empty space. “I’ll win this game, and then you’ll finally see me.”
With renewed determination, I set off for the Natural History Museum, where Anton’s second stunt was filmed. Back when my mom last took me there, she was still trying to be a mom, and there was a giant diplodocus taking center stage in the atrium. By the time Anton staged his stunt, my mom had checked out and the dinosaur had been replaced by a whale. I shouldn’t blame the whale, I know.
That stunt was the first time I saw Anton. We were visiting Roger at his house, a few weeks before Mom abruptly moved us in with him and his son. We sat squished together in the living room, with its garish daisy-print wallpaper and clashing curtains, chosen by Roger’s first wife over a decade ago. Roger and Mom chatted and laughed, leaving me sitting awkwardly on the edge of the sofa beside Matthew.
He was a selfish ass even then. Slouched into his seat, he rested his feet on the coffee table and spread his legs so far apart I had to huddle into a ball to avoid being touched by his knee. He spent the whole time playing on his phone, chuckling to himself.
I was bored. So I peeked over his shoulder at the video he was watching. I kept a lid on my curiosity for a full ten minutes until I couldn’t take it anymore.
“What is that?” I said.
He looked up, surprised that I’d dared to speak to him. “This? Oh, it’s a stunt me and some friends filmed the other day. I’m uploading it once I’ve looked it over.”
“A stunt? Bikes jumping through rings of fire?”
He laughed and shook his head. “Nah, nothing so daring. It’s more of a prank or a practical joke. People make millions out of this sort of thing. We’re going to be huge.”
He shuffled closer to me and restarted the video. Anton and the Accomplices—Anton, Matthew, and Beatrix back then—were dressed in Halloween skeleton costumes. They were filming themselves as they ran around the museum, chasing each other and tripping over their own feet, unable to talk for laughing. A couple of security guards were trying to stop them, but the skeletons kept diving out of the way.
It doesn’t sound that funny, except one of the boys caught my eye. He was at the center of everything at the museum. I’d never seen someone so animated. Someone so confident. So loud and hilarious. The boys I knew at school talked in grunts and mumbles, making jokes about their balls and farting on the bus. But he was different. Everything he said was clever and witty. When he took off his mask, he was beautiful, with glossy hair and sparkling eyes.
“This is really good,” I said, taking the phone from Matthew’s hand.
“Yeah?” he said. “Thanks. You know, you should come and meet Anton and the lads sometime. We’re having a party in a few weeks. It’s going to be legendary.”
Of course, this was back when Matthew was still making an effort to be nice to me. Before he decided I was beneath him and unworthy of dating his friend.
“Anton,” I repeated, unable to take my eyes off the beautiful boy.
That was where it started. The moment I fell in love.
I stop walking. A flashing spot on my map has caught my attention. There’s another contestant—Emma98—nearby. We’re both Chasers, so it’s not like I’m in any danger—but it’s weird that I can’t see them anywhere. According to the map, they should be right here.
Suddenly, a hand clamps over my mouth and someone drags me down a concrete ramp into a poorly lit underground parking garage. I struggle, but they’re too strong. My GPS signal fails, and I realize with horror that I have five minutes before I’m out of Anton’s game. I bite down hard on their finger.
“Ouch,” a girl’s voice says. “I just wanted to talk to you without being recorded!”
Their grip loosens and I jump around, raising my fists into a fighting stance. The figure is hard to make out since it’s so dark in here. Also, she’s wearing a wide-brimmed hat and trench coat like she bought a comedy spy costume off the Internet. I lower my hands slightly and squint at her.
“What do you want?” I say.
“The truth,” she says meaningfully. She takes a voice recorder out of her pocket and holds it in front of her. “I’m a reporter. Or I want to be one day. For now, I’m covering Anton’s game from the inside for my school paper.”
I cross my arms. “Does he know?”
“Not exactly. But he loves publicity, right?”
She has a point. “I’m listening.”
“You’re Charlotte, Matthew Bright’s sister?”
Not the direction I thought this conversation would go in. “Stepsister-to-be. What about it?”
“My name’s Emma Sano and—”
I gasp. “Wait, you’re the girl who tried to sell that story about Matthew’s affair. You took it to the tabloids. He told me about you!”
“Did he also tell you how Anton’s lawyers threatened me with all sorts of trouble that terrified my parents?” She shifts slightly, and I get to see the outline of her features. She looks even more like a teenager playing dress-up now, with her smooth, straight ponytail and metal braces. “I had to drop the whole thing. But it wasn’t like I’d get much money for a story about Matthew anyway. I just wanted to get noticed.”
“Well, I believed you. Why else would he have been pictured in his underwear leaving a hotel if he weren't cheating?”
“Exactly. But he’s not why I wanted to talk to you. I’m more interested in Rose.”
I step back from her, our brief camaraderie gone. “What about Rose?”
“I was at the party where she died. Or I was for a while at least. Matthew threw me out when he realized I was taking photos for an article on Anton and his team. Ever since then, I’ve wondered what really happened that night. I overheard some of them arguing and—”
“Wait, what sort of article?” I interrupt.
“All those rumors of fighting between the Accomplices? And the drug and alcohol use at Anton’s parties? It was going to be a super cool exposé that I could have pitched to real magazines. Only then Rose died, and the parties stopped.”
“No. I’m not interested. You’re a parasite, and you need to leave poor Anton alone.” I turn on my heel and march away. “Don’t you think he’s been through enough?”
“Don’t you think Rose went through enough?”
I ignore her and hurry up the ramp into the open. My GPS signal returns, and I breathe a sigh of relief. There’s no time to dwell on some wannabe journalist. I have a game to win. When tonight is over, I’m determined that no one will think of me as Matthew Bright’s sister ever again. It’s time that they saw me for who I really am.