---
Mission 1: Ask Lea-without-an-H (aka my dead brother's ex) some questions.
Mission 2: Win a chain, any chain.
Mission 3: Get Chase Everett the hell out of my way. He knows something. I can see it in his damn eyes.
---
The night air bit at my skin, sharp and cold, even through my long-sleeved tee. The sleeves clung to my arms like second skin, and my black jeans were stiff from being freshly washed. I should've layered up more. Penn, on the other hand, didn't give a single damn about the weather—rocking an armless rust-orange gown that stopped mid-thigh, her shoulder-length locs tied up with silver string like she was ready to walk a runway and set it on fire.
The bonfire beach party was already buzzing. Lights dangled between palm trees like lazy stars, and torches lined the shore, flickering in the breeze. Smoke curled into the night sky, thick with the scent of salt, firewood, and teenage sweat. Somewhere, speakers thumped bass-heavy music that made the sand vibrate under my sneakers.
I glanced up at the massive poster fluttering above the entrance:
> AVARD'S BONFIRE NIGHT 🔥
Penn and I had arrived early-ish, but Archer was nowhere in sight. Typical.
We made our way to one of the wooden drink stands set up near the fire pit. I sank onto a barstool that creaked under me, scanning the crowd like I was hunting something—or someone.
Someone tall. Someone reckless. Someone with too many secrets in his jawline.
"We want your strongest drink," Penelope told the guy behind the counter, propping an elbow on the wood like she'd been here before.
The bar guy—tall, lanky, with messy reddish curls and a single dimple on his left cheek—grinned at her. "Been a while, Penny."
His voice had a smug drawl that made me look up.
"Don't think I've seen you before," I muttered, taking the cup he handed me. The liquid inside was bright orange and smelled suspiciously like gasoline and gummy bears.
"Newbie," he said with a smirk. "Try not to die."
I downed it in one gulp—and instantly regretted it. Fire. My throat lit up like a matchstick, and the burn didn't go away.
"Holy crap," I gasped, coughing.
"That's not cocktail," Penn muttered, watching me struggle.
"Nope." The bar guy winked, flashing his number chain. #22. Cocky little thing.
Penn rolled her eyes. "She's not a newbie. Been here a week. That's, like, a full Avard semester."
"Still chainless," he said under his breath.
And that right there? That exactly was why I had to get one tonight. No more invisible status. No more chainless nobody. No more pretending I wasn't desperate.
I stood abruptly, brushing the sand off my jeans. "I'll be back."
"Where you going?" Penn called.
"Where the action is."
That's when I heard it. A voice behind me, familiar and calm.
"Been looking for you and Penny."
I turned to see Archer walking toward us, his white tee layered under a black flannel, sleeves rolled to his elbows, black jeans torn at the knees. He looked casual but calculated. Always did. A girl clung beside him, too close, her lip gloss already smeared like she'd tried and failed to kiss him.
Penn smiled. "Enjoying the party?"
"Hell yeah." Archer side-eyed the girl beside him and muttered something. She walked off reluctantly, throwing me a glare that I ignored.
"When's the game starting?" I asked, arms crossed.
"What game?" Penn blinked. Then her eyes went wide. "Wait. Wait. Don't tell me you're actually thinking of doing that dumb game?"
"I am." I shrugged. "What's the big deal?"
Penn groaned. "Cam, it's not even a real game. It's a humiliation fest wrapped in lip gloss. You gotta kiss one of the Top 5. On the mouth. For twenty seconds."
I stared at her. "You're joking."
"She's not," Archer muttered, jaw tight.
"Dead serious," Penn said, sipping her drink with a grimace. "It's always the same. Last year, only one girl won. Lea kissed Chase. In front of her boyfriend." She leaned closer. "He's dead now."
I froze. "Cirrius?"
My blood ran cold.
Lea. My dead brother. This night. It was all twisted together like barbed wire.
And then… something clicked.
I grinned.
"Oh, I've got an idea."
Penn and Archer leaned in. "Spill."
"First of all… it's crazy."
---
The bonfire blazed higher, flames licking the air. The sand felt cool under my soles as I walked toward the crowd forming at the heart of the beach. The music thumped harder now, deep enough to vibrate in my ribs.
A girl stepped up to the mic in front of the fire—tall, flawless skin, violet eyeshadow smeared across her lids. Her purple mini skirt glittered like tinsel and her ripped crop top showed a flat stomach and the #7 chain glinting around her neck.
Lea-without-an-H. Standing there like a damn queen.
I hated how pretty she was.
"Tonight's different," she said. "Because a year ago today, someone important died."
My chest tightened. Cirrius.
"We dated," she continued. "He meant a lot. Let's give him a moment of silence."
Everyone bowed their heads. I didn't.
I looked up—and so did she.
Our eyes met.
Her stare was unreadable, calm and hollow. My heart kicked in my chest, but I didn't look away.
She smiled softly, then turned back to the crowd. "The game rules haven't changed. If you kiss a guy for more than twenty seconds, and he doesn't pull away? You get his chain. Or an upgrade."
Cue the screams, laughter, and hormones.
My stomach flipped.
Across the fire, I saw him.
Chase Everett.
Leaning against a wooden post, cigarette between his lips, sleeves rolled up, number 15 dangling from his hand like bait.
Of course.
My body felt weirdly light. Dizzy. Like the world was swaying and I was floating above it.
That drink.
I blinked, trying to steady myself.
Penn whispered, "Still going through with it?"
I nodded once and walked.
Every step toward Chase made my heart pound harder. My palms were sweating. My chest felt too tight.
He looked up as I approached, slow and lazy, like he'd been expecting me.
"Want to play the game with me?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He smirked. "You sure? Didn't you say no when I asked you to be my girlfriend?"
I snatched the cigarette from his mouth and crushed it under my boot.
"Shut up, Everett."
Laughter and yelling filled the air behind us.
"In three… two… one—KISS!" Lea's voice boomed.
The crowd screamed.
I leaned in slowly, close enough to smell his cologne—dark spice and something smoky.
My fingers brushed his cheek.
His breath hitched.
Then—
WHAM.
I kneed him hard in the groin.
He gasped, doubling over, chain slipping from his hand. His face contorted in pain, mouth open like he couldn't even scream.
I snatched the chain and spun away.
#15 now shimmered against my chest.
And that's when Penn's voice rang out like a siren.
"FIRE! There's fire!! Run!!"
A small plume of smoke rose from the palm trees—probably Archer's work with matches and dry leaves—and chaos exploded.
Screams. Running feet. Drinks flying.
Archer grabbed my wrist. "Go!"
We sprinted, the bonfire roaring behind us. I looked back once—Chase was gone. Just smoke, sparks, and confusion.
"Best. Bonfire. Ever!" Penn yelled, catching up, eyes wild with adrenaline.
I laughed breathlessly. The chain clinked against my collarbone.
"Desperate times," I muttered, "call for dirty-measures."
No kisses. No apologies.
And no regrets. Or maybe -