Love Interest(60)

“It’s Jack Fire,” Sasha says.

Jude laughs. “You’re violent. I like you.”

That’s when Fari walks in with the insurance agent. She introduces him to us as Alfred, and he starts an ill-timed thirty-minute conversation with me like this: “So, Casey, what are your career goals for twenty-five?”

To have one, I think. When I look over at Benny fifteen minutes later, he’s half-drunk and jovial, but I can’t get rid of the protectiveness for him swelling in my gut.

Spot a solution Tracy can’t.

There’s still time. I’m not going to solve anything tonight, but there’s time.

When I manage to get within five feet of Alex, I’ve already gone through a drink and a half. He follows me over to the punch bowl, where I’m topping myself off.

“Hi.” His fingers brush mine as I pass over the drink ladle. He’s wearing a tie-dye T-shirt, light-wash jeans, and boots.

“Hi.” I bite my lip, stifling a giggle. “Where did you acquire that outfit?”

“Would you believe it? This is what I wore to Lollapalooza in high school.”

“Nice try, but I’ve already seen how sparse your closet is.”

“Which is why I had to procure the ensemble from Aunt Jane’s,” Alex says. “Are the cowboy boots doing it for you?”

Kind of. “In your dreams.”

He leans closer, looming over me. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a terrible liar? You better hope for the sake of this game’s longevity that you aren’t the killer. We’d collectively out you in seconds.”

“I can be deceptive when I have to be,” I say, frowning. Almost like I’m trying to convince myself that it’s true.

Alex looks across the room. “Am I meant to stay away from you tonight?”

My mind tumbles over itself. “What?”

He clears his throat. “Fari and Benny are here.”

Oh. I look over at the coworkers in question. They’re laughing with Miriam and Sasha, who are no doubt telling them my most mortifying college stories.

I guess it wouldn’t matter if …

No. Bad idea.

It doesn’t matter, Devil Casey says. The people they’re screwing are here, too, and Brijesh already knows.

“Your face is doing somersaults,” Alex says. “I wish you could see it.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Only stay away from me if you’re the murderer.”

Freddy Rollerblades up to us, catching himself on the table. He’s wearing a white jumpsuit, his chest on full display. “Hello, lovebirds.”

“Your chest hair looks great,” I say.

“That’s not going to convince me to look the other way while you commit murder.”

“Gather up, you drunk hoes!” Miriam shouts from the coffee table.

Sasha swats at her. “Bro, get off, this isn’t the Phi Sig basement.”

Miriam hops down, scowling but unperturbed. “Benny, want to narrate? I feel like as a performer, you’re the natural pick to narrate.”

The fourteen of us gather in a circle, and Sasha passes around a hat with slips of paper inside. “If your paper has an ‘X’ on it, you’re the killer!”

Alex is beside me, and when he pulls his paper out of the bowl, he twists away so I can’t see. I grab mine and do the same; sadly, I am not the killer.

Next, Miriam hands out our character cards, which have lines that we’re supposed to playact with every other character.

“Does everyone have a beverage?” Benny shouts. “I’m going to get started.”

“Wait, dim the lights!”

“I need more vodka!”

“I’m still confused. None of us are dead.”

“The death is an omnipresent human manifestation.”

“What the literal fuck does that mean?”

“Disco is a person. Disco is dead.”

“Everyone shut up!” Benny shouts.

We quiet down, settle onto chairs and against walls. Benny dims the lights, then strolls back in front of the TV. There’s a performative smirk on his face as he holds our unwavering attention. His script is nowhere nearby, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he already memorized it.

“This,” he says, tone low and dramatic, “is everything we know so far about the night disco died.”



* * *



An hour later, I’m certain I’ve got the killer.

“I know it’s you, Freddy.”

He props his feet on the ottoman and smiles at me. “Did you get what you wanted for your birthday, Casey?”

“My name isn’t Casey. It’s Gloria. And what I want is to put you away for murder.”

“You watched a lot of CSI growing up, didn’t you?”

I narrow my eyes. “I did, actually.”

Freddy laughs. Across the room, Ellie 2 shouts at Alfred, “If you had just told me you like to dress up as a woman, then none of this would have happened!”

Alfred blushes, fumbling for his script.

“I think someone assigned the character cards wrong,” Benny grumbles.

Miriam throws up her hands in exasperation. “It was mostly random!”

Cop Hector strolls past. His detective notepad is taking a bath in his cocktail glass. “You’re all under arrest,” he slurs.