“The porch is a still life of wicker furniture. Emily’s window, the window from which the notes of her flute drop like soft petals, is dark with sleep. I stare at the house where I was light as a feather and stiff as a board and laughing all night. “I don’t think we should do this,” I say. We could change our minds right now. We could turn around, jog back to my house, and stick the eggs in the fridge where they belong. Alexis turns slit eyes on me. “Nikki doesn’t think it was your fault she got... in trouble. But I’d be mad at you if I were her.” “Shut up,” Nikki says. Her eyes radiate with daring and excitement. She slips to the corner of the van and motions for us to come over. Laying down the carton, she lifts the lid. The ammo is ready. Alexis bends for an egg, but Nikki stops her. “Hailee throws the first one,” Nikki says. My heart beats in my throat. Blood whooshes to my feet, and a nervous, shaky feeling flows in its place. Nikki holds out a smooth white egg.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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