“Jamie?”Jennifer says, and when I look across, she and Dani have inched closer.
They’re looking at me differently now.Wary.Afraid.As if I’m as good as the killer.They walked into this building expecting a mediocre date at best, some awkward silences at worst, and now Dani’s blue dress is covered in bloodstains and Jennifer’s blowout has gone flat from too much time pressing herself up against walls.God, none of us were prepared for this.
“I understand if you agree with Billie—”
“I don’t,” she says, cutting me off.She’s far more composed than I’ve seen her since we found her hidden in the alcove.Less anxious.And I can’t help but think that kind of character growth is to be expected this far in.“I think we’re safer together.Like you said.”
“Me, too,” Dani says, but she’s still wringing her hands so hard I can see the skin turning red.
“But now that we know he’s doing thisforyou—”
“Which isnotyour fault,” Laurie interjects.
“Definitely not your fault,” Jennifer agrees, gritting her teeth almost comically.“Men are crazy…”
We sit in the silence of the statement a little longer than is comfortable, until Jennifer realizes Wes is still very much a part of our group and the conversation.She winces.
“No offense.”
“None taken,” he replies, and the low, accepting tone of his voice draws the smallest of smiles to my lips.When he spots it, it doesn’t take long for him to match it.
With Wes’s eyes on me, my back to the dance floor, and the group clustered in an intimate huddle, it’s easier to swallow the panic.It’s easier to push aside the implications of my name inside that heart and focus on how to use this new knowledge to our advantage.
“Was there anyone who was just…” Jennifer struggles for the right word until her eyes drop to mine knowingly.“You know.On any of your dates?”
What she means is if I got the pull with one of the guys tonight.Not the giddy, unbridled kind that makes everything rose colored, where all you have is possibilities and romanticized ideals.The kind that conjures up images of prolonged eye contact and slow smiles and light, tentative touches.I thought I was lucky enough to have two of those tonight.
Jennifer means the kind of feeling you get from a date that makes you keep an eye on your drink.The kind that makes you censor the personal information you include in small talk, so you don’t end up “accidentally” running into the creep in a less-controlled environment.
“I didn’t pick up any serial killer vibes,” I say.“But it’s not like I can remember everyone I had a date with tonight, either.”There’s only so much space in my brain after all, and the majority of it is taken up by film quotes and genre tropes.Wes drops my hand, his palm digging into his back pocket to draw out two postcard-sized sheets of stiff paper.
When he turns them over, I recognize them even though there are red smudges marring the yes/no columns.
The match cards.
“I grabbed these when I was downstairs,” he says, handing them over.“I thought it might come in handy with figuring out who is still unaccounted for, but maybe it’ll help jog your memory.”
The card on top has the male names, and Stu’s is the first one listed.Whoever originally owned this card has put a large tick in the “yes” column next to his name.I’m guessing they didn’t accidentally call him Drew, then.I tap my finger against his name, looking up to the find the others waiting expectantly for me to go through the suspect list.
“Stu and I did not get along.I thought he was a dick.”Laurie waves away the apologetic look I shoot at her when I say his name.The murders have taken away any fleeting attraction she may have had to the wannabe lumberjack.
“He could’ve been pretending to not like you,” Jennifer says, and I can’t help but cringe.At what point do we evolve from thinking yanking someone’s pigtails is still an appropriate form of showing interest?
“It’s not like he was negging me or pulling some schoolyard bullshit.We basically hated each other by the time our group split.”
Jennifer isn’t convinced, though.“Youhatedhim.What if he felt differently?”
That doesn’t sit right.I’m well versed in enemies to lovers, but this doesn’t feel likeThe Hating Gameor evenPride and Prejudice.There was never a simmering undertone of attraction with Stu, and not just because he wears too much plaid, but because he’s too much of a dumbass.Not to mention, that setup getslessviolent as the relationship progresses.
I glance down at the list, scanning the names and mentally removing Drew and Curtis from the lineup since bleeding out takes you off the suspect list.There are three names that don’t bring to mind any faces when I read them—Ari, Jason, and Michael.
“I don’t remember these three at all,” I say, neglecting to mention that I can’t remember the first three dates after the break because I was still focused on the one I had before it.With Wes.
“Ari was a little weird,” Laurie offers.“He spent our whole date talking about his aunt’s hysterectomy.”
“Oh my god, he told me that story, too,” Jennifer says.“It seemed like he was nervous.Maybe because he was about to…you know.”
It seems like a stretch, but I don’t know if any of us have the skills to tell the difference between normal “first date” nerves and “about to commit a massacre” nerves.
