She did not like parties. Parties came with expectations. You had to mingle. You had to be pleasant and interesting and make scintillating conversation.
Essentially, you had to be . . . not Carter.
Plus, she hadn’t been given a chance to change back into her normal clothes, and she could barely breathe in the leather pants they’d put her in.
But no one seemed interested in her discomfort—physical or emotional—and soon they were out in front of the studio, filing into a stretch limousine. She climbed into the back seat and her heart sank.
Team Dread grinned at them from the other side of the limo.
“Sweet, sharing a ride with Kick It Carter,” said Jarius, crossing his legs at the ankles. “Or should I say, Totally-Choked-in-the-First-Round Carter?” He guffawed, but even his teammates seemed annoyed by his terrible humor.
Carter smiled wanly, avoiding the stare of Neil—the jerk who had quizzed her on inane math equations.
“You cleaned up in the snag round,” Carter said, because being nice was her default when she felt like prey. Be nice enough, and maybe they wouldn’t want to eat her alive. “Congratulations.”
Pink-haired Delphi smacked her bubble gum. She was still wearing sunglasses, even in the dim glow of the car’s blue LED lights. “The Game Master was going easy on us. Hope he tries harder for the next round, or this competition is going to be a breeze.”
“Don’t tease, Delphi,” said Gabriela, with her supermodel smirk as she let her gaze travel slowly over Beck, Carter, and Adi. “It seems that some of our competitors actually found the room to be a little . . . challenging.” She pouted dramatically and turned her focus to Sierra. “Best stick to plotting murders, goth girl.”
Sierra threw her arms over the back of the seat. “Don’t worry. I am.”
Gabriela muttered something in Delphi’s ear. The two giggled cruelly, and just like that Carter was back in school, enthusiastically raising her hand to answer the teachers’ questions while the girls in the back row laughed together.
“Is that your natural hair color?” asked Jarius. It took Carter a moment to realize he was talking to her. “I’ve heard red hair is good luck. Don’t suppose you’d let me pet you for a while?”
Gross wink.
Carter stared at him, disgusted, even as she could feel her cheeks flaming.
“Go ahead,” Sierra answered for her. “I’ve been looking for an excuse to put a ballpoint pen through someone’s eyeball.”
Adi gave a soft snort.
“Feisty,” said Jarius. “It’s nice to see that wasn’t just for the cameras.”
Another wink.
Beck leaned forward. “Is there something in your eye? You keep doing this creepy winking thing.”
“I’m just making small talk,” said Jarius, clearly enjoying how easily he could annoy them. “Might as well get to know each other.”
“Don’t waste your time, Jarius,” said Gabriela. “They’ll be the first to be sent home.”
Delphi snapped her gum. “It’s obvious who does and doesn’t belong here.”
“Gotta agree,” said Jarius. “Carter, you’re such a badass online! But in person, I dunno . . . you strike me as . . .” He shrugged. “A little soft. No offense.”
“Yeah, bet you know all about going soft,” said Adi, raising his eyebrows. “No offense.”
Carter’s heart drummed. She wanted to defend herself, but how could she? They were right. Watching the clips from the snag round had proven how inadequate she was. All her supposed Solve Specialist skills had evaporated the moment she was locked in that room.
“What do you think it takes to stay in the show?” said Beck. “You know, if we’re so lacking.”
“An IQ somewhere above the average dalmatian?” suggested Gabriela.
Beck frowned. “Actually, dalmatians are really—”
“Don’t,” said Sierra. “Don’t say smart.”
