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, getoff,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 aperson.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 ofCSIgrowing up, didn’t you?”
