Page 75 of Flickerstate

“No,” I protest. “No, I’m not hiding anything.”

Her expression goes cold. “So first you stonewall, and now you lie to our faces.”

“You’re calling me aliar?”

“Guys.” Bree twists in her seat, glancing between Candace and me. “Let’s not get more intense than we need to. Norah, we’re not going to make you share anything you’re not comfortable with. But really, we want to help.”

They want to help. I should give themsomething.

I open my mouth to tell them about Dad.JustDad.

Then I remember Anna Mayer.

For years, Anna ended calls with me by saying, “Bye, love you.” But I haven’t seen her since she heard about Dad’s bites. No texts even. She just ghosted. Why should I expect Candace and Bree, who’ve known me a few months, to stand by me when she didn’t?

I can’t trust them, but Iwantto. Which means I need to end this conversation. The longer it lasts, the more pressure they apply, the more likely it is I’ll tell the truth—and they’ll abandon me when I need them most.

I can’t let that happen.

I lurch up out of the armchair. “Help me by insulting me?” Idon’t have to fake the anger tightening my voice. Candace is right that I’m a liar, but still, her words sting. “No, thank you. I heard you guys out, and now I’m done. I need to catch up on sleep. See you at the trial tomorrow.”

I storm theatrically back into my single and slam the door.

Through the thin walls, I hear Bree’s pleading voice and Candace’s terse one. Bree’s probably urging Candace to follow me so we can all make up and hug, and Candace is refusing. So now I’ve fought with my teammates the night before the final trial,andI’m causing them to fight with each other.

Great job, Norah.

***

I lie rigid in my sweaty bed and wonder what will happen to my family if my team loses, if Dad dies, if I die. When my alarm goes off, my eyes are wide open.

I drink four cups of coffee at breakfast. By lunch, my vision is blurring. All afternoon, the letters in my teachers’ handouts swim like tiny black fish. With a minute left in my last class before nav, I ask to use the bathroom. I splash cold water into my bruised-looking eyes and tell myself to get my shit together.

Ten minutes later, as I walk between the lions into the nav building, my phone buzzes. Jo’s calling.

Right. I forgot to call her last night. She must be worried.

But this is the one instant I have no bandwidth for my babysister.

I turn off my phone and head inside.

The huge room is almost empty. In its center, Griffin stands contemplating a whiteboard, bracket almost complete. As I walk up, he grins. “Ready for the big finale?”

His blond hair ripples sleekly over his forehead. The skin under his eyes is smooth, not creased or shadowed. I envy him so intensely my face aches. “I’m ready to see the Archive.”

“Ooh. Aren’t we confident.”

“You’d rather I apologized for wanting to win?”

“You know I like you how you are,” he says. “But today you’re toast.”

The competitors arrive one by one. Candace, walking stiffly like our fight has beaten her up and she’s afraid to jostle the fractures. Bree with hangdog eyes. Mirabel in sweat-wicking athletic gear. Vik, face utterly blank.

Griffin throws his arms around Mirabel and Vik, forcing a huddle. Candace, Bree, and I stand around, too far apart to be standing together. Candace stares over our heads as if bored by us. I’m not surprised she won’t look at me. And I’m guessing her and Bree’s dispute last night got heated, because she’s not looking at Bree either.

If I were a better person, a natural leader, I’d turn the situation around. I’d pull in Candace and Bree, like Griffin pulled in his team, and tell them last night was a cluster, sure, but we’re here at the critical moment. I’d tell them I’m sorry and I want to put ourfight behind us, because what matters now is now. I’d ask them to put their hands in the middle—

My imagination stalls. Bree ran track at her old school, and when I picture Candace condescending to exercise, I see her in a drop-waist dress with pleats, holding a nine iron. No real team sports there. If I asked them to put their hands in, would they even know what I meant? Exhaustion swamps me, floaters swarming my vision. Let Bree and Candace hum “Eye of the Tiger” if they want. I have no pep left to give.