Page 74 of Lessons in Cruelty

Thx for the book.

And thx for the cocoa.

Not used to stuff like that.

I pause, because I’m not sure if I’m referring to his kindness or the alcohol. But I leave it as is, and type another two messages.

Promise I won’t put up such a fight next time.

If there is a next time?

I nearly delete the last message, but then Melissa walks back into the room with a tray and I tap send before I pussy out.

“We’ll sit on the floor. I don’t want ants in the bed.”

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

“Grab those cushions.” She points with her chin as she squats to set the tray down on the patterned rug. I grab two scatter cushions from her bed and hand her one as I come to sit in front of her.

There’s a can of orange soda, a can of diet cola, and three bowls of snacks on the tray. Oreos, pretzels, and popcorn.

“Thanks,” I say, grabbing an Oreo before I can second-guess myself.

“Right. Let’s see what fresh hell our dark daddy has cooked up for us.”

I giggle at that, and she flashes another one of her micro-smiles as she fetches her envelope out of her laptop bag. Must be university stationery because there’s a small AHC logo stamped near one corner.

“Oh, I got one too.”

She waves a hand. “Probably the same.” Then her eyes go wide. “But we’ll check after. Because Rooke, right? Fuuuck.” She draws out the word into a groan.

I frown at her. “Okay, what am I missing?”

She shrugs as she tears open her envelope, dropping her voice low. “That he’s fucked in the head, but so smart and good looking, no one cares?”

I laugh, but the sound is uneasy.

“Ugh, this is going to take long.” She shakes out the folded paper. “Cruel Consequences.” Rolls her eyes. “He’s so melodramatic. If he wasn’t so hot, I’d be annoyed.”

She sounds annoyed to me, but maybe she’s just peeved.

She scans the page, grabbing a pretzel to nibble on while I try not to die of curiosity. Thankfully, she’s a fast reader.

“Oh, okay. So it’s like a twist on Truth or Dare. We can knock this out in an hour.” She hands me the paper and then upends the envelope on her palm. A set of laminated cards fall out, bound with a red elastic band, slips of paper, and a red sticker.

I skim the instructions.

We roll a die—not included, thanks Professor—to see who starts. Then we draw a card and have to decide to enact a Cruelty on our partner, or suffer the Consequence. Then we move to the next card and repeat the process.

If either of us refuses to complete a card, we both fail.

If we don’t turn in a video of us completing the cards, we both fail.

And finally, if we don’t have fun with it, we both fail.

“We have to record this?”

“It’s that or doing it in front of the class,” Melissa says, already glancing around for a place to set up her phone.