Page 151 of Hateful Games

The next second, he’s gone.

Calming my racing heart, I think about the hole I dug myself in. I haven’t got a single clue about cooking. There was always a chef at my home and since we were to maintain a professional distance from them, I couldn’t exactly ask them to teach me. Mom was always busy. So, I didn’t really bother to learn.

Now, it’s coming to bite me in the ass.

Fortunately, I have the perfect ace in my pocket. Sprinting to the library, I find my phone on the couch where I left it yesterday and pull the group chat with my best friends.

ME: SOS

BIANCA: Okay… No need to panic.

IRIS: We are prepared. I knew the day would come. Not so soon though.

BIANCA: Don’t touch anything, Ro.

IRIS: There are two options. Chopping it into pieces or burning it with chemicals. Though both are messy. But the first is quicker.

Are my best friends high? Drunk? I read their texts over and over, coming up short for a reasonable explanation.

ME: What the hell are you two going on about!??

IRIS: You killed Nova… right?

BIANCA: Don’t worry, I’ll be your alibi. Dash knows people.

IRIS: I can help with getting rid of the body. I’ve been learning from episodes of Breaking Bad. I’m sure we can figure it out. It’s pretty simple.

IRIS: Any idea how much he weighs?

Jesus Christ! They’ve really thought this over. Especially Iris. I swear her mind is scarier than mine. Yet I’ve got the bad reputation.

ME: Nova is fine.

IRIS: Of course he’s fine. Dead bodies don’t feel anything.

ME: He’s ALIVE! Still my husband.

IRIS: Oh!

BIANCA: Then what’s the emergency?

ME: Cooking emergency. Both of you get your asses here.

ME: And by both, I mean Iris.

BIANCA: Hey! I’m a decent cook.

IRIS: Respectfully, Bianca, you’re not.

ME: Not so respectfully, you’re terrible.

BIANCA: At least I know how.

ME: Ouch.

IRIS: Also, I’m stuck in back-to-back classes.

BIANCA: Such a shame.

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