Page 40 of The Brave and the Reckless

THE HATTERY

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NOAH

While the cast parties tended to unravel into a drunken stupor, they usually started out fun enough. People crowded into the living room and kitchen. Zuri, who wasn’t part of the cast but had come with Sinan, brought homemade pizza rolls, while Lucas showed up with three dozen bags of chips that were just beyond their expiry date, warning people not to ask questions. Austin sat in the corner with his headphones on and his laptop open, supplying the room with a mix of background music and sing-along hits.

And Richard, who had shown up in a sequined blazer and his white hair styled in a high quiff, brought out some trivia cards. He turned the sofa into his personal game show, where both winners and losers got drunk.

Most of us circled the sofa, waiting for the show to start.

“No, I’m on her team, I’ll just sit over here,” Sanny shouted over the chatter, pointing at his sister.

Esra perched on the sofa, rubbing her hands together, completely focused on Richard and his quizmaster cards. Her tank top proclaimed “born yesterday” in big pink letters.

“All teams must sit together for group rounds,” Richard said and waved Sanny to the other side of the L-shaped sofa. Five people would already be a tight squeeze on there, but seven made it look like a tin of sardines. “We need one more person.” Richard pointed at Sanny, Zuri and Esra’s corner of the sofa. No wonder people didn’t want to be on a trivia team with someone who wasborn yesterday…

“Noah!” Sinan waved me over before I could pretend to be too busy sipping my beer.

“No, thanks,” I replied and turned to find someone or something to turn my attention to instead. Vivi, who’d been watching next to me, just pointedly held up a hand as a sign not to talk to her.

“Noah, I love you. I respect you. But you get your butt over here so we can start,” Zuri yelled, already hyped up on the sugary concoction in her cup.

Sanny laughed and planted a kiss on his fiancée’s cheek, while she aggressively patted the three inches of sofa beside her.

“Fine. One sec.” I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge to switch to once I’d finished my beer, before I resigned myself to my fate.

It took some shuffling. Zuri ended up snuggling into Sanny’s lap, and I was wedged between him and Esra. Her knee bounced against mine, her whole body vibrating. She didn’t even spare me a glance or make a snarky commentabout my water. Instead, her knuckles were turning white from gripping the red claxon squeaker for our team.

“Is she okay?”

“No, she’s insane,” Sanny snorted, earning himself a slap on the chest from Zuri, “but yes, she’s fine.”

“First round,” Richard announced. “Each correct answer earns you a round of shots for the team. The shots will remain on the table in front of you. First team to collect four rounds wins. If a team gets an answer wrong, the opposing team has the chance to answer and steal a round of shots from the first team. Any questions?” People stayed silent or shook their heads, so Richard continued: “The category for this round: History.”

“Shit,” Esra muttered under her breath. Her knee bounced faster.

The first question was something about the Civil War and Esra honked her signal before Richard had fully ended the sentence. She bounced up and down on the sofa when the first round of shots appeared in front of us. She was just as fast with the second question, about something called the Silk Road.

The third question was about the California Gold Rush, and Lucas hit the green squeaker at the other end of the sofa– maybe half a second before Esra squeezed the red one. The other team got that question.

Esra glared at that round of shots in front of the other team as if it was a personal affront.

“Next question,” Richard announced. “Blue jeans as we know them today were patented in the 1870s by—”

The green team’s horn squeaked, Heather jumping off the sofa. “Levi Strauss! Levi’s jeans!”

“That wasn’t the question, but correct, blue jeans as we know them were patented by Levi Strauss and Jacob Davis, but why are they called blue jeans? The red team has the question and the opportunity to steal a round of shots.” Richard pointed his cards at us.

Before I had the chance to come up with a theory, Esra replied: “Bleu de Gêneswas the French name for a sturdy blue fabric made in Genoa. The name later developed into the anglicized ‘blue jeans’.”

“That is… correct!” Richard announced in his best show-host voice. He pulled four shots from the green team and set them down with our existing eight. “Red team only needs one more correct answer to win the first round.”

“How do you even know that?” I asked. It wouldn’t have surprised me if Vivi had gotten that answer right, because she could go on and on about fashion and makeup. She had a personal hand in all the costumes in the park. Esra, however, wore sparkly, borderline-offensive clothing.

“Had a lot of inside time as a kid.” She shrugged as if that explained it, when it just left the question why a little girl would spend her time learning about the history of blue jeans instead of playing with dolls or watching TV.

“We’re going all the way back in time with this one. The point goes to the first team to correctly quote and name an ancient Greek philosopher.”

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