They All Fall Down by Roxanne St. Claire Page A

voted in this year?”
    “Of course. Didn’t you and your friends?”
    I shake my head and squint toward the house. “Speaking of friends, I kind of ditched mine and I have to find her.”
    Dena grabs my arm, stumbling on the grass. I catch her and look into her eyes. “Are you okay?”
    “Tipsy,” she admits, laughing. “But I’ll be fine.”
    “You sure?”
    Her amusement disappears. “I don’t know. Didn’t that conversation kind of freak you out? About Olivia’s accident?”
    Should I trust her? Should I tell her about the texts and the weird things that have been happening to me? “Yeah, it kind of did. Makes you wonder, huh?”
    “Like, did she get punished for being on the list or something?”
    I consider that, and shake my head. “It just makes you realize how fragile life is,” I say. “Could be taken away any second.”
    “No shit. Yesterday my hair dryer shorted out and I damn near burned down the whole house.”
    “Seriously? What happened?”
    “Hell if I know. My dad said our electrician effed something up in the outlet.”
    “And weren’t you …” Scared to death? “Concerned?”
    She shrugs and gives me a grin. “YOLO, baby girl. Which translates into ‘have some fun.’ ” She shoulders me into the house. “Like, now.”
    Inside, the house is such a showplace it’s overwhelming and difficult to take in. Plus it’s packed with kids. So much for the somber little get-together of grieving teenagers.
    I can smell beer, and the sound of rap is barely drowned out by loud boys and girls laughing. Really? On the night after the girl they all planned to vote for class president next year has died? They either don’t care or … they don’t understand death.
    That’s how they can be so cavalier. They don’t know how permanent death is. But I do.
    Shaking that thought, I peer past the bodies, trying to find Molly, when a hand snakes around my waist and pulls me into a big, strong, masculine chest.
    “Hey, Fifth.” I can feel his mouth close to my ear. “Thought you’d never get here.”
    Dena, next to me, observes the whole thing and gives me an amused look. “Like I said … YOLO.” She winks at me. “I’ll find your friend. I know who she is. You relax and have fun.”
    She’s gone, and for a second I stand really still, my stomach tightening under Josh’s arm.
    “That’s good advice, you know.” He slowly turns me around. “Relax and have fun.”
    Holy cow, he looks good. His dark-golden hair is mussed and his eyes look smoky blue in this light, even more attractive now that they’re zeroed in on me with interest.
    “Hey, Josh,” I say.
    He gives me a slow smile. “Seventh grade, huh?”
    I frown, trying really hard not to let my eyes drop to the way his plain white T-shirt fits his shoulders and hugs his biceps. “What about seventh grade?”
    “The crush you’ve had on me since then.”
    Oh, Molly. You traitor. I consider a fast and furious denial, but I can see the laughter in his eyes. And something else. Satisfaction.
    “Shocking, isn’t it?” I try for a flirtatious tease.
    “You know what I remember about you in middle school?”
    My braces? My breastlessness? My inability to get a boy to notice me? The list is long. I shake my head, not sure I want to hear this but oddly excited by the conversation.
    “You were hydrogen in our Dress Like an Element Day in science.”
    Oh, God, I went to school dressed like a giant raindrop. “Probably not my finest middle school moment.”
    “I thought you were cute.”
    I look up at him, letting the compliment wash over me. “Then we’re even,” I say quietly, giving myself an inner high five for a banter win.
    “Want a drink?” he asks, inching me away from the entry-way toward a lavish-looking living room.
    “I thought this was supposed to be some kind of gathering to mourn Olivia.”
    “She’d want us to be happy,” he replies. “Come and meet the king.”
    “Who’s that?”
    “My