She said it in a whisper. No one ever got disqualified. To be kicked out of the game was to be the ultimate buzzkill and loser. Getting disqualified meant you had done something bad enough to get removed and put the game in danger of being shut down. Disqualified kids were basically outcasts for the rest of the school year. Lia would die before suffering disqualification.

The kid who had been hit had deferred his first year of college. Lia’s older brother, Mark, had gotten third place that year, betraying his best friend on the final day. It wasn’t an academic achievement, but their parents had still been proud. Their pride only grew when college decisions came in.

He’d gotten scholarships and a special dinner. He’d gotten into MIT and been gifted a new car. Lia had gotten eighteen years of parents and teachers comparing her to him. She was always “Mark’s sister.”

Not this year. This year, she’d be better. If they had been proud of him for Assassins, they could be proud of her, even if it was only a game.

“Your priorities amaze me,” Devon said.

“Why?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“The kid could have died, and you’re concerned about them still being counted ‘out’ in the game.” He looked at her and smiled. “You’d murder me in a heartbeat, wouldn’t you?”

“Only metaphorically.” Lia leaned back against the table. She had teased a smile out of Devon Diaz! Twice in three days! Sure, they had all been about murder, but that counted. “I would’ve made it a fun murder.”

“At least neither of you have to worry about it now,” Gem said. “Ben usually trains during lunch, so we’ll have to talk to him later.”

Impulsively, Lia uncapped her pen with her mouth and drew her phone number on Devon’s hand.

“Text me after school,” she said. “I’ll send out the plan.”

“Great.” He ran his thumb across the ink. “Can’t wait to win.”

Lia’s skin prickled at the easy way he trusted her.

The moment he was out of earshot, Lia grabbed Gem’s arm. “Was he being sarcastic?”

“I don’t think so,” Gem said. “I’ve never seen you romantically distracted. This’ll be fun.”

“This will be perfect.” Lia pulled up her schedule of all the seniors’ movements—when they got to school, their classes, where they ate lunch, when they left and how, and what they did after—and scrolled to Ben’s section. “He has a thirty-minute break between school and practice, and practice ends at four-thirty on Fridays. I’ll send out the plan then. Think we can get him tomorrow?”

“I’ve got nothing tonight and tomorrow, and then family brunch Sunday,” Gem said. “Rusty is ours.”

Rusty was the old red Saturn Gem shared with their younger sister, and it ran fine but looked rough after fifteen years. Gem was the only one with access to a car, though.

“Good. That’ll be safer,” Lia said.

Lia created a group text for her, Gem, Devon, and Ben.