"We need to talk," Alex hissed, tugging Emily aside at the unofficial homecoming party – the one held in the woods in the middle of the night that all the adults in town knew about but pretended they didn't. (Alex was probably the only person at the school who'd even bothered to get permission to attend.)

"I was winning!" Emily whined when Alex's dragging caused her to miss her beer pong shot.

Alex was not to be dissuaded, though, and continued dragging Emily away from the festivities and into the seclusion of the woods. Once they were alone and unlikely to be overheard, Alex rounded on Emily, arms crossed firmly over her chest, and shot her a look that seemed to demand an explanation, though Emily had no idea for what.

She heaved a world-weary sigh. "About the mutant thing?" she asked with dread, really not in the mood (nor at optimal sobriety, considering how many beers she'd downed while playing beer pong) to have this conversation.

"No," Alex said dismissively. A beat. Then, she corrected herself, "Well, actually, yes. We do need to discuss that. But later." She glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one had followed them. "We need to talk about us!" she whispered, even though there was no way anyone could hear them from this distance, especially with the deafening music playing.

"Us?" Emily repeated dumbly. Whether said dumbness was caused by the alcohol or her general lack of social graces, though, remained to be seen.

Alex huffed. "Where does our relationship stand?" When Emily still didn't respond, she rolled her eyes, then bluntly asked, "Are we dating?"

"Dating?" she repeated, then winced, wishing she were thinking more clearly.

"I kind of need to know, like, right the fuck now," Alex pressed. "Because I need to know if I need to break up with James..."

Emily narrowed her eyes, intrigued by Alex's high-strung demeanour. "Why? Why does it need to be decided so urgently?" (She wasn't completely certain whether she intended that to be a genuine question or playful teasing.)

"I assumed you'd heard the rumour," Alex said, sounding mildly surprised, considering it was the only thing anyone at the party could talk about. "James is planning some big romantic gesture to ask me to homecoming and I cannot handle the embarrassment if I have to dump him publicly. But if you want to date, it's going to have to be a secret, which is another excellent reason why I need to break up with him quietly..."

And in spite of her father's ominous words, Emily instantly reverted to a six year old pulling the pigtails of a girl she liked. "So, go out with him if it's that big a deal," she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. Her venom surprised even her, but she'd said it now and there was no taking it back.

"Emily, I didn't say that I wanted to go out with him, I just don't want to cheat on him," Alex reminded her.

"No, it's fine," Emily grumbled, "We're just messing around, so you do whatever you gotta do."

For a moment, hurt flashed across Alex's face, but only briefly before she replaced it with a mask of steely resolve. "Fine. Maybe I will go to homecoming with him, since you clearly don't care."

With that, she turned on her heel and stomped off.

Emily didn't need to be a psychic to sense the waves of hurt rolling off Alex as she retreated toward the bonfire where James waited with a beer in his hand, which Alex promptly snatched and downed the rest of it. Emily would have liked to follow her and apologize, claim temporary insanity...anything to erase what she'd just done, but knew that doing so was going to show her hand too publicly.

So, she was forced to watch as James pulled out a guitar and serenaded Alex with the lyrics to her favourite song changed to be about the two of them, asking her to homecoming. (And, for the briefest moment, she caught Emily's eye and almost seemed to beg her forgiveness...) To watch as Alex flung her arms around his neck and kissed him, accepting his promposal or whatever it was called.

And her one and only coping mechanism was to get blind stinking drunk. She found one of the bottles of vodka floating around and began swigging directly from the bottle. When she came up for air, she heard the jingling of coins in a manila envelope. "Final collection!" some boy she'd never met hollered in her face when she opened her eyes. He waved the envelope in front of her, staring expectantly.

"Give me a hint," she said when he didn't appear to be about to explain what exactly it was he was waiting for. "What are you collecting? Stamps? Seashells?"

He rolled his eyes. "Get a clue, newbie," he scoffed. "For Panic."

"And that would be?"

In the next moment, Alex appeared at her side. "She's not interested, she won't be playing, so piss off," she said rather gruffly before shepherding Emily away from him.

"What the fuck, Alex," Emily exclaimed. "What was that Panic thing he was talking about? And why am I not allowed to play?"

With a furtive glance about, Alex said, "Promise me you won't play."

Rolling her eyes, Emily said, "Fine, whatever. I promise."

Alex still seemed reluctant, but with a little annoyed huff, she explained, "It's a game. Everyone in the senior class is eligible to play. Everyone pays in, winner gets the pot. The only rule is: don't panic."

Intrigued, Emily raised a brow. "How much are we talking?"

With a glower now, Alex reminded, "You said you wouldn't play! Emily, fifty grand is not worth your life!"

"Fifty grand!?" Emily echoed.

"Emily!" Alex punched her in the shoulder. "Two kids died last year playing Panic! The police know now, we're not supposed to play it!"

Emily grinned smugly. "Fifty grand is fifty grand..."