Tag, You're Dead by Kathryn Foxfield

Author:Kathryn Foxfield
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks

* * *

I’m standing at a buffet table, watching everyone else enjoy themselves. This party—Anton’s party—isn’t as much fun as I’d hoped it would be. Most people are so out of it that their voices have become shrieks and their movements uncoordinated. Matthew is nowhere to be seen, and he’s the only person I know, so I’m alone.

I’m picking at a cocktail sausage when Rose appears to my right and helps herself to a bottle of water. She’s as beautiful and as unapproachable as always. She gulps the water down in one long swallow, then wipes her lips. Her skin is perfect, and her red-lipped smile is ice cold.

“Charlotte, isn’t it?” she says. “Matthew’s sister.”

“Stepsister-to-be,” I reply.

“Same difference.” She screws the lid on the bottle and tosses it in with the unopened ones. “Surprised you’re not mingling. Trying to discover where Anton’s bedroom is or stealing his toothbrush.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I say coldly and turn to leave.

“Do you go on GossApp?” Rose says, making me pause. “I think you do. There’s one poster on there who says terrible stuff about me. Really vicious, personal stuff.”

“Oh?” I manage to say, even though my throat is drier than my mom’s roasts. “I haven’t seen anything mean.”

“You haven’t? The posts are seriously unhinged. Personal, even. So I asked my friend to look into it. My friend’s a coder, you know. Coded Shadow City. Finding out an IP address was child’s play to them.”

She can’t know. It’s not possible. I’ve always been so careful.

She gets close to me and drops her voice to a whisper. “Imagine my surprise to discover that the person trolling me was none other than Matthew’s. Little. Sister.”

My heart plummets to my knees. “What…what do you want?”

Rose laughs. “Why would I want anything from some pathetic Anton fan?”

I grit my teeth. All I can think is how much I hate her. She’s so beautiful and so popular and so mean. She doesn’t deserve Anton. She doesn’t deserve to be one of the Accomplices.

She helps herself to an olive, popping it delicately into her mouth. “I’ve read your stories too. I know about your little crush on Anton. Shame it’ll never, ever happen. Why would he look twice at you when he has me?”

“That’s a horrible thing to say.” I gasp.

She laughs and marches off with a swing of her glossy curls, leaving me fighting tears. A couple of the other guests look at me, so I duck behind the pool house to pull myself together.

That feeling. Shame tinged with burning hatred. It’s unbearable. I take out my phone and write that comment on Rose’s GossApp fan page: DIE, DIE, DIE. It isn’t enough to kill the feeling though.

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