"You shouldn't tell strangers your name, either." I offer her my free hand. "I'm Saine."
She smiles at me, taking it with her smaller hand. "You're pretty. Do you have a boyfriend or girlfriend?"
"Your dad is probably old enough to bemydad."
"I'm not here with my dad. I'm with my brother. And as you can tell, he's quite the dork to be doing this." She points to herself. "He needs all the help he can get."
"We should return you to him." And I need to get back in there.
I can kiss even the chance ofapplyingto the pilot program goodbye if I don't lock down one of these contestants tonight. My grandma was so excited when I told her about it. She researched new cameras, brainstormed topics, suggested subjects from the community, and queued up documentaries for us to watch in our own version of a film festival every weekendfor a month. It was important to me, so it was important to her. After my mom decided she had no interest in art, I think my grandma felt this was her second chance at raising someone with an artistic passion. I can't let her down.
Inside, I count thirteen players left "alive" on the scoreboard. Mara and I inch as close as we can, but the people on the ground floor are too tall, packed too thickly to move through. Mara latches onto my arm and starts squeezing through, able to bend under their arms and slither around their sides. Bless her for thinking my much larger body can melt down to the same size as hers. It seems impossible that I was ever as small as she is. I somehow manage to get through, though, just in time for one contestant to get straight-up murdered.
"Only ten spots are open for the next event, yet twelve players remain," Chrissy Lo says into the microphone from somewhere I can't see. "Who will end this game?"
"Is your brother still in?" I ask Mara offhandedly. Maybe she sees him on the outskirts of the arena and can meet up with him without my help. Or maybe he's still in play and I can use her to introduce me so I can beg him to be in my documentary. It makes me all upside-down smiley face to know my future could very shortly be at the mercy of some random white dude.
"I don't know. I don't see him." She stands on her tiptoes but doesn't even come up to the shoulders of the man in front of her.
I aim my camera at the contestants still in play, trying to capture the winning moment, but it's pretty impossible with this new, shitty vantage point I have and the fact that if they'renot running for a flag, they're hiding behind or below shelves. The optimal place for filming is definitely in the center of the second floor.
A chorus of yeses and nos fills the room simultaneously as a buzzer goes off, ending the loud music and making me nearly drop my camera. I panic, unsure if I should film the scoreboard or try to get the victors' glory. I shove the camera over a guy's shoulder just in time to film the winners running out of the arena with raised hands. The last person out does a conceited spin to see the crowd cheering him on. Everyone but me.
Because it's Holden Michaels.
"That's my brother," Mara says, pointing at him with a red-chipped fingernail.
I blink. "Uh, no, it's not."
Her entire sweet face crumples into a frown. "Yeah, it is."
"Holden Michaels doesn't have a little sister. He has a little brother, Trevor."
Around us, the crowd slowly disperses into smaller groups around the store, people taking photos with items from the shelves and heading to the registers or exit.
"You know them?" she asks.
"Saine?" Holden comes up behind Mara, placing his hands on her shoulders. His cheeks are red and sweat clings to the hair by his face.
"You know her?" Mara asks.
"You know each other?" he asks, glancing down at her.
"Yes, we all know each other. That's Mara. You're Holden. I'm Saine. What the hell is going on here?" I bend to Mara's eye level. "Blink twice if you're being kidnapped."
Her eyes widen. "Now all I want to do is blink!"
"What are you talking about?" Holden directs Mara—and by extension, me—to the side of the store where there are fewer people. Vice and Virtual employees help Repairisburg employees move the shelves at the back of the store to their proper places, and a few winners are being interviewed for the web series. I wonder if Holden knows he's wasting an opportunity to get his smarmy face out there by glaring at me.
"What else am I supposed to think when a little girl says she's your sister and I know you don't have a sister?"
"He has two," Mara chimes in.
"You honestly thought I kidnapped a kid instead of, I don't know, I now have stepsisters?" Holden grinds his teeth. "You know what? Now that I've said it out loud, your idea makes much more sense."
I don't know why I feel guilty, andbetrayed, for not knowing his parents split and one—or both—remarried, but I do. It's not like we've been friends the last few years, and this isn't exactly something you put on social media, but still. Even when Corrine dated him, she didn't talk about him much—not his personal life, at least. She definitely never mentioned a sister.
"Who's the other?"
"Taylor," Mara says. "She's in college and now Holden gets to watch me all the time. He looooooves it."
"I won, by the way," he says to her. "Not that you'd know because you walked away and could have been kidnapped. I told you not to move. You'd never have done that if Taylor was watching you."
"Because she would have beenwatchingme." She offers ahigh five. "But you won, so it's all good?"
I snort, looking away when Holden glares at me.
"No. If something had happened to you—"
"She's okay," I cut in. "I found her and she's fine."
"If something had happened to you," he repeats, "that would be on me."
She rolls her eyes but sighs. "Sorry that my kidnapping and eventual murder would have reflected poorly on you, Holden." She points to me. "But she has a point. Someone much worse could have found me."
"I don't know about that." Holden glances at the camera in my hand. "What are you even doing here?"
I adjust my grip. "I was filming one of the players, but she... I don't really know."
"Oh, the lady that bailed?" He smirks. "What, did you scare her away?"
"No, thank you, she did that herself." And now I'm screwed.