Sidelines ✔️

48 • A message in a bottle • 48

Once we'd all written on our slips of paper, the strawberry blonde mixed them up in the bowl that was the centre piece of the coffee table. Billy reached for my hand as we watched her and I gave him a small smile, but I couldn't stop my leg from bouncing.

"Milo, you go first." The strawberry blonde said, offering him the bowl.

I watched Milo grin as he dipped his hand in and pulled out a piece of paper and felt nauseous at how innocently good-looking he was. His eyes sparkled when he smiled, giving rise to deep dimples. Milo had the kind of smile that made you believe he was the kindest person you'd ever meet.

But I'd never see him that way again. The heaviness of what I knew about him would always shadow that smile. His dimples now looked performative, and the sparkle in his eyes felt like a mask. Looking at him was like being caught in headlights, and it was his choice alone whether to stop or run me over.

I knew instantly whose name he'd drawn. His smirk gave it away the moment he unfolded the paper. Amusement lit up his eyes, and then he started fake-shivering, as if he were standing half-naked in Antarctica. I wanted to roll my eyes at him.

I glanced at Joe, catching the way he grinned at Milo. The ease in his expression told me he didn't know. He was just enjoying the impression, laughing at the exaggerated teeth-chattering and trembling cheeks only someone who didn't take life too seriously could pull off.

"It's Taylor," I said flatly, not wanting to watch Milo continue to act like the loveable guy I knew he wasn't.

I knew as soon as he started shivering that it was Taylor. All Taylor ever did was complain about how cold she was. Joe had likely pulled out Taylor's name. Joe I used to tease her about it constantly. I hated that Milo was starting to know the things about her you'd only know if you spent enough time with her.

"You got it," Joe said with a smirk.

"Hey! That was not an accurate impression of me," Taylor protested.

Joe and I shared a look, trying not to laugh.

"You're always cold," I said.

"Not always."

"Sure, Taylor," Joe added, still grinning.

"All right," Lizzie said, drawing us back to the game. "That means everyone but Charlie and Joe drink—Joe wrote it, Charlie guessed it."

"I have to drink too?" Milo asked.

"Up to you." Lizzie shrugged. " Usually only the ones who didn't guess drink, but since you were the performer, it's your call."

Milo shrugged and drank from his red cup. I couldn't help but wonder if the alcohol alcohol encouraged him.

"Charlie, you're up," Lizzie said.

I reached into the bowl and drew a name. Lizzie. I unfolded the slip—Fiddling with her hair. I sighed and ran a hand through my own.

"That's it?" Joe smirked. "I was hoping I'd get to see you do a push-up or something."

"Can someone guess already?" I said, rolling my eyes.

I wanted my turn to be over and done with. I didn't need the attention. The more eyes on me, the more likely someone would suspect something.

"Easy. Lizzie," Billy said with a smirk. "She's always messing with her hair, aren't you?"

"I do not!" Lizzie replied, rolling her eyes.

"Sure," Milo chimed in.

His voice grated like nails on a chalkboard. It sent a shiver down my spine.

"Lizzie was the right answer," I confirmed, wanting to move on.

I tried not to flinch when I caught Milo smirking again, sipping from his cup as he watched Lizzie look unimpressed.

"Billy, you're up," Lizzie said, trying to keep things moving.

Billy raised his eyebrows at her, then threw me an amused smile before pulling a name from the bowl. That smile widened—until he unfolded the second slip. It vanished instantly. His jaw tensed as he stared across the circle at Milo.

His eyes scanned the group, then flicked over me briefly before settling on Lizzie. He narrowed his eyes at the latter, suspicion brewing behind them. Then, in one sharp motion, he crumpled the paper in his fist.

Did he think she wrote it?

"Well, what is it?" Lizzie asked.

"A load of shit," Billy muttered, throwing the crumpled paper back into the bowl. The once-innocent game piece now ruined.

Billy turned to me. I gave him a what's wrong? kind of look, heart pounding. If he knew it was me, I had no idea how he'd react.

"Come on, Charlie. Let's get out of here," he said, nodding toward the door.

He thought it was someone else.

Lizzie, confused, picked up the discarded paper and smoothed it open.

"What the fuck..." she muttered. Then louder, more sharply, "Who wrote rapist?!"

Every eye around the circle widened. No one had said a name—but Sadie's gaze snapped straight to Milo. Her expression was frozen, like a deer in headlights. Her reaction said more than anything. I wondered what she would've done if she'd pulled Milo's slip instead.

"What name is it?" Someone asked.

Lizzie hesitated, as if even saying it felt wrong. She glanced at Billy before finally saying, in a quiet voice, "Milo."

"What the fuck?" Milo growled, face darkening. "Who the fuck is saying that shit about me?"

I caught Taylor shifting away from him, almost imperceptibly, and then she looked at me. Joe saw it too. She looked between us, and I realized we were all suddenly part of some silent, loaded exchange. Except they didn't know I was the one who'd started it.

"Come on," Billy said, nudging me again. "We've had enough of this game."

I glanced at Taylor and then at Joe. I met his eyes and sent an unspoken message: Look out for her. I'll be back.

Joe gave a subtle nod as I followed Billy out of the circle.

As we climbed the stairs out of the basement, all I could think about was that note. Billy's anger radiated from him, and my mind spun with questions. Was he mad because someone was trying to destroy Milo's name? Because he thought the accusation was baseless? Or because deep down, he thought it might be true?

But what haunted me most was how he'd feel if he knew I had written the note.

After all, I told him I needed to talk to him tonight.

And there was no going back now.

How do you think the rest of the party is going to go down?
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