Chapter 1
I looked across the car at Nora as we rose up and then stopped abruptly as the car below us let people off and picked up new riders.
“Wait, what do you mean unfortunately?” I crossed my arms and started to lean back, but at that moment, the car swung down and forward, rocking sharply back and forth.
“Uh-oh,” Bryony said, her eyes wide as she looked around.
“Is our car broken?” I braced myself against the side, my heart pounding hard. “Is there something wrong with the ride?”
“Um, no,” Greta said, rolling her eyes. “This is one of the swinging cars.”
I stared at her. My stomach plunged—and then plunged again when our car rolled sharply back as we started to rise again. “No,” I said faintly, even though all the evidence—like the fact that we were sliding all around this track and swinging freely in space—was contradicting me.
“There were signs when we came in,” Nora pointed out.
“You know, I did have that thought when we got on,” Bryony said. “All of a sudden, I wondered why the other line was so much longer. I think it’s because that was the one for the non-swinging cars.”
“Oh god,” I said, as the car plunged forward again, then swung wildly in space. I closed my eyes, hoping that would make it better, but then opened them immediately when I realized that made it worse.
“Cass doesn’t like roller coasters,” Bryony explained in a low voice. Then she shook her head. “Oh sorry—I’m Bryony.”
“Greta.”
“I’m Nora.”
“So nice to meet you!”
“You too,” Greta said. “I love your shirt.”
“So, you know Cass?” Bryony asked, looking from Greta and Nora and back to me. She widened her eyes like she was saying What the heck. I started to shake my head at her—letting her know I thought this was crazy, too—but that just made things feel extra spinny, so I stopped.
Nora folded her arms. “We thought we knew Cass.”
“But clearly we were mistaken,” Greta added, shaking her head.
“Uh,” I said, looking from one to the other, trying to figure out what this weird vibe was. I turned to Bryony, who also looked baffled by what was happening. “Of course you know me,” I said. “We were in school together when I lived in Arizona,” I explained.
I’d gotten to be friends with Greta and Nora when I’d joined the quiz bowl team, something I’d never heard of before we arrived in Prescott but which was, at least at Sunrise Academy, a very big deal.
My dads had teased me that I’d been preparing to join a team like this my whole life—that my love of facts was finally coming in handy.
And I don’t know if that was the reason, but our team was good.
We made it through Regionals, won State, and got to represent Arizona in the Nationals, but ended up coming in second to the winners from North Dakota.
Greta had assured me that I shouldn’t feel bad about it—North Dakota always won.
Apparently, when you couldn’t go outside for six months of the year, there was nothing to do except memorize facts.
We’d left Arizona early that summer, heading to La Jolla, where my dads were working on a seaside renovation.
Every now and then I’d get a question right when Angelo and Oscar were watching Jeopardy!
and I’d smile, knowing it was because of my time on the quiz team.
I’d really liked Greta and Nora and I’d had nothing but good memories of my time in Arizona.
So I didn’t understand why they were both acting like this now.
“It’s really surprising to see you here,” I said to them, then drew in a sharp breath as the car started rising again.
We were almost at the summit, which I really didn’t like, because that meant I could see just how high up we were as the car rolled back and forth over the track, swinging a lot harder than really seemed to be necessary.
I could see most of the park now, lit up and glowing against the darkness—and just in front of us, I could see the Silly Symphony Swings—the ride I should have been on.
“So, you thought you’d never see us again, huh?” Nora asked, narrowing her eyes at me. “That’s what you were counting on?” She paused and sniffed. “Does anyone else smell orange soda?”
I felt my cheeks burn. “What do you mean, what I was counting on?” The ride started to move again, going faster now, but at least we were starting to go downward, which meant it was almost over.
“And why are you mad at me? I haven’t seen either of you in two years.
” I shook my head before I remembered that I shouldn’t do that.
“Exactly.” Greta pointed at me like I’d just proven something. “Because you were just gone when school started junior year.”
“Yeah, because I moved.” What was she so mad about? I’d stayed until the end of the year, after all. We’d gone to Nationals and had brought home a trophy. I’d done what I always tried to do—depart at the top, with everyone happy. “I told you, my dads’ jobs mean—”
“But you never told us you were leaving,” Nora said, and I was surprised to hear a ribbon of hurt running underneath her words, breaking through the anger and annoyance.
“You didn’t tell them?” Bryony asked, sounding shocked.
“Well,” I started, just as the car stopped again.
I peered out of the car, trying to see where we were.
If six on a clock was the ground—which I desperately wanted to return to—we were at three.
We were so close—why weren’t we done? My stomach dropped and flipped again as the car, once more, slid back and forth.
I took a deep breath, then made myself let it out slowly.
Why would anyone ride this? Did people actually like feeling this way? Or were they just pretending?
“She didn’t tell us,” Greta confirmed, folding her arms over her chest.
“Look, I don’t know what you want me to say,” I said, making myself sit up straighter. I was learning in real time that it’s hard to be in an argument when you’re also worried you might throw up in front of everyone in an enclosed space. “It wasn’t my decision to move.”
“But it was your decision not to tell us,” Greta said. “School started and you just weren’t there. Suddenly, all your social media had vanished and you weren’t responding to texts….”
“Not to mention,” Nora chimed in, “you totally screwed us with AQB.”
“With what, now?” Bryony asked.
“Academic quiz bowl,” Greta, Nora, and I all said at the same time.
“Quiz bowl?” Bryony echoed. “Like—bowling?”
“No,” Greta said, sounding horrified. “It’s an academic knowledge competition, and—”
“And…you did this?” Bryony turned to me, sounding more confused than ever. “Is this why you know so many random facts?”
“No, that predated this. I told you about it,” I said, even as I tried to think back. I must have mentioned it at some point. I was pretty sure.
“No, I definitely would have remembered you telling me you did something called quiz bowl.” A second later, she glanced over at Greta and Nora. “Uh, no offense.”
“We were really good,” Greta explained to Bryony, like the reason she wasn’t impressed by the idea of quiz bowl was because she didn’t know our stats. “We went all the way to Nationals when Cass was on our team. We came in second!”
“Oh.” Bryony looked over at me, and it was like she was trying to figure out who I was. “Um. Congratulations?”
“And we would have won the next year,” Nora said, shaking her head. “But then Cass screwed it all up for us.”
I frowned at that—it was one thing to have people mad at you for what you’d done.
But to be blamed for something you weren’t even present for seemed unfair.
I took a breath to point this out, when we started moving again.
We were approaching the ground, and I couldn’t be happier about it.
But instead of stopping in front of the cast members and getting off, the car just kept on going.
“Wait, stop,” I called, as we rose up into the air, the car swaying more violently than ever. “Why are we going around again?”
Bryony shot me a sympathetic look. “You go around twice.”
“We have to do this again?”
“Uh. Yeah. But just one more time!” Bryony said with the tone of someone clearly trying to find the bright side but not quite pulling it off.
The car rolled sharply forward, then swung back, and then tipped forward once more.
I gripped the seat, trying to breathe. I glanced over at Greta and Nora and realized I’d never gotten an answer.
“Wait a second, you said I hurt the next year’s team?
” They both nodded. “How did I do that? I wasn’t even on it! ”
“Exactly!” Nora said. “You weren’t there. And that was the problem. If we’d known you wouldn’t be a part of things, we would have been actively recruiting. Instead, when the year started, we were a team member down and scrambling. We ended up with this completely useless freshman.”
“But you guys still did okay, right?”
Greta and Nora exchanged a look, and I felt my stomach sink in a way that had nothing to do with how the car was swaying. “You made it to Nationals again. Right?” They just stared at me, and I started to get a very bad feeling. “Regionals?”
“Knocked out in Regionals,” Nora said, her voice flat. “First round. We lost on a question about how many wives Henry the Eighth had.”
“Six,” I said immediately. “Everyone knows that.”
“Apparently Sarah Rudolph didn’t,” Nora said.
“Oh.” We stopped again, and a heavy, awkward silence settled over the car.
I looked down, willing this to be over. I wanted to be off this ride and on solid ground, and not having to confront people who were looking at me like I’d done something wrong.
After all, it wasn’t my fault they’d lost. But the fact they hadn’t even made it through Regionals…
Along with nausea, I was feeling the acrid burn of guilt in my stomach. And I didn’t like it.
More than anything, I wished I could have a do-over. I’d go back, we’d go on the non-swinging cars, and I wouldn’t have to have this conversation. I could return to thinking that everything was fine when I left Arizona, like I’d believed fifteen minutes ago.
“You still haven’t said sorry,” Nora snapped, breaking the silence.
“Sorry—for moving?”
“Sorry for the way you left! For costing us Nationals—it wrecked my whole transcript.”
“But I didn’t know you’d lost!”
“Because you never reached out! Because we never heard from you again!” Nora’s voice broke on the last word, and she sat back hard against the car. It sent it swaying, as we rose up in the air again, heading back around, finally, toward the ground.
“Could you not do that?” I asked faintly as we rocked back and forth.
“What—make the car move?” Greta asked, also leaning back against the seat, and setting the car swaying. Suddenly, there was a gleam in her eye that I didn’t like at all. “Does this bother you or something?”
“Oh my god,” I muttered as I stared out the window, trying to find anything that would serve as a steady horizon.
My thoughts were whirling and my stomach was clenched, but I knew it wasn’t just the motion sickness.
It was everything they’d said, everything that I would have very much preferred not to hear.
I was mentally composing a response to Greta and Nora—something about how I couldn’t be expected to be psychic, and that people not knowing facts about the Tudor court wasn’t my fault—when we finally came to a stop.
The cast member opened the door for us to get out, and Nora and Greta gathered their bags, then paused for a moment, looking at me.
“It was nice to meet you, Bryony,” Nora said pointedly. “Cass, I’d say keep in touch—but we both know you’re not going to do that. So.” She shook her head, then climbed out. Greta followed, and they walked off, neither one of them looking back at me.