A million thoughts buzz in my head – some relevant, some totally random. It's almost midnight. Time to change for the dance. Bathroom...where's the bathroom? Did Enzo bring clothes for the dance or is he not going to? Is he really a psycho? Man, I've got to pee. The fireworks are nice, it's like another 4 of July. Hooray independence! I'mcraving peanut butter. 

"I'll meet you at the Dancing Square," Enzo says as I grab my duffel bag that contains a dress and shoes. The Dancing Square is really just part of the state park's court that's been cleared out for the Spring Carnival. 

"Sounds good," I respond, rushing to the bathroom, getting caught in a sea of other girls who also need to change. I don't see Allister in the mix, but I'm sure she's picked a glorious dress full of sequins and sparkles. 

 Once I've changed, I look at myself in the mirror. I'm 18, a murderer, and about to dance with a possible psychopath. My parents will be thrilled.

A booming voice calls out that the dance is to start in 10 minutes. I take a deep breath.

 "Okay, Reyna. Relax." Am I about to dance with Enzo King the Psycho who lies about who calls him on the phone? Or am I bout to dance with Enzo King, the deputy who helped me and insisted I was beautiful? 

Only one way to find out. 

I saunter out of the bathroom, silky dress swishing with every step I take in my sandals. Just like with school, I'm right in the middle: not too fancy, but not too plain. I grin at the irony of it all. My world's been throwing into high gear and I still manage to be completely average. 

Making my way to the Dancing Square, I look for Enzo. I almost spot him instantaneously, being as he's exceptionally tall. He's dressed in a nicely pressed tuxedo with his wavy black hair slicked back. His golden eyes scan the eyes for me and butterflies push my negative thoughts away. Handsome is an understatement to describe Enzo. He stands in the midst of the crowd, regal, looking for me. Waiting for me.

His eyes brush past me before registering my presence. He does a double-take and the sparkle in his eyes is clear from here. A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips, and the same tug pulls on my mouth as well.

"I'm old..." a woman says behind me, arm linked with her elderly husband's. "...but I know love when I see it." She nods at Enzo then shifts her gaze to me. "And I'm seeing it." 

I push back those strands of hair we've all become so familiar with, unsure of what to say. 

 The old man winks at me before guiding him and his wife away, that sparkle in his eyes, too.

Enzo and I meet halfway, stopping about a foot away from each other. He surveys me."You look beautiful," he compliments. "But I knew that when you were driving me to the hospital in your PJ's."

"You don't look too shabby yourself," I manage, letting myself blush a bit. 

 A song begins to play – slow, yet happy. I wish life was like this song. Recently, everything has been hitting me at a million miles per hour, and the outcome of the past week has been all but happy. Enzo extends a hand and I grasp it. The skin on his palm is a bit coarse, but his touch is extremely gentle.

He twirls me around, and while I spin, I look up at the overhead string of lights and the fireworks and a bubbly feeling melts my worries away. Right now, life is slow and happy. My spinning ends and I'm drawn into Enzo. My right hand clasps his and my left-hand rests on his shoulder, while his right hand rests against my waist. 

The song switches to something a bit slower, and the entire Dancing Square stops dancing momentarily to adjust to a new beat. A slower beat, at that. Enzo releases my hand and finds the other side of my waist, pulling me closer to him. I forget about my paranoia of psychoticism – what are the odds of him being a psycho, really? – and let myself melt into him. My arms hug around his broad shoulders and back. 

I look for Aero and Allister but don't see them. Alli would never willingly miss a dance or a chance to look fantastic. Where are they? 

I end up seeing the old couple, dancing similarly to Enzo and me. The bright lights snag on the woman's diamond wedding ring, which blinds me momentarily. Is this what waits for me in the future? A ring on my finger given to me by Enzo?

No way, I tell myself. 

 Maybe, an opposing voice in my head argues. I rest my head in the gentle curve of his neck and move with him and the music. 

 "Reyna?" Enzo hums, their voice vibrating his chest. Vibrating me. 

"Yeah?" I ask, wondering what he's thinking of now. Wondering if he's waiting for the music to stop so he can go home. Wondering if he hopes it never stops. 

"What were you and Maren talking about earlier?"

I laugh now. Laugh at the thought of him even possibly being a socio or psychopath. 

"Maren thought that you might've been a psychopath or something," I tell him, the words sounding funny now that they've been said out loud. 

Enzo doesn't respond and his hold on me loosens a bit. It's probably just me thinking he did. His movements are slow. No, it's not just my mind playing tricks on me. Suddenly, the firmness in his hold returns and I feel him sigh, chest rising and falling. "What's wrong?" I ask him. 

One of his hands travels to the spot between my shoulder blades as if he's trying to keep me from leaving. But I'm not going anywhere. "I am." 

"You are...what?" I inquire.

"During my stay at rehab, I proved okay enough to live normally," he explains, talking low so nobody else hears us. "But I am psychopathic, Reyna."

My heart skips before picking up the pace and hauling ass. I feel myself stiffen. "So you cause pain? You like it, I mean." 

"Mostly," he answers. 

 "And emotions...you're good at mimicking them. You don't really feel anything besides anger?"

"Mostly," he repeats, tone grave and baritone. The music flutters for a moment, calling for a spin. Enzo doesn't miss a beat and he twirls me until the flutter stops. His twirling arm is extended just like my holding arm is – our hands are the only tether between us. Enzo doesn't pull me in, but he watches me. 

He's letting you go, Reyna. Take the chance and run!

 He's letting you go, Reyna. He can't be all that bad, can he? 

I see Enzo King in a totally new light. He loves causing pain – so Aero was probably right about everything. All those times Enzo looked at me with admiration, when he explained his past with moving sadness and passion when he covered for me when I killed Freddie...was any of it real? Was he causing someone else pain in the meantime of all of those moments? Was he going to hurt me later on? Also...could he be the killer? 

I think to myself the phrase of the night: only one way to find out.

 I spin so his arm wraps back around me and my own hands are back on his shoulders."Have you ever killed someone?" I quietly ask as Enzo unsurely holds me. 

"Yes," he confirms. "Before rehab. After that, I've killed, but as a deputy."

 "Was any of what you said about rehab true?" 

 "Some," he admits. "I still do mild drugs." 

 My insides twist at the lies he told me before. "Have you tried to stop?" 

 "It hasn't been a particular priority of mine." There's a silence between us – a stiff air."Just ask the question you know you want to ask, Reyna."

"Has any of it been real? I know you're supposed to like pain, but lying to me now doesn't make me hurt. It makes me pissed off. So tell me the truth." 

 "I know," he softly acknowledges. "Everything I do is clear and set. It all has a purpose and goal-"

"So no," I answer for him. If it's clear to him...if I have a purpose that he's interested in, it's pain. He did it all to cause pain. 

"I mean, I'd answer if you didn't interrupt me," he gruffly sighs. What, is being honest, not easy for him? Boohoo. "Everything's been so clear to me until recently. I've been questioning myself a lot...especially today. So, yes, Reyna. Almost all of it was real."

 Thank God.

 Is he lying? 

"What parts weren't real?" I inquire.

"The night we met." The memory of him bloodied and bruised makes me cringe, but then it satisfies me. His emotions were lies that night – good for him being in pain. "I knew where you'd be. I played you that night. After I met you, it was different."

I recall the CD the killer put in my car. They knew I would intercept Enzo and not go to Della's because of it. "Are you the killer?"

 Enzo wouldn't kill me here if he was. It's too public...I think. "You think that?" he asks, devoid of emotion. 

"There was a CD in my car – an automated voice telling me there would be a greater cause for not going to Della's. Then you showed up." 

Enzo looks at me, trying to see if I'm serious. "Do you think I'm the killer?"

"Just answer me," I snap. 

 "You answer me first," he demands, getting agitated. 

 "Why?" I challenge, unafraid. 

"Because right now that's the only thing that matters to me. Do you think I'm the killer? Yes, or no, Reyna?"

I bite my lip and look at him. He admitted to drug use, murder, faking emotions, and"mostly" liking to cause pain. It seems like the perfect resume for a killer if you ask me. But I don't want it to be. I don't want him to be the bad guy. To save me from falling apart and answering "yes" I say, "No." It's only when I say it that I realize it's true. 

"You wanted to say yes," he accuses.

 "But did I? No, I didn't." 

 "Why not?" he asks, sizing me up. 

 "Because I don't want you to be the killer." 

He lets out a breath I didn't know he was holding and his shoulders relax. "That's all I wanted to know," he discloses, voice cracking. Enzo clears his throat and a deadly look floods his amber eyes. "But Reyna, I do work for him. He gave me money, light drugs, and the ability to cause pain. Then, I thought it was a great deal..."

Every bone and muscle in my body goes rigid. But still, there's hope inside of me. I hope I have to see because I can't look at Enzo and judge him for murder when I'vemurdered, myself. "You say it in past tense..."

"Because now I hate that I work for him..." he pauses and rubs his temples. "AndReyna, you're going to hate me," he warns. "But I'm going to say this before you completely block me out. I took Makai. I tortured Makai. I knew that if I hurt you, I'd hurt him because I'm pretty sure he loves you. That's how this all began but it won't end that way, Reyna. I promise. I went against Type – the killer's – agenda. I'm trying to save him, okay? I'm going to make this all better.

My hands fall from his shoulders. Makai – my brother – has been missing and getting tortured. I've bent over backwards to try and find him and save him, only to realize the answer to where he had literally been right in front of me. I saw the shape he was in when I found him: skinny, bleeding, bruised, and sickly pale. That was all Enzo's doing. Enzo, who confessed everything and danced with me and went against the killer's orders.Enzo, who abuses drugs and takes my friends and works for a sick coward.

Have I been falling for Enzo King? Or someone else he completely made up? Moreover, will I ever find out for sure? 

No wonder he helped me get away from the police – his DNA was there, too. I can't go to Sheriff Desario, because then we'd both get thrown into jail or worse. I'll do him a solid by not selling him out, considering he didn't sell me out. "Where is he now?" I ask, stepping away from Enzo. 

"He's supposed to be backstage, hidden until everyone leaves..." erryone, I mentally correct. Makai never says everyone or everything – erryone and errything. "...but Type'sbeen on my case lately. I can never know what to expect." I assume Type to be Destiny'skiller – Enzo's employer. "...but who knows?" 

"You did," I bite. He watched me struggle and try so desperately to find him. He was in my car when I cried over killing Freddie. I was in pain and he must've soaked it up like a sponge. 

"I'm trying to help him out. I'm trying to do a good thing," Enzo claims. "I think that's  right now' matters a lot more than 'back then.'"

I swallow a lump in my throat. Enzo's right. Makai is here and I need to get to him before anyone else does. All emotions and betrayals aside, I need the psycho right now.  "Fine. Let's get him. Right now."

Enzo lights up. Or does he act as he does? 

 "This doesn't mean I forgive you," I spit. 

 "Will you ever?" 

"Honestly, I don't think you're really even sorry. I doubt you can even feel that way."

Anger fills his eyes – anger, the only thing he can feel and the only thing he ever felt. Everything's been so clear to me until recently. Was all of what he just said real, or was it a ploy? After I met you, it was different.

Enzo opens his mouth to say something, but he snaps it shut. "Come on," he brusquely says, grabbing my arm and towing me along through the crowd. 

 Suddenly, enormous spotlights turn on with turbulent thundering. "Ladies and gentlemen," a man with a southern accent introduces, reading from a white piece of paper. "It's time for the drawing of the golden tickets, brought to you by Enzo King!"

I furrow my brows and manage to look up at him. Enzo looks just as confused as I feel, and by this time, I'm too mentally exhausted to wonder if he's actually confused. "I didn't this," he hurriedly insists. "I don't know what this is."

The spotlight crawls on us. It's so bright I have to put my hand up to my face. "Now, time for the Great Hat!" Two people in black hooded cloaks carry an enormous top hat to the stage.

"Those are the types of clothes Frederick was wearing," I tell Enzo. 

 "Type hires high schoolers sometimes. He's trying to mess with your mind." "Well consider it messed with," I direct at him.

 Enzo, being the king of perception, frowns at me. "Before, I meant to hurt you. But now, it's the other way around." 

"Call me crazy, but I find it kind of hard to believe you." I feel all the anger and hatred spewing out of me. But it's because I have been hurt. I didn't know how much I liked Enzountil the possibility of a normal relationship was pulled out from underneath me.

The announcer fishes around the hat before pulling out a shiny ticket that gleams in the saturating lights. "And the winner of Mr King's prize is...Reyna Copulas!"

Uneasily, Enzo looks at me and I glare at him. He throws his hands in a surrender gesture. "I have nothing to do with this, I don't know what's happening." 

"Boys, let's see what our lucky winner has won today," the fat announcer in white says to the two dressed like Freddie in 4512. They march down the small steps and to a board twice my size length-and-width-wise. Six other cloaked people line the "prize." Three on the left side and three on the right, while the original two grab the lavender sheet that covers what I won. Now, I'm shaking. What's under there? Why address it from Enzo?

 "Don't create unnecessary suspense," the announcer coos. "The people of the SpringCarnival wants to see the grand prize."

 "I thought the prize was five-thousand dollars!" someone complains in the crowd.

There's a crackle over the carnival speakers. The announcer says something in the microphone, but it doesn't work. He taps it to see if it's working. Obviously, it isn't. 

Enzo curses under his breath. A voice comes in throughout the entirety of the spring carnival. It's all around me now, surrounding me in every direction. It's the automated voice: the killer, Type. 

"Hello, Reyna," they greet. "You look nice tonight. I got bored listening to Enzo pour his psychotic little heart out, so let's get this show on the road. You'll get your prize, but it cost you a friend. You can blame Enzo for that..." there's a silence as I stare so hard at the lavender sheet I think it might melt. My fingernails dig so hard into my palms that they begin to bleed. Enzo reaches down for one but I cross my arms and act like he didn't. "...see you later."

The two cloaked beings yank the sheet, which tumbles down to the ground. The crowd gasps and raise their hands to their mouths. But I don't have time to. If I don't move now, he could slip away again. Makai could slip away again. 

Tied to a spinning wheel like a fool in medieval times, is Makai with vomit down his shirt. I dart through the crowd, slipping between people and ducking under arms and dodging around moving legs. Once I get to the wheel, I have hesitancy about the people dressed in black, but they stand as still as a statue. 

There's a knife tied to the board because it's meant for me. I rip it off and furiously saw away at the binds that keep Makai Keanu hostage. I start at the feet then move to the wrists. "Reyna?" he croaks, low on energy. 

 "Shh, it's okay. You're going to be fine. For sure this time," I promise, not really knowing if the coast is all clear. The killer said it cost me a friend in return for Makai...what exactly did he mean?

 Makai's chocolate eyes roam the crowd. "S' a sick party," he manages. 

"Yeah. Sick.

Finally, I cut the ropes off and he falls on top of me. I prepare to fall at the momentum of his muscular weight, but he's light. Too light. "Can you stand?" I ask him.

 Makai looks at his feet and tries to balance with a hand on my shoulder. He removes his hand and topples to the ground. I bend down by him as someone phones 9-1-1. Already, I hear sirens. They didn't respond that quickly...there's no way. Did someone else call

I lift Makai enough for him to sit up and rest his head on my shoulder as I hug him."I've got you," I sobbed into him. "I finally got you..." The unspoken words: I love you, brother

Makai wraps his arms around me and squeezes with all .01 ounces of strength he has."The guy keeping me...he's going to hurt you, he –" 

"We don't really have to worry about him anymore. Not now," I soothe, trying to calm him down.

 Simultaneously, all the cloaked figures swivel towards my brother and me. What'shappening now?

All of the strangers reach inside their cloak as if grabbing for a gun. Their hands stay stuck behind their clothes as they take synchronized steps towards me. It's like a bad dream I can't wake up from. When they close in with a foot away from me, they stop moving... 

 Until the one behind me puts a gun to my head. "Come willingly with us, or don't come at all," they demand. As the voice on the CD, like Freddie, the voice is automated. "Your choice." I don't move. I finally got Makai back. I finally got answers about the killer. I finally realized why Enzo had flashes of contempt on his face. Now I'm supposed to just...give up? "Three..."

"Go, Reyna," Makai urges.

"Two..." 

 "Now," my brother insists. 

 "One." There's a bang and my body instinctively jerks forwards as the audience shrieks and covers their eyes or turns around. 

Makai's eyes grow wide and his mouth trembles. "Reyna?" 

 My eyes are also wide. I'm alive. I'm okay. I'm breathing. "I'm fine, I'm fine." If the cloaked man didn't shoot me, then who did? 

Makai's eyes lock on someone he must despise. His face grows cold and dark. It doesn't take a mastermind to know it's Enzo. "Why?" Makai questions with a deep scowl. 

"For once, Makee Canoe," Enzo's voice sounds behind me. "It wasn't for money."

I turn to look at Enzo, gun in hand. "Thanks," I croak.

Enzo returns a cool nod before turning his attention to my left. I look over, and in the distance, Aero is walking out of the maze next to someone in a body bag. A deputy comes up and demands Enzo put his hands behind his back. "I'm a deputy," he tells the stranger, showing him his badge and putting away his gun. 

"Sorry. A lot of commotion tonight. Someone has sniped in the maze," the man explains. 

 It will cost you a friend... 

"Who was it?" Enzo questions. Someone being sniped in the maze is why police are already here. The fact that it happened so timely when I freed Makai is no coincidence. The shooting either happened simultaneously, or it happened earlier and no one could call 9-1-1 because maybe the signal was blocked. The killer planted bugs in my room (or was that Enzo?) so who knows what he's capable of?

"Alabaster? Allison? Something like that," the stranger offers. 

 "Allister," I muster, a wave of nausea and depression hitting me over and over. 

 "Yeah, that's it." 

Makai furrows his brows. "No way..." I shake as I bury my head into Makai and he buries his into me. We sob and sob for various reasons. Makai is alive. He'll be okay. Allister is dead. She'll never cheer us up again. Enzo was telling the truth tonight if he got to Type. So he told the truth about being psychopathic. I almost died tonight. There was a gun to my head. Enzo shot the shooter. I have to explain to Makai that we're siblings. I need to face my parents.

Other officers arrest the kids cloaked in black and carry off the dead man after taking multiple photographs. "I'd say I need to take you in for questioning, but I think I got it covered," Enzo says to Makai from behind me. 

Makai clears his throat. Wavering,  stands and gets really close to Enzo. "Fuck you."