COOP YELLS as he bounds down the staircase, with Sean right behind him. “He can’t get all three of us.” I scramble down the steps after them. I think I’m running fast, but Coop and Sean are leaving me in their dust. My left heel slips off the edge of one of the steps, and I’m bobsledding down the stairs on my ass. I feel the burn of the carpet through my jeans. The staccato pounding on my tailbone. Despite the pain, it works out pretty well because I make it down to the first floor much faster than I would have otherwise. Some kids in the family room are laughing and pointing at me, but I don’t have time to be embarrassed. Tony is charging me, pulling his shirt over his head, taking four steps at a time. “You’re going to die, Twig!” Tony roars. I don’t doubt this, but I sprint anyway. It’s pure instinct. I use the party guests as obstacles. I dodge in and out of everyone. Around this girl. Past that guy. In between this group. Sidestepping that couple. Some people reel back, raising their beers out of harm’s way.
