Page 86 of Every Time I Go on Vacation, Someone Dies

I feel unsteady. I try to call out, to tell them to step back! But it’s too loud for anyone to hear me over the oohs and aahs and pointing fingers at the sky.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

And then it hits me.

Fireworks, a distraction, a crowd, those stairs that go down and down and down. One firm hand to the back, and it would be hard to tell who was responsible.

It would be impossible.

The only problem is, I’m the one losing my footing. Not Connor.

Then I feel it—a hand on the small of my back, pushing me to the edge, and then a hard shove.

And now I’m falling, and all I can think is: Maybe I’m the one who dies in this story after all.

CHAPTER 16Life After Death

This is it, I think as I tumble out into space. This is the end.

And yeah, I know, I know—my almost-dead dialogue sucks.

Is this truly going to be my last thought? Editing myself as I tumble into—

A frantic hand catches the fabric of my dress and pulls me back. I’m not on solid ground; I’m floating in someone’s arms with my heart on fire, ready to explode.

“I’ve got you, El. I’ve got you.”

It’s Oliver. It’s always Oliver.

Damn it.

“Can you speak?”

“I… I think so.”

He lowers me gently to the ground. My feet touch the cement, and my legs give way underneath me.

“I’ve got you,” Oliver says again, and he doesn’t let me fall because it’s Oliver and he’d never let me fall, not even if he were the one who wanted me gone.

Because my God, my God. Someone wants to kill me.

Someone tried to kill me.

What. The. Fuck.

“Thank you,” I say, trying to steady myself.

My back is to him, his arms around me like they were last night when he saved me the first time. I press against him, hoping his solidity will seep into me, and take several long, slow breaths.

I turn around slowly as the rest of the world comes back into focus. There’s still a crowd around us, the fireworks exploding above.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Everyone’s faces are turned up to the sky, lit up by the lights. Blue, red, gold.

I scan them quickly—those I know and those I don’t. No one seems like they just tried to push me off the edge. No one looks guilty.

No one’s looking at me at all, except for Oliver.