Page 7 of Stop and Seek (Our Childish Games #1)

The lights clicked on and—hey—Noah could see what the fuck he was doing.

He blinked against the floating white dots. Scraped the last part of the sticker off his tank top. Maybe he got it all. He couldn’t tell. Everything smelled like sweat and someone else’s cologne—Benji’s probably, or maybe it was hot-bathroom-guy from earlier still stuck to his clothes.

“How long did it take you to learn everyone’s names?” he asked, scrubbing his thumb against the sticky spot.

“A magician doesn’t tell all his secrets,” Kyran said. He tossed the microphone to a guy in glasses. “It takes the je ne sais quoi out of it . ”

Noah raised his eyebrows, rolling the name tag between his palms. “I like magic.”

“You should use your eidetic memory for something worthwhile, Kyran.” Benji snapped his phone shut. “You’d make more money than you do now.”

Kyran let out a dramatic sigh. “I make money. And thanks for ruining the mystery. Shut up and gimme your wrist. ”

Noah shoved the sticker into his pocket, his fingers brushing lint and an old gum wrapper. He wiped the residue on his shorts.

Not like it was the worst thing on his clothing.

“You call someone a cunt and suddenly you’re banned from like, three platforms. I fucking hate social media,” Max groaned, her blonde head popping up from her phone. “The kids are losing their shit.”

“It’s a ton of money,” Noah said, as gently as he could.

Leave it to the rich girl to not get it. He’d seen her drop that much on a shopping trip.

“Hand,” Kyran ordered, wiggling his fingers at Noah. “You wanna go find some people or get lost?”

Noah shrugged. “It’s only practice, so it doesn’t matter. Did the A/V guy finish set up?”

“Eddie,” Kyran corrected. “And yeah, he did. He’s a programmer now.”

“Which means… he’s still the audio-visual guy.”

Noah grinned, but Kyran didn’t return the smile.

Kyran’s eyes flicked to Benji, then back. A silent shift. Barely anything, but Noah caught it.

Yikes. So much for jokes.

“You can…” Kyran trailed off, chewing on one of the lip rings. “Play catch. Ben-Ben is hiding. That way, I can make sure the game is running smooth on both ends. Sound good?”

“Stop calling me that,” Benji hissed.

A plastic cup soared through the air, spinning mid-flight. Kyran ducked, and it smashed into the wall with a wet squelch . Something sugary slid down the paint .

Noah eyed it. Glanced back at Kyran hesitantly. “Uh. Yeah. That sounds cool, man. My knee’s a little wonky today, but I’ll suffer for the greater good.”

Not really the truth, but it wasn’t like he could say, Sorry, still sore from railing some dude a few hours ago. He’d already gotten an earful about missing last checks from Max.

He held out his wrist, and Kyran snapped one of the red bands around it.

Well, it looked like his plans of sitting this one out were off the table.

The first few rounds of Stop and Seek would be crazy—screaming, running, the whole nine yards. Three hundred people in a school the size of a sandbox didn’t sound like his version of fun.

“Happy pill?” Max asked, rummaging through her purse.

She shoved things aside. Finally pulled out a gold-embossed box.

Noah squinted at it, rolling the idea around.

“I could,” he muttered. He scrunched his nose. “Makes me kinda dizzy, though. If the grass is damp…”

Max dropped the box into her purse like it was poison. “That settles that. No pills for you. I need you in Venice Beach with me.”

They’d all been stuck in Eunice for a week, and getting out sounded amazing right about now.

Venice Beach was Max’s idea, though he remembered being more set on Sweden—ski resorts beat out beach resorts every time .

Not that his opinion mattered much when Max made up her mind.

“Alright, boys over here, girls over here. Naw, I’m just kidding,” Kyran yelled, directing people like some manic air traffic controller. “As long as we end up kinda-sorta-maybe even, it’ll be okay. Can you imagine this with only one hider? The horror.”

Laughter rippled through the crowd, someone shouting, “Do it!” before the chatter grew louder, voices overlapping.

Noah turned his hand over. He picked at the grime under his nail, brain stuck on a way more interesting subject—bathroom guy.

Random fucks weren’t new to him, but, jesus , the way that red-headed sounded? Off the charts hot.

The way he was so into it—

Noah just wanted to try something a little new and. Damn.

He exhaled sharply, shaking off the heat before he ended up having to explain why he was hard.

Not a good look.

So when he saw the light from Benji’s phone, he couldn’t help himself. It was an easy way to pass the time, and the Benji-Kyran unit had been acting so distant.

Ten years was plenty of time to get over what happened when they were seniors .

“Where do you plan on hiding first?” Noah asked, drifting closer.

Benji’s shoulders tensed before he opened his mouth. His voice wobbled when he answered. “I have a few places I’m considering.”

It didn’t make a whole lot of sense as to why Benji was scared.

Not like Noah did something to him . Or Kyran.

Why were they both acting like he’d cornered them in a dark alley or some shit?

Before he could push, Kyran’s loud laugh cut through. “I’m herding cats. Sheesh. Two minutes go by fast. Good luck, hiders. And, go!”

The pop gun cracked, deafening in the teeny-tiny gym, and then the world broke into chaos—people screaming, sneakers and sandals squeaking on the floor.

Noah turned around, leaning his forehead against the smooth stone and pulling out his phone. The texts in the group chat were still going full force, each disappearing almost before he could read it.

Alyssa Torrez

uwu *glomps u*

Tyler Bernhardt

whyyyy

Charity Richardson

HAHA

Maxine Sterling

girl cringe lmao

He smirked, thumb hovering over the screen as GIFs and half-baked memes flooded the white space.

If the hiders were smart, they’d turn their phones off.

In the silence, a chirp, a buzz, would give them away.

He could picture it now—bodies crammed under desks, breath held behind dusty display cases, some squeezed into unlocked utility closets.

The “creative” ones would try their luck outside in the courtyard or football field.

That’s where the real fun was.

Noah knew every square inch of the football field, the outdoor gym, the locker room—

Finding people was his specialty, after all.

Kyran left the floodlights on outside—something about insurance reasons—and anyone moving after their two minutes would be a death sentence.

The first person he planned on hunting down was Benji.

Noah’s fingers tightened around the phone.

That look on Benji’s face pissed him off more than it should have.

Tonight, he’d get some answers.

Dumb and Dumber couldn’t still be lamenting over Callie. She was done with, dusted.

Yeah. Okay.

He had slipped —messed up and had to have Max clean up his mess—but he was a different person now.

Callie was ancient history and he’d changed .

“Two minutes on the dot. Time to scatter, babes,” Kyran said, and the sharp crack of the pop gun started the chase.

People fanned out.

Some paired off, or went searching together in packs.

It wasn’t a bad strategy but Stop and Seek would never be a group activity.

Noah turned off his phone and hung back. He inhaled slowly, willing his thrumming heart to slow and rolling his shoulders as he watched.

Most of the Seekers were heading left out of the double doors, which would be too crowded.

Right it was.

He slipped into the hall, sneakers quiet on the worn linoleum.

To the right was the lunchroom: huge and empty and downright spooky without the usual bustle. Chairs stacked on the round tables—except in the back, beside the little corner stage.

Someone was shuffling, but Noah couldn’t pinpoint if it came from behind him or in front.

He crept forward. Reached his hand into the darkness under the table, and—there, his fingers found a T-shirt. The person hiding smacked into the chair.

Noah grinned.

“So close.”

The guy crawled out, rubbing his head. “You scared me,” he said with a nervous laugh. “I thought this was a good spot, too.” He wrenched the band off his wrist and Noah pocketed it.

One down.

Noah squinted until he could see the huge analog clock hung on the wall; eleven twenty-something.

Less than nine minutes left to make a splash .

There wasn’t anyone else in the cafeteria, and even if there was, the talking gave him away; it wasn’t worth sticking around.

Turning the corner, the flicker of light caught his attention. He wedged himself behind a locker.

Waiting.

Listening.

Less than a minute later? Two bracelets down.

Noah moved on, his steps quicker now, more confident.

The adrenaline and fear in the air tasted damn good. High school always smelled like ink and desperation to him, but this was so much nicer.

Every catch was more exciting than the next, his pulse pounding in his ears.

Inside was too closed in, too predictable. His voice echoed in the hallways.

Instead, he headed toward the glass doors—the shuffling and flashlights drawing him outside.

Through the exit, it was all sticky humidity and the distant rumble of traffic. The courtyard was dimly lit, floodlights casting long shadows over the benches and trees.

Noah spotted movement near one of the tall hedges.

Soon he had three bracelets in his pocket.

He was getting there. Slow, but steady.

Crossing the courtyard, he stuck to the less lit areas. His ears strained, listening for any hint of someone hiding—breath, movement, a phone’s chirp or buzz.

Then, he saw it.

A blob of a shadow crouched low beneath the bleachers.

Noah paused, tilting his head .

The person shifted, and in that moment, the faint glint of glasses was the only thing he could focus on.

Noah’s heart slammed against his ribcage, blood roaring, drowning out everything else.

That familiar shape—tall and lanky as it adjusted—it was Benji .

Benji was crouched low, shoulders rising and falling. He didn’t look like he’d noticed a single thing. Too sure on his hiding spot. Probably thinking he had outsmarted everyone.

Typical Benji.

Noah inched forward, silent against the dirt, every step deliberate.

Less than an arm’s length away, he struck.

Yanked Benji backward by his collar until he heard the choking gasp.

“Time for us to talk, Ben-Ben,” Noah whispered, lips brushing against his ear.

But something was off.

He couldn’t smell Benji’s usual cheap cologne.

The realization hit Noah as a solid elbow slammed into his stomach.

His world dissolved into a splatter of white dots. Shock washed over him first, then the nausea came.

“Get off,” the voice didn’t belong to Benji either. “Get off me. ”

Why do you sound familiar?

Noah’s grip loosened, fingers still tangled in fabric. Not a suit jacket. Heavier. Thicker. More hoodie or flannel than business. It didn’t make sense to wear that in 90-degree heat while he was dying in a damn tank top.

“ Holy shit ,” the guy wheezed. “You can’t grab the hiders. Isn’t that still against the rules?”

The shock hadn’t settled when the guy spun around, and Noah was face-to-face with a pair of oversized glasses.

“Get. Off ,” dude repeated through clenched teeth, breath hot with beer and mint.

Noah let go, lifting his hands in mock surrender.

“My bad. I thought you were someone else.”

That glare didn’t falter as the guy ran his hands through his hair, sweat pouring down his face. “Yeah, no shit Sherlock. Figured that part out. Oh my god .”

“I said I was sorry .”

Noah kept his hands raised, and the guy seemed to calm down—a deer caught in headlights. More scared than violent.

His eyes dropped down to the hoodie and heavy jeans; the only people who’d wear that getup were psychopaths or masochists.

If he focused, he could read the name tag: Theodore Lambert .

“You’re not gonna tap me out or whatever?”

“You want me to?” Noah asked. “You don’t have to be here if you don’t want to, Teddy.”

He’d screwed up—no question about it—and nearly pounded the wrong guy’s face into the ground.

But this was a different type of fun.

“Theo. T-H-E-O. I’m here for the money, you dick. ”

Noah’s eyebrow raised and his grin slid back into place. “If you’re playing, then go. I’ll pretend this never happened.”

Theo was already stepping away. “You planning on strangling me again?”

“Oh, come on. I barely touched you!”

“Go fuck yourself, Noah,” Theo spat. “That shit hurt.”

He looked even more cautious— terrified despite all the fake bravery.

Noah shifted his foot forward.

Theo didn’t wait . He turned and bolted, sneakers loud as he disappeared into the dark.

Doubling over, Noah couldn’t stop laughing. Even if it hurt like hell.

That’s who you are.

He hadn’t been sure at first, but that determined fuck yourself? Told him everything he needed to know.

Bathroom guy!

Fate hadn’t forgotten about Noah after all.

And he knew exactly who to ask to figure out who Mister Theodore Lambert was.

Because if someone knew Noah’s name, then he knew theirs. But the nerdy redhead hadn’t even registered on his radar before now.

It looked like coming back to Eunice wasn’t a bad deal.