14
Dani
By the fifth time Kevin demanded that I restart the song as soon as it ended, I was sick of it and the sound of my own voice. Molly must have felt the same way because she slurred out the side of her mouth, “Don’t you know any other songs?”
Her eyes were narrow slits, but I took it as a very good sign that she felt enough like herself to complain about my singing.
As I finished the verse, I tried to come up with another song I knew well enough to sing all the way through. This time, when Kevin said, “Again,” I started singing, “Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall.”
“No!” Kevin shouted. In his fury, he flicked his pocket knife open and hurled it at me.
Panicked, I quickly ducked my head. I heard the blade whizz by my ear––dangerously close––before it clanked against the ca
