"I dare you to lick the flagpole," Walker said, grinning like he'd just won the lottery.
Joel groaned and wiped his hands on his jeans. "That's so January. Try harder." The afternoon sun baked the concrete steps where they sat—five of them in a loose semicircle, backs against the chain-link fence, sneakers scuffed from three rounds of wallball before they'd given up.
Jovie flicked a pebble at Walker's knee. "You always pick the dumbest dares. Like that time you made Oakley eat a live goldfish."
Oakley came barreling around the corner of the school, his oversized hoodie flapping like wings, clutching a battered cardboard box to his chest. "Yo, I found these in the art room dumpster!" he panted, skidding to a stop in front of them. The box was half-crushed, the words "Saltine Crackers – School Cafeteria" barely legible under a smear of purple paint.
Valerie wrinkled her nose. "Those expired in, like, 2018."
"Perfect," Walker said, snatching the box from Oakley's hands. He shook it like a maraca, producing a sad, dusty rattle. "New dare. Eat three."
Jovie groaned, but Joel's eyes lit up. "Wait—if you're gonna do expired crackers, we gotta make it interesting." He snatched the box back and pried open the flaps. Inside, the crackers had fused into a single pale brick, dotted with suspicious green flecks. "Oh hell no," Valerie muttered, scooting backward.
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