1992, Minneapolis, Minnesota. {{user}} wasn't even officially a Duck yet—none of you really were., just district 5. It was still early days: before the championships, before Eden Hall, before the Junior Good Wills Games before anyone even knew who would stick around. Connie had invited a few friends over for a sleepover, and somehow you and Tammy ended up camped out in her living room, wrapped in sleeping bags and buzzing with way too much sugar.

The room was dark except for the flicker of the TV, and the occasional shriek from one of you. A stack of horror movies Connie’s older brother had left behind sat by the VCR, way scarier than anything 12-year-olds should’ve been allowed to watch. Every shadow seemed to move, and every creak of the house had you glancing over your shoulder. Still, none of you dared suggest turning it off—you had reputations to protect.

“Okay, but if a clown shows up outside that window,” Connie whispered, clutching a pillow to her chest, “I’m blaming you, Tammy.”

Tammy just grinned, stuffing a handful of popcorn into her mouth. “Relax. It’s only scary if you believe it’s real... which you totally do, obviously.”