Pretty Savage

by T. A. Kunz

  The whole ordeal was a couple hours of me awkwardly interacting in close quarters with people I’d been avoiding since the beginning of the year. I had hoped that working on Lori’s idea for the dance would prove to be therapeutic, and I wanted to pump everyone there for information on Carrie. It didn’t work out that way. I came away with no more info than I already had on Carrie, and working on the dance only made me miss Lori more.

  Now I stand under the safety of the metal overhang, staring out at the student parking lot and waiting for this to all blow over. It figured I forgot my umbrella in my car today of all days. Not that it would help much since I’d still get drenched from the waist down with the direction the rain is falling.

  Tension mounts between my temples, a dull ache that rapidly transforms into a slow pound. This weather isn’t helping matters at all.

  “Afraid you’ll melt?” a deep voice asks from behind me.

  There’s no mistaking that voice, and a small shiver of anticipation tickles my spine. It’s Harrison. I’ve heard it so much these past couple days that it’s hard to forget now. Or is it that I don’t want to forget it?

  Get a grip.

  He joins me at my side standing dangerously close. He smells nice … clean, like a brand-new bar of soap fresh out of the box. Then I am enveloped in a faint cloud of mint when he exhales.

  “After you,” I say, waving my hand out toward the parking lot.

  He laughs and shakes his head. “So, are you going to be in the stands tomorrow at the game?”

  I feel him look at me, but I keep staring forward, hoping he’ll get the hint I’m not in the mood to talk. I suspect he knows and maybe just wants to push my buttons.

  It’s clear he’s been flirting with me as of late. So have I with him, to an extent. It tears me up that I can’t give him what he wants. I think deep down I want to, but I’m confused. There’s a ton I have to sift through before I can get there. My life’s too chaotic right now, some of which is my own doing.

  It’s not fair to him. I should be more direct. I should tell him I need space.

  Instead, I remain silent because I’m at a loss for how to put it. Why can’t I just tell him? Maybe I don’t want to. Maybe I’m selfishly entertaining all of this because of how he makes me feel. The distraction of it all.

  “I’m sort of nervous, to be honest,” he continues. “There’s going to be a college scout in the stands, so extra pressure.”

  “Oh, stop it. You’ll do fine.” The conviction in my voice surprises me when I speak. It’s like I felt compelled to say it that way.

  Why can’t I feel compelled to say other things?

  “Ah, you are still there. I was beginning to suspect I was talking to myself.”

  My head snaps to face him and slams into his hazel gaze. After a moment of me wavering on how to reply, I recoil and resume my staring contest with the parking lot.

  Why am I like this right now?

  He sighs, and it’s like a knee to the gut. “You know you can always talk to me, right? About anything.”

  Thud.

  Thud.

  Thud.

  There goes my damn heart again.

  “I know,” I reply. “I’ve just had a not so great day today.”

  “Understandable. Want to talk about it?” His voice is low and thoughtful.

  “Not really,” I reply with a light shake of my head.

  Another sigh from him. Another hit to the gut.

  “Fair enough,” he says.

  Though I can’t admit it right now, I am grateful for his silence and his strong presence as he stands there next to me staring out at the rain. At the same time, I feel bad he’s seeing me acting like this.

  I glance up and spy a ghost of a smile on his lips.

  What is he thinking about? Why is he putting himself through this?

  “You don’t have to stay here, you know,” I say.

  “I know.”

  Another bout of silence falls between us. It’s nice. He’s kind of like my calm in the midst of this storm. And he’s quickly becoming my anchor.

  Now there’s a thought.

  “Just so you … well, I think you should come tomorrow,” he says after a couple minutes.

  He presents his umbrella and props it open. I once again gaze up at his soft smile. This time, he’s staring right at me.

  “There’s room for one more under here,” he hints.

  I shake my head delicately and avert my eyes. “Thank you, but I think I’m going to wait it out. Be alone with my thoughts, you know?”

  I see him give a brief nod out of the corner of my eye before he takes a step off the curb and enters the rain. I lose sight of him the further he ventures out as the downpour obscures his image. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a tad disappointed at myself for not going with him. It was sweet of him to offer like that, but I if had accepted, I’d be sending him signals I don’t know if I’m ready to commit to yet.

  “Okay, you can stop anytime you want to,” I mutter at the rain.

  A car pulls up in front of me under the metal awing. The passenger side window slides down and I duck to get a look at the driver. It’s Harrison and his incredible smile again.

  “Hop in. I’ll take you to your car,” he says.

  “Seriously you don’t have to. I can wait it out.”

  He taps the passenger seat. “I know, but humor me, please?”

  I’m overcome by his thoughtfulness. I don’t deserve his generosity. His attention.

  It would be rude of me to decline.

  He leans over and opens the door from the inside before retreating back. I grab the handle and pull it open the rest of the way. There’s a bigger smile on his face as I relax into the seat.

  “Where are you parked?”

  “Near the back of the lot. By the fence next to the woods. I got here late today,” I explain. I’m a jumbled mixture of nerves and contentment.

  “Sounds good.”

  “Thank you,” I say, glancing over at him, a small smile flickering on my lips.

  “You’re welcome.”

  My gaze drifts out the window. I focus on the erratic water trails zipping diagonally across the pane in an attempt to calm my ever-increasing heart rate.

  “If you’re cold, you can adjust the vents. I run warm, so my AC is always on full blast.”

  “I’m good, thanks.”

  I feel a little ridiculous sitting here freezing while trying to hold the shivers at bay in order to prove I wasn’t lying. Then a question enters my mind. “Hey, Harrison?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Did you know a girl named Carrie Phillips?”

  His shoulders droop as his face becomes reflective. “Wow, I haven’t heard that name in a while. Yeah, I knew her. A really sad story.”

  “Sad story? You mean about how she died?”

  “Exactly,” he says as he pulls into an empty spot near my car.

  “What did you know about her? Were you friends?”

  “In a way, I guess. She died a week before our freshman year started. She moved here during eighth grade, and from what I remember she blended in pretty well at school. The guys were into her, that’s for sure.” He unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to face me. “What’s with all the interest? And how is it you don’t know about Carrie? She was, like, one of Lori’s good friends. Didn’t she ever talk about her?”

  “She did, but not much.” I go to open my door. “Never mind. Don’t worry about it.”

  Walls back up.

  “Wait a sec. I’ll get that,” says Harrison.

  He leaves the car under the protection of his umbrella and approaches my door, pulling it open and shielding me from the rain as I take a step out. With one hand grasped around the umbrella, he holds open his letterman jacket with his other to help block the wind. We huddle close together as he escorts me to my car. I only hope he can’t feel my heart racing from being this close to him.

  He continues playing the part of huma
n shield from the rain the best he can while I open my car door and get situated inside. He holds the door open, maintaining a block from the rain with the umbrella.

  “You’re not alone in all of this, Drea,” he says. “You have people you can rely on. Remember that, okay?”

  I nod. “I’ll try. Thank you.”

  “Of course. Take care, Drea,” he says as he shuts the door.

  I watch him hurry back to his vehicle and jump inside. He pulls out of the lot, leaving me a conflicted mess.

  This would be easier if he was a jerk.

  I sigh and pull out my cell to shoot a text to Donovan.

  Call me tonight when you have time please.

  I stow away the phone and stare out the window at the wind and rain lashing the wall of trees in front of me. I can relate to those trees. I hope, like them, my roots are strong enough to withstand everything heading my way.

  Something tells me this is only the beginning.

  Donovan

  As the storm rages outside, I feel like I’m in this bubble of safety amongst Connor and his group. Gone is the tension from earlier, replaced with a fun atmosphere. We’ve played countless games already, charades being my least favorite thus far. I’m not a huge fan of being the center of attention, which is all charades is when it’s your turn. It was exponentially more fun when the others were up.

  I find myself relaxing more into this groove, like I’m carving out my own little niche with these people. It’s refreshing, but I know the moment I leave this barn, reality will slam full-force into me. For now, this is what I need. What I’ve been craving. The feeling of belonging.

  My phone vibrates in my pocket and I pull it out to see a text from Drea. A conflict between my heart and head ensues as I stare at the preview notification and see Call me tonight….

  “Everything okay? Do you need to get going?” Connor leans over to ask.

  I put my phone away. “No, I’m fine.”

  “Good,” he says with a wide grin.

  I could most definitely get used to this.

  Guilt punches me in my gut when my mind floats back to Drea’s text and I wonder if she needs me. Selfishly, I don’t want this moment to end. I know if I text or call her back, this will all change. The bubble will burst.

  And there goes the self-imposed guilt piling on thicker.

  My hand suddenly feels wrapped in warmth. The warmth turns into a bonafide bonfire happening on my knee. Connor’s hand rests on top of mine and I feel the heat spread from my hand up my arm before scattering across my whole body. I stare at our hands nestled together for probably longer than I should. My heart rate increases ten-fold as I shift my gaze up to him.

  “Want another drink?” he asks.

  My words get lost around my tongue for a second. “I’m okay. Thanks though,” I finally get out.

  Whatever comfort I was feeling goes right out the window after that whole exchange. I’m so tense I feel like a constipated meerkat or something.

  He releases my hand and taps it softly. “Okay. Be right back.”

  “Donovan, are you ready for the final game of the evening?” Shaun asks as he cracks open a new can of beer.

  “Sure, and I just want to say that I’m glad I came out tonight.”

  “I’d wait until after this next one to say that,” says Carter.

  His words cause a yellow caution flag to spring up in my head.

  “Would you stop, Carter?” Tawni chastises him. “And you were doing so well up until then too.”

  “Oh, he knows I’m kidding. Don’t you, Donnie?” he asks before taking a swig of his drink.

  I’m surprised when he calls me Donnie. Lori and Marcus are the only two people who have used that nickname. I wonder if Lori talked about me with them or if he just came up with it on his own.

  “Yeah, of course,” I reply with an unsure laugh.

  “Well, we’re glad you came tonight too,” Nancy adds with a smile.

  “By the way, Donnie Boy, this next game is the reason why we needed an odd number,” Geoff chimes in. “It’s kind of a twist on Two Truths and One Lie.”

  “What’s the twist?” I ask as Connor returns to the seat next me.

  Shaun dips away for a moment and returns with a box … a matte black cube, to be exact. He removes the lid and pulls out a mask, one that I immediately recognize from the night at Mae’s Lounge when I performed with Marcus. This one has a cruder feel to it though, with the fox head lined out in thin strips of bright orange duct tape instead of neon pink glow bands.

  “Hey, I saw something similar at the bar on Monday,” I say.

  Shaun shoots a look of confusion my way. “Really? This is the only one we have and it was homemade. Not sure what you saw, but it probably wasn’t this.”

  “Have you played Two Truths and a Lie before, Donovan?” Nancy asks. She moves over to Shaun and snatches the mask away from him.

  “Yeah, I think so. Maybe at a couple of middle school parties or something. Not recently though.”

  “We call our version Fox Hunt. Hence, the mask.” Nancy puts it up to her face and then brings it back down to rest in her lap. “The rules of the game are simple. One person wears the mask and the rest of the group splits into two teams. We all write two truths and one lie on pieces of paper and then take turns reading them aloud. It’s the job of the fox to sniff out the lies. If any person is able to fool the fox, then that team gets a point. The ones who get sniffed out, though, are eaten by the fox and have to sit out until one side is crowned the winner. Each round, the survivors have to get more personal with their truths and lies, and eliminated players on the opposite team will judge whether they went deep enough. The fox has to rely on their keen senses in order to tell who’s lying or not. And yes, just in case you’re wondering, the eye holes on the mask are covered for an added challenge,” she concludes with a flourish.

  Connor stands up and takes the mask from Nancy before returning to his seat. “Are you sure you want to play?”

  I nod. “Sure, sounds interesting.”

  He hands me the mask. “Okay. Since you’re the guest, you have the honor of being the fox for tonight’s game.”

  “Where did you guys come up with the idea for this?” I ask, analyzing the mask. It’s oddly eerie, yet simplistic.

  “It was kind of the brain-child of Nancy, Shaun, and—” Geoff begins, then cuts himself off as he glances around the room at everyone in attendance. “Another friend not in the group anymore,” he finishes.

  Did the mood in the room just change again?

  “Yeah, and the mask was actually made by them too,” Tawni adds.

  “But the reason we’re playing this tonight is in honor of Lori,” explains Nancy. “She had the record for most wins, so it seems fitting to end this night with a game she loved.”

  “So, you ready to play?” Carter asks, leaning forward, hands clasped.

  “I think so,” I reply.

  “There’s no think. Only do, Donnie boy,” Geoff interjects.

  For some reason them calling me Donnie hasn’t been bothering me. Maybe it’s because they sound genuine when they say it. Like a term of endearment. Like the way Lori meant it. I loathed every time my stepfather called me chief. It seemed demeaning somehow, like he refused to call me by my real name. Either that or he didn’t care what my name was. Sometimes I wondered if he’d forgotten my name and started calling me chief to cover up that fact.

  Shaun hands out a piece of paper and pen to each person. Connor directs me to sit in the powder blue recliner to isolate myself so I can’t see what anyone is writing. When everyone finishes, they set their pens down on the coffee table and face me, all eyes focused in my direction.

  “Okay, mask on,” says Connor with that glorious smirk of his.

  I slide on the mask. The whole room disappears. Claustrophobia immediately sets in. The nose holes are small, but thankfully still allow for enough air to pass through and prevent me from hyperventilating. My breathin
g bounces around within the cheap plastic, sounding loud in my ears. It’s all I can focus on. I feel someone take my hand and I jump slightly at the touch.

  “Holy crap! You can’t do that,” I squeak out with a laugh. Everyone else joins in.

  “Sorry,” I hear Connor say. “Just wanted to make sure you’re okay. It’s a little weird putting the mask on for the first time.”

  “I’m good. Just a little disorientated and claustrophobic, but I’m okay,” I reply with an anxious laugh.

  The sound of the rain pelting the barn’s roof has intensified. I can now hear it over my breathing within the mask. A loud clap of thunder has me jumpy and unnerved. My body squirms from the sudden adrenaline rush.

  “Ready?” Carter asks.

  “Yep.”

  It takes me most of the first round to get my bearings with the game and to become more at ease in the mask. Hearing everyone speak while I’m blindfolded makes their voices sound somehow foreign, though I do end up proving to myself that I’ve gotten a good feel for these people despite only spending a few hours with them.

  The first out is Shaun. It’s easy to determine his lie. He has a tell. His voice quivers slightly at the end of his third statement.

  The second out is Geoff. His lie is another one that’s easy to catch. He said he had his first drink of alcohol at the age of fifteen, but he mentioned earlier that his older brother gave him his first swig at thirteen.

  The next out is Nancy. Hers is a little harder to figure out. I’m torn between two, but ultimately choose the right one, which is that she’s never cheated on an exam in school. She seems like a smart girl, but her whole queen bee thing led me to think she’s capable of cheating on at least one exam.

  Stereotypes, I know.

  Then it’s on to round two with Connor, Carter, and Tawni. They all played really well the first round, which has me wondering about Connor. It seems like he’s good at lying. Or is he just good at the game?

  Not sure how I feel about that.

  Carter ends up being the only one eliminated in the second round. Again, Connor is either a great liar or he’s mastered this game. Connor and Tawni take a moment to write down their statements and then show the other eliminated players for approval. Tawni gets the okay, but I have yet to hear Connor cleared.