Chain Letter Omnibus

by Christopher Pike

  No one was jealous of me. I had finished tenth in our class and my SAT scores equaled Debbie’s, but I hadn’t bothered to apply to college. It was a money thing, I didn’t have any. And I couldn’t apply for financial aid because my father was rich.

  Silly me, I kept hoping my father would suddenly remember he had a daughter who had just graduated high school and who needed six figures just to get an undergraduate degree. But so far he had not called, or written, or e-mailed me.

  My mom didn’t appreciate his silent rejection. She bitched about it whenever she had a chance. But I took the rejection in stride. I only cried about it when I was alone in my bed at night.

  I hardly knew my dad but it was weird—I missed him.

  “I enjoyed your speech,” Jimmy said to Debbie as he and Ted climbed aboard in a deserted parking lot far away from any stray parental eyes.

  “Thank you,” Debbie said. “I was afraid it was too long. The last thing I wanted to do was bore people.”

  Christ, I thought. Her thirty-minute speech had been twenty minutes too long. I knew because neither Alex nor I could remember the last twenty minutes.

  Debbie had spoken on the environment, of all things. What did she know about that? She had grown up in a goddamn desert. We didn’t have an environment, not really, just a bunch of sand and dirt.

  “Your point on the impact of methane versus carbon-dioxide gases on global warming was important,” Ted said. “It’s a pity the tundra’s melting so fast. I wouldn’t be surprised if the world’s temperature increases by ten degrees in our lifetimes.”

  “Won’t happen,” Alex said, swinging onto the interstate and jacking our speed up to an even ninety. She always sped and often got stopped by the cops. But so far she had yet to get a ticket. Go figure.

  “Why do you say that?” Ted asked.

  “We’ll never live that long. We’ll die of something else,” Alex said.

  “Like what?” Jimmy asked.

  Alex shrugged. “That’s my point. Here we’re worrying about carbon dioxide raising the temperature and now it turns out methane is the real culprit. That’s the way of the world, and the future. You can’t predict nothing.”

  “Anything,” Debbie muttered.

  “Whatever,” Alex said.

  “What are you majoring in at UCLA?” Jimmy asked Alex.

  “Psychology. I figure there’s going to be a lot of depressed people pretty soon.”

  “You plan to cash in on their sorrows?” Debbie asked.

  “Why not?” Alex replied.

  “You’re so altruistic,” Debbie said sarcastically.

  Alex laughed. That was one of her great qualities—she was almost impossible to insult. “I’m a realist, that’s all.” She added, “Jessie thinks the same way I do.”

  “Not true,” I said. “No one thinks the same way you do.”

  Alex glanced over. “You have the same attitude. Don’t deny it.”

  “My attitude changes from day to day.” Ever so slightly I shifted my head to the left, to where I could see Jimmy. I added, “Today I feel totally optimistic.”

  Jimmy was dressed simply, in jeans and a red short-sleeved shirt. His brown hair was a little long, a little messy, but to me it had been a source of endless thrills. It might have been because it was thick and fine at the same time, but when I used to run my fingers through it, I always got a rush. Especially when he would groan with pleasure. One night, I swear, I did nothing but play with his hair.

  His eyes matched his hair color, yet there was a softness to them, a kindness. People might think “kind” an odd word to apply to a guy but with Jimmy it fit. He was careful to make the people around him feel comfortable, and he didn’t have to say much to put others at ease.

  When we had dated, the one thing I had loved most about him was how he could sit across from me and stare into my eyes as I rambled on about my day. It didn’t matter what I said, he always made me feel like the most important person in the world.

  It had been early October when he asked me out. He came into the city library where I worked and we struck up a conversation in the back aisles. I knew he was dating Kari so I kept up a wall of sorts. I did it automatically, perhaps because I had liked him since our freshman year.

  He must have sensed it but he didn’t say anything about being broken up with Kari. It was possible they were not formally divorced at that exact moment. He kept the banter light. He wanted to know what I was going to do after graduation. He was in the same boat as me. Good grades, no money.

  He left the library without hitting on me for my number. But a week later he magically called and asked if I’d like to go to a movie. I said sure, even before he explained that he was free and single. He picked me up early on a Friday and asked if I felt like going to Hollywood. Great, I said, anything to get out of Apple Valley. We ended up having dinner and watching three movies at the Universal CityWalk. We didn’t get home until near dawn and when he kissed me good night, I was a total goner.

  First love—I still feel it’s the one that matters the most.

  We spent the next ten weeks together and it was perfect. I was in a constant state of joy. It didn’t matter if I ate or drank or slept. I just had to see him, think of him, and I’d feel happy.

  We made love after a month, or I should say after thirty dates. He swung by on a Saturday after work. He was a mechanic at the local Sears. My mother was at work at the nearby Denny’s, where she was the manager, and I was in the shower. I didn’t know he was coming. Later, he said he’d tried knocking but got no answer. That was his excuse for peeking inside my bedroom. But my excuse, for inviting him into my shower, I can’t remember what it was. I don’t think I had one.

  It didn’t matter—once again, it was perfect.

  I felt something profound lying in his arms that I had never imagined a human being could feel. I was absolutely, totally complete, as if I had spent my entire life fragmented. Just a collection of cracked pieces that his touch, his love, was able to thrust together and make whole. I knew I was with the one person in the world who could allow me to experience peace.

  Later, when I tried to explain my feelings to Alex, she looked at me like I was crazy, but I sensed she was jealous. Despite her many lovers, I knew that she had never felt anything close to what I had with Jimmy.

  Six weeks after our shower, he was gone.

  No, that would have been easier, had he just vanished. Had he died, I think it would have been simpler to bear. But no, I had to see him every day at school, Monday through Friday, with Kari—until she graduated early, at the end of January. He told me he had to go back to her. He didn’t say why. But watching them holding hands across the courtyard, I couldn’t help but feel the smiles and laughter he shared with her were all fake.

  But Alex said they looked real to her.

  And she was my best friend. I had to believe her.

  “Jessie,” Jimmy said, startling me. It was possible my discreet peek out of the corner of my eye had accidentally lengthened into a long, lost stare. Had he caught me looking at him? He was too polite to say. He quickly added, “Do you guys know where you’re staying?”

  “At the MGM. Aren’t you? That’s where our class got the group rate.” I paused. “Don’t tell me you don’t have a reservation.”

  He hesitated. “I wasn’t sure I could get off work this weekend. By the time my boss finally said okay, I tried calling every hotel on the Strip but they were booked. I thought when we got there I’d see if there were any cancellations.”

  “That will be tricky on the weekend,” Debbie warned.

  “No biggie—you can always stay with us,” Alex said.

  A tense silence ensued. Ted must have immediately shorted out at the thought of Jimmy sleeping in the same suite as me. The idea drove me nuts as well, but for radically different reasons. Debbie was annoyed that a guy might be staying with us period. Despite her lust for Ted, she was a prude. She glared at Alex and spoke in a deadly tone.


  “Nice of you to volunteer our accommodations.”

  Alex ignored the sarcasm. “Hey, the more the merrier.” I knew what was coming next. Alex was never going to let me get away without putting me on the spot. She glanced my way and smiled wickedly. “Let’s vote on it. Jessie, you okay with Jimmy sleeping in our suite?”

  I had to act cool, I thought, it was my only escape.

  “As long as we get to use his body in whatever way we see fit.”

  Alex offered me five. “Amen to that, sister!”

  I gave her five while the three in the backseat squirmed. Ted turned to Jimmy. “If you get stuck, stay with me and Neil. We can always call down for a cot.”

  “You’re rooming with Neil Sedak?” Alex asked, stunned. “That guy’s never stepped out of Apple Valley in his life. Plus he was our class valedictorian, which means he’s got to be a nerd.”

  “You have something against nerds?” I asked.

  “I love nerds!” Alex said. “You know me, I’m never ashamed to admit my best friend works at the library. But I’m talking about Ted’s rep here. Ted, if you spend a night with Neil, everyone will assume you’re unfuckable.”

  “Hardly,” I said. “I know two girls who’ve slept with Neil.”

  “Who?” Alex demanded, getting out the first half of the word before suddenly grinding to a halt. I smiled at her knowingly.

  “Is someone forgetting a certain confession?” I asked.

  Alex acted cool. “Confession is private.”

  “Oh, my God, Alex. You didn’t,” Debbie squealed with pleasure. Screwing Neil the Nerd went above and beyond the UCLA admission-man rumor. This one would be all over Las Vegas before the weekend was done. Alex cast me a dirty look.

  “Tell her it ain’t so,” she ordered.

  “It’s possible it ain’t so,” I said. There was more truth to Alex’s remark than I let on. I was a bit of a nerd. The reason I worked at the library was because I loved to read. I was addicted. I read everything: fiction, nonfiction, mysteries, sci-fi, horror, thrillers, biographies, romance novels, all the genres, even magazines and newspapers. It was probably why my brain was stuffed with so much arcane information.

  “Explain that I was only joking about Neil,” Alex insisted.

  The sex secrets of Alex and Neil could have gone on another hour if Jimmy hadn’t interrupted. He was not a big one for gossip.

  “I don’t give a damn about Neil’s sex life,” Jimmy said. “But I do appreciate your offer, Ted. If I get stuck for a place to stay, I’ll give you a call.”

  “No problem,” Ted said, a note of relief in his voice. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a card. “Here’s a fake ID if you plan to gamble.”

  “Great.” Jimmy studied it. “This license looks real.”

  “It’s not,” Ted warned. “Don’t use it at the MGM’s front desk to check in. It’ll fail if it’s scanned. But don’t worry about gambling at the other hotels. I haven’t seen them scan IDs on the casino floors.”

  “How do you know?” Jimmy asked.

  “He’s been to Vegas tons,” Alex said. “He’s a master card counter.”

  “Wow.” Jimmy was impressed. “Is it hard to learn?”

  Ted shrugged, although it was obvious he enjoyed the attention. “It takes a good memory and hard work. But you don’t have to be a genius to do it.”

  “You should teach us all this weekend,” Debbie said, a bold comment coming from her. Ted shrugged.

  “I can teach you the basics. But it takes hours of practice to make money at it. And the casinos keep changing the rules, making it harder to get an edge.”

  “The bastards,” Alex muttered.

  We reached Las Vegas before sunset so we weren’t treated to the famous colorful glow suddenly rising out of the desert night. It was a curious phenomenon, I thought, but during the day Las Vegas looked far from imposing. Just a bunch of gaudy buildings sticking out of the sand. But I knew when night fell, the magic would emerge, and the town would transform itself into one gigantic adult ride.

  Alex drove straight to the MGM, where we checked in to our room, a decent-sized suite with a view of the Strip and three separate bedrooms—plus a central living area that came equipped not only with a sofa but a love seat. The price wasn’t bad, one hundred and fifty bucks: fifty bucks when split three ways. Still, the weekend was ruining my savings. The library was not exactly a high-paying place to work.

  With the sofa and love seat, we had room for another two people. But Jimmy, damn him, was too much of a gentleman to impose. He also seemed reluctant to take Ted up on his offer. He tried his best to find his own room, using our hotel-room phone to call several hotlines that supposedly could find you a suite on New Year’s Eve. But it was all hype; it was Friday evening at the start of summer and Las Vegas was bursting at the seams. Jimmy struck out.

  “This couch is softer than my bed,” Alex said, sitting not far from where Jimmy had just finished dialing. I was glad we had temporarily left Ted—who had gone off to find his own room. Alex, it seemed, was determined that Jimmy stay with us.

  “We settled the sleeping arrangements in the car,” Debbie said, studying the minibar. Because it was filled with tiny bottles of liquor, and we had checked in to the room using our real IDs, the bar should have been off-limits. But Ted had managed to bypass the locking mechanism before departing for his quarters. I was glad, I loved minibars. The snacks tasted ten times better to me, probably because they cost ten times as much as they were supposed to.

  “When we talked about it in the car, we didn’t know this suite would be so large,” Alex said.

  “We only have one bathroom,” Debbie growled.

  “Do you plan on spending the weekend throwing up?” Alex asked.

  Jimmy interrupted. “Hey, it’s okay—remember, I’ve got Ted’s room as a backup. Don’t worry about me.”

  Alex went to reply, but then her eyes slipped from Jimmy to me. Her unspoken message couldn’t have been clearer. She wasn’t worried about Jimmy, she was worried about me. Or else she was trying to force the two of us back together, which, in her bizarre mind, was the same thing.

  It didn’t matter. The elephant standing in the room had just quietly roared. It could no longer be ignored. Jimmy and I had to talk—soon, and alone. But I felt too nervous to say it aloud. I stood and caught his eye, and headed toward my room. Jimmy understood, he followed me and shut the door behind him.

  Before I could figure out where to sit, or what I should say, he hugged me. The gesture caught me by surprise. I didn’t hug him back, not at first, but when he didn’t let go, I found my arms creep up and around his broad shoulders. It felt so perfect to stand there and listen to his heartbeat. Yes, that word again, I could not be free of it when I was around Jimmy.

  The hug was warm but chaste; he didn’t try to kiss me. He didn’t even move his arms once he had ahold of me. Although we were standing up, we could have been lying down together, asleep in each other’s arms. I don’t know how long the hug lasted but it felt like forever . . . compressed into a moment.

  Finally, we sat on the bed together. He was holding my hands, or trying to, but I had to keep taking them back to wipe away the silly tears that kept running over my cheeks. He didn’t rush me to speak. But he never took his eyes off me, and I felt he was searching my face for the answer to a question he had carried with him a long time.

  Of course, I had my own question.

  “Why?” I said. The word startled me more than him. It felt so blunt after our tender moment. The question didn’t offend him, but he let go of me and sat back on the bed, propping himself up with a pillow.

  “Do you remember the day we drove to Newport Beach?” he asked.

  “Yes.” It had been during Christmas break, a few days before the holiday. I wasn’t likely to forget because it was to turn out to be the worst Christmas of my life. He dumped me December 22. Then I hadn’t known what to do with the presents I had bought, or the ones I h
ad made for him. In the end, I hadn’t done anything. I still had them in my bedroom closet. They were still wrapped.

  “When we got back to Apple Valley, Kari was waiting at my house.” Jimmy paused. “She said she was ten weeks pregnant.”

  I froze. “We were together ten weeks.”

  Jimmy held up a hand. “I never slept with her once I was with you. I never even kissed her.”

  “I believe you.” And I did—he didn’t have to swear. Jimmy was incredibly rare; he didn’t lie. I added, “Did you believe her?”

  “She had an ultrasound with her.”

  “That doesn’t mean it was yours.”

  “Jessie . . . ”

  “Saying, ‘I’m pregnant, Jimmy, you have to come back to me.’ That’s like the oldest trick in the book.”

  “I know that. I know Kari’s not always a hundred percent straight. But I just had to look in her eyes. She was telling the truth.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t know.”

  “And she was showing a little bit.”

  “At ten weeks?” I asked.

  “It might have been twelve.”

  “And it might have been a folded-up pillowcase.”

  He hesitated. “No. She lifted her shirt. It was for real.”

  “And she wanted to keep it.”

  “Yes. That wasn’t an issue.”

  “She wanted you back. That was the issue.”

  He lowered his head. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  It was a lot to digest. It was a minute before I could speak.

  “You should have told me,” I said.

  “I’m sorry. I wanted to, but I felt it would hurt you more to know she was having my baby.”

  I shook my head. “You’ve been good so far, real good, but that, what you just said, is nuts. Nothing could hurt worse than that call I got. Do you remember it? ‘Hello, Jessie, how are you doing? Good? That’s good. Hey, I’ve got some bad news. I don’t know exactly how to tell you this. But Kari and I are getting back together. I know this is sort of sudden, and the last thing I want to do is hurt you, but Kari and I . . . we’re not done yet. We have stuff we have to work out. Are you there, Jessie?’ ”