I decided to try to make her angry, to make her want to fight. To bring out her competitive side, as if it needed much coaxing. I had to set up obstacles that would be insurmountable for ordinary people and give Jo a chance to shine. She’d be poor like everyone else, sure, but there had to be more. I started with diabetes, which limited her food options even more than Hunter’s. But that wasn’t enough.
There was one thing I could do that would make Jo’s situation nearly impossible, for so many reasons, but it required me to make assumptions about Jo’s position on certain topics that I wasn’t sure were warranted. It made Jo’s life so hard it was outright mean, but I’d been mean to Hunter too. And if anyone could handle it, Jo could. So I made her sixteen years old, on her own, and pregnant.
Timing-wise, Jo had the week to decide whether to keep the baby. Abortion was now illegal in what remained of the United States, but it was legal in Canada, so it was possible, given enough money. But Jo’s character had no money. The diabetes meant it might not be safe to carry the pregnancy to term if she couldn’t get the right food and medication; there was a good chance she or the baby wouldn’t survive. I didn’t see that her character had much choice, but the logistics were nearly impossible either way. I wanted to see if Jo could find a solution.
That left only me, but I was easy, and I was only playing in solidarity, since I couldn’t win my own game. My character was there for illustrative purposes, and so I could prepare for something that worried me: I’d be playing a native-born citizen whose naturalized parents had been sent away. I had access to their finances and food coupons, so I wouldn’t starve, but I wanted to either go to them or bring them home, both of which required money I didn’t have.
I waited until everyone had finished reading. “Any questions?”
Chloe raised her hand. “Can we pool resources?”
“Sure,” I said. “And you can barter or trade, too. Although you’ll find no one has much to spare.”
“Any restrictions on how we can spend money, if we have it?” Jo asked.
“There’s some stuff in the rules about that. You have to allocate a certain amount for housing and utilities and you have to eat enough not to die—that part’s real. Meaning you’re going to have to pretend-shop and then eat what you bought from the dining halls. But you get to decide the rest. Just remember that everything costs money—cell phones, toiletries, everything—and you have to account for it.”
“But we don’t spend money on those things now,” Chloe said.
“Yes you do; you just don’t realize it because it’s all wrapped up in tuition,” I said. “Even if you’re on scholarship, the scholarship money goes toward food and housing and keeping the buildings open and lit and heated. So you have to spend money on those things because you’re still going to take advantage of them during the game.”
“Why can’t we assume our roommate will cover at least some of those things?” Hunter asked.
“Because that’s not how the world works for most people,” I told him. “That’s what I’m trying to get across to you here.”
“What if we want more than you’ve given us?” Chloe asked. “Can we get another job, bring in more money?”
“You all have exactly as much job as you can handle. And I’m not trying to get in the way of anyone studying. No extra jobs, even for those of you who already have a side gig.” I directed that one right at Chloe. “That means no new clothes if you can’t afford to buy them, even if hypothetically someone sent them to you for free.”
Chloe groaned. “This is going to be excruciating.”
“Exactly,” I said. I couldn’t wait to get started.
10.
The game began Monday morning, the week after first-quarter finals. My nightmares had all but vanished, and I woke after a dreamless sleep with a sense of anticipation that far outstripped anything I had to do for the day, which included eating food I could afford, doing my homework, and researching my character’s project. I went to the dining hall for breakfast (eggs with black beans and salsa but no tea because I couldn’t swing it) and headed to class.
Hunter was already struggling. “I’m so tired,” he said, yawning. “I didn’t think I was that big of a coffee person, but man, that stuff is expensive. First thing to go.”
By third period I was starving, and Hunter looked like he was going to fall asleep on his textbook. “I ate nothing but protein for breakfast and it’s not even lunchtime and I feel like I’m going to pass out,” I said. “You must be dying.”
“I’ll bail if you will,” he said.
“Not a chance.” Maybe I couldn’t win, but I wasn’t about to go down in flames at my own game, either. I was glad, too, that the game seemed to be giving Hunter and me a way to be normal with each other. We’d made it through studying together for finals, but that was because we didn’t talk about anything but exams. It wasn’t weird, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable, either.
By lunchtime I was already rethinking my decision not to quit. I made my usual peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich and debated whether to eat a banana or an apple—I’d budgeted enough for one each per day, though I’d have to start eating some kind of fruit in the morning. Chloe had a salad, albeit a less colorful one than usual, while Hunter plowed his way through a bread-free pile of deli meat. So far, the three of us hadn’t changed our habits all that much.
Wyatt had, though. I ran into him at dinner, where he was balancing a tray of salad, spaghetti, and an enormous fountain soda. Usually I ate dinner by myself, reading a book in the corner, skipping the dinner rush when I knew most people were there. I liked having a little alone time. But I was curious to see how Wyatt was doing, so I brought my tray of chicken over to the cross-country table and asked if I could sit.
His face lit up. “Definitely!” He gestured to the seat across from him, and his teammates made room.
I sat down and pointed at his tray. “What’ve you got there?”
He smiled proudly. “Check it out—I did a ton of research and I found ways to get the cheapest food in the largest quantities. There are so many coupons out there! Soda is crazy cheap, and if I’m going to keep running this week it’s all about inexpensive calories and carbs.”
That explained the pasta. It also explained why he wasn’t freaking out that I hadn’t given him enough ration coupons. “I’m jealous,” I told him. “I don’t think I realized how much random stuff I eat during the day that’s off-limits now.”
Wyatt nodded, and I noticed he’d gotten a haircut. It made him look older, though I found myself missing his curls. “I’m already worried about practice tomorrow—Tuesday’s our long run, and I’m not sure there’s enough pasta in the world.”
I evaluated the trays of his teammates. “You may be right.” I’d never seen so much pasta in one place outside a buffet.
“Thanks for setting this up,” he said. “It’s kind of fun, even if it’s going to be hard. And it’s probably more practical than what we’ve been doing so far.”
“Unless the world really ends,” I said. “This will mostly be useless then.”
Wyatt shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. There’s more to this lesson than just learning to deal with scarcity, isn’t there?”
“But of course,” I said. “I threw in some tricks.”
“I can’t wait to find out more,” Wyatt said.
I was dying to know how everyone else was doing, but I hadn’t budgeted for a phone, and I didn’t have time to go to the library to email—I hadn’t budgeted for a computer, either. If I learned nothing else this week, it would be to not take my easy access to technology for granted. It felt so strange not being able to reach out whenever I wanted; I wished we’d all agreed on a regular meeting place, if only to check in.
I wasn’t alone in wanting to check in, because Chloe came by my dorm the next night. “This is already brutal!” She flopped down on my absentee roommate’s bed. “Look at me! I’m death personified!” She pointed at her face, whi
ch looked pretty much like her face always looked.
I squinted. “Not getting a Grim Reaper vibe at all.”
“Where do I even start?” Chloe really did know how to bring the drama. “I can’t afford a single one of my own skin care products, let alone makeup. I decided it was better to wear absolutely nothing than to spend part of my pittance on drugstore crap, so I’m completely naked.”
“You look entirely clothed to me,” I said.
Chloe groaned. “Face naked! I don’t even have moisturizer! Or mascara! I look like I’m asleep. For the record, it’s totally unfair not to let me use the stuff people send me for free. I don’t see how I’m going to make it through the week.”
“You’ll make it through the week because if you don’t you’ll lose, and you hate to lose,” I said. “Not to mention you’re smart enough to know that if it’s hard it’s worth trying. It means there’s something you can learn. You can pretend all you want, but you’re probably the smartest person here. You know you want to learn everything you can. Just buy some Cetaphil and that Maybelline mascara in the pink-and-green tube like normal people do and you’ll be fine.”
Chloe eyed me with an expression I hadn’t seen from her before. It was as if the Chloe I knew disappeared for a minute, replaced by someone who wasn’t always exaggerating and flirting and vamping, someone who just evaluated the situation around her impartially and then made a calculated decision how to act. Or maybe I was reading too much into the absence of makeup. But I barely caught the expression before it was gone. “Ugh, you’re right, I’m totally competitive,” she said, flipping over on the bed and propping herself up on her elbows. “And it’s true I’ve already gotten a little creative.”
“Have you now?” I asked. “How so?”
She laughed. “That’s for me to know and you to learn all about at the end of the week.”
“How’s Hunter doing?” I tried to sound casual and failed.
“Fine so far,” she said. “I figured I’m going to need help with this game, so I went and begged forgiveness, promised not to try and hook up with him anymore. Though I’m not sure that’s what he really wants.” She winked at me. “Boys, you know how they get.”
I had no idea how boys got.
“Are you two okay?” Chloe asked. “It finally feels like lunch is getting back to normal.”
“It’s been a little weird since the election,” I admitted. “It never occurred to me that I’d win and he wouldn’t.”
“You know he doesn’t really care, right? And that he’s genuinely happy for you?”
“I wasn’t sure.” For some reason I didn’t want to get into how thrown I’d been by learning about his family. I was trying to get over it. “Sounds like you’ve been talking a lot, though. You sure you’re not going to get together? Maybe you even like him, a little bit?” I tilted my head at her, and she tilted hers back at me, and then we both started cracking up. I’d missed her, I realized. We hadn’t hung out properly for a while.
“Well, it’s possible I might cave on the fooling around,” she said. “But I’ve been a teeny bit fixated on someone else.”
“Jo?” I asked, before I had time to think about it.
Chloe sat up. “See, this is what I get for wanting to be friends with a smart person. You miss nothing. Yes, I’ve definitely been flirting with both of them. Hunter went for it, of course, because he’s a guy”—I didn’t point out to her that for most of us it wasn’t a given that the person we wanted would want us back, whether that person was a guy or not—“but I just cannot get a read on Jo. She’s so mysterious! She could be ace, or into someone else, or not just into me, and I can’t tell the difference. It’s infuriating.”
“Why not just go for it with Hunter, then? If you know he likes you back.” I couldn’t believe I was pushing her toward the person I wanted, though I was starting to see that it might be possible to stop wanting him, to be okay with just being friends.
“He’s like a puppy,” she said. “It’s all right there, on the surface. Look at my big brown eyes, pet me, love me. I think I need something more complicated, you know?”
You like the drama, I wanted to say, but I didn’t. In some ways I wished I hadn’t asked. It was hard to see Hunter as she did, simple and cute and needy. I was just worried she was going to hurt him, and badly. “Have you tried talking to Jo about any of this?”
“You try and pin her down. I have no idea what she does with herself. Except Krav Maga, apparently.”
“Well, I should check in with her about the game,” I said. “I’ll let you know if I find out anything new.”
Her face brightened. “Would you? That would be so amazing.”
How strange, the thought of me helping Chloe with anything. I wasn’t at all convinced I’d learn more about Jo than Chloe had, but it was worth a try. Especially if it might save Hunter from heartbreak by getting Chloe to move on sooner rather than later.
Without my phone I couldn’t reach out to Jo, and I wasn’t sure if she was checking her email, so I decided to track her down at dinner. I had no idea when she normally ate, so I showed up with a book when the dining hall opened, sat near the entrance, and waited, scanning the tables occasionally to see if I could find her.
Finally I saw her in line for the salad bar. I put together yet another sad chicken dinner for myself and followed her to a table in the back, where she also had brought a book, clearly planning to sit by herself. “May I join you?” I asked.
Jo cocked her head, then indicated the seat across from her. “Come to check up on me? You wouldn’t be the first.”
What was that supposed to mean? She made it so hard to ask even the most basic questions. “I wanted to see how things were going.”
Her tray held an enormous salad loaded with garbanzo beans and about a million different vegetables. It looked more like a Chloe special from before the Second Civil War, but better. “I decided to go vegan—animal proteins are really expensive unless you get the cheap cuts.”
I took a bite of chicken drowned in ketchup, the cheapest condiment I could find. “Tell me about it.”
“I ended up with lots of beans, and digestive issues aside, it’s not too bad so far,” she said. “Keeps the blood sugar in check, too. Theoretically, of course.” She held up her book, which was a library copy of a book about meal planning for diabetics. She’d done her homework.
“I gave you a lot to deal with,” I acknowledged. “How are you doing with all the other stuff?”
Jo shrugged. “Still working on it. There are no rules, right? Other than the ones you gave us?”
I had to think about that. “I mean, I didn’t say don’t do anything illegal, but I hope that was implied? Although I guess it’s not clear what’s legal under the circumstances.”
“We didn’t discuss gray areas,” Jo said.
“No, we didn’t.” This was the second person hinting at creative approaches to my game. I’d have to wait until the end of the week to find out what everyone was up to. “I guess whatever you figure out will be a good lesson for us.”
The way Jo looked at me made me understand, just for a second, how she and Chloe might work as a couple. There was something about both of them I’d never understand, that perhaps I never could, and maybe they’d find it in one another. Complexity, for sure. Poor Hunter. I found myself pitying him more than wanting him, now. Chloe’s description of him had crept into my psyche, and I didn’t like it.
I was supposed to be doing some scouting of Jo for Chloe, but I wasn’t sure what Chloe wanted to know, or how I was supposed to find it out. “Has the game affected your life in any other ways? Like, can you still do Krav Maga on the diet?”
Jo eyed me, trying to figure out what I was really asking. How did she even know to do that? “Working out isn’t a problem,” she said.
“Has it been awkward, like, around other people? I feel like I’d be getting a lot of questions about what I’ve been eating if I weren’t spending so much
time with Hunter and Chloe.”
“You trying to figure out who I’m hanging out with?” she asked. “Why, are you interested?”
I hadn’t been subtle in my quest to get information for Chloe, and now I’d stepped in it. “No, I’m just trying to help. Forget it. If you have questions you know where to find me.” I started to get up from the table, trying not to knock over my tray.
“Aw, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” she said. “Just tell your friend if she wants to know anything about me she should ask me herself.”
No one could hide anything from Jo. She and Chloe really would make a good match. Hunter was doomed.
Seeing him in person the next day felt the same as it always had, except now my stomach was twisting from hunger, not longing. “How are you doing so far?” I asked him in between classes, when we were alone. “Because I have to be honest—I know this was my idea, but I’m kind of dying. If I have to eat one more chicken leg I might kill someone.”
“Please don’t,” he said. “I won’t make it through econ without you.”
I noticed he hadn’t answered my question. “What’s it like being a woman? Any observations you want to share?”
He grinned. “It’s all I’ve ever dreamed of. I’ll tell you all about it when the game’s over.”
“In it to win it, are we?” As soon as I said it, I felt bad, like I’d made a dig about the election. We still hadn’t talked about it, other than that text I’d sent. “Listen, Hunter, I’ve been meaning to—”
How to Pack for the End of the World Page 13
