Someone I Used to Know

by Patty Blount

  “I have no knowledge if they’re even planning it. I talked to the assistant coach, and he claims he’s expressly forbidden it, but you know that doesn’t mean much.”

  “So we’re the ones who have to suffer. Great.” Marlena shakes her head in disgust.

  I try to follow the conversation, but I’m obviously missing something. Seeing my confusion, Marlena explains. “It’s become a ‘tradition’ here,” she says with an eye roll and finger quotes. “A scavenger hunt the football players do every year during homecoming season.”

  “What are they supposed to find?”

  “Us,” Deanne says with a shrug. “It kind of sucks. The guys get points for how far they get. You know, a kiss is like one point, but getting to second base might get them ten or twenty.”

  “And going all the way gets like a hundred,” Marlena adds.

  My eyes bulge. “You’re kidding me.”

  All the ponytails shake.

  “That’s…that’s really low.”

  “Yeah, so don’t accept any dates. They’re just for points. But that’s not the bad part. The bad part is some of the boys try to get points any way they can. Sometimes, if there’s nobody around to see, they’ll grab you in the hallway, squeeze a boob, snap your bra, lift up your skirt.”

  “So,” Marlena continues. “That means for the next couple of weeks, everybody needs to wear shorts under your skirts and never walk anywhere alone.”

  “But…but they can’t just reach out and grab you. That’s against the law.”

  I watch the girls sigh and frown and grumble in complete disbelief.

  “Wait. That’s it? We have to follow the buddy system? Why don’t we just tell the principal?”

  Candace and Brittany exchange a horrified glance. “Ash, it’s football. The team’s got a lot of influence.”

  “So you’re saying whatever they say goes?”

  “Pretty much.” Candace shrugs. “You can go to the principal if you want. But all he’ll do is tell you he needs proof. Without proof of any wrongdoing, he won’t even consider punishing a single player on that team.”

  “That completely sucks,” Tara says, exchanging glances with me.

  “Yeah. It does.” Brittany nods. “But there’s no changing it. It’s been a tradition for years, and the boys know exactly how to get away with it. So do us a favor. Listen to Candace. Don’t accept any dates from any of the boys on the team. They won’t be real. They’ll just be setups to get points.”

  Oh my God. They’re entirely serious. I think about it for a few moments and then decide I’m not going to just sit back and look the other way. If any of those boys try to make their points from me, I won’t let them. I’ll fight back.

  “Oh, hell no.” Candace puts both hands on her hips and glares at a few of the players heading our way.

  “And so it begins,” Marlena adds with a roll of those wild eyes.

  “Ladies,” the first boy says with a wide grin, and I recognize him. He’s one of the players who was in the parking lot the day Derek ditched me.

  “Get lost, Brayden. We’re busy.”

  “Yeah? Doing what? Sitting?” the second boy asks. He sits beside Brittany, practically in her lap.

  She gives him the same look Mom gives leftovers that have sprouted mold in the refrigerator. “Brayden, take this fungus out of my personal space.”

  “Give him a kiss first.”

  “Sure.” Candace cracks her knuckles. “I’ll give him a kiss.” She punches her hand with a fist. The boy just laughs and leans over to kiss Brittany, but she jumps to her feet, still sneering. Undeterred, he gets up and tries to grab her, but she evades, until they’re circling us in a sort of duck-duck-goose chase.

  The fuse that Derek lit earlier that afternoon still burns, and I find myself abruptly infuriated by the entire idea of this sexual scavenger hunt. I stick out a foot and trip the boy from my math class, sending him sprawling to the grass.

  “Doug! Jesus, you okay, man?” Brayden rushes to his fallen teammate while everyone, including Brittany, stares at me with horrified looks. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Brayden turns on me. “You could have broken his leg, and we’d be down a player for the game.”

  “Yeah? Well, maybe your players should think about that before they try to grab people who don’t want to be grabbed,” I shoot back.

  “Oh, please! You’re just pissed because we weren’t chasing you.”

  “I don’t want you chasing anybody!”

  “Ashley, back off.” Brittany holds up her hand and goes to Doug’s side. “You really could have hurt him, you know.”

  My mouth falls open. She actually goes to him, prods his ankle, and pats his arm. When, exactly, did I fall through the portal to this alternate reality? I look around our group, and yeah, everyone is mad at me for trying to stop this stupid game.

  “He fell on grass. It’s not like I stabbed him.”

  “Yes, but he still has to be able to play.”

  “Yeah. I get it.” Football, football, football! I’m already tired of hearing about the football team, and the season has barely started. I mash my lips together, stuff my gear into my bag, and leave. Looks like I’m walking home again.

  • • •

  Furious, I stalk out of the athletic field and down the hill to the school’s entrance. I cannot believe these people. Poor little Doug almost got a boo-boo. Waaah. Maybe if poor little Doug wasn’t trying to molest girls on the field, he wouldn’t have gotten tripped. And Brittany defending him was even more messed up than Doug trying to score points from her in the first place.

  A horn honks beside me, and I whip around with a snarl. Vic holds up two hands. “Whoa! Don’t shoot!”

  I try to force my face to look regular or at least less ferocious. “Hi, Vic.”

  I guess I failed because his “Hi, Ash,” has a bite that practically leaves teeth marks. I can’t help it. I laugh.

  “There she is. So you need a ride or would you rather just stomp on the sidewalk until it cries uncle?”

  Shaking my head, I slide into his passenger seat. “Thanks. I really wasn’t in the mood to walk all the way home.”

  “What’d he do this time?”

  Another laugh. I kind of love the way Vic just gets me. “Uh, let’s see. First, he ordered me off the field and back home, then he said he doesn’t want anybody finding out we’re related. And because a huge public fight with my brother wasn’t already bad enough, I just got yelled at for the way I dealt with Doug and Brayden trying to cop a feel.”

  He looks at me sharply. “They touched you?”

  “No. Not me. Brittany. They chased her around the field for points in some stupid scavenger hunt. So I tripped him.”

  Vic bursts into laughter. “You tripped him? Holy shit, Ash. You are badass.”

  His words completely dissolve what’s left of my anger and turn me to mush. Victor Patton thinks I’m badass. Maybe this day doesn’t totally suck. He slows down for a red light, and it suddenly occurs to me that he…that I…might be nothing more than points in the same game.

  “So are you playing? In the hunt, I mean.”

  “Yes,” he admits without hesitation.

  Oh.

  I take it back. This day does totally suck.

  “It’s just a team bonding thing we do. No big deal.”

  “So is everybody playing?”

  “Sure. All the guys pulled their cards, except for that one kid. Sebastian.”

  “Even Derek?”

  Vic laughs again. “Especially Derek. He’s well on his way to a hundred points.”

  A hundred points. “But I thought that was for sex.”

  “It is,” Vic confirms, and my face heats up. “But don’t worry. He’s got it all under control. He’s hooking up with Dakota again.”

 
I stare straight ahead while he turns right at a stop sign, dread weighing me down. I don’t know Dakota. I know he went out with her a couple of times, and then he was on to somebody new. Derek may be a jerk sometimes, but he’d never use somebody just for…points. “You’re wrong. Derek wouldn’t do that.”

  Vic laughs long and loud. “Oh my God, listen to you defend him! He talks trash about you all the time, and you stick up for him?” He shakes his head in wonder. “You are too much.”

  “Okay, yeah, he treats me like crap, but that’s just to me. You know, annoying little sister. But there’s no way he’d have sex with a girl just to win some stupid game.”

  “Trust me, he would.” And then Vic waves a hand. “But the hunt isn’t all about sex. We have to do other stuff, too.”

  “Like what?”

  “Um. Well, like steal somebody’s mailbox or toss a pair of shoes over a utility line and piss on a grave. Oh, and I think at least one card says to do ten shots in less than a minute.”

  Whoa. I wrinkle my nose. “Couldn’t that, like, you know, kill somebody?”

  Vic shrugs. “I guess. Luckily, it’s not on my card.”

  Just what is on his card? I shift in my seat to look at him directly. “Am I on your card? Is this thing with me just to get your points?”

  He doesn’t reply, and when I sneak a peek at him, I see he’s clenching his jaw just like Derek does when he’s pissed off. The dread increases. Victor doesn’t say anything else until he pulls in front of my house. He turns off the car, drums his fingers on the wheel for a minute or two, and finally turns to face me.

  “There are some items on my card I could ask you for, but honestly? I’d rather ask any one of, like, a dozen seniors.”

  Oh. I look away. I didn’t expect such brutal honesty.

  “Ashley, the hunt is important to us. It builds confidence and trust, and most girls get that, so they’re all totally willing to help us out. But the thing is, I like you. And since you’re a freshman, you’re, you know, a little young for me? I’m used to girls who’ve already done…things.” He finishes with a swirl of his hand, and the dread that’s been building inside me finally bottoms out. Tears burn at the back of my eyes, and I fumble with the door handle.

  “Yeah. I get it. Thanks for the ride.”

  “Ashley, wait!” He grabs my arm and tugs me back. “I’m trying to say that you kind of have to help me out here. I don’t know where the line is, you know?”

  “The line,” I repeat.

  “Yeah. So I know not to cross it.” He smiles for a second and skims the back of his hand down my cheek, and all that dread I was feeling turns to anticipation. His hand climbs to the back of my head and tugs me closer, and I go with it until we’re just inches apart. “Like, is it okay to do this?” He moves even closer, and I hold my breath, not daring to move until his eyes close and his lips touch mine.

  His lips are so soft and oh my God! Vic is kissing me. Victor Patton, a senior, is kissing me, a freshman. Frantically, I try to remember what I’m supposed to do, but I can’t, and then I remember I should breathe before I pass out. I gasp in a breath, and when I open my mouth, Vic somehow moves closer. His hands grip my face and angle my head, and he kisses me again. I mean really kisses me…with tongue. I think I might die of terminal happiness, because this is literally the best thing that’s ever happened to me. We break apart, smiling at each other like total morons.

  “So…kissing’s okay?”

  I nod vigorously.

  “And…what about touching, like this?” Deliberately, he moves his hand to my right breast, lifting it, squeezing it. My legs bounce, and I’m on total sensory overload, but I nod again, and he laughs.

  “Got it.” He leans in and kisses me again, his hand still right there, and I forget all about Derek and the hunt and points and Doug’s stupid leg.

  I’m not entirely sure when we stopped and I went inside. In fact, I can’t remember anything after that moment until Mom poked her head into my room to call me downstairs for dinner.

  The next day, at school, I can’t wait to see Vic. Are we, like, together now? Is he…do I have an actual boyfriend? I find Tara at her locker and practically drag her into a stairwell.

  “Oh my God, Ashley, what is wrong with you?”

  I look carefully around for extra ears to overhear this epic news, but it’s all clear. “He kissed me, Tara. Vic.”

  Her eyes widen, and her lips form a perfect O. “Get out! Are you serious? When? Where?”

  I tell her all of it, right up to his hand on my boob. “Tara, tell me the truth. Do you think I’m…I’m just points to him?”

  She shakes her head vigorously. “No, like he said, there are tons of older and way more experienced girls he could do that with. He must really like you, Ashley.”

  I float through class that day. Vic drives me home every day for the rest of the week, and every day, our kisses get more and more exciting. On Friday, Tara and I are in the cafeteria during lunch. Vic always eats lunch with his teammates, and I don’t get upset about it because he’s explained it’s for team building.

  Doug, the same jerk who’d chased Brittany, walks by Derek’s table with his sidekick, Brayden. He leans in and says something that makes Dakota turn on my brother with fire in her eyes. “Oh my God, you told the team? Show me your card!” She demands, and Derek shakes his head, smiling at her, trying to calm her down.

  “I want to see your card!”

  “Uh-oh,” Tara says, popping a fry into her mouth. “Looks like your brother is in trouble.” She sings the last line. Across from us, Brittany and Candace look over their shoulders to watch the show. Candace looks amused, but Brittany looks really sad. I feel so bad for her. She really likes Derek, though exactly why she likes him is beyond my comprehension.

  Doug and Brayden, who started the drama, laugh and head to Vic’s table. I watch Vic hold up a hand for high fives. Dakota’s on her feet now, shouting at Derek, while two of her friends try to soothe her and get her out of the cafeteria.

  “No!” she screams. “I want to hear him say it. The only reason we got back together is for your stupid scavenger hunt, isn’t it? I thought you were different! But deep down, I knew it all along. That’s why I wanted to hold out, but you said you missed me. You said you loved me. I can’t believe I trusted you. Ugh! You’re paying for my homecoming dress!”

  “I’m sorry!” Derek shouts back, but she’s not buying it. He stands up, refusing to look at Dakota, collects his books and his tray, and walks away, while she screams at his retreating back. He stalks straight to the football team’s table and hauls Brayden off his seat by his shirt. A rumble grows as anticipation for the fight Derek’s about to start ripples across the entire cafeteria. Vic stands up and separates Derek and Brayden and gives Derek a little shove, and all three of them sit down, exchanging some harsh words. Their faces are red, their jaws are clenched, and fingers are pointed in faces.

  “Guess Derek’s available again,” Candace tells Brittany as they turn back around in their seats and resume eating lunch.

  Brittany doesn’t say a word.

  Neither do I. I shove my tray aside, suddenly sick because Vic was right.

  I stare at Derek, looking for something familiar, something to prove he’s still my brother, still my Leo. But it’s not there. He’s not there. Derek, my brother, is gone, and in his place is just someone I used to know, someone I thought I knew as well as I know myself.

  8

  Derek

  NOW

  LONG ISLAND, NEW YORK

  The GAR meetings are cool.

  I can’t believe I’m saying that. Ashley would never believe I’m saying that. But they’re not what I expected. Okay, I’m actually not sure what I expected, but the truth is, putting my strength behind this cause feels…right, I guess. Reminds me of this old quote I learned in history cla
ss once. Something about justice being achieved when those who aren’t injured feel as indignant as those who are.

  I guess I’m finally indignant.

  The statistics alone make me sick, and then when you add in all the additional torment survivors who come forward have to endure, it’s a wonder anybody ever gets convicted of this crime. There are stories of police who ask insulting questions and parents and teachers who immediately demand to know if the victims have been drinking. Hell—sometimes, it’s even a best friend who doubts an account. Pretty much the only thing that’s constant is that survivors will always feel like it’s their own fault.

  Does Ashley feel that way? I don’t think she does. She just blames me.

  We started off with just six of us plus Ted Vega. Now we’re nine because we managed to convince others to join us. Like Julian Waters, my roommate. I thought I was a big guy until I met him. Six and half feet tall and almost that wide, Julian’s a Rocky Hill Rockets offensive tackle, and I’m willing to bet no mere mortal has ever gotten by him. Outgoing and friendly, Julian made friends with half the team on our first day of camp, including me. Like Brittany, he’s studying psychology. He’s one of the smartest people I’ve ever met and loves to show off in the middle of conversations and blab about some psych concept he learned and thinks somebody just demonstrated, which is only amusing when it’s not you he’s lecturing.

  I told him where I was going, and he stood up and said, “I gotta check this out.”

  He signed the pledge form that day, and during our next football practice, he began preaching the GAR philosophy in the locker room when one of our teammates told some disgustingly crude joke. I, on the other hand, stood there, dumb and mute.

  Yeah. I still have a long way to go.

  We’re heading back to our dorm room after a meeting, and Julian asks, “So have you talked to your sister? Told her what you’re up to?”

  I shake my head. “No. It’s better if I don’t talk to Ashley. Justin, my brother, says I trigger her.” The word leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

  Julian nods. Words like trigger mean something to him because, you know, psych major, but I can’t help feeling resentful. I think that’s just an excuse to avoid the real problem. She’s pissed off, she hates me, and she needs to punish me.