by Kata Čuić
His tone sounds genuinely hurt, so I roll onto my back to see if his expression gives anything away. With only the light from the television, his face is painted in stark contrasts of shadow and blue light, making his birthmark appear like an optical illusion. He stares stubbornly ahead, refusing to meet my gaze.
“You hate when I talk incessantly. It annoys you. Why do you suddenly care if I prefer silence?”
He further surprises me by sputtering a few times, unable to respond. His cheeks turn an unmistakable shade of red, even in the dim light. A few heartbeats pass before he seems to regain control of himself. “I don’t care. You can be annoying. I guess I just want to know if I’m being relegated to Kieran territory now that we’re in a fake relationship. Are you going to find someone else to not talk to after you’re not actually with me?”
I blink at him a few times. Exhaustion must be the reason he’s not making any sense. “You admitted you hate when I talk in the same breath as reminding me there are times I don’t talk to you. Why would you have a problem with me finding someone else to annoy?”
“I wouldn’t.”
“Okay, then.” I get back into a comfortable position on my side, hoping this weird conversation is at an end.
“Fuck it,” he grumbles before lifting my feet, then maneuvering his body between mine and the back of the couch. He knocks the pillow out from under my head as he wedges his arms around me. “I do have a problem with you finding someone else. I’m your person to annoy. When some dickhead frat boy treats you like a fuck toy, you come to me for comfort. I’m not about to lose our thing because of some stupid Fight Club shit none of us should be involved in.”
The room spins around me. Jason has been talking more to me in the past two months than he has in three years, but it’s never been like this. His admissions stun me. He’s not professing some secretly harbored love like Rosie thinks, but there’s no mistaking he, at the very least, appreciates our friendship.
If he wants to be the person I annoy, then I’m not about to fail him. “Are you…hugging me? I thought you didn’t do that.”
“I’m spooning you. There’s a difference.”
His gruff voice competes with the knowledge he is, in fact, acting as the big spoon to my little one. My body shakes with silent laughter.
“Jason?”
“Oh, now you want to talk?” he huffs.
“No. I want to annoy you some more.” I catch my breath long enough to appreciate the warmth he provides. His bicep beneath my head makes a surprisingly comfortable pillow. I could get used to this new side of our friendship. “Rosie has been scamming you. No one was with her in the shower tonight, and most of her hookups have actually been there to try and get a piece of you.”
After several moments of silence, I fear I may have crossed the line from annoying to really pissing him off.
He heaves a deep breath, his chest pushing against my back. “I know.”
“You knew?” As doubtful as I was about him not seeing through Rosie’s flimsy stories, this still wasn’t the answer I expected. “If you’ve known all along, then why are you here?”
“Your apartment is nicer than mine. All the furniture I built is here.”
“Jason.” He’s not getting off the hook so easily. “That’s not a real answer.”
“I’m sorry. The time for talking has expired.” He affects his best infomercial host tone. “Please stay tuned for sleep.”
“Which is it? You want to talk, or you want me to shut up?” He’s really such an insufferable asshole.
Jason chuckles like he’s reading my mind. “Am I making you fall in love with me yet?”
I kick him in response. Actions speak louder than words.
He simply laughs again, then pulls me tighter against his rock-hard chest. “In one of your ridiculous daydreams, I could get used to this,” he mumbles.
My previous annoyance melts away, replaced with a sharp stab of grief on his behalf. As if it isn’t bad enough life dealt him an unfair hand to begin with, someone had to go and ruin this man who, once upon a time, was perfectly capable of love. And for what? Pride? Out of a sense of embarrassment because she fell victim to his odd charms?
Rosie’s been wheedling me to run a covert operation of our own design the past few days. With Jason’s steady breathing at my back and his arms wrapped around me, he’s so close to overcoming. My personal desire for revenge outweighs any common sense telling me this is a bad idea. If I’m going to channel my inner Kieran, I might as well go all the way.
I grab my phone from the coffee table and punch out a quick text to Rosie.
Emma: I’m in. Let’s do this.
Rosie: You totally did the nasty and it convinced you, didn’t it? I knew you’d both come around.
Emma: No, you idiot. He can never find out about this. I’m not kidding.
Rosie: Duh. I’m the mistress of secrets.
If ever there was a fair warning of what I’m getting myself into, that should be it. One glance over my shoulder at the slight smile on Jason’s relaxed face matters more than knowing I’m making a deal with the devil.
Some things are worth fighting for.
Lie: Nothing is the truth nor the lie. Everything depends on the color.
The recipe for destroying someone’s reputation is surprisingly simple. Start with a grain of truth. Sprinkle in some twisted context. Finish off with a garnish of reasonable doubt. Deliver the plate with a sympathetic flair.
Those with eager appetites will lap up whatever offering is on the menu. Only the most discerning palates question the chef’s methods. They can be appeased easily enough. Simply throw in an old favorite. For free.
Everyone has different tastes. Even in gossip.
My ethics professor freshman year subscribed to the adage that great minds discuss ideas; average minds, events; small minds, people. I’ve found this to be true, and it’s become another tool in my revenge arsenal.
“I can’t believe it.” Lisa sits down with a huff, nearly spilling her cocktail on her elegant white shift dress. “Hayleigh wouldn’t do that. She’s above all the drama and always keeps her nose clean. That’s one of the reasons everyone on campus respects her so much.”
“I don’t know.” Jacquelyn raises her eyebrows, then looks around quickly like we’re not in the middle of a Panhell event where anyone could overhear us. Still, it seems she’ll be doing the convincing tonight, so that’s one less thing on my plate. “Respect and fear are often confused. I know most of the other sorority presidents would never dream of crossing Hayleigh. Doesn’t it seem odd to you no one ever questions her methods or her agenda?”
Lisa sniffs. “That’s because there’s nothing to question. I still don’t believe it.”
Her defense only riles Jacquelyn further. She swings her long blond locks over her shoulder, raising her chin in defiance. “Not a single person on campus is without reproach. Some just hide it better. I think Hayleigh fits that bill to a T. No one can appear that perfect all the time without some very large skeletons hiding in their closet.”
Oh, if only she knew how true that statement is.
“What are we discussing so intently this evening, ladies?” Elizabeth, the president of Tau Xi Sigma, sidles up, looking entirely too excited at the chance to be included in our little pow wow.
This evening is going far better than anticipated. I’ve barely had to lift a finger.
But, I do lift my glass to my lips to hide the smile threatening to erupt. I can’t appear too eager. Hayleigh is my sorority president, after all. That means I have insider knowledge, yes, but an air of loyalty is also expected.
Jacquelyn turns to Elizabeth, latching onto her shoulder like the physical contact will be a sure way to win an ally. “Don’t you think anyone who seems too perfect probably isn’t behind closed doors?”
Elizabeth furrows her brow, clearly thinking before responding. “I suppose.”
“Is it too much to believe some people really
are who they appear to be? When did we become so jaded that we started searching for cracks in an impenetrable foundation?” Lisa argues.
Elizabeth shakes off Jacquelyn’s hold. “Probably around the time those reveals started showing up on our phones. Spit it out already. Who are we talking about?”
“Hayleigh,” the other girls answer in unison.
“Hayleigh, hmm?” Elizabeth casts a barely controlled excited glance my way before pausing to take a sip of her Cosmo. “This must be a difficult position for you, Emma. There’s no denying your president is the talk of campus, lately. Being caught in the crossfire seems like no fun.”
I recognize this test of loyalty for what it is. However, her desire for insider information might trump all else. Best toe these waters carefully. “It’s unfortunate, to be sure. She’s obviously my sister, first and foremost, but if she’s guilty of what people are saying…” I shrug, trying to appear calm. “Well, let’s just say, I wouldn’t want to be in her shoes if Karma is coming to collect her dues.”
Elizabeth tips her head to the side, studying me carefully. “Rumors are one thing. Are you saying you’ve seen evidence of her supposed crimes for yourself?”
“No,” I emphasize. Because it’s true. I’ve only ever seen the fallout. Like Rosie’s tears or Jason’s drunken confessions. And the secrets he’s never openly told me about her. “She’s never spoken poorly of anyone directly to me.”
“Honestly, though. An actual black book? That’s so cliché,” Tara chimes in as she approaches us, already hungry for the proverbial bloodshed. “Why would anyone as smart as Hayleigh keep that kind of physical evidence? She could have easily used an encrypted journaling site with a passcode randomizer to keep it extra secure.”
Everyone stares at her. I wonder if she’s friends with Josh. If Rosie’s into matchmaking, they seem like a perfect pair.
“What?” She shrugs. “I’m just saying, that’s what I would do.”
“It’s supposedly not an actual piece of evidence like a notebook,” Lisa clarifies. “It’s a blacklist of anyone who’s ever crossed her.”
“Do you think she’s behind the reveals? You have to admit, they’ve been very specific and covered a wide range of students on campus. I don’t know anyone who would remember so much information about people’s personal lives without keeping actual notes over the years.” Jacquelyn stares at me over the rim of her martini glass.
It takes every ounce of willpower not to cower under her scrutiny. Luckily, Rosie prepped me for hours on end for this exact scenario. Instead of sipping my own drink to busy my hands, I meet her gaze evenly. “It’s possible, I suppose. Like I said, I’ve never seen any evidence of Hayleigh’s supposed misconduct for myself. If a blacklist exists, I’m not aware of it. I do agree the reveals must be coming from someone with more than average knowledge of the student body of Wellbridge, but that could be anyone.”
I breathe a silent sigh of relief as Lisa inadvertently pushes me out of the hot seat. “I still say these rumors are the work of jealousy. Some poor bitch on campus wishes her life was half as good as Hayleigh’s, so she’s trying to climb the rungs of the social ladder on someone else’s back.”
She couldn’t be more wrong if she tried, but that’s not the point. There’s no way anyone would believe all the heinous things Hayleigh’s capable of. If people can’t see themselves reacting in a similar fashion, then they have a harder time accepting anyone else could behave differently. According to Rosie’s psych research, it’s much easier to sway people into questioning potential behavior rather than outright exposing a respected member of a group for acting outside of social norms.
This, of course, becomes problematic when half the people at this event probably wish they’d thought up keeping a blacklist of their own. The only angle Rosie and I can work is keeping everyone wondering if they’re on said list. Distrust breeds rapidly and easily once the seed is planted.
I would know.
The hypocrisy of working with people who have lied to me in the past shines brighter than a spotlight on every move I make on this campus. I keep waiting for Rosie, Kieran, or even Jason to sell me out at some point if it suddenly serves their purposes.
Jacquelyn snorts into her glass, jarring me from my inner musings. “I’d hate to be an SST sister right about now. Your whole house must be in a panic, wondering if they’re on her hit list. It can’t be easy to follow all her rules and expectations every day of your lives.”
“It’s not,” I admit. “But, I like to think her high standards are molding us into better women. We have to work hard to keep up, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing.”
Another trick from Rosie. Tell the truth as much as possible. Lies are difficult to get tangled in for a novice who can’t keep their stories straight.
“She must be in a pretty pickle about your new man.” Elizabeth bumps into my shoulder, narrowly missing my silk blouse with her drink. “I’ve seen you and Jason Gould holding hands around campus.”
The heat that spreads across my cheeks is less embarrassment and more my body preparing to defend Jason. By the looks in their eyes, they’re equal parts jealous, disgusted, and curious. “Actually, Hayleigh suggested it. She thinks it makes Sigma house look better for the most wanted man on campus to be dating a sister.”
A devious smile spreads across Lisa’s lips. “So, you’re tapping that as a favor to Hayleigh? If he doesn’t tie you up and spank you like I first suspected he might be into, then you must be on her list. I’m not sure if being forced to date him is a punishment or a reward.”
Another pro-tip from Rosie—when all else fails, play dumb. People will usually incriminate themselves if you give them enough rope to hang themselves with. “Why would dating Jason be a punishment? You said it yourself. He’s hot.”
“Under his clothes,” she clarifies as if I’m stupid. “I would lick his abs, no questions asked. As long as the lights are off, and I don’t have to look at his face.”
“How do you kiss him?” The tone of Jacquelyn’s voice combined with the way her eyes study me indicates she’s genuinely curious rather than disgusted.
“What makes you think I kiss him?”
She rolls her eyes. “You two aren’t exactly discreet around campus. You’re disgustingly sweet together, considering he looks like a hit man for the mafia. Is he one of those terrifying on the outside but warm and gooey on the inside types?”
Her comparison to my favorite pastry I haven’t indulged in months shouldn’t rile me, but it does. Or maybe it’s the fact I can’t answer her question truthfully. “Something like that.”
“Something like that?” Elizabeth laughs. “He probably goes down on you for hours at a time. Guys like him are always trying to prove themselves.”
Oh, great. Another conversation about marrying types. I’m not prepared for all the assumptions people make about my fake relationship. I almost want to dispel their beliefs Jason is unlike any other guy out there. I can’t explain he’s actually moody, demanding, and mentally draining. That would defeat the whole purpose of showing Hayleigh everything she threw away.
And as strange as it may seem, I want to keep those parts of him to myself. He doesn’t give me much, but he gives everyone else less. Everyone except Rosie, that is.
“So?” Lisa’s bright eyes shine at me. “Don’t keep us in suspense. Is he an animal in the bedroom as much as he is in a fighting ring? I want details.”
Another sip of my drink does nothing to quell the raging inferno tearing through my body. “A lady never tells.”
Jacquelyn almost chokes on her vodka tonic from laughing so hard. “Is that another one of Hayleigh’s rules?”
“No. It’s one of mine.”
It’s as if my words are the equivalent of waving a red flag in front of an angry bull. For the remainder of the evening, I smile my way through taunt after taunt about bondage, punishments, oral bliss, my personal bodyguard, and speculation about whether he’ll put a r
ing on it. No, not the engagement kind. The topic of Hayleigh isn’t as interesting as someone else’s sex life, apparently.
By the time we stumble out of the Commons into the night air, I’m not sure if I’m violently angry or horny.
Jason appears out of the shadows, the seemingly doting boyfriend who’s been waiting for my Panhell meeting to be done, so he can escort me home safely. Everything has been planned accordingly to maximize the illusion of the perfect couple.
Like marionettes dancing for the invisible puppeteer, the girls giggle at his looming form across the street. Lisa pretends to fan herself while Jacquelyn shoots me a naughty grin.
Tara shakes her head even as a smile plays on her lips. “I can’t understand it for myself, but if he treats you well, then get you some, lady E.”
After laughing off their antics to the best of my ability, I join Jason. They’re watching us. My shoulders strain under the weight of knowing he’ll never make the first move. I stretch onto my tiptoes to plant a kiss on his chin since he doesn’t bend down to meet me halfway. Even though every muscle in his body feels like a taut rope, ready to snap, he places his arm around my shoulders to guide me toward our apartment building.
With every shared step we take, I’m acutely aware of the heat radiating from his body, the motion of his muscles flexing at my side. No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop vivid images of all the ladies’ insinuations from flooding my mind. I squeeze my eyes shut in an effort to blot them out, but that only makes me trip.
Jason catches me with a sure hand before I can face plant on the sidewalk. “Are you drunk?”
“Sadly, no,” I huff. Although, I’m not sure if that would make my current predicament better or worse.
The moment we step off campus, and there are no longer eyes trained on the back of my head, I shrug out of Jason’s hold. To give myself extra security, I speed up, walking a few paces ahead of him.
Unfortunately, he follows me into my apartment, ruining my plans for some much-needed space. “What did I do wrong this time? I know it’s embarrassing to be seen with me, but isn’t pretending we’re together the whole point? If you’d rather I lay off around your fancy sorority friends, then you need to let me know.”
