Played

by Liz Fichera

  I was listening to country music on my iPod with my eyes closed, sipping a 7-Up, when someone knocked on my bedroom door. I ignored it.

  But then the knock turned into a pound.

  Bam-bam!

  I pulled out my right earbud. “What?” I yelled at the door and then reached for my temple. The inside of my head had been drumming all day due to my first (and preferably last) hangover.

  “It’s me. Let me in.”

  I rolled my eyes at the door. “Go away.”

  He knocked again, louder than before. This time he was close to breaking down the door.

  “Go. Away!”

  “Riley, open the door. We need to talk. Don’t be a baby.”

  I dragged myself off my bed. Ryan never dropped by my bedroom to chat. Obviously he needed a favor. “Make this quick,” I said, unlocking my door.

  Ryan stepped around the door as I held tight to the doorknob. His eyes swept over me and then my unmade bed. The clothes I’d worn to Jay’s party hung on the back of my desk chair. Even from across the room, I smelled the cigarette smoke as it mixed with the fresh air from the hallway. “You look like hell,” he said, moving to the window to open the shade.

  Bright light flooded the room, stinging my dry eyes. I looked down at my gray sweatpants and rumpled matching T-shirt. “Gee, thanks.”

  “Seriously, Ri.”

  I chuckled. “Okay, I believe you. I look like crap. Thanks for the fashion update. Please leave now.”

  Ryan plopped on my bed, sending my sketchbook onto the floor and I cringed. I wasn’t expecting a sit-down. “I told you,” he said. “I wanted to talk.”

  “Don’t you have another sister to irritate?”

  “Just close the door,” he said. “Relax, would you? I won’t bite.” Ryan leaned against my pillow and crossed his legs at the ankles. They stretched the length of my queen-sized bed. When I didn’t move away from the door, he pleaded in a softer voice, “Come on, Riley. Please.”

  I shut the door, hard. And then listened a moment for signs of Mom and Dad through the door. I hadn’t heard either one in the house the whole day. Dad often went into the office on Saturdays and Mom had probably been called in to the hospital on one of a zillion emergencies. People always seemed to have more accidents and heart attacks on the weekends. So it was just my brother and me. All alone. Oh, joy.

  I dragged my feet to my desk as if I were wading through chest-high water and plopped into my chair. I drew up my knees and looked at Ryan. “Okay. What?” I said in my best I’m-bored voice.

  Ryan leaned forward. “What is going on with you?” he asked.

  My eyes widened. Well, this was a first—my big brother caring about someone other than himself? “What do you mean?” I treaded carefully.

  His hands spread open. “I mean, you’re not you lately. You’re…someone else.”

  I exhaled a chuckle. “I hate to disappoint you, but I am very much me. I’ve never been more me in my whole life. I’ve just been having a little fun for once. What’s the big deal?”

  He glared with disapproval but I held his gaze.

  When I didn’t blink, he said, “So, let me get this straight. Suddenly you’re hanging out with the Jay Hawkins clan, you smoke and—” he paused, sniffing “—you obviously like to get hammered all of a sudden. This is the new-and-improved you? This is fun?” His tone was incredulous.

  “Don’t be a hypocrite, Ryan. You’ve been doing it for years.”

  He pushed back on the pillow. “I did try it. I’ve tried everything. And it’s totally not worth it. Remember?”

  How could I forget? I was always the one stuck at home listening to Mom and Dad fight about Ryan while he was off at yet another never-ending party. I was the one who’d answered the front door to the police when Ryan had held a party in our backyard and a neighbor had complained about the noise. I was the one who had to watch Mom cry in frustration every time Ryan stumbled home drunk. Let him get a taste of what I had to go through. “That was you,” I said. “This is me.”

  “And I don’t like what I’m seeing.”

  “Ask me if I care.” My chin lifted. “Besides, it’s not for you to decide.”

  Ryan sighed. “Riley…this won’t end well.”

  “Quit your worrying, would you?”

  “Well, stop acting stupid and the people who care about you will leave you alone.”

  “I’m not being stupid. I know exactly what I’m doing.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “No, the hell you don’t.”

  My voice rose. “At least I’m having some fun for a change. At least people are paying attention to me in the first place!”

  Ryan leaned forward on one knee. “Is that what this all about? Attention?”

  “No,” I said. “Yes. I mean, no.” I gripped the sides of my head. “Just leave me alone, will you?”

  Then his eyes narrowed. “And another thing. Why did you tell Fred I was going to the movies last night?”

  “I didn’t.” Oh, no.

  “Yes, you did. She told me this morning when we talked it all out. Why have you been lying to us?”

  I looked away. I couldn’t look at him.

  “Fred and I had planned to hang out last night. When I drove to her house, she was already gone. I thought maybe she’d gone to Jay’s party.”

  “I thought you didn’t like Jay Hawkins. Why would you want to go to his party?”

  “I said I didn’t like my sister with Jay Hawkins. And don’t change the subject.”

  “You’ve known Jay forever. You used to be in Little League together.”

  “That was grade school, Riley. Jay changed in high school. He’s full of himself. I really can’t stand him.”

  I shook my head, frustrated. Then I bolted upright and stood beside the chair, my arms folded tight across my chest. “Get out, Ryan. I’m done talking.” My forehead throbbed harder.

  Ryan leaped off the end of my bed and towered over me, his hands on his hips. “I’m just worried about you, Riley. After last night, now you’ve got a reputation. Is that what you want?”

  I gasped, feeling like I’d been punched in the stomach. “So I kiss Jay Hawkins and I get a reputation? That’s original.”

  “You did more than kiss.”

  “So what?” I felt heat rush up my neck. “And how would you know?”

  “I think it’s pretty much a guarantee that everybody knows about you and Jay.”

  “Well, what’s everybody calling Jay?”

  Ryan’s jaw hardened. “Lucky.”

  “Huh.” I choked out a laugh. “That’s rich.”

  His nostrils flared. “I’m going to talk to him.”

  I jabbed my finger at him. “Stay out of this, Ryan. Stop treating me like a child. It’s none of your business.”

  “Like hell it isn’t.”

  Ryan walked out the door and turned as my temples tap-danced against my skull. His gaze battled mine. Then he looked behind me, like he was seriously considering walking back inside my room for Round Two. “Consider yourself warned,” he said, lowering his voice.

  “Consider yourself a moron.” I slammed the door in his face and began pacing in my room. I had to get out of here or I was going to explode.

  Then I thought of our old Lexus, parked beside the garage. No one ever used it unless one of our other cars was in the shop. Mom hung the extra car keys next to the back door. I wondered if the Lexus had any gas.

  36

  Sam

  I knew something was wrong when Mr. Romero stormed into the cafeteria before homeroom on Monday morning.

  “I need to talk to you, Sam. Privately.” Mr. Romero towered over my table, tapping two fingers against the edge like they were keeping time.

  The hairs rose on the back of my neck. “Okay,” I said, stuffing my math and physics books into my backpack, doing my best to ignore the stares from the students around me. Teachers usually stuck to the te
achers lounge. Rarely did they cross the invisible dividing line into the cafeteria before school, not unless the building was on fire and there was no other way out.

  I followed Mr. Romero as he walked out of the cafeteria and into the hallway. He always walked like he was late for a bus.

  As soon as we reached his office, Mr. Romero closed the door, motioned to one of two brown chairs and then took his place behind a desk that took up most of the room. Behind him hung his framed degree from the University of Arizona and some type of counseling certificate. Three perfect piles of white paper made a line on his desk, along with a coffee cup and a brown sack in the corner that I assumed contained his lunch.

  “If this goes late, I’ll write you a pass,” he said, moving one of the piles so that he could fold his hands in the middle of his desk.

  I nodded as I dumped my backpack on the empty chair beside me.

  “I’ll get right to the point.” His fingers reached up to smooth down his mustache. “What can you tell me about Riley Berenger?”

  I swallowed. Okay, call me stupid, but I hadn’t seen that one coming. “What do you mean?” It sounded lame but it was the first thing I could think of. Was he accusing me of something?

  “Well, she’s been acting differently since the leadership retreat. It’s obvious you two have grown close since the rescue.”

  My eyes widened. It is?

  “I’ve seen you together in the cafeteria and in the parking lot after school.”

  If he noticed my surprise he didn’t say. “I thought maybe she’s confided in you….”

  “I haven’t noticed anything different about her,” I said quickly. Perhaps too quickly. “I don’t really know her.” At least that part was true. Just when I thought I knew Riley Berenger, she did something that totally blew me away. Like tell me she liked when I kissed her.

  Mr. Romero’s eyes narrowed. “Nothing? You’ve noticed nothing?”

  “You mean, like at school?” Wow. That sounded lame even to me, but I was stalling, wondering where this conversation was headed.

  “Well, okay. For starters. Her teachers tell me that she’s been late on assignments and falling asleep in class, even behaving rudely. That’s not like her. Why would she behave that way?”

  “To be honest, Mr. Romero, you’d have to ask her.” My innocent tone rang false but I wasn’t about to tell him that she was meddling in other people’s business. “Or maybe her brother.”

  “I intend to, Mr. Tracy. But you’re an upperclassman and a respected member of this school. I value your insight. I was hoping you might be able to shed some light on the recent changes in her behavior, especially since—” he paused to clear his throat “—the night you spent together on the Mogollon Rim.”

  I swallowed again. “Yes, sir.”

  “There’s a rumor she’s joined a gang. Is that true?”

  I snorted. Pink Girl? “Riley?” No. Way. “I don’t believe that. Not for a second.”

  “But you said you don’t know her.”

  Oh, boy. Open mouth, insert foot. “I don’t. Not really, I mean. But I know her type. She doesn’t seem like the type of girl who’d join a gang. She’s too smart for that.” I hoped I was right. Riley? In a girl gang? With chains and tattoos and drug deals going down in alleys? I had an easier time picturing Jay Hawkins as the next Pope. “Seriously, Mr. Romero, someone’s feeding you false information.”

  Mr. Romero pulled on his mustache. “My sources can be pretty reliable, Sam.”

  It was hard not to laugh. “I…I don’t know what to say. I find it very hard to believe.” Clearly Mr. Romero had watched too many teen movies.

  “I’ve seen it happen, Mr. Tracy. I’ve seen it happen plenty of times to people you would never expect.” He tented his fingers. “Well, this behavior is very sudden and very unlike Miss Berenger, and we are all very concerned. I’d like to stop it before it escalates.”

  “Uh-huh.” At least I wasn’t the only one who wanted Riley back to the way she was—back to not interfering with other people’s lives. “Have you talked to her today?” My tone was hopeful, surprising me.

  “She was in a car accident on Saturday, Mr. Tracy,” he said, his lips pursing. “She won’t be in school today.”

  It was like I’d been sucker punched. “What? Is she all right?”

  “From what I understand, yes. She’ll be okay. It could have been worse.” I could tell that he was keeping something from me but, frankly, I was surprised that he’d told me anything about it at all. A million crazy thoughts ran through my head—was she driving? Was she drunk again? Or worse, was she with that tool Hawkins? I didn’t know she had her license yet.

  “Was she…with anyone?”

  “I really shouldn’t say any more,” Mr. Romero said. “Anyway, anything that you can think of, anything you could share would be most helpful as we try to help Miss Berenger get back on track.”

  “Sure.” My throat tightened. “Absolutely.” There was so much more I should have told Mr. Romero but I couldn’t push the words out of my mouth. “Um. Do you know when she’ll be back in school?”

  “Tomorrow, hopefully. Maybe Wednesday.” He began to tap a pile of papers against his desk with his pencil. Message received: office visit over.

  I reached for my backpack.

  “And, Sam?” Mr. Romero said.

  “Yeah?” I said, standing.

  “If you hear anything, learn anything, will you let me know? I give you my word that anything you tell me will be kept in confidence.”

  I swallowed. “Yeah, definitely.” I swung my backpack over my shoulder. The first bell of the morning rang, and I couldn’t leave Mr. Romero’s office fast enough. I needed to borrow Vernon’s cell phone.

  “Oh, and Sam?”

  I stopped short at the door. “Yeah?”

  Mr. Romero’s expression softened. “Congratulations on getting nominated to the junior prom court.”

  “What?” I gasped. I felt all the blood drain from my face. First, Riley. Now, this? I was officially inside a full-blown nightmare. I had no intention of going to prom. Not now. Not ever.

  “I learned about it in the teachers lounge this morning.” Mr. Romero smiled wide, oblivious to my shock and horror. “The principal will be making the announcement during homeroom. Until then, keep it on the down-low.”

  One moment I was worried sick about Riley Berenger. The next, I wanted to strangle her. That was what this girl did to me.

  I needed life to go back to the way life had been before I slid down that mountain after her. And I needed it now.

  37

  Riley

  I refused to wear the dorky neck collar, even when Mom insisted. I’d barely been injured in what could be described as a harmless fender bender on Saturday, maybe just a little twinge in my lower back, if you could even call that an injury. It was probably a leftover from my fall down the side of Mogollon Rim. But we both knew this was about much more than an ugly neck collar that rubbed my skin raw.

  “I can’t believe that you’re making me stay home,” I said to Mom as she flitted around my bedroom, lowering the window shade and picking up my discarded clothes as if I were a full-blown invalid. Then she tucked my laptop under her arm.

  Wait. What. The?

  At this very moment, I would be happier at school. In fact, in the last million moments, I would have been happier anywhere but at home.

  “You’re job today is to stay calm and quiet, Riley. Do you think you can handle that?” Mom’s voice was measured and even, that perfect pitch. Not too loud or too soft. Suddenly I was one of her hospital patients. That tone grated on every last one of my nerves. She frowned at the neck collar lying beside me. “And you’ve got to wear that, too. It’s not an accessory.”

  “If you say so.” I didn’t bother to hide my attitude as my fingers plucked the Velcro on the neck collar. It was as heavy as a bridle. Looked like one, too.

  “I don’t appreciate your tone.”

&nb
sp; “I didn’t realize I had one.” I shot her the stink-eye.

  Mom sighed and then dropped to the end of my bed. She turned to face me, her fingers threading in front of her, as I tried to push through my headboard to the wall and then preferably to the outside of the house. “Riley. Talk to me.” She spread her hands. “What is going on with you? I don’t understand. Is this about a boy?”

  I exhaled, rolling my eyes.

  “Please don’t be that girl, Riley. The one that does foolish things because she thinks she’s in love with a boy. I beg you.”

  My voice shook. “This has nothing to do with a boy. Jeez, Mom. And even if it did, why can’t I be as normal as everyone else?”

  “This isn’t just about the accident. You’ve been acting so different lately.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “I raised you to be smarter than that.” Then there was the tiniest of cracks in her voice. “And I just don’t want you to make the same…choices…I did.”

  Oh, no. Here we go. This was when Mom usually reminded me that she’d gotten pregnant at sixteen. Apparently Ryan and I had a half sister somewhere out there, one she’d given up for adoption. She didn’t like to talk about it with Ryan and me, because it hurt too much. I knew that I should feel more compassion for Mom, even guilty for feeling so resentful, but Mom had been doing everything in her power to make sure I was perfect enough for the both of us in everything that I did for as long as I could remember. It was exhausting. “All I did was borrow the car, and you’re totally freaking out.”

  “You didn’t ask! That’s not borrowing, Riley. That’s stealing. And you know you’re not allowed to drive a car without a licensed driver. What were you thinking?”

  “You never got mad when Ryan did it, when he only had his permit.”

  “I expected that behavior from Ryan. But from you? Never in a thousand lifetimes.” Her voice grew louder. Her Doctor Voice was succumbing to Hysterical Mom voice. “You’re lucky you weren’t killed—or didn’t kill someone.”

  I sighed, my nostrils flaring. This was the first time Mom had really screamed at me. Was it wrong that I wasn’t too upset about it? Was it wrong that I even kind of liked it? “But the guy in front of me didn’t even have any damage.” Okay, I’ll admit to it. Shame on me for following too closely and not braking in time at an intersection, but I’d been anxious to get out of the house. I was only going out for a chocolate mocha. I couldn’t stay inside with Ryan lurking about, ready to jump all over me for not being his moldable younger sister who did everything he asked.