The Game That Breaks Us

by Micalea Smeltzer

  I would have rather she yelled at me than to speak so calmly.

  Anger I can handle. This resigned Grace, I can’t.

  “Sweetheart.” I reach for her hand and she fucking flinches.

  “Go.” She flicks her head toward the door of her room.

  My shoulders sag and I exhale a heavy breath—all the fight leaving me.

  I don’t know what to do or say, because the truth …

  The truth is never enough.

  I’ve been back on campus for two weeks and people still stare and whisper as I pass. Everyone’s talking about the scandal with Bennett and his coach’s underage daughter. I don’t want to believe it’s real, but the evidence seems to be irrefutable. They even arrested Bennett—seeing that image on my computer sent me into hysterics and I couldn’t go to classes for a whole day—but he got out on bail a short time later.

  My parents are urging me to transfer to a school back home, but I know the scandal will only follow me there. People aren’t even that interested in me they just want to hear what I know—which is nothing.

  I feel so lost and I hate that. I always thought I was strong enough to stand on my own, that I didn’t need a man, and I don’t, but I want Bennett. He made me a better person but apparently he’s not a good person. I mean, I knew that he’d had a shady past and slept with a lot of women, but his coach’s underage daughter? I never would’ve thought he’d stoop that low. I guess it goes to show you that you never really know someone.

  I adjust my backpack straps and walk as fast as I can across campus without slipping on some ice.

  “Excuse me? Grace?”

  I ignore the voice. Lots of people call my name, hoping I’ll stop and divulge some secret about Bennett.

  “Grace? Hey?” A hand latches onto my arm and I’m forced to stop.

  “You’re awfully pushy, aren’t you?” I sneer at the strawberry blond in front of me.

  She wrinkles her nose and her freckles dance across it. “I’m Bennett’s sister. I wanted to talk to you.”

  Bennett’s sister?

  My eyes widen in surprise. “Oh.”

  “Is there somewhere we could talk more privately?” She swirls her finger through the air, and sure enough there are several students, and even a professor, loitering as they try to eavesdrop on our conversation.

  “Uh … there’s a coffee shop around the corner.”

  She shakes her head. “Not private enough.”

  “My dorm?” I suggest half-heartedly.

  She brightens at this. “Perfect.”

  I’m not too thrilled about this, but I lead her in the direction of my dorm.

  “How did you find me?”

  She shrugs. “I’m a journalist. It’s what I do.”

  “Find people?”

  She laughs. “Yes, it’s part of the job. I knew if I waited around campus long enough I’d eventually spot you.”

  “So …” I pause. “Bennett didn’t put you up to this?”

  She shakes her head adamantly. “God no. He’d kill me if he knew I was here.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “We’ll discuss inside,” she says as we start up the stairs to the building.

  My heart races as I wonder what she has to say. I want to forgive Bennett so bad, to believe this isn’t real, but the proof … I can’t deny that, and I can’t be with someone that would do something like that.

  I feel like it takes forever to finally reach my room and when we do, she promptly closes the door behind us.

  “First, I feel like I should introduce myself. I’m Sabrina.” She holds out her hand for me to shake.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I tell her, “but horrible circumstances.”

  She winces. “Yes, horrible.” She pulls out my desk chair and takes a seat without my offering. I end up sitting on the end of my bed, facing her.

  “You said you’re a journalist. You’re not here for an interview, are you?” I ask hesitantly.

  Her eyes—the same unique hazel color as Bennett’s—widen in surprise. “Absolutely not.”

  “Then why are you here?” I echo my question from earlier.

  “Because, I think you should know that Bennett didn’t do this.”

  I try not to roll my eyes, but it’s a serious effort. “But the proof—”

  “Is false, just like the steroids.”

  I shake my head. “Yeah, I thought he was telling the truth about the steroids too, but now I think that was just a lie. I think his coach has been innocent in this whole thing and Bennett’s blaming his screw-ups on the poor man.”

  Sabrina shakes her head. “Is that what you really think?”

  “Yes,” I say, but my voice wobbles.

  “Bennett is a lot of things,” Sabrina says solemnly, “and I know he doesn’t have the best track record, but he’s a good guy and he loves you. He’s heartbroken about this, and let me tell you: I’ve never seen my brother torn up over a woman the way he is with you.”

  “He hasn’t come to see me,” I admit softly.

  “Would you have spoken to him if he had?” she counters with a raised brow.

  “Well, no,” I admit.

  “Exactly.” She gives me a small smile. “You can believe what you want, Grace, but trust me when I say he’s doing everything he can to prove his innocence.” She stands and opens the door, but pauses before leaving. She levels a look at me over her shoulder. “I just hope by the time he does it isn’t too late to fix things.”

  I feel like I’m on America’s Most Wanted and everyone in the whole fucking United States is hunting me down. I haven’t left my apartment in six days and the paparazzi are still camped outside my house. The fucking vultures. I’m tempted to throw water balloons on them but I’m pretty sure that would make everyone hate me even more. My social media accounts have been going off non-stop with notifications, most of them from people calling me names. They’re favorite name seems to be pig.

  I’m honestly amazed by how many people will rally together to tear someone apart but so few build each other up.

  People love drama, even if they say they don’t.

  I tap my fingers against the kitchen counter.

  A plan. I need a plan.

  My life has imploded before my eyes and I’m not going to sit idly by while the last remnants of it fly away.

  A key in the door rattles, and a moment later, Sabrina steps into my apartment.

  “Hey,” I greet her with a half-hearted wave.

  She closes and locks the door behind her and holds out a to-go bag from my favorite Chinese restaurant.

  “Eat, you’re losing too much weight,” she scolds.

  “It’s not my fault I can’t leave my apartment to get groceries.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Then use your computer and order them, Bennie.”

  “You can do that?” I ask, setting the bag down on the counter and pulling out the boxes.

  She sets her purse down and pulls out one of the barstools. “Yes, of course. God, you’re such a guy.”

  I grin and open one of the boxes. “Mmm, my favorite. You’re the best, Bina.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” she chimes. “You owe me, yada-yada-yada.”

  I chuckle and dump the serving of chicken on a plate, add noodles, and an egg roll.

  Enlisting my journalist sister to help me is probably the best decision I’ve ever made. If there’s a loose end she’ll sniff it out. My parents want to help in any way they can but there’s nothing for them to do. They want to be here with me in the city too, but I insisted on them staying home. The media would hound them to death here, and after my dad’s stroke he doesn’t need that kind of stress. I don’t worry about Sabrina. She can hold her own against the vultures.

  “Have you found out anything?” I ask, taking a large bite of egg roll.

  “Not yet,” she admits with a defeated sigh. “Give me time.”

  “Time,” I repeat. “I don’t have much left of it.”


  “I know,” she says sadly. “I know.”

  “That’s it. We’re going out,” Elle announces, bouncing up from her bed.

  I frown from mine. “I don’t want to go anywhere.”

  “Nuh-huh.” She shakes her head. “You don’t get to decide. You’ve been moping around for a month solid, and I won’t stand for it any longer. You’ve wallowed enough. We’re going out. Makenna and Celine will come too. I’ll even ask Ryland if he wants to tag along as our unofficial bodyguard.”

  I swallow past the lump in my throat. “I doubt I’ll be much fun.”

  “I don’t care.” She puts her hands on her hips. “All I want is to see you leave this god-forsaken campus and do something.”

  I can’t blame her. All I’ve done since returning from break is go to class and come back to the dorm. I haven’t even wanted coffee—and definitely not cupcakes—because it reminded me too much of Bennett.

  I miss him. I miss him so much. I’ve picked up my phone to call him more times than I care to admit but I always set my phone back down when I think about that girl he might’ve raped. My heart tells me he would never do that, I know him, but the evidence is there and I feel wrong to support him if it’s true.

  Even with all that I still love him. I can’t turn my feelings off like a switch. I wish I could. It would make things so much easier.

  “What do you have in mind?” I place the magazine I was reading on my bed.

  “A club.” She grins wickedly and runs to her closet. “A sexy dress and dancing has to make you feel better.”

  I suppress my groan. I doubt either of those things will make me feel better, but I don’t want to burst Elle’s bubble. She’s been really sweet and there for me through this whole thing. She even confessed that she feels guilty being so happy with Ryland while I’m miserable. I told her that was silly but it still didn’t erase the worry from her eyes.

  Elle rifles through her closet and tosses me a black garment. I hold the dress up and my eyes widen. It’s not the most scandalous thing she could’ve given me but it has several sections cut out with mesh, making it a lot sexier than it otherwise would be. The skirt flares out at the hips and ends above the knee area.

  “Put that on,” she orders. “I’m going to let Makenna and Celine know what we’re up to.”

  I nod, feeling rather guilty at the mention of their names. They’ve tried to come around me in the last month and I’ve blown them off, afraid that they were like everyone else and only wanted to know what really happened—if the allegations are true.

  I set the dress on my bed and go to work on my hair and makeup.

  Elle returns and does the same.

  I straighten my hair and twist it back into a slick ponytail and then do my makeup heavier than normal with lots of blacks and gray. On my lips I even use a daring black lipstick. It’s definitely not my go-to style but I figure I might as well be daring and different.

  Elle groans from her side of the room. “Will you help me? I’m not good at this kind of thing.” She drags a brush through her hair, butchering the strands.

  I run to the other side of the room and stop her. “For starters, don’t do that.” I take the brush from her hand and set it aside. “What did you have in mind?” I ask her, fluffing her hair around her shoulders.

  She shrugs. “Could you curl it like you normally wear yours? I know my hair is naturally curly, but it’s not sleek and pretty like when you curl it.”

  “Yeah, absolutely, I can do that.” It doesn’t take me long to do her hair and then she asks me to do her makeup too. I don’t think she really wants me to do it, but she knows it’ll make me feel better—distract me—to do it.

  Once her hair and makeup is done, we both change into our dresses.

  I whistle at hers. “Ryland is going to lose his mind,” I tell her honestly.

  She wears a long-sleeve, gray, crop-top with zig-zag cut-outs in the chest and a high-waisted pencil skirt in the same material. Only a small amount of her midriff shows, but it’s enticing and sexy. Poor Ryland will have to shove the guys away from her.

  She smiles at me. “You think so?”

  “Yeah, of course. You’re gorgeous.”

  Something I’ve learned about Elle is that she’s not used to being called beautiful. I can’t help but wonder what kind of home she grew up in, and if that’s why she was so nasty to me when we first met. But I never ask her about it. I figure if she wants to talk about it, she will.

  “You look hot too.” She motions to my borrowed dress.

  “Thanks.” I grab a clutch and stuff my phone, ID, and some cash in it. “Let’s get out of here.”

  She grins wickedly. “I thought you’d never say so. Let’s get into some trouble.”

  Ryland gets suckered into being our DD so he drives the four of us to the club in his car—which is a hell of a lot nicer than Celine’s.

  Celine, Makenna, and I end up squished in the backseat, and by the time we make it to the club, we can’t wait to get out.

  Emerald is spelled out across the side of the building in an elegant script font, lit up in the same shade of green as its namesake.

  As soon as the car is parked, the three of us tumble out and then spend a minute righting our dresses.

  Makenna tugs on the top of hers and then nods her head appraisingly at everyone.

  “We look hot as fuck,” she states.

  She looks killer in her dress and I find myself envious of her perky breasts. Mine seem so small in comparison.

  She loops her arm through mine and says, “Let’s go find you a man, Grace. Once you fuck a hot stranger you’ll feel loads better.”

  I snort as we head toward the line. “Are you speaking from experience?”

  “Of course.” She giggles and flips her long hair over one shoulder.

  We get in line—unlike my experience with Bennett—and slowly make our way toward the front.

  The bouncer takes one look at us in our skimpy dresses and lets us in.

  “Ladies, try not to get into too much trouble,” Ryland warns as we make our way through the labyrinth of the club. “There’s only one of me and four of you.”

  Celine cackles. “You worry too much, Ryland. I’m getting a drink, who’s with me?”

  “I am.” I raise my hand like I’m in elementary school. I don’t normally drink, but tonight calls for alcohol and lots of it.

  Celine grabs my raised hand and starts pulling me through the club. Makenna follows and we stride up to the bar.

  Celine leans across the bar top and signals the bartender. As soon as he notices her he makes his way over to us with an eager smile.

  “What can I help you with today ladies?” He flips a lock of shaggy brown hair from his eyes.

  Celine nods her head in my direction. “We’re out celebrating my friend’s new single status—and we want to get drunk. Give us your special.”

  He chuckles and steps back. “You got it.”

  I turn away from the bar and admire the club. It’s nice, surprisingly nice considering the college crowd, and the music is good so that’s always a plus.

  “See any contenders?” Makenna asks, raising her voice to be heard above the noise.

  I shake my head. I’m not opposed to finding a guy to dance with, but I’m not looking for one to take me home.

  She eyes me and says, “Don’t make me choose one for you.”

  Luckily, I’m saved from saying anything thanks to the arrival of our drinks.

  I take it from the bartender and slurp it down. I don’t think it’s the kind of drink you’re meant to chug, but I need to get buzzed. I need to get out of my head and stop thinking so much. I lift my empty glass, signaling another, and slap some bills down on the bar.

  “Damn, girl,” Celina comments, sipping on her drink. “You’re on a roll.”

  The bartender makes my second drink and I drink it just as fast.

  I can feel myself growing more relaxed. “I’m going to dance,” I
announce.

  I don’t wait for either girl to respond before I slip into the crowd.

  Now to find someone to dance with.

  I scour the crowd, looking for a guy to dance with that doesn’t look like a complete creep.

  I startle when I see someone I recognize. He’s dancing with another girl, but the alcohol makes me braver than normal.

  “Mind if I interrupt?” I put on my most flirtatious smile and bat my eyes.

  Tanner’s eyes slide toward me and he nods approvingly. “Not at all.”

  The girl protests feebly as he leaves her and comes to my side.

  I haven’t talked to Tanner much—I was embarrassed by falling on him that first day, and then when Bennett mentioned that Tanner was talking about the incident, talking about me, well, I decided to stay away. But I haven’t been able to ignore the way he looks at me and now, tonight, he’s the exact right person I need. I don’t plan on taking this any further than dancing, but he doesn’t know that, and I want to feel desired. I know Tanner will do that.

  His blond hair is slightly damp with sweat, like he’s been here for a while, and hangs limply in his eyes. He has a sculpted face and a nice smile, but he’s not Bennett. He never has been. Maybe, if I hadn’t met Bennett before Tanner, I might’ve actually liked the guy, but I can’t bring myself to feel anything toward him.

  “I’m surprised to see you here.” He wraps his hands around my waist and turns my back against the front of his body. He moves to the beat of the song and my hips begin to move on their own.

  I lean my head against his shoulder. “I needed to get out.”

  “I’d say I’m sorry about you and Bennett but I’m not,” he whispers in my ear. “The guy’s an asshole.”

  I bristle at that but try to keep the bite from my tone. “No, he’s not.”

  He chuckles. “You obviously don’t know him as well as you thought. The guy is a rapist.”

  I flinch at that. I don’t want to believe it. I want to think that Sabrina was right—that this is just another set up, but frankly I’m confused and don’t know what to believe. Everything feels like a lie.

  I move to the song, trying to drown out Tanner’s words, but they echo through my skull like a pinball.