The tallest one, dark-skinned with his hair shaved close, caught the ball and looked at me. “Hey, girl. You lost?”
My cheeks burned and I shook my head, quickening my steps to pass them and find the safety of the shadows again. Guess I didn’t look that much like a college student after all.
I turned left on Park Street at the academic buildings. Almost two blocks down, when I reached the dark shadows outside the arts building, I saw Eve teetering on her platforms on the sidewalk at the corner of Sixth and Park. Her pale skin almost glowed and her hair bounced on her back as if she hadn’t used any product at all in it, as if it was naturally bouncy, which I knew for a fact it was not. My hair, like my skin, was an endless source of frustration. No bounce, too thin and too straight, not lush like Holly’s or glossy like Eve’s. It was the products they used, I knew, but I could never imagine asking my grandparents for any fancy hair stuff. As it was, it was pretty much a miracle I’d talked them into switching from 2-in-1 Head & Shoulders to two different bottles of Suave.
I nearly called out to Eve, worried she’d finished the last syringe off herself and was wasted and lost, but then I realized someone was in the shadows she was stumbling toward. It made me feel a little pervy and weird, but I ducked into the bushes on the west side of the arts building and sneaked closer until I was just around the corner from where they were standing. I slid to my butt, back pressed against the outer wall, and took three breaths to calm my rabbit-fast heartbeat.
“You’ve got to be cold, Eve.” Cam’s voice. Or Aiden’s.
I peeked around the corner. Gray hoodie. Aiden. Good news for Eve. I ducked back to my hiding place.
“It’s not so bad. Jack Daniel’s has helped warm me up.”
“Do you have any more?”
Weird. Aiden wasn’t a drinker. Though maybe he was tonight; maybe he needed liquid courage too. What kind of platinum favor would he ask for? Maybe he would ask Eve for unlimited desserts, though that seemed highly unlikely. Maybe he would ask her to leave him alone, though that level of cruelty wasn’t his style either.
“Maybe,” Eve teased. “I might be able to give you a syringe if you give me your letter.”
I almost snorted. As if it could be that easy. Could it? Maybe it had been that easy when she’d offered him Rice Krispies Treats. Aiden laughed, which was weird and not something I’d heard very often.
“Nice try, sweetheart. How about I give you something you want and you give me your letter?”
Sweetheart. God. Eve had to be dying inside. Aiden calling her sweetheart would probably go in their family Christmas letter. I could already imagine the debrief between her and Holly. God, I missed our debriefings, when she would tell me every single thing Aiden had said to her and we would try to decipher all that it meant.
“Something I want . . . ,” she echoed, and sort of hummed. Then things got quiet. I peeked around the corner again, and Eve and Aiden were pressed tight against the wall of the building, making out. My lungs froze. They were actually kissing. After all this time of her pining away for him, they were kissing like it was nothing. No buildup or anticipation or acknowledgment of Eve’s relentless campaign of flirting. Jesus, this game made things go from zero to sixty fast. So much for Eve offering up baked goods.
Goose bumps pebbled along my skin. Apparently, everyone was taking the game more seriously. The platinum favor had made Aiden bold. And Eve was right there with him, motivated by Jack Daniel’s or her long crush or her assertion that sex wasn’t a big deal or the promise of Aiden having to say yes to something she wanted from him.
I for sure felt pervy and gross now and stood to sneak away, figuring out if I could slink around the building toward Goodnow Hall. But then I heard Eve say, “Aiden, slow down.” Her voice sounded small and scared.
Cold dread prickled down my arms and up my neck. I peeked around the corner a third time. Aiden’s hand was up Eve’s skirt. Oh God. Oh God. I slammed my eyes shut. What the very hell?
“Aiden,” she whisper-cried. “Stop.”
It was everything I feared but had convinced myself wouldn’t happen, because we were friends, because this was Iowa, because it hadn’t happened the first time. At least not with anyone but Cam and Holly, who were like that anyway. But this? No. I didn’t want it to be like this. And for all her bravado, I knew Eve didn’t want it to be like this. God. My legs were rubbery sticks and I wasn’t sure if I could take more than two steps, but I had to bust this apart. I’d be sealing my fate as a social pariah for the rest of high school, but it didn’t matter. Eve’s voice definitely sounded not okay, and she’d said stop. This was not okay. I opened my eyes again, ready to move, but Aiden had dropped his hand.
“Don’t pretend you don’t want this, Eve. That you haven’t wanted it every time you’ve seen me and Holly together. I can give you a hell of a lot more than my brother can.”
The air whooshed out of me. Eve stumbled back. “Cam? Cam! I thought . . .”
Cam grinned. “I’m surprised you’d let a hoodie fool you, considering your devotion to my brother.”
“But I . . . But he . . . You . . .”
“It’s okay, sweetheart. We can keep this between us. Aiden would never go for my sloppy seconds, but he doesn’t have to know.”
Eve released a stuttering breath. “Okay. Yeah. Thank you. I’m kind of drunk. I wouldn’t . . .”
“Yeah. I get it. You’d never slum with someone like me.”
“It’s not that. It’s just . . . Holly. . . . And Aiden is . . . I mean, I’ve always wanted—”
“I said I get it. Anyway, what’s your letter?”
Eve jerked back. “What?”
“Your letter. Come on, sweetheart. How do you think this works? I’ll keep this from Aiden if you give me your letter.”
The sweetheart sounded horrible now. Rehearsed. Too polished. Like he’d watched old Zac Efron movies and decided that’s how you talk to girls. Cam was gross. Disgusting and gross. Him and his dumb safety condoms. No wonder. I wanted to punch him even harder now.
I stepped forward to say something. To put a stop to it, but before I could, Eve whispered, “E.”
Then she pulled her platform sandals off and hugged them to her chest before dashing away toward Park Street. Cam took two steps back, away from the bushes and out of the shadows, far enough to see me. He looked as if he’d known I was there all along, which upped the whole ick factor even more. “Your turn, little girl?”
Little girl.
I bolted, ran past the academic buildings through the center of campus, headed for the science building. My tiny purse banged against my hip and I shoved it back. The air was cool on my face, hair whipping my cheeks as I ran as hard as I could. My eyes started to water from the cold, or maybe from how completely overwhelmed I was. I needed to find Eve and make sure she was all right, but more, I needed to get out of there. I wanted to throw up. I wanted to take an endless hot shower that Pops would complain about. I kept picturing Cam’s hand shoved up Eve’s skirt and how she’d said slow down and stop.
Ragged breaths escaped my lungs. Gestapo was a dumb game. I should’ve figured bigger and better meant more sleazy and horrible. What was I thinking agreeing to this after I heard what was at stake? After I saw Cam pass out condoms like they were toothpicks following a meal at the Cracker Barrel? I needed out.
I kept going past the science building and crossed the tracks until I got closer to the South Campus dorms. Then I slumped down on a bench. I pulled out my phone to text everyone and tell them I was quitting, to call Eve and see if she was okay, but before I could do either, I felt a hand on my shoulder.
“Chloe?”
I looked up. Mateo. Mateo with a soft, concerned face and eyes that made me want to crawl inside of them and never leave. Mateo looking at me like I’d wanted him to look at me all year—like we were real friends and he actually cared. The air whooshed out of my lungs.
“What’s happened? Are you okay?”
I shook my head and Mateo sat beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder as I took deep breaths and tried to sort out all the things I was feeling. He was warm, so warm. And he felt so solid, like everything before this was a nightmare and he was the only real thing. I had no idea why he was being so nice; he’d never acted this open with me before. But I was so grateful for the anchor of him that I tucked myself deeper beneath his arm.
“I don’t want to play this game,” I choked out. “I . . . I can’t do it.”
“Do what?”
But I couldn’t say it out loud. I couldn’t explain what I was afraid of. It would be juvenile and make me look dumber than I was certain I already did.
“Easy, Chloe. Calm down. Tell me what happened.”
A few college students came out of the first dorm and headed our way. I looked at my feet, not wanting a bunch of older girls to see the shape I was in and say something about it. I leaned in closer to Mateo and his arm tightened the smallest bit around me. I picked at the cuticle on my thumb until it bled as I waited for the girls to pass.
“It’s the game?” he said. “Did something happen with the game?”
“Have you ever had sex?” I blurted, and then I wished for a giant hole to swallow me up. I jerked away from Mateo and stood. “Forget it, I’m sorry. That was a stupid question.”
Mateo huffed out a soft laugh. “You’re giving me whiplash here, Chloe.”
I stood and started to pace. Back and forth three times. “I should be okay with sex. I’ve had so much sex education thrust at me. Ugh, thrust. God. My mom took it upon herself to explain everything about sex. In vivid detail. And then she got pregnant and lost the baby really late in the pregnancy. And it was horrible. Eve and I said we were going to wait until we were sure. We swore. But then she said she almost did it over spring break. God, I can’t believe I’m telling you all of this. I’m babbling so bad.”
“Yeah, you are. It’s okay. But I’m a little lost, to be honest. Did you give up your letter? Is that what this is about?”
“No. I just . . .” I inhaled slowly, quieting down my brain until I could calmly say, “I’m not the same as other girls. I’m scared all the time. You’d think I wouldn’t be. I should be fearless, like my parents out in the dangerous world making a difference, but everything terrifies me. Everything. Do you know what I mean?”
“Not really.”
God, I sounded like an idiot. I jammed my bleeding-cuticle thumb into my mouth. Mateo watched and didn’t say anything. His lip ring seemed all out of place with his soft face and concerned eyes. I dropped my hand and took a deep breath.
“Sex scares me. A lot.”
His eyes widened. “Did someone ask you to have sex?”
“No.” I slumped back next to him and put my face in my hands. “Nothing like that. I haven’t even talked to anyone tonight but you. This game, though. I feel like no one is worried in the same way I am. But . . .”
“But?”
“Gestapo is about sex, right? I mean, I wasn’t as sure after the practice game, but now? With Cam and his safety condoms? And everything else. It is. The platinum favor means too much to everyone. You have to see that, don’t you? Sex stuff is how people get letters.”
Mateo laughed, but it wasn’t mean, more startled. “Well, that wasn’t the first idea that came to mind.”
“It wasn’t?”
“No, Chloe,” he said, putting his hand on top of mine, his rough fingers making me shiver a little, though I wasn’t sure if it was good shivering or bad shivering. “Those dumb safety condoms were just Cam fronting. I thought you knew that. He’s trying to rile you all.”
“But if it’s not with sex stuff, how else do you win the game?”
“The way to win Gestapo is with secrets.”
8
“What do you mean?” I asked, turning toward Mateo and crossing my legs on the bench so I could face him. My thumb stung, but I kept picking at it with my pointer finger anyway. The only other option was to lean forward and trace the letters of SO? on Mateo’s shirt, and I didn’t think that would be helping me any on the appearing-stable front.
“Your thumb is bleeding,” he said. And I felt dumb all over again. I shook my hand out and propped my elbows on my knees, folding my hands together tightly.
“How do you win with secrets?”
He mirrored my pose. “Think about it. It’s like the real Gestapo. If you’ve got something to hide and someone knows about it, then that makes you vulnerable. They could leverage your secret to get your letter.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “This isn’t a movie. We’re high school students in Grinnell, Iowa. What kind of secrets do we have that someone could ‘leverage’?” I threw air quotes on leverage to make my point. Because, honestly, this level of strategy seemed ridiculous. The sex thing seemed way more likely, and I’d seen it firsthand.
Mateo’s face was steady and serious. “Everyone has secrets. Small ones, like they cheated on a test, and bigger ones. Things they’d hate for anyone to know about them.”
I thought about how closed off and guarded Mateo had been since he moved to Grinnell last summer. How I’d learned not to ask too many questions, because otherwise it would result in an abrupt end to our conversation. I wondered what he could be hiding, what he’d hate for someone to find out about him. Maybe Chloe Donnelly knew and had used it against him in the practice game. But I didn’t want to ask. I didn’t want to ruin the comfort of this moment with him. The relief that sitting across from him gave me. How my breathing had slowed and I’d calmed down so easily just being with him.
“I don’t have secrets,” I said, and I was pretty sure that was true. There was really nothing about me that would spin me into a panic if someone found out about it. If anything, I wished more people would ask about me. I wasn’t certain if that made me the least interesting person in the world or someone who was way too honest about everything.
Mateo smiled. “Now that I believe. But I think you’re alone on that front. Most people would prefer not to have others stomping around in their business.”
“Do you think I’m boring because I don’t have secrets?” I blurted. God.
That drew a full laugh out of Mateo. One I loved to hear because it was so rare from him. He tapped my knee twice with his pointer finger. His nails were perfect, strangely clean, like he’d gone out of his way to scrub them and cut them with nail clippers. “No. I think it’s cute how easy you are to read.”
I pulled back a little, feeling childish again, and let my hair drop in front of my face.
Mateo leaned forward and tucked the hair back behind my ear. It should have made me feel weird, the way he was touching me like we were dating, like he knew me well enough to treat me with that level of familiarity. And I was a little scared, but not because I thought he was pushing, as much as because I felt like I wanted him to push a little more. I was such a mess of contradictions.
“Don’t hide behind your hair,” he said. “I see you anyway and I don’t want you to hide around me.”
It was too much, how he was being with me, as if he understood I’d been waiting for him all year, wanting him to notice me. As if he’d sit there and listen to all my fears and make them go away.
“Mateo . . . ,” I started, but my words felt roadblocked in my throat.
He touched my cheek, the shell of my ear, the bottom of my chin. It was different from how Chloe Donnelly touched me when she barged through my personal space. There was a question in his eyes, and even though I was still scared, I couldn’t help but think: Ask me.
“Chloe. Let’s get you out of here. You don’t have to play anymore. Give me your letter and I’ll tell everyone you had to get home.”
Give. Me. Your. Letter.
My breath left me and I reeled back as if he’d slapped me. “What? You’re . . . you’re just looking to get my letter? That’s why you’ve been doing . . . this?” I flapped my hand between the two of us, then jumped off the benc
h.
“What? No,” Mateo said, following me. “That’s not what I meant.”
I paced in a circle, tucking my thumbs into my fists so I wouldn’t pick at them. “Then why did you say, Give me your letter?”
“I was going to play for you. Be on both teams.”
I stopped pacing and stared at him for a second. “You were?”
“Yes. Look at you. You’re trembling and I found you sitting here scared half to death. I know you don’t want to be here.”
I started pacing again, then stopped. Start, stop, start, stop. Like my silly heart. I flinched when he stepped closer to me. “You were going to play on both teams? How would that work?”
He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I was just trying to help. You said you didn’t want to play. I hate seeing you like this. I don’t want you hurt.”
My head was spinning. Was he really trying to help me?
“I’m sorry, Chloe. I didn’t mean to . . . I don’t have an agenda. I swear.”
But how could he not? I’d just seen Cam try to pull this same thing. Give. Me. Your. Letter. I slammed my eyes shut and thought about all Mateo’s sweetness over the past fifteen minutes, the way he’d tapped my knee and tucked my hair behind my ear and touched my face. It couldn’t have been real. I wasn’t someone anyone cared about. He’d only been interested in my letter. And I’d been dumb enough to fall for it. My shoulders slumped and the knowledge of my own stupidity settled in the bottom of my stomach.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “This is stupid. All of it. My letter is T. Go tell the guys.”
“Chloe,” he said, his voice sounding weird and a little crackly. “That’s not why—”
But I held up a hand to stop him. “It’s got to be almost ten thirty. The game will be over soon.”
He took a step toward me, but I stumbled back. I was right to be scared. I didn’t have the first clue what I was doing when it came to guys, and this game seemed to make it a hundred times worse. This wasn’t rock-paper-scissors and promises of desserts; it was serious, and everyone was apparently playing for keeps. I turned away from Mateo and headed toward the South Campus loggia, ignoring him as he called out after me. I pulled my phone from my small purse, the penguin case looking now as if it were laughing at my stupidity. I swiped my finger to check the time. Ten fifteen. Thank God the game was almost done.
Four-Letter Word Page 9
