Four-Letter Word

by Christa Desir

  Suddenly, everything became totally clear. Tumblers on a lock clicking into place in my mind. Chloe Donnelly knew about Aiden and Josh. She knew about them and used it against Aiden. That was her leverage. That was why he’d lost his letter and that was why he was playing again.

  “Oh,” I said. “No. I wouldn’t. . . .”

  Aiden let out a disgusted huff. He swiveled to face Josh. “I’m not sure why we’re bothering, babe. We should just come clean. It isn’t worth this.”

  Babe. Josh’s face softened, and I suspected they’d had this conversation before. Probably not in front of an audience, though. He touched Aiden’s cheek in almost exactly the same way Mateo had touched mine. In the same way Cam had touched Holly’s. It made me want to help these two, but I didn’t really know how.

  “No, Aid,” Josh said. “You’re not going into the Naval Academy as a marked guy. I don’t care how progressive they claim to be. You know how things are in the military right now, hell, in half the country. Plebes at the Academy go through hazing, and I’m not going to be responsible for you being inundated with fag jokes and constant harassment. We said we were going to wait. It’s a few years. We can suck up anything for a few years.”

  Aiden looked so sad and defeated. “Maybe I should forget about the Naval Academy. I mean—”

  “No.” Josh shook his head. “No no no. You’ve been working your whole life for this. It’s what you want.”

  “You’re what I want,” Aiden said back, softly, maybe thinking I couldn’t hear. Or maybe I was as invisible as I suspected.

  I felt gross for interrupting the intimacy of this conversation, and even worse for making them feel like they needed to have it at all. I cleared my throat and said, “I swear I won’t say anything. And I wouldn’t use it against you in the game. I don’t even want to play Gestapo.”

  Josh gave me a sad smile. “None of us wants to play Gestapo, Chloe. Not anymore. Turns out it’s a little more than just a dumb word game.”

  Chloe. Not Other Chloe. Just Chloe. I returned Josh’s smile, trying to offer a little hope. We all might have been stuck playing the game, but for the first time I didn’t feel so alone. I felt like I had allies.

  12

  When I got to school the next morning, Mateo was sitting on the floor in front of my locker. The light from the windows at the end of the hall created an almost halo around him. I wished I had on a see-through shirt like Chloe Donnelly’s instead of the dumb I SPEAK HOCKEY shirt I’d put on this morning. I didn’t know why I bothered pretending I still had hockey as an interesting thing about me. I hadn’t been on the ice for more than just Open Skate in a few years.

  “Hey,” he said, pulling himself up and leaning on the locker next to mine. He wore faded jeans and a gray long-sleeved Henley-type shirt stretched across his built chest. “I heard you were looking for me.”

  Josh must have told him. Did Mateo know about Josh and Aiden? I couldn’t imagine it. Even with Mateo and Josh being best friends, it didn’t seem like something that would come up at Beau’s while they were sitting around waiting to make a delivery run. Mateo wasn’t the type to judge, but he also wasn’t the type to pry.

  “Yeah,” I answered. “I was.”

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “You didn’t tell the guys my letter at the game,” I said. “I gave it to you and you didn’t tell them.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. The first thing I ever noticed about Mateo was his hands—strong looking with a few cuts and scars and calluses that he probably got from working, deceptively big for him being only a few inches taller than my own five-five.

  “I told you I was trying to help you,” he said. “It’s a game, Chloe. I’m not about to compromise our friendship for a game.”

  Friendship sounded like way too inconsequential a word for how I felt about Mateo, but I still was pleased about what he said. About how he wanted to help me.

  It was more than a game, of course. If Eve manipulating me into playing again didn’t make that obvious, then the look of utter defeat on Aiden’s face when I discovered him and Josh certainly did.

  “Thanks,” I said, then stopped myself from letting my hair fall forward. “It would have been pretty terrible if we’d lost.”

  He leaned forward the littlest bit, or maybe he was just shifting and I thought it was a lean. “Why? Are you worried about losing that platinum favor? You’re so nice, I can’t imagine there’s much you’d say no to, regardless if it was a platinum favor or not.”

  My eyes went saucer wide. “There’s a lot I’d say no to.”

  Mateo laughed and touched my arm for a second, definitely leaning. “Guys aren’t as bad as you think. None of them would ask for something you didn’t want to give.”

  I remembered how Eve had said slow down when Cam had his hand up her skirt, then stop. Would he have asked her for more if she couldn’t say no? I wanted to think the guy who sang “40” with the voice of an angel wouldn’t have, but he also tricked her into thinking he was Aiden. Cam might very well ask for something a girl didn’t want to give.

  Mateo lifted his hand like he was going to touch my face, but then he dropped it and stepped back. “You worry too much, Chloe.”

  But the low-key tone of his voice didn’t match up to his eyes. Chloe Donnelly got his letter too. And maybe it was because he didn’t care that much. Maybe it really was just a game to him and it didn’t cost him anything to give up his letter. But somehow I doubted that was true. I needed to ask Chloe Donnelly to find out for sure.

  * * *

  Melissa McGrill was back in school, sitting by herself at the end of the far right table in the cafeteria. The table by the large garbage can where all the guys tried to slam-dunk their half-eaten lunches. An untouched turkey wrap sat in front of her, and her gaze was locked on the large windows across from her. It was the kind of gray outside that made me feel like going home and binge-watching Netflix under my covers.

  I wanted to sit by Melissa, let her know that even if we weren’t really friends anymore, she wasn’t an outcast. Let her know that I would listen if she wanted to talk. But Eve was behind me in the caf line, and she steered me toward our table on the opposite side of the room.

  She slumped down and said, “I am so screwed in English. I have to read six chapters of Moby-Dick tonight and write an essay on it. And my mom volunteered me to work the Boosters concession stand at the baseball game.”

  “What time’s the game?” I tried to sound casual, but Eve knew me as well as I knew her.

  “JV’s first. Mateo isn’t playing until five thirty. Which I know you know.” She gave me a teasing smile, but then said, “You won’t be home for dinner if you want to see the game.”

  Skipping dinner was a nonoption in Nan and Pops’s house, particularly after I’d just missed one. They made a big deal of family dinner. All of us together at one table. Every night. No exceptions unless they were school related, and that didn’t include extracurricular activities. I’d originally thought I could convince my parents to go to bat for me in creating some flexibility with that, but Mom sided with Nan and Pops. Girls get eating disorders because they don’t learn good habits like having family dinners. It was ridiculous logic, plenty of anorexics had faked their way through family dinners just fine, but Mom was unbending.

  Holly slid into the spot at our table next to Eve, a salad and cheese fries on her plate. Holly was the strangest eater—subsisting on only Swedish Fish for the week before her dance performances, but then eating platefuls of mac and cheese right after it was finished. It seemed to me that eating healthier overall would be in her best interest as an “athlete,” but I was sure she didn’t want to hear my opinion on the matter.

  “Cam is bailing on having dinner with my mom and sister tonight. Again,” she said, instead of hello. “This is the third time he’s backed out at the last minute. I mean, I’ve met his parents tons of times, since they’re almost always at his house working, but he�
�s never once met anyone in my family.”

  Eve threw me a remember your promise look, as if she hadn’t reminded me every chance we were alone together, then turned to Holly. “That sucks, Holls. Did he say why he couldn’t make it?”

  Holly curled in on herself. “No. He said he had a thing and needed to rain check. My mom was going to make lasagna.”

  “He’s really never met them?” I blurted.

  “I just said that, Other Chloe. Keep up.”

  “What about when he dropped you off after church?”

  Holly’s eyes narrowed. “Were you stalking us?”

  “What? No. I saw you after church. I even waved at you. I wasn’t stalking you. That’s my grandparents’ church.” I hated that we couldn’t even have a regular conversation. I didn’t understand what her problem with me was.

  Holly’s gaze shifted right and then back to me. “My family wasn’t around when he dropped me off.”

  The hitched tone of her voice made me think that there was more but she didn’t want to discuss it. It must have been tears Cam was wiping off her face after church. But what in the world would Holly have to be upset about? She had my former best friend and a good-looking boyfriend—albeit kind of a crappy one.

  “Sorry, Holls,” Eve said, leaning toward Holly.

  Holly looked at Eve’s wrist. “Where’s your bracelet?”

  Eve went guilty red and stammered, “Oh. Crap. I must have forgotten to put it on this morning.”

  I studied Eve through my hair, watching her shift uneasily. I felt bad for her. She was probably right about her certainty that Holly would get pissy over Cam’s bait and switch. Holly was obviously territorial. It sucked. Cam being a douche wasn’t Eve’s fault. And it was ridiculous she couldn’t explain everything to Holly. What kind of friend wouldn’t understand the girl had been manipulated?

  “Maybe he can’t come over because of something with his singing,” I said to Holly.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Cam . . . maybe he’s singing. I heard him sing at church. I’m surprised you didn’t come inside to hear him. He sounded really good. He’s got a really good voice.”

  Holly’s eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared. “Cam sang for you?”

  I shrugged. “Well, not just for me. For all of us at church. Why doesn’t he sing with the school choir? I mean, he could really do something with his talent.”

  Holly’s facial expression got even stormier. I wasn’t sure why she was getting so hostile until she said, “Well. I wouldn’t know. He’s never sung for me before.”

  “Really?” Chloe Donnelly said, coming up and sliding on the bench beside me. “I heard him in the orchestra room last week. Other Chloe’s right, his voice is totally pink. Weird that you’ve never heard him.”

  Holly’s neck got splotchy, and for a second I thought she was going to implode. But then Eve reached out and squeezed her arm and said, “He’s probably too shy to sing in front of you because you really mean something, you know? Your opinion actually matters to him.”

  It was a dig at both me and Chloe Donnelly, but it was exactly the right thing to placate Holly. She smiled and said, “Probably. He doesn’t even play guitar around me all that often. He gets adorably self-conscious about it.”

  Cam and adorably self-conscious seemed paradoxical, but I wasn’t about to say anything. Chloe Donnelly tapped my thigh and rolled her eyes when I glanced at her, but otherwise she didn’t say anything either.

  Eve smiled. “I’m sure he’ll make up dinner to you. If not, you can always have him meet your family as a platinum favor when we win against the guys on Friday.”

  Holly grinned back at the same time my stomach plummeted into my Converse high-tops. I couldn’t believe I’d have to play Gestapo again. I opened my mouth, thinking maybe I should suggest an alternative, but snapped it shut again as I recalled Eve’s words: I’ve been carrying you for most of this year, going out of my way to make sure you’re included. Chloe Donnelly eyed me as she pulled out her green lunch sack, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she carefully arranged her apple and yogurt and ham sandwich, then started asking Eve how things were going with her Moby-Dick paper.

  I wanted to bring up the game again, casually ask how she got Mateo’s letter, but now that I knew how she got Aiden’s, I couldn’t. Not in front of Holly and Eve, at least. So I ate my carrot sticks and kept my mouth shut until I could figure out a way to ask her without anyone around.

  * * *

  Spanish was a bust again that day because Chloe Donnelly hijacked me into a conversation about Holly and Cam before I could even say hi to Mateo. Don’t you think it’s weird he’s never sung for her? . . . Do you think he’s one of those guys who “doesn’t do” parents? . . . She told me he’s only ever seen one of her dance performances, that they spend most of their time alone. I felt a little gross even as I speculated with Chloe Donnelly, because I worried Mateo would overhear us and think I was gossiping again. Which was also why I couldn’t ask her about how she got his letter.

  Then Señor Williams put a Spanish film on, which was sadly not an opportunity to talk but rather an opportunity for him to walk around and ensure we were paying attention. My Spanish was solid because my parents had insisted I start lessons with one of the Spanish-major college students when I was five—Chloe, it’s absolute laziness not to master Spanish with forty-one million native speakers in our country—but films were always hard to follow with all the rapid-fire dialogue. Plus, Señor Williams had an affinity for these bizarre, existential Latin American movies that all seemed to be saying there was no reason to carry on. Maybe that was his act of subversiveness in Iowa.

  Mateo bolted right after class with another quick wave, and I headed to my locker with little more than a rushed “I’ll text you later” from Chloe Donnelly. The busy halls and usual buzziness of GHS after school felt different today. It was a little like the first time I’d gotten drunk, doing shots in Eve’s room the night of her dad’s company holiday party while everyone downstairs talked about the state of Iowa’s economy and if they’d be able to get out of town for Christmas.

  The speed of all the kids in school felt like it had been adjusted slower, and the air was heavy. I thought maybe people were looking at me, but there wasn’t really a reason for it. Sometimes it seemed that the whole world was staring at me, and sometimes it seemed like the whole world was staring through me. It was always extreme like that, ever since I left Burkina Faso and returned to GHS, at least. I couldn’t find my way back to normal.

  I walked past the gym on my way out of school and saw Holly practicing some elaborate dance move for the GHS Dance Team. She didn’t look flawless when she was practicing dance. She looked sweaty and out of breath and like she was trying super hard. It was really the only time I liked Holly—when it was obvious that everything didn’t come easy for her. Even her lamenting at lunch about Cam bailing on her mom’s lasagna made me like her more. I was horrible for wanting her to fail, but her words from the bathroom about me suffocating Eve still stung.

  I stepped out of the side entrance and into the parking lot. Eve was leaning into the window of Cam’s car. I’d never asked why Cam was the twin who got the car, whether it was because Aiden cost his parents money with all his activities on the road to the Naval Academy and Cam didn’t do anything so the least they could do was buy him a car. Or whether Aiden was fine with his brother driving all the time and didn’t want his own car. Cam’s car was an extension of him, so maybe it was as simple as that. Maybe his parents could see how much he needed it and how much he obsessed over it. A different way out than Aiden’s, but still a way out.

  Eve pressed her elbows on the rolled-down window and leaned farther in, creating a lesser variation of Holly’s boob shelf at Cam’s eye level. My feet cemented to the ground. I had no idea what they were talking about, but the creepy feeling from the game slithered up my neck all over again. I forced myself to move and ducked back into the glass double doors
at the side entrance. Less than a minute later she’d rounded the hood of his car and was sliding into the passenger seat.

  What in the hell did she think she was doing? I couldn’t imagine her hooking up with Cam behind Holly’s back, but I didn’t know what else it could be. Maybe Eve was the “thing” Cam had to do so he couldn’t make dinner at Holly’s house. Gross. The whole situation made me feel itchy and unsettled.

  After the car pulled away, I stepped back out of the side entrance, trying to compartmentalize what I’d just seen, but it wouldn’t fit with any explanation I came up with. It didn’t fit with the Cam I saw tucking Holly into that same passenger seat after church. And it didn’t fit with how scared Eve had sounded when Cam had his hand up her skirt.

  Halfway across the parking lot, I paused and looked back at the school. There, in the upper window of the science wing, stood Chloe Donnelly. She held up the hand with all the rings on it, and I waved back, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of absolute dread that followed me home.

  13

  That night, after dinner and Two and a Half Men with Nan and Pops, I walked into town to see if Mateo was working at Beau’s following his baseball game. It was after nine thirty when I got there, so the place was pretty cleared out, except for two tables shoved together of college students who were in some kind of debate over the dismissal of a professor and the need to diversify the faculty.

  Josh was sitting on a stool at the bar alone, counting his tips and evidently waiting for the college students to close out their check. He once told me half the reason he worked at Beau’s instead of Pag’s was so he could avoid the hassle of the college crowd. Obviously his plan wasn’t foolproof. The bartender was nowhere in sight.

  “You should work here,” he said when I sat on the stool next to him. “You’re in here enough.”

  I blushed and picked at the cuticle on my thumb. “My parents don’t want me to work during high school. They think it’s too much extra pressure.” I didn’t mention that they encouraged me to volunteer as much as possible and reminded me there was plenty of work to do in Burkina Faso if I wanted to move back there. I was still stung after Holly’s comments about my perfect, progressive parents.