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Bad Will Hunting

Page 8

by Heather Wardell

“What? She’s tried all the easy stuff and didn’t find him. She doesn’t know where he works, or where he lives in Portland, or even whether he’s on Facebook or Twitter. She could check every last profile and not find him. She doesn’t even know if his name is really Will Smith! And if she does find him it won’t do any good anyhow. So I say give up and drink more wine.”

  “I do know it’s his name. I saw his credit card. And it’ll do good because I’ll kill him. That’ll help me.”

  “It might,” she says. “And I might be a size two tomorrow. But I doubt it. On both things.”

  Me too. It’ll be almost impossible to find him. But I have to go after it. I was feeling so lost and frustrated after the show, and hunting Will gives me a focus and a direction and a way to use my rage. I’m going to find him. Nothing else matters.

  Chapter Eleven

  I take the elevator up to Kent’s condo, which is now Kent and MC’s condo, wondering what possessed me to come to this party. Yes, MC seemed sincere when she texted me Wednesday as I drove home from Shannon’s place, but why should I care about that? I don’t.

  The only thing I care about is finding Will and making him pay, so I shouldn’t be giving up a full evening of searching. Wasting my time with McKent and Grily and Summaar and whoever else is invited is ridiculous.

  And yet I’m here and I still don’t know why. I didn’t agree to attend until after my phone call with Dory last night, which was exactly as boring and useless as I’d expected and which I ended by hanging up mid-sentence at exactly the one-hour mark, and I can only assume she played some psychology mind game on me that made me say yes.

  If I’d known I’d be forced to work overtime at the factory today, though, I would definitely have said no. I’m nearly half an hour late, and as I took a frantic shower after work I told myself I should just not show up. Not like anyone would miss me.

  But though I kept telling myself that, I also kept getting ready, and then I drove over here, and the only reason I can think of is that these people went through the same hell on the island that I did. They didn’t have the same horror right before, of course, but they suffered the fierce heat and cold nights and lack of food just as I did. I assume that’s why I decided to come, to be surrounded by people who understand.

  I can’t think of any other reason.

  Unless it’s that I don’t want to stay home and keep doing my useless searches for Will. Despite my careful watching of the “Stalk This Way” show and all of its previous episodes I still have no idea how to separate search results for Will-Smith-the-lying-passenger from Will-Smith-the-famous-actor, and until I do I can’t find him. Which is all I want to do.

  When I’ve reached Kent’s floor and am making my way through the winding hallway toward the condo, it occurs to me that the place probably looks different now. Kent had moved in only a week before we got together, and we spent surprisingly fun hours decorating all the rooms and once having sex while half-stunned by paint fumes. The other exes since me will probably have changed things; will everything we did together be gone?

  I knock at the condo door and in seconds hear feet padding toward me. MC flings open the door and grins at me. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” I mumble, taken aback by what seems like genuine excitement. Why does she care? “Work wouldn’t let me leave.”

  “You’re here now,” she says, stepping aside so I can come in. “That’s all that matters.”

  She sounds so sincere but I don’t get it. And I don’t trust it.

  “Okay, everyone,” MC says, turning and heading into the living room, now painted a vibrant deep green instead of the smoky gray Kent and I had used. “Say hi to Ashley and then it’s time for a speech or two.”

  Everyone choruses a hello, but I can’t make myself follow her. I feel like an enormous disembodied hand is hovering just above me, and the second I give in and trust that they actually do want me here I’ll get slapped stupid.

  MC turns back. “Leave your shoes on if you want. No worries.”

  “I... okay, thanks, I wasn’t sure,” I say, glad for the cover-up opportunity and wondering if she knows I was too scared to come in.

  As I move slowly forward, Summer says, “Speeches? From me?”

  “I’d listen to you all day, gorgeous,” Aaron says, “but I think she meant her.”

  “Me and Kent, actually,” MC said, “so hush up.”

  Aaron makes a show of zipping his lip, which from what I know of him will last about ten seconds.

  I look around in vain for a place to sit, anger rising. I knew it. I knew they were screwing with me.

  “Here,” I hear a voice say, and turn to see Sam pushing himself to his feet with the aid of his crutches. Something warm pulses in my chest, just for a second, then it’s gone in the realization that I can’t take the chair of a guy with a broken ankle. “No way,” I say, at the same time as MC says, “Oh, sorry, I... I must have mis-counted. I’m so sorry, Ashley. Hang on, I’ll grab another chair from the kitchen.”

  She hurries off, looking embarrassed, and I manage to smile at Sam and say, “Thank you, though.”

  He smiles back. “Royalty must be polite and dignified, don’t you agree?”

  We all recognize his words, from one of the first challenges on the show, and burst out laughing.

  “Nice Peter imitation,” Kent’s brother Ron says. “But you need about a gallon more hair gel, and maybe some eye liner.”

  Sam runs his hand over his hair like that slimy host Peter always did, although it isn’t as effective since Sam’s blond hair is tied back in a ponytail and has none of Peter’s almost blinding gloss.

  I much prefer Sam’s looks, actually. Peter always seemed like a mannequin come to life. Sam seems real.

  MC appears with a wooden chair like Sam’s and sets it before me. “Again, sorry,” she says, her brown eyes serious and her cheeks pink. “You’d think I could count this high but apparently not.”

  “It’s okay,” I mumble because I have to.

  She gives me a quick nod and an embarrassed smile and takes her own seat, then says to Kent, “Am I doing this or are you?”

  He shrugs. “Your idea, so go ahead.”

  She blinks twice, fast, and I remember that both she and Kent seemed to have odd eye twitches on the island at various times when they were talking. Maybe they share common allergies.

  “Okay,” she says. “A few people didn’t show up, but to be honest you’re the ones we hoped would be here.”

  I look around, seeing the others doing the same, to figure out who’s missing. I doubt the others are as surprised to be in the ‘hoped you’d be here’ group as I am, though. She really did want me here?

  Or is it Kent’s idea? He tried to comfort me on the island about Brett but I shut him down fast because I couldn’t handle talking about it, so maybe he’s still pitying me. I don’t want to be pitied.

  MC laughs. “To save you time, Faith and Kayla declined to attend on the grounds that they didn’t want to see Kent again, Jody and Tara just declined and didn’t give reasons, and Phillip, well, he’s of the opinion that he’s seen about enough of me for one lifetime.”

  “Which still makes me think they shouldn’t--”

  “Before buddy here blows the surprise,” MC cuts in, rolling her eyes at her fiancé, “let me tell you what we’ve done. As you know, I won a million dollars on the show.”

  Her exes break into applause. Kent’s exes and I sit in silence.

  MC giggles. “Ladies, don’t worry. It turns out that both Kent and I made agreements with our exes to share the money, and we’ve decided we want to keep those agreements. Both of them.”

  We all sit puzzling this through until Kent says, “You’ve confused the stuffing out of them, MC. Okay, guys, here’s the deal. A million dollars becomes about six hundred and fifty grand after taxes.” He pauses to let people groan about the tax system. I don’t groan. I think I might know where they’re goi
ng with this and I can’t believe it. Kent continues with, “And my parents need money because of some bad investment advice and so does MC’s friend Craig, for his little son.”

  “The blind kid,” Aaron says. “Right?”

  “That’s him,” MC says. “But we really feel that you guys deserve a share too, all of you, for everything you did on the island. Even the more difficult people, the ones who aren’t here today, helped in some way.”

  Aaron laughs. “Phillip helped?”

  “He did win us an early contest,” MC says. “So...”

  She grabs a stack of envelopes from the coffee table and begins passing them out as I remember that a few days after that contest Phillip basically called her a slut and she slapped him then exiled him for it. And she’s still going to reward him? No way I would. If I’d won that money, I’d have locked it away into savings, like I do with every cent I can spare. I don’t know what I’m saving for, but I’ve been doing it for as long as I can remember and something about seeing my money grow comforts me.

  We wait until everyone’s holding an envelope then Aaron says, “Go!” and we all rip them open.

  Hardly able to breathe, I stare at what’s inside.

  A check, made out to Ashley Overton, for twenty-three thousand dollars.

  “I wish it could be higher,” MC says, “but fourteen of those add up, and with what we gave to Kent’s parents and Craig, well, this is what we had left.”

  Summer gasps. “You didn’t keep anything?”

  “Six grand,” MC says. “Which we’re going to use for the wedding. Which, by the way, is February 13th and you’re all invited.”

  “Six grand? Out of a million?”

  Aaron elbows Summer, who said exactly what I was thinking. They gave away more than they kept? A ton more? Why? “Shut up, gorgeous, or they’ll take it back.”

  Kent laughs. “We won’t, actually. But feel free to spend twenty-two grand or so on our wedding present.”

  Everyone chuckles, and I manage a little giggle so I fit in though I can’t stop looking at the check. I simply can’t believe they’ve done this. My savings will more than double, and I’ll be able to do whatever I want with the money.

  That thought makes me feel sick. But before I can think about why it does, Michael, the only one who brought a guest, clears his throat. “That’s...” He glances at his wife then looks back at MC. “Wow, that’s really nice of you guys,” he says, and I join the others in clapping for them. It is really nice. It’s crazy, but nice.

  MC blushes and waves him off and Kent says, “Well, we just hope it makes things easier for you all. Since they were anything but easy on the island.”

  He’s got that right.

  “Paige and I kind of need to get going,” Michael says, again glancing at his wife.

  MC nods. “Great to see you again.”

  “You too,” he says, and Paige adds, “All of you,” to which he instantly says, “Of course, all of you.”

  “Oh, and unfortunately we have plans on February 13th,” Paige says, while I recognize the anger in her and wonder where it’s coming from. “But we hope the wedding goes well.”

  MC thanks her, and Michael and Paige head to the door as if their tails are on fire. MC walks them out, although she has to move fast to do it. When she comes back to us she looks sad for a moment, then Kent squeezes her hand and she seems to put it behind her. “Okay. Well. So there’s something else we wanted to talk to you about and now we can.”

  “Without Michael? How come that matters?”

  “Because, Summer,” Kent says firmly. “Now hush up a minute.”

  Aaron laughs. “Good luck, buddy.”

  Summer swats him, and I steel myself for the catch. I knew there’d be a catch.

  “So,” MC says, looking nervous, then jumps when the phone beside her beeps. “Oh, pizza’s here. Hold that thought.”

  “I would, if I knew what the thought was.”

  MC buzzes the pizza guy in then rolls her eyes at Aaron and starts passing out napkins and plates and getting everyone drinks while Kent waits by the door. At one point she and I end up alone in the kitchen, and she says, “Ashley, that thing you said after the reunion show, about Ron and Kent...”

  A mix of anger at that interviewer and myself for having a big mouth and frustration that MC was told floods me, and I say, “Yeah, I know, I’m sorry.”

  “Please don’t say anything else about it, okay? There’s... history... I don’t want to have stirred up.”

  This does stir up my curiosity, but also my fear of the revenge that’ll surely be coming now that she knows I blabbed to that Mimi person. I screwed up and I’m going to pay. That’s how the world works. The only question is whether it’s right now or later. She doesn’t sound furious so it’s probably later. Great. Something to look forward to.

  I nod, because I can’t think of anything else to say, and she nods too and hurries out of the kitchen.

  Sam comes in as she’s leaving and smiles at me. “Got something for you.”

  “You do?” I say, still feeling scared and worried but trying not to show him.

  He digs in his pocket. “Yup. Like I said I would. For helping me off the stage. And at the hotel the day we got back.”

  My throat tightens. I’d never thought he’d really get me a present. “You didn’t have to--”

  He holds out a small silver box. “I know, but I wanted to.”

  I open the box, my hands shaking because I don’t know why he’s doing this and it scares me, then stare at the contents.

  “Because you were such a good fisher,” he says, sounding worried. “I saw it before the reunion show and it made me think of you so then I... is it too weird?”

  “It’s adorable,” I whisper, still staring at the silver pendant of a pudgy little fish. It looks like the kind of thing a kid would draw, but in brushed silver and on a delicate chain. Nobody’s ever given me jewelry before. “I love it.” I make myself look away, up at him. “You really didn’t have to, Sam. Are you sure?”

  “Are you asking,” he says with a small smile, “whether I accidentally bought it and put it in my pocket and came to find you? I know I’m clueless at times but even I couldn’t do all that by mistake.”

  Trying to ignore the burning behind my eyes at this unexpected kindness, I say, “I guess not. Thank you, so much.” A little part of me is scared he’s setting me up to be humiliated, but I can’t see how and he looks so happy that I like his gift that I just can’t believe he’s plotting to do something later. I ease the necklace out of its box and fasten it around my neck, pleased I forgot to put on a necklace at home. Sam watches like he thinks he should help, but he doesn’t try and I think I’m glad. That’d make this weird. Weirder.

  Once the necklace is on, I brush the little fish with my fingertip and he says, “I hope he behaves himself. Nothing worse than an uncooperative fish.”

  I laugh, and thank him again as I put the empty box in my pocket because it’s too cute to throw out, and we head back into the living room. I see MC glance at my neck, and I tense in preparation for a mocking comment, but she just smiles and says, “Everyone got what they need for dinner?”

  We all nod, and I wonder if I should have hugged Sam. Or at least patted his arm or something. I feel like I wasn’t grateful enough. But it’s not like I needed to throw myself on the floor and kiss his feet.

  Did I?

  How would I know? Nobody’s ever given me jewelry, and I don’t think anyone’s ever given me a present just because. How am I supposed to know how to handle this?

  I look over at Sam to try to make sure he’s okay with me, but he’s busy putting his crutches out of the way so I look away again, feeling silly though I’m not sure why.

  MC clears her throat. “Okay, back to business. Kent and I would love it if you guys would be involved in the wedding.”

  I sit awkwardly, smiling with the others but not knowing what to say. Why didn’t she do this when I w
asn’t here?

  “Involved how? Do we get to take it over?”

  Kent chuckles. “No, Summer. MC, you sure about this?”

  “Yup,” she says. “I think. My friend Liv is going to be my maid of honor and Ron will be Kent’s best man.”

  “Picking his brother over me,” Aaron says, shaking his head as Ron chuckles. “So boring.”

  “But far more likely to actually remember to bring the ring.”

  Aaron widens his eyes at MC. “Don’t you trust me, baby?”

  She laughs. “Do you really want that answered?” Over his fervent denial, she says, “And Kent’s sister Holly is going to be a bridesmaid, and...” She turns. “Sam, would you be a groomsman?”

  “Absolutely,” he says, smiling at her. “And with any luck by then I’ll be able to walk down the aisle instead of hobble.”

  “Either way, I want you there,” she said, returning his smile. “And though I might regret this, Aaron, you too?”

  “Already told you so, at the reunion show.”

  “Yeah, but this time I’m actually inviting you instead of you just butting in.”

  He feigns shock.

  She rolls her eyes. “You in or not?”

  He winks at her. “In, baby. Definitely in.”

  Kent shakes his head, smiling. “Never thought I’d have another man calling my fiancée ‘baby’.”

  “No point worrying about it,” MC says, grinning at him. “Not like you could stop him.”

  “True enough. And...”

  He waits, and MC angles herself toward Summer and says, “Would you be my bridesmaid too?”

  Summer, for once, is almost speechless. “Really?” She looks from MC to Kent and back again. “You’re sure?”

  They both nod, and she says, “Well, yes. Definitely. Thank you. I... thank you.”

  Aaron links his arm through Summer’s and says something about walking her up the aisle after the wedding, while I wonder why on earth Kent would want his ex-wife in his new wedding party. Unless he’s planning on cheating on MC with Summer, but the way he lights up whenever he looks at MC doesn’t make that seem likely. Still, who knows? People are jerks.

 

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