The Social Experiment

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The Social Experiment Page 21

by Addison Moore


  And tomorrow—Braden will send us to hell.

  A dark boil of clouds clusters above Leland University as we ready for the first big storm of the season.

  Surprisingly, I live long enough to go to all my classes the next day. Rowen keeps in touch with me through a steady stream of text messages, and as soon as we’re both through with classes, we boldly meet up for a cup of coffee.

  Heads turn as soon as we walk into the place. A few girls let out catcalls, and suddenly I feel the blistering stare of a thousand different eyes. A girl snaps a picture of the two of us just as I place my order.

  The cashier laughs while he rings us up. “So I take it you went for the second date.” The boy with squared-off glasses chuckles as he gives Rowen back his change. “I mean, you’re here together, so you must still be dating, right?”

  I glance to Rowen before answering. “We’ll leave that cliffhanger for the next episode.”

  We pick up our drinks, and Rowen nods for me to follow him out the door.

  “Thank God,” I hiss. “For a second, I thought you were about to sit us dead in the middle of that overcrowded room with its Halloween decorations, spiders, witches, and ghosts—but do you know what the scariest thing is? The scariest thing of all is turning out to be that social experiment we signed up for.”

  His lips flex into a dry smile. “Let’s try Dexter’s office one more time.”

  Rowen let me know he was checking in between classes, and God knows I showed up kicking and screaming but to no avail. Not even Seth or Petra has been available today. Damn cowards.

  “So, what do we do about Braden?” I ask as we cross the field on our way to that demonic hovel where Dexter has his office.

  The sky lets out a ferocious growl as if weighing in on the conversation, and a light sprinkle begins to fall.

  “Don’t worry about Braden. Come here.” Rowen pulls me in tight. His ocean gray eyes fall over mine, and there’s a reassurance in them that lets me know that everything will be okay. “I love you, Soph. I’m sorry that Mindy hurt you.” His fingers gently caress my neck. Thankfully, she didn’t leave any marks, but she tore at the scars in my heart. “She didn’t mean it.”

  “She meant it.”

  He blows a heavy breath into the wind. “Okay, she might have meant it in the moment, but she doesn’t feel that way. She cares about us. She doesn’t want to see either of us hurt.”

  “You believe your own lies, Garret?”

  “I believe in us.” His lips land over mine as the rain falls with a little more promise.

  Rowen believes in us. That’s all I need to know. That’s all I ever need to know.

  “Sophie!” someone shouts my name in the distance, and I pull back, terrified by that all too familiar voice.

  “That’s Braden.” I give Rowen’s arm a tug in the opposite direction, but he doesn’t budge.

  “No, let’s do this.”

  “Are you nuts?” The rain starts to pelt us a little harder as if warning us to go.

  Like a demon staining the horizon, my brother’s frame pops up. Braden sways with rage as he stampedes his way forward. His chin is dipped to his chest, his eyes are lit like flames, his face set in a wicked grin as if he’s already relishing what he’s about to do. But it’s that baseball bat swaying in his hand that has a scream curdling from my throat. Mindy may have tried to slaughter me with her hands, but Braden is going for assault with a deadly weapon.

  Rowen’s chest expands as Braden draws near, and he hands me his coffee. “You called the bat.”

  “That I did.”

  Without hesitating, I jump between the two of them, before Braden starts swinging at Rowen like a piñata, and send scalding hot lattes raining down over the three of us. Leave it to me to initiate an espresso-based thermonuclear war.

  “What the fuck did I just see?” Braden is asking me, but he’s staring down Rowen like a hunter keeping his eye on his prey.

  “We were just talking.” My voice pitches. “Braden, put down the bat. I can explain everything.”

  He cinches it in his hand, and it jumps with a threat. “Get back, Sophie. This isn’t about you anymore.” His growls are set tight, his eyes completely focused on Rowen as if I wasn’t even in their presence.

  “This is about me.” I make a dive for the bat, and he jerks it out of reach. “Let me explain!”

  “Let you explain?” he roars through the rain. “Let you explain why this fucker was taking advantage of you like that?”

  “Becca told you?”

  “Becca didn’t say shit. I watched the stupid show on my own. I saw a teaser. Imagine my surprise when I saw my very own sister’s beautiful face on the screen?” He’s shouting so loud it stings to listen to him. “And then seeing this cocksucker treating you like a common street whore!” He swings, and Rowen tries to catch it with his hand, but gets his knuckle slapped so loud it sounds as if a firecracker just went off.

  “Oh my God!” I howl as Rowen bends over to nurse his hand and gets pelted on the back of the legs by Braden.

  Braden lands the bat hard over Rowen’s back, and I jump on top of him in an effort to shield him. The wind from the bat comes dangerously close to my head before Braden roars and tosses the bat down the field.

  “Get the hell off!” Braden plucks me from his body as Rowen moans his way to his feet.

  “You piece of shit!” Braden lands his fist to Rowen’s chin, and an audible pop fills the air.

  “You’re killing him!” I shrill as the rain continues to pepper us with its icy bites.

  Rowen lets out a thunderous roar of his own and pulls Braden in by the shirt.

  “You don’t touch me again, or I will go ape on your ass and you will drown in the rain because you won’t have two whole legs to walk on when I’m through with you.”

  Braden pulls him forward by the shirt. “You think this is funny, don’t you? You think this is the perfect revenge. You can’t have Becca, so put your moves on my little sister.”

  “I’m not interested in Becca. You wanted her, you can keep her. But I’m not staying away from Sophie. Sophie’s mine.”

  My stomach pinches with heat when he says it. If you could frame a moment in time, this would be the one for me.

  Braden launches out in full assault. It turns out my brother doesn’t need a baseball bat to commit a felony level assault. But Rowen comes back to life and starts pounding the shit out of Braden until I’m pretty certain we’re going to see gray matter spilling out all over the field.

  “Stop!” I shout like some stereotypical helpless girlfriend trying to break up a fight between her boyfriend and a bully, and I hate it. “Stop killing each other! I love him, Braden!” I scream so loud my throat rubs raw. I run over to the muddy mess they’ve rolled to and start kicking the shit out of both of them. “Rowen, stop! You’re hurting my brother!”

  My leg gets caught in the melee, and I end up on the ground, sucked into the hungry machine of anger that’s eating them both alive. Before they come to a full halt, Braden’s elbow lands under my chin and knocks my head back onto the soggy field.

  “Sophie.” Rowen picks me up and pulls me onto his lap.

  “You asshole!” Braden yanks me right back out and pulls me to his chest. The rain comes down hard, and it feels as if I’m the one that’s drowning. “Are you okay?”

  “No, I’m not okay!” I slap my hands over his chest in an effort to get away. “Why does it matter to you that I’m with Rowen?”

  “You’re not with him, Soph.” The veins in my brother’s neck distend. “He’s using you.”

  “I’m not using anybody.” Rowen attempts to pull me to him, and a tug-of-war ensues.

  “You’re using her just like you said you would!”

  “What?” The world stops, and I can’t breathe, can’t see straight.

  Rowen shakes his head. “It’s not like that, Soph.”

  “The hell it isn’t.” Braden steadies his anger right over his old fri
end. “You swore to me you’d get even. That you would find a way to hurt me. And this is exactly what this is.”

  “It is not.” My voice shakes. “Tell him, Rowen.”

  Braden yanks me toward him, nearly pulling my arm out of its socket. “To hell it’s not. Why else would he have asked me how you were doing in the fucking bathroom of all places a few weeks back? He was gloating!”

  “Yes, I was gloating. You got me.” Rowen scowls at Braden before helping me to my feet. Braden gets up slow and moaning as if Rowen had already made good on his promise.

  “Stay away from my sister.” He turns to me. “And you stay the hell away from this piece of shit!”

  “He wasn’t gloating,” I say, wrapping an arm around Rowen. “Tell him I’m not some object of revenge you’ve plotted out to hurt him.”

  Rowen closes his eyes a moment, and even with his hair plastered to his head, he looks unfairly, recklessly sexy.

  “I may have gloated a little bit.”

  My stomach sinks.

  “But that’s only because your brother is the only piece of shit around here.” He touches his jaw as if trying to set it back into place. “Tell your sister the truth. Tell her what you did and how far you’ve gone to cover it up.”

  Braden glances back toward the street as if he were glancing to Becca for permission.

  “What’s the truth, Braden?” I’m screaming through the rain once again.

  He looks to Rowen with the grimace of a demonic clown. “You go first, sweetheart.”

  A moment thumps by with the two of them locked in a pissing contest over who breaks first. And it’s becoming hauntingly clear they both have something they would rather I not know.

  “Rowen, tell me what’s going on. Tell me right now, or I’m going to flip the hell out.” But Rowen doesn’t break his hard stance toward my brother. “Fine. Fuck both of you!” I break free from Rowen’s stronghold and take a step back. “Neither of you talks to me until you grow the hell up. Whatever this is about, it happened years ago! Becca isn’t that big a prize, Braden! And, you!” I shout over to Rowen as the rain fills my mouth. “I thought I meant more to you than some stupid little secret!” I take off for Canterbury like my life depends on it.

  And it feels like exactly that.

  Neither Rowen nor Braden comes after me. They’ll probably both be dead by morning.

  And if they don’t kill each other—maybe I’ll do it for them.

  Rowen

  The rain comes down hard as Sophie ditches us for the shelter of her dormitory. I know she’s safe. I know she’ll be dry in a few minutes, but I also know she needs some space. Braden grunts as he limps away, and I follow him as far as the Underground. His apartment is only a few steps away, and I figure if he didn’t black out by now, I know he’ll make it back to his bed. I’m sure Becca is waiting to kiss it and make it all better.

  The rain picks up, and I don’t hesitate jumping into the bar to get a brief reprieve from the storm. The air inside is sour, a mixture of perspiration and old sweat socks. Surprisingly, it’s pumping. A few girls whom I had deemed as regulars are already starting to circle.

  I offer an awkward wave as I head straight for the bar and fall into a seat.

  “Whoa. It must be really coming down out there.” A dark-haired dude with a wool coat scoots his hat over a seat. He leans in, getting a better look, and winces as if he were in pain for me.

  Funny. I can’t feel shit. Numbness is never a good sign, but I’m not numb because Braden tried to beat the crap out of me. I’m numb because Pandora’s box was unleashed tonight, and I don’t know how to get the lid back on. The last thing I want to do is relive the past. I want nothing more than to focus on the here and now—to focus on having a future with Sophie.

  “Two.” He scoots his empty glass toward the bartender. “You look like you need a beer. It’s on me.”

  “Thanks,” I grunt it out without the proper enthusiasm.

  “If you look this bad, I’d hate to see the other guy.” He gives a half-hearted chuckle as the bartender brings us both a beer. “I’m Lane,” he says, scooting an amber glass my way. “Let me guess. This involved a girl.” He takes a sip of his drink and gives a wistful shake of the head.

  “Yes, it involved a girl,” I moan as I suck the foam off the top. “Her brother doesn’t exactly approve. Not that I want or need his approval.”

  “Brother, huh?” He grimaces because we all know the brother’s approval makes things move a lot smoother. “So, what’s up with this dude? He catch you in the act? That’s a pretty nasty cut above your eye. You don’t earn that from just one kiss.”

  “Nope. I was holding her. Hard to believe, I know—but there were other issues, too.”

  “There always are, man.” He clicks his glass to mine as if toasting the fact. “Are things still good with her? Or is this the end of the line for the two of you?”

  “It’s not the end of the line. I won’t let it be.” I swallow hard and hear the echo in my ears. “But we’ve got a lot of baggage to wade through.” Slowly I tell him about my history with Braden. How I ended up reconnecting with Sophie a few weeks back. I leave out the petty details such as the social experiment. Either he already knows and he’s playing it off, or he doesn’t and I really don’t give a shit. But the last thing I want to do is mention Dexter’s name or I might end up breaking every glass in this damn place.

  “Dude.” He shakes his head in that pathetic way that lets me know I’m without hope. “I wish I could help you out, but I’m the last person on the planet who could give you solid advice.”

  “That’s all right, man. It helped just getting it out.” I send a text to Sophie. Can I come up?

  She texts right back. NO! And I flash the phone to my new beer buddy.

  He grunts out a laugh. “That’s brutal. But trust me, I know all about brutal. I don’t have the best track record when it comes to the ladies.”

  Becca bounces through my mind and then Sophie.

  “That’s something we have in common because neither do I.”

  Sophie was right. Braden and I are each harboring our own secrets. Each one more stubborn than the next in relinquishing them.

  But Braden’s big secret is a bombshell, one he won’t give willingly, one he sold our friendship for a long time ago. I don’t know how he looks at himself in the mirror. I don’t know how he recognizes himself. The Braden I once knew wouldn’t have let this happen. Hell, the Rowen I once knew wouldn’t have let this drag out for so fucking long.

  My knuckles land hard in front of Lane in an effort to get this attention. “So, what would you do if someone from your past wanted to start rattling the skeletons around in the closet?”

  Lane blows out a heavy breath, staring hard at nothing in front of him. “I don’t think I’d mind at this point. I think about that every damn day, dude.” He gets up and lands a quick pat to my shoulder. “Every damn day.” He takes off, pressing that fedora over his head before diving into the swimming pool Moon Ridge is becoming.

  Lane—this perfect stranger I just spilled my guts to—wouldn’t mind having the past dragged out in front of him. Why should I? I think it’s time I stopped covering for Braden. The last time I did that it cost me Sophie.

  I’ll be damned if I let that happen again.

  Watch out, Braden. The very thing that’s terrified you is about to come true.

  Not shockingly, Dexter Houston is out of town for a few days. Mindy is hardly speaking to me, unless you count the steady stream of expletives she’s texting on a regular basis. But I know things will iron out between us. They always do. Sophie, however, doesn’t return my calls or my texts. She won’t open the door to her room for me. She’s closed me off, and that hurts more than anything else.

  Wednesday night, it’s just Petra and I sitting in her office waiting for Seth to tell us if Sophie showed up.

  “What do you think happened?” Petra looks frightened out of her mind as if I’ve lost he
r kid at the mall.

  “She’s pissed at me.” I leave it at that. “Something happened, and she’s not happy with the way I acted.”

  “My God, did you open up the ticket counter again?” She glances down to my crotch with a look of disgust, and I cringe.

  “No. The ticket counter is closed. It’s just Sophie for me. Look, this involves her brother and some ancient history.”

  “The brother found out!” Her eyes widen as she reaches over to steal a chip from an open bag lying on her desk.

  “Yes, her brother found out. And do you want to know why? Because Dexter Soon-to-be-Dead Houston didn’t keep his word.” I drop my knuckles over the desk with a bang.

  “What word?” Her thick worm-like brows twitch in tandem.

  “I asked him not to air my segment, and he said he wouldn’t.”

  “Really?” Her mouth falls open as she reaches for another chip.

  “Yes, really.”

  “Oh!” Her entire face smooths out with an epiphany. “That must be why you and Sophie were so brazenly open. I mean, that Sugar Puss stuff was priceless, but I wouldn’t want the whole world in on that sugared tidbit. The fact her dad gifted her the nickname was totally twisted.” She shakes it off as if it were ridiculous. “But that is one of Dexter’s maxims—say whatever you need to say to relax the exhibits.”

  Exhibits. In the end that’s all we were to Dexter, something to be observed, to be bought and sold. We were nothing more than cheap commodities he could exploit to make a quick dime for himself. He didn’t care what it would cost Sophie and me.

  “Shit. He lied. Dexter never intended on cutting those scenes. We fell right into his wicked hands—which I will break once I find him.”

  “Not if you’re smart. He may have great ideas, but he’s got better lawyers.”

  “Figures. So, what’s tonight?” I glance out at the empty hall, and my heart wrenches at the thought that maybe Sophie isn’t coming.

  “An all cast mixer.” Petra gives a snooty nod as if it were totally acceptable to refer to Sophie and me as the cast. “Speed dating in the conference room. It’s designed to strengthen or destroy. Dexter says you need a little drama this close to the end. It’s good for—”

 

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