The Game
Page 8
We have exams coming up, Gem reminded them.
If we party at my house, May will be here, Ben said.
Gem’s reply was instant. We should celebrate
We’re second-semester seniors. My parents will be out of town Saturday night. We should party, Ben said.
When you say party, what do you mean exactly? Devon asked.
Parties were not really Lia’s thing or, she suspected, Devon’s.
Junk food, games, and whatever else we feel like, Ben said. No one can stay past midnight, and no one can get messed up. If anyone does, May and I lose guesthouse privileges
Everyone was cool with those rules.
Good. Get there whenever after five, Ben said. Bring anything you want but I’ll get pizza and drinks. Also, if you got any games you want to play, bring them
By the time Lia cleared it with her parents—she told them it was a study group over dinner—Gem had sent back one message just to her.
Guest. House. Privileges.
It was hard to miss that Ben’s family had money. His parents did tech stuff, giving them enough to live in Chenaux. The neighborhood was newer than its name implied, and the houses were a hodgepodge of McMansions and geometric modern things. Ben’s house was one of those modern homes that looked like an Escher painting if you stared too long.
Gem picked up Lia, Devon already in the back, and Lia slid into the seat next to him. He was wearing what he always wore, though he picked at the hem of his sweater in a way Lia had never seen. Gem wore a pair of faux leather bike shorts and their mom’s old University of Arkansas sweatshirt. Lia pulled her jacket tighter around her plain shirt.
“May is going to be there for a little while,” Gem said instead of greeting her.
Lia glanced at Devon. “Gem has been planning their first date with May for a while now.”
“It’s not a date,” muttered Gem, checking their reflection in the rearview mirror. “Yet.”
“Good luck.” Devon smiled at them in the rearview mirror. “You look really good.”
Lia patted Gem’s shoulder. When the group arrived at Ben’s house, Gem looked in the mirror once and nodded. Devon jumped out and held the door open. Lia and Devon walked to the door a few steps behind Gem, who knocked with a shaking hand.
May opened the door. “Ben! Your murder friends are here!” she shouted up the stairs behind her. She leaned on the door with one arm stretched to the top of it, all six feet of her taking up the whole entranceway. She looked like some flirtatious knight who could kick your butt or carry it over the threshold. She tapped her fingers against the frame. “I hear you’re doing well.”
“Yeah,” Gem said. “We’ve gotten two people.”
“Nice,” May said.
Devon leaned down and whispered in Lia’s ear, “You look good, by the way.”
“Thank you,” Lia whispered back.
His lips brushed her ear, as if he were about to say something else.
“Yes!” Ben thundered down the stairs and skidded across the floor. He bowed over one arm and gestured deeper into the house. “After y’all.”
They stepped inside. May shut and locked the door behind them. Ben and May’s parents were rich in a way that made Lia’s stomach hurt. The house had to have five bedrooms, and she was sure the kitchen that Ben led them through was bigger than any she’d ever seen. The five of them wandered out into the large backyard. Ben pointed to a small houselike shed against the far fence.
“I’ve got food, drinks, and enough games to keep us busy for three years,” Ben said. “What do you want to do first?”
“He loves hosting,” May whispered in Gem’s ear, her hand on their shoulder. “He’s like an old lady. If he could major in ‘party throwing,’ he would.”
“Old ladies can do whatever they want,” Ben said. “It’s not an insult.”
“I’ll give you my grandmother’s recipe for ambrosia salad, and then you’ll be halfway to full old-lady-hood,” offered Lia.
Ben clapped her on the shoulder slightly too hard. “I’ll be unstoppable at potlucks.”
“God help us if you figure out how to make doilies.” Gem laughed. “I’m good with playing Smash and eating. What are you doing tonight?”
“I could eat,” said May, eyes never leaving Gem. “And if any of you lose to Ben, I’m kicking you out.”
Devon snorted. “Should I leave now, then?”
“No, I’ll teach you,” Lia said. “After I win a few times.”
“You two can sneak off later. I’ll teach you how to play,” Ben said, rubbing his hands together. “Come on.”
The inside of the guesthouse was one room with a kitchenette and attached bathroom. Lia dropped into an old beanbag, and Devon fell onto the couch behind her. May and Gem talked about the gym and other things Lia couldn’t quite hear until they all started playing “Pictionary but better” as Ben put it, and Lia didn’t have the heart to correct him. Devon was a terrible drawer but Lia was excellent, and he wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her up and off the couch to keep her from beating him again. She landed half in his lap, face to his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her so that she couldn’t move her hands to draw. She laughed into his shoulder.
She wasn’t used to playing group games. It was nice.
Lia knocked Devon’s chin with her forehead. “Free me.”
This was so much better.
“Not a chance,” he said. “You should have to draw with your toes. It’s not fair.”
His grip loosened during the next round. She leaned across his lap, her head on the arm of the couch and his arms resting on her stomach. She glanced up at him and caught his eyes on her. He looked away.
He lost that round, too.
“All right,” Devon said. “I have to take a break. This is terrible for my ego. Prince is a monster.”
An odd little thrill threaded its way through Lia’s belly. She was good at this, and she was finally getting to show that off. Devon didn’t seem to really mind losing, though. “I could use a break, too. Want to walk around?”
“Yes!” May slipped from the couch to the floor next to Gem. “Finally someone else can have a shot at winning.”
Devon shrugged and helped Lia up from the beanbag. They wandered outside into the backyard, their path lit by fairy lights. Devon didn’t let go of her hand, the soft tug of his fingers leading her to a lit alcove full of lavender stalks and mums. He sat on a little stone bench and Lia sat next to him. The cold crept between them. Lia scooted closer to him.
Devon curled his arm around her. “Okay?” he asked.
“No,” she said, and he pulled away. “Wait. No. I just mean this would be okay if I weren’t so short.”
They moved from the bench to the grass. She stretched her legs out across the lawn, and nestled the back of her head in the crook of his right elbow. Her side was pressed to his warm chest. His leg shook beneath her back. Lia pulled his left arm across her waist. He laid his hand against her side.
“I like listening to you talk.” Devon sighed, his fingers tapping against her hip. “You used to talk all the time in class.”
“I got in trouble all the time, too.” Lia swallowed. She talked too much when she got started—rambling off facts and going on tangents no one asked for. She never noticed until midway through a sentence, and then it was too late. “Do you really like listening to me?”
“When you talk about things you like? Yes.” He rubbed the hem of her shirt between his fingers, knuckles grazing bare skin. “Physics was the best. You always talked in physics.”
“You know there’s a planet we can’t see but is there,” she said slowly, trying to remember something she hadn’t talked about in physics. His hand, warm and soft, flattened against her skin beneath her shirt. Her breathing quickened. “We only know it’s t
here because everything we can see reacts to it in some way. Invisible but consequential. I feel like that sometimes.”
“You have an interesting take on romance.” He chuckled.
Lia turned her face to look at him. “It’s true. You never notice me.”
“I always notice you,” he said. “I hate that you sit behind me in biology. Makes me nervous. What if I do something embarrassing? You’ll write it down in that little leather journal.”
“That’s my Assassins journal. I wouldn’t write about you in it, and it’s gone anyway. I left it in Ms. Christie’s class. It had my email in it and everything, but no one messaged me to return it.” Lia’s skin was too warm, too tight, and her next words were a whisper. “It’s my spiral journal where I write down all your embarrassing moments.”
He laughed, and her head bounced against him. His heart pounded through his ribs, a steady beat she could barely hear.
“Is this supposed to be romantic?” she asked softly, voice muffled by his sweater.
“Yes, we’re stargazing,” he said, tilting his head back to stare at the stars. “I wanted to focus on my grades and not date anyone, and I don’t know what I’m doing, but school’s basically over and you’re going away probably. I wasn’t sure what to do. But I knew I wanted to get to know you.”
“So you joined the game.” She brought her right hand up to his face and traced a line from the corner of his mouth to his eye. “You joined the game to talk to me?”
He licked his lips. “That about sums it up.”
He shifted beneath her, and Lia sat up. She cupped his face, turning him to face her. Stars filled his dark eyes.
“You know I’ve liked you since seventh grade, right?” she asked.
“What?” His fingers pressed into her hip. “No. Really?”
Lia nodded. She could feel the stars in him, the promise of a future and life. It was heat and tenderness, the way his hand seared without hurting, and he tilted his head to the side. The moonlight struck his skin and glittered like frost on autumn leaves. He had joined to be close to her. He had wanted to be close to her.
And she wanted to live.
Lia leaned in till her mouth was an inch from his. His lips brushed Lia’s, but he didn’t move closer. She laced her fingers around the back of his neck and pulled his mouth to hers. His breath caught and his fingers tightened. The kiss carried on until the thundering of their hearts became footsteps heading their way.
“So,” he said, and pulled away. His hand stroked her spine through her shirt. “Strategically, we’re doing great.”
“Well, your plan succeeded,” she said, a coil of thrill tightening in her belly. His plan had been to get closer to her! Her! He didn’t want to kill her after all. Well, maybe he did, but gently. “Mine is still in the works.”
“You’ll win.” He laced his fingers with hers and helped her up. “I believe in you.”
And as much as she loved the words, they hurt. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had.
They left Ben’s at 11:30, and Gem dropped Lia off at her house. Devon hadn’t kissed her goodbye, not in Gem’s car, but he hadn’t let go of her hand until she had opened the car door. They hadn’t talked much more in the alcove, but they had kissed there. A lot.
That seemed much better than talking.
The last two hours at Ben’s had been spent playing games, and now, back at home, Lia’s mind was racing as quickly as her heart.
She’d made out with Devon! He had said he liked her! He had joined the game to spend time with her!
Lia pressed her back to the front door, slid down it, and buried her face in her knees. His hands were as lovely as she’d always imagined. She couldn’t let the game end now that they finally had something to do together.
“Lia?” her mom’s voice called from the dark.
“Yes?”
“Just making sure it’s you,” her mom said. “How’d it go?”
“Great!” Lia said, and she was sure her voice broke. “I’m going to sleep and then Ben’s picking us up in the morning for more game stuff.”
Her mom sighed, still half in the dark. “Okay, get plenty of rest.”
“I will.”
Lia’s phone vibrated, and she pulled it out. The light blinded her.
All my assassinsssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss home alive?
Ben had asked at midnight. It took them all a while to respond, but when they all had an hour later, he’d said:
Good. Sleep well
Lia did.
Except she woke up half an hour after Ben was supposed to pick her up, and her phone had five messages waiting for her.
Have you heard from Ben? Gem had asked twice.
Devon had replied, No. He’s late for me too
Lia?
You there?
Lia responded and dashed to the bathroom.
I’m here. Maybe he overslept? I did
Gem said: Let me steal the car, and we can see what’s up. I bet he’s asleep
But an uneasy ache wound itself around Lia’s chest as she got into Gem’s car half an hour later. Their plan to meet up and discuss their new target—Nora from Ben’s English class—and figure out how to keep Gem and Devon safe from their assassins was put on hold. Lia’s assassin still hadn’t made themselves known. It was oddly insulting.
The Barnard house was dark when they arrived. The sun had long come up, making empty eyes of the windows bearing down on them. Lia hung back as Devon rang the doorbell, but no one answered. Gem banged on the door for a bit before texting May. She was a few blocks over at a friend’s house. Finally, the three of them hopped the tall wooden fence leading to the backyard.
The patio table was overturned. Broken glass littered the stones and crunched beneath their shoes. The chairs were sideways and broken, legs hanging on by thin strips of wood. Blood, dark and dry, stained the outside wall in a splattered arc. Gem screamed.
“Ben!” Lia darted forward. Last time, she had been dazed. Last time, she had done nothing. “No, no, no, no.”
She leapt over a fallen chair and stumbled to her knees. Ben, unmoving, lay facedown on the patio. The broken glass bit into her knees, and Ben didn’t move or moan when she turned him over. Cuts and scratches peppered the bare skin of his arms. Lia shoved her shoulder against his. He fell onto his back. His head lolled to the side.
The skin around his mouth and nose was red and bubbled as if he had been badly burned. A small silver knife was lodged deep into his left eye. Long gashes had torn his shirt to shreds, and his hand slipped off his chest. The fingers were bent back, bones snapped clean through the skin. The skin from fingertips to elbow was red, raw, and blistered. Lia gagged.
Devon’s voice rumbled behind her, thick and slurred. Gem’s hands closed around her shoulders and pulled her back. Their voice, too, spluttered and slowed, and Lia tried to tell them they weren’t making any sense, she couldn’t hear her own voice. A high-pitched whine built in her ears. Her eyes burned.
Lia vomited against the fence, far away from Ben, and wiped her mouth.
“I don’t know how long….No, he’s not, I mean, there’s no way….No, it’s just us….The backyard,” Devon said into his phone. His free hand was over his eyes, and his head was tilted back. Tears dripped down either side of his face. “Please hurry.”
“What did they do to him?” Gem cried.
Lia closed her eyes and shook her head. “His hand. His fingers. They broke his fingers.”
“He’s in the same clothes,” Devon said. His voice cracked, and he didn’t move from his spot in the yard, only a few steps from Ben’s body. Still, he didn’t look down. “He’s in the same clothes from last night, but he messaged us. He messaged us.”
“May can’t be here. She can’t,” Gem whispered.
Gem fled the backyard. Lia chased after, gripping Gem’s hand when they heaved into the bushes. Devon joined them, still on the phone with 911. The voice at the other end rambled on. Lia shuddered.
“Do you know what time you left last night?” the person on the other end was asking.
Devon opened his mouth, blinked, and lost the words. He stared at Lia, shaking his head as the 911 operator repeated the question, and Lia reached out to hit the speaker button. He closed his eyes.
“I think we left before midnight,” Lia said. “And he’s in the same clothes as then.”
Devon leaned his forehead against Lia’s, and they each mumbled answers to the operator whenever the other couldn’t find the strength to answer. Soon, blue and red lights flickered down the street. The world slowed and blurred again like it had with Abby, but this time it was so much worse.
The paramedics showed up first. They checked over Gem, Devon, and Lia before stepping aside. The cops, the same ones Lia had met barely two weeks ago, questioned them and catalogued their shoes and fingerprints. One swabbed the blood soaking Lia’s pants and called the paramedics back over. The glass had cut her knees. Their parents were called, and Lia could hear the confusion in her mom’s voice.
“You turn him over?” one of the detectives; Lia recognized him but couldn’t remember his name.
The paramedic shook her head. “DOA. They did.”
He glanced over at them. Lia ducked her head, desperate to be smaller. The detective took a step toward them, and a shriek rang out across the street.
May.
The paramedics grabbed her and calmed her down as much as they could. She sobbed against one of them. Gem and Lia held on to each other.
* * *
Lia said nothing until she was home, the door was shut and locked, and she had showered Ben’s blood off of her. She could still hear May crying in her head.
“I’ve made an appointment with Dr. Woods for you Monday,” her mom said. She sat on the edge of Lia’s bed, face drawn and pale. “No arguing.”