Nice Try, Jane Sinner

by Lianne Oelke

MARC

  Chick-En Mc-Nug-Gets Club!

  JS

  So, you guys just . . . eat . . . Chicken McNuggets?

  Marc crossed his arms.

  MARC

  Ugh, I thought you’d be cool about this, Sinner.

  HAMBURGLAR 1

  It’s like . . . if you have to explain why it’s a club, why are you even here?

  JS

  So what’s this about initiation, then? You guys swear an oath or something?

  Someone snorted.

  MR. DUBS

  It’s more like a rite of passage. Each of us has done it. Now it’s your turn.

  I sensed a trap closing in.

  MR. DUBS

  Twenty pieces, twenty minutes.

  Marc clapped his hands together.

  MARC

  Let’s do this!

  JS

  And that’s it? Eat a twenty-pack and you’re part of the club?

  HAMBURGLAR 2

  You come back if you’re still lovin’ it.

  If this was the price of social acceptance, the price was too damn high.

  The sea parted as Marc took a swiveling plastic seat. He pointed with his eyebrows at the seat next to him. A million stares were on my back, pushing me forward. Before I knew it, I was sitting down too. I couldn’t see Mr. Dubs’s face, but I could feel his big eyes grow bigger and his weird little quarter smile twitch behind his mask. I didn’t approve of his approval.

  A Hamburglar with bright green nails placed a greasy container in front of both of us. Marc caught my eye and grinned, like being made to stuff his face with McDonald’s in front of an audience was the best thing that could have happened to him.

  I couldn’t do it. This was not my life. I was better than this.

  Who am I kidding?

  I am a girl who was kicked out of high school after fucking up therapy, who has since decided that joining a reality show was the best chance of a fresh start.

  I am not above the McNugz Club.

  And hey, there were no cameras around. So I could always pretend this never happened.

  GREEN NAIL POLISH HAMBURGLAR

  Dipping sauce?

  JS

  Uhm. Uhm, honey mustard?

  HAMBURGLARS

  Ooooh, bold choice.

  I was about to start eating, but everyone’s eyes were on Mr. Dubs. Waiting. He stretched out the moment and probably stretched out his smile as well.

  MR. DUBS

  [whispering]

  Begin.

  It turns out that twenty McNugz starts to look like too many McNugz somewhere after five. I really started to slow down after ten. I gave up on sauce after twelve—​I didn’t have room, and the tanginess of the honey mustard burned the roof of my mouth. Bold choice, indeed. By then, Marc was dangling the last nugget over his mouth, head tilted back, reveling in the chant of Nugz! Nugz! Nugz! that had sprung up out of nowhere and kept getting louder. Marc swallowed his last mouthful, drumming his fingers on the table. The Hamburglars cheered. The woman at the till rolled her eyes.

  The chanting didn’t stop after Marc finished. I didn’t want to keep going, but I did anyway—​I lost myself to the rhythm of the Nugz.

  Fourteen.

  Fifteen.

  HAMBURGLARS

  NUGZ! NUGZ! NUGZ! NUGZ!

  Sixteen.

  Seventeen.

  There was no stopping it. This is how it happens, isn’t it? This is how radicals are born, how monsters are created.

  MARC

  NUGZ! NUGZ! NUGZ! Ha-ha-ha . . .

  The passion in his eyes unnerved me.

  The last few nugz were excruciating. I wanted to crush the last one under my heel and set its mutilated remains on fire. Instead, I dunked it in honey mustard. Then turned it over and dunked the other side. Total submersion.

  HAMBURGLARS

  Oooooooooh!

  I ate it all. The crowd went wild.

  Marc was way too happy about it, slapping my back like we were bros. Mr. Dubs took off his mask and formally shook our hands. Green Nail Polish Hamburglar high-fived me and invited us out for drinks later.

  Look, Mom! I’m making friends.

  And, yes. I’ll admit it was a little fun to have a crowd cheering me on, although I would have preferred it to be for other reasons. Maybe Bonnie and Jenna were wrong about me not being extroverted enough for the show. This doesn’t mean I’m one of the Hamburglars now. I’m not saying I’ll go back. All I’m saying, I guess, is that the idea of eating McNugz again at some point in my life isn’t completely repulsive.

  A little bit of research has shown that the McNugz Club is the third-most popular club at Elbow River, after Recreational Ceramics and Coupon Club. McNugz Club is sponsored, of course, by Mr. Dubs. Dubs’s Nugz. They sell T-shirts online.

  SatApr9

  POKER NIGHT.

  Texas Hold’em. Winner takes immunity.

  Everything was set up in the garage. Cards, chips, converted billiards table, beer. Gaudy table lamps and a chandelier cast warm light and black shadows everywhere. The best part was Alexander Park: hands resting on the billiard table, arms spread apart, sleeves rolled up. He wore a visor and suspenders, and a lit cigar dangled from his lopsided grin.

  AP

  Welcome to House of Poker.

  Before we got started, a makeup artist powdered our faces to soften the glare of the chandelier. Marc seemed to enjoy that the makeup artist took longer with him than with any of the other guys. Maybe he felt like a movie star. I guess he didn’t understand that it was because he has more wrinkles than anyone else.

  The makeup artist also had a selection of leather jackets, lipstick, sunglasses, and hats to choose from. Robbie chose a pair of oversize plastic sunglasses. Chaunt’Elle grabbed a leather jacket and fake eyelashes. Raj took a well-worn leather vest. Holly took a pink bow for her hair. I put on a neon purple baseball cap and bright red lipstick. Marc chose to take off clothing instead. AP stopped him at his boxers and undershirt. A HOOcap went over the rules while we adjusted our wardrobe. For the most part we looked good. By the time we sat down, we were all ready to play. AP set up the immunity idol (a Don Cherry bobblehead) on the side of the table as motivation.

  Holly blew the first hand out of the water. No one saw it coming. Not even Holly. Raj took the next two. Seven empty Coke cans and two close-ups of the sweat trickling down Marc’s neck later, AP upped the stakes.

  AP

  All right, listen up. Whoever takes the next hand wins a pair of movie tickets.

  AP dealt me the three of clubs and the eight of diamonds. The four and the queen and king of hearts turned up in the river. I decided to make everyone believe I had an amazing hand. I really don’t know much about poker, but if it’s supposed to be all psychology, I should have an advantage.

  I studied everyone as subtly as I could. I didn’t know them well enough to understand which subconscious behaviors indicated lying, but I had a fair idea of who was uncomfortable. I couldn’t figure out Robbie, though. I saw why he chose to wear sunglasses. I’m pretty sure he was watching me, too. I kept my face relatively still, except for a tiny, smug smirk. I’m good at those. Or so Bonnie tells me.

  I played the round confidently but reserved. Near the end, only Robbie and I were left. For some reason I was glad it was the two of us facing off, and I let it show, just a little. He kept his chips in tidy, symmetrical stacks. I called his two and raised him ten, knocking over my own stack. I stared into his sunglasses. He backed down. I showed my cards and half the table swore. Marc was offended that I lied about my hand. I restrained myself from making fun of him openly.

  I had three tens the next hand, and played it the same way. Raj thought I was bluffing and raised the stakes substantially. Before calling his bet, I stared at him. I did my best to smolder, but Bonnie has never told me I’m good at that. I wanted to see how Raj would react. He didn’t do much, but Holly blushed. I won that hand too.

  I dropped out early in the next ha
nd, just to keep things interesting. I wanted the chance to observe Robbie without him observing me back. He won with a pair of twos. By now, Marc was pissed. He knocked over a Coke on Robbie’s lap, possibly on purpose. I thought Robbie would run to the washroom, but he stuck it out. I learned that Robbie breathes tightly and rubs his thumb and index finger together when he’s really uncomfortable.

  I tried to match Robbie’s discomfort on the next round. I played everything slightly slower, as if trying to make up my mind. I tucked my hair behind my ears several times and rubbed my thumb and index finger together. I didn’t know if Robbie would unconsciously pick up on that, but why not try? He didn’t back out, but he didn’t raise the bet, either. I also teased Marc about his relative lack of clothing, asking if he was trying to build a fan base for himself by targeting a specific demographic. He kept getting angrier. After some deliberate deliberation on my part, I threw all my chips in. Raj, Holly, and Chaunt’Elle backed out, but Marc and Robbie went all in, too. I had a full house.

  Marc had four queens. I swore, but I don’t remember if I swore out loud. Marc just laughed insanely—​the release after a long buildup. I didn’t want to look at Robbie, but I did anyway. I think we realized at the same time that Marc had been playing with us all along.

  Marc won the whole thing, of course.

  Damn.

  SunApr10

  Last night I was scrambling for another excuse not to go to church with Carol and the parents when Jenna randomly saved me with a text, asking if I wanted to go for coffee. She had messaged me once or twice in the last month, but I didn’t know how to keep the conversation going, beyond answering her questions. She’s easier to talk to in person. We talked about her summer plans (now that she’s pretty much done with her first year at U of C), which apparently involve staying in Calgary. She was quite interested in how the show was going, so I said she could come over for the afternoon and meet the gang. Which I thought was a good move on my part, because college-age people (like me, wink wink) know other college-age people. I’m pretty sure no one suspects anything so far, but I might as well play it up.

  JS

  You have to fill out paperwork before you can spend time at the house. Do you want me to let Alexander know you’re coming?

  JENNA

  It’s all right. I’ll text him myself.

  I was kind of looking forward to showing Jenna around the place. Bonnie never wants to come over. She says she prefers life on the other side of the screen.

  JS

  The house isn’t too far from here. It’s just—​

  JENNA

  I know. I live down the street from you.

  I did not know that.

  Jenna didn’t wait for me to lead the way up the front walk. She didn’t bother ringing the doorbell, either. She just let herself in. I like how she does that. When I used to babysit for different neighbors, back when I was too young to realize that kids are the worst, I’d always triple-check the address and hesitate on the porch before ringing the doorbell.

  Raj, Holly, and Robbie were studying in the living room.

  JS

  Hey, guys. This is Jenna. Jenna, this is Raj, Holly, and Robbie.

  They looked at her. Then at me.

  JS

  Jenna is . . . a friend.

  We weren’t exactly friends. But “acquaintance” sounded lame. But hey, she’s the one who invited me for coffee. Holly looked hesitantly at Raj, who smiled. Robbie looked like he was waiting for us to leave so he could get back to reading. Jenna looked amused by the moment of awkwardness. Playing host is still a new experience for me.

  JS

  Jenna and I went to the same school. High school. Last year. Jenna’s going to university for—​

  HOLLY

  Uh, Jane?

  I was kind of surprised Holly interrupted me. I didn’t know she had it in her.

  JS

  Yeah?

  HOLLY

  We . . . know.

  ROBBIE

  That’s Alexander’s sister.

  JS

  Uh.

  Stupid Robbie. Stealing my words again. Raj laughed. Holly looked uncomfortable. Maybe she was empathizing.

  JENNA

  It’s true.

  Well.

  JS

  Uh. Right. You . . . want a beer or something?

  JENNA

  It’s not even noon.

  JS

  Ah.

  JENNA

  Besides, aren’t you a little young to be drinking?

  She said it so casually, but the truth made my cheeks hot. I’m not some high school kid anymore. I have every right to be here. Don’t I?

  ROBBIE

  She’s eighteen. She’s legal.

  JS

  (Thank you!)

  Yup.

  Jenna just snorted delicately—​how is that even possible?—​and left the living room. I followed.

  JENNA

  I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable back there. I was over last week and met Holly and Raj. I think Alexander said you were at work. But I thought you knew.

  JS

  Uh, nope.

  JENNA

  I guess we still have a lot to learn about each other.

  I nodded, not sure what she meant. I didn’t have time to ask before we found Marc in the kitchen, half naked, drinking from the milk carton.

  JS

  Where’d your shirt go, Marc?

  MARC

  Oh, I didn’t know you had company, Sinner.

  JS

  Ugh. This is Jenna. Stop violating her with your eyebrows. You’re probably twice her age.

  MARC

  Hardly! Besides, I’m young at heart, babe. Nice to meet you, Jenna.

  Marc took a swig of milk and extended his hand. To my surprise, Jenna shook it.

  MARC

  Will we be seeing you around, Jenna?

  JENNA

  Probably.

  JS

  Is that my milk you’re drinking?!

  MARC

  Uh . . .

  JS

  You are actually the worst.

  He took another swig.

  MARC

  Sorry, Sinner, but I’m pretty serious about my calcium intake.

  Jenna laughed. And somehow I was okay again.

  MonApr11

  We found another note in the kitchen today.

  Sorry, just wanted to say that maybe the way the dishes are left in the sink isn’t so great. Maybe we could all spend another 10 minutes when we’re making supper to clean up after ourselves. Thanks! :)

  Someone (Raj, I think) made this addition in thick, purple letters:

  dishes aren’t cleaned and are left in sink; dishes can’t be cleaned because sink is full

  maybe, if we all work together, we can overcome the vicious positive feedback loop of uncleanliness. thanks! :) :) :) :) :) :)

  to which Holly replied:

  passive-aggressive notes are left on whiteboard b/c dishes aren’t cleaned; dishes aren’t cleaned b/c passive-aggressive notes are left on whiteboard. vicious positive feedback loops FTW.

  Chaunt’Elle was leaving the house just as I walked in, so I haven’t had the chance for a lil’ chat yet. Maybe we could have a house meeting. What am I saying? The first voting ceremony is tomorrow. Same thing. I just hope my ally stops being obnoxious long enough to vote the other three out.

  I didn’t wait up for Marc the past few nights because I’ve felt like sleeping at midnight. Tonight I made up for it. Around eleven forty I snuck outside with my laptop and waited underneath Marc’s bedroom window. His light was on, so I threw rocks at the window and hid around the corner of the house. I was trying to set him on edge. The things I do for research. I watched my video feed, and sure enough, he came into the kitchen just after twelve. I stood at the front door, and as soon as he opened the mini-fridge I rapidly rang the doorbell three times. If I woke up anyone, I’m sorry. Marc spun around and even without the au
dio I could tell he swore loudly. He walked out of the kitchen, and I swore too as I shut my laptop and nearly tripped over myself running behind the house. Marc opened the door and shouted, “Fucking kids!” into the night air. I crouched by the back door and shook with adrenaline or amusement, I couldn’t tell which. I let myself in ten minutes later. I wonder how long I’ll have to keep this up before he flinches at the sound of the mini-fridge opening. I hope Alexander Park is enjoying this. I think he is.