by Robin Roseau
She giggled. “You may call me that if you want.”
“I might,” I said. “I could have sworn you were straight. You’ve been on dates.”
“No, but I’m not out to my parents, and sometimes they set me up with dates. I go, but I make sure the guy isn’t interested in me. A few have been persistent, but usually that’s easier than anything else.”
She still hadn’t let go of me, arms or legs, and I became increasingly aware. “Nan.”
“You feel so good,” she said. “I could never let someone do to me what they did to you.”
I unwrapped slowly, and so did she, until we were looking into each other’s eyes. I didn’t know what to say. She smiled. “They’re fucking with you big time. Do you know why?”
“No,” I said. “I. Um. You said they were messing with you, too.”
“Well, like I said, I never would have been brave enough to do any of this,” she explained. She cupped my cheek. I set my hand over hers, and we stared at each other.
“If you ever ask me out, I’ll say ‘yes’,” I told her. “But I think you were lying when you said you’ve tried to get my attention at work.”
“You’re right,” she admitted. She looked down, but that left her staring at my chest. She smiled then looked back up. “If I get another chance at you, I intend to take it.”
“Good,” I said.
“Your clothes are there.” She gestured.
And that was it. I stepped away, and we both quietly dressed. I finished first, and I stared at the wall, feeling quite awkward and even more lost. But then Nan stepped up behind me and leaned against my back. “Thank you, Selena.”
I said nothing, and after several heartbeats, she moved away. I heard the door open, but then she paused. “Are you all right?”
“I don’t know.”
The door closed, and then she was standing beside me, one hand on my shoulder. “Look at me.” I hesitated and brushed at a tear before I turned to her. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re never going to ask me out, are you?”
“Right now, all I can think about is owning you, Selena,” she said. “And I bet right now, if I suggested we get you Altered to accept it, you’d say ‘yes’. But you’re not going to be saying that on Monday. And if you did, I’m not sure I want to be the sort of person I could become. Power corrupts. I don’t want to be that person.” She smiled. “Let’s get through this weekend, and see what happens.”
“Nan,” I whispered.
“I’m not offering false hope,” she said. “But am I the first person you’ve thought about this weekend?”
I had to tell her the truth. “No.”
“They’re fucking with you,” she said. “You’re not the only one, but I think they’re doing you worse than anyone else.” She caressed my cheek. “If you still think I’m a hot Asian chick next week, come to my cube and kneel to me.”
I offered a ragged laugh.
“I’m serious,” she said. “Come kneel to me, and if you do, I’ll ask you out. But it’s casual.”
“I’ll casually belong to you?”
“No. We’ll casually date, and maybe, as part of dating, we’ll get you Altered for special events.”
“Your birthday,” I suggested.
“Maybe more often than that. Or if that’s not what you want, we don’t have to. But I’m not ready to come out to my parents, and I may never be ready.”
“I understand.” I smiled. “Could we kiss once more?”
“I think we could.”
And we did.
Chapter Five
There was assigned seating for lunch. I received some teasing, and I heard more from other directions.
I checked my score, and I’d lost more points.
Then there was another athletic event, and I wasn’t presented with the need to sacrifice myself. For the first time in the weekend, I earned points. After that, we all went back to the spa. I didn’t have anyone assigned to me for any special reasons, although I saw some of the other women were. Instead, I showered and sat in the steam room for a while before an Altered Events employee called my name. I received a very pleasant facial and manicure, and then as I lay there afterwards, I zoned out.
* * * *
We had one more event before dinner, another intellectual challenge. We were again divided into teams, and then one person from each team at a time faced off in a simple word game. We were each given the beginning of a phrase, perhaps a Bible verse, a famous quote, something from The Buddha, or what not. From the beginning, we had to complete the phrase and then try to convince people it was the real phrase.
Some of them were obvious; many of them were, actually. My first began with, “The apple…” and I finished simply with, “… doesn’t fall far from the tree.” They all said it was the real phrase, so I didn’t get any points, but they didn’t lose any. But the next one was a quote from Shakespeare. “There are more things in Heaven and Hell.”
I put on an act, frowning. “Um.” Then I smiled. “It’s from Hamlet. There are more things in Heaven and Hell, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” I smiled and brushed my fingers against my chest. “We did Hamlet my senior year in high school. I played the lead role.”
“Bullshit,” Oleta whispered. She and Jackie accused me of making it up. Mary said I was right. I got three points, one for the right answer and one for each accusation of getting it wrong. I was using misdirection.
“No way did you play Hamlet,” Oleta accused.
“All-girls high school,” I said with a grin. “My mom made me do theater and speech. She said it would be good for me.” That was a bald-faced lie. I wouldn’t have gone near either of them. But I understood the game, and psyching people out was part of it.
For my part, I was running about 60-40, guessing correctly slightly more than not.
For my next turn, I frowned, then sighed. “I hate this guy. It’s Deepak Chopra. The wind is the whisper of god, speaking to our souls. I’m sorry. I don’t have a clue what it’s supposed to mean, but it was on one of those inspirational posters an ex- used to have.”
I got two points for convincing people I was telling the truth. Joy said, “Natasha, you voted for lying. Why?”
“It’s from a John Denver song,” she said. “Okay, maybe Deepak Chopra said something like that, but the line is ‘The wind is the whisper of our mother, the Earth’.”
Two turns later, I smiled. “Another quote from Shakespeare, also from Hamlet. This is from Act One, Scene Five. Hamlet’s father appears as a ghost and explains how Hamlet’s uncle has murdered him. He’s asking Hamlet for his vengeance. But dawn comes, and the ghost can’t stay past dawn. He says, ‘Soft! What light through yonder window breaks.’ And then he disappears. Fancy productions do cute lighting tricks, but our ghost fled from the stage like a vampire from the sun.”
And I was lying through my teeth. Oh, the quote was right, but it’s from Romeo and Juliet. My opponents for this round eyed me, and then they placed their votes.
And then the voice spoke to me. “Do you care to double down on your answer?”
“What do you mean?” I asked as quietly as I could.
“Do you know whether you’re right or not?”
“The lead actor says, ‘It is the east. Arise, fair sun.’ Yes, I know.”
“Can you convince them you played the lead?”
“What’s in it for me?”
“Tara is struggling,” said the voice. “If you play my game, I’ll let you coach her. In return, we get to mess with you a little, or more than a little if you don’t convince them.”
“Two out of three of them?”
“Convince all, and we only mess with you a little. Don’t convince any, and you won’t know what’s real.”
I thought about it. “All right. Agreed.”
“Selena,” Evie asked for all of them, “Did you lie?”
I smiled. “Right line, but wrong play. It’s from Romeo and Juliet,
probably the third-most famous line from the entire play, after Romeo, Romeo, and A rose by any other name.”
“Yes!” Hazel said. “I was sure it wasn’t Hamlet.”
“It’s the right line though,” Mary complained. “Do I lose a point?”
“Yes,” Evie said. “Selena, do you know the rest?”
I laughed. “Of course I do. Soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief, that thou, her maid, art far more fair than she. He’s talking about how Juliet is his sun, and more fair than the moon. It’s a dozen or so lines later that Juliet says her line, Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art though, Romeo? And another half dozen lines before she says, What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” I smiled broadly. “Winter term, freshman year in college. The artistic director was a feminist, and she directed Romeo and Juliet but gender-switched all the roles. She was kind of an idiot. She completely miscast the guy who played Juliet. He was a big, burly guy, and all my lines were about how fair he was. It turned into a comedy, which kind of sucked, as it’s an iconic role, and I would have loved it with different casting.”
There were two leads in Romeo and Juliet, after all.
“Wait,” Evie said. “You were Romeo?”
“Yep. We had to get an electronic copy of the play and change the lines. I tried learning them from a regular script, but I kept screwing up and saying she when I was supposed to say he.”
“All right,” Evie said. “You three get another chance. Is the original line really from Romeo and Juliet, and did Selena really play Romeo?”
The three stared at me. And stared, and stared. Mary kept counting points off on her fingers. Hazel had her eyes narrowed at me, but then Ria said, “Fuck if I can tell,” and voted.
Mary voted. Hazel finally asked, “We’re voting on how much?”
“Two votes. Were the lines she quoted accurate, and did she once play Romeo.”
Hazel pointed a finger at me. “I’ve never seen Romeo and Juliet.”
“Bummer,” I replied.
“Either you’re telling the truth, or you’re lying out of your ass,” she said. “The only way someone would remember all those lines was if she’d performed the play. If the lines are right, then you were probably in the play.” She looked me up and down. “No offense, Selena. You’re okay, but no one has ever cast you as the ingénue, so you didn’t play Juliet, and I don’t believe this story about gender switching the roles. She’s lying, and she made up the lines. You’re very convincing, however.”
At that, Mary swore. “Damn it. I didn’t think of any of that. I said yes to the lines but no to the role.”
“Well, shit,” Ria said. “I said Yes to both.”
“May I try to convince them to change their answers?” I asked very quietly.
“Tripling down?” asked the voice. “Sure. Convince Mary and Hazel to change their minds, and we’ll let you pick who owns you during dinner. If you don’t change either of them, we’ll give you to Ida until morning.”
“And if I only convince one?”
“Then no change.”
“All right. Agreed.” I smiled. “Evie, did I get the lines right?”
“You did,” she said.
“Yes!” said Ria.
Mary cocked her head, and then Hazel’s lips moved. I decided the voice was talking to both of them. “What are you telling them? It’s not fair if you’re meddling.”
“I made offers if they get it right. Are you done convincing them?”
“No. Hazel, you’re right.” And then I told a portion of the truth. “The reason I know the lines was because my big sister was an actress. When we were younger, she’d make me play actress with her, and we’d read the lines. We were both terrible. Once she was in high school, though, I would help her study her lines. She played Ophelia in high school, and she directed and played Juliet for her senior project in college.” I shifted in my seat and looked away. “Um. The director cast some guy for Romeo, and by then I wasn’t having to help her very much, but dork-face – that’s what she called him – refused to run lines with her, so she begged me to come stay with her for a few weekends to help her. I ended up reading lines with her and half the rest of the cast. I wouldn’t have done it, but she let me drive her car back and forth, and during the week, I got to take it to school. I was a senior, and skipping the bus for a month was totally awesome.” Then I looked away once more before dropping my gaze and staring at the floor. Then I snapped my eyes up and tried to meet Ria’s gaze. I smiled.
“Fuck,” she said. “Just… Fuck.”
“Did they make an offer to you?” I asked.
She inclined her head. “You?”
“Oh, yeah. It’s complicated. Yours?”
“Not complicated, but I’m not going to tell you.”
“Chicken,” I said. “How about you, Mary?”
“I don’t want to say,” she said. Her eyes flicked left, but I didn’t know what that meant. “Damn it. I lost track of what you want us to believe.”
“Either she lied the first time,” Hazel said. “And she lost points because we didn’t believe her. And she’s trying to convince us she was telling the truth. Or she told the truth the first time, and now she’s trying to convince us she was lying.” She gestured to me. “And either you’re a terrible liar, or you were trying to convince us you were just lying.”
“Or she was being incredibly obvious so we’d think she was trying to convince us she’s lying when she wasn’t,” Mary said. “Good luck thinking your way around that.”
“Is it horrible if you get it wrong?” I asked.
“Yes.” She batted her eyes at me.
I laughed. “Want a hint?”
“Sure.”
“I was lying during at least one of the stories. But you’re also not considering something else.”
“Oh?”
“Evie might have lied, and I might have pulled those lines out of my ass.” There were laughs, and I realized people were paying deep attention to us. “Did it even sound like Shakespeare?”
“Fuck!” Hazel said.
“You say that a lot.”
“Only when the situation calls for it.”
“You’re messing with us,” she said. “Was either of your stories true? What happens if the story was half true?”
“Half true?” Evie asked.
“Yeah. She played Romeo, but it was an all-female cast, or something like that?”
“The questions are whether the lines were right, and whether she played Romeo in some sort of real production with a paying audience.”
“Um.”
“Excuse me?” Evie said.
“Not once did I mention money.”
“Oh,” she said. “So you didn’t. But it wasn’t a backyard performance from when you were twelve.”
“Definitely not,” I said. “A real performance, or that’s my story.”
“Why wouldn’t there have been money, if it was a school play?” Hazel asked. “My niece is in shows. They’re pretty shitty shows, but it’s still ten bucks. I go to support the drama program at her high school.”
“Um. Shakespeare in the Park, sort of.”
“Now she’s lying,” Hazel said. “You know what? I’m not going to outguess you. Sure, you played Romeo.”
“Mary?” I asked.
“You don’t have a single photo of your family on your desk,” she said. “You never take phone calls from them, not at work. Twice since I’ve met you, you’ve said you were going home for a holiday, but you normally go somewhere else. Mexico, Jamaica, a cruise, and not necessarily right on the holiday. I don’t think you’re that close to your family, and I don’t even know if you have a big sister. That story is the lie, and you played Romeo.”
“One more round?” The voice asked.
“Sure,” I whispered.
“C
onvince all three of them the reason you don’t talk about your parents is because your sister is in the military, and your parents are shitty about your orientation.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want them believing that about my mom. She’s always been supportive, and I don’t want any doubt. Why do you care, anyway? Isn’t it someone else’s turn?”
“I care,” she answered.
“Explain it to me.”
“Briefly. You realize that you are not our client.”
“Tara is.”
“Technically, RealSoft is, as represented by Tara. RealSoft approached us with a significant problem and asked if we could fix it.”
“Can you?”
“We’ll see,” she replied. “But at the same time, we live off positive reviews. Right now, I have side wagers going with most of the women here.”
“Over me?”
“Yes. Understand that some people love to watch someone else in an embarrassing situation, and some of the people want me to help you dig a deeper hole for yourself.”
“Nice,” I said.
“Others don’t typically care for the spotlight, but when we eliminate about half their inhibitions, they end up having a very good time, even when we do things to them they’d never otherwise agree to.”
“Were you just talking about me?”
“You and about a third of the other people here. And then I have a few that are wagering over something else entirely. Everyone has her reasons. We could just give people what they want, but it means more when they have to work for it.”
“I’ll get them to believe something terribly unlikely,” I said. “What am I offered for trying.”
She laughed. “How about a free Alteration.”
“Like, a free weekend?”
“I was thinking about the various agreements you’ve been making,” she replied. “I’ll make one of them happen.”
“My choice?”
“Mine.”
“That’s for playing, win or lose?”
“You have to be convincing. Yes, win or lose.”
“Do I get something more for winning?”
“No, but if you lose, I’ll be using you to satisfy someone else here, and it falls under the category of something you wouldn’t agree to. Care to play?”