“If I win this game of corn hole, you have to answer three questions of my choosing. No matter what I ask, you must answer it.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I hold my breath.
She’s looking at me skeptically, probably weighing what she thinks I might ask her about. I wonder if she’ll agree to this, because she has no idea what I have planned to ask her.
“Alright…but if I win, I want the same thing.”
“Well, well, well. It looks like somebody is stepping up to the plate.”
“What can I say? This game playing is getting serious. And I might as well ask for what I want, just in case I do win.”
Huh? “What are you saying? That you haven’t been asking for what you really want?”
“I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”
Oh, this game is so on.
-----
Becca
I practically drag Asher down to the shed where all the lawn games, extra paddles, and life jackets are stored. I really do love playing corn hole. I remember when my parents built our corn hole games. Literally, they made them by hand, boards, saws, and all. My mom even hand sewed the corn bags. I thought my parents were spending too much time and money on some stupid game that only a two-year-old would be amused to play, but my feelings changed after the first game they forced me to play. I was totally hooked. It's been a favorite family game ever since.
The funny thing is, I'm actually pretty bad at it, which is okay by me because it is so much more than just trying to throw a bag into a hole. The social aspect of the game is my favorite part. “Alright, rules of the game.” Asher claps his hands once, then rubs his hands together. “A corn bag in the hole is worth three points. A corn bag resting on the platform is worth one point. Since we are not playing doubles, we will only use one corn hole platform, and pitch from the same direction each time. We will play cancellation scoring. Do you know what that is?”
As if I don’t know what cancellation scoring is. Does he think I’ve been living under a rock? “Duh. It means that if you score six points in a round, and I score nine, only three points are added to my score; your six points cancel out my first six points.”
“Sorry,” he says, glancing away from me, a sly smile creeping onto his face, rubbing the back of his neck. “Anyway. We alternate turns pitching the bag. We’ll alternate who pitches first each round. We play to twenty-one points. Do you agree to these rules?” Asher asks.
“All but one. Instead of alternating who pitches first, I say we follow the official rules, and the person who won the previous round pitches first.”
“Sounds good to me, I guess. But I just have one question.” He pauses for effect. “Do you really know all of the official rules?” he asks, grinning like a cat about to catch the mouse.
“Save your questions for after the game. If you win, that is.”
Jeeze! I don’t know who put a quarter in me, but I feel like I am on fire with the comebacks today! Honestly, I haven’t felt this good in…well, in a very long time.
“Oh I’ll win. Don’t you worry about that. Do you want to rock paper scissors to figure out who pitches first this first round?”
“That’s ok. You pitch first, since it’s your game.”
“Well then, let’s get started!” Asher says, rubbing his hands together. He seems really keen on winning this one. I wonder what kind of questions Asher has in mind to ask me if he wins. A part of me wants to let him win, just to find out. But another part of me is terrified that he’ll win, and he’ll ask questions that I’m not sure I’m willing to answer. I guess all I can do is play my best, and see what happens.
-----
Asher
We seriously have been playing corn hole for almost an hour now. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to play cancellation scoring. I would have had 21 points a long time ago.
“I told you I was terrible at this game. If I could get my bags into the freaking hole, I would have won already!” Becca exclaims. The thing is, though, despite not being able to get her bags actually into the hole, she is excellent at knocking my corn bags off the platform…right along with her own.
However, I can’t complain too much. Becca won’t let me ask her any questions, since that’s what one of us is going to win, but we’ve been having a nice chat while we’ve been playing.
“You’re not terrible. And if you hadn’t noticed, I haven’t won yet either. If you would stop knocking my corn bags off…”
“Like I’m going to let you win so easily,” she spits back, but she has a smile on her face, so I know she’s joking. I think.
I walk over and pick up our corn bags to bring them back to the line we’re pitching from when I hear Becca scream. I whip around, trying to figure out what she’s freaked out about. Pure terror is on her face, but I don’t immediately see anything that would make her so scared.
“What is it Becca? What’s wrong?” But before she can answer me, I hear it. I look down at the ground, and finally spot it. A water snake is slithering towards Becca, and she is frozen where she is standing. “Becca! Move away from it!” But she’s not listening to me. I see the small shovel lying next to the fire pit, the one we use to put sand on top of the hot coals to make sure it is put out. I run over there, grab it, and run towards the snake, turning the shovel sideways so that the sharp edge is up and down. With two quick hacks, I have mostly severed the snake’s head from its body, and I take a deep breath. I look up at Becca, and she is still in the same spot she was when she first saw the snake.
“I…I…I can’t believe you just did that!”
That’s what she’s choosing to focus on right now? “Becca, are you all right? It didn’t bite you or anything before I got back over here, did it?”
She shakes her head. “No. No. I’m fine. But even though it’s already dead, do you think you could get rid of it? I won’t be able to stop thinking about it until it’s out of my sight.”
Oookay. Where on earth am I going to put this thing? “Do you think you’ll be alright if I toss it into the lake? I promise to take it all the way out to the end of the dock, and throw it as far as I can away from shore.”
I notice a silent shudder, but she quietly says, “Alright. I think that would be ok.”
I carefully pick up the snake, using the shovel. I hold it out and away from me as I walk down to the dock. When I get to the end of it, I turn back, facing the cabin, and Becca. I count to three in my head, and send that thing flying, over my right shoulder…and by that thing, I guess I mean the snake and the shovel. I’ll add that to the list of things I need to buy if Becca and I go into town tomorrow.
As I walk back toward the cabin, I keep my eyes on Becca, trying to figure out if she’s really okay, or if she needs to go inside and sit down or something. When I’m about forty feet away from her, she suddenly bursts out laughing. I stop dead. Is she losing her mind?
“Becca?”
She can hardly talk between her bursts of laughter, but she does: “I—you threw—the shovel is in the lake!”
I roll my eyes and start walking towards her again. I can hear her laughing, but I see her shaking. She's not fooling me. That shaking is not laughter shaking. It's full on fear. Something about that snake really got to her and she's using the laughter to convince herself she is okay. When I reach her, I carefully grab her by both shoulders, and point her body towards mine. She stops laughing, but I can tell she’s trying very hard to hold it in, because she’s pinching her lips in between her teeth. “Seriously. Are you going to be alright?” Her body starts shaking with the laughter still stuck inside her, but she still hasn’t answered me, so I move my hands from her shoulders to both sides of her face. She immediately stops shaking and gasps. “Becca, I need you to tell me, out loud, that you’re okay.”
She slowly moves her right hand to cover my left. When she finally speaks, it’s hardly above a whisper. “I’ll be alright. But do you think you could hold me for a minute? I know the snake is gone, but
I’m having trouble convincing the rest of my body.”
My arms move around her so quickly, I’m afraid I might have scared her even more. But she just rests the side of her face against my chest, eyes closed, taking a deep breath. After a few moments, Becca cautiously moves her arms around my waist and hugs me.
I can’t help myself, even if she is awake and will know I did it this time. I lean my face toward the crown of her head, and press my lips to her hair. She doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t say or do anything. She just continues to hug me, and let me hold her.
I don’t know how long we stand here like this, but out of nowhere we hear a wolf whistle. Becca gasps, and lets go of me, but she doesn’t pull away. I look back toward the water, and there are our families, climbing out of the boat onto the dock. I hadn’t even heard the motor when they pulled up to the dock. Neither did Becca, if her reaction was any indication. I turn, shifting so I have one arm behind Becca’s back, and my other arm free.
Trying to make this situation seem a little less awkward, I ask, “Did you catch us some dinner? Or are we going to have to find something in the fridge?”
Our parents all laugh, “Who do you think you’re talking to?” my dad asks. “I caught enough fish for two meals!”
When Olivia jumps out of the boat, she races across the beach, up the yard, and right up to Becca. “Can I talk to you for a minute, Becca? Inside?”
“Sure, Livvie, I’ll be right in.” I remove my arm from Becca’s shoulders so she can follow her sister, but before she walks inside, she stands up on her tiptoes, her hand on my shoulder to help hold her up, and whispers in my ear, “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that our game isn’t finished. I still want to win…and, thank you.”
Well, if killing snakes can’t even keep her mind from forgetting she wants me to answer some questions for her, maybe I should just let her win. I mean, how bad could they be?
Chapter Nine
Becca
As I walk back inside the cabin, I can’t help but wonder what our parents think is going on after coming home, seeing us holding each other like that. It felt so nice…Asher, with his arms around me. And he even kissed my hair. But what does that mean to him? And should I be letting this happen?
Olivia pulls me out of my reverie by grabbing my arm and pulling me into the bunk room. She slams the door behind us. “What on earth, Livvie?”
“Are you and Asher, like, together?”
Um, I don’t really have an answer to that question. I decide to go with what feels somewhat close to the truth. “No, why?”
“I’m not really sure how to say this. Have you checked your phone at all since we got here?”
I hadn’t thought about my phone since the moment I got into that car with Asher and his parents to come up here. And being at volleyball camp all last week means I spent a total of about thirty minutes yesterday, before we left, to check anything going on with my phone, Facebook, etc. “No, I haven’t. Is there a reason I should have?”
“Well, check your phone first. I don’t want to get involved if I don’t have to.”
“Get involved in what?” But before I can even finish asking my question, Livvie bolts back out the door. What on earth could be such a big deal that I need to check my phone, right now, and that Livvie can’t just say to me?
I pull my phone out of my purse, which is lying on my bed. I hit the power button and nothing happens. Dead. I dig through my duffel bag, searching for my power cord. After finding my phone charger, on the bottom of the bag of course, I plug it in, and have to wait for it to decide it’s alive enough to turn back on.
The home screen finally comes to life and my phone dings that I have a new voicemail. Then a new text message. And another. And another. That’s strange. As the messaging app opens, I see that I have eight new text messages. Seven of those messages…are from Trip. I’m not sure I even want to read them. Next, I open up my Facebook app, since that’s the only social media thing that Livvie and I are both on, wondering if what’s bothering her is on there. The app comes up, and I see that I have 47 notifications. “What the heck is going on?” I'm scrolling through the notifications, and notice that almost all of them are comments on a post on my wall. Since I don't remember posting anything of that kind of worth yesterday, I go to my personal page. Right at the top is a post made by Trip. It says:
So this is why you think you’re too good for me now. Hope you two had fun, because if I get my hands on you...
Below this statement is a screenshot of a check-in from Asher’s profile page. It says:
Getting my sugar rush on! – with Becca Haines at RUSH
This is not happening. No, no, nonono…
-----
Asher
Olivia came out of the cabin like five minutes ago, and Becca still hasn’t come back out. I thought she wanted to finish our game. So, I head into the cabin, deciding to go and find her and see if I can drag her back outside. I call out her name, but she doesn’t answer. I stop in the hallway, between the door to the game room and the door to the bunk room. “Becca?”
Suddenly I hear a sob coming from my right: the bunk room. I walk into the room and find Becca crying, with her arms wrapped around her knees, rocking back and forth on her bed.
I practically run across the room, sit on her bed, then hook one arm under her knees, and wrap the other around her back, lifting her into my lap. I continue to rock with her, shushing her in her ear.
When her sobs have turned into silent tears, I push her hair away from her face and ask, “Becca, what happened?”
She doesn’t say anything, just points to her phone, lying on her pillow. I can’t reach it the way we’re sitting, so I move Becca so she is sitting between my legs, with her back against my chest. I reach across the bed and pick up her phone. When I turn on the screen, it’s on Becca’s Facebook page. I look a little closer, and see that Trip posted on her wall. When I read what he wrote, I see red. “What the hell is going on, Becca? What is he talking about?”
She takes a deep breath and wipes the tears from her eyes with the heels of her hand, then slowly slips the phone away from me. She scrolls the screen down just a little farther, and I can now see a screen shot of my check-in from the candy store yesterday. I didn’t think about the fact that he might see the post, or that he would care for that matter. Am I friends with him on Facebook? If I am, it’s about damn time I removed him. “I am so sorry, Becca. This is my fault. I didn't think about the fact that he might see that post. But it doesn't matter, because nobody should ever talk to you like that. If I get my hands on him—“ Becca silences me by covering my mouth with her hand, while shaking her head no. She starts to turn around in my lap, pushing against my chest, so I scoot further across the bed, putting my back against the wall, with my legs straight in front of me. She puts a knee on either side of my thighs, so she’s still sitting on my lap, but facing me straight on.
“This is not your fault, Asher. I should have blocked him on Facebook when I broke up with him. Of course I immediately changed my relationship status, but I didn’t think to make it so he couldn’t see my stuff anymore. And I certainly haven’t seen any posts from him. Besides, I’ve hardly been on Facebook anyway, since I didn’t want anyone to ask questions. And if I had just been honest with my friends, especially you, that post he made last night probably wouldn’t have happened.”
“What do you mean? What haven’t you been honest with me about?”
Becca sighs, then says, “If I tell you this, you have to promise me that you will not talk to anyone else about this, that you won’t treat me any differently than you do now, and that you will not do anything about it. Only my parents know. Well, and Trip’s parents, I guess. Not even Livvie knows.”
“Becca, if he did something to you, I can’t—“
“Promise. Me. Or I won’t be able to talk to you about this.”
This is freaking me out. I’ve never seen Becca like this. I don’t know if I can keep this pro
mise, because I have no idea what she is about to tell me, but I make it anyway: “Fine. I promise.”
She sets her phone back down on the bed, and I immediately notice that she’s shaking. I grab both of her hands in mine, and hold them to my chest. “What happened, Becca?”
She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and says, “I guess I’d better start at the beginning.” If she has to start at the beginning, that means things were bad a lot longer than I thought they were. “So, Trip started hinting that he liked me some time last September, I think. He seemed so far out of my reach that I didn’t believe him at first. Plus, I was super busy with volleyball and stuff. But he was persistent. He started leaving cute little notes in my locker, and coming to home volleyball games, and when he asked me out on a date a couple weeks later, I couldn’t help but say yes. As you know, once we started dating, officially, Trip asked me to stop hanging out with other guys. At first I thought it was kind of adorable that he was a little jealous, and I was happy that he wanted to spend so much time with me. It made me feel special.
“But that wasn’t all that he wanted me to stop. At first it was little things. Like he would ask me to play hooky from an activity at school to spend the day with him. I thought it was sweet, so sometimes I did. He also kept hinting that he thought my playing banjo was kind of stupid. So, I put it aside. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal at the time. I had plenty of other things to focus on anyway, and I really liked Trip, so I wanted to do what I could to make him happy.”
I already don’t like where this sounds like it’s going, but I don’t say anything as Becca continues. “At Christmas, which I spent with his family, he told me he loved me. And I believed him. He bought me one of the most thoughtful Christmas gifts I’ve ever received. And said all these other nice things about me. And told his family that I was a keeper…it was just all really nice.
Our Song Page 6