Game of Fear

by Kabongo, Glede Browne

  “You can’t do this.” My voice gets louder as my panic mounts. I pace the room. The girls follow the conversation from the sofa, disbelief in their eyes.

  “I wasn’t the one snorting Adderall, Abbie. Why should you get away with it? How is that fair?”

  I have to get through to her, somehow. “So you want to even the score? Who made you the moral police? Without me propping up your extortion scheme, you have nothing, you hear me. Nothing. You know what, send the picture to the Easter Bunny or whomever. I don’t care. I’ll survive the fallout. I’m that desperate to get rid of you.”

  I hang up on her, and then make my way to the bed where I collapse.

  Frances and Callie join me, looking as if they have grave concerns about my mental state.

  “I’m sorry, Abbie. Are you okay?” Frances asks. “Why did you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Hang up on her. Now, you’re in for it. You don’t know what she’s going to do next.”

  “Maybe you guys should stay away from me for a while until this whole thing blows over.”

  “So you’re just giving up?” Callie asks.

  “I don’t want my friends to become targets. I know you can handle yourselves, but if she sends the photo around, people are going to assume you guys did drugs, too, because we’re close. You have to think about how that could affect the remainder of your time Saint Matthews, and possibly your college plans.”

  “After everything we’ve been through together, do you think we’d let someone do this to us?” Frances asks. “Break up our friendship? We can’t go out like that, Abbie.”

  “She’s right,” Callie says. “We know you said those things to her because you’re frustrated and angry, but you can’t give in.”

  “Sidney’s diary might hold some clues,” I say.

  I let the girls in on Sidney’s other secret, the email I discovered from her psychiatrist, and the struggle with her parents. I don’t give them a chance to dwell on that tidbit for long, though.

  In five months, we’ll go our separate ways. If I’m not careful, the remaining weeks and months will fly by, and I will have missed out on precious moments that could form a lifelong bond between us.

  “How’s your dad, Callie?” I ask. Still not talking to him?”

  She makes a face and mutters a curse word that would make a truck driver blush. “He’s sad that I didn’t make it home for Thanksgiving. He and Mom love me very much; the divorce has nothing to do with me, blah, blah, blah.”

  “You don’t think he misses you?” Frances asks.

  “Sure he does. Like he misses a hole in the head. That’s why I’m getting my own apartment in New York after graduation.”

  Frances and I look at her, troubled by her admission.

  “Callie, you can’t do that,” I say.

  “Why not?”

  “New York is great, but crazy too. At least on a college campus, there’s a community. It’s better than you living all alone.”

  “It will work out,” Callie assures us. “I’ll have easy access to school and the garment district. My dad owns a townhouse in Lenox Hill. I’ll pop by occasionally if I ever start speaking to him again. Mom can come visit me whenever she wants. Plus, the both of you will be on the East Coast, so we’ll still be close to each other.”

  “I’m not a hundred percent sure,” Frances says. “I also applied to Columbia and BU, but I’m picking Northwestern if I get in.”

  “What about you and Trevor?” I ask. The Thanksgiving conversation I overheard comes to the forefront of my mind.

  Frances shrugs. “Trevor and I are realists.”

  “Are you guys okay?” I probe. “I overheard Trevor on the phone with Cole over Thanksgiving, and it sounded serious. He said he’s working on a surprise for you, but I shouldn’t tell you.”

  “I don’t know,” Frances says. “He’s been distracted lately.”

  “You think something is up?” Callie asks.

  “He’s bummed out about his parents. His dad took away most of his credit cards since he’s paying the bills. He also raised the age Trevor can inherit his trust fund from eighteen to twenty-one, and even then he only gets half of it. The remainder kicks in when he turns twenty-five.”

  “What did Trevor do to piss off his father?” Callie asks.

  “He wrecked two sports cars over the summer, and his dad compares him to his brother all the time. He thinks Cole is responsible and ambitious, and Trevor isn’t. He wants Trevor to be more like Cole.”

  “I thought Trevor didn’t want to join the agency,” I say. “I heard him tell Cole he wants to study anthropology, and he definitely won’t be joining Forrester International after college.”

  “Right. That’s the problem. Trevor thinks his dad is punishing him because of that. I told him not to worry.”

  Part Five

  TAINTED LOVE

  CHAPTER 25

  I lumber down the hall on my way to the chapel. In one week, it will be mid-December. The time when high school seniors like me all over the country will get that early action decision email that may or may not change the trajectory of our lives. How will I feel if I don’t get into Princeton? What if The Avenger sent that letter? I can only pretend that possibility doesn’t exist. I feel anxiety coming on, so I shake off the unwanted thoughts and quicken my pace. The chapel is exactly where I need to be right now.

  My eyes are closed, and I let the stillness shower me with calm. It doesn’t take long before I sense a presence, so I open my eyes gradually. Only a few inches separate Sidney from me. Her icy stare throws me off balance for a brief moment.

  She looks tired and scared beneath the veneer of sleek sophistication—the hair, the clothes, the makeup, even her handbag choice is flawless: a black and tan Celine luggage tote, a complete turnaround from our last encounter. I ignore her and close my eyes again. I won’t get upset. I won’t let her disturb my peace.

  “About the incident in the girls’ bathroom,” she begins. “I was having a bad day. You don’t need to go running off at the mouth to your friends about it.”

  I keep my voice steady, “We all have bad days. It’s not a crime, last I heard. Besides, it was none of my business. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “You can’t help it. Being the do-gooder, good girl all the time. Makes me want to barf every time I see you.”

  “How awful for you,” I snap.

  “It’s all an act. You’re the biggest hypocrite at this school.”

  That word again. Hypocrite. It’s been a constant reference with my stalker.

  I stretch out my legs. “Maybe you’re right. But the day your opinion starts to matter to me is the day I ask my parents to send me to the loony bin.”

  “I didn’t come here to start a fight.”

  “Yes, you did. The minute you walked in here and saw me, you wanted a fight. So, bring it on, Sidney.”

  “You think I’ve been a pain up until now? You have no idea what I could do to you.”

  “You have way bigger problems than little old me. You might want to focus on those.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Anyone with eyes can see you’re in a lot of trouble.”

  “Oh, look, Abbie went and got a degree in psychobabble. Where do you get off trying to play shrink with me?”

  “You’re a train wreck in progress. We’re all just waiting for the impact.”

  She did it again. Brought out the worst in me. I should be sympathetic. She’s going through a lot, and, from what I read in her email exchange with her mother, it’s heavy stuff. All my good intentions fly out the window without consulting me when I’m near Sidney.

  “Who do you think you are? You have no right to talk to me like that.”

  “I’ll speak to you any way I please. You started this. What did you think I would do? Who do you think you are?”

  “I can’t wait for you to fall flat on your stupid face at Bedford Hills. I warned you. It won’t l
ast with Christian.”

  “Why do you want Christian so badly? You act as if he’s a toy I stole from you and you want it back. He’s a person. Does he mean anything to you?”

  She glares at me. When she opens her mouth to speak, nothing comes out.

  “I thought so. You just don’t want him with me. Get used to it, Sidney. I’m not going anywhere. Can’t wait for the New Year’s Eve party. If you’re nice to me, I will tell you all about it when I return. In the meantime, try not to die of jealousy.”

  CHAPTER 26

  December 15th—Decision Time

  My cell phone is blowing up. It’s 5:01 p.m. The moment I’m supposed to find out if Princeton accepted me. Christian, Callie, Frances, and Trevor have all texted me, wanting to know the answer. Every high school senior, their family members, and teachers know the email was scheduled to go out at 5:00 o’clock today. I begged my parents not to text or call. I told them I would let them know as soon as I did. I’m home alone, in my room, the way I planned it. It’s time to find out if the number one ranked university the United States (depending on who’s compiling the statistics) has accepted me.

  I see the “decision made” subject line right away when I login to my email account from my laptop. This is not the kind of news I wanted to view on my phone. I open the email and click on the link, not bothering to read the message in the body. It takes me to the login page of the admissions status portal. My mouth goes dry, yet I’m starting to sweat. Adrenaline is pumping through me, and I’m breathing too fast.

  I head to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face. I dry off with a small towel then head back to my task. I type in my username and password and boom; there it is: We regret to inform you…

  I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting at my desk. My legs are numb. My back hurts. I missed three calls from my mom and numerous text messages from my friends. I’m a failure. I couldn’t crack the Princeton code. I’m not used to rejection. How should I handle this?

  “Calm down, Cooper. Breathe. I don’t understand a word you’re saying.”

  My response is to wail even harder. I managed to get Ty on the phone, and when he answered, I burst wide open like a river dam. I can’t control the hiccups, the incoherent words, or the pressure mounting in my chest.

  “Cooper, did something happen? Please, you’re scaring me. What is it? Why are you so upset?”

  The poor guy is about to have a heart attack because he thinks I’m in danger, or something horrible happened. Ty has seen me at my absolute worst. He knows how to pick me up when I fall apart.

  “I didn’t make the cut. I didn’t…I couldn’t. Princeton said no, Ty. The Avenger sent that letter. She wants me to pay for my mistake. She wants me to suffer.”

  “Cooper, listen to me. You can’t lose sight of all your achievements just because one school didn’t admit you. And we don’t know for sure if The Avenger is behind this. She could have been just psyching you out to make sure you dropped off the money. Princeton’s decision may not have anything to do with her at all.”

  I remain silent during his little pep talk, mostly to get my emotions under control.

  “Cooper, are you listening to me?”

  “Yes, I’m listening. I know you’re right. It’s just hard to accept that they didn’t want me.”

  “Admissions decisions aren’t always black and white, Cooper. Many factors come into play, and Princeton knows you’re going to be okay whether they accept you or not. You will get into a top college. When you do, you’ll be glad that Princeton didn’t pick you.”

  “You really think so? Because I thought Princeton was a shoe-in.”

  “You can go to any college you want. That’s a privilege. No use crying over one school when you have so many options ahead of you.”

  I move away from the desk and stretch my cramped legs. Ty put the whole thing into perspective, just as I knew he would. In moments like these, I’m the luckiest girl alive because he’s in my corner. We talk for a while longer, and he makes me promise I won’t get depressed about one setback.

  I deliver the news to my parents over dinner, and they take it almost as badly as I did when I first read the rejection letter. But their disappointment quickly turns to enthusiasm and optimism. All they can talk about is which offer of admittance I will accept of the multiple offers they’re sure will come my way. Soon, the discussion shifts to how much Christmas shopping we all have left to do.

  “That sucks, Abbie,” Frances says. “They’re idiots in that admissions office. You’re like the poster child for the Ivy League.”

  Frances, Callie, and I are chatting via FaceTime. My face is still swollen from all that crying I did earlier, and the girls wanted to come over right away when they first saw me onscreen. I convinced them I was done being a wreck over Princeton.

  “It’s their prerogative,” I say. “At least it’s over with, and I can focus on what’s ahead.”

  “I wonder if The Avenger had anything to do with this,” Callie says.

  “The thought crossed my mind. But if this is all her doing, she would have called to brag about it,” I reason.

  “You could be right,” Frances says. “But there’s still the possibility that she could have sent that photo to Princeton.”

  “If that’s true, then my life is about to explode.”

  CHAPTER 27

  Two days after Christmas, Christian loads my luggage into the back of his silver Maserati. I told him he didn’t need to come back for me, that I would take a flight out to Dulles Airport where he could pick me up. Did he listen? No. I can’t get mad at him, though. He likes spoiling me. The gorgeous Hermès Kelly handbag he got me for Christmas is the latest example.

  “How’s your dad?” he asks. We’re zooming down the Mass Turnpike. Our flight is scheduled to take off at 12:30 p.m., so we should have plenty of time.

  “Fighting the inevitable. Me growing up.”

  “What does he think I’m going to do to you?”

  “It’s not about you. He has a hard time letting go. I’ve never been away without my family before, except for the church youth group visit to Haiti, and travel for our school’s Global Citizenship Program. I can say with confidence that my brother won’t have to deal with my dad’s overprotective behavior.”

  “Girls are different.”

  “Different how?”

  “Delicate. I understand why your dad is freaking out.”

  “What?” I turn to him like he’s suddenly sprouted horns.

  “You’ve lived a sheltered life, babe. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. The stuff your parents taught you, that’s your parachute. Now, it’s about to be tested, and that scares your dad. He’s worried it might malfunction, and you could get hurt.”

  “Wow. I had no idea you were this deep. You should consider majoring in philosophy instead of business.”

  He chuckles and squeezes my hand. “You’re rubbing off on me. I think my IQ jumped twenty points since I started dating you.”

  “Imagine how much smarter you would be if we got together sooner.”

  “I tried. You avoided me like road kill. I had serious self-esteem issues because of you.”

  “You deserved it,” I say, play punching him in the arm.

  “What about now? Do I still deserve it?”

  “When you first came to Saint Matthews, I thought you were just like all the others running around our school. Nothing I hadn’t seen a million times before. Then I heard all the rumors, your reputation with girls, and that made me despise you even more.”

  His hands stiffen on the steering wheel.

  “Then, everything changed. I didn’t understand what was happening to me. My head gave me all the reasons I should stay away from you. Yet, it made me happy when you would show up at my locker. I couldn’t let you know that, so it was easier to pretend I still hated you. I was so mad at myself.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I wasn’t supposed to like you or think about
what you were doing before I fell asleep at night. Agonize over whether you were with someone. I wasn’t supposed to be jealous and want to carve her eyeballs out with a knife, whoever she was.”

  There. I said it. The last of my barriers just came tumbling down. I want to stop the car, get out and run until I’m too tired to think straight. But I can’t take back what I said nor do I want to.

  He strokes my arm with his free hand, the other firmly on the steering wheel.

  “My heart beats faster every time I see you. I miss you when you’re not around, the way you smell, how you bite your fingernails without knowing you’re doing it, your laugh when I fall for one of your tricks. I want to share things with you that I’ve never wanted to share with anyone else. Best of all, I like that you’re simple and complicated at the same time, and you don’t apologize for who you are.”

  Just when I think I have him figured out, he surprises me. I bask in his admiration, even though I know our entire relationship could blow up at any minute. I decide to tell him everything once we return from Bedford Hills.

  “I don’t know if I can live up to that portrait you have of me.”

  “You don’t have to. You just do.”

  I look straight ahead and notice we’re exiting the Mass Turnpike and heading toward Route 128.

  “Why are we turning off? We’re going to miss our flight to Dulles.”

  “We’re not.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Relax, babe. It’s going to be fine. I promise.”

  “Okay.”

  Route 128 is known for its gridlock traffic. Around this time of the day, traffic is much more agreeable, although that could change at any moment. I have no idea where we’re going or if we’ll make our flight. I’ll just have to trust him like he asked.

  We take exit 30B, which leads to Hanscom Field, a public use airport in the suburban town of Bedford, also home to Hanscom Air Force Base. We pull up to a tan building. I see airplanes on the ground, close to the building.