Wicked Games

by Olin, Sean

  Finally, it was time for the diplomas to be handed out. The school had done something special this year. Instead of having Mr. Cruz, the gaunt and awkward assistant principal, read people’s names off as they marched across the stage and shook Ms. Robison’s hand, the A/V department had jimmied together a kind of video slide show through which each student could introduce him-or herself from the big screen hung above the stage.

  Joseph Accevedo

  Bethany Adams

  Rebecca Amato

  They said their own names, and sometimes they waved for the camera, or smirked, or in the case of Ranjit Aranjun, otherwise known as Reed, bugged their eyes in inspired goofery.

  Lilah Bell

  There she was, smiling demurely, just the smallest nervous glance off camera to signify her discomfort.

  Paco Bermudez hadn’t bothered to take his sunglasses off for the camera. The Paco on-screen threw some sort of hand sign, and the real Paco walking across the stage below him threw the same sign simultaneously.

  On and on it went.

  Andrew Drucker

  Macalia Finnegan

  Teresa Hernandez

  Carter Moore

  Friends and enemies and people Carter and Lilah and Jules had somehow never noticed the existence of traipsed across the stage and got their diplomas.

  Peter Talbot

  According to the program in Jules’s mother’s hand, there were nine more names before Jules took the stage. Her seat wasn’t the best. She was wedged into one of the back two rows and the man in front of her must have been six-foot-five. As she angled for a better view, and finally slid and climbed over people’s knees out to the aisle, where she could stand and watch, the roll call continued.

  Then it was finally time. Jules strode toward Ms. Robison. Tears of pride welled in her mother’s eyes.

  And on the screen, Jules’s face smiled out at the camera.

  Something was different, though. She didn’t say her name. Instead, she blew a kiss and ran her tongue lewdly across her upper lip. And she wasn’t in front of the same bland, marbled background as everyone else had been. She was in her room—her mom recognized the Book of Mormon poster on her wall.

  This was wrong. Something was wrong. From her place on the stage, Jules didn’t realize it, but her mother could see that this wasn’t right at all, and she grew suddenly very, very afraid.

  The video continued. It didn’t have any sound. Jules stepped back from the camera and it was revealed that she was naked from the waist up except for a black lace bra. She swayed her body seductively, licking her lips. She pointed at the camera and curled her finger as though she was enticing it to move close and kiss her. She shimmied her breasts and ran her finger seductively along her smooth, flat abdomen.

  Carter searched out Lilah. She was eight rows in front of him, and he could barely see the back of her head. For Jules’s sake, he feared what was coming next: the big reveal, the public shaming. He would have stopped it if he could have, but there was nothing he could do but sit there and feel responsible.

  When her name wasn’t announced and the applause didn’t come, Jules looked out at the audience, and it was then that she registered that she was in trouble. All of them—every single person in the room—were staring at the screen above her head. The expressions on their faces told her all she needed to know. Such ugly expressions. Some enthralled, some disgusted, all of them captivated by her humiliation. She glanced at the screen above her head to see herself unlatching the strap of her bra.

  Lilah’s heart tumbled with delirious glee as she watched the scene transpire. She smiled. She couldn’t help it. She grinned like she’d just won a trip around the world.

  It was obvious to everyone, even the people onstage, that this was a cruel hoax of some sort, but no one knew what to do. Ms. Robison was blinking up at the light booth, waving her hands futilely, shouting for Arnold Chan, the hapless sophomore who was still stationed there, to cut the video. “Turn it off! Turn the damn thing off!”

  But it didn’t turn off. The Jules on the screen peeled her bra from her body, and there were her breasts for the whole world to see.

  Jules went from shocked mortification to piercing tears. She felt invaded, assaulted. She felt like her life and everything it had ever contained were crashing down and burying her alive. She was beginning to hyperventilate. She ran. She didn’t even get her diploma; she just ran. Peter Talbot tried to take her arm and console her, but she shoved him away. She ran and ran. If she didn’t get outside soon, she’d suffocate.

  UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

  HarperCollins Publishers

  ..................................................................

  41

  By the time they got the video turned off, chaos had broken out in the auditorium. The parents in the balcony were crushed toward the ledge overhanging the orchestra, shouting in outrage at Ms. Robison, who could think of nothing more effective to do than stare up into the stage lights and call up—in a voice drowned out by the rabble—at Arnold Chan in the booth. Some of the seniors were hooting at the screen, reveling in Jules’s embarrassing exposure. Others seemed to be in shock, disgusted. All of them were out of their assigned seats, searching for friends with whom they could squeal and vocalize their disbelief.

  In the midst of all this, Carter climbed over the aisles, squeezing past his early-alphabet classmates; past Reed and Andy, who wanted him to join them in their witticism competition; and finally, lunging for Lilah, sitting prim in her seat, not speaking to anyone, not even pretending to be surprised by the craziness happening around her.

  He slid down in the empty seat next to her. “What the hell?” he said. “Lilah, what the fuck?”

  She turned in her seat and gazed at him, the delirious smile still frozen on her face. After a beat, her grin widened even farther, and then she giggled—not in a demonic way, no—what was spookiest about her behavior was that she seemed almost innocent, naïve, and gleeful.

  “We’re not gonna do this here,” he said. He grabbed her wrist, maybe a little too roughly, and pulled her to her feet. “You’re coming outside with me. Now.” Then he dragged her through the throng and down the aisle toward the exit, ignoring Ms. Robison’s pleas to the crowd to take their seats again so the ceremony could continue.

  Lilah went willingly. She was getting what she wanted: attention from Carter, if not exactly in the form she’d hoped for. I’ve got him now. At least there’s that. I’ve got him now. Every time the thought went floating through her mind, she’d break into a new bout of giggles, and Carter’s grip on her arm would tighten.

  Outside the theater building, he surveyed the campus—first for Jules, who he couldn’t find, and then for a secluded spot where he could lay into Lilah without being disturbed by the entire senior class and their parents.

  There, at the bottom of the hill, behind the flowering hibiscus bushes that divided the soccer field from the classroom quads. That would do.

  “Where are we going?” asked Lilah.

  Carter told her to shut up. He marched her down the hill, trying to think of what he could possibly say or do that would convince her to accept reality, or at least stop trying to alter it.

  And so, there they were, behind the hibiscus.

  Carter let go of her arm and scowled at her. He was pulsing with rage, too angry for words.

  “She totally deserved it,” said Lilah. “And now everyone knows.”

  “Everyone knows what?” His words were taut and clipped.

  “That she’s not the cool, glamorous actor girl she pretends to be. That she’s a whore and a home wrecker.”

  “No, Lilah. No. She’s not a home wrecker. Look at yourself. You think I wouldn’t have broken up with you regardless?”

  “I don’t know why you’re so angry with me, Carter. I’d think that now that you know what kind of girl Jules really is, you’d understand that it’s not worth throwing what we have away for her.”

&nbs
p; Carter was dumbfounded by the logic Lilah could have possibly followed to come to this conclusion about her actions. “You have to stop this.”

  “I don’t understand why you’re being like this, Carter.”

  He let out a howl of frustration and rage. “Because you’re trying to destroy someone who didn’t do anything to you!”

  “Are you kidding me? She knew you had a girlfriend. Everyone knew. We’re class couple! People shouldn’t go around stealing other people’s boyfriends.”

  “She didn’t cheat on you, Lilah. That was me. You understand? That was me. So why aren’t you taking this shit out on her?”

  “Forever. Remember? You promised me that when you carved our names into the bench on the promenade.”

  It was like she wasn’t even hearing him. Nothing was getting through to her.

  “Things were different back then. And when things got rough, I wanted to help you, Lilah, but I can’t do it anymore. You need professional help.”

  Lilah’s lips quivered with emotion. All the pain in the world seemed to have coalesced in her eyes. Her desperation—her delusion—was alarming.

  “I don’t believe you. We’re going to be together forever. You’ve just forgotten how much you love me.”

  “No, Lilah. I haven’t forgotten anything. It’s over. Nothing you do is going to change that. So stop messing with Jules to get back at me! You know, I could have you thrown in jail.”

  Tentatively, conscious of how volatile his rage was right then, Lilah moved in closer to Carter. She placed a hand on his heart and held it there.

  “You do still love me. It’s in there somewhere. It’s hidden right now, but it’s there. I know it.”

  He swatted her hand away. “You’re delusional, Lilah.”

  “You just need to be reminded,” she said. “Here . . .” She returned her hand to his heart and ran it down his chest. Then she unzipped his graduation gown.

  “Stop it,” Carter said.

  But she didn’t stop it. She was fumbling with his belt now.

  He tried to push her off of him, but she had his belt unbuckled and she was on her knees, working on his zipper.

  She gazed up at him. Tears were welling in her eyes. “I bet Jules wouldn’t do this for you, would she?” she said.

  People were beginning to exit the theater building now. A trickle at first, the VIPs who’d processed down the aisle. They congregated outside the door waiting to shake the hands of the seniors and their parents. Soon the hill would be clogged with people, stiff cardboard hats would be flying into the sky, discussions about the video of Jules would commence, and Carter and Lilah would still be here hiding behind the hibiscus, exacerbating an already bad situation.

  Before Lilah could go any further, Carter pushed her off him and yanked himself away, rezipping his zipper, rebuckling his belt. “I said stop it. I. Do. Not. Love. You.”

  She was stunned for a moment. It was like he’d hit her.

  Then she lashed back. She went at him, slapping and scratching and hitting and bawling.

  Carter wrapped her up in his arms, restraining her.

  People were looking now, glancing in their direction.

  “Get your shit together now, Lilah, and admit that you were behind all this,” said Carter. “Come on. I’ll take you myself.”

  Keeping her caged in his arms, he jostled her, trying to turn her around and begin marching her toward the theater building.

  Lilah flung her elbows, tried to punch him in the gut. That he’d sell her out like this boggled her mind. She’d kill him if she could—at least then he couldn’t go and love someone else. But his hold was strong. She couldn’t budge inside it. She tried kicking at his shins, but he held his ground. She had only one weapon available to her, and so she used it. She bit him. She grabbed him between her teeth, took hold of him in the spot where his shoulder met his neck, his trapezius muscle, right above his jugular. She clamped his skin, his muscle inside her jaw. She dug deep. She broke skin. She was willing to take a part of him with her if that’s what was needed.

  “Jesus, fuck, Lilah!”

  He shoved her away from him with all his might. She stumbled. She fell. And she stayed down, curled in a ball, silently sobbing.

  At this point, there wasn’t an ounce of sympathy he had left for her, and part of him felt guilty for it. But another part of him wanted to leave her there like that. However, with everyone looking, that seemed like a bad idea, so he went through the motions of seeing if she was okay, leaning in, reaching out to help her up.

  And when he was close enough to touch, she pounced. She shoved him back. She was strong. She was a swimmer, a lifeguard. There was power in her arms.

  Carter reeled back, his feet churning as he tried to keep his balance.

  The particular path on which he traveled took him toward the hibiscus at a diagonal angle. The bushes were bedded in a landscaped row and the soil beneath them had been replaced with wood chips. There was a small divot, a moat where the grass gave way to these chips, and in this moat, there lived a family of voles. They’d dug their tunnels. They’d shoveled the dirt away in places so that they’d have entrances and exits to their homes. They’d created holes in the earth and one of these holes happened to be in the path along which Carter stumbled.

  His foot caught and twisted.

  He felt a sharp pain.

  And as Lilah fled the scene, sobbing hysterically, he went down with the feeling that something was broken.

  UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

  HarperCollins Publishers

  ..................................................................

  42

  An hour later, Carter was in the emergency room at St. Francis Hospital, getting his foot X-rayed and having a bright blue cast put on the broken ankle the doctors discovered under the skin.

  An hour after that, he was at home, lolling around the living room with his leg elevated, watching old episodes of Futurama on Comedy Central.

  One thing was for sure. He knew—he just knew—that he would never talk to Lilah ever again. He’d stay away from her part of the beach, stick close to Jeff and the guys. His presence in her life would just cause her more problems. He hoped she would get the professional help she needed.

  But what about Jules? He wished there was some way to protect Jules, too.

  And then it occurred to him: Fuck. UPenn. Four more years of this shit from Lilah.

  He’d requested that he and Lilah be put in the same section for the August orientation weekend. That would have to change. Immediately.

  He hobbled as quickly as he could down the hall to his bedroom, and rifled through the folder he’d filled with all the correspondence and brochures and admittance materials he’d received until he found the orientation contact number.

  He punched in the numbers and was routed to an electronic greeting system. Once he’d followed the prompts through enough corridors, he was put on hold for a live person. As he waited for the admissions officer to get to him, he could feel the rage that had raced through him earlier that day surge back into his blood.

  “University of Pennsylvania Admissions Office, Kelly speaking. How may I help you?”

  “Hi, my name is Carter Moore. I’m wondering if I can maybe change orientation sections.”

  “Well, you realize they’re all pretty much the same, right? Is there something specific you’re concerned about?”

  Carter explained his predicament. He knew he sounded crazy, that this wasn’t really the school’s problem. But Kelly in admissions was respectful and courteous. “Well, let’s see,” she said. He could hear her fingers clacking at the keyboard. “Lilah Bell. Hmm.”

  He felt like he needed to apologize for bothering her. “You can’t do it, right. I’m just going to have to deal.”

  “Carter, do you and Lilah still talk at all?”

  “Sort of. I mean, she broke my ankle yesterday, if that’s what you mean by talk.”

  Kelly
in admissions didn’t laugh at this, thankfully. “You won’t have to worry about that sort of thing here,” she said. “Lilah Bell isn’t going to UPenn.”

  “She is, though. Can you check again?”

  “I’m looking at it right here. Lilah Bell. Dream Point, Florida. I’m not supposed to tell you this, but here’s what it says. Wait-listed, February nineteenth, and then denied, April eighth.”

  Confused, Carter at first refused to believe what he was hearing. “That can’t be right,” he said. “She told me she got in. We celebrated together.”

  “I think maybe you’ve been misinformed,” said Kelly in admissions.

  Then the reality caught up with him. He’d never actually seen Lilah’s acceptance letter. In a flash, he saw the anxious panic she must have felt when she found out she had been wait-listed. Here was an explanation for the nervousness, the defensiveness, the unending arguments they’d been having back in February and March. She’d been terrified. She’d been staring at the end of their relationship long before the possibility had crossed his mind, and that must have pushed her over the edge.

  Still, did that excuse anything that she’d done over the past few months? Did that give her the right to terrorize Jules and attack him when he told her enough was enough?

  “I see,” he said. “Well, I guess that’s all.”

  “Wait, since I have you on the phone,” said Kelly in Admissions. “Your friend Lilah Bell is . . .” The professional tones in her voice cracked and a new emotional velocity entered her speech. “We all know Lilah and we’re not very happy with her. I personally have had about twenty conversations with her. And they’re not fun conversations. She calls us up virtually every single day and curses us out for having rejected her. She’s writing letters to President Hassinger, trying to get us all fired. I mean, it’s not going to work, but . . .”