Winner Take All

by Laurie Devore

  But I’m a person. Not a pawn to be maneuvered and not a mess to clean up.

  And the truth of the matter is, Jackson knows me. He knows what I care most about in life, and he knows the one thing I would never let him see.

  So I dig my fingernails into my palms until my eyes water, and I let myself live through it. Every ugly thought and broken promise and lie someone’s told me in the past four months. That moment, waiting for the pregnancy test yesterday, when I thought I had finally fucked up bad enough that I’d ruined everything.

  All of it all of it all of it.

  And then I’m crying. Crying until my throat’s raw, until my head hurts. I’m tearing myself apart, outside in for a change.

  It’s a second later before I hear Jackson outside the bathroom, tapping on the door. “Nell, are you okay?” he asks, though he has to hear me wailing. I try to stop, wiping the back of my hand over my mouth. He pushes open the door. “Jesus, shit,” he says, as I reach up to flush the toilet for show and fall back against the cold tile of the bathroom floor, pushing my head against the wall and crossing my arms over my stomach.

  “I thought I was going to be sick,” I lie, my voice thick. “I have been all day and I just … another test? I lost it. Sorry.”

  He takes another step into the bathroom and I see him glance at the counter and then at me. “What are we going to do?” he asks at last, defeat in every line of his body. I can feel my heart pounding. I may actually be sick but that may be worth it.

  My breaths become shallower as I try to rein myself in, but now that I’ve started crying it’s hard to stop. My cheeks feel hot, splotchy, my hair sticking to my neck. I can only imagine how I must look to him.

  Broken. Like he wanted.

  “You mean, what am I going to do, because this doesn’t seem like any of your business.”

  “Look,” he begins. “I know you don’t want me here and I don’t begrudge you that. I am the biggest jackass of all jackasses, which I know only touches on how you feel about me. But I’ll support whatever you want to do, okay? I’m not going to leave you hanging.”

  I laugh bitterly.

  “Nell,” he says, and God, it’s wrong but I love hearing the desperation in his voice.

  “I haven’t decided what I’m going to do yet.” I put my hand over my mouth, pulling myself back together. “I still think I’m going to be sick. Can you go?”

  “I’m worried about what this means. For the future. For both of us.” He tries coming closer, like he might think he’s allowed to be near me again, so I put my hand up.

  “Great. Well, the good news is that you’re a guy,” I say. The more I talk, the more the lines of truth and lie, fiction and reality start to blur. “You can do whatever you want. They’ll say boys will be boys and sweep it under the rug. You can leave, go off to the wonderful future you know you’re destined for with half the work I’ve done. Hell, I’m sure there will be girls who are really attracted to the ‘hot single dad’ thing.” I look toward him, a tear creeping down my face. “I think your future is fine, Jackson.”

  He has the decency to look ashamed.

  I stare back down at my lap.

  “I don’t care about me,” he insists. “But you have everything to lose. Everything you’ve worked your entire life for. And I can’t be the reason behind that. Not when you’re everything you are. To hell with me. What about you?”

  “Don’t play that card with me,” I tell him. “You gave sooooo many fucks about me when you were putting your hands on whatever you could get below the Mason-Dixon for the past month. Don’t even try to pressure me.”

  “I didn’t— Shit, Nell,” he says. “Please don’t cut me out, that’s all I’m saying. Have you even talked to your parents?”

  “Of course not,” I snap at him.

  “I just want to make sure—”

  “I don’t need you,” I tell him.

  “I know, you never needed me, but I—” and apparently he doesn’t know because that’s where he stops.

  “I need space to think. Go,” I say.

  “Can I at least make sure you get in bed before—”

  “You’re not a good person,” I tell him, and he winces, hard, like that hurt. I press my sweaty face into my knee. “And nothing you say is going to change my mind. Leave.”

  I hear him shuffle to the door and then stop. I hope he’s not looking at me. I’m glad I can’t see me.

  “I’m sorry,” he says, and I wait to hear him leave, the echo of the front door closing.

  I’m going to be sick.

  43

  That night, I’m lying on the chaise longue on Columbus’s back deck staring up at the stars painted against the sky. Columbus’s parents aren’t home and he and Lia disappeared twenty minutes ago. Someone’s deep, mournful voice is warbling out from the speakers.

  I stare up at my fingers, tracing the stars one to the next on a clear path.

  The silence is like a buzz all around me. I hear accusations in each call of the crickets.

  Liar.

  Pathetic.

  Loser.

  Sad sad sad.

  They all sing. If I lie here too much longer, I will finally lose my mind.

  I push myself out of the chair and bang down the steps of the deck, walking around the house, springing on my toes to fake movement, tugging at the ends of my hair. Don’t think Nell don’t think Nell don’t think.

  I hear the back door open and blow out a breath. “Nell! You ready?” Lia yells for me. “We’re going.”

  “Over here!” I call out.

  “Lia,” Columbus says behind her, as if he’s the voice of reason. Lia comes stomping down the stairs and Columbus—a foot taller than her—follows behind. “I didn’t mean anything.”

  “I’m calling Taylor to come get us,” Lia says, stopping in front of me. “Wouldn’t want to have my bad blood in Columbus’s car.”

  “You know that’s not what I meant,” he says. “Lia.”

  “I don’t need your holier-than-thou shit!” she spits back, holding her phone in front of her face. “I know what my family is, and I know what yours is. Jesus Christ, pick up your phone, Taylor.” She’s on the verge of tears, and I see the first one escape, shining down her face. I rush over.

  “Lia,” Columbus says calmly. “Lia.”

  “Hey, Columbus doesn’t think your family has bad blood,” I tell her, touching the ends of her hair. She grabs at me and pulls herself into my side, crying quietly against my T-shirt. Columbus watches the two of us as I press my face against her hair.

  “I don’t, Lia,” he says carefully. “I think you’re the best person in all of Cedar Woods.”

  She snorts. “Don’t lie to me, Columbus Proctor.”

  A shadow of a grin plays on his face. “Lia.” He tugs on her shoulder, pulls her away from me. She looks down down down and then looks up at him. “There she is,” he says, smiling. I want to look away. Things like this, they don’t happen. Not to girls like me.

  Just another reminder that I should’ve known better.

  She’s so tiny next to him, like I’d never be. He pushes her hair back, his fingers splayed out across her petite, pale face and then he has to lean down to kiss her, and I don’t know, she’s my best friend. She looks out for me.

  Part of me doesn’t want anyone else to have her.

  “All right.” Lia pulls away. “C’mon, we need to get home.”

  “You got it,” Columbus says.

  I climb into the backseat of Columbus’s extremely nice SUV. He heads out, turning the music up on his stereo, reaching over to grab Lia’s hand across the console. Even though they’re on the same side of the bridge, Columbus’s house is farther from town than Lia’s, almost on the edge of the county. As we drive toward the Reagans’ house, Columbus fishes his phone from his pocket. “Hang on. I’m getting a call.” He turns down the radio, pops in a Bluetooth headset, and answers with a less-than-enthusiastic “What?”

  He
listens and then answers, his jaw tightening. “He did what? Right now? Rivera, I’ve got—” He glances over at me and cuts himself off. “Let me take Lia home first— Seriously? And I’m supposed to drop everything and come now? Y’all should just leave him there. Let his ass get arrested.” A beat. “Fine. Shit.” And then he pulls the headset down from his ear, looking tired.

  “What is it?” I ask, watching him in the front seat.

  “I’ve gotta go get him, Nell. I’m sorry.” And I know exactly who he’s talking about.

  “You aren’t,” Lia breathes.

  Columbus takes a deep breath. “You don’t know what his dad will do to him.”

  I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Lia pulls her hand away from Columbus, clenching it in a tight fist.

  Columbus isn’t driving for long before I figure out we’re headed in the direction of Alston Marcus’s house—of course. It’s a weekend night in Cedar Woods, an event playing on a loop.

  I’ve never even believed Jackson liked parties at Alston Marcus’s house. It was just another place to be, another part to play.

  Fifteen minutes later, Columbus pulls up to the street outside of the house, the yard packed with cars as always. Off to the side, I see shadows holding someone between them. It doesn’t take much to figure out the smaller, lithe frame is Tristan and the bulkier one is Doug. Columbus unbuckles his seat belt, shaking his head as he gets out and goes over to meet them. I watch as Columbus fusses at the other two, then looks down at Jackson like the sad excuse for a human being he is.

  He puts Jackson’s arm around his neck and walks him toward the car, opening up the door and pushing him into the backseat next to me, where he kind of falls sadly forward. Lia looks over her shoulder at him like some sort of offensive stain on the leather.

  “He hit Marcus,” Columbus tells us apologetically. “Someone called the cops. Doug and Tristan can’t drive. He was supposed to be their ride. He’s belligerent again. I couldn’t leave him.” His last words are somber as he looks behind him at the miserable form of a boy who is his best friend because you can’t shut that off.

  Jackson turns his head against his seat, his eyes falling on me, glazing over like he’s not sure if I’m real. “Nell,” he whispers, seemingly finding talking particularly challenging.

  Columbus turns the music up in the front seat, trying to drown out Jackson’s words, but I can practically read his lips, can feel the way my body comes to life when his eyes are on me.

  “Every time I see you, I start counting the minutes between,” he whispers then, so close I find myself leaning in to hear him. I dig my nails into my fist until I feel my pulse in my fingertips. “When I know you’re going to disappear all over again.”

  “Shut the hell up back there,” Columbus says, his voice a warning. “I will drop you off on the side of the road.” He cranks the music up even louder, rattling the windows.

  “You’re supposedly so obsessed with me,” I tell him, and he watches me, as if mesmerized. “But every time I see you, you’re all over another girl.”

  Jackson lies back against his seat, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. Then he turns his head toward me, watching me quietly, not looking away.

  “Stay,” he says. His hand falls open between us. “Please stay.”

  I stare back at him, my eyes welling, the music banging in my ears. “You’re so drunk.” A tear starts to fall and I wipe it away with the pad of my finger before it escapes. “I could be anyone.”

  He curls his fingers up into his palm. “Of course you’re not.”

  Columbus glances behind him when he hears Jackson speaking again, seeing the state we’re in. “Hart, stop!” he yells at him, jerking him away from me. “You’ve got no damn shame, man.”

  Jackson pulls away from me and closer to the door, grabbing up his shirt to rub against his face. He shoves forward onto the middle console, taking Columbus by surprise, and punches the radio knob. Silence devours the pounding music. “Tell her about the girls,” Jackson says to Columbus.

  “I’m not telling her shit,” Columbus replies, the cold cutting through his baritone voice.

  “I didn’t want to have to think anymore, Nell. The last person I want to be alone with is myself.”

  “Columbus, make him stop,” Lia orders.

  “I’m a walking catastrophe,” he goes on. “I’d destroy myself, and my dad, too, Nell, if I could change this. I’d fix it for you and anything else. I want you to do everything you want to do. You deserve that. You don’t deserve what’s happening.”

  “You are destroying yourself,” Columbus says. Then to me: “Nell, I’m so sorry; we’re almost at his house.”

  “I don’t know what to do,” Jackson continues as if no one else is here. “I feel like I’m drowning.”

  “Stop,” I say, because he can’t tell Columbus and Lia about my lie. They don’t know the girl in that version of my life, and she’s too crazy for me to show them.

  “I wish I hated you,” he says.

  I blink. “It’s not so hard.”

  “We’re here,” Columbus says, slamming on the brakes at the end of Jackson’s driveway, refusing to drive up it. He unlocks the doors. “Walk.”

  Jackson opens his door and practically falls out of it, struggling to regain his balance as he moves toward his driveway. I’m doubtful he’s going to make it.

  “Do you think we should help him?” Lia asks, sounding a little concerned.

  I turn away. “No.”

  No one answers that.

  I can feel them, judging me and trying not to judge me, and I hear myself without really thinking about what I’m saying. “I know you both think I should feel bad for him, but his self-destructive streak is just another way he can get what he wants.” I breathe fog onto the back window and draw a heart. “Everyone feels sorry for him because he acts so hurt and he’s a boy, but I keep up my armor to survive, and then I’m the bad guy. It’s never enough for anyone, is it?”

  “No one thinks that,” Lia says, but I hear the lie in her voice.

  Columbus turns his car around in silence and drives us back to Lia’s, giving her a peck on the lips before we get out. Lia walks into the house with me, quiet. Her parents are either not awake or not home when we get there. All I see is the light on in Taylor’s room.

  Lia and I are together in her bathroom brushing our teeth. She spits out her toothpaste and looks at me sideways. “What did you do to Jackson?”

  I pause brushing my teeth, watching her sideways. “What did I do to him?”

  Lia puts her toothbrush back on its stand. “The way he was talking about fixing everything for you and how you didn’t deserve what was happening. What was he talking about?”

  I spit into the sink, too, washing off my toothbrush under the faucet. “He was shithoused!” At the look she’s giving me, I look away, shrugging. “Maybe he grew a conscience.”

  “It felt different than that. He sounded scared. I almost felt bad for him.”

  “Why?” I demand.

  Lia crosses her arms, staring at me in the mirror.

  “So what did you do?” she asks. She’s watching me too carefully and she knows me too well.

  “I did what he does.” I look down. “I looked at the pieces on the table, assessed what I had, and made a move.”

  She puts her hands up, looking like she’s holding something back. “So help me God, do not bullshit me right now, Nell. Did you tell him you were pregnant?” Her voice is so quiet, it feels deadly.

  I don’t meet her eye in the mirror. “I just said I thought I was. I did think I was. That’s it.”

  “And then? You told him you took the test?”

  I shrug.

  She takes a deep breath, reaching her hand up as if to steady herself. Finally she says, “You have completely lost it.”

  “Don’t do that,” I say, though my defense sounds weak to my own ears.

  She turns on me. “How can you look yourself in th
e mirror? This isn’t a game. I don’t even know what to say to you.”

  I keep my face as neutral as possible, but it hurts. Some deep, buried part of me knows she’s right. But the other half needs this—needs to see him brought to his knees once and for all.

  After what I’ve been through, who would ask me to give that up?

  “Why should I tell him the truth?” I ask her. “He never cared enough to tell me the truth about our parents and our whole relationship, but now I have to be a bigger person? It’s not fair that I have to throw in the towel.”

  “I know you don’t think it’s that simple. Just this once, Nell, can you talk to me? Can you please talk to me instead of”—she throws her hands up in front of her—“whatever you’re doing.”

  “He has all the power. He always had all the power because he knew,” I tell her. “He controlled everything about our relationship. He chose me and knew how to play me. It was all fake. It was all fake and I fell for it and he gets off free? He doesn’t lose anything? That’s not the way the world is supposed to work!”

  “Of course that’s the way the world works!” she yells back at me. “Look at this goddamn world we live in! We get twice as much for half the work because we were born into this family. Look at the inflated sense of importance of our family and Jackson’s family in this town. My dad is going to get off on probation and everyone will be surprised but that’s the way the world works when you’re wealthy and you’re white and you’re a man. So of course, Nell. There will always be someone like Jackson to ruin your fucking life and never be punished for it, and if you’re lucky there will always be someone like me to pick up the pieces.”

  “So I just accept it? Because I wasn’t born with money? Or because I’m a girl?”

  She shakes her head and looks away again. “This is going to end with you being humiliated, and then you’re only going to feel worse. Do you know how it would look if all this got out? What everyone would think of you?”

  I do, actually. I finally step outside my pain and look at it. Probably exactly what I’ve been thinking of every other girl who’s gone out with Jackson since I stepped through the door at Cedar Woods.