Four-Letter Word

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Four-Letter Word Page 5

by Christa Desir


  By any means necessary. I let this sink in for a second, puzzling out what that might mean, then I glanced at Holly’s boob shelf. Dread balled up in my stomach, making the too-sugary taste of the Coke I’d just sipped feel like I’d ingested battery acid. A game named after a group famous for torture? Girls against guys, where you win by any means necessary? Crud. I could see exactly how this might play out. As I looked around and saw Eve and Holly’s intrigued faces, it seemed they had figured it out too. And it didn’t seem to be a problem for them.

  “By any means necessary? Is this game for real?” I asked. There was no way anyone could have missed the weirdness in my voice.

  Chloe Donnelly nodded. “Yeah, of course. It’s super fun. I mean, think of all the possibilities.” My stomach twisted and the battery-acid Coke taste hit the back of my throat. I swallowed it down hard. Holy crap. Holy, holy crap.

  “So four girls and four guys each get a whispered letter to a four-letter word the captain picks, right? And you hide or you look for people, trying to get their letters while protecting your own, so you and your team can figure out the other team’s word? And you do that by any means necessary? Like, however you want?” Eve asked, breathy with excitement and curiosity, like she wanted to make sure she got it exactly right. Like we were actually going to play this game.

  “What’s to stop the captain from lying about their word or a team member from lying about their letter?” Holly asked, her head tipped to the side so her dark hair fell forward slightly, not like a curtain but like an ad for conditioner.

  Chloe Donnelly shrugged. “Well, two things. First, the captain writes the word down on a slip of paper and keeps it with them until the end of the game when the other team guesses. And second, there’s an honor code we all agree to. If you’re good enough to get someone else’s letter and not give up your own, we all assume it’s the actual letter. Liars automatically lose.”

  Lose what?

  I shoved a fingernail in my mouth, waiting for Chloe Donnelly to look disgusted or disappointed in me for being obviously anxious about this, but instead, she offered a small smile that felt too much like pity. I dropped my finger.

  “And what’s to keep someone from hurting you to get your letter?” I asked, balling my hands and sliding them under my thighs.

  Chloe Donnelly pointed to Mateo and Josh. “Don’t you trust your friends, Other Chloe? Do you really think these two would hurt you to win a game?”

  I didn’t even need to look at them. I was sure they wouldn’t. But they weren’t the ones I was worried about. Holly’s boyfriend, Cam—the twin—was a walking bad-boy cliché in every sense of the word. He was always in trouble at school for one reason or another. The only time I saw him regularly was either as I was passing the after-school detention classroom or in the parking lot after lunch with his tongue down Holly’s throat.

  When he and his brother, Aiden, were little, they were both really clever and smart. In early elementary Cam would build this incredibly cool stuff all the time. But somehow he gave up on school as if it were impossible to have two smart twins. He acted out in class and never could sit still. In fifth grade Cam decided to run for student council president against his brother and lost, badly. That was sort of the beginning of the end for him, and he became dedicated to being bad. Every year he got in more fights, spent more and more time in the principal’s office. I’d heard rumors he was a dealer now, but that might have just been part of the mystique. Regardless, he was hardly the most trustworthy guy.

  I looked directly at Mateo and said, “I trust my friends. But still . . . a game where you win by any means necessary seems a little sketchy.”

  Eve clapped her hands and said, “No. It sounds like fun.”

  Chloe Donnelly studied me. “You can always hide. It’s not as fun that way and you won’t have the chance to get any of the guys’ letters, but at least you’ll keep your own letter a secret.”

  I nodded, but the knot in my stomach wasn’t going away. A game called Gestapo. Did my friends not listen in world history, about how neo-Nazis were actually a thing? The entire prospect was a giant red flag wrapped around warning bells.

  Holly had her phone out and was madly texting, I assumed to tell Cam about the game. Mateo’s face was thoughtful and guarded, but not exactly skeptical, more resolved or . . . resigned? His dark eyes landed on me for a second, held, and then moved away. I glanced at Josh, whose expression seemed to be full of a million questions. Thank God. He was my only hope of getting out of this, and I silently prayed he’d make everyone realize how badly this might go.

  “So we try to get letters and not give up our own, by any means necessary, but how does that really work? You said we were outside. I mean, are we all hiding in the cornfields and waiting for someone to find us?”

  Chloe Donnelly shook her head and then looked at Holly. “Are Cam and Aiden around?” It was strange how she talked about them as if she already knew them. Eve must have dished out a lot during the manicure last night.

  Holly answered, “Cam’s home. I don’t know about Aiden.”

  Josh said, “He’s home. I’m supposed to do American history review with him after I get off my shift.”

  “And when are you off?”

  “We’re both off at seven tonight,” Josh said, nodding to Mateo.

  Chloe Donnelly grinned. “Perfect. Let’s do pizza and then we’ll head over to Cam’s.”

  “What for?” I asked, even though I was 100 percent sure I knew the answer.

  “It’s too hard to explain the game. It’s easier if you just play. We’ll do a practice round.”

  I glanced at Eve, seeing my own uncertainty reflected back. Finally. We weren’t the type of people who went for things out of our comfort zones. It was what we most had in common. Eve asked questions, but she never acted on her curiosity, and I mostly watched and didn’t do anything. But before I could take her aside and point out all the problems with the game, Holly leaned forward, drawing attention again to her boob shelf, and said, “Yes. Totally. Practice game. This is going to be amazing.”

  Eve’s face changed, and suddenly she was full of courage I’d never seen in her when we were best friends. And it confirmed for me that Holly being up for anything was what made Eve like her, and probably why Eve had slowly stopped liking me over the past year. I hated myself for not being able to be brave. And not saying no to this practice game was just one more example of that.

  * * *

  It’s one night, it’s one night, you can get through one night of anything, I repeated in my head like a mantra as I walked to Cam and Aiden’s. Holly had changed at Beau’s from her dance clothes into a T-shirt and short jean skirt that kept riding up as she walked in front of me. She and Eve were listening to another one of Chloe Donnelly’s “Chicago” stories, and I trailed behind them, breathing through my nose with deep inhales and exhales and trying not to completely freak out. Josh and Mateo were a few minutes behind us because Josh wanted to stop at home to change.

  I put my thumbnail into my mouth and started biting at the cuticle.

  “Other Chloe, stop biting your nails. This will be completely pink, I promise,” Chloe Donnelly said, turning around as if she’d been aware of me the whole time. “And it’s not even going to be a real game. I just want to show you all what it’s like.”

  I dropped my hand from my mouth and got out my hand sanitizer. I scrubbed my hands thoroughly, focusing on that so I wouldn’t keep thinking of all the ways Gestapo could go badly.

  Cam and Aiden’s house was near the end of Pearl Street, a smaller ranch-style in need of new siding. It took us less than fifteen minutes to get there from Beau’s. Both the guys were outside working on Cam’s car when we got there—an old Volkswagen Golf with a hundred thousand miles on it that their parents had found on Craigslist. It was a dumb, gearhead thing to be doing, and I’d almost think it was them showing off, except I knew Cam lived and died by that car, and was always fixing one thing or another
on it. Even though he sort of gave up on school, he was still good with his hands and building stuff. Though Holly complained he was obsessive and so focused all the time on it that he’d lose track of other stuff. One time for a joke sophomore year, someone had sent him crappy school-sponsored carnations on Valentine’s Day with a note that said, “Love, Your Car.” He’d laughed with everyone else, but I didn’t think he thought it was funny. For the past year and a half, when he wasn’t working on the car, I’d see him driving around town constantly in it, and part of me wondered if one day he’d take off altogether.

  Now he slammed the hood shut and crossed his arms, his black shirt tight across his chest and biceps. He shook his head to push his hair from his eyes even though it wasn’t much longer than Aiden’s. Probably a lot of girls would think the move made him super hot, but it seemed like such a cliché to me.

  Aiden stood next to his brother and scanned us quickly when we walked up. Scanned and dismissed us. He was nothing if not efficient. He had on a long-sleeved T-shirt, his dark hair and way-too-good looks and super-serious face making him seem as if he didn’t belong in Grinnell. The best way I could tell Aiden apart from his identical twin brother was how he held himself—rigid and straight, at military ease. His hair was slightly shorter than Cam’s, but not enough for it to make a huge difference. However, his shoulders thrown back and lifted chin were nothing like Cam’s perpetual give-zero-fucks slouch. Aiden had been talking about being a pilot in the navy since we were little kids. I kept thinking he’d eventually grow out of it, the way we’d all gotten over wanting to be a ballerina or firefighter or the president, but Aiden was determined still. Nearly everything he did was a step toward getting into the Naval Academy.

  Which was why I was so surprised when he was the one who said to Chloe Donnelly, “Explain to me again how this game works.”

  I looked between Chloe Donnelly and Aiden, and noticed she didn’t do her quick-gaze guy assessment, like maybe they’d already met. Confusion settled in. It didn’t make sense that they knew each other. She’d only been in school two days. Chloe Donnelly couldn’t have told him about the game already. Could she? A weird shiver ran up my spine and I shook my head to clear it.

  “Gestapo, Aiden. It’s called Gestapo. You can say it out loud. No one is going to put it on your permanent record or add you to a list anywhere,” Chloe Donnelly said.

  So they did know each other. Why hadn’t she said something when Holly mentioned dating a twin? Chloe Donnelly must have had a class with Aiden because she seemed to have already figured out his deal. And she was comfortable enough to tease him about it, which I would never do with soldier-serious Aiden.

  He stepped forward. “You do need four guys, right?”

  Eve slipped next to him and put her hand on his arm—so obvious—then said, “It’s so cool you’re playing. This is going to be really pink.”

  Then she blushed because pink sounded dumb coming out of her mouth, and Aiden had shaken her hand off and was looking at her like she was a few cards short of a full deck, as Nan liked to say.

  I glanced at Cam, who had a hand hooked around Holly’s hip with two fingers slipped into the waistband of her skirt, his oil-stained thumb smearing over her. I almost blurted, Leave room for Jesus, but didn’t think anyone would appreciate my joke. Probably Holly liked Cam’s possessiveness and how he groped her in public all the time. But to me, it looked more sleazy and as if he was trying to prove something—about himself or her, I wasn’t sure which.

  Chloe Donnelly pursed her lips and then said, “It’s not that hard, Aiden. I’m captain and I pick a four-letter word and write it on a slip of paper. Then I whisper a letter from the word to each of the girls. You guys pick a captain who won’t likely give anything up and do the same thing. Then we go find you and get your letters and figure out your word. Or you try to find us and get our letters. First team to figure out the other side’s word wins.”

  I’d heard the same spiel three times and it still gave me the creeps.

  “What are the boundaries? How far can we go?” Cam asked.

  “Let’s just play on both sides of this block tonight. No going inside, no going out of bounds. It’s a practice game, so we’ll play for half an hour. You all should be able to figure out how it works in that amount of time.”

  Before anyone could ask any more questions, Josh and Mateo walked up. Josh was in jeans and a tucked-in T-shirt, and Mateo had taken his work shirt off for the plain white tee underneath. Mateo nodded at us all and Josh fist-bumped Cam and Aiden, though it looked sort of unnatural for him. Chloe Donnelly repeated the parameters and rules of the game, pulling out a slip of paper and two pens. Then she said, “Okay, guys, pick a captain and have him choose a word and give you your letters. I’m huddling with the girls.”

  I shoved a finger back in my mouth, ignoring the hand-sanitizer taste, and tried to figure out what in the hell I was doing there. Chloe Donnelly ripped the paper in half and handed a piece to Cam along with a pen. Then she pulled me closer to her, Eve, and Holly, and patted my arm like I was a skittish animal. I spit my nail out and straightened up. I was being ridiculous. It was a dumb game, not that different from ghost in the graveyard, and I was treating it like a prison sentence. These were my friends. Breathing slowly through my nose again, I told myself I could do this.

  Chloe Donnelly cupped her hand around her slip of paper and penned something we couldn’t see before tucking it in her pocket. Then she said, “Okay, I have the word. I’m whispering your letters and then you all take off and hide somewhere on the block. Don’t go after the guys unless you’re sure you can get their letters.” She looked pointedly at me, but it wasn’t necessary. Going on the offensive was not in my game plan.

  She leaned in to each of us and whispered letters in our ear so only we could hear. I nodded when she gave me an E, and she added in a low voice, “Don’t worry, Other Chloe. There’re a few bushes a half a block up. Hide there. The guys won’t be able to see you.”

  Then she squeezed my bare, charm-bracelet-free wrist and called out to the guys, “Okay, we’re going to hide. Give us a three-minute start and then come looking for us. Or you can try to hide. Meet back here in thirty minutes.”

  I made sure my bag was tucked away beside Cam’s car and readied myself for the game. I took one last look at Mateo, but he was huddled with the guys. I couldn’t help but notice how cute his butt looked when he leaned over, so maybe male-stripper-sex movies weren’t enough to press any buttons inside me but . . . Chloe Donnelly coughed and I glanced at her, my cheeks on fire.

  “I’m so obvious,” I whispered.

  She squeezed my shoulder—again with the touchiness. “Obvious and adorable. It’ll totally work in your favor. Particularly with this game. Trust me.”

  I nodded, then booked it down the block and hid in the bushes she’d mentioned. I was certain any minute the people who owned the house were going to come out or call the cops because someone was lingering near their window, but when I glanced in, I saw an older couple watching Law & Order on the TV so I felt a little safer on that score.

  I squatted behind the farthest bush from the house and pulled out my phone to check the time. We’d be done by seven forty-five. This wasn’t a big deal. I was freezing but I could wait the game out. Thirty minutes was nothing.

  I scanned the parts of Pearl Street in my view, but I didn’t see anyone hiding. I heard a guy’s laughter at the end of the block and then a high-pitched squeal. Definitely Eve. Caught already. I took a deep breath and counted seconds in my head. The scrape of shoes drew my attention to the right. Josh. I held perfectly still, but it didn’t matter.

  “Chloe,” he said. “I knew you’d be in the bushes somewhere.”

  Panic mode. I could either bolt and try to lose Josh—not likely—or I could pretend I didn’t hear him and hope he went away. Neither seemed like a workable option. I curled my fingers into my palms and took a deep breath. I couldn’t imagine the old couple watching
Law & Order wouldn’t notice two people in their bushes. Which left me reluctantly stepping out of the bushes and onto the sidewalk.

  Josh laughed when he saw my face. “You look like someone stabbed your kitten. Come on, this is supposed to be fun.”

  “Josh. No one else is here. You don’t have to pretend. I saw your face when we were at Beau’s. The game’s sketchy and you know it.”

  Josh shrugged. “Well, at first it sounded that way. But you guys are my friends. No one is going to force anyone to do anything. We’re not on a spy mission going across enemy lines. We’re playing a word game.”

  “A word game called Gestapo.”

  He shook his head. “With high school kids in the middle of Iowa. Come on.”

  I studied him for a second, taking in the ease with which he was standing, like this was nothing, like he’d spent the time between Beau’s and Pearl Street convincing himself this was nothing. He had a sort of puppy-dog look on his face, hopeful and optimistic. A face I’d known for most of my life. Finally, I laughed. “It is kind of dumb, right?”

  “Totally.”

  We stood there for another thirty seconds, both of us not saying anything. “So . . . um, what’s your letter?” I tried.

  Josh laughed again. “It doesn’t work that way, I don’t think. You need to talk me into giving it to you.”

  And that was the problem. I had no idea of a way to talk Josh out of his letter that wasn’t either sleazy or would leave me owing him some huge favor. And I was pretty sure he’d never go for anything sleazy with me.

  “Or I could talk you out of your letter,” he said, but then looked down. It was dark but I knew for sure he was blushing. Which made me laugh. We were both completely out of our league trying to play this game in any real way.

  “How about we rock-paper-scissors for it?” I said.

  “What?”

  “Well, I don’t see either of us getting the other person’s letter any other way. Rock-paper-scissors seems legit.”

  Josh grinned wide and held up his hands. “Deal. Best out of three.”

 

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