James Games

by Rose, L. A.

  ~6~

  “Are you sure?” I demand. “No heat exhaustion? No fever? No reason I might have experienced any sort of hallucination recently?”

  The school nurse glances down over her clipboard again. “Nope. All your vitals are normal. If you’d like, we can do a blood test. What kind of hallucinations have you been experiencing?”

  The one where James Reid pulls the fire alarm and fucks me in the classroom where we argued about the meaning of life.

  “Oh, you know. I thought I saw, like…a big…never mind.”

  I slide off the nurse’s table, the paper crinkling underneath me. The burn between my thighs when I hit the floor proves to me that it really wasn’t a hallucination.

  I just had sex with James. Again.

  “Thanks,” I mumble to the doctor. I should ask if she has any cures for temporary insanity, because apparently that’s what happens to me when James is around.

  “Stress can make people feel strange. I’d see how you feel after a good night’s sleep.” She hands me my purse. “Are the fire trucks gone yet? I wanted to go take a picture of one for my son.”

  “Yeah. They didn’t stay long. There was no fire.” Except the one in my pants. “Some jerk probably just pulled the alarm as a joke.”

  “That happens a lot on weekend nights, but we don’t usually get false fire alarms during weekdays. I hope there wasn’t an emergency.”

  “There might have been a small one, but I bet it was taken care of.” I smile.

  Outside the nurse’s office, I pause and take a deep breath. So I can’t deny that that just happened. I just won’t let it happen again, that’s all.

  I’ve had lots of sex since I’ve come to college. Lots of easy, meaningless sex. Sex that never left me shaken. What just happened in that classroom was different. For the first time, I feel unsure. Scared. Scared of how much I wanted him. So much that I was willing to let that insanity happen.

  James Reid is exactly the man I thought he would be. Arrogant. Harsh. And the kind of person who takes what he wants, whenever and wherever he happens to want it.

  But I’m Fiona Arlett, and I don’t doubt myself. Not for him, and not for anybody else. I won’t let myself get swept up in James’s tide again. He better have enjoyed that fire alarm sex, because it’s the last sex he’ll be having with me.

  Reaffirmed, I stride out into the sun, only to be jumped.

  “Grab her arm. No, her other arm.” It’s Iris, latched on to me with the kind of grip that only pro wrestlers and supervillains have.

  “She’s so slippery! Like a fish,” Mags complains as I wrench out of her grip and twirl away.

  “What are you nerds doing—mmph.”

  Iris claps a hand over my mouth at the same time that Mags reclaims her grip on me, and the two of them frog-march me across campus. A few boys get bug-eyed as we pass, probably assuming that we’re off to have kinky lesbian sex. Which, for all I know, could be the truth. Might not be too bad. Shouldn’t I include a couple girls in my wild college experimentation phase?

  They drag me up to our dorm room and slam the door. I raise an eyebrow at Iris. She’s sulked every time I’ve tried to bring a new friend to our room, but suddenly Mags is allowed? They’ve been scheming. This suspicion is confirmed as Mags plops me down on my bed and Iris sets up her laptop in front of me.

  “I thought you were supposed to be the shy, sweet character,” I accuse Mags.

  “This is for your own good,” she stammers, keeping a tight grip on my wrists. I let her. Girl looks like she needs to succeed at something.

  Iris finishes messing with her computer and when she steps back, an outgoing Skype call is ringing. She speaks over the sound. “Someone saw you chatting up James outside the Philosophy department, Fiona.”

  “Really? Is that all they saw?” I ask, the picture of innocence.

  A scowl forms on my roommate’s face that could make prison inmates cry. “They had to leave because the fire alarm went off, but I know you were hitting on him. You’re a goddamn idiot.”

  “As a matter of fact, I was telling him off—” I start, but I’m interrupted by an image flashing to life on the screen.

  “Hello? Hello?” a new voice calls. Even through the grainy image that our shitty internet gives us, I can see that the dark-haired twenty-something is beautiful. She’s wearing eighties pastels, winged eyeliner, and a delighted expression when she catches a glimpse of my roommate’s grumpy face. “Iris! When you said you were going to call I wasn’t sure to believe you or not, but—”

  “Daisy,” Iris cuts her off. “We need to talk to you about—”

  And then I cut her off. “Iris, is that your…sister?” The girl onscreen is about as far in aesthetic from Iris as it’s possible to be.

  “You didn’t tell her about me?” Daisy screeches. “What was she gonna do when I came and visited, assume there was a gorgeous stranger breaking into her dorm room?”

  I sense a kindred spirit and smile, but Iris is turning stonier-faced by the second. “I need you to tell us about Catherine Rivers.”

  “Who?” I ask. Daisy’s brow twists up.

  “We need to scare my idiot roommate away from James Reid,” Iris clarifies.

  “Ahhh,” Daisy breathes out. “Well, then. Catty was…”

  “Wait!” Mags switches the lights off and then attempts to hold her iPhone flashlight under Daisy’s digital chin, presumably to create a scary-story campfire mood, but that tactic doesn’t really work over Skype. Mags seems to realize this and sheepishly withdraws her phone.

  “…Anyway.” Daisy steeples her fingers and glances apprehensively at her sister. “Catty was in Phi Delta Chi with me—”

  “Yes, yes, revelations all around,” mutters Iris as I open my mouth to scream at her. Her sister was in Phi Delta Chi! That explains why Iris was so determined to join it, even though sororities didn’t seem like her thing.

  “She was a freshman when I was a senior,” Daisy continues. “I liked her. She was kind of wild, reckless, you know. One of those girls who hits college and just goes crazy.”

  “Wow, definitely doesn’t sound like anyone we know.” Iris elbows Mags, who giggles nervously. Great. Iris has a new best friend.

  “Sigrid was a freshman that year too. She was totally gorgeous and all the boys were obsessed with her. But she wasn’t interested in any of them. They said she came to UCSD for one reason and one reason alone: because James Reid was rumored to be with the entering class.”

  I tick years off on my fingers. That would make James a senior.

  “Sigrid claimed it wasn’t her idea, but everyone said she approached the head of Phi Delta Chi at the time and proposed the James Games. I guess she didn’t want anyone else getting their hands on him before she did. The head accepted. Probably because Sigrid intimidated her. She was one scary girl.”

  Scary, schmary. Scary to people who are baby birds, maybe.

  “I’m sure you guys know about the rules of the Games, now that you’re initiates—and congrats, baby sis, I knew you could do it! So none of us were supposed to touch James. But one night, at a party, Catty got drunk and kissed him. Just a peck. Just a joke. The next morning, she disappeared.”

  “Dun dun dunnn,” I can’t help but intone. Iris pinches my ear. “Ow!”

  Daisy hasn’t even noticed us. It’s like she’s lost in a different time. “It took me a while to track down Catty after she left school, but when I did, I got the whole story. Sigrid and her cronies drove her six hours into the desert, shaved her head, took her clothes, and left her there. Alone.”

  Suddenly there is something lodged in my throat. That wasn’t what I was expecting. “That’s a bit…harsh.”

  “And it’s not all. When Catty finally made it back, she went straight to the dean, of course. But Sigrid is the dean’s daughter, and she’d already got a bunch of girls to corroborate her story that Catty hated her, had hated her for ages, and had cooked up this whole false story and shaved her
own head to get Sigrid kicked out. In the end, Catty was expelled for slandering another student.”

  “No way!” I stand straight up. “There’s no way she got away with that. Evil masterminds don’t exist in real life.”

  “Except when they’re named Sigrid,” Daisy sighs. “Take my advice and stay as far away from James as possible. The only way Sigrid wouldn’t murder you if you got near him was if you won the Games, and even then…besides, he’s kind of a jerk. He’s probably not worth it anyway.”

  “And all Catty did was kiss James,” Iris says loudly, elbowing me in the chest because she apparently hates subtlety. “Imagine what Sigrid and her minions would do to someone who slept with him.”

  I make a mental note to drool on her pillow next time she’s not in the room.

  “They would probably get stabbed in their sleep,” says Daisy in awe.

  Mags shivers and hugs herself. I make a show of tossing my chin up, but secretly my skin is prickling. I’d figured Sigrid was a mean girl, but I hadn’t counted on flat-out insane.

  “Well, anyway, you’re all too smart to mess around with James anyway.” Daisy perks up. “Iris, tell me about your classes! I’ve barely heard from—”

  Iris reaches over and pops the lid of her laptop shut. Mags winces.

  “See?” Iris demands. “This is why you need to take this seriously.”

  “You don’t need to worry. I’m done with James,” I yawn. “I wouldn’t want anything more to do with him even if Sigrid wasn’t on my tail like a homicidal beauty queen.”

  “If I know that you were chatting up James, then Sigrid knows too. She already doesn’t like you. You have to show her you’re not a threat and lose the Games. As decisively as possible.”

  I roll onto my stomach and stick my head under my pillow. “I don’t like losing.”

  “Do you like living?”

  “Think about this.” Mags gently removes the pillow from my face. “If you make it really obvious you want to lose the Games, it’ll show everyone that you couldn’t care less about James. You’d be making a point.”

  “I do like making points.” I sit up. “You know what? The Games are so stupid. I’m going to show everyone exactly what I think of them by doing the opposite for every challenge.”

  I catch Mags nodding knowingly at Iris and frown at her until she stops. It’s not like I’m doing this because of I’m afraid of Sigrid. I’m not afraid of anybody. It’s that I can’t think of a better way to prove to James that I don’t care about him than trying my hardest to lose his stupid contest.

  “So the first challenge is combining modesty with sexiness,” says Mags diplomatically. “So you probably want to wear something short and low-cut—”

  She’s interrupted by a knock on our door. I answer, glad to have a reason to escape this conversation, but it turns out to be a leap from the frying pan into the lobster pot, because standing in hallway is the Wicked Witch herself.

  Behind me, Iris and Mags shrivel into little balls of terror. I try to act cool by leaning on the door frame with my elbow out, only to miss and smack my cheek on the frame. I hastily rearrange myself. Sigrid is staring at me with a smile I don’t like at all. It’s the smile that cats have right before they eat the cute baby chipmunk under your porch. Behind her, Ellie is texting, and another girl—a junior named Amber, I think—is doing her best to mimic Sigrid’s stance in every way.

  “Could we have a word?”

  You know when you put too much powdered sugar in your coffee and it all condenses into the last sip with a sweetness that makes you want to barf? That’s what Sigrid’s voice sounds like.

  Iris gets up from the bed and I can tell she’s about to defend me. But if I’m going down, I refuse to take my friends with me. I step into the hallway and shut the door. “Of course, milady. What can I do you for?”

  Amber’s eyes narrow as she tries to decide whether or not I’m making fun of them, but Sigrid is unruffled. “You had to realize there was no way I was ever going to let you get away with the things you said to me at the initiation ceremony.”

  “I guess not,” I admit. “That wouldn’t be very evil overlord-ish of you.”

  “How dare you,” Amber snaps, and I’m nearly blinded by her bleached teeth, but Sigrid holds up a hand.

  “In Phi Delta Chi, we operate on a system of respect,” says Sigrid with the calm of an axe murderer who has her victim in a bunker three miles underground. I almost expect her to follow it up with ‘no one’s around to hear you scream.’ “You have shown disrespect. If I left that unpunished, our system would fall apart. Do you follow?”

  “Like a duckling after its mother into a busy intersection.”

  “You’ve got a lot of confidence,” Sigrid smiles. “I knew a girl like you once. The most valuable lesson I ever taught her was that a little shame goes a long way. I think the same lesson would help you immensely. So you’ll be attending our first party naked.”

  Amber sniggers and tries to high-five Ellie, who is too busy chewing gum and texting to notice. She slowly lets her hand fall. Sigrid watches me carefully, waiting for my freak-out.

  “Can I wear shoes?” I ask.

  Her eyebrow arches. “Excuse me?”

  “If you don’t go naked, we’ll kick you out of the sorority,” Amber breaks in. “And you have to stay for at least three hours.”

  “Yeah, okay, fine, but can I wear shoes? I don’t want to step on a broken beer bottle or something. That would suck.”

  “Yes, you can wear shoes.” Sigrid’s face darkens. I’m not reacting like she expected. I backtrack, playing along.

  “But, oh no, wait, isn’t the first party the ‘dress modestly’ challenge? This way I’ll be off to a terrible start in the Games.”

  The cat smile is back. “I know.”

  “Gosh darn it. Fiddlesticks. Your cruelty knows no bounds.” I throw my hand dramatically to my forehead.

  “If you tell anyone, including Brooklyn, that I had anything to do with this, I’ll personally make sure you’re expelled.” Sigrid jabs me in the chest. “If I approach you at the party, you act like I knew nothing.”

  “Aye aye, captain.”

  “Oh, and Fiona?” She hooks her finger into the neck of my shirt and pulls me close. Her eyes are cold and quietly furious. They’re definitely the eyes of someone capable of abandoning a naked girl in the desert. A thrill of fear runs through me, though I do my best to keep it off my face.

  “Stay away from James Reid,” she says sweetly.

  She lets me go with a little push, so that I stumble into the wall. Then she cocks her head at her cronies, turns with a flick of her hair, and leaves me alone in the hallway with James’s name ringing in my skull.

  ~7~

  “I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Mags moans, her knuckles white on the wheel. It’s Friday night. I adjust the bathrobe’s tie around my waist. Underneath it, I’m as naked as the day I was born. Minus the placenta.

  “Just drop out of Phi Delta Chi, you giant dumbass,” Iris hisses from the backseat. “There’s a million of them at this school. Pick another one that doesn’t have any bloodthirsty upperclassmen forcing you to go naked to parties.”

  “That’s exactly what she wants!” I protest. “She told me to go naked hoping that I would wimp out and drop out. Well, fuck that. If she wants to see my glorious naked ass, she’s going to. Besides, this is what we wanted anyway, right? I couldn’t lose this challenge any more spectacularly than this.”

  “You were supposed to show cleavage, not your nipples.” Iris sinks lower in her seat.

  “My nipples are fabulous and everyone should see them.” I shake my hair out. My heart is pounding, but that’s a tidbit I keep to myself. If I’m going to pull this off, I can’t let my confidence crack. “I’ll lose the challenge. Sigrid will be satisfied. Everyone will know I don’t give two shits about impressing James Reid. That’s like, three birds with one very naked stone.”

  “I just hope
there’s a lot of alcohol,” Iris mutters as Mags pulls up outside the frat house. I take a deep breath, shed my bathrobe, and step out of the car, flanked on either side by a furiously blushing Mags and an Iris whose hand keeps returning to her forehead.

  It’s a frat house off campus and the lawn is dotted with hot guys holding beer cans. As I walk by, several of these beer cans drop to the grass, along with their jaws.

  “Hello, boys,” I say, waggling my fingers at them as I stride past in my stripper heels. Found these things at Goodwill for ten bucks and practiced walking in them for hours. After all, if you’re going to walk into a party wearing nothing but a pair of high heels, you’ve got to make sure you don’t stumble.

  “What the fuck did you give me, dude?” A red-eyed lax bro grabs his friend’s lapels. “I’m hallucinating hot naked chicks.”

  “Oh God oh God oh God,” Mags whimpers, as a very choice specimen of manliness trips over himself on the front porch and faceplants in someone’s spilled beer. She hides her face in her hands. “This was a bad idea.”

  Iris smoothes the front of her fitted, high-necked black dress. “We just need to get drunk as quickly as possible.”

  “Are you kidding? This was a great idea,” I laugh, enjoying the evening breeze on places it doesn’t usually get to reach. Turns out walking into a crowded place naked with your head held high is the biggest confidence booster there is. “I’m never wearing clothes again. They’re a terrible invention. I was born to be naked. Ready?”

  We’ve reached the front door. Both of them hesitate, so I link arms with my girls and stride straight in.

  For the first ten seconds, the typical party scene continues spinning on. A couple making out on the couch, music in the air, a lively game of beer pong taking place in the kitchen. Then a few people glance toward the door to see who just walked in. And gradually, everything stills. Even the music goes quiet. A ping-pong ball bounces off a guy’s forehead and he doesn’t even blink.

  “Evening, ladies and gentlemen. Anyone want to direct me to the drinks? Oh, lovely,” I say, locating a cooler against the wall and retrieving a Bud Light. “Excellent weather we’re having, isn’t it? Perfect for nudity.”