No Safety in Numbers

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No Safety in Numbers Page 11

by Dayna Lorentz


  He stepped into the two bottom loops, then pulled the waistband, sliding the loops up his jeans, and fastened the harness like a belt. “See?” He lifted his shirt slightly, exposing smooth skin and just the barest hint of navel, then pointed, like she wasn’t already staring. She wondered if he was really just showing her the harness.

  Two can play this game.

  “I think my kameez is going to get in the way,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

  She walked—feet barely touching the tiles—to a changing room, undid her choli, and slipped the kameez over her head. She then pulled the choli back on, fastened the clasps between her shoulder blades, and slipped the harness over her jeans.

  The choli fit tightly around her curves, ending just above her waist, leaving her belly exposed to the top of her low-riding jeans. The harness wrapped around her natural waist, the padding hugged her skin. She liked her body. Why not show it?

  Stepping out of the room, she saw that her plan had the desired effect. Ryan’s jaw unhinged itself, he looked so stunned. Maybe he really was just showing me the harness…?

  She swallowed the nervousness that bubbled inside at this realization and decided to just play it cool. So she’d upped the ante. He was a boy for whom the ante should be upped.

  “Now what?” she said as if she were confident in her half nakedness.

  “Huh?” he said. “Uh, ropes.” He snatched a rope from the wall. It was already knotted around a metal D-ring. “You want to go first?” he asked. He seemed to be fighting the urge to drop his gaze.

  “Sure,” she said.

  He paused for a moment, then reached forward and quickly slipped the ring around a small loop on the front of her harness. His hands came distressingly close to her skin. Gooseflesh pimpled her belly.

  He stepped back, his cheeks fiery with blush, and attached a different metal gizmo to his harness. “Now climb,” he said. “I’ve got you.” He looked into her eyes and flashed his half smile, and she knew that he did.

  Standing nose-to-wall, she wrapped her hands around two small lumpy handholds just above her head, put one foot on another lump, then lifted off the ground. As she moved spider-like up the wall, she felt him tighten the rope between them.

  “You’re almost there,” he shouted.

  She reached up and touched the ceiling. There was a small ledge nearby and she scooted herself onto it. She wasn’t high off the ground, but she may as well have been orbiting the earth, from the dizzy feeling she got looking back down at him.

  “Now jump!” he said. He pulled the slack from her rope.

  She leaned back off the ledge, feeling the strength of his hold on her, then dropped, her hair whipping across her face, until the rope caught her, jolting her, forcing a yelp of laughter from her already smiling lips.

  He lowered her down slowly. She hung limp until she felt her feet touch the ground.

  “Great, right?” he said, steadying her.

  “Amazing.”

  He climbed next. He moved expertly up the wall, his hands gripping holds barely bigger than a knuckle. When he reached the top, he sat on the ledge and switched the D-ring to the back of his harness.

  “You got me?” he said.

  She tugged the rope tighter. “I’ve got you.”

  And he fell, his eyes locked on hers as he swept toward her. She nearly let go of the rope, she was so overwhelmed by him. But she held on, catching his weight against her hips. He smiled, feeling the sudden link between them, and kept smiling all the way down.

  “I can’t believe that was your first time,” he said. “Climbing, I mean.” The rope hung limp between them.

  “I had a good teacher.” Shay felt an incredible urge to touch him, but feared she might burst into flame.

  A sales guy came over to reprimand Ryan for using the back loop on the harness, blathering on about liability or something, but they just detached themselves from the rope, slipped out of their harnesses, grabbed her bag, and drifted away from him.

  When they reached the door, Ryan took her hand and the sensation sent shock waves across her skin.

  “What next?” she asked.

  But really, who cared? So long as they were together.

  L

  E

  X

  I

  Oh my god,” Maddie squealed, sloshing her decaf mocha inside its paper cup, “you have to tell her about Tomo’s party the other weekend!”

  It was like the riot had never happened; the mess had been cleaned by the Feds overnight and even the fear was hard to recall, sitting now as Lexi was in the food court, the place where “everyone” hung out, according to Maddie. Lexi noticed that the halls for the most part were devoid of grown-ups. Maybe they’d been scared into hiding. But not the teens.

  Ginger was mid-sip and began shaking with laughter. “Sorry,” she mumbled, trying to swallow without snarfing her latte. “Too funny.”

  “Fine,” Maddie said. “I’ll tell her.”

  Maddie began regaling Lexi with another tale from the History of Irvington Country Day. Apparently, it was not all tea parties and polo games. The last story ended with, “And then we had to call the fire department because the bonfire lit up the grass clippings in the lawn.”

  So this was the life she’d been denied by sticking with video games and computer programming. She’d never seen an entire lawn ablaze before. Maybe everything was more fun when there was a bit of terror lurking in the shadows. Take, for instance, Maddie Flynn. Not the brightest chip on the circuit board, but totally entertaining. Her stories helped distract Lexi from the fact that one floor below, down a short hall, government scientists were figuring out whether or not she had Ebola. (Probably not—she had yet to start bleeding out her eyes.)

  Maddie was up on a chair now, imitating the dance some girl had done across the diving board of Tomo’s pool. “And then she totally fell in, drink and all!” Maddie stepped down off the seat.

  “Why’d you stop the show?” some asshole hollered from across the food court.

  “In your dreams, dickweed,” Maddie screamed back, not even looking.

  “How do you put up with it?” Lexi asked.

  “Boys are stupid,” Maddie said, swilling more coffee. “They’re always thinking with their crotch.”

  “I wish my boobs were worthy of a shout-out,” Ginger said. “But I’d rather have ballet than boobs.”

  “I hate it,” Lexi said.

  “So a guy likes your tits and says so. Why let it get to you?” Maddie asked, giving Lexi the raised-eyebrow once-over.

  “I’m not like you,” Lexi said. Maddie’s eyebrows sunk into a scowl. Lexi scrambled for a better explanation. “I mean, I’m not good with boys.”

  Now their interest was piqued.

  “Have you ever been kissed?” Ginger asked.

  “No.”

  Maddie leaned over the table, a wicked smile unfurling across her face. “I dare you to go up to”—she flicked a purple-painted nail—“that table, and offer one of those guys a lap dance.”

  Lexi glanced over. The guys at the table were normal-looking. Not her normal guys, but normal-looking by everyone else’s standards: rumpled, chiseled, shaggy-haired. It was only a dance.

  “What do I get if I do it?” Lexi asked. An airy feeling expanded through her stomach, sent tingles to her fingers.

  “You get to dare me to do something,” Maddie said.

  What a proposition: A measly dance for control over Maddie Flynn? Done and done. “Fine,” Lexi said.

  She stood up. She’d seen movies. She knew what to do. What boys were looking for. So she had never really “danced” before (she and Darren spent middle school dances at home playing Halo online). It couldn’t be that hard. She didn’t have to touch the guy, and he couldn’t touch her—there were rules. Right?

  She was in front of them.

  “What?” one of the guys grunted.

  Lexi gulped down what felt like an ocean of saliva. “Wh-which one of y
ou would like a lap dance?”

  The boys looked at one another, then burst out laughing. Lexi remained calm. She popped her hip out, giving them a full view of her generous rump. Then she unzipped her hoodie. She was wearing a normal T-shirt, but with her boobs, normal T-shirts were revealing. She pulled the ends of each sleeve and then shimmied (awkwardly) the sweatshirt the rest of the way off.

  Now she had their attention. One took the bait. “Okay,” he said. “I mean, why not?”

  Lexi glanced over at Maddie and Ginger. They were leaning over the tabletop. Maddie’s hand shooed her on.

  Lexi strutted forward, one hand on hip. She slowly walked around the guy’s chair, swishing her ass back and forth, taking it slow to give her more time to think up what to do next. When she reached the front of his chair, she bent forward, shoving her butt in his face.

  “Yeah, back up that junk,” one of the guys said.

  And at that very moment, she farted.

  If she could have deleted herself from the universe, she would have.

  Blood pulsed in her ears. She could die of shame or she could own that fart.

  She stood straight up and spun around. “That’s what you get for calling my body junk,” she said.

  “Oh, foul!” the boys said, waving their hands in front of their faces. “Dude, you got played!”

  Lexi picked up her hoodie, swung it jauntily over her shoulder, and sashayed back to the gaping Maddie and Ginger.

  “Holy shit!” Maddie said, laughing.

  “That was totally gross!” Ginger said, eyes wide with awe.

  Maddie flopped back into her chair. “Did you really do that on purpose?” she asked.

  A billion butterflies batted their wings against Lexi’s belly. She was light-headed.

  “Hell yeah, I did.” Lexi said. There were moments in which one should tell the truth. This was not one of them. She was cool. She was in control. She turned to Maddie. “Now it’s my turn. I dare you to do that dance again on the chair.”

  “La-ame,” Maddie sang.

  Lexi dug into her brain—to what depths did one have to sink to impress someone like Maddie?

  “Fine,” she said. “I dare you to streak the ice-skating rink.”

  Maddie’s eyes sparkled. “You are on.”

  They’d been at it all day, and Lexi was exhausted. Maddie had gotten a rash from falling butt-naked onto the ice, Ginger was wanted by the saleslady at Sephora for stealing lipsticks, and Lexi had slid on her stomach all the way down a bowling lane, knocking over the pins with her head (seven-ten split), and was now banned from playing there for life. They’d been at it all day, and Lexi was exhilarated.

  After a dinner spent recounting the day’s insanity, they’d retired to Abercrombie, where the other resident teens had begun to gather.

  Lexi turned to Maddie. “Truth: How many of these guys have you kissed?”

  Maddie waved her hand around. “Truth sucks. Give me a dare.”

  “Truth or dare,” a male voice cooed. “My kind of game.”

  Three boys materialized out of the pheromone-laced shadows.

  “Welcome to the naughty circle,” Maddie said, patting the floor beside her and batting her bedroom eyes.

  The boys inserted themselves between Lexi and Maddie. One eyed Lexi’s chest, then looked her in the eye and gave her a chin jut of approval. Lexi’s skin crawled.

  “I dare you,” Maddie said, pointing at one of the boys, “to take off your shirt.”

  The guy smiled, checked in with his bros on either side, then lifted his tee, revealing abs the likes of which Lexi had only glimpsed on a screen.

  More kids appeared. There was nothing like a sex game to lure in the masses.

  “Me next,” a newcomer said. “I dare you”—he pointed to a blond girl in a tank—“to take off your clothes.”

  She giggled, then began peeling off her top.

  The room felt too dark. The racks of clothes pressed in on Lexi.

  “Now me,” said the underwear-clad girl. “I dare you to kiss her.” She pointed at a brunette in a sweater who blushed, but leaned forward, eager.

  Lexi did not want her first kiss to be the result of a dare. Some sloppy, slimy, droolfest across the wood floor of an Abercrombie.

  The two kissed. Somewhere in the shadows, a kid coughed. The word Ebola flashed in neon behind Lexi’s eyes.

  This was dangerous. There were germs, people. The two kissers separated. The girl licked her lips. The boy sneezed.

  This game was like fucking Russian roulette.

  Maddie was on the other side of the circle, but Ginger was still next to Lexi. She seemed to be intently watching the game, leaning forward after each dare like she was hoping some guy would notice her.

  “We have to get out of here,” Lexi whispered into Ginger’s ear.

  “Huh?” Ginger glanced at her. “Don’t worry,” she said. “If you don’t want to do it, just say ‘Pass.’”

  “It’s not that,” Lexi said. “I mean, it is that, but it’s something more.”

  Ginger looked at her. “Okay, what?”

  From across the circle: “I dare those two to kiss.” He was pointing at Lexi and Ginger.

  Ginger blanched.

  Lexi grabbed Ginger’s arm, dragging her to her feet. “We pass.” She pulled Ginger into a pool of shadow. Hoots of disappointment burst from the circle.

  “What are you doing?” Ginger said, wrenching her arm from Lexi’s grasp.

  “Saving your life.” Lexi was trying to be vague. She wouldn’t be divulging any secrets so long as she was vague.

  “What are you talking about?” Ginger asked. She was getting mad now. She glanced at the circle. Another couple was kissing.

  “The security situation,” Lexi said. She instantly had Ginger’s attention.

  “Did your mom tell you something?”

  How to say as little as possible…

  “The medical teams,” Lexi blurted. “They think there’s something in the air, like we’re infected with something.”

  Ginger’s eyes teared up. “Are we going to die?”

  “No,” Lexi said, covering. “No, it’s just that you could get sick. I mean, they have cures for the stuff, but you don’t want to go through that.”

  “Oh my god,” she said. She looked at the circle. “We should tell them, stop them.”

  Lexi grabbed her arm before she could move. “No!” She scrambled for a reason. “No, I mean, my mom said that they were just going to cure everyone without saying anything, to avoid freaking people out. That—that’s actually what the testing is. But you still don’t want to get the illness. We should go.” Lexi began walking toward the exit.

  Ginger followed. “I need to call my dad.”

  “They shut down the phones and the Internet.”

  “But your scanner,” Ginger said, pleading. “It’s like those things truckers have, right?”

  “Your dad’s a lawyer, not a trucker.” They were in the well-lit hall now. Lexi’s breathing slowed. She felt calmer. Why didn’t I think of using a CB before?

  “But maybe we can reach a trucker, maybe they can call my dad.” Ginger grabbed her arm, pulled Lexi around to face her. “I need to talk to him.”

  The girl was white as death. All Lexi had wanted was to get out of the store. She owed Ginger something. And didn’t Ginger’s dad deserve to know at least that Ginger was all right?

  “I have a friend, Darren,” Lexi said. “He used to have a CB radio, built it from one of those kits. Maybe I can reach him, and he can call your dad.”

  Ginger threw her arms around Lexi. “Thank you,” she said, then she pulled away, blushing. “Sorry,” she said. “I guess we shouldn’t hug anymore.”

  “No,” Lexi said. An oil slick of regret began to bubble in her gut.

  Lexi bought a portable CB radio (Dad was going to blow a transistor when he got his credit card bill) and led Ginger to a quiet corner in the home section of the JCPenney (far from the Se
nator’s prying ears). They took some fake LED candles from a Halloween display to light the way. It wasn’t Lights Out yet, but the staff had switched off half the lights. Someone snored nearby.

  Nestled in a pile of throw pillows, Lexi clicked to the channel she and Darren had used as kids. “DMaster?” she whispered into the mic. “You out there?”

  “This feels like a séance,” Ginger said, slinking closer to Lexi.

  “Darren?” she said again.

  “Lexi?” He was there. He was waiting for her.

  She felt a tear trickle down her cheek. “It’s me,” she said, smiling just to hear his voice.

  “I left the radio on, in case you remembered. What’s going on in there?” he asked. “The news people are talking dirty bombs.”

  “It’s not a dirty bomb,” Lexi said. Then instantly regretted it.

  “Shit, you know what’s going on?”

  Why didn’t he ask if she was okay? Shouldn’t that have been his first question?

  “Look, everything’s going to be fine,” she said. “I need you to do me a favor.”

  “Yeah, sure,” he said. “So what’s it like in there? Are people going crazy?”

  For all their years of friendship, did he even know her? Did he even care?

  “It’s totally normal,” Lexi said. “Like any other day at the mall.” She let go of the TALK button.

  “Why are you lying to him?” Ginger said. “I thought he was your best friend.”

  The CB crackled. “That sucks,” he said. “These past couple days, I had kinda wished I’d gone to the mall with you. It sounded like it might have been cool.”

  “Being trapped in the CommerceDome is suddenly cool?” Lexi asked.

  “At least it would be different.”

  This was how shitty their lives had become. Exile in a mall was better than their daily existence on the outside.

  “Ask him about my dad,” Ginger said, reminding Lexi of why they’d bothered contacting Darren.

  Lexi clicked the TALK button. “I need you to call someone for me and say exactly what I tell you to, okay?”

  “Can’t he go and get my dad?” Ginger said, tears beginning to form in her eyes. “Can’t I talk to him myself?”

 

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