Dare Me (31 page)

One of the monitors beeps furiously and I break into a sweat. I’m flooded with memories now, and I realize everything we’ve done, and that we’ve been caught, but am afraid to remember anything about tonight.

The doctor places a hand on my chest. “Lie back, Ben. Easy now. I don’t want you to start bleeding from your wound.” I grab his wrist.

“Is she okay?”

The doctor, whose nametag I can now see—Stein—pats my hand and removes it from his arm. I have no strength whatsoever. “Who, Ben? Who is
she
?”

Officer Smith readies his pen and my head throbs so hard I have to shut my eye. Again, it’s only one. Is that the wound? Regardless, I see Alexia on the ground. The blood. Her sigh. “Alexia Bellamy. How is she?”

“I can’t tell you specifics. But I can say she’s with us and is being treated.”

I’d love to yell, to demand he tell me more or I’ll rip out my IV, but it’s exhausting enough to accept this and say, “Okay.”

“Please, Officer Smith, make it quick.”

I hear the cop flip pages in his notebook. “Ben, just answer yes or no.”

“Okay.”

“Did you have an altercation with Jesse Holmes and his friends this evening?”

“Yes.”

“Did that altercation end with a vehicular accident involving you, Jesse, and Alexia Bellamy?”

“Yes.”

“Were you the one operating the vehicle at the time of the accident?”

I start to say yes, but stop myself. That’s not really how it happened. I was driving, but not in the normal sense of the word. “It’s complicated.”

“Just a yes or a no, Ben.”

Doctor Stein hums to himself as he works over me. I have no idea what the hell he’s doing or what anyone else has said about what happened. I don’t know if there’s a story I’m supposed to be selling. It’s only me and my throbbing head and my one eye and Officer Smith and his fucking questions. I want Doc Stein to knock me out. But not until I know what’s happened to Alexia.

“No, then. Because it wasn’t just me. Jesse had the wheel.”

The officer sighs, a deep breath out his nose. I wait for him to ask for explanation, but he moves on. “And were you involved in a dare that was scheduled to go on at your school dance?”

Shit, what doesn’t this guy know? I force my eye open. Officer Smith is staring down at his notebook, which is probably filled with facts about tonight and about us and all we’ve been doing. He might as well be holding a shovel to dig my grave.

“You tell me how Alexia is doing, and I’ll answer your question.”

Smith frowns. “I’m not about to . . .”

Doctor Stein hums so loud now it’s ridiculous. He looks around. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He checks my chart and says, “Officer, I’ll give you another minute and then you need to let Ben rest.”

Smith opens his mouth to speak but doesn’t. He shuts his notebook and frowns. “She’s in stable condition after having surgery to remove a cornstalk that she was impaled by. It didn’t hit any major organs.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Now, back to my question.”

He already knows the answer and he gave me the one that I wanted to hear. The rest doesn’t matter. “Yes. I was part of the Daredevil Crew.”

I expect Officer Smith to slap a handcuff on my wrist, but he just nods once and says, “Thank you.” He turns on his heel and is out the door.

I feel like crying. What did I do? What have we done?

“Sleep, now. You’ll feel better when you wake up.” Doctor Stein’s voice is gentle and so reassuring that I settle back onto my pillow and in an instant feel as if I’m drowning. I do not resist.

—

The sun slants
into the room and touches the foot of the bed. It’s a moment before I realize I’m staring at it, which means I’m awake. I blink to shake off the sleep and something deep within the left side of my head burns. I examine the room. Half of the room. I have to turn my head to see the clock displaying it’s after 7 a.m. It’s dizzying and I have to lie back. I open and shut my eye and the same throbbing emerges on the left side.

In this moment, I know. I understand that I’ve screwed up in a way I never imagined I would. My life is a hot steaming mess.

I hit the call button, and a nurse appears, and behind her, my family. She turns to them. “One minute, please.” It’s not a request. She shuts the door in their faces and comes to me.

“Ben, good morning.” She smiles bright and that makes it all hurt more. They only do that for the doomed. “Are you okay?”

“It hurts,” I say and point at my head, not that I can see my hand.

She purses her lips. “Mmm-hmm. That makes sense. Anything else bothering you?”

I force myself to ask. “Why does it hurt?”

Her look tells me. It’s a moment of pure shock, one I imagine we induced in so many people as they watched our videos. “You don’t know?” Her words are hesitant.

But I do. I’ve paid enough attention in school. Maybe not this year. But I know. “Is it because the muscles are still working along with the remaining eye?”

She puts a hand to her mouth and nods.

I’m half-blind. Somehow, last night, I lost sight in my left eye. “Okay,” I say, and let the nurse resume her business of checking my vitals.

When she’s done, she squeezes my hand and says, “Doctor Stein will be along shortly. You want your family now?”

“Please.”

They pile in, Mom and Dad examining me from head to toe, asking if anything hurts, if I need anything, and then Mom crying uncontrollably when I tell her I know what happened. Dad comforts her, and Ginny, who is sad but not crying, approaches the bed, carrying her laptop.

“So, you’re quite the hero.”

“What?” It feels like Ginny’s joking, but everything is surreal at this point so I can’t be sure.

“Maybe
hero
is a bit much. But last night . . .”

“Ginny, enough!” Mom snaps.

Ginny looks at her and then at me. “Give him this. Come on.”

“Please, let her explain. I don’t remember much.”

Mom sits up out of Dad’s embrace. “But you remember us? Who you are?”

That last one’s a difficult question, but I say, “Yeah, it’s last night that’s fuzzy, I think.”

The door opens and Officer Smith enters. “Good, you’re awake.” He nods to my parents and pauses at my sister’s laptop. He turns back to me. “Ben, do you remember me?”

“If I say no, will I get out of trouble?”

“I’ll take that as a yes. But to answer your question, it’s a lot like the way you answered me last night about who was driving. Do you remember me asking that?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s complicated.” He again looks at Ginny’s laptop. “Are you connected through the Wi-Fi?”

“Yes,”

Officer Smith reaches for her computer. “May I?”

Ginny hands it over, and as the officer finds whatever page he’s looking for, shakes her head and mouths, “I’m sorry.”

Officer Smith sets the laptop on the bed’s railing and turns the screen to me. It’s our website, and on it is a new video labeled, “The truth.”

“Just watch.” Office Smith presses play.

The video begins with Ricky, not wearing a mask, explaining about what happened last night. He then waves, and Trevor and John come on camera. “We needed to make this video so that you would all understand what went wrong last night and why we even started these dares in the first place.”

I sit up and as much as it hurts, force myself to watch as scenes from our dares play out and Ricky narrates about the initial idea for a legacy and then the change with O. P. He includes footage from our interview with Ginny, and, thankfully, leaves out whatever the connection we believed about Chantel. He describes what happened with Jesse and his friends around Christmas, as well as what’s been going on with Alexia. He clears his throat, details the plan for last night, and tells of the text I received.

“The rest,” he says, “will speak for itself.” Footage rolls. It’s from my vest and of Jesse describing what’s about to go down. And then it splits as I scream Newton, cutting to the guys fighting. It catches back up with me on the ground and Trevor telling me to get Jesse.

It’s all me, then, getting in the car and getting bashed around. The road streaming past is visible, and Alexia’s screams fill the room. The swerve off-road is jarring and how I’ve lost my eye is obvious. It is smashed to a pulp by Jesse’s hand.

Then there’s my leap, and the ensuing crash is devastating. Then there’s quiet and there’s Alexia.

“We wanted you all to know. We are sorry for the damage we have caused, but we also hope this will help the officers, Alexia, and Ben.”

The video closes and I look at the numbers. It already has twenty-five thousand views.

My parents are horrified. They look like they’ve just identified my body in the morgue. “So it’s true, all this time, you’ve been behind the dares? You and John? And Ricky?” Dad’s voice is low and pressured. He turns from me to Ginny. “And you knew? And you didn’t say anything?”

Ginny looks down and nods.

“Why? For
school
?”

Ginny looks up. “Dad, it’s not that simple. . . .”

He holds up his hand and cuts her off. “No, it’s not.” Dad turns back to me. “Answer my question, Ben. Let’s start there.”

Officer Smith arches his eyebrows in anticipation of my answer.

Shit. There’s no use hiding. “Yeah. It’s how Ricky described it. We’re the Daredevil Crew.” I look up. “I’m sorry.”

Neither of my parents speak. I doubt they know what to say. Officer Smith clears his throat. “Thank you, Ben. It’s a start. There’s going to be an investigation. Some of your dares, especially the one on Halloween, may have broken a few laws.”

Mom gasps.

Officer Smith continues. “Then there’s this O. P., Paul Swenson. We’re investigating his role. He’s already been charged with contributing to the delinquency of a minor. That money you earned, I wouldn’t spend it.”

My head is throbbing and not from my injury. I should have seen this coming from the very start. Maybe I did and looked the other way. And for what? It’s not as if my life was terrible before. Did we really need to go this far? Maybe for the money, but what are we going to do now?

I sit up. “What about Jesse?”

Officer Smith looks me in the eye and there is a glimmer of respect. “Kidnapping. Fortunately for us he’s eighteen and Alexia isn’t. And then there’s the assault charge. For you. I hope he gets a tough judge. At least for now he’ll be in county once he leaves here.”

“He’s here?”

Smith smiles. “Something like two rods and a dozen pins. You almost took his arm off.”

I know by the way he says this I’m supposed to relish the fact, but I don’t. There’s nothing to be happy about in all of this. “Alexia?”

“I don’t know much, only what I told you last night. I’m only dealing with the criminals.”

His words fall around me like a cell. He’s dealing with me, isn’t he? “My friends?”

“All brought in for questioning, like you will be as soon as you’re released. This conversation helped, but . . .” he looks at my parents. “Between you and me I’d get a lawyer, just to be safe. We’re more interested in Swenson and Holmes than we are your son. But the evidence is available online. People will want to see them pay. We can’t have a repeat of this.” He snaps his head to punctuate his statement.

Smith stands, looks around the room. “Folks,” he says, and then looks at me. “Feel better, Ben.” He’s out the door and, oddly, I want him back. Because now I have to deal with my parents.

I’ve fucked it all up. Instead of saving money, now my parents will need to spend more on a lawyer. Instead of working hard to get into college, I now have a police record.

“I’m not going to lie, Ben.” Dad leans on the bed. “I am very disappointed in you and your sister. But mostly you. I don’t understand how you could think your life is of such little value to chance it for recognition? Money? That conversation we had, I thought you were being honest and taking my advice. Seeing the next turn.” He pauses, I think understanding just how this sounds. His voice drops with his next question. “Was that a cover for all of this?”

“Yes, and no. I meant everything I said.”

He grips my shin. “I thought I—we—raised you better. I know recently it’s been rough, but that doesn’t justify . . .” He stops, stares at me. “I want more for you, Ben.
This
is not your path.”

He’s right. I don’t know what that means going forward. But I do know I can’t answer him, because if I speak, I’ll turn into a hot mess of tears, and I can’t bear the pain.

Mom leans in and hugs me tight. “My baby.” She releases me and rubs my face with her fingers. “Do you want to talk?”

I shake my head. “Sleep.” It’s all I can manage.

“We’ll give you some time.” She kisses my forehead, and they stand. Dad shuffles out. “A couple of hours and we’ll be back,” Mom says. Ginny stands next to me, her face white and on the verge of tears.

“Not that you want this now. But I’m going back to school tomorrow.
They’re
making me. So I figured you should have it.” She squeezes my hand. “I’m sorry. Maybe I should have stopped you.” Her voice quavers.

“Don’t. I chose this. You know that.” I squeeze her hand.

“But still. Shit. Forget all the lecturing I did.” Ginny dries her tears with the back of her hand. “You’re messed up Benny Bear, but you’ve got a good heart.” She places her paper on my lap. It’s painful to read the title:
Dare Me: An Exploration into the Self-destructive Adolescent Male Psyche.

She joins my parents in the hall.

I set the paper on the nightstand and curl up on my side. My head races with all that’s happened, all the ways it’s gone wrong. Is there one thing I did right?

Alexia? I don’t know. Because, really, it was my messing with Jesse that put her in this position. And I know why I wanted him to be our scapegoat. The realization makes me gag. I turn over and stare at the ceiling.

Alexia’s in the hospital. We damaged property, scared the shit out of people, and should have died a half-dozen times. Probably would have if we’d made it to ten.

It’s basic physics. Or maybe karma.
For every action . . .