Games Frat Boys Play (26 page)

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Authors: Todd Gregory

BOOK: Games Frat Boys Play
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So, I'm just a sad, pathetic loser, huh, Chad?
I thought to myself.
We'll just see who the sad, pathetic loser is, you worthless piece of shit. When I'm done with you, you'll be sorry you were ever born. Your days of using and abusing people are over. I'm going to see to it that you're punished, once and for all.
I picked up my cell phone, and texted Dante:
Hey, babe, Brandon just left. You up for some company?
He answered almost immediately:
Sorry, I'm tired. And something came up on Sunday.
I stared at the message.
Was he blowing me off?
I got up and walked into my study. Tapping the phone against my chin, I e-mailed the paper to Brandon.
Jay was fired today. Now Dante's blowing me off.
Maybe I was just being paranoid, but—
I scrolled through my in-box. Most of it was junk, but there was one from one of the brothers—Bobby Dunlap. I frowned. Bobby was a nice guy, but we weren't exactly buddies. He liked to gossip too much. The saying around the house was “telephone, telegram, tell Bobby.”
There was a file attached to it.
I clicked the e-mail open. The only message was
Have you seen this yet?
My heart sinking, I saw it was a video file. I clicked to download it, and when it opened—
It was me and Jay in the steam room.
I clicked it closed.
Everyone at the house has probably seen this.
I fought down the panic.
Chad.
It had to be Chad.
My jaw set.
Okay, then, so that's how it's going to be, so be it.
Let the games begin.
Chapter 12
I
woke up the next morning feeling a lot better about everything.
I sat up in the bed and glanced over at my alarm. It was almost ten. I turned on my iHome and yawned as Lady Gaga's “Paparazzi” began playing. It was a particularly apt song, I thought, given as it was about stalking. The sun was shining in through my windows—it was a beautiful morning. My bed felt comfortable, and I thought about staying in bed and trying to go back to sleep for another hour or so, but dismissed it. I had a lot of damage to repair, and lying in bed wasn't going to get any of it done.
And I could smell coffee brewing. I'd set the automatic timer on my coffeemaker before going to sleep, and the aroma was too much to resist.
I got out of bed and walked into the bathroom, then washed my face and brushed my teeth. I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled at my reflection. “Today,” I said to my image, “you're going to kick some serious ass, take no prisoners, and make some people sorry they were ever born.”
It was a good feeling.
I shook my head, wondering at how worked up I'd been the night before. At first, I hadn't been able to fall asleep—which wasn't a surprise. As I'd lain there in bed, staring at the ceiling, with Brandon's smell still clinging to my sheets, I ticked off on my fingers everything that had gone wrong: a video of me messing around with Jay in the steam room at the gym circulating on the Internet, Jay getting fired, and apparently my fledgling relationship with Dante was over before it could begin. It was pretty safe to assume that Dante may have seen the video. It was also safe to assume that Rees had told Chad about Dante and me.
Chad, Chad, Chad—it always came back to Chad, didn't it?
How could I have ever thought I was in love with him?
I'd sighed, resisting the urge to pound my head against the wall. I'd ignored the truth about him from the very beginning because I was so fucking attracted to him, overlooking his cruelties and bitchy little remarks. But in fairness, he'd played me. The question was,
why?
Brandon said it was because of the money, but that didn't make any sense to me. He'd never asked me for money. When we went out, we took turns buying drinks. When we went out to eat, we took turns paying. I'd been very careful to not make the difference in our financial situations apparent. Maybe that was it—maybe Chad had expected me to pay for everything and he resented that I didn't? But that didn't make any sense, either.
I'd kept tossing and turning, watching shadows from the moon dancing on the ceiling.
You'll never know what his motivations were,
I had finally told myself,
and ultimately, it doesn't matter. You never did anything to him to justify what he's done. And it was one thing when he was just pulling shit on you—but he got Jay fired, and that's unforgivable. Jay never did anything to him. He didn't even know Jay.
And yes, we shouldn't have done it in the steam room. It was the first time I'd ever done anything like that, and maybe Jay did make it a habit—which logically meant he
should
have been fired.
But making a video of us and circulating it on the Web? That was bullshit—utter and complete bullshit. Maybe it seemed funny at the time, but that kind of shit could haunt someone for the rest of his life. That, I think, was what made me the angriest. It didn't hurt me in the long run. I was never going to have to worry about getting a job, and I certainly had no plans to ever run for public office.
But Jay was a personal trainer, and what gym would hire him knowing he had blown a client in the last gym where he worked? And even if they didn't know and hired him, he'd always have to worry it might turn up sometime.
Jay was a great guy. He'd turned me from an out-of-shape nerd boy into someone who turned heads whenever he walked into a gay bar. He'd always been nice to me, except for that last training session when he'd been so distant and cold—and maybe
that
was because he already knew about the video.
Chad has to pay,
I'd thought, closing my eyes,
and tomorrow morning you can figure it all out. It was one thing to come after me, but destroying other people to get at me? No, that couldn't go unpunished. And you know exactly what to do, and how to do it.
And with that enormously satisfying thought, I had been able to fall asleep.
I took a shower and then took my coffee out onto the balcony. I sat down on the wicker love seat and closed my eyes for a moment. It was very peaceful out there, and my mind flashed back to Dante's backyard.
I need to get some wind chimes here,
I thought with a pang. My heart hurt at the thought of Dante. I really liked him. It could have led to something special.
You're getting ahead of yourself,
I thought.
Just because he didn't want you to come over last night and canceled Sunday doesn't mean anything. Something else may have come up, and the timing with all the rest of this bullshit was just bad.
As much as I wanted to believe that, I knew.
I smiled.
Poor, stupid Chad was about to get it between the eyes—so enjoy your little triumph while you still can, you fucking bitch.
I wasn't going to have my gym membership suspended, and I knew I could get Jay's job back. I picked up my cell phone and made the call to get the ball rolling. “As soon as possible,” I instructed. “Preferably today. I'll be waiting for your call.” I smiled as I disconnected the call. I stroked my chin with the edge of my phone.
Money, indeed, was
power
.
And that was it for the video. Who fucking cared if it went viral on the Internet? So what? It was just two sweaty guys in a steam room going down on each other. Big fucking deal. The picture quality wasn't that great, and in fact, you could barely tell it was me and Jay. The only people it would be of interest to would be people we knew. I sent Jay another text:
Jay, I'm taking care of everything. I will call you later once everything is fixed. Don't worry. Hope you're okay. Jordy.
I got a second cup of coffee and was just sitting back down when my phone chirped. I clicked on the message from Jay:
Hey man, sorry about everything, this whole mess is my fault and I need to own up to it. I'm freaked out and don't know what I'm going to do, but I'm sure I'll come up with something.
I shook my head and texted back:
Just sit tight, babe. I'm handling everything.
My phone chirped again while I was answering him. I clicked on the new message and smiled. It was from Brandon:
Thanks again for last night. Man, that was some hot sex! And thanks for the paper. I just e-mailed it in.
Another piece fell into place—one I hoped I wouldn't have to use.
I did like Brandon—and he'd told me the truth about Chad.
But if I had to, I would.
I called Dante, but he didn't pick up. “Dante, hey, this is Jordy, can you give me a call when you get a moment? We need to talk.” I ended the call and sat there, watching the pool. There was someone lying out there on one of the reclining deck chairs, and I thought it might be Jeff, but I couldn't tell for sure. Blair's car wasn't in the parking lot. It was calm and peaceful on the balcony. There was a nice cool breeze blowing, the sun was shining, and the sky was blue. I appreciated the solitude—Dante was right. Having a place you could go and be peaceful was helpful.
Definitely need to get some wind chimes,
I thought again. I felt another pang about him. But maybe it wasn't too late to rescue that—and I reminded myself there was a slight chance Dante hadn't seen the video.
I stood up and stretched.
But if that's what it is—if Dante saw the video and wants nothing to do with you now—then he wasn't who you thought he was in the first place, and do you want to have a relationship with someone that judgmental?
Definitely food for thought there.
I got another cup of coffee and sat down at my computer. I wanted to watch the video again, just to be on the safe side. I needed to know a few things before I made my next call.
This time, I clicked the video player to full-screen mode. When it started playing, I watched carefully. Something had bothered me when I watched it the first time, but I'd be unable to put my finger on what it was. That was partly, I now realized, because I'd been in so much shock I hadn't been able to think clearly—to think anything besides
oh, my God.
But now, as it started, I was able to put my finger on exactly what had bothered me the first time I'd viewed it.
I distinctly remembered that the outer glass wall of the steam room, looking out into the shower area, had been fogged up. I hadn't been able to see through it. When I'd been sitting in there, I had no idea Jay was even out there until he opened the door and walked inside. So how had someone in the locker room seen what we were doing, let alone been able to tape it? The girl at the front desk had said someone had seen us from the locker room.
That wasn't possible.
And as the video started again, I smiled to myself.
At the start of the video, you could see me from above and behind. I was sitting on the first row of benches with my feet on the floor. There was steam swirling in the room, but you could see me relatively clearly. After about three seconds, the door to the steam room opened and Jay walked in, naked, and sat down next to me.
There had been no one else in the steam room when I had walked in, so whoever had taped this had
not
been in there. I clicked the video player closed—I was all too familiar with what happened next—and thought for a moment. I closed my eyes, leaned back in my desk chair, and tried to recall exactly what the back wall of the steam room looked like. Obviously, whoever had shot the video had some kind of peephole into the steam room. Unfortunately, I couldn't remember everything about the back wall—I'd never had any reason to pay any attention to it. That was a useless line of thought.
Well, then, what's behind the wall?
I pictured the gym again. It was a stand-alone building, with a parking lot in the front that continued around for more parking on either side and parking in the back. The front wall was all glass. The cardio equipment was lined up along the front windows so you could look out onto Shaw Avenue while you worked out. The front two-thirds of the building was devoted to the weight area. The front desk was located in the center of the weight area, and it was round with refrigerated cabinets below that stocked water, protein and energy drinks, and assorted protein bars. The locker rooms were in the back—the men's on the left side, the ladies' on the right. Separating the locker rooms were office spaces and the storage room.
I raised an eyebrow. Either the storage room or someone's office had a peephole into the men's steam room.
And I was pretty sure Body Quest's owners wouldn't want
that
to become public knowledge.
The next question was, who actually shot the video?
Someone who had access to the offices and the storage room. It had to be someone who worked there.
I laughed. I knew exactly who'd done it.
I picked up my phone and made the call I needed. I asked the right questions and got the answers I'd expected. I hung up and smiled again.
Money was indeed power.
I poured what was left in my coffeepot into my mug and walked back out onto the balcony. My father had once advised me, “Anytime you're in a situation where you get emotional or start to panic, the most important thing to remember is to calm down and put your emotions to the side—and think logically. Logical thought will almost always get you out of any situation. Logic never fails. Your emotions will cause you to make mistakes every time. Don't shut them down completely—you don't ever want to become one of those people who don't feel anything. That's a living death. But you don't want to ever make a decision based on emotions. That only works out if you get lucky, but ninety-nine times out of a hundred you'll wind up worse off than you were before. Never forget that.”
I sat back down on the wicker love seat on the balcony and picked up my phone again. I dialed Dante's number and got his voice mail again. I sighed, and then sent him a text.
I don't know what's going on but we need to talk.
It was entirely possible I was overreacting, but it was weird how he'd gone from hot to cold so quickly.
Logic.
Bobby Dunlap had sent me the steam room video. I went back inside and pulled up my e-mail account. I clicked on his e-mail and checked. Yes, I'd been blind copied. The time stamp on the e-mail showed it had been sent around seven-thirty Friday night. I rolled my eyes and opened an Internet-tracking program.
Stupid, stupid people,
I thought.
My father wrote programs and had his own programming company. Do you honestly think I can't find out just about anything I want to through a computer? I was using computers before I was five. I've forgotten more about computers—and the Internet—than you'll ever know. And I have access to software your average Joe does not.

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