Going Under (26 page)

“Where have I been? Why didn’t Ms. Manning
say anything to me?”

“Because it’s not your business,” Dad said
lightly. “At least not yet.”

“Oh my God! Did you ask her out?!”

“No. I introduced myself, and she seemed to
know more about me than I did. I assume you had something to do
with that.” Dad smirked.

I grinned.

“I didn’t know she lives around here. She
goes to the Y, too,” he said.

“So now
you
go to the Y,” I said.

“I’ve had a membership for months,
Brooke.”

“Ha! One you’ve never used!” I held up my
hands, fingertips touching in a steeple-like gesture. I felt like
Mr. Burns, devising my plan.

“Stop right there,” Dad said.

I dropped my hands. “Oh Dad. This is the
cutest and most disgusting thing ever!”

Dad laughed. “So will you go Thursday night?
She’s gonna be there. We’re gonna work out together.”

“Oh, I’m not missing this for anything,” I
replied.

***

I have to admit that Family Night at the Y
was pretty fun. I ran a mile with Dad around the indoor track
before we moved on to the weight machines. Ms. Manning showed up
during Dad’s set on the biceps machine, and he asked me to increase
his weights.

“No, Dad, I’m not doing that,” I said.

“Brooke, come on,” he begged, but I shook my
head. I would not be responsible for his injury.

“Hi, Brooke,” Ms. Manning said, approaching
us.

“Hi,” I replied, and giggled.

She ignored it, and Dad shot me a look. I
shrugged. “You’ve got another set.”

Dad completed his curls as he talked to
“Johanna.” She was “Johanna” now, and I wondered what she’d say or
do if I called her by her first name. It was obvious Dad was trying
to impress her, lifting his weights and contracting his biceps for
all it was worth. I snickered.

Clearly, they were attracted to each other,
and while their whole show of outward affection was embarrassing, I
couldn’t help feeling a little proud. I talked up my dad
incessantly to Ms. Manning, but I didn’t think she heard a word of
it. Still, it wasn’t all me. Somehow, be it curiosity or craziness,
Dad found the courage to go to her classroom and talk to her.

I spotted Kaylen hanging around the
outskirts of the weight room and excused myself, making a beeline
for her. I didn’t know Ryan’s family were members at the Y.

“Hey,” I said, and she grinned at me.

“I cannot believe you’re dating my brother!”
she squealed. No “hello” back; just right into it.

“Why’s that?” I asked.

“Because he’s my brother! Totally gross.”
Kaylen scrunched her nose at the idea.

I rolled my eyes. “Are you guys members
here?”

“Yeah.”

“You came for Family Night?”

“Duh.”

I exhaled. “So your brother’s here?”

“Gross. And yes he is. He’s in the
pool.”

“The pool?” I had to catch my breath.

“Yes, Brooke. The pool.”

“Thank you, Kaylen,” I said sweetly, and
made my way to the opposite end of the building.

Ryan was in the far lane, and oh my God, he
didn’t have a shirt on. Obviously. In all our make-out sessions, I
had not once seen him shirtless. Yes, I ran my hands over his arms
and chest from time to time, but there’s a big different between
feeling and seeing.

He was in the middle of a swim stroke. I
don’t know the name. He was bobbing in and out of the water, arms
circling overhead. He stopped at the end of the lane on the far
side of the pool and pulled himself up onto the ledge.

Dear God in heaven.

He was beautiful. I thought it was unfair
how beautiful he was. Why does God do that? Make some people so
beautiful that it almost hurts to look at them? Meanwhile the rest
of us look like a bunch of frumps in comparison. I studied my
workout clothes. I actually wore a cute outfit, and I thought I
looked okay, but when I gazed at Ryan, watching the water stream,
curving this way and that over his taut muscles, I instantly felt
ugly. I wanted to leave, but I couldn’t take my eyes off his chest.
I wanted to be crushed underneath of it. And I didn’t want him to
dry off first before he crushed me.

My feet moved instinctively, and before I
knew it, I was standing over him.

“Well, if I would have known you were
coming, I’d have brought my bikini,” I said.

He looked up sharply, staring at me as
though he’d been caught. And then his face relaxed.

“Hey, Brooke,” he said.

“Wow. Goggles and a cap and everything,” I
said. “You’re hardcore.”

“I guess,” he replied, holding the swim
accessories in his hand.

“So what was that last stroke you were
doing?”

He stood up and walked over to a bench to
grab his towel.

“The butterfly stroke,” he said.

“It looks hard,” I replied, watching him dry
off his arms. Now I understood the arms. No wood chopping. Swimming
instead.

“Not my favorite.” He wrapped the towel
around his waist.

“Do you swim a lot?”

He nodded.

“How come you don’t swim for the school?” I
asked. Not that I particularly wanted him to be a part of our swim
team.

He smirked. “You’re full of questions,
aren’t you?”

“Just curious, is all.”

“Well, you know what happened to the cat,”
he teased.

“Lame,” I replied, rolling my eyes, and he
laughed.

“I swim for fun. I don’t swim to compete. I
just do it for me,” Ryan said.

“But you look so good at it,” I said. “I
mean, not that I know the first thing about swimming, but you
looked really good. Good enough to eat. I mean compete! Good enough
to
compete
!” I stared at his chest.

“Oh, Brooklyn,” Ryan said, grinning and
shaking his head. He knew what I wanted and decided to be generous.
He wrapped me in his arms and held me close against his naked
chest. It wasn’t Y appropriate, and I didn’t care. I refrained from
kissing his pecs, however. I had
some
class.

I let myself get lost in his muscles. If I
concentrated hard enough, I could feel each one, pressing into my
shoulders, pressing into my face, my back. I was engulfed in them,
and the slightest movement made them contract, made me heady with
sexual want. His skin was smooth, smelling of his essence mixed
with a hint of chlorine from the pool. Chlorine? No salt system?
This gym was old school.

Ryan released me when his sister
approached.

“I’m so grossed out right now,” she said.
Such a drama queen. But sweet, so I didn’t mind.

“What do you want, Kaylen?” Ryan asked.

It was funny the way he said it, like he was
already exasperated with her and she’d only just arrived. But it
wasn’t mean-spirited. Instead, he seemed to secretly enjoy his
sister’s interruption, and I thought in that moment that he loved
her very much and wouldn’t mind if she kept interrupting him for
the rest of his life.

“You promised you’d show me how to use the
weight machines,” Kaylen said.

“I know.” Ryan didn’t move. He was teasing
her.

“Well?” She put her hands on her hips.

“Well, what?” Ryan asked.

“Are you coming?”

“Coming where?”

“Ryan!” She stamped her foot in
consternation.

He smirked. “Ohhh, you wanted me to show you
now?”

Kaylen looked at him flatly. “Funny,
Ryan.”

He chuckled. “I’ve gotta change first. Why
don’t you two go in there and I’ll meet you in a minute?”

I wanted to follow Ryan into the changing
room, but I think that would have gotten me in major trouble. I
followed his instructions instead and walked with Kaylen to the
weight room.

“Ryan really likes you,” Kaylen said as we
hung around the door waiting for her brother.

“Does he?” I felt my heart flutter.

“Mmhmm. Did you guys paint a picture
together?” she asked.

“Yes. Why?”

“Just curious. Ryan told me but I didn’t
believe him because he can’t draw or paint or do any of those kinds
of things,” Kaylen said. “And the picture’s pretty, so I didn’t
think he helped you.”

I laughed. “Well, he did. Maybe he’ll take
up painting with me,” I suggested.

“If he can find time in his video game
schedule,” Kaylen replied.

I grinned and waved as Ryan approached
thinking I didn’t mind if his gaming schedule left little room for
painting as long as he included me when he played.

Sixteen

“Good afternoon, Ms. Manning,” I said,
sliding into my usual seat. I was fifteen minutes early for class.
I didn’t feel much like eating in the cafeteria. I knew this was
Ms. Manning’s planning period and thought I’d like to chat with her
instead.

“May I help you, Brooke?” she asked.

“Yes, you can, as a matter of fact,” I
replied.

She drew in her breath and stared at me.

“I would like to know what you’ve done to my
father,” I said. “Because all of a sudden he’s running and stocking
the fridge with disgusting healthy food and singing in the shower.
Yes, I heard him the other day singing in the shower. And it was
terrible.”

Ms. Manning giggled. A grown woman giggled.
I raised my eyebrows in disbelief.

“Brooke, I’m not discussing this with you,”
she said.

“Ms. Manning, come on! Did he ask you out on
a date?”

“None of your business.”

“Do you like him?”

“Brooke, please.”

“Am I gonna get A’s on all my papers in your
class from now on?”

“Brooke!” She looked outraged, if a person
can look outraged when she’s smiling.

I thought I’d keep goading her.

“I just figured that if you’re gonna marry
my dad someday, I should get A’s in your class. Seems fair to me. I
set you up.”

“Who said anything about marriage?!” she
cried.

“Ms. Manning, these are progressive times,
but I’m old school. I cannot allow you to live with my father in
sin. You have to be married first before you live together.”

“Brooklyn Wright! This is completely
inappropriate!”

I smirked but kept quiet.

“Now, if you choose to stay in here until
class starts, then you have to be quiet. I’m grading papers. I
don’t have time to talk about your father who happens to be taking
me out this Friday night.” She didn’t look up from her work, but I
saw the tiniest smile playing on her lips.

“Got it,” I replied, and thought about all
the advice I needed to give my father before his big date.

***

I weighed my options. I really didn’t have
options, but I pretended to. It was completely unfair, but I had to
stop being so freaking selfish for at least one night out of my
life. I would have had the house to myself—Ryan to myself—and the
thought left me feeling desperate and empty. And then I remembered
Melanie and Taylor, two girls I was positive would be at the party,
and I couldn’t throw them to the wolves. I had information, and I
had to act on it. The worst timing possible, but then I thought
maybe this was character building. I would not sacrifice those
girls to sex they didn’t want just so that I could have the sex I
wanted.

“Cal’s having a party, and we’re going,” I
said to Gretchen over the phone Friday afternoon.

“We are?” she asked. “Why?”

“Because I know some girls who will be
there, and they happen to be players for the current game,” I
replied. “I want to keep an eye on them.”

“Ohhh,” Gretchen said. There was a pause
before she continued. “You know, Brooke, you can’t keep them all
safe all the time.”

“I know, Gretchen. But I can in this
instance. I know who will be there, and I have a pretty good idea
what will happen if I’m not there to stop it.”

“So what happens after that? You’ll keep
attending parties? Thwarting these guys’ plans? Eventually they’ll
get what they want. You can’t be everywhere at once. You can’t go
on their dates with them. You need to take this shit to the
media.”

I sighed with frustration. “Gretchen, I’m
working on it. But I’m not ready to expose anyone yet. I don’t have
enough information. Will you please be patient?”

Gretchen huffed. “How do you know Cal even
wants us there? I mean, after that date and all?”

“He invited me,” I replied.

“He did?”

“Yep. Today after school,” I said. “He seems
to think the date went rather well.”

Gretchen burst out laughing.

“Is he deluded?” she asked.

“What do you think?” I replied.

Gretchen grunted. “He makes my skin crawl. I
don’t know how I’ll face him after what you told me.”

“I know, but you’ve got to play it cool.
Don’t mess this up for me, Gretchen,” I warned.

“I won’t! Calm down. It’s just frustrating
knowing something so horrible about a person and feeling powerless
to do anything about it,” Gretchen said.

I thought for a moment. “Yeah. How do you
think those girls feel?”

“You think the others are drugging girls as
well?” Gretchen asked.

“I do.”

“How many do you think there are?”

“Well, I can’t find any concrete evidence on
Parker yet. He’s a sneaky son-of-a-bitch. But I think he’s one. And
I think this Tim guy is another. Actually, I know he is.”

“How?” Gretchen asked.

“A girl at school told me,” I said.

“She did?!” Gretchen sounded shocked.

“I was disgusted by what she told me. It
made my heart sick.” I recounted the conversation with Amelia,
leaving out her name. Gretchen and I sat in silence for a time.

“That poor girl,” she whispered. “She won’t
come forward?”

“I think maybe she would if others would.
Strength in numbers kind of thing,” I replied.

Gretchen sighed. “I’ve never gone to a party
with any other purpose than to get drunk and have fun. This feels
weird.”