The Believing Game (18 page)

It wasn't the first time I'd considered going to bed with a guy as a declaration of war. But usually, as Dr. Saggurti had painstakingly explained to me, those qualified as hostile acts toward my parents. Not my boyfriend's delusional Narcotics Anonymous sponsor.

Joshua had a two-year head start on me. He brandished twelve steps, meetings up the wazoo, and a shared fondness
for obliterating himself with dangerous substances. Joshua also operated under the banner of a legend that he had created for Addison, in which he could exist as a superhuman warrior. I'm not going to pretend I wasn't intimidated. And because I'd already sworn that the self I gave to Addison would be a better one, I felt a little let down.

But also determined. I looked at myself in the mirror and promised it would be the last time I'd use sex to try to convince someone of my own worth. Once Addison understood and I got him away from all of Joshua's psycho brainwashing, then I would figure out the rest. I wouldn't be able to have a do-over, but I'd find a way to make it special somehow.

On the way back to our room, I heard Hannah Green crying in the guest room. I did. It stopped me and I listened to make sure. And then I decided that I needed to focus on Addison. I didn't barrel in or knock on the door or call out. When I stepped forward, my foot even creaked on the floorboards. So she might have known I was right outside the door and didn't care enough to check or help. That's what I have to live with.

When I got to the room, Addison had turned off the lights and lit candles. I remember worrying about the fact that we were in a log cabin and wondering about the good sense of that and then thinking:
What a way to go.
And then I thought,
That's exactly how my life works — waiting so long to have sex with him and then dying in a burning bed.

When you think about it, sex shouldn't mean so much. It's just one part of his body touching one part of your body. You don't freak out about the first time someone shakes your hand. Or sticks his tongue in your mouth. Except you do. I remember the first time Addison touched my shoulder in class and the first time he grabbed my hand. I certainly recall
our first kiss and the first time I showed him how I could pull down a zipper gently, with my teeth.

And I remember every second of that night. When I tucked into the bed and he wrapped the blanket around us. When the wind blew against the house and knocked at the window's thick glass. When Addison knelt over me and pinned down my hands and kissed my ear. I remember when he realized what clothes I was wearing and what clothes I wasn't and the sharp gasp that felt like a burst of warm air on my neck. I remember all of it and I remember thinking in the back of my mind how crushed Addison would be if he knew I was trying to show him what life could be like, every night, every minute, if he would only give up Joshua.

I have to live with that too.

The next morning, I woke before everyone and made breakfast. I found an old can of oatmeal in the back of a cupboard and mixed it with brown sugar and raisins to try to jazz it up. We'd brought up mix for pancakes, but I didn't feel like standing in front of the griddle like a short-order cook. If Joshua complained, I figured I'd tell him that oatmeal seemed more like army food to me.

Wes slept sort of half-on, half-off the sofa. He'd wrapped a down comforter around himself and arms and legs dangled out. He snored and his head lolled sort of adorably. But the night with Addison had broken the Attractive Asshole spell that Wes had cast over me. I might have meant for it to give Addison a preview of what life might be like waking up next to me each morning, but I also managed to sell myself on the idea. So I stood there in the state-of-the-art kitchen of Sophie's lavish home, fantasizing about seedy motel rooms.

Sophie wandered in first, with her hair sticking out in all directions. She'd clearly packed her supply of fancy nighties. She wore a long ivory gown with this frothy, floor-length robe. It looked like a Tennessee Williams episode of
Bridezillas
. “Good morning, darling. Coffee?”

“I'm working on it.”

She nodded grumpily, saw me examining the silk getup. “It's not mine.”

“A whole new side of Jared, then?”

Sophie climbed up onto one of the kitchen stools. “From Mommie Dearest's closet upstairs.”

“Wow. What would Dr. Saggurti say?”

“Probably between this and me giving you and Addison my parents' bed, she would have a lot to say.”

I put on my best pompous professor voice. “When we feel hostility, our actions display hostility, even if we believe we are presenting a different attitude. Resentment seeps through.”

“Do you buy into that yet?”

“That
yet
sounds ominous.” I felt like saying,
Next you'll tell me that Dr. Saggurti tried to convince you I'm an angel sent down by God.
Instead I said, “So you and Jared …?”

She nodded, then opened a cupboard door to hide behind. “Yeah. Is that crazy? Or utterly predictable?”

“Neither. It's perfect. Maybe inevitable, but only because I think he might have come up here just for you.”

“Not at all.”

“Quite possible.”

“Hmmm.” Sophie seemed to consider it. “I'm pretty hot, after all.” She spun around on the stool. “I'm very flexible.”

“Downright bendy,” I agreed, and we both giggled geekily. “Serious confession, though.” I figured it was the best time as any to come clean about it. “When I first sought you out … well … a lot of it had to do with Addison —”

She cut me off. “Yeah, I know.”

“I mean, he told me how great you were, so I wanted to get to know you, but I also worried and figured that, this way, maybe I could head you off.” It came out all wrong.

“You are so not slick.”

“You knew?” I hadn't meant to earn a nomination for the Awkward Awards, but it appeared I was in the running.

Sophie laughed. “I think everyone within a five-mile radius knew what you were up to.”

“I'm sorry.” I looked her in the eye. Her smile never wavered. “If it's worth anything, I'm so glad. Even if things between Addison and me didn't work out, I'd still be glad.”

“Me too.” Sophie spun again. It's like she found it impossible to handle anything without absolute class. She stopped herself with her palms on the counter and told me, “You weren't wrong. I was gunning for Addison.”

My mouth must have gaped open. “I knew you were! See, I didn't make it up. Joshua says that I make it a practice of preemptively making enemies.”

“Does he say that like it's a bad thing? I don't think it counts as paranoia if you're accurate in your read of the situation. Of course I harbored a secret yearning for Addison — I think most of the female population at McCracken do. Students. Faculty. Lunch ladies. Still, you don't have anything to worry about.”

“Thanks.” I said it simply and went back to stirring the oatmeal.

Joshua's voice rang out as he descended the stairs. “Why are we wasting this day with our sleep?” He tweaked Wes's big toe as he shuffled past the sofa. Joshua wore socks and I worried we'd have to wash his feet again.

Jared stumbled out of the back room next and Addison bounded down the stairs. “Why are you yelling, brother?” Jared asked.

Joshua grinned at us. “That's the first time Jared Polomsky has called me
brother
. We have achieved another breakthrough.”

“'Cause I'm going to kill you, brother.”

“Cain speaks.” Joshua laughed and then grew serious. “What happened to Cain after he killed his brother Abel?”

Wes groaned from under the covers. “Cain went back to bed.”

“The opposite, actually. God doomed him to wander all over the world, and wherever he tried to lay down roots, the people around him learned of what he'd done. He never found another moment of peace. Instead the brother he betrayed haunted him for the rest of his days.” I swore that Joshua was looking at me as he told us.

“I made oatmeal,” I said. Brilliant diversion tactic.

Wes sat up on the sofa. “That doesn't really count as cooking, Greer. That's boiling water. I vote Greer has to do the dishes this time.”

“No, it's not instant. I made it with brown sugar and crushed walnuts and raisins.”

“I was promised pancakes.” Addison started bringing down bowls from the cupboard.

“You got plenty of pancakes last night,” Wes muttered.

“We didn't eat pancakes.”

“I was using
pancakes
as a euphemism for sex.”

“How about cocoa?” Sophie spoke up shrilly. “Let me boil the water for cocoa. Cocoa and marshmallows. Warm and sweet.” She sounded like a maniac.

It was too late. Joshua had already gone and embraced Addison. I watched him whisper something in his ear. Addison smiled at him and then at me. I turned away. Good thing we
finally had a sex life. Now he had something else to share with Joshua.

“How are you, Elizabeth?” Joshua stepped close to me and spoke softly in my ear. I felt like slapping Wes for starting the whole thing.

“I'm good, thank you. Excited for another day.”

“Do you and Addison need more time to yourselves upstairs?” He was trying to get me to react, and then he'd attack me for being embarrassed of my sexuality. I could see a map of the ensuing argument laid out right in front of me.

I tried to step around it. I smiled brightly at Joshua and then the whole rest of the room and said, “Addison and I can always find time for each other.”

“Did we buy this oatmeal? At the supermarket?” At first, I thought that Sophie was just saving me with another distraction. But she'd fished the empty cardboard carton out of the garbage and held it up. That seemed like a lot of effort just to switch the topic. When I saw the look on her face, I knew something was wrong.

“I found it in the cupboard — is that okay?” I asked, even though it was pretty obvious it was anything but okay. “Will someone miss it?”

She struggled to hold it together. “No, it's fine.” We all stared, waiting. Sophie brushed tears from her eyes. “Jeez, guys. Sorry about the melodrama.” But even as she said that, she kind of petted the carton and laid it down gently on top of the garbage bin. I had a pretty good idea of what was wrong, and I felt awful.

I waited until Joshua had focused back on Addison, and then asked her, “It was Nick's?”

She nodded. “It's stupid to make such a big deal of it.” Sophie rolled her eyes at herself. “He'd launched this crazy
cholesterol kick, though. He made a list of old-man foods and that's what he'd eat up here. Steel-cut oats. He spent the whole last grocery run lecturing Josie and me about the heart benefits of steel-cut oats.” She stopped. “I mean, on our last trip up before — not the very last weekend. I'm being ridiculous.”

“You're not. It's a sweet story. I'm sorry — I should have asked.”

“No, what are we going to do, enshrine a carton of oatmeal?”

Joshua spoke to her from across the kitchen. “Nick's care with his health — doesn't that change our interpretation of events, Sophia?”

Her eyes still shimmered a little with tears. “I'm sorry?”

“Well, you don't normally hear about the health kicks of suicides.”

“Holy shit.” Wes seemed to sum up my thoughts exactly. It felt as if Joshua had just tossed a grenade into the breakfast nook.

Jared took a step closer to Sophie. “All right, that's not necessary right now.”

Joshua held up his hands. “I am truly sorry. I didn't mean to upset you, Sophia. Rather, one would expect this kind of news to hold some comfort.”

“I never said I thought my brother killed himself.” Sophie's voice sounded like a thin razor wire.

“Oh no, you just implied it when you mentioned that others had drawn that conclusion.”

“Actually, you brought up that possibility, Joshua. I sat in our living room and listened to you guess about why Nick took the highway that night.” Sophie spoke in lashes. “You asked me why Nick didn't go to town instead. You
asked those questions. I never thought Nickie left us on purpose.”

“I'm so sorry for your pain.” Joshua reached for her hand. “I just remember our conversation differently.”

Sophie snapped back her hand like he had physically hurt her. “I'm going to go straighten up the back bedroom.” She headed out without even looking back and we heard the door in the back of the house slam seconds later.

Joshua shook his head slowly and looked at Jared. “I would have thought that Sophia had a better night than that.” I waited for Jared to haul out and hit him. At least call him an epic asshole. But Jared just took slow breaths, inhaled then exhaled, like he needed to count to ten slowly a few times to calm down. Not the kind of heroics I knew Sophie would expect. More along the lines of Addison's helpless cooperation, actually. Maybe it was contagious. Even Wes concentrated fiercely on his mug of cocoa instead of calling out Joshua on his cruel bullshit.

We were all afraid he'd start picking at our own freshly healed wounds next. Joshua fixed his gaze on me. “Sophia's usually so tough. That just doesn't seem normal for her — dissolving over a carton of oatmeal. That's not typical.”

“Sophie's grieving.”

I heard the threat in Joshua's voice when he told me, “It's really hard to lose people.”

I lost my appetite. It was the first time I'd had a problem with food all weekend. I sat there on a bar stool, with Addison on one side of me and Joshua on the other, struggling to eat a dead kid's oatmeal. “Where's Hannah, Joshua?” I asked him, preparing myself to hear him say something like,
Dismembered in the bathtub.

“She asked to sleep longer. Hannah has experienced so much growth this weekend, but it has sapped her energy. She's truly blossoming with your friendship.” He looked around the room. “I'm glad to have a moment to address this with the group, actually. Jared, bring Sophia back.”

I straightened up, ready to point out that maybe Sophie's energy was pretty sapped also, but Addison stopped me with his hand on my arm. Jared looked miserable, but he still went to fetch her. She stood in the doorway, rigidly.

“Thank you, Sophia. I just wanted to remind everyone how very fragile Hannah is. For some reason” — he seemed to single out Sophie and me for this part — “she doesn't feel completely accepted. She's also worried she's inadvertently offended others here with her honest assessments. We all need to stop being so sensitive.” He stared right at Sophie until she looked down at her feet. “We must begin to support a source of much strength and potential for all of us. If a single member of our circle feels alone, then we have already failed. Is that understood?”

Joshua turned to Addison. “I have something else to share with you. Forgive me. Brother, I have held my own burden.” Addison glanced up toward the top of the staircase, as if to ask if he should wake Hannah. “She knows,” Joshua told him. Addison's brow furrowed, but he didn't question him.

“You may have noticed my weakening state. I've asked for more than I usually do; you've all been so generous to care for me.” I searched the room for reactions, but everyone stayed very still. Addison's face had drained of color. Sophie had folded her arms in front of her chest. Otherwise, no one moved or spoke. Joshua continued, “I'm sorry for withholding
news so important from you. But I valued this weekend. And if this is all the time we have together, then I know we spent it the right way. And I know I've prepared you all to support each other in our future battles. You don't actually need me anymore. And if my condition deteriorates to the point that I become a distraction or a hindrance to our cause, then I will take the steps that I see fit to remedy that situation.” As he announced that last part, Joshua straightened up and bellowed as if arguing against questions we hadn't asked. Then he faltered a little and reached out to steady himself on Sophie.

She propped him up. “Joshua?” He went limp. “Joshua, are you okay?” Sophie braced against his full weight and Jared leapt forward to help her. They dragged Joshua into the living room and settled him into a chair.

“Sophia, I am sorry. But it's so cold in here.”

“Let me get a blanket.” Wes handed over the comforter he had wrapped around him and stood there in boxers and a T-shirt.

I looked at him and he shrugged. “It's actually pretty warm. I was just preserving my modesty.” He padded off to put on clothes.

Addison sat on the stool, with tears running down his face. Joshua said, “Brother, don't waste your time on anger.” Addison shook his head. “Or hurt.” Joshua pointed up. “Last night, I experienced trouble breathing. I fear my fate most at night, in the darkness. In a moment of shaken faith, I confided in Hannah. She tended to me.” Addison brushed the tears from his face. “I would have rather sat you down and shared this with you first. But you've had other things on your mind.” Addison looked down. I waited for him to meet my gaze, but he didn't. “That's certainly no reason to feel
guilty,” Joshua said in a way that seemed to imply that Addison ought to feel extremely guilty. “Life happens when we are busy enjoying it.”