Authors: Nikki Urang
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Coming of Age, #The Hit List
I can’t focus in nutrition class. Tryouts are only a few hours away. It’s dumb to even be here. No one will be paying attention.
“Has anyone seen Monica?” Miss Taylor looks worried.
No one answers her. A few students shrug their shoulders. A guy up front high-fives another guy.
“I heard she’s a wreck. Like nervous breakdown material,” Jessie says to Kate in front of me.
“Class doesn’t start for two more minutes. Maybe she’s late,” Kate says.
I lean forward in my seat so I can hear more of their conversation.
Jessie waves off Kate’s doubt. “I heard she slept with Brandon and then found out he used her to get points in The Hit List. Now she won’t come out of her room. You can hear her crying when you walk by.”
Kate’s brow creases in worry. “That’s terrible. Has anyone checked on her?”
“Who knows? She probably won’t answer the door.” Jessie smiles, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “I hooked up with a boy who told me he’ll split the money with me if he wins.”
Kate glances back at me, noticing me watching. “Can you believe this?” she asks, including me in the conversation.
“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” I ask. It wasn’t too long ago that Jessie and Rebecca fought in this very classroom.
Jessie shakes her head. “Not after he slept with some other girl. This was payback. It just happened to be sweeter than I was expecting.”
Kate slides down lower in her chair. “You believed him? He probably just wanted sex.”
“He’s not like that.” Jessie crosses her arms, looking defensive.
“They’re all like that,” Kate says.
“Don’t you think it’s kind of sketchy that he told you he’s playing that game? Even if he does split the money with you, he still had sex with you for points.” Does nothing about this situation strike her as abnormal?
“I’ve known him forever. He’s a good guy.” She raises an eyebrow, like that’s all the proof we need that he’ll pay her.
Because good guys totally sleep with girls for points in sex games. It’s completely legit.
This conversation is pointless. The game doesn’t even exist anymore. “You do know the blog got shut down, right? No one is even playing anymore.”
Jessie laughs. “I guess you haven’t seen the flyers then.”
“What flyers?”
“There are flyers all over campus. Someone else is keeping track of points and stuff in the absence of the blog. They have an email account set up and they email out updates if you sign up with them.” Jessie twirls her hair around her finger as she talks.
What the fuck? I thought we were done with this.
“Is that how they did it last year? Did you guys know anything about it?”
Jessie frowns. “No, I think they kept it pretty low key.”
“Did you hook up with anyone last year that you think could have been playing?” I don’t really expect an answer. I know it’s weird that I’m even asking. I don’t really know either of these girls.
“I hooked up with Luke Morrison.” Jessie smiles like she’s reliving the moment.
Kate rolls her eyes. “Everyone hooked up with Luke Morrison.”
Jessie raises an eyebrow. “Did you?”
“No.”
Kate and Jessie continue arguing, but I’m off in my own world. If the game is still going, that means people will still play. And that means I still have to put up with assholes hitting on me.
I’m still worth points. I can’t trust any of the guys’ motives for talking to me. Luke might be playing. Hell, he might even be running it. At least three girls on the list have some sort of history with Luke. How many other girls do too? That can’t be a coincidence.
I can’t think about this right now.
Every time I think about what’s going on with the game, it leads to doubts about Luke. If I let myself get pulled down by this, I won’t survive tryouts. Right now, I choose to believe Luke has no involvement and he’s just a flirt. I focus on our time at the pier in Avila, on the moment everything changed, on the moment I chose to trust him.
It’s a quarter to three when I enter the auditorium. Everyone is there, including Miss Catherine, and they all turn to look when the door slams behind me.
“Now that everyone has joined us, we can start. I want everyone in the first three rows. Move if you have to.”
She walks to the front of the auditorium and sits at a table. Miss Tasha, Brandon, and the other teachers and assistants are seated already. Students shuffle between seats, most moving toward the front of the auditorium. I glance over the rows, but all the seats are taken. Seriously?
“Have a seat, Ms. Bryant. We’re waiting,” Miss Catherine says.
I narrow my eyes and open my mouth to ask her where exactly she would like me to sit, but Luke tugs on my hand hard and I fall into his lap.
“Don’t even think about challenging her,” he whispers in my ear as I try to sit up straight. He helps me as I perch at the edge of his knees. It takes every muscle in my body to keep from falling off.
“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that this is one of the most important auditions in your lives. Getting selected for Fall Showcase means a chance at dancing in front of some of the biggest talent scouts on the west coast. Most of you will walk away with a job.” She scans the auditorium, giving us all a couple of seconds to let her words sink in.
Students stare at the front of the auditorium. Adam bounces his feet against the ground. It shakes the nearby seats. Brielle puts her hand on his knee to get him to stop. He starts fidgeting with his hand instead.
The girl sitting in front of us sighs and twirls her hair around her fingers. Nervous energy.
“Let’s discuss some rules. There will be no talking during auditions. I’m going to read the order of dances. Keep track of your number. You may stretch in the aisles a couple dances before your turn,” Miss Catherine says.
She reads through the list of fifteen pairs. Luke and I are tenth. I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s too stressful to be one of the first ones up.
“Group One, you have ten minutes to warm up before we begin. Auditions will start promptly at three,” she says.
Students break out into quiet chatter around me. Groups One and Two get up and move to the aisles to stretch. I want to go take one of their seats, but Luke’s hand on my arm stops me.
“Relax,” he says. “Why are you so tense? We’re going to be fine.”
“I know.” I press my fingers against my temple, trying to ward off the headache that’s forming.
It’s been a long day already and I just want to finish tryouts so I can go back to my room. I can’t help thinking about all the guys in this room who might be playing the new version of The Hit List. Probably a lot of them. Half of them have hit on me at some point. Nothing would stop them from joining the new game.
How many of the girls here have already lost something as a result of the game? I know I’ve seen several of them with guys, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Still, how many of them are carrying the weight of a broken heart or shattered pride around with them now?
Luke’s hand runs up my leg. “What’s wrong?” His face is etched with concern.
I can’t think of a coherent response to his question with his hand on my leg. It takes all my energy to keep my body still right now. “Just a headache.”
His hand finds my back and he starts rubbing in circles. I close my eyes against the sensation while I wait for tryouts to begin. The circles on my back become my focus. If he doesn’t stop soon, I’m not going to be able to dance. I’ll be lying on the floor. But I don’t want him to stop. Every time he touches me, it means something. He doesn’t do it just to do it. It’s always to comfort me or make me feel better.
The music starts and Group One takes the stage. Technically, they’re good, but they don’t draw me in. I can’t focus on their dancing as much as Luke’s hands.
His hand moves to my neck, the pressure reducing minimally. It keeps moving up to the base of my skull. I lean back slightly so he can reach my head better. His fingers thread through my hair and he slowly massages my scalp. I don’t notice that I’ve leaned all the way back until I feel his chest pressed against my back and shoulders.
It feels right to have him pressed against my back. I want to stay in this moment forever. Screw tryouts. Luke is better.
Luke’s left hand drops and he laces his fingers through my left hand. His right hand massages slow circles on the crown of my head.
I glance to my right and meet Brielle’s stare two rows in front of us. She smiles at me before turning back around to watch the stage. No other students even give us a sideways glance. They’re either too nervous or too engrossed in the dancing to care what we’re doing.
“Better?” he whispers, his breath on my ear.
“Much. Thank you.” I can’t move. I’m so perfectly relaxed, I don’t think I’ll ever move again.
“Good.”
His lips brush against my cheek. It takes me by surprise, but they’re gone before my mind works well enough to say anything. I won’t allow myself to get tense after he’s done such a wonderful job relaxing me.
The dances fly by and soon we’re sitting in the aisle, stretching and waiting for our turn. It’s too narrow to sit side by side so Luke sits directly across from me. I avoid eye contact, trying to focus on the dance instead of on all the feelings I’m having for him.
“Group Ten, you’re up,” Miss Catherine calls from the table at the front of the auditorium.
Luke gets up and offers me his hand, but I use the chair next to me to pull myself up instead. He frowns, but doesn’t say anything. We climb up onto the stage and I glance over at Miss Tasha and Brandon, who sit next to each other. Miss Tasha watches us from her place at the table. Her eyes hold a warning and I know we’ll hear an earful if we mess this up. Brandon looks bored by us already. I’m going to prove them wrong.
“Ready?” Miss Catherine asks.
I take my place on the bench in the center of the stage. Luke walks into the wings off stage. The guitar chords of our music fill the auditorium, echoing off the walls. Luke walks toward me and the look on his face is enough to tell me that he’s let down his wall.
Everything comes together in that moment. All the touches, the closeness, the vulnerability. I would risk myself for Luke. I would break my rule of never getting close to anyone again. For him.
When I jump into his arms, electricity shoots through me, shocking my system. And when he pushes away from me, when we’re so far apart that his fingers slip through mine and we’re no longer connected, I feel the break and I want to be back in his arms again.
We dance with an intensity we’ve never had before. Every position, every lift, every feeling. I’m not acting anymore. Luke’s eyes burn into mine. And instead of feeling the dance and waiting for the comfort of falling into the correct positions at each step, I find myself more focused on expressing myself. Through Luke.
The dance ends and applause erupts around us. Miss Tasha and Brandon are on their feet, along with half the students in the audience. My face heats against the unexpected attention. Luke grabs my hand and raises it over his head, ready to bow. I look over at him, smiling. His eyes are filled with affection and my smile falls. I gaze back at him, confused.
And suddenly it dawns on me. Despite my trust issues, I’ve fallen for Luke. I can’t keep telling myself that it’ll go away or that I’ll stop wanting to kiss him. I don’t want either of those things to happen. I have no idea what I’ve gotten myself into.
14
The line to Crave is long, but I wouldn’t expect anything less on a Friday night. I’m not really sure what people crave when they come here, but if it’s half-naked women and guys that think they’re famous, then they’re in the right place.
Crave is packed. Wall-to-wall bodies fill the dance floor. Electronic beats vibrate off the walls and bounce around in my chest. It jump-starts my heart and I can no longer distinguish between my pulse and the music.
“I need a drink,” Brielle yells.
Grabbing my hand, she drags me behind her to the bar and screams an order at the bartender. Less than a minute later, she places a pink drink in my hand.
“What is this?” I yell.
“Lighten up, Sadie. We’re celebrating,” Adam says, bumping his shoulder against mine.
He’s right. Tonight is about celebrating. All three of us made it into Fall Showcase.
“Does it matter? Try it. You’ll like it,” she yells back.
Here’s to fake IDs and persistency. I take a sip of the pink liquid. It’s fruity and bitter at the same time, but not horrible. I take a bigger swallow.
“Good girl,” Brielle says.
The music changes and Brielle bounces beside me, her drink sloshing over the side of her glass. She doesn’t seem to notice. “I love this song.”
She grabs me again and pulls me onto the dance floor. I drain my glass and set it on a table as we make our way to the center of the club. Brielle raises one arm over her head and sways to the music. I feel a body close behind me and I turn around.
Adam hands me a glass with yellow liquid in it. “Wow, Brielle. You make sure you have a drink, but you don’t worry about Sadie?”
Brielle pouts. “I got her one, too. Where’s your drink?” she asks, looking at me.