Breathing Underwater (15 page)

After the homecoming game, the girls retreated to a top-secret location for their sorority initiation, and the guys, in time-honored tradition, crashed it. Five of us piled into my car and drove to Jessica Schweitzer’s house
.

The night was extra dark. My car was filled with the stink of guys fresh from a football game. We pulled off the causeway and into the network of winding side streets. Saint and Zack were arguing about the smell. Zack started out sniffing the air, asking if something had died in the trunk. Finally, he said, “You guys reek.”

“We smell like men—wuss!” Saint raised both arms and sniffed his pits. “Just because you’re not a player.”

Zack said, “I know. It brings tears to my eyes—No, that’s your stench doing that.” He demanded to know why we hadn’t showered after the game. Saint said our post-game aroma was the girls’ punishment for blowing us off
.

Finally, I pulled over to put the top down. I sympathized. I’d showered at halftime, warmed the bench second half. I wasn’t a player either, not in any meaningful sense. When I started the car again, Tom held up two liquor bottles, yelling, “Attitude adjustment hour!” He downed half of one before handing it to Zack. By the time it got to me, it was empty, and Tom was singing his brother’s fraternity songs. He got raunchier on the second bottle. Tom didn’t usually drink much
.

We reached the Schweitzers’ street. Everyone shut up except Tom. Stealth was key, so I cut the lights. Tom was giggling; Dane, equally wasted, tried to shut him up. I pulled behind a line of cars. We closed our doors with barely a click and crept across the dark asphalt. Ahead, I saw Zack’s silhouette. He dangled an object. I shined my flashlight and saw it was a camera. “In case they’re naked,” he whispered. We’d all heard about the sorority at U.M. where they danced nude around a campfire
.

“We’re not that lucky,” Saint whispered back
.

I laughed, but my body reacted differently, and I was glad it was dark
.

We reached the house. Lights flickered in an upstairs window. There was a tall orchid tree beside it. Tom stumbled forward and commanded us to help him up. Dane pulled him away—Tom was too trashed for climbing. And Zack griped about how there could be poisonous caterpillars in the orchid tree. Finally, Saint said, “No guts, no glory,” and while the others argued over who was drunker, Saint hoisted himself onto a limb and climbed to the open window
.

I shone my flashlight. The tree sagged under Saint’s weight. He gave us a thumbs-up, and Zack handed Saint the camera. But Saint climbed down a minute later, saying, “Nick, they’re bringing in Caitlin.” I climbed up and looked in
.

Red candles flickered on the windowsill. The Sphinxes, dressed in black, formed a circle with Caitlin, blindfolded and wearing white, at its center. Finally, Whitney Brockman, the sorority president, stepped from the circle. She started talking about the symbolism of the Sphinx and how only the enlightened and pure could know her secrets
.

“Some people will have to settle for enlightened,” Ashley whispered. Everyone giggled. Whitney silenced them with a look. She took this way too seriously
.

Next, Jessica and Peyton brought soap and water. Jessica held the basin while Peyton washed Caitlin’s hands. Whitney talked about how it was the hour for cleansing, physical and spiritual. She commanded each of them to cleanse their minds by telling Caitlin their secrets. “I shall begin.”

She reached for a candle, and I ducked under the windowsill, smoke stinging my nose. Whitney paused before speaking again
.

“Those weight-loss camps never work, Caitlin,” Whitney said. “You’ll be fat again by summer.”

She passed her candle to Jessica, who said, “Even thin you’re ugly.”

I’d have thought it would have been something more “spiritual,” but apparently, the idea was to unload on Caitlin. One by one, each Sphinx told her what they thought about her—and it was never good. I looked up from the windowsill to see Caitlin’s face. Her lips were parted, but she said nothing
.

When the candle got to Peyton, she said, “You think you’re big ’cause you won Homecoming Princess, but you got picked because the geeks voted for you. You’re Queen Geek, aren’t you, Caitlin? We only keep you around because of Nick.” She passed the candle to Ashley
.

“Speaking of Nick…” The candlelight glowed wildly against Ashley’s auburn hair. “Well, just ask where he got those scratches on his back.” The group laughed as she displayed her long, purple nails
.

I could tell by Cat’s clenching hands that she believed it, all of it. Ashley smirked and passed the candle on. It traveled that wide circle, everyone telling Caitlin how stupid, ugly, and fat she was. Caitlin’s eyes were still covered, but her hands worked on her skirt. Her mouth set and contorted. Even her head seemed heavy for her slim body. My own legs felt massive beneath me, like they’d soon fail and force me to earth with them. Around the circle, Ashley and some others smiled. A few fidgeted. None looked at Caitlin. If they had, they couldn’t have said what they said
.

“We saw your mom last week at Publix.” Morgan Davis nudged her friend, Tiffany. “God, Caitlin, tell her to get some normal clothes and act her age. I’d be so embarrassed if I was you.”

Tiffany completed the thought. “Really, who does she think she is, Madonna?”

Cat raised a hand to her eyes, shaking. At the same time, something stung my shoulder. Then, my back. I remembered my friends on the ground and looked. Zack and Saint threw pebbles at me
.

“Give us a chance,” Zack hissed
.

I turned back in time to see Caitlin lose it. Whitney extinguished the candle. The room was silent. Whitney embraced Caitlin and smiled, saying, “But no matter what we say…”

“We love you anyway,” the group chorused. They descended on Caitlin, hugging and kissing her. Peyton and Ashley held her longest. Cat kept crying. I climbed down and told the guys I thought they were coming out
.

“Way to hog the seat.” Zack gave me a sissy punch. “You didn’t even take pictures.”

“I’ll buy you a Playboy, you little perv.” I punched him back, but hard. He fell to the ground and looked at me, shocked. Saint demanded to know what was with me, but I ignored him. I snuck to the front of the house, the others following. We peered around the corner, waiting for the girls
.

When they came, the pledges were still blindfolded, six in all, each led by two Sphinxes. Caitlin walked between Ashley and Peyton, her mouth a thin line. Beside them, Liana stood straighter, almost daring anyone to screw with her. The Sphinxes deposited the pledges on the brick doorstep between two columns. They walked toward a grove near where we’d hidden the car
.

“What do we do?” Saint whispered
.

I silenced him with a look, then crept across the damp, dark grass and stood in the flower bed. I felt cold sober. The others followed
.

In the porch light’s glow, Liana nudged Caitlin. “That you,
Gatita?
”

Caitlin sniffled
.

“Don’t let them get to you.” Liana started to say something else, but Tom clapped his hand over her mouth. I grabbed Caitlin. Tom jerked his hand away. He stared at it, stunned
.

“You bit me,” he said
.

“You stink,” Liana said. “And you’re drunk.”

Tom laughed. “Drunk enough to do this!” He slung Liana across his shoulder and went after a freshman
.

By now, they were screaming, but not really screaming. Caitlin didn’t scream at all, though. She ripped off her blindfold and smiled at me as we grabbed the other girls and half-dragged, half-carried them toward the car. They’d stopped shrieking except Melissa Bruce, who beat on Saint so bad, he let go. She ran back to the doorstep
.

“Stupid,” I said to Saint
.

“Hey, I’m not
really
kidnapping anyone.”

We ran. Finally, we reached the road’s end and stopped. Someone was sitting in the Mustang. I shined the flashlight. Whitney dangled my keys, Jessica sitting next to her
.

“Not too bright, leaving these,” Whitney said. She rammed them into the ignition and roared down the road. We put the girls down and ran. Liana and Caitlin had their blindfolds off and followed us. The others stood in the dark street until Saint and Zack went back
.

After a minute, Tom said he bet they’d just drive around the block. They wouldn’t steal my car. I said they’d better not, and we slowed to a walk, singing “The Gang Bang Song” for the entertainment of Jessica’s neighbors. When we reached the house, the Sphinxes clustered on the doorstep. My car was near the walkway. I found Whitney and demanded my keys
.

“No way.” Whitney reached for her blouse
.

I told her putting them down her bra wouldn’t help; it would just make it interesting for me. I grabbed her, and she kicked me in the ankle. My leg buckled. Bitch
.

“I don’t have them,” Whitney said. “They’re in the car.”

“I can’t believe you guys ruined everything,” Ashley said
.

I walked toward Ashley, glaring. I can freeze people out when I want, look at them so icy they think it’s snowing in Miami. I wanted to make Ashley shiver. She’d lied about me to Caitlin. I met her eyes until she looked away. “Who cares?” I said. “This initiation’s too long.”

“It’s over now,” Whitney said
.

“You mean we’re not being initiated?” Melissa squeaked
.

“You’re in,” Whitney said. “You shouldn’t be, but you’re in. Thank these guys for screwing things up.”

“You’re welcome.” Saint laughed like he’d said something hilarious. “Who’s up for the beach?”

Peyton and Ashley both jumped at that. The others, especially the new initiates, held back, watching Whitney until she shrieked at them to leave
.

Everyone started for their cars then, but Cat headed for Ashley. I grabbed Caitlin’s hand. “I’m taking you home.”

“You don’t have to,” she said
.

“I want to.”

She squeezed my hand, managing a smile. With a last glance at Ashley, she walked back to my car. The keys hung in the ignition, lucky for Whitney. Tom and Liana followed, trying to convince us to come to the beach with them. I waved them off. I’d seen Caitlin crying, knew how bad she felt about what they’d said to her. I helped her into the car, my lips brushing against her soft hair
.

“You looked ready to leave,” I said
.

“It was silly.” She edged away, but I drew her back toward me. “I thought it would be fun, but it wasn’t. I wanted them to like me. They don’t.” She turned on the radio. I reached over and stroked her fingers. We drove, listening to wind over the bay and an old Eric Clapton song. Finally, Caitlin’s voice emerged from darkness. “Nick, do you think—?”

“No.” I remembered her crying. When she protested that I didn’t know what she was going to say, I said, “I don’t think anything bad about you, Caitlin.” I kissed her fingers in time with the music. Then, I eased her zipper down and put my hand under her dress, feeling the smooth flesh of her back, then lower. She moved away. I said, “No one’s ever made me feel like this.”

“Like what? Excited?” Eyeing my straining fly
.

“No.” I laughed. “I mean, yeah, that too, but any girl can get you off. With you…” She gazed at me as I tried to put words together. “It’s like I’ve never done anything wrong.”

She leaned over then and touched my cheek. I worked my hand under her pantyhose. The song finished. The next one was fast, and Caitlin snapped off the radio. The road rolled on
.

“When’s your curfew?” I asked
.

“I was supposed to stay over Jessica’s.”

“Stay with me.”

“You mean sleep with you?”