Dare Me (13 page)

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Authors: Eric Devine

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BOOK: Dare Me
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“Jesus, Benny! You okay?”

I believed I was. I thought I could come over and ask about Trevor. Have an honest conversation about what I’ve been thinking. Instead, I ask the first question that comes to mind. “Trevor been coming here a lot?”

Ricky scowls. “Yeah. Before we go to his house to work on the footage. Why?”

“That all?”

“Yeah, that’s all!” Ricky moves closer to me, and as he does, I see him differently. I don’t know why, but what rolls inside my brain are the rumors about Trevor. But they surround Ricky now.

“Everything cool? You good?”

Ricky nods. “Why wouldn’t I be good? All is as planned.”

“Yeah, but is it? I mean, not exactly, right? What about John?”

Ricky looks at me for a long moment and then away. “Benny, you know shit never works out exactly from paper to the real deal.”

Do I ever.

“It’s going good enough, right?”

“How? John might lose his scholarship and we’re not getting paid for the dare that caused the injury. You haven’t explained what’s what with Trevor or what’s going on with you. Don’t act as if everything’s fine. I know that game too well.”

Ricky’s face pulls back. “Jesus, Benny, unleash much?”

“Fuck you! If you can’t even talk to me, forget it. I won’t bother to help with John. And you know he’s going to need some serious coaxing.”

“Benny, come on.” Ricky comes all the way down the steps. “Lighten up.”

I stare. I don’t in any way go along with his shit. I’ve done enough.

“Fine. This is like therapy.” He pauses. “First, John will go along if he needs the money. He’ll understand how the contract works now, and we’ll be fine.”

I interrupt. “Which he and I both need copies of.”

Ricky frowns. “They’re inside. I swear. But I’m not going in to get them. Not with Dad.”

“All right.”

“Speaking of which, he keeps saying to ‘get ready for being eighteen.’ Whatever the fuck that means. I swear, he’d throw me out right now if he could.” He rubs his face. “And I agreed last night to set something up with O. P. Remember? Or were you too busy with Chantel?”

I blush and Ricky jabs my side. “Keep going, I was starting to like you again.”

He shakes his head. “We’ll get paid, don’t worry. We had one mishap. We’ll be more careful. I don’t know if it will be enough to cover John’s scholarship if he can’t play. But one, we don’t know if that’s the case, and two, that wasn’t really the plan from the start. He didn’t have to do anything he didn’t want to.”

I could argue this but don’t. “And Trevor?”

Ricky looks back at his house and then at me. “You ever wish you lived somewhere else?”

I laugh at the irony.

“What?”

I explain and Ricky shakes his head. “Ben, I’m sorry.”

“I know, but come on and finish your point about Trevor. I’m freezing my ass off.”

He nods. “Right now I need to get away from here. And he’s got no one. It works. You know?”

I don’t. He admitted to using the kid, but I’m not going to argue because it’s not as if I woke up with Chantel and took her to breakfast. “It works because you have a home away from home? Or because you have that and certain company?”

Ricky glares at me like he wants to punch me more than he does his father.

“I’m only asking, not judging.”

He turns from me. “Honestly, it’s both. I don’t know what it means. I’m in a strange place in my life, and the kid I hated for so long is helping me through. I don’t know what else to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything. That was fine.” I clasp his shoulder. “Thanks, Rick. Be you. I really don’t care.”

He frowns.

“I’m still down with what we’re doing.”

Ricky shifts. “Yeah? Why is that?”

Now I turn away and the memories flood back. “You remember all the pranks we used to pull? On substitutes? Teachers? Camp counselors? And then . . .”

“I don’t think any of us forgets that last one.”

“You know what I mean, everything before the shit hit the fan.”

“Of course I do? Why?”

“Even after the prank with the camera in the bathroom, I still wanted to do stupid shit like that. I would have kept up with you, but my dad squashed that.”

“So what’s your point? You trying to get back at your dad?”

I dig deeper into my pockets, wanting to get this point across before my teeth start chattering. “No, not that. I wanted to reclaim that feeling. That rush. I missed it. I didn’t know I did until after we surfed. Later, watching that video, thinking about it, shit, I felt so goddamn alive.”

Ricky reaches out, and we embrace. He claps my back. “Knowing that, I guarantee we’re going to be fine, Benny.”

I hug him back and hope like hell I did the right thing.

CHAPTER 14

M
y parents have narrowed
down their selection of apartments to three, and I have to go see the last one this afternoon. It better have more to offer than crack-dealing neighbors and a backyard surrounded by broken fences and piles of garbage. “We need to cut costs, my dear,” Mom said, after the last visit to the ghetto.

She has a point, but still, it’s more than dollars and cents. Right?

But that’s the same question I had after I read the contract. So maybe I’m wrong.

I step into physics, and it seems as if we’re continuing a theme here. On the board is written:
Newton’s Third Law: For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.
The words are more like something out of a fortune cookie than a scientific law. Still, maybe I should pay more attention in here.

In English we continue reading
The Count of Monte Cristo
. The unabridged version. So the movie won’t even help.

In econ we define a series of terms that sound as exciting as white paint:
diminishing marginal utility, marginal costs, price elasticity of supply.
I might try out some of these with Chuck, see if he needs to know any of this shit to actually run a business. Although, he may not be the best example to ask.

In calculus I realize that I could figure out an answer to all of my problems by using all that I haven’t learned. I can graph what I’m supposed to know along with what I actually do, and make a best guess for how this will end up.

I can’t wait for my interim report. I may actually be that kid who waits for the mail the day it goes home, so I can keep the damn thing from my parents.

John and I are heading out when a group of basketball players pass. They’re all tall, like John, and now with swagger, as the season is getting underway. One of them taps John’s cast as he passes and says, “Thanks, man.” He laughs, and the rest of the team cracks up.

John watches them go and looks as if they’ve stolen his spine.

“You okay?”

“Not with my scholarship on hold until after I get this off.” He holds up the cast like it’s a diseased limb. “My dad’s ready to kill me. Like seriously, with a gun. Says he doesn’t know how I could do this, or how he’ll pay for college. Not like my grades are good.”

“Let’s hope there’s enough cash from these dares so you can tell him where to stick it.”

“Yeah, I hear you. But it’ll take a lot of money for that. He’s an enormous asshole.”

We crack up, and Ricky and Trevor round the corner.

“Ben, John, it’s time,” Ricky says, like some pregnant wife might to her husband.

“Great, I’ll get the hot water,” I say, but no one else gets the joke. Or they do and realize it’s lame.

“Benny, you ready for this?” Ricky’s tone is stern, and I understand he’s scared. He wasn’t thrilled with this idea when I pitched it to him. But when I connected it to keeping us safe so the money could keep coming in, he backed off.

I wave. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

“I think you may be underestimating him,” Trevor says.

“Thanks, Trev.” I stalk down the hall to McNeil’s, the guys behind me. His secretary whisks us in, and we sit like before.

“So, gentlemen, we meet again.” McNeil’s eyes hover over each of us. They linger on Trevor. “Were you here last time, Mr. Culin?”

“Of course, sir. I’m sorry if I don’t stick out.”

McNeil’s expression speaks volumes about how much Trevor sticks out, but he lets it pass. “Mr. Forrest, how’s the wing? What’s the prognosis?”

John touches his cast. “Six weeks and then they’ll re-evaluate.”

“That’s most of the season. What about your scholarship to State?”

John looks down and shrugs.

“I am so sorry to hear that, John. It will work out. Just watch.” McNeil adjusts his seat. “So what’s the news?”

Ricky turns to me. “Ben?”

I clear my throat. “Mr. McNeil, we believe that Jesse Holmes and his friends are the group completing the stunts.”

McNeil’s face tightens and his eyes go cold. “On what basis do you make this claim?”

“We’ve talked to kids, at your request, and their names kept coming up. Then we reviewed the footage over and over. If you look, the three guys in the videos look a lot like Jesse Holmes, Chris Carsdale, and Danny Blackman.” There, I’ve said it, I’ve spun the lie that should, at minimum, produce the shadow of suspicion we can operate under.

McNeil sits back in his chair and presses his hands to his face, as if in prayer. I swallow and feel lightheaded.

“If this theory of yours is true, wouldn’t a whole host of students have something to gain by turning them in? Any of our baseball players, or track stars in Danny’s case? Really, anyone with a vendetta or an inclination to see them suffer.” McNeil stares at us.

“I hadn’t considered that,” I say, “but maybe?”

McNeil opens his mouth, but Trevor cuts him off. “Even though all of what you said may be true, that doesn’t mean it’s not occurring.”

McNeil looks at Trevor, and his disdain is visible. “Logic would dictate, yes.”

Deep breaths, lots of deep breaths.
It’s going to be fine.

McNeil sits up. “Thank you, boys. You’ve at least given me an avenue to consider. If you hear any more, you know where to find me.”

We all nod and say thanks, and then file into the hall.

Ricky looks at me. “So what do you think? What’s going to happen?”

I completely ignore Newton’s Third law, and focus on the first two. “We set that ball in motion. The best thing we can do is stay out of its way and let it run its course.”


“There’s my little brother.”
Ginny looks up from her laptop. Mom asked her to come home to see this last apartment. And like the dutiful child she is, she obliged.

“Hey, Ginny.” I wave and move toward the stairs to head up to my room, but my mother bounds in.

“I thought I heard you. Great, let’s head to the showing.”

I feel like sitting down on the floor and not moving, making them pick me up and carry me to the car. Instead I say, “Oh, right,” dump my bag, and head back out the door.

Ginny catches up to me and puts an arm around my shoulder. “We’re set for the interview, right?”

I nod and do not look at her. “Yeah. Tomorrow night.”

She squeezes me. It’s an odd sensation.

“Awesome. There’s a bunch of us following you now.”

My insides go cold, and I turn around to check for Mom. She’s back at the house locking up. “Keep it down, will you? Shit.”

“Chill, Benny boy. I won’t blow your cover.” Ginny says, and I feel worse than before. I only mentioned the interview once, to Ricky and Trevor, while we were all drunk.

We pile in, Ginny taking shotgun, which is fine by me. Mom and Ginny chat it up and I start texting:
Interview with Ginny. Tomorrow @ 10 p.m.

Ricky replies:
Is this what you wanted Trevor to record?

“He remembered?” I say out loud, and my mother and Ginny turn and look at me. “Nothing. Talking to myself.” Mom frowns and Ginny shakes her head, but they pick up the conversation again. I text back:
Yeah. What about our meeting with O. P.?

You’re not working tonight, right?

Right.

Tonight @ Trev’s. Bring John.

Shit, he actually did it.
K.

I tuck my phone away and look up. I look again. I know this street. There are nice houses with lawns that have gardeners tend to them. What are we doing here? As I’m about to ask, Mom turns the bend and the spread of condos emerges.

“Here we are,” Mom declares in that singsong voice.

“Aren’t these out of our price range?” I slump through the front seats to get a better look.

“They were, but one just came on the market at a reasonable price. I think someone may have died in it.”

“Eww, gross.” Ginny recoils.

“What? It’s not like you’ll be here much.” Mom looks at Ginny. Then at me. “Either of you. Soon it will be only summers. And then, not even.” She starts crying, and Ginny has to grab the wheel so we don’t crash. Ginny guides Mom into a parking spot and she collects herself. “Follow me.”

If someone didn’t die in here, they should have killed themselves. It’s heinous. Wallpaper everywhere. And all floral print, big pink and purple. The carpet is raspberry and the air feels like it’s being pumped in from some meth lab.

Mom twirls. “It’s bigger than the pictures make it seem.” She goes up to the second floor. “Ooo, there’s a fireplace up here, too.”

“Probably burned the corpse in it.” My sister looks at me all wide-eyed.

“What a nightmare.”

“Yeah, you may need to come visit me more often,” Ginny says.

More like
ever
. Ginny has never had me come stay with her. “Right. Because we do that.”

She frowns. “Ben, don’t be a shit. You weren’t old enough before. You’re going to college next year.” She tilts her head. “Where are you going, by the way?”

I have no idea. Haven’t signed up for my second round with the SATs, and I think my GPA is at an all-time low. “Still narrowing it down.”

“Let me know if I can help.”

I don’t understand why she’s being so nice. No, shit, yes I do. The interview. She’s using me. “Right, like with the interview?”

She narrows her eyes. “Ben, it’s not like that.”

“Really? How?”

“It’s mutually beneficial. I get my data, and if you use the recording correctly, it could help you get exposure. Word will spread.”

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