Dare Me (27 page)

I crawl out of bed, and Ginny’s downstairs, reading yet another paper and drinking coffee. The coffee looks like a good idea. I mumble, “Morning,” as I pass her and she gives me a quick, “Hey,” but doesn’t take her eyes off the paper.

I put an English muffin in the toaster and drink coffee while I wait. There’s nowhere to sit in the little kitchen so I lean against the counter and look out into the still black morning. I can’t wait for spring.

“Hey, I meant to tell you, I got the details from the bank.” Ginny starts into the conversation like we’d left off with it last night.

“Okay.” The toaster pops and I butter my breakfast.

“It’s going to auction at the end of the month.”

“
This
month?”

“Yeah, which is two weeks, in case you’ve forgotten,” she says and looks into her coffee mug.

“But I don’t have enough money yet.”

“I know.” She sighs. “Maybe you want to consider saving that money for school instead.”

I think about the application I completed. I could pay for both years right now, but that’s not what she means.

My parents pop out of their bedroom, and it’s obvious that they’ve just finished a conversation. Both their lips are sealed but they have the same conspiratorial look.

“Good, you’re both up. I thought I was going to have to wait.” Dad sounds more upbeat than he has since Christmas.

Ginny and I look at each other and shrug. Mom laughs. Too hard. Shit, she’s nervous.

“Sit, please.” He’s talking to me, but Mom sits at the dining-room table while I grab a seat next to Ginny at the counter. “As you know, I’ve been upset about the house. I didn’t know the owners failed on the mortgage so soon, and I certainly didn’t know it was going to auction.”

I try not to choke on my muffin.

“So, I’ve spent the past couple of weeks getting our finances in order so that we can get the house back.” He doesn’t look at us.

Mom lets out a little cheer that is so weak it’s pathetic.

Dad steps forward and puts both hands on the counter. “My plan, unfortunately, will affect both of you.”

Ginny stops drinking her coffee and looks at me out of the corner of her eye. There’s only one possible way this is going to hit us both. Even I’ve figured that out.

“Gin, darling, we’re going to need to free up some cash, so I’m going to have to ask you to take on more of your student loans. I’ve got a plan mapped out, but you’ll need to go to financial aid after break and take care of the paperwork.”

Ginny’s doing her best to compose herself, but her lip’s trembling and her jaw’s wobbling. She nods at our father and he turns to me.

“Ben, the same applies to you. Once you have been accepted we’ll need to look at your finances very carefully, but I’m afraid you’ll be in the same situation as Ginny.”

It pains him to say this, but as much as I feel for him, I also want to laugh. He doesn’t need to worry about me. I got this.

“I think it’s the right move, Dad. Sometimes we have to sacrifice.” Ginny sounds like she’s reading the words off a teleprompter, but I also know they’re as much for me as Dad. She’s telling me I’ve bought her silence. She could spill the beans right now and I’d be fucked. Dad has the house figured out, I’m not needed there. But I sure am if she’s going to have to pay her way through the remaining ten years of school she’s planning on.

Mom chokes out a sob and even Dad wells up. I say, “I couldn’t agree more.”

Mom bolts out of her chair and rushes to us. “I don’t know what we did to deserve such good kids, but my God . . .” She doesn’t finish, but pulls us into her blubbering mess and squeezes tight. Dad walks over and joins the embrace. Mom cries on Ginny’s shoulder, and he leans in to kiss her cheek. Ginny looks up at me. Her eyes are as hard as her jaw, and I nod to let her know I understand. She nods back, and the deal is sealed.

—

I drive down
our old street on my way to pick up John, and stop before ou. The for sale sign is back in place but I don’t have the urge to take it down. No, it’s all good. Dad will take care of his business, I’ll tend to my own, and come spring I’ll be back on that porch.

John’s waiting outside when I pull up, in spite of it being twenty-something outside. He hops in quickly.

“Go, man, go.” It’s like he’s just held up a bank.

I gun it, and once we’re a block away he settles into the seat.

“Figured he was gonna follow me out and keep yelling.”

“About what? What happened?”

“The scholarship. It’s official. We got letters from every school. No one wants me.” He says this very matter-of-fact, but also very quiet.

I pull into the school’s lot and park. “Shit. That sucks.”

John looks out his window. “I don’t know. This is going to sound weird and all.”

“I can handle weird. Go ahead.”

“It’s, you know, all I’ve ever talked about was getting a scholarship to school? How basketball was my dream?”

I say, “Yeah,” and feel pained because I know I’m partly to blame for him losing that dream.

“Ever since I hurt my wrist, like
the very moment
, you know what I’ve been thinking?”

“You wanted to kill Ricky?”

“No, Ben, it’s not like that.” His voice is quiet again and I feel like a dick for making light of this.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean anything.”

He waves my words away. “I know. What you said makes sense. Who wouldn’t be pissed? But that’s the thing, even then I wasn’t. I had to act like I was, play the part and all.” He turns to me and his face is jumpy. “I realized I’ve been playing
that part
forever. The basketball star. As soon as I busted my wrist I was happy. I was relieved that the pressure was gone.”

John’s eyes bulge and he seems out of breath when he finishes. I nod because there’s nothing else for me to do. I didn’t know he felt like this, and hearing it all makes me feel slightly better about how things have worked out. But still. “Man, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I don’t know how you hung in there so long if you hated it.”

“It’s what I know. And it was expected.”

I can get my head around that. “So what’s the deal with your dad?”

John wraps his thumb and index finger around his forehead and squeezes. “He wants me out of the house. If I refuse to find another school to take me on scholarship, he won’t pay for me to go anywhere else, and he won’t let me live at home.”

The bell for first block rings and neither of us move toward the doors. “You’ll have enough to go to the community college, and my dad’s trying to get our house back. So if that works out, you can live with us.”

John looks at me. His eyes are puffy. “You serious?”

“Yup. He’s using Ginny’s and my college funds, but whatever.”

“Shit, she must be pissed.” John sits up and it’s good to see him not consumed by his own problems.

“Yeah, but she knows how much we’re making and how I’m not going away to school, so . . .”

“What do you mean you’re not going away?” John cuts me off.

“Uh, yeah, I guess I haven’t said much about it. I fucked up my SATs and my grades kinda blow. So, you know, I’m looking into community college.”

John’s face knots into confusion.
“You? Not going to college?”

“I’m still going, just not where I intended.”

“Your parents okay with this? Especially your dad.” John tilts his head forward, as if weighed down by the words.

“Haven’t told them. But, really, what are they going to do? They told me I have to foot the bill.”

“But where are you going to tell them the money came from?”

“Tips. Fat fucking tips.”

—

At lunch, I come out
with it. “So we’ve got an issue,” I say.

The guys lean forward. “Let’s hear it,” Ricky says.

I explain about Chantel and her uncle. We all sit back and look around.

“So what does this mean?” Trevor asks.

“It means we conference with O. P. ASAP,” I say.

“And say what?
We know who you are?
How does that help us?” Ricky says.

“Seriously? Are you really asking that question? The very guy who we’ve signed off with has put his niece onto me. That’s beyond creepy.”

“You really think it’s like that?” John rubs his face. “Like some kind of setup or something?”

“I don’t know, it seems like it has to be more than a coincidence,” I say.

Ricky shakes his head. “I hear your point, but one, Chantel hasn’t ever said anything about the dares, right?”

I nod.

“Two, when she was talking to you about her uncle, did it seem like she was in on all this, like she even knew?”

I think of her face on New Year’s as I hurried out the door. She was lost. “No, she didn’t. But come on, this is weird, right?”

“I think
weird
fits,” Trevor says.

“Agreed,” Ricky says. “But that doesn’t mean anything. You might just be getting paranoid, Ben. It’s what you do.”

I’m pissed at this point, but have no argument. Even if I did, Ricky continues anyway.

“Regardless of what is or what isn’t, we need to think about what we’re going to say. We can’t launch into
that
. You know?”

I do know. And I’m sure part of it has to do with Ricky worrying that our sugar daddy is going to disappear. I feel the same, but damn, this needs to be dealt with because I literally do not know what to do with Chantel. This whole whatever we have was strange before. But now? I guess there’s only one way to find out.

I look at Ricky. “Agreed. Set it up and we’ll see how it goes. I promise not to lose my shit.”

He gives me a long look. “Yeah, you’re good now. I can feel it. We’ll deal with this pervy shit, if it’s that, and then move onto something fun.”

I hope like hell we can get past this to that, but keep my mouth shut.

“Where have you been?” Chantel plops her tray down at our table and I jump in my seat.

“What’s up?” I manage.

She pops the cap off her bottle of water. “What’s up? Um, I don’t know, I’ve only been texting and calling for the past couple of days.”

The guys look at one another and then pretend to eat.

“I’ve been busy. Sorry.”

“Ben, what’s the deal? You’ve barely talked to me since New Year’s. Did I do something?” Chantel’s face is splotched.

I feel awful. She seems so genuine, like she’s always been. And if she doesn’t know anything, then what I did was a total dick move. I decide not to lie. “Family stuff, really. I don’t want to go into it, okay?”

Her face softens. “Ben, I’m sorry.” She grabs my hand, and I don’t unlace our fingers. “You can talk to me. You know that, right?”

If I look anywhere but at the bench right now, I might come undone. Who knows what the guys are thinking, and all these images I’ve had about Chantel are evaporating by the second. “I do,” I say.

“Good, because we need to talk about the formal. There’s no way I’m missing
that fun
.”

Everything slows with that. I don’t know if it’s because my brain’s so full that the processing is taking longer than usual, but it feels as if someone’s set the room to pause while I catch up. And I do. I catch what she said. Or more importantly,
how
she said it. The inflection on
that fun
. No one says that about the dances here. McNeil’s got breathalyzers at the door and chaperones that prowl the floor searching for “inappropriate touching.”

I clear my throat and hear Ricky do the same. Maybe I’m not paranoid? “What do you mean?” I ask Chantel. My voice is deadly, just like Ricky’s. Even Trevor glances over for a second.

Chantel looks blank for a moment and gives me the slightest head shake.

“No. I mean it. Tell me the
fun
you were talking about. I’d like to know.” Now my voice has an edge and I realize I need to control it before we have a scene here. I promised Ricky I can handle this shit. I need to show him I can because I want the reins for that conference with O. P.

John sips his drink and openly stares at us, like he’s watching tennis.

Chantel says flatly, “Being there with you. That’s what I meant.”

She’s an awful liar. I guarantee some third grader could have done a better job of convincing me. But she sits there, grinning, and I have to wonder: Am I seeing things I want, or am I uncovering some truth? Is Chantel lying? Does she know about the dares? Or am I so hypersensitive that I am, again, looking for someone else to blame?

CHAPTER 29

I
t’s snowing.
The flakes are fat and stick to the ground like batter on a grill. We haven’t had a real storm yet, but this white mess is moving like we’re just getting started. I head into the condo and shake off. Ginny’s by the fireplace, reading a textbook, highlighting away. She looks up when I come in and right back to her book.

I kick off my boots, hang up my coat, and head to the fridge. I grab an apple and take a bite. The crunch echoes through the house.

“Gin, where are Mom and Dad?”

“Funny,” she says to her book.

I move to the couch. “No, seriously. Where are they?”

She closes her book around her highlighter. “Have you really forgotten?”

I nod and bite my apple.

She looks at the fire, tilts her head, and turns back to me. “They’re at the auction.”

“Isn’t that tonight?” It’s not even 4:00.

“It is. But there isn’t just our house on the block, lots of others, too. And with the weather they wanted to get there and not miss anything.”

I imagine the scene down at the courthouse—my parents, Chuck, and whoever else is interested. Ginny’s shaking her head at me.

“What?”

“Nothing. I was going to say something, but never mind.”

“No, say what you’re thinking.”

“Ben, don’t start. I don’t feel like arguing right now. I’m working on this paper and am concerned about Mom and Dad. You could get your head out of your ass, okay?”

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m busy, too. It may not be school work, but I’m making more money than you ever have.”

“Wow, I’m so impressed. You’re doing stupid illegal shit so that you can feel like your life has more meaning. I’m amazed.”