Gotcha (13 page)

“You’ve got to admit,” I say. “It looks pretty suspicious.”

He nods. “I guess it does. But it never occurred to me that you’d think I was using you to get to Paige. It is just a coincidence for me that I’ve become...acquainted with my victim’s friend.”

He looks so sincere, and I feel myself begin to soften, but then I realize how stupid that would be. I force myself to see past the sparkling eyes, the dazzling smile, the easygoing attitude. “You said yourself that you can’t trust anyone in this game,” I remind him. “And that it is ‘just’ a game. And that anything goes. So what am I supposed to think?”

Joel runs a hand through his hair, thinking. “Sit down, Katie,” he says, motioning to the bench.

I do, and he lays the crutches back down. I can see from the corner of my eye that the waitress is watching us. She’s probably wishing we’d leave so she can lock the place up.

“You never showed any interest in being my friend until Gotcha began,” I say.

“That’s true. We didn’t know each other. But that night you came to rescue Paige from Elijah’s house, well, it reminded
me of the crush I’d had on you when we were little kids.”

“Right.”

“And I kept thinking about you,” he says, ignoring my sarcasm. He speaks softly, earnestly. “So I decided to ask you to Tyson’s party, just because I wanted to hang together, not because of Gotcha or Paige.”

How I wish I could believe him.

“Hey,” he says, suddenly looking up. “Did I look one bit concerned when I heard you’d had a fight with Paige?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Well if this had been about me using you to get to Paige, that would have been a serious problem for me. But I didn’t care. And we did have fun at that party until...”

“Whatever, Joel,” I say. “I still can’t help you tag Paige. That would be a definite friendship-ender.” Not that I really care at the moment, but still. I have principles.

We sit in awkward silence. Joel’s finger taps the edge of his glass. “I’m going to prove to you that I didn’t befriend you just to get Paige’s bead,” he says finally, leaning into the table.

“And how are you going to do that?” I ask.

“I’m not sure yet,” he says. “But I’m working on it.”

I can sense that he’s studying my face, but I can’t make eye contact with him. Suddenly he stands up, leans right across the table and kisses me, softly. I should push him away, or lean back where he can’t reach me, but I don’t.

I hear the waitress clear her throat. Joel must have heard her too, because he sits back on his bench. “Is that proof enough?” he asks.

“It proves nothing,” I tell him. Except that his lips felt wonderful on mine, warm, soft, even if it was such a brief connection.

“Well then, I guess I have to help you tag Warren first.”

I nod. My cheeks are burning.

“He’s got quite a few beads, by the way.”

“Really?” I should care, but somehow I don’t. I only care that I’ve just been kissed, by Joel.

Joel leans forward and whispers, “You look especially pretty when you’re blushing.”

I groan and roll my eyes, but I can feel my face turning redder still. He yanks his wallet out of the pocket of his jeans and digs through it for some money. “You know, Katie, I’d drop out of the game right now if it would make you believe that I’m not using you to win the game.”

“Warren won’t let you drop out,” I remind him.

“Oh yeah,” he says. “Good.” He places his money on the table and grins. “Because it’s just becoming interesting.”

The kiss we share when we get back to my house is a little longer and warmer still, but I don’t linger too long. I’m still wary of him. And so is my mom.

“Where have you been?” she demands as I hobble into the house.

“Out. I left a note on the counter.”

“Just saying you’re going ‘out’ is not good enough, Katie,” she says. “I had no way of knowing where you were,
what you were up to, who you were with. I was worried.”

How stupid is that! I’ll be gone, living on my own, in a few months. Her worrying is coming a few years too late. “I was out doing drugs and having unprotected sex,” I snap back.

“Katie!” she says.

“Oh c’mon, Mom. You know me better than that. I was with Joel, discussing strategy for the Gotcha game. No big deal.”

“Necking with a boy in the driveway, where all the neighbors can see you, is not discussing strategy.”

“You were spying on me!”

“No, I just happened to look out the window, much like all the neighbors were probably doing.”

“I can’t believe this.” I have never given her one moment of worry in all my high school years, and suddenly I’m a slut for getting a good-night kiss. Grad and college can’t come soon enough.

I hobble past her and to the computer. I can feel her eyes on my back.

“There’s nothing to worry about, Mom.”

She sighs. “Just use some discretion in the future, Katie. Good night.” I hear her trudge up the stairs. For one guilty second I wonder if she’s lonely without Dad. But then I decide I don’t care.

I check the group page on Facebook and, sure enough, Warren does have six beads. Bonus. The game appears to be down to forty-eight players. I count up the
girls who are still left playing. Only ten. I was right. The boys have been playing harder for some reason. That’s got to change.

I know I have to get back to school, and I’d really like to be at the grade twelve meeting tomorrow afternoon. I consider my options. I could phone Paige and ask how she’s been getting to school and whether she’ll go with me. But I really don’t want to do that. Especially now.

And then there’s Dad. He’s still driving a car and doesn’t appear to have anywhere to go during the day. Maybe he could behave like a father and get me to school.

From:
[email protected]
To:
[email protected]
Subject: getting 2 school

hi dad, n e chance u could pick me up tm morning & drive me 2 school? It’s 2 far 2 go on crutches, but im getting really far behind. i could use a ride home 2.

thnks,

Katie

I plunk myself in front of the
TV
for an hour, giving Dad a chance to respond, but he doesn’t. I finally go to bed and try to think of something besides Joel, but it’s hopeless.
The kiss is still too fresh in my mind. I toss and turn for hours.

I check my e-mail for a message from Dad in the morning. Still nothing. I’m going to have to phone Paige or stay home again. I stare at the phone and decide to go for it. Somehow I’m in the mood to take chances.

Paige’s phone rings four times. I know they have call display, so I expect Paige has seen who is phoning them and is ignoring my call. I’m just about to hang up when her mom picks up.

“Hi, Katie,” she says, clearly happy to hear from me. “Long time no see. How are you?”

There’s something about her tone and her cheerfulness that makes me think she doesn’t know anything about the situation between Paige and me.

“It has been a while,” I agree. “I don’t know if Paige told you, but I’ve injured my ankle and I’m on crutches.”

“Oh no! Paige has been...very quiet, not telling me much about anything. What happened?”

“Just a little accident. No big deal. But I was wondering how she is getting to school. I’ve been stuck home all week...”

“Do you want a ride?” she asks. “That silly bead game has got Paige terrified, so I’ve been driving her each day. I’d be happy to pick you up too.”

This is too easy. I don’t even have to talk to Paige.

“That would be so great. How soon are you leaving?”

“We’ll pick you up at eight thirty.”

I hang up and smile to myself, but the moment passes quickly. Paige is going to be majorly ticked that I wangled myself a ride, and she’ll let me have it...though she might pretend everything is okay in front of her mom. It should be an interesting six-minute journey.

I see them pull in to my driveway at exactly 8:30. Paige gets out of the car and jogs up the walkway, glancing over her shoulder. I open the door and force myself to look directly into her face. Her eyes are flat, almost hard. There’s no hint of friendliness or even forgiveness there. Where is my old friend Paige? What has happened to her?

“Nice trick, Katie.”

“I just need to get to school and...”

“Whatever. My mom doesn’t have a clue about what’s been going on, so don’t say a word.”

“I won’t.” I start clomping down the path behind her. “I don’t suppose you want to swap apologies?” I say to her back, just before we get to the car.

She turns to glare at me. “I haven’t done anything to apologize for.”

“Well I’m willing to apologize,” I tell her. “And I’ll try to forget what happened at Tyson’s.”

“We’ll talk later,” she mumbles and opens the back door for me. I slide across the seat and pull my crutches in behind me.

I’d forgotten how much alike Paige and her mother are—or used to be, before Gotcha started. Paige’s mom
babbles nonstop, unaware of Paige’s black mood. When we get to the school, Paige waits while I climb out of the car and she watches her mom drive away. Then she turns and glares at me. “Our friendship can never be the same, Katie,” she says, her voice dripping with bitterness. “You called me needy and attention-seeking. From now on, anytime I ever do anything, I’ll wonder if you’re thinking I’m seeking attention again. I can’t live with that.” She turns and starts marching toward the school.

My initial reaction is shock. I’ve always been honest with her. Why is she being so oversensitive this time? “Hey, Paige,” I yell at her back. She swings around and stares at me. I ignore the steady stream of students who are emerging from their parents’ cars and walking past us to the school.

“I never called you needy,” I yell to her. “But I will say you’re prone to exaggeration.”

She stomps back to me, glancing nervously at anyone who may have heard my outburst.

“You could try a little harder to keep our conversation private,” she says, her face right up to mine.

“Hey, you walked away without giving me a chance to speak,” I say.

She looks around and crosses her arms. “Katie, best friends take each other just as they are and don’t label them. I could call you a few unpleasant names too, you know.”

“Go for it,” I challenge her.

She thinks about that. “Okay. Let’s start with know-it-all. Stuck-up. And frigid.”

“That’s the best you can do?” I ask, trying hard not to react to her words.

“Yeah, that’s about it. But it stings, doesn’t it?”

I nod. “Yeah, a little,” I admit. “But not enough to give up on years of friendship.”

“Then maybe I feel things deeper than you,” she says.

“Maybe you do.” Or maybe she’s the ultimate drama queen. Or has an icy heart.

“So I can’t be friends with you anymore,” she reiterates.

“Okay.” I shrug. “Although I find this very strange. I’ve always been honest with you, even when it hurts. But if that’s the way it’s got to be...”

She nods, not making eye contact with me.

“You know, there are other labels I could give you too, the ones that made me enjoy being your friend, even when you were attention-seeking.”

Her eyes narrow. “Like what?”

“You used to be loveable. And funny. And spontaneous.”

She glares at me.

“And at one time I would have called you loyal, too, but now I’m not so sure. Especially since Tyson’s party.”

The buzzer sounds for the start of first class.

“Goodbye, Katie,” she says and walks off.

I sit through my classes, but I can’t focus. Paige’s labels for me are running through my mind, especially one. Frigid. Am I? Is that how Joel sees me?

I doodle in the back of my notebook while I examine my feelings. Being dumped by her has left me agitated but also relieved in some strange way. Being Paige’s best friend was a lot of work, I realize. She’s a bundle of insecurities, and I’ve always had to be strong for her and listen to her constant babble of unrelated thoughts. It was exhausting. I’ve seen her toss away other friends over the years, but I never thought she’d do it to me. There’s something very odd about this. I was her anchor. She felt secure with me. She’d share her thoughts, sort out her feelings, realizing, all the while, that I knew she was simply “trying on” new ideas, and I wouldn’t hold her to anything. And yet, did she do that for me?

I snap shut my notebook. Paige has always needed me more than I need her, and if she doesn’t want to be friends, it’s her loss.

At lunch break I hobble into the cafeteria and spot Paige sitting with Tanysha and Mariah at our usual table. Where will I sit? Just as I’m beginning to wish I’d stayed home again today, I feel a set of arms wrap around me from behind.

“You’re here!” Joel says.

A warm glow spreads over me, yet I’m acutely aware that the noise in the cafeteria has dimmed, and I suspect that we’re the cause of it. People aren’t used to seeing me enclosed in a guy’s arms. As nonchalantly as possible, I gently loosen his arms and turn to face him. The cafeteria chatter resumes. New relationships are always hot topics.

“It’s so great to have you back at school,” Joel says. He glances about, probably wondering why I’m red-faced. His gaze lingers on Paige’s table, and he turns and regards me. “Problems?”

“Sort of.”

While Joel considers the situation, I think about what it means that he hugged me in front of everyone. The nagging suspicion I still had that he was using me to get to Paige disappears. He’s got to be for real.

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asks.

I nod and glance at Paige’s table. All three of them are still staring at us. I turn and follow Joel back out of the cafeteria.

Just as we get through the doors, I hear my name being called. I swing around and find Mariah chasing after us.

“Hey,” she says.

“Hey,” I say back.

She nods back to the cafeteria. “Sorry about that. I didn’t know what to do.”

“That’s okay. I understand.”

“Jefferson’s not here today...so I sat with them...”

“I’m serious, ‘Riah. It’s okay.”

She shoves a folder of paper in my hand. “The Tlingit report,” she says.