Gotcha (19 page)

I can only shrug. “I got suspended.”

“So I heard,” she says, eyes bugging. As she stares at me, I see the color returning to her cheeks, but she begins to breathe harder. “Well? Are you not going to explain?”

“I’m sure Fetterly already did.”

“I’d like to hear your side of the story.” She drops her purse on the kitchen counter, pulls out the chair across from me and plunks herself in it.

“I got caught playing Gotcha so I got suspended. End of story.”

“I told you that game was bad news, Katie. Why didn’t you listen to me?”

I shrug again. There’s no way to explain the pressure to her. She just wouldn’t get it.

Mom stares at me until she realizes she’s not going to get an answer. Then she says, “Fetterly said he gave you
an option, that you could return to school immediately if you so wished.”

“Did he tell you what that option was?”

“No. He said that was between you and him.”

Grudgingly, I offer up a silent thank-you to Fetterly. “It was an impossible option, Mom. Believe me, if I took it, my life would be in serious danger.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“I’m not.”

“We’re talking a stupid game here, Katie, not organized crime.”

“It amounts to much the same thing.”

She just stares at me, totally exasperated.

“Think of the bright side, Mom,” I tell her. “I no longer need money for a grad dress. And you won’t need to buy banquet tickets or photos or any of those other things you couldn’t afford.”

“Katie, think about what you’re saying.” She leans aggressively across the table. For the first time I notice gray streaks in her hair. “You have to get into that school right now and bring an end to this. You are a smart girl! You could have a wonderful future! I can’t believe you’d get so caught up in this nonsense that you’d allow this to happen.”

“Well I did, Mom. It’s happened. There’s a lot of stuff you don’t understand, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Help me understand it.” She leans back and folds her arms across her chest.

“I can’t. You just wouldn’t.”

“And you’re just going to sit there and accept that.”

“I don’t know what else I can do.”

I can’t look at her, but I feel her glare. It’s a standoff. I can hear her short puffs of breath. The windows rattle as a truck passes by. Eventually she breaks. “Well you better think of something!” She pushes her chair away and stomps across the kitchen, slamming shut a cupboard door. I hear the creak of the stairs and she heads to her bedroom.

The day can’t get any worse. My life can’t get any worse. A heaviness descends upon me, and I can’t even muster the energy to leave the kitchen table. I lay my head down.

Some time later the phone rings, but I ignore it. After six rings the answering machine clicks in, but no one leaves a message. Then it begins to ring again. “Katie, get that!” Mom hollers down the stairs. As I limp across the kitchen to pick it up, I silently pray that it’s Joel. He’s the only person in the world I want to talk to right now.

“Katie.”

It’s not Joel. “Warren.”

“I hear you have a little problem,” he says.

I know he’s panic-stricken, wondering if I’m going to turn him in, but his voice is as come-on and sensuous as ever.

“Not a little problem. A big one.”

“I wish I could help you out.”

“Sure you do.”

“I do, Katie, I really do.” He says it in a way that, if I didn’t know him better, I’d believe him.

“I don’t see how you can.”

“Did Fetterly want to know who else was playing?”

Warren must really be nervous. I didn’t expect him to come out with the real reason for his call quite so soon.

“Yes, he did.”

“And did you tell him?”

“Not yet.”

His sigh of relief is not audible, but I hear it anyway.

“Are you going to?”

“It depends on how badly I want my suspension to end.”

This time I hear the sigh. “This is quite the predicament you’re in, isn’t it?” He doesn’t need to spell out all the facts. We both know what they are. What surprises me is he sounds like he actually cares.

“It’s even worse than you know, Warren.”

“Really? How could it be worse?”

“It just is.”

“Trouble with Lover Boy?”

“If you mean Joel, no. We’re fine.”

He hesitates. “Then what do you mean?”

It must be his voice. Or maybe it’s that I’ve sunk to a place so low that I just don’t care anymore. When I open my mouth I find myself telling Warren the truth. “I lost the money.”

“The Gotcha money?”

“Yeah.”

“How could you lose it?”

“I just did, okay?”

“Did you spend it?”

“No! I lent it to someone, someone who has... disappeared.”

“Maybe they’ll reappear.”

“That’s not likely.”

For a moment Warren doesn’t say anything. I even begin to wonder if he’s hung up, but then I hear a little chuckle. The chuckle grows into a laugh and then builds into a hysterical, deranged-sounding noise. I have to pull the receiver away from my ear. “So we’re all running around stalking each other for nothing?” he asks between fits of laughter.

“That’s right.”

“Oh my God! That’s hilarious!” he hoots. “What were you going to tell the winner when you couldn’t pay up?”

“I have to be the winner. There is no other way.”

That shuts him up, and instantly I regret my confession. What creepy thing will he do with that information?

“Does Joel know about this?”

“No. I’m too embarrassed to tell anyone. I don’t even know why I told you,” I say in a whisper.

“Well, there’s only one thing left for us to do then,” he says.

“What’s that?” I wait to hear the details of my torture.

“Make sure you win.”

I can’t have heard him correctly. “Are you serious? You’re not going to kill me?”

“Jesus, Katie! It’s just a frickin’ game! Sure, it’s been fun, but this is ridiculous. Enough is enough.”

I’m not sure whether to believe him. “Not everyone is going to feel the way you do, Warren.”

“I know.” He sighs.

“And what about the Gotcha Gods?”

“Get a grip, Katie.” He pauses, thinking. “The thing is, you need to tell Fetterly it’s over, the sooner the better. Like tomorrow. Tell him we decided to quit.”

“Huh?”

“Yes. The game has to end tonight.”

“Easier said than done.”

“I’ll make it happen.”

“Why are you doing this, Warren?”

“Because I want your body.”

“Shut up.”

There’s a long pause. “I do. But that’s only part of it.” He laughs and then clears his throat. “Maybe because you didn’t rat us out when you had the chance.”

“I couldn’t. Tyson would have killed me.”

“You’re right. His competitive gene is overdeveloped.”

“So I still don’t get it. Why would you help me?” I ask again.

There’s another long pause. “Because, Katie, for the first time, you’ve treated me like someone.”

“Like someone?”

“I know what you think of me, Katie. You think that I’m a male bimbo.”

He’s right. I feel my face burn.

“And maybe I am. We each do what works for us.” He clears his throat.

I’m stunned. This is the first time I’ve ever heard him sound anything but cocky. “But I’ve always admired you, Katie. And just now, when you confided in me...” He pauses, clearing his throat again. “It felt like you might actually have some respect for me. Like maybe you do like me after all.”

“Of course I like you.”

“You’ve never acted like you do. You act like you think you’re better than me.”

I’m feeling so awkward. So ashamed. How did we go from the Gotcha game to this? The worst part is I suspect he’s right. “I think I was just jealous because you beat me out for class president.” I laugh, but it comes out like a silly nervous titter.

“I’d have handed the title over to you if I thought you’d take it,” he says. “But I know you’re too proud.”

“You’re right. And you won it honestly.”

There’s an awkward moment. “So how do I go about winning the game?” I ask finally.

“Do you have my name?” he asks.

I pause, alarmed. Have I just fallen for another Gotcha trick? Suddenly I don’t care. “Yes,” I confess. Now that I’ve told him about the money, I’m feeling a huge weight off my shoulders. Nothing has changed, but I don’t feel so all alone.

“Perfect. I’ll be able to hang onto my bead then, and you’ll have yours. When we’re the last two people in the game, I’ll give you my bead and voila. It will all be over. No one will know.”

He makes it sound so easy. I feel my hope returning.

“Whose name do you have?” I ask.

“Joel’s.”

“Oh no.” All sense of hope disappears again.

“What’s the matter?”

“We’re working as a team.”

“You
were
working as a team.”

I shake my head. “He’ll hate me if I don’t stick with him. I can’t do it.”

“Don’t be silly, Katie. Of course he won’t hate you. Of anyone in our class, he’d be the first to understand. He strikes me as being totally level-headed. He won’t mind at all if he knows it gets you out of this mess.”

Could he be right? Oh God, I hope so. Things are just getting good with Joel. I don’t want to mess with that.

“So that’s where we have to start,” Warren says. “And immediately. You invite Joel over and then let me in. It will be quick and painless.”

Painless. I feel sick. I promised Joel, told him I was his partner. Would he do this to me? No. So how can I do it to him?

And yet...maybe Warren’s right. Joel knows what’s at stake for me. Well, he doesn’t know about the money. What would he think of me if he knew about that? But he did tell me that he’s just playing the game for fun, that he’s not obsessed with it. Not like Paige was.

Paige. Oh man. I will have set up my two closest friends, Paige and Joel, before this is all over. What have I become? And did I betray my entire class by loaning Dad the money?
Just when I thought I was at the bottom of that water chute, I slide a little farther.

“Katie? You still there?” Warren asks.

“Yeah.”

“So can you get Joel over? Right now?”

“Right now?”

“We’ve got to wrap this up tonight, remember?”

“Okay. I’ll call him.”

“Good. And unless I hear otherwise, I will be at your door in an hour. Just let me in and I’ll tag him.”

“He’s going to be so mad.”

“Katie. We have to do this. We have to get you back to school.”

“Okay. I’ll see you in an hour.”

I hang up the phone and quickly dial Joel’s number before I lose my nerve.

“Hello?” Joel answers after just one ring.

“Joel, it’s me, Katie.”

“Hey, Katie.” His voice softens when he realizes that it’s me. Now I feel sicker than ever.

“Something urgent has come up and I need you to come over right away.”

“What is it?”

“I’ll explain when you get here.”

“But...”

“Can you come?”

He hesitates “Not really but...” He sighs. “Yeah, okay, I’ll be right there.”

I flop onto the living room couch while I wait for Joel. I’m hoping my mom doesn’t decide to appear from her room to serve brownies during the tagging. That’s just what I’d need. I’m surprised she isn’t in the kitchen cooking up a batch right now. That’s her usual stress-buster.

The wait is killing me. I see some books lying on their side in the wall unit. Dad must have knocked them over when he was ransacking the house. I straighten them out, placing them back on the shelf in order of their height, tallest to shortest. Then I arrange the rest of the shelves the same way. I stand back and admire my handiwork.

I move from there to the kitchen, where I tackle the spice rack. I wipe off each bottle and replace them in alphabetical order.

Still no sign of Joel.

I start organizing the papers and
CDS
that collect around the computer. What could Joel be doing? He said he’d be right over.

Just when I’m about to start cleaning the elements on the stove, the doorbell rings. Thank God. Feeling ill at what I’m about to do, I hobble to the door and open it up, expecting to see Joel, but it’s Warren who’s standing there, peering past me into the house.

“You’re early. He’s not here yet.”

He doesn’t look at me but slides past and walks straight through to the living room. “That’s okay,” he says. “I’ll be able to tag him as soon as he arrives.”

I nod. “I did wonder how I was going to explain to him why I’d called him over.”

As I follow him down the hall, an idea blindsides me. I could reach out, tag Warren and stay in the game with Joel. I could. Why don’t I?

But then I remember. Warren knows my dirty little secret. What would he do with that information if I tagged him right now?

I sit across from him and study his face as he scans the room. I try not to think about what being indebted to him might mean.

The silence is awkward. Warren fiddles with his phone, opening and shutting it. His presence fills the room. I am so aware of him, yet I try hard to remain aloof. He turns suddenly and smiles at me, a warm, reassuring smile. I feel my skin burn and look away. Why do I get so messed up around him?

“We can do this, Kittiekat,” he says softly.

I just nod, still not looking at him. He saved me once before, at Tyson’s house. I just hope he can do it again.

I think about what he said, how he didn’t think that I liked him. Was he serious? And even if I didn’t like him, why would he care? Everyone else loves him.

I wonder how a person acquires that kind of magnetism. Do you learn it or are you born with it?

When the doorbell rings, my stomach clenches. I make eye contact with Warren, and he nods, ever so slightly. When I hesitate, he smiles again, that same smile that has opened
so many doors for him. Disgusted with myself, I hobble down the hall and open yet another one.

Immediately Joel’s arms are around me. I look up and he’s grinning, all sweetness and innocence.

And then I know that I cannot go through with it.

I push him away. “Run!”

“Huh?” The smile turns to confusion, but he drops his arms.