The Believing Game (21 page)

In the hallway, I felt my body gradually begin to unclench. “That wasn't terrible,” I offered.

“Seriously. Rennie seems like a stand-up guy.”

I wanted to point out that he listened to us and let us explain like normal people. He alluded to our relationship without making crude sex jokes and he made us feel like worthwhile people without trying to convince us we had superhuman powers or some kind of epic adventure in our future. I couldn't do that, of course, but I filed it away, to bring up if Addison ever seemed willing to listen.

He stopped at the cafeteria. “And he's right. You can't risk missing a meal right now. They'll read all kinds of nonsense into that.”

“You won't come in? You should — we'll find Sophie and Jared and figure this out.”

“No!” Addison lunged at me. He grabbed my wrist and repeated, “No — listen, don't say anything to any of them.” He loosened his grip and rubbed my arm with his other hand. “I'm sorry. It's just — I don't know how to handle this yet. I don't want everyone to start talking smack.”

“Why don't you just eat lunch with us, then?”

“I need to go call Joshua.” Of course. “I'll see you later, I promise.” Addison kissed my cheek quickly and let go of my arm. He gently pushed me toward the dining hall. “Listen, if you see Wes, don't antagonize him. But maybe it wouldn't hurt for you to ask him what's going on. Say I'm really broken up over it, if you want. I couldn't deal with coming to lunch.”

“Yeah, okay. Sure.”

“Great. Love you, angel. Seriously.” I knew he meant for me to notice he called me angel. I guess that was going to be our new code after the past weekend. Addison headed back toward the dorm. I watched him sprint off and wondered what he'd tell Joshua.

In the dining hall, I wasn't sure who I'd sit with. A quick survey didn't uncover Sophie or Jared. I edged my way painstakingly through the sandwich line and assembled a turkey-on-wheat masterpiece, trying to stall time until Sophie shimmied in. Still nothing. Right by the beverage station, I saw Hannah. She was sitting at a table with two girls named Allison who had, for the past month or so, slowly been morphing into the same person.

“Hannah. I'm so glad to see you.”

She beamed. “Me too! I miss you.” And then she kind of grimaced, like she had said the wrong thing. I watched her fade right in front of me.

“Seriously. I miss everyone,” I told her. “I'm going through withdrawal.” Four of Allison's eyebrows shot up simultaneously. “Not literally.” Sometimes I forgot which things you couldn't say at McCracken Hill. “Metaphorically.” Blank looks. “I'm not really withdrawing from anything.”

“Let me help you.” Hannah jumped out of her seat and took the glass of seltzer off my tray. “I know it's hard when you have the shakes.”

I stared at her for a second and then noticed the slight upward curve of her lips. Seriously? Hannah Green had made a joke. A good joke. The Allisons stood up and fled in unison.

 

Later on, at dinner, I got assigned to a table by myself. Addison and Jared ate together. I hadn't been able to spot Sophie or Hannah so I swung by Sophie's room on the way back. Hannah was already stretched out on Sophie's floor. Sophie sat at her computer, typing away.

“What's going on?”

Hannah explained, “Sophia is opening up the healing lines of communication.”

“Oh yeah?” I said, shooting Sophie a look.

“Yeah,” Sophie replied. “I'm writing Josie.”

“Nice. Be sure to tell her about your bunk-bed
boyfriend
.”

“Wait — what?” Hannah sat straight up. “You and Jared?”

Sophie laughed. “Yes, zombie girl. Welcome to the land of the socially aware.” Hannah looked hurt, so I reached to ruffle her hair.

“Seriously? When did all this go on?” But as soon as she asked, Hannah cut herself off.

“Have you already forgotten your transformative time with Joshua?” I asked as a joke, but watched Hannah carefully. I don't know what I was worried about. She just seemed so disconnected.

“I'm working hard to forget it, yes.” Hannah didn't sound like she was joking.

“Whoa.” Sophie looked sharply at me, a little nervous about the venom in Hannah's voice.

“I'm sorry if you felt shut out up there,” I said, “when you were alone with him.”

Hannah just shrugged. “You did it before we went up to the cabin.”

“Yes, she did,” Sophie said, blowing her own bangs out of her eyes. “That also icked me out. I'm glad you two have sufficiently proven your trust. Next time, no one has to sleep on their own.”

“You might still have to. It's just you who hasn't,” Hannah pointed out.

Sophie looked surprised as she considered that. “I doubt it. I bet I make Joshua too nervous. It might qualify as a trust exercise for him.”

“He can't transform you if you don't do it,” Hannah declared breezily.

I didn't know how to react to that one. Sophie just rolled with it. “Then I guess I'll have to schedule him in.”

“Jared …” I encouraged, hoping she'd give up the details.

“… is acting really different since we got back to campus.”

“No, seriously?” It hadn't looked like a random hookup.

“I don't know,” she said. I could tell it mattered to her because she made herself so busy picking at a pulled thread on the carpet that she couldn't look Hannah or me in the eye. “Maybe it was just one of those things that only fits a particular context. We were up there and it felt right. Maybe we're back here and it feels wrong. To him. We'll see. It's still early and we heard so much crazy crap up there. Maybe Jared is still processing.”

“He strikes me as a slow processor,” Hannah said, and it made me laugh out loud. “What?” she asked, mystified.

“That's just the kindest way I've ever heard to say someone isn't so bright.”

“No, I didn't mean that. I consider Jared very bright,” Hannah told us. “Especially about people and feelings.”

“Just not today. Just not my feelings,” Sophie pointed out, and Hannah and I moved in to hold her hand, her shoulders. “Thanks, ladies.” Sophie sounded like she meant it. “I really needed company tonight to remind me not to take it all so seriously.”

No one mentioned Wes. I thought for sure that Hannah would bring him up, but she didn't. I wondered if Sophie knew anything about his move, but I didn't want to give anything away. Besides, if I brought it up out of nowhere, even Hannah would have to pick up on the fact that something was wrong.

Instead everyone acted as if he was already gone.

He wasn't really gone, though. He'd just moved to Freewill Hall. I found him the next morning at breakfast. Or maybe
because he knew Addison would be weight lifting with Jared, Wes found me.

“How's the war, doll face?” He sidled up to me in line and spoke out of the corner his mouth, like an actor in a black-and-white movie.

“Can we sit together?” It was such a relief to see him.

He answered calmly, “I don't know. You tell me.”

“I'm supposed to talk to you anyway.”

“Oh yeah, Joshua's appointed you ambassador to the free world?”

I laughed, but it didn't sound like a real laugh. It sounded like a frightened hiccup. “Addison asked me to talk to you,” I explained.

Wes's face seemed to freeze over. “We can sit, but I don't think we have a lot to talk about, Greer. I want to tell you good luck, I guess. If you ever need someone who hasn't been sucked in by a religious cult, well then, I'm your guy.” He smiled ruefully. “But otherwise, I'm out. Seriously.”

“We're a group of friends. Not a religious cult.”

“You're smarter than that. And you lie badly. You're freaked out. And if I can see it, they can see it. And then what'll happen?”

“There's nothing religious about what we do. Maybe it's spiritual, but everything about this place is supposed to be spiritual. Even the whole twelve-step thing — give yourself over to a higher power —”

“Does Joshua often refer to scripture, twisting accepted religious philosophy to fit his selfish goals? Has he tried to convince you that the group faces an unseen enemy who would disrupt a way of life you treasure? Does he emotionally manipulate members of the group? Cross physical
boundaries that make members uncomfortable? Does he dictate sexual practices?”

I felt like hitting Wes. “He does not,” I hissed at him, worried that someone might overhear us. “Joshua's never touched me like that.”

“No, he just ordered Addison to.”

“You're sick.”

“Deep down, you're worried that I'm right.”

“You never bought into it. Any of it.”

“Do you hear yourself? You sound like one of those Mormon girls whose husbands have thirteen other wives. Addison's a great guy. You know I see that. But that doesn't mean he's worth dealing with Joshua.”

“You've never felt comfortable around Joshua.” Neither did I, but I wasn't going to admit that out loud.

“Come on, now. Joshua's never felt comfortable around me.”

I couldn't argue with that. Up in the Poconos, Joshua had seemed to enjoy needling him. Picking on him and then isolating him.

“Why do you think Joshua has never acted comfortable around me, Greer?”

I blinked. He waited. I blinked again.

“Seriously?” he asked incredulously. “Greer, it's that I'm black.”

I sat back. “That doesn't make any sense.”

“Of course it does. You really don't get it, do you? Greer, you all are seriously clueless. Joshua makes you pay for food. He moves into Sophie's house. He has Hannah sleep in his bed. You're not an idiot. You have to have some measure of self-preservation. Why don't you speak up?

“I know he stayed over in your room. And I can't imagine that didn't freak you the hell out. So what did Joshua say when you didn't hop to it?”

I bit my lip. “He implied that maybe it was because he was black.”

Wes slammed his hand on his food tray. The milk in his cereal bowl sloshed. “Exactly!” He narrowed his eyes at me. “You can tell me, Greer. Honestly. Did you not want Joshua sleeping in your bed because he's black?”

“No. I didn't want him in my bed because he's old. And kind of creepy.”

“Yeah, that's right.” Wes rubbed his head. “I try to keep an open mind, but sometimes you white kids are so stupid. You're so afraid of being called racist. That's the worst thing in the world, right? So you'd rather have a slumber party with some crazy homeless guy than have him suggest that you don't like black people.”

“First off, he's not homeless.”

“Have you seen where he lives? Has Addison?” I shook my head. “Dude's homeless.”

“Even if that worked on me or Hannah — I'm just saying — if it did … hit some kind of nerve — it wouldn't work on Addison. He just doesn't worry about what people believe about him. He lives out his sense of integrity. He always says that.”

“People who are actually confident don't walk around talking about how confident they are. I know you get that.” I sat still. Silent and thinking. Wes kept pushing. “Why do you think Joshua starts off every story about meeting Addison by describing him as a skinhead? Like before Joshua showed up and taught him otherwise, Addison was eating Special
KKK for breakfast? Addison doesn't even remember most of the past few years. That was one extended alcoholic blackout. His biggest fear is that he's secretly some raging monster. So Joshua convinces him that he's the only thing harnessing that monster.”

“You've spent so much time thinking about this.”

“Well, it's not like the asshole was going to let me speak or anything. So I watched.”

“But it doesn't matter what you saw. Or what you say. You left. So now Joshua gets to be the wise mentor and you join the line of people who've betrayed Addison.” Wes nodded sadly, but he didn't say anything. “That's it? You're not even going to defend yourself?”

“I don't have to defend myself. I don't want to sit around hearing about how useless I am and watching my friends plan a war against vegetarians. Most people would call that a healthy choice on my part.”

“It's a metaphor!”

“But it's
not
. You say that because that's how you've decided to make it okay. But Joshua does not mean it symbolically. He means there's going to be a war. He's alluding to you killing people because they won't eat meat. That's, like, schizophrenic behavior.”

“What changed between last night and this morning?” I asked Wes. When he grimaced, I knew I was onto something. “Something happened. Because last night you wanted to confront Addison, right? You decided we needed to go to the administration because the whole Joshua thing was interfering with his progress, his recovery. You have to know that if you leave, he'll just get closer to Joshua. I mean, I can't even get through to him now. You didn't give me any time to figure
it out either. Or a heads-up. You just left. Which means you must have requested a transfer as soon as you woke up and you must have been convincing or the administration would have tried conflict resolution.”

Wes played with his plastic fork. He twirled it in his fingers. He seemed to be making up his mind about something.

“I think you owe me an explanation.”

“Yeah? I don't owe you shit, Greer.” But his voice softened a little. “But I do wish you'd stay the hell away from that crazy mofo, so I'm going to show you this.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He skipped it across the table to me. “Go on. Check how Mr. Integrity spends his computer lab sessions.” I unfolded it slowly. “For the record, I moved out to light a fire under his ass. We talked the night before. I tried to get him to actually look closely at the whole Joshua dynamic, but he wouldn't even go near it. I figured, maybe if he wakes up and his world is a little different, that might get him thinking. I care about Addison.”