They Wish They Were Us(39)

I heave myself off the couch and push my way through the clump of sophomores in folding chairs, still hollering at what’s going down in front of them.

The back door is only a few feet away and the relief I feel when I push it open is so overwhelming. I sink to my knees on the wooden deck and lean my back against the house. I try to steady my breathing and look up. But the clouds are blocking out the stars. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to hear my heart beat. Breathe, I tell myself. Breathe.

The door opens behind me and breezy fabric passes over my head. Nikki.

“What’s your deal?” Her words are loud and sharp. It’s a side of her I’ve never seen. And it makes me want to run.

“It’s too much,” I whisper. “You’re humiliating them. That’s my brother.”

Nikki takes a step forward, towering over me.

“This isn’t like you,” I say. But her face is stone.

“Do you remember what happened when we had Showtime?” she asks.

“Of course.” I got off easy, reading out some stupid softcore scene with Quentin. We were last and everyone was so wasted at that point that no one even realized we were speaking. They had basically lost interest and it was over in sixty seconds flat.

“It was the absolute worst,” she says, her voice softening. I rack my brain to remember Nikki’s part, but I can’t. I can only picture Shaila hooting and hollering, moaning in her deep, gravelly voice with such over-the-top hilarity that everyone cheered. “I was with Robert,” Nikki continues. “We were almost at the end when Jake Horowitz got up from the back of the room.” She stops. “You don’t remember, do you?” I shake my head and bite my lip. Wind gusts from the ocean in the distance and a shiver runs up my spine.

“Ugh,” Nikki says with disgust. “Jake shoved Robert back into the crowd and said, ‘This is how it’s done, loser! This is how you screw her!’” Tiny tears appear in the corner of Nikki’s eyes and the memory floods my brain. He had mimed doing all sorts of things with Nikki in front of everyone, and afterward, she disappeared for the rest of the night. Shaila finally dragged her out of the Calloways’ third-floor bathroom when it was time to go home. Nikki never said how much it stung. How ashamed she must have felt. How we did nothing to stop it. We let it happen to her.

“Nikki,” I start, stumbling to my feet.

But she cuts me off. “The boys were always in charge. It’s our turn to make the rules,” she says. “If we can take it, so can they. Look how we turned out? Strong as hell. Brilliant bitches. We’re doing them a favor.”

I know she’s wrong. So, so wrong. But looking at her beautiful, furious face, I know there’s nothing I can say that will change her mind. She’s my friend. My best friend now. I just have to stay.

I say nothing and Nikki takes that to mean I’m on her side. She turns her chin up and retreats back into the house, leaving me alone in the cold night. I squeeze my eyes shut and will this all to be over, for graduation to come in an instant, for all of this to wash away.

A small vibration hums against my leg. I pull out my phone and see Rachel’s name. My stomach flips.

I know it’s been a while, but what do you think? Are you down to help us? We need you, Newman.

I stare at the words turning blurry on the screen. Maybe I need them, too.





ELEVEN





WHEN I GET home that night, I gaze at the stars on my ceiling. I’m so tired, but sleep won’t come. I try to remember the moments before everything changed. Before I became scared. Of the Players, and, more so, myself. What were we capable of? How far could we be pushed? How much would we sacrifice? When did my world shift?

It always comes back to one night in November of freshman year. It was a Friday, warmer than it should have been. The day after Thanksgiving. I remember because I had apple pie for breakfast and I could still taste the thick, sweet filling on my lips when Adam texted.

Be ready at 9, Newman. We’re having a night.

My skin tingled. I knew he was dating Rachel, but he was planning to hang out with me. It didn’t matter that the Calloways were in the Hamptons for the holiday. Or that Adam and his buddies had spent the past few weeks embarrassing me and my friends, forcing us to be available constantly. That night he sought me out on his own.

Okay, I responded. Should I bring my Player pack?

Nope. Night off. You deserve it.

The rest of the day was a slog and by 9, I had started to freak out. Where were we going? What was going to happen? When Mom asked me what I was up to, I just said hanging out with Adam. She didn’t ask questions. That was a plus, of course, having my parents trust that Adam wouldn’t lead me into something dark and dangerous.

Finally, I heard the familiar notes of crashing guitar chords coming from his Mercedes.

“Bye, Mom,” I called.

I skipped out the door and forced myself to slow my walk so I wouldn’t sprint to the passenger side. But when I went to pull the door open, Jake was there, too. He rolled down the window and flashed a sly smile.

“Get in the back, Newman.”

Shame warmed my neck and my skin felt sticky. I sunk into the leather and tried to catch Adam’s eye. But he kept his gaze straight ahead. I leaned forward to make out what they were saying above the music, but it was hopeless. Their voices were drowned out by the wailing chorus coming from the stereo.