Wildfire (Maple Hills, #2)(8)
Becky, Henry’s latest fling, whispers something into his ear, kisses him on the cheek, then disappears back into the party. Henry’s smirk is annoying Robbie more, which is great for every player on a secret countdown, waiting for him to go off.
Robbie stops staring everyone down and his arms lift slightly, like he’s about to clap, and everyone holds their breath, but one arm lowers and the other wraps around Lola’s hips. “Oka—”
“Do I have time to go to the bathroom?” Kris asks.
“No, you fucking don’t,” Robbie snaps. “Just fucking stand there and listen to the rules of the game before I lose my goddamn mind!”
There’s an echo of sighs as everyone besides me and Henry reach for their wallets and pile bills into Kris’ outstretched palm. Robbie waits with his arms folded tightly across his chest and, when all the money has changed hands, he starts again. “The next person to piss me off isn’t playing next season.” Everyone waits silently, biting their lips trying not to laugh. “You pull out a Jenga block: if it’s blank, the turn moves to the next person, then you stack it on the top of the tower.”
“So like regular Jenga then.” JJ grins.
Robbie ignores him, probably because he can’t bench JJ anymore. “If you get a dare, you either do it, do the forfeit on the back, or drink the two shots. If you’re not a two-hundred-pound hockey player, you only need to do one shot to make things fair. Whoever knocks the tower over has to streak down Maple Ave. Lola, you go first.”
“Wait,” Joe interrupts. “Why are there shots if there are forfeits on the back of the blocks?”
Robbie pins him with a look that sends a chill down my spine. “Because I made the rules and I say there are shots and forfeits.”
The game starts and in typical Titan fashion it’s chaos. Mattie has to send the last photo on his camera roll to his family group chat—he won’t tell us what it is, but he does step away from the table to take a call from his grandmother. Henry and Bobby have to switch clothes. Joe pulls a block that says, “give your underwear to the person opposite you” and Aurora’s friend Emilia argues with Kris that she’s definitely not opposite Joe; he is. By the time the game reaches our side of the table, Kris is wearing Joe’s boxers over his clothes and he takes two shots instead of making out with Emilia, who has a girlfriend and threatens to punch him if he even tries. Emilia pulls a blank block. Followed by Aurora doing the same. It’s hard to miss the disappointment.
I’m distracted by her cute pout when I hear a “hurry the fuck up, Muffin” from one of the guys. I push the block through the center carefully.
SHOW THE LAST MESSAGE YOU RECEIVED TO THE PERSON BESIDE YOU
I try not to drop the block as my hands start to sweat, flipping it over because whatever my forfeit is won’t be as bad as that.
SEND FAULKNER AN “I LOVE YOU” TEXT
Wrong.
People are asking me what it says, but my mind is running, working out how to get out of this without explaining why I need to. Aside from having no desire to get on Coach’s bad side again, my last-received text message was from my dad asking me to send him money. My stomach sinks with the weight of the ugly truth that he finds a way to snake his way into every situation and spoil it. I didn’t even read it fully before closing the conversation; it’s always the same shitty excuse anyway.
I’ll pay you back. I’ll pay you double back. I know a guy who knows the trainer and the race is a sure thing.
Or, once he’s had a drink, you have everything because of me. You’ve turned your back on this family. Won’t even help his own flesh and blood, you’re not my son. You think you’re better than us because you go to a fancy school, you’ll just fuck it up anyway.
Impatient for a response, Stassie plucks the block from my hand and reads it out to the group, who understandably laugh. I’d laugh, too, if the message was from anyone else. I take a shot in each hand, downing them in quick succession.
“Wow, you really didn’t want me to see those nudes,” Aurora says as I wipe a stray droplet with the back of my hand. “I’m kidding, don’t look so serious. It’s nice.”
“Nice?”
She nods. “That you’re not flashing around your private stuff. Private is nice.”
Private. Something I’m good at. Shame it’s for all the wrong reasons.
The game continues, round and round, shots are taken, dares done, insults flung in the direction of Robbie and JJ. Nate ends up having to cash app his sister money for not kissing the person to his left: Robbie. Bobby sends an “I miss you” text to Faulkner, Henry has to shotgun a beer and I end up shirtless for not kissing the nearest red head, which happens to be Lola. Kissing the girlfriend of my roommate and coach doesn’t feel like the best way to make it through the rest of my college career.
Emilia leans across to the tower, which is looking significantly more unstable than earlier. A grin spreads across her face as she reads from the block. “Nominate two people to kiss. You guys are so childish,” she mumbles, turning the block around to face us, lips tugging into a mischievous grin. “Well, since they’re the only people I know . . . I suppose . . . I’ll just have to choose Aurora and Russ.”
“What am I? A ghost?” JJ shouts from the other side of the table, throwing his arms up dramatically. “Our friendship is clearly a joke to you.”