The Games We Play

2. One - Tess

One - Tess

I stare at my phone after sending the message that could make me hide my face for the foreseeable future. What is it they say?

Shoot your shot , well, my shot has been shit the past year. Quite frankly, my entire life has been shit for several years. Now, it’s bleeding into my sex life.

A wet tongue licks my hand beside me. My golden retriever, Roxy, whines with her puppy dog eyes working on overdrive.

“You want to go out?” I ask, and she leaps off the couch, bounding to the door. I glance at my discarded phone and let the embarrassment of another rejection wash over me. Can it really be a rejection if there is simply never a response?

No, now I just sound crazy. No response means not interested .

Grabbing Roxy’s collar from the hook by the door, my phone chimes, and I race to see if it’s Seth. He’s this really cute boy from my English class. I nose dive across the arm of the couch and grab my phone, pulling it closer to my face than I need .

And I deflate.

It’s not Seth. Instead, it’s a text from Ryan. My best friend since grade school says his dad got back early from his out-of-town business trip.

So much for drinking myself into oblivion at his house tonight . Technically, I’m not twenty-one yet, and Mr. Collins is adamant about no underage drinking inside his house. That’s responsible of him, I guess.

Me: No worries. I’ll just snuggle up with Jack here tonight.

Pocketing my phone, Roxy’s nails tip tap on the hardwood floor as she does the impatient dance of her people. I barely have the door open and her leash on before she’s dragging me into the yard. I check my phone when Ryan’s following text comes through.

Ryan: Jack?

Before I can respond, he’s calling me.

“Hey, sweetie. Long day?” I muse.

“Cut the crap. Who’s Jack? Please tell me he’s not from that degrading dating app, and I’m going to find your body mutilated tomorrow.”

I would be so lucky to have sex so good it would kill me , I think.

“His last name is Daniels, and he goes great with a cup of coke.” There’s a moment of silence where I imagine Ryan’s face-palming at his antics, and I laugh into the phone.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s so funny that I have to worry about you because of your bad decisions.”

“Hey,” I defend. “That last guy was totally not my fault.”

“Tess, you were high out of your mind by the time I got there. It was a miracle I found you at all with the broken English you speak when you’re intoxicated.”

I drop the phone to my side. I never let on just how much that night scared me. Ryan is right. I have to think before I make choices. Now more than ever. I never told him the full extent of what happened that night. I’m not sure I ever will. But I am playing it smarter. I’m trying to hook up with a guy from school who wants to become a doctor. Too bad I just don’t entice those guys.

“Hello?” I jump and pull my phone back up.

“Sorry, I’m walking Roxy.”

It sounds like his hand covers the phone when he says, “It’s Tess… No, I haven’t…” I look around at the quiet neighborhood. Being the only one out at this time of night makes it nice. I zone out as Ryan talks to his dad, Mr. Collins.

He works for a bank that has branches in twenty-six different states. In his job description, he’s required to visit the other locations as a quality manager. It’s usually just Ryan and me since Dad sold my childhood home and bought me this one closer to Ryan. Then he got Roxy to make up for his disappearing act two years ago.

“Hey, Dad wants to know if your sink is still leaking,” Ryan says into the phone.

“Oh, um…I haven’t tried it yet,” I admit. I meant to, but then zoned out and have had no reason to use the sink.

“Have you eaten today?” Ryan asks, although his tone tells me he already knows the answer.

I bite my bottom lip and recount my day’s events. My shift at the restaurant ended four hours ago. It was busy, and I didn’t have time to stop. Then when I got home, I collapsed on the couch and… Well , shit .

“Right,” he takes my silence as admission. “Dad said you can come over for dinner. It’s his signature special,” Ryan says enticingly. My stomach growls at the mention of any kind of food.

“Delivery pizza?” I smile .

“You know it. I’ll come pick you up.”

“I can drive myself,” I retort.

“Yeah, but it’s the gentleman’s thing to do.”

I debate my options. Honestly, I’m not sure if there is a scrap of human food in my house. I should probably eat something more than my regular liquid diet of alcohol.

Sighing, I say, “Okay. I’ll be ready in ten.”

I check my phone once more.

Nope , Seth is definitely not interested .

I creep on his profile and learn that he’s out at a party with some friends who are also in our class. When I swipe to a picture of his tongue down some other girl’s throat, I want nothing more than to stay home and drown myself in my sorrows.

Roxy pulls at her leash and drags me behind her. I swear this dog would move in with Ryan and his dad if I let her.

“Fine, we’ll go.” I’ll just put on my facade that everything is fine until I get home. I scare myself sometimes at how easily people believe the lie.

***

Mr. Collins doesn’t say much during dinner. Five minutes into us trying to sit at the table together, he got a call that he couldn’t ignore. Ryan shrugs, but I know it bothers him that his dad has been more distant since taking this new job.

We move to the couch, where Roxy quickly makes herself comfortable .

“Want to watch a movie?” Ryan is cute in a way that other girls fall all over him, but to me, he’s a brother. I can’t see past that, and I never will. He hasn’t dated anyone, and when I bring it up, he says he’s waiting for the right person. Which in my mind, translates to he’s waiting for me.

“What? No hot date tonight?”

His ears pink slightly, and he shifts on the couch. “Why do you?”

“I messaged Seth, but his pictures say he’s preoccupied, and he never responded, so I guess not.” I shrug.

“Is that a yes to a movie?” Ryan says, his voice full of hope even though he tries to act like it’s no big deal.

“Sure. You pick.” I settle into my regular spot and pull a blanket up around my chin. Roxy wiggles closer until she’s settled on my legs and feet. Ryan sits with his legs reclined and one hand out like he’s hoping I’ll hold it. I notice these little things he does. Things other people may be completely oblivious to. I’ve been honest with him and laid out exactly how I feel. But the idiot still holds hope.

Too bad there is zero hope for me…or us.

He picked a rom-com chick flick, thinking that’s what I’d want to watch, I’m sure. But honestly, I’d rather have blood and gore. Action where some guy will stop at nothing until he finds his girl. I want death and vengeance. Not a meet-cute where everything is sunshine and rainbows.

That’s not real life.

That’s not my life.

When it gets to the classic love confession, I zone out, grab my phone, and scroll through videos of masked men. The kind at haunted houses, covered in fake blood and carrying weapons of various calibers. The danger they emit is the kind of romance I want. You may or may not walk away from it. The thrill of anonymity and the sense of being watched wherever you go would be exhilarating. I’m sure if I actually went to therapy and talked about my delusions, they would link it to something from my childhood, but who needs therapy when you have sex and booze?

I snicker. That’s why you need therapy , Tess .

“What’s so funny?” Ryan asks. I look up and realize the credits are rolling on the screen.

“Oh, just self-diagnosing my issues.”

“Tess,” Ryan uses his serious voice. The one he only pulls out when he’s about to lay something heavy on me like, ‘ You need help ,’ or ‘Talk to me, and we’ll work through whatever it is .’

“Ryan,” I deadpan, avoiding his gaze.

“Fine. Don’t talk to me. What are you watching that was more interesting than the movie?”

I turn my phone and show him the current video of a masked man transitioning to shirtless and covered in tattoos.

God, did I mention the tattoos?

Waiter ! I’ll take one to go, please ! My smile widens. The voices in my head are another indication I need therapy.

“Maybe I should be worried for your dates.” Ryan scrunches his nose. “Is that seriously what you’re into?”

I shrug and keep scrolling. I don’t expect him to understand. He had a stable childhood. His only mommy issues are he didn’t have one around to fuck him up. His dad is the perfect parent. At every school function, with a genuine smile and involved in whatever sport Ryan is playing for the season .

He didn’t take this new job that required travel until Ryan was in college. He still got the privacy of living alone, basically without the cost of it.

“Ryan,” Mr. Collins says as he steps into the room. Roxy’s ears perk, and she jumps from her comfy spot to beg Ryan’s dad to pet her. “I have to fly out in the morning. Something came up in Tulsa.” He always looks so manicured and put together. His hair always has the perfect length and style, with frosted sides highlighting his few gray hairs. His beard is perfectly groomed, with not a single hair out of place. It’s thick and perfectly maintained as if he belongs on a modeling cover for middle-aged men. He and Ryan share the same dark green eyes, and it’s easy to see the resemblance between the two. My gaze locks on his gray sweatpants, hugging low on his waist.

Mr. Collins lifts his hand to scratch at the nape of his neck, lifting the hem of his T-shirt enough to show defined muscle and a trail of hair disappearing under the elastic of his pants.

He looks fucking sexy as hell— And that’s my cue to leave .

“I should probably get going,” I state, standing and folding the blanket before placing it back quicker than necessary.

Ryan leaps over the back of the couch and grabs his keys. I find Roxy’s discarded leash, and she runs out when the door opens.

“Thank you for the pizza!” I shout over my shoulder and step into the cool fall air, refusing to look at Mr. Collins again in those damn gray sweatpants.

** *

My house is silent after Ryan leaves. The television muted, and I lay on my back, staring at the popcorn ceiling. If I look hard enough, I can make out images in the shadows from the topography of the rough design. My medication sits on the table next to the nearly empty fifth of Jack Daniels. Dad may not call and check up on me, but he makes sure my sanity medicine is delivered to my door every six months.

They’re to help with my mood, according to Dad and my virtual therapist. According to them, I have depression—but not just normal depression. Mine rears its ugly head whenever it wants, and things get really messed up fast. The medicine helps control that, and so far, I haven’t had any episodes .

Honestly, they stopped when my mom finally died.

I was free.

“Way to look out, Dad,” I slur and salute my head in the air.

Roxy lets out a low growl, and I jerk my head toward the front windows. She isn’t your typical dog to bark at nonsense. The hair on my arms stands when her deep guttural growl comes from her again.

“What is it, Rox?” I stand and sway on my feet. This is one of those times you don’t realize how intoxicated you are until you move.

Roxy lets out a quick bark and faces the front door. I move my steadying hand from the couch to the wall and slowly make my way to the door.

Maybe Ryan forgot something ?

The room spins, and I cradle my head with one hand, thinking that it will make everything come into focus. Roxy’s growl turns into a whine, and she scratches at the door. “Did you seriously wake me because you wanted to go outside?” My mouth is so dry my voice comes out hoarse.

Annoyed, I yank the door open to let Roxy fend for herself. I immediately scream, regretting that decision, and grab for her collar, but she slips through my hands.

From my bent position, I slowly tilt my head up, letting my drunken mind make sense of what is happening.

A man stands on my porch in a gray hoodie, dark-wash blue jeans, and a black ski mask that covers his entire face.