The Games We Play

24. Twenty-Three - Tess

Twenty-Three - Tess

I smooth my hair down in my mirror and notice the fierceness my blue eyes carry now. My bed is made, bathroom spotless, and the rest of my house is for once…clean. I’ve found a peace within myself and I have the drive to do simple in-home tasks again.

Roxy has especially enjoyed the runs we’ve started taking in the mornings. My mind is clearer than it’s been in years, possibly ever, and I don’t hate the reflection staring back at me.

I glance at the note in my hand that tells X where I’ll be this weekend, then I crumple it and toss it into the trash.

Let this be another game.

When he shows up and can’t find me, it’ll make it all the better when he does.

Ryan honks from the street and I grab my bag and Roxy’s belongings before locking the door behind me. He’s thumping some upbeat music and I can’t fight the smile that spreads across my face .

“You’re very awake this morning,” I say and he opens his door to jog around the car and grab my bag, tossing it into the trunk, and I let Roxy get in the back seat.

“Get in. I want to show you something.”

I raise a brow, but slide into the passenger seat, clicking my seat belt into place.

“Have you seen this?” Ryan holds his phone up to my face.

Serial Killer in Whispering Pines?

“You can’t believe everything you read,” I wave him off.

“Don’t ignore this. You shouldn’t be staying by yourself. They found Tori and Jackson at a fucking party, Tess. What if we had been there?”

A slimy feeling coats my insides at keeping secrets from my best friend.

“But we weren’t. Can we please just enjoy a weekend on the lake?” I point out the windshield as if to say, let’s go.

“Something is different with you. I like it,” he says with skepticism, like if he stares at me long enough, he’ll unearth my secrets.

After the party, I cleaned my house out entirely of alcohol and flushed my weed down the toilet. Before smoking and drinking was a pastime, a habit that I had to do to sleep. But since X…I’ve stopped. I don’t need it—more like it stopped working. Because the only thing that I crave now is sinking my knife into flesh and taking someone’s life.

“Okay? You’re being weirder than normal,” I respond.

Ryan’s eyes widen slightly before his lips curl into a smile. “When was the last time you drank?”

I scoot closer to the passenger door, not liking how excited he is getting with his question.

“Couple weeks…maybe?” I shrug .

“That’s awesome, Tess!” He reaches across the center console and wraps his arms around me, and I stiffen at the touch. “I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks, so uh—can we like…go now?” He boops my nose like he has since we were kids, and I shove him back playfully. “You’re such a weirdo.”

“Do you have everything you need?” he asks as he pulls onto the road.

“Yup,” I say, popping the p and setting my feet on his dash.

We pull up to Ryan’s house where his dad’s truck doors are ajar and the tailgate down, exposing the cooler shoved in the bed. I hesitate, grabbing my bag, lost in thought about what X could be doing right now, and Ryan places a hand on my arm.

“Okay. Look, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“No, I do.” I quickly rectify.

“You sure?” he asks.

Before I can respond, Mr. Collins steps outside wearing shorts, sandals, and a fitted T-shirt. A total contrast to his executive bank attire, I’m accustomed to. And when did he get so many…muscles? Seriously, the dude works for a bank, but his T-shirt is hugging every defined line perfectly. Roxy bolts for him, begging for attention.

“Could you not look at my dad like you did those masked creeps? I don’t know which is worse,” Ryan grumbles and pushes off the truck.

“I wasn’t—” I start, but he’s already out of earshot. Was I ?

At least pretend that everything is normal and you aren’t getting the best sex of your life , I scold myself.

“Is everything okay?” Mr. Collins looks between me and his son, climbing into the passenger seat .

“Yes,” I say. And climb into the seat behind Ryan, Roxy settling in beside me.

It’s a two-hour drive to the lake and Ryan finally cuts the silence between him and his dad by turning on the radio. The two-story lake house is just as I remember it. White with black trim tucked back at the end of a long narrow road surrounded by towering pines. I step out of the truck, Roxy nearly knocking me down to race to the water, and inhale deeply. The air even smells better out here. I close my eyes and let the sun soak into my skin and warm my sweater and jeans.

“It’s like hitting a reset button, isn’t it?” Mr. Collins asks. I glance over to see him staring out at the lake. Ryan’s dad owns this place now, but it used to be the getaway for the entire Collins family. Ryan’s mom included. I wonder if his dad thinks back to those memories and wishes he had done things differently. Ryan doesn’t talk about his mom and why his parents split—well, why his mom left.

“Yeah,” I respond and offer a warm smile. “It is.”

He rakes a hand through his hair and his shirt rides up over his muscled abdomen. I jerk my head away before I get caught staring and Mr. Collins grabs our bags from the back.

“Last one in, has to sleep in the guest room!” Ryan shouts as he picks up the game we played as kids and takes off running toward the lake, shedding out of his pants and shoes. My inner-child perks up and muscle memory kicks in. I run out of my shoes and race past Ryan as he gets one foot hung up in his shorts.

“You’re going to catch pneumonia!” Mr. Collins shouts, but we don’t care.

My feet thunder across the dock, and I dive into the water. While it’s not freezing, it’s definitely a cold shock to the system. When I break the surface, Ryan is leaping into the air in a cannon ball fashion.

I laugh and am hauling myself back out of the water before he ever breaks the surface, my teeth chattering and body shaking.

“That’s not fair! You’re fully clothed,” Ryan chastises when he treads the surface.

“It’s not my fault you wanted to show off your man-bod.” I drop my foot to the surface and kick the water in his direction. “I get the garden tub,” I shout over my shoulder, wringing the water from my hair as I grab my bags and make my way to my room for the weekend.

***

After cutting the cherry tomatoes, I place them in the bowl full of fresh salad for dinner. Mr. Collins has the grill going out back filled with corn on the cob, steaks, and onion. While Ryan is making a sad attempt at warming up a can of beans.

“You better hope you marry a woman who can cook,” I tease.

“It’s not my fault they’re burning,” he scraps the stuck bits off the bottom of the pan and stirs it in.

“It’s because you have the heat too high. What do you eat when your dad’s away?” I turn the burner down and put the pan into the sink, beans and all.

“Take out,” Ryan shrugs and I shoo him out of the way. He takes a seat on a barstool at the kitchen island .

“You better marry up, is all I’m saying.” I grab a clean pan and open the back-up can of beans. It’s almost like his dad knew this would happen and was prepared.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you, actually.” My body stutters at his words as I open the can, but I don’t let him see it. He’s using that serious tone of his that usually leads nowhere good. “I’ve kind of been seeing somebody.”

Internally I relax. Normally, these conversations go a totally different way. “Oh?”

“Yeah, she’s—”

“Who’s ready to eat?” his dad asks, cutting Ryan off. The aroma of the perfectly seasoned steak fills the kitchen and I glance at Ryan, who subtly shakes his head.

“The beans are a few minutes from warm.” I smile at Mr. Collins. “We had a mishap.”

He chuckles and sets the pan of steak on the counter. “Maybe Tess can teach you a few things, Ryan. Domesticate you a little.”

Ryan snorts and glances at me out of the corner of your eye. I give a forced laugh. A heaviness settles in the air and I stir the beans to keep my hands from fidgeting.

“Okay, then,” Mr. Collins claps his hands together. “Let’s eat, then we can sit around the fire out back. Make smores?”

“Really dad? We’re not kids anymore.” Mr. Collins’ gaze drops at Ryan’s words.

What is with him ? I’d give anything if my dad wanted to sit around with me and just … exist .

I give him a you-can’t-be-serious-look, and glance over at Mr. Collins.

“I’d love that,” I say, and Ryan rolls his eyes in my periphery .

When he started college and his dad took this new job, things between them became…strained. But it’s clear Mr. Collins is trying while he is here, so why can’t Ryan?

Suddenly Mr. Collins’ phone rings and Ryan stiffens.

“Uh, excuse me,” he says, while digging out his phone. His shoulders tense and he glances between us. “Start without me. I’ll be right there.”

He disappears onto the back deck and Ryan waves his hand out as if to prove his point. I sigh and pull the beans from the burner, and Ryan helps me set the table. As the plates clatter onto the table, he says, “Happy Thanksgiving to us.”