Page 54 of Game Night: Truth or Dare

I named him. The word came out of my mouth, and I was pleased at how calm I sounded, not at all like my stomach was full of caterpillars.

But he shook his head. He smiled while he did it, a little melancholy twitch at the corner of his mouth, but the movement was firm. “I think I’m good, Ollie.” He raised his hand, touching the hickey gently, just barely hard enough to dent his skin. “You’ve given me one hell of a memento, and I don’t think the night’s going to get any more exciting than this.” There were a few chuckles as Ben shifted his weight and began to rise.

I opened my mouth and fifty things almost came out. I could have mocked, I could have teased, I very nearly said, Don’t go. But I just sat slack-jawed as he stood. With a quiet smile, he looked around the circle—I imagined he slowed a little when our eyes met, but I couldn’t be sure—until he’d made contact with everyone. “Thanks for the game, y’all. It was…” He chuckled. “It was certainly a night I’ll remember.”

“You okay?” Ayla asked, all concerned.

“Oh, yeah,” he said, way more convincingly than I had. He sounded almost jolly, like he was holding back a laugh. Then his eyes found mine again. “All fun and games, right, Ollie?”

Jesus, my mouth was dry. The way he stood, I could see the blemish on his neck, livid in the low light. I tried not to stare at it. “Yeah. Totally.” I swallowed, working up some spit. “All fun and games.”

He gave me a short, sharp nod, then headed out.

I wanted to follow him.

But it was my turn.

And everyone was staring at me.

I didn’t know if they could feel it, that prickling-hot heaviness between Ben and me? But with all the drama I’d raked up, and the way he’d just left, I knew I couldn’t chase after him. When it came down to it, I couldn’t figure out why I wanted to! Maybe I couldn’t work up the hatred for him I used to feel, but it wasn’t like I liked him. We weren’t friends. I could just let him fucking leave.

“Bianca, take my turn,” I said, still looking at the doorway he’d disappeared through. “I want a drink. Back in five.”

“Yeah, okay,” she said, clearly not buying it. Whatever. I was already on my feet.

I found Ben, as I’d hoped, in that side room off the exit where we’d all left our coats. He was shrugging into his jacket when I entered. He froze, and I froze, him by the ottoman and me framed in the doorway, and neither one of us said anything. Not for a while. The silence stretched between us, and I still couldn’t read his big brown eyes.

Finally, without me planning it, I said, “Sorry.”

He laughed, just a soft little chuckle, but as the air escaped his body, he seemed to relax. His shoulders softened and he bowed his head a little, looking at the carpet. “It’s really nothing. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I feel bad, though.”

He nodded a moment, considering, then finished sliding his arms into his jacket. “That’s a you-problem, Oliver.”

Ooof. Why did that feel like such a gut-punch? “Okay, dude. Whatever.” I shook my head, pretending the dismissal didn’t sting, then made to go.

“Wait.”

I stopped, holding steady in the doorframe, my back still turned to him.

“I’m sorry.”

I didn’t move. “It’s nothing.”

“I’m so fucking tired of this, Oliver.”

“Tired of what?”

“I know we don’t interact. We never have to talk to each other. But it’s a small campus, and you have this…presence, man. An energy. I don’t know how to put it. So even just, like, when I see you in the Commons or walking across the quad, I can feel it. This anger. Toward me. And I get why, but I never did anything to hurt you. Not deliberately. I mean, yeah, I could have talked to you before tonight but…” He shook his head, resetting. “And because it’s such a small campus, because I see you around, there’s this constant…buzz. A hum. Like a cold, prickly fog that always sort of hangs around, because you’ve decided that I’m to blame for something someone else did. Something our ex did.”

To say I was surprised would have been an understatement. I was…astounded. Gobsmacked. I had no idea he even thought about me at all. I certainly didn’t realize I had the power to…to hurt him. To make his life worse. To darken his day, just by being around. If I’d known that two hours ago, I’d have felt ten feet tall. It was, quite possibly, the thing I’d wanted most for the last year. But now I just felt shitty about it. Maybe it was the exhaustion in his voice. Or maybe it’s that it’s harder to hate someone once you’d given them a hickey.

I almost turned to face him, but I stopped myself. I didn’t want him to see what I was thinking. “Sorry,” I said. My voice was all thick and scratchy, so I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry. I…I didn’t realize.”

“Cool,” he said. It didn’t sound cool, but he also didn’t sound as resigned as he had a second ago. “Just maybe…relax. I’m not saying I want to be friends, but I also don’t want to hurt you. I don’t think I could hurt you, even if I did want to.”

I did turn then, finally. It was funny…he could hurt me. Badly. He had those extra years on me, and literal combat experience. He had the bulk of someone who worked out because he wanted to be powerful, not just because he wanted to be hot. I knew that when he said hurt, he didn’t mean physically, but the fact remained that he was a scary dude. Even so, right now he looked as weary as he sounded. There was something soft and melancholy about him. As I took in his tired eyes, the last traces of my spitefulness evaporated.

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