Page 43 of Dirty Roulette

Chapter twenty-eight

Ryder

I’m playing an intense round of Madden with Nick. We both lean forward, eyes fixed on the screen. Some guy living in his grandma’s basement won’t stop cursing through his mic. Who can blame him, this game is trash. The old-school pixel graphic games aren’t in style like they used to be.

“This is laggy as fuck!” Nick’s fingers tap on all the buttons.

The controller clicks, and I throw a ten-yard pass, the game freezes and I’m about to throw the remote into the wall. When it loads, I watch another player jump twenty feet in the air and intercept the ball.

I cough up a laugh. “You’re shitting me.” The joysticks move back and forth, fingers tapping the buttons.

“I told you Madden is bullshit,” Nick grumbles, clicking his fingers on the remote harder as if it’s going to magically make the player do what he wants.

“Why do you two still play this game?” Jared plops onto the other side of the couch with a beer in hand.

“I dunno...” I lie and put the controller down as the defeated sign pops up on the screen.

I’m battling my psychotic demons, carving Payton’s name in my chest with a knife.

Playing video games and writing essays seem to distract me enough to not think about her for maybe a few minutes.

Jared sips on his piss water and asks, “Do you work tonight?”

Running a hand over the crease of my neck, I say, “No.”

“Sigma is having a get-together.”

I swallow the dry lump in my throat. “Sounds fun...”

“You need to quit being pissy. Sigma means hot bitches.” Nick leans over, grabbing the bong and lighter on the coffee table. “It’s better than playing shitty-ass games.” He starts to pack the bowl with fresh herbs.

“Right...” I say.

“What is wrong with you, man? You look like a caveman.”

“Get off my nuts, I’m fine.” At least he’s not criticizing my attitude on the field for our last home game. I dropped the ball on each pass, and my brain couldn’t seem to fire the neurons it needed to function. We still won, even after Coach threw me to the bench. But something just isn’t right.

“You’re not fine, though.” Nick clicks the lighter until it ignites a tiny flame. “When are you gonna quit moping?” He lights the herbs, filling the chambers with smoke.

“He got dumped.” Jared throws the dirty laundry out into the air. “Again.”

The water in the bong bubbles as Nick inhales a deep hit. “You’re seriously mad about a freshman?” He asks while holding in his weed.

“I dunno.” I lean over and grab the bag of pretzels on the table, downing a handful. I’m not sure why I like Payton so much, or what's come over me. I haven’t attempted to talk to her. She made it clear whatever we had was over, and it hurts more than Brittni’s cheating.

I’ve tried looking away but I watch her wave pretty poms at practice.

She makes me weak in the stomach. I’m constantly fighting with my head telling me to run over and demand she work it out with me.

I talk myself down and then it feels like someone put my heart through a paper shredder.

I don’t care enough to find all the pieces and tape it back together.

Charlie is a whole other problem, and I’m avoiding her like she’s an infectious disease. She’s tried calling, but I’m having a bad habit of declining each one and leaving her messages on read.

“You need to meet other chicks,” Jared says, sipping on beer with heavy eyelids.

I swallow another mouthful of pretzels. My throat shrivels up and is caked with salt as I say, “You know how close I was to both my sister and Payton. Meeting other chicks isn’t going to fix it.

I didn’t want either of them playing Roulette, and I.

.. I didn’t want to see Payton being forced to sleep with some random stranger. ”

Smoke pools from Nick’s nostrils. “Why is this stupid game still being brought up? This was almost two months ago. He got a little video of you two. Wasn’t that why you two fought at practice? Because he was going to post it?”

Jared places the empty can of beer on the coffee table. “Yeah, you and Payton slept together, so what’s the big deal?”

“No, we haven’t. We’ve messed around, but Brody harasses Payton non-stop. He won't leave her alone unless we make a full blown video. She’s a virgin, and no one cares.”

“He’s seriously taking Roulette that far?” Jared knits his brows and he cocks his head to the side.

“Not like it matters anymore. It's over between me and Payt. Brody sent her videos of me sleeping with Brittni, so it doesn't matter anymore.”

The bong bubbles as Nick takes in another hit, releasing a thick wave of smoke. “Come out with us then, maybe you’ll find a hot bitch,” he says in mid-cough.

“Yeah...” I fold the pretzel bag and scoot off the couch. “I’m gonna shower.”

“Shave that shit off your face, too,” Nick adds.

It doesn’t take me long to clean myself up and head out the door with Nick and Jared. Sigma is on the other side of the campus and when we get there, people are flooding into the house. It’s another drink-fest just begging for the cops to break it up.

Music plays inside, and several Sigma members push their way in with kegs.

The noise itself is enough to give me a hangover.

Nick finds a cozy corner with a group of girls pawing at his bong.

His weed bag bounces up and down as he gives them instructional time and tips for everything you need to know about the devil’s lettuce.

They have beer pong out in the back, and it’s Jared’s go-to. A slow way for him to get tanked. At some point, he’s going to find a girl to flex to and take home.

I flip a chair in reverse and sit leaning over the headrest with a coke.

Late nights drinking Hennessy and writing papers were starting to eat at me, so I’ve slowed down.

After Mom’s meltdown, I figured I should lay off and try not to use it as a crutch.

I don’t need anyone picking me up off the floor after I piss myself.

Plenty of chicks come up to me – they’re either sweet, twirling hair, or desperately showing off their tits. Regardless of how hot they are, I can’t seem to get myself interested in any of them. My dick is silent and nothing helps.

“Oh my god, where have you been? I miss you.” Brittni comes into my line of vision.

Of course she’s here. Any party with free booze has her name written all over it.

She flips back her wavy blonde hair and bats curly fake eyelashes.

God refuses to give me a break from this chick.

Without warning she stands in front of me, squeezes my chin to yank me over, and plants a kiss on my cheek.

“We should leave together.” She whispers in my ear.

“I’m so horny.” Vodka leaks off her breath.

She hasn’t changed. It’s like she gets off by messing with my head, pretending to give a shit.

“Come on, I know you miss me.” I struggle to hold back the flattery, but I dunno what the hell I miss anymore. It certainly isn’t her.

Autumn and Naomi come over with red cups attached to their hands like glue, eyelids are heavy on both of them. They’ve got those stupid, drunken smiles and giggles. Whenever I see them, they’re always drinking and sloppy.

Naomi ruffles her hand through my hair, and Brittni wraps her arms around my neck. “Oh my god, you are so hot in the moonlight.” Naomi’s annoying laugh makes me want to pour hydrochloric acid down her throat.

“Look at this face. You and your devilish good looks,” Brittni says harshly, taking my jaw between her fingers and forcing me to face them. “Don’t you just want to kiss him?”

“Payton and you are over... I heard the news.” Naomi sips on her drink. She doesn’t know how to mind her damn business. Her eyes flutter with cakey eyelashes. A thousand pounds of foundation layer on her face, I’m sure she used it as lipstick too.

“Thank God.” Brittni dips her head back in relief. “I can’t believe you’d lower your standards like that.”

Autumn wobbles like an inflatable arm flailing tube man. “Right... She's Trash.”

The only way they would have known anything about Payton calling it quits would be Charlie airing the drama on social media. I’m not surprised, but disappointed that she considers these three friends.

“Wouldn’t it be so cute if we got back together?” Brittni makes me want to gouge out my eyes with that image, planting a kiss on my cheek. All of my veins tangle up, and my head submerges into a thick cloud of smoke.

“Well, babe... I figured you’d get the hint by now.” I look her dead in the eyes. “I’m not interested,” I say.

Autumn and Naomi pull the oh-my-god jaw drop as if they can’t believe the words coming off my lips. I push Brittni’s arms off, and gently stand up, giving her no other choice but to back off.

She flashes me a sour look. “Fine, let’s leave this loser.” There it is. The eye roll complimented with her classic insult. The three of them walk back inside the house into the mesh of people.

I sit back down, pull out my cell, and find myself scrolling to my death.

Payton’s social media is a graveyard other than the dirty mirror picture with her dandelion tattoo.

It triggers a bitter ache in my chest, staring at her through the screen.

I want to touch her, and can’t figure out how to erase the knot of thorns living in the bottom of my gut.

Clicking on the comment box, I type out how gorgeous she is, how much I miss her, and a desperate apology.

A pathetic paragraph of emotions piling up.

When I finish, I press the backspace button until every letter disappears with nothing left.

Guys like me can’t share bottled-up thoughts. Not without someone calling me weak.

Might as well keep the persona of don’t fuck with me. It’s better if people see me as the asshole who beats faces in when I’m ticked off.

I watch Jared play another round of beer pong. He’s having a good winning streak, but getting too drunk for my taste tonight.

I need to take a piss and dip. I make my way down the narrow hall, weaseling past people loitering.

When I reach the end of the hallway and turn the knob, I’m greeted with Brittni’s sun dress at her ankles.

Bent over. Feverish cheeks. A guy has her by the waist, pounding, milking it like there is no tomorrow.

Well... I guess I’m taking a piss at home. Tired as hell, I leave the door wide open and walk off.