Spiked

SECOND DOOR TO THE RIGHT, I reminded myself, and left the gold room, eager to see what my quarters would look like. Nothing in this house was done halfway, so I could only imagine it would be lovely. I found the door and knocked it open with my toe—

“Oh my god,” I said aloud, heart sinking.

I was both entirely right and entirely wrong about…well…everything.

I was right that the room was lovely. It was done in a sort of outdoors theme, with leaf-printed wallpaper and reclaimed wood furniture. That furniture, however, included bunk beds, a drawing easel, and a window seat with stuffed animals— rams— all over it.

It was a kids’ room. And not Jacob’s old room— that might have been sweet— but a generic kids’ room, the place you park your rich friends’ progeny so they’ll be occupied while you drink in the hot tub. The bathroom had a typical tub with a striped curtain, and a little painted plaque by the hollow-log shaped soap dish said BRUSH THOSE CHOMPERS.

I dropped my bag down, hard, and fought back tears. Jenna was here, invited by Jacob’s parents, who had thought they left me off the invitation. They’d stuck me in the kids’ room and gave Jenna the princess suite. Jenna, who the school loved, who his parents loved, who Jacob used to love.

And he hadn’t said anything. Hadn’t done anything, other than get to the house first so he could have a quickie on the back deck. He hadn’t fought for me, hadn’t defended me— he had to have known what room I was being sent to, and he hadn’t so much as faltered.

Did he not know it was going to hurt me? Or did he not care? Either possibility was terrible— if he didn’t know, then he wasn’t paying attention, wasn’t listening, wasn’t thinking about me at all. And if he didn’t care…

I stepped into the bathroom, locked the door, and allowed my tears to fall— I’d learned long ago that trying to hold them in only made my face snottily red for hours. I sat on the edge of the bathtub and wept into one of the obnoxiously fluffy towels for at least twenty minutes, and was just hoisting myself out of my despair when I heard a small knock at the door.

“I’m just freshening up for dinner!” I said quickly— too quickly, and too loudly.

“It’s not Jacob. It’s me. Jenna, I mean,” Jenna said.

“Oh. Well, I’m just freshening—“

“It’s not Jacob, so there’s no way in hell I’m going to fall for that freshening up for dinner thing. Girls don’t ever actually freshen up. It’s what we say when we’re secret crying. Which is what you’re doing, right?” Jenna asked.

I stared at my own tear-stained face in the mirror and tried to work out what I was supposed to do with that statement. I didn’t get a chance to think on it too long, though, because Jenna opened the door and stepped inside.

“I locked that,” I said, surprised.

“And the little key thing is always above the door,” Jenna answered, holding up a tiny allen wrench. I sighed; Jenna motioned for me to slide over, then joined me on the bathtub’s edge.

“Look,” Jenna said quietly, “it is super, super shitty what his parents are doing to you. I want you to know that I seriously had no idea. I thought this was a group thing.”

“Yeah, well. It’s more of a Jacob-plus-Jenna-forever thing,” I said, avoiding Jenna’s eyes.

“No kidding. But I’m serious— I think it’s really shitty, and had I known this was the plan, I never ever would have come. I’ve got no interest in coming between you and Jacob, okay?”

I considered that, then smiled weakly at Jenna. “Thanks for saying that. But honestly, it’s not even you that’s the real problem. They want him to be with you. The school wants him to be with you. And…they’re not wrong. You fit with him way better than I do.”

“But I’m not interested in him. And he’s not interested in me. Which is usually a problem in a romantic relationship, unless you’re a Bachelor contestant or something.”

I exhaled. “Yeah, but my point is just: I do not seem suited for Jacob. Even I can’t believe we’re together— you know I’ve literally never been to a football game?”

“Jesus Christ, don’t you dare tell his parents that. They will skip the barbecue and just eat you for dinner,” Jenna said, looking genuinely scared for me.

“I know, I know. I’m just saying— Jacob was just typical womanizer Jacob when we first met. When we first hooked up, even. And then he got injured and everything changed. But now that he’s going to go back out there…”

“You’re afraid he’ll go back to the way he was. To being…well. Jacob Everett,” Jenna said, lifting her eyebrows. “Oh.”