Games
People sure do love to play games. The psychological struggle for power is something all of us have engaged in at some time or another. Whether conscious or not, we have all played. The question is, why?
BREEZE
POCKET HAD NOT phoned since she lost the baby. I missed her, even more so with the holidays upon us. I had spent Thanksgiving with her every year since my mom bailed and it was going to be weird not to share the wishbone with my best friend. I wondered if she was doing any better than Liam. He had been off the rails since she called, constantly getting into fights and drinking himself into a nightly stupor.
The cops brought him to the house several times after finding him wandering The Commons drunk. The guys who attacked him ended up dead, and while the cops had no leads, everyone knew it was Liam. Poor Shame was at his wits end and there was nothing I could do to help.
The guys were growing their beards back for hockey season. The only thing in the clubhouse that came and went as often as Shame’s beard was his emotions. One day he was nice and spoke politely, the next, he snapped or avoided me all together.
I had been up helping Viv prepare Thanksgiving dinner since early that morning. The guys were all at the clubhouse, some with their wives and girlfriends. Liam showed up, which I know made Shame happy, although he wouldn’t admit it. Children ran all over, leaving a trail of messes in their wake I would be responsible for cleaning up later.
Lance and Mrs. Higgins joined us for dinner. We filled three full tables as we joined hands to say Grace, which was at Mrs. Higgins’ insistence.
After a round of Amens, Shame chuckled, “You know, Mrs. Higgins, most of us are beyond blessings.”
“God rest your daddy’s soul. He was a God-fearing man, Seamus.”
Liam and I exchanged wide-eyed glances. Shame wasn’t one to be challenged.
“Yes he was, ma’am.” Shame laughed. “Yes he was.”
“You are too, son. I know. I taught you in catechism, remember?”
“How could I forget? But I’m not sure God has a place for me anymore.”
“You bite your tongue, young man.” She motioned a symbol of the cross in front of her chest. “You need to go to confession.”
Shame let out a hardy laugh. “Pretty sure the church would blow up when I was done.”
The room fell deathly silent. I exhaled when Dozer asked to pass the mashed potatoes, which promptly ended the discussion.
It had been interesting to watch Shame interact with Mrs. Higgins. He pulled back with her. I wouldn’t say he cowered, but she definitely had more leeway with Shame than most. Like he respected his elders. I had to bet Berg taught him that.
Later in the evening, I challenged Shame to a game of checkers. After some reluctance, he finally agreed and sat on the couch. I pulled up a chair on the other side of the coffee table. He beat me five games straight, but we were having fun and so relaxed together I didn’t care if I lost every game. I didn’t want the night to end.
On the sixth game, I was finally close to a win and felt determined to wipe the smug grin off his face. Then Sabina walked in and ruined my evening.
Her jeans were tight and the half shirt she wore showed off her flat stomach. I laughed inwardly at the woman who was far too old to be dressed like a teenager.
She inserted herself right into our fun, pawed at Shame’s thigh and nuzzled into his side. She then glanced at the game and smiled. “Oh, I wanna play.”
“We’re finishing up a game,” I said rudely.
“It’s okay,” Shame said. “I have some stuff to do for the club. You two should play.”
“But it’s Thanksgiving,” I whined.
“Work doesn’t stop for holidays. Besides, you two should get to know each other.”
I didn’t want to get to know Sabina. In fact, I had been exerting incredible restraint by not choking the life right out of her. But fine, if he insisted on us socializing, I would comply and maybe have a little fun in the process. We could probably get through one game before I killed her. “Okay,” I frowned as he strolled away.
I felt mad and frustrated.
The air in the room grew rich with tension, or maybe mutual disgust. Once the board was set, Sabina made her first move and then I made mine. We exchanged turns again, and again, both our gazes remained on the board.
“So, you like Shame,” she said as she made another move . . . or was she asking?
Either way, she baited me, which was so blatantly pathetic I huffed a laugh. “He’s been good to me,” I said, jumping her piece.
She moved another piece in line for me to jump it, which was so foolish it was hard to determine if it was intentional. “It won’t last,” she said, her lip snarled.
With gritted teeth, I jumped her piece, removed it from the board and then held it in my hand, massaging the rigid edges with my thumb. I didn’t hate her because she was beautiful or because she was screwing Shame. That was part of it, but I wasn’t that insecure. No, I hated her because she was a bitch.
“Your move,” I challenged and waited. With her eyes now on me, she slid another piece forward, again where I could jump it. “Do you even know how to play this game?” I asked.
“Oh, I play the game very well, little girl,” she said slowly and in a way I assumed was threatening, although I wasn’t intimidated.
“Then try making a move that counts,” I snapped.
“Okay, I will.” I flinched as she shoved all of the pieces to the side of the board, but then I smiled because I had gotten under her skin. “Shame is mine and don’t think for a second you can come between us.”
Folks we had a winner, and not in the game of checkers, but life. She was jealous of me and I felt remarkably confident as I leaned forward. “I live here, and every day, we grow a little closer.”
“You’re so naive. You’re nothing more than his maid. While you’re here scrubbing toilets, he’s fucking me.”
I straightened my spine. “Well, I guess that makes you nothing more than his whore.”
“Fucking bitch,” she roared, launching forward over the table.
Her palms connected with my chest, sending me sailing backward in the chair. My ears rang as my head bounced off the floor. I tried to roll to the side but she managed to climb on top of me. Her hands wrapped around my throat and she looked at me with unfiltered rage. As my head filled with warm blood, I clawed at her hands and fought for air. My eyes shot to the side, looking for anything to hit her with. I launched my hips in the air but failed to shove her off of me.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I heard Shame yell, right before Sabina was pulled off of me.
I rolled to my side, coughing violently. Shame held Sabina back by both of her arms, but she still managed to kick me in the side with her foot. I groaned in pain.
“Calm the fuck down.” Shame spun Sabina around. “Sit down,” he commanded.
She nodded with fear in her eyes and sat on the sofa. I smiled right at her as Shame knelt beside me. “Are you all right?”
For dramatic effect, I gulped as much air as I could and pulled him close. Glaring at Sabina, I managed to force tears. “No, I’m not all right. I thought she was going to kill me.”
Sabina rolled her eyes, “Oh, please. She’s playing you. Can’t you see that?”
Shame snapped his head around. “Get the fuck out!”
Her expression blazed with anger, and I ducked my head to cover a smile.
“She called me a whore,” Sabina complained.
“I don’t care. You had no right to put your hands on her.”
Shame helped me up and ran his hands over my face. His worried eyes scanned my features. “I’m okay,” I said to ease his concerns. I was more than okay. In fact, I was downright elated with how things had turned out.
“You’re right,” Sabina said sweetly, as she approached us. “Breeze, honey, I had no right to attack you. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I’m pretty competitive and I don’t like to lose. Please forgive me.” Her hand extended and I stared at it.
She continued playing the silly game. Did she think Shame would fall for it? He was too smart for her tricks. But he looked at me like he expected me to respond. “What?” I asked with my mouth agape.
Sabina grinned.
“She’s trying to apologize,” Shame said, nudging at my hand with his.
“Seriously?” I shouted, and then lowered my voice. “She tried to kill me.”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” he said, and then slid in front of me, putting his back to Sabina. He gripped my face tenderly. “She’s important to me. It would mean a lot if you two could get along.”
For Shame, I was going to have to set pride aside and make nice with the queen of all bitches. My gut hurt, my heart pounded slowly and real tears threatened to spill. She had defeated me, managed to gain the upper hand, and I couldn’t come up with a counter move. My lip quivered as I glanced over his shoulder to see Sabina’s triumphant grin. I brought my gaze back to Shame and quietly whispered an agreement.
“Good.” Shame smiled. “Now shake hands and make up.”
“Oh, I think we should hug it out,” Sabina said, holding her arms out. There was no way in hell I was hugging her, but then I caught the look of disappointment on Shame’s face. “Friends hug and I think we are going to be great friends.”
For Shame, I walked into her arms. She squeezed tight, her head pressing hard to the side of mine. “I win. Don’t fuck with me again,” she snarled.
“You’re still a whore,” I whispered back and released her as I sent Shame a bright smile. “Happy?” I asked him.
“Very,” he responded.
“I’m off to bed, then. Good night.” My words were sweet, but I spit nothing but pure hatred at Sabina, before I turned and went to my room.
Gus was on the bed. He put his head in my lap and I scratched at the top of his fur. “Can you eat her for me, please?”
He exhaled as if as disappointed as I was Shame wouldn’t allow him to snack on the mean lady. At least somebody had my back.
It was December when I finally heard form Pocket. She answered one of the many texts I had sent her. All I got out of her was a simple, I’m doing okay. That’s it. Friends since birth and okay was all she could give me.
On Christmas break, I spent most days with Lance. We hung out at the clubhouse and he helped Viv and I with chores. We also worked on a project together for English on Romeo and Juliet. I couldn’t help compare. Lance and I were obviously from different families and probably shouldn’t be together. Thankfully, though, our families didn’t want to keep us apart. Although Mrs. Higgins wasn’t a fan of The Bastards, she didn’t hold it against me.
On a brisk winter evening, I forced Shame to take me shopping to buy a Christmas tree for his place. Snow flurries danced in the air as we entered a Boy Scout lot on the main drag in front of the pharmacy.
At the end of an aisle filled with tall, pretty trees, Shame stopped. “I like this one, he said with a playful grin, pointing to small, barren tree. I made a face. “What? It has charm.”
It was worse than the Charlie Brown tree. I assumed he was kidding and teased him back. “You would.”
“What does that mean?” he asked insulted.
“You care about things others think are beyond salvaging.” I blushed. “Never mind. That was lame.”
He frowned, and then walked to another row of tress. My foot caught on a piece of twine, launching me into his back. He spun, holding me up. I stood, but he was still close. I could see his breath in the cold. It swam all around my face.
“Is that how you see me, Dimples?”
“Yes,” I uttered breathless.
“You’re wrong.”
My skin prickled. “I don’t think I am. You hide behind your size and your reputation. You make sure your heart is unattainable. But you still have one and it’s huge. You feel more than you’ll ever admit. You’re kind and you can’t stand the thought of that scrawny ass tree not going to a home for Christmas.”
He laughed loudly and stepped back. “You’re so young, so naïve, but I love how life hasn’t completely tainted you.”
“I’m not naïve! Don’t treat me like a kid.”
I hated the way he laughed, before he said, “You are a kid.”
“But I’m right about you. Underneath all the hell you raise is a kind and honorable guy.”
His eyes narrowed. “In my business, it doesn’t pay to be kind. Now, pick out a damn tree.”
I stomped away, annoyed, and then I marched over to the ugly ass little tree and carried it to the front. “We’ll take this one,” I told the rosy-cheeked kid working the payment table.
Shame remained quiet and paid for the tree, but I saw the small smile that touched his lips. He was kind. He did care. I was proof of that. I was his sad, unloved tree and even if he would never take credit, he had helped me come back to life. I vowed right then and there to return the favor, and eventually bring Shame back to life, too.
I couldn’t wait for Christmas morning. I had put serious thought into Shame’s gift, including sneaking into his room to steal the pennies he collected at the cabin each summer. Viv took me to a craft store and helped me pick out a shadow box with a picture window in the center. She also gave me a photo of Shame and Berg taken in front of the cabin. Shame must have been about my age. Him and his dad were close and they looked so happy in the photo. I hot-glued each of the pennies onto the felt of the shadow box and slid the photo inside. The gift had been wrapped and under my bed for weeks. Some days I was wanted to give it to him early, but I stayed strong.
After I gave Gus a giant bone as his gift, Shame and I sat on the floor in the living room, the only light from the strands on the nearly dead tree.
“You got me something?” he asked, his expression forlorn.
“Yeah.” I smiled. “I hope you like it.”
I laughed at how big, tough Shame carefully removed the paper. Once his gift was revealed, he stared at it wordlessly. I felt slightly worried and my hands trembled. I mean I had snuck into his room. I feared he was upset I had invaded his personal space, perhaps even imposed on a private memory, even if he had shared it with me.
He set the box at his side. I swallowed as his large hand cupped my cheek. He stared directly into my eyes and inhaled a slow breath. “This is the single most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you.”
I smiled, placing my hand over his and absorbing the emotion I felt radiating from his skin. Shame’s gaze honed in on my mouth and I licked my lips. It was then he immediately let go of me and scooted away.
The pull between us was always there, and he always avoided it, as he should. I hoped it would continue to be there, and when I was finally old enough, he would be willing to cave to the attraction. I thought about Lance. Was I horrible dating him when I knew what my feelings were for Shame? I liked Lance. He was sweet and thoughtful, but I would never feel for him the way I did for Shame.
“Time for your gift,” Shame said, drawing me out of my reverent moment. I smiled, taking the small box from him and ripped off the paper. It was a necklace with a silver pendant like the Celtic cross The Bastards used as their crest. “Now you’re one of us.”
I blinked. “But I thought you didn’t want me to be one of you?”
He frowned. “I don’t,” he said and then smiled. “At least not permanently, but while you’re with us, I want you to feel like you belong.”
I didn’t need a gift to know I belonged there. My dad had made no effort to see me since graduation. It was a feeling as though the night my mom left, I had lost both parents. Thankfully Shame showed up and offered me a home. I was a Bastard and proud to be one.
“Thank you. It’s beautiful.”
While I held my hair up, Shame clasped the necklace around my neck. His fingers lingered on my skin, shooting goose bumps down my spine. I shivered. His warm breath caressed the back of my neck. For a moment, I thought I felt his lips, but then he stood up abruptly and asked what my plans were for the day.
“I’m having an early dinner at Lance’s and then I’ll be back for the club gathering.”
“Did you check with Viv?” he asked.
“Yeah, she’s good.”
His forehead creased tight as he nodded. I felt confused when he walked away. The water running in the pipes forced a loud hum into the air. He was in the shower and I sat alone in front of the dead little tree imaging him naked under the water. It was wrong. I knew that, but I couldn’t control my thoughts. Life was so unfair. I had been forced to grow up at such a young age, yet, I was nowhere near old enough for the things I wanted.
I stared at the small box Lance presented to me. It looked identical to the one Shame gave me earlier in the morning. When I tore off the paper, I knew it was exactly like Shame’s gift. Sure enough, I flipped the box open to unveil a gold necklace with a sunflower pendant. I hated sunflowers. They were my mother’s favorite. She used to keep a vase full of them on the dining room table.
Lance looked so genuinely excited, I couldn’t crush him by admitting this was the worst possible gift he could have given me. “It’s pretty,” I uttered with an awkward laugh.
“I thought so, too.” Lance beamed. “Here, I’ll put in on you.”
As I turned and lifted my hair, I felt Lance hesitate.
“Oh . . . You’re wearing a necklace. Do you want me to take it off?”
No, I didn’t want him to take it off, to replace Shame’s thoughtful gift with an ugly sunflower that reminded me of everything wrong with my life. But I didn’t want to hurt Lance. He meant well. “Sure.”
He undid the clasp and removed the necklace, then paused to look at it. “When did you get this?”
“Shame gave it to me this morning.”
“Oh, kinda weird huh?” Lance commented. “Like he thinks you’re one of them.”
I was one of them. “He tried.” I shrugged.
Lance put the necklace around my neck. I glanced at the sunflower and all I could see was my mom opening the front door, her telling my dad she was never coming back. The stupid pendant represented loneliness and sadness and betrayal. I would wear it for Lance but only for today.
Lance wanted to walk me back to the clubhouse, but his family had started to arrive. Since they came from out of town, I told him he should stay. Besides, I knew Dusty was outside, waiting to follow me home. He rarely told me he was coming, but he was always there. On the walk home, I stopped and exchanged Lance’s necklace for the one Shame gave me.
Dusty gave me a puzzled look. “Boy troubles?” he asked.
“Mommy issues.” I laughed and started walking again.
“Ah,” he replied with a smile. “I wonder when that starts.”
“I was six. She bailed.”
“That sucks.”
“It is what it is. Hey, how was your morning?” I asked to change the subject. “I bet Langston was excited.”
“Oh, it was awesome. You should’ve seen his face when he came downstairs. This is the first year he gets the whole Santa thing. He’s been driving me and Fionna crazy for weeks, asking us if it was Christmas yet.”
“Aw. That’s cute.”
“Yeah. He got this giant fire truck and his eyes lit up when he saw it. I never realized I could love someone so much. It’s crazy.”
I could see the love shining in Dusty’s eyes, and feel it in his huge smile. He was a good dad.
Right as Shame was walking out, I opened the door to the clubhouse. We locked gazes, and then I froze when Dozer heartily laughed and shouted, “Look up!”
Shame and I were less than a foot apart, standing under the mistletoe. He looked so dejected I decided to rescue him. “Merry Christmas,” I said, offering him my cheek. It was the fastest and coldest peck on the cheek ever, but it still made me feel warm and gushy on the inside.
There are many reasons we get caught up in playing games. We get something out of it; security, control—confidence. We crave the upper hand, some way to reach our goal before anyone else. When we want something, we will get it by any means necessary.
SHAME
“Fuck,” I breathed, walking into the cold winter air.
My skin burned with something I shouldn’t feel; lust. I wanted to kiss Breeze on the lips, feel the warmth in her mouth and the softness of her tongue.
How could I want to kiss her?
What the hell is wrong with me?
She was a kid, even younger than Liam.
I blamed her old soul. The books she had grown to love, all the classic and hopeless romances. Her life, which had made her grow up way too fast. Mentally she was beyond her years, physically for sure. Emotionally I didn’t know and had no business wanting to find out. But I did. I would never act on my feelings. I didn’t fuck underage girls. It was sick. It wasn’t like Liam and his girl. They were both teenagers. There were ten years between Breeze and me. Even if the gap was smaller, I couldn’t do it. Breeze was smart, gifted even. She had a bright future. From then on, my only goal was keeping her on the fast track out of Boston.
I glanced up to see Liam strolling up the walk. I had not seen him since Thanksgiving and was thrilled he would be around the table for Christmas. It would make Pop happy. When he reached me, he asked, “You all right?”
“Great,” I replied. “It’s good to see you.”
“You too, man.”
He sounded sincere. It was the first time in a while he looked me in the eye, and the first time in while he didn’t appear strung out. I had heard from Dozer he was doing better, but it was nice to see for myself.
“How have you been?” I asked.
He shrugged. “You know, hangin’ in.”
Before I pushed for more, Sabina’s car pulled up to the curb in front of the house. She was talking on the phone and stayed in her car.
“She’s invited for Christmas,” Liam remarked and put his hand on my shoulder. “You gettin’ serious on me, big brother?”
Liam’s comment sparked anger, and I shoved him. “Hell no! She’s convenient pussy, that’s it.”
“Come on. You ain’t gotta lie.” Liam laughed. “There’s no rule about not keeping an old lady.”
“Piss off,” I grumbled. Sabina was getting close to old lady status, but it was purely a game I had been playing. In addition to sex on command, I used Sabina to keep Breeze at a distance. As long as Sabina was around, Breeze wasn’t, which made my life easier. “Let’s go inside. I wanna have a beer with my kid brother.”
I draped my arm around his shoulders, and we walked inside. As the guys greeted Liam, I blocked out any feelings I had for Breeze, or Sabina. Both relationships were complicated and dangerous. I planned to use the one I didn’t want, to avoid the one I did, at least until Breeze left for college.
And in our quest to victory, we often forget how dangerous games can be. We forget people could get hurt. Or worse . . . we could lose.