Wild Card by Ashley Munoz

Chapter Five

I claspedmy side as I limped home, hair matted to my cheek, sweat glistening on my reddening face. It wasn’t great and I was likely seconds from an early death, but I was out of options.

When I got really stressed out, I ran. It probably wasn’t healthy to associate running with the stressful moments of my life, but here we were, me running like a murderer was after me, all so I could work out a way into that party.

I had considered wearing a disguise, acting like a vendor of some kind, but I was fairly certain it wasn’t normal for beer vendors to attend team parties. I could have gone as a player, but I’d have needed to up my makeup game quite impressively. I thought maybe I could just try my luck at showing up and stay until I got kicked out…which was the current plan. Taylor refused to hang with me, which was rude, in my opinion, but I also understood it on a strange level.

Opening my front door, I hobbled inside and nearly collapsed. I’d run six miles, and I was not a runner. It had taken me half the day, which was pretty embarrassing, but whatever. I could run the six miles; I didn’t think how fast really mattered. Unfortunately, I felt like my heart had caught fire and was about to plop out of my chest any second. I was breathing so hard I didn’t realize my stepsister was missing.

Finally recovering, I flipped to my stomach and started crawling down the hall to her room.

“Tay?” She should have been getting ready for the party. “Uh…Taylor, where are you?” I pushed her bedroom door open, but from my vantage point, it looked empty. Then I heard moaning coming from her bed. It wasn’t the happy kind of moaning, so I got to my feet and made it to the side of her mattress.

Her room was a mixture of teal and white with a few golds thrown in, all perfectly designed on my father’s dime. My bedroom was a mashup of different thrift finds I’d acquired over the years, and the striking differences made me want to laugh. I wasn’t very good at spending my father’s money, and while I may have resented Taylor for having zero issues with it, at least her things matched and looked nice.

“Tay, you okay?”

A lump in the blankets revealed little except the blonde strands of her hair. I tentatively touched where her shoulder should have been and tried to get her to look at me.

“Taylor?”

She finally lowered the blankets.

“Mal, I feel like death.” She sniffed and wiped her reddening nose with a Kleenex.

No…she couldn’t look like this. “What happened?”

“I think I must have just caught a bug. I have no idea, but there’s no way I can go tonight.” She blew her nose and coughed into her shirt.

My heart turned to goo. My little stepsister didn’t do well with sickness, mostly because she was so spoiled, but also because her mother wasn’t very maternal when it came to things like this. I knew from when we were younger that she just wanted someone to take care of her.

“Want me to call Bev, see if Gareth can come get you? It’s Friday, so you can go recover at home where they can take care of you.”

Bev and Gareth maintained my father and stepmother’s estate while doing whatever else they needed. Bev cooked all the meals and cleaned the mansion, and Gareth drove my father and stepmother wherever they needed or wanted to go. They were really good to us, and I knew they’d come get Taylor in a heartbeat if needed.

“Or I can take you myself if you want,” I offered, realizing she might not want anyone to see her like this.

“No, I want you to go to the party tonight. I want you to get your story and come home and tell me about it. I will call Bev and see if she wouldn’t mind driving over some soup or something.”

An objection was already on the tip of my tongue. Regardless of how badly I wanted into that party, taking her place wasn’t an option. I started to shake my head when Taylor reached over to the other side of her bedside table and grabbed her card.

“Here…first, sanitize this so you don’t get sick.” She shoved the card in my hand. “Then, I want you to call Hillary and have her come do your makeup and hair…and wear that one black dress you have in the back of your closet.”

“It’s too—”

“Short, I know,” she finished for me, shaking her head. “It looks like sin on you, and you don’t even know it. Do not wear that godawful shapewear you like to wear with it.”

“It’s slimming…” I shrugged.

“You don’t need it, and if you end up getting my home run, you don’t want him to have to use a knife to get you out of it.”

I snorted. “I’m not taking your home run.”

She swiped her matted hair away and let out a small laugh. “You want the story, Mal…go be the annoying reporter you are and scoop them. It’s not like they will ever give me a redo…that’s never happened, so we might as well put the card to use.”

Her blue eyes stared at me, making sure I caught how serious she was. I let out a heavy swell of air, realizing she was right.

“Are you sure?” I hated taking this from her, but then again…maybe this was a blessing in disguise if the guy on the other end of the card was a bad person or she could get hurt or something.

“I’m sure. Go have fun tonight, and I will hopefully still be alive when you get home.”

I stood, pushing some of her hair to the side. “Call Bev—you know she’d want to come take care of you.”

My stepsister nodded weakly and turned over, pulling the covers over her head.

* * *

I tuckeda piece of rogue hair behind my ear and tried to stay calm. Running through the list in my mind, I shuffled forward in line. A massive three-story house loomed ahead of me. Bass boomed from its core, and plastic red cups were tilted up high in almost every direction I looked. Girls were giggling, wearing dresses so short I could see their ass cheeks, which looked cold.

Guys were joking, shoving, and smoking—discreetly of course. They had their opening game the next day, so I had no idea why anyone would even risk a contact high, but to each his own.

I could do this. I mean, I already was…so, yeah…it was going to be fine. Even if I was out of my element and had anxiety about being surrounded by so many people, journalism was a messy medium…at least that was what I kept telling myself over and over again while taking cleansing breaths every few steps.

“Pass or pay,” deadpanned a freckle-faced kid no older than eighteen as he held his hand out.

I held up the king of hearts I’d gotten from Taylor, hoping it would work as a pass.

His beady eyes scanned the words written in black ink along the back, then his head dipped in a nod while the guy next to him opened the door for me. A gush of air left my chest as I walked across the threshold.

I’d been to a few college parties over the years—I mean, it was a rite of passage—but they weren’t my scene. I’d have preferred to be working a shift at the bookstore, where stacks and rows of books worked as barriers against people getting too close to me. It also didn’t hurt to get lost in the cream-colored pages of an adventure or fantasy. I hated admitting it out loud or any time someone asked the cliché question about my hobbies, but reading was one, regardless of how lame it seemed to all the adventure seekers out there.

Looking around the party, I could feel the age-old insecurities flaring to life. My hair had always been too frizzy, my skin too blotchy, my body too wide. I was healthy and happy, but years and years of negative self-talk were a war waged and lost on the heart and a smear on the soul. Tonight, however, I was channeling someone else entirely. The mystery man in that room tonight would expect Taylor, but he’d get me.

Either he was just handing out cards carefree and didn’t really care who ended up in that room, or he had handpicked Taylor and I was fucked. I really was hoping he didn’t care as long as it was a willing female, one who would do enough skin-to-skin connection to grab the story before he could hit his home run.

“Damn, girl,” someone said to my left. I smiled, remembering what I had on tonight. I was wearing the black dress Taylor had told me to wear. The bodice hugged me tightly, slimming my waist, and the slit opened right at my thigh. It was short, way shorter than anything I had ever worn, but it made my reddish-brown hair look like a dark auburn under these lights and against my natural tan. Loose curls cascaded down my back while little braids lined each side of my head. My makeup was Hillary’s best work and completely perfect, with my lashes thick and black, my eyebrows tweezed and shaded, and lastly, my toes were currently wedged into sky-high black heels.

I was thanking my middle school best friend for making me learn how to walk in them, all so we could shine the brightest at our school dance. Then of course Jackie, my stepmother, had ensured I continued my education with every black-tie event my father was invited to.

“Card?” another young man asked from his perch in front of the stairwell leading down to the basement. Checkpoints—they had fucking checkpoints set up in the house, all catered to the game. This was insane.

I flashed my home run card to the fool.

“Lucky asshole,” he muttered, but it was hard to make it out completely over the booming bass. His eyes raked over my form, pausing at my chest, where my curls brushed against my breasts. I tried not to wince as a sheen of lust came over his features, tilting his lips in a seductive way. I’d never felt so exposed, like a film of oil was encasing me with every step.

Still, I smiled in response, looking up from beneath my lashes, playing the part, trying to allow this game to be fun instead of terrifying. Other people seemed to be having fun; I could do the same.

Ever so slowly, he moved to the side so I could pass.

I descended the stairs carefully, taking in the pictures on the walls as I went. They were framed photos of the Devils baseball team throughout the years. There was a bronze frame from what looked like the 1970s, and even one from what looked like the 50s. I assumed this house must have been the team house, a fraternity not officially associated with the school, which was probably why they had to be so secretive about this game of theirs. If the school found out, I was positive they would shut it down. Or would they?

The basement was layered with a thin blue carpet that was littered with dark stains and old odors. Twin pool tables took up the space to my right, posters of half-naked women adorned the walls, and a low, was-white-at-some-point couch perched off to the left with a coffee table sitting in front of it. Three girls and two guys filled the seats, all nursing cans of beer, and toward the back was a small kitchen, tucked away near an equally small laundry room.

My eyes greedily took in every detail as I made my way toward the back of the house. Every time I was sure I’d reached the place I was supposed to be, there would be someone telling me to keep going. The farther I went, the thicker the smoke was and the more inebriated everyone seemed to be. Interesting development.

Tiny hairs on my arms and neck rose as I began to sort through the information I had gathered thus far. This was a dangerously bad idea, and any girl who willingly came down here was definitely not making good life choices. I thought perhaps I should contact the school’s guidance counselors after I figured out who all was involved with this.

“The line is this way, baby girl.” Drew Seymour leered at me with red-rimmed eyes and a carnal smile. He was devastatingly handsome and someone I hadn’t thought knew I even existed. Maybe he still didn’t—it wasn’t like he’d said my name. He had just called me baby girl and was probably talking to my vagina for all I knew.

I veered to the left, following his directions, itching to scribble down a few notes about everything I was seeing.

“Tell me she’s a player tonight.” Someone bit their knuckle as I passed.

Player?

This was all kinds of messed up.

“Fuck me, whose card is she on?” I heard another yell as I walked through what felt like a maze of leering jocks, all watching to see who was walking in. Finally, I noticed two girls in front of me, both with seemingly more energetic attitudes than me. Their hands were raised above their heads, holding drinks as they gave each boy a free shimmy and shake as they passed.

Should I have been feeling the guys up too? If I didn’t, would it make me seem out of place?

Dang it.

I plastered my flirty smile on, lowered my eyes, and batted my lashes. Hopefully that would work. With a few of the guys who moved in closer, I dug deep for the confidence to push past how close they were and dragged my hand down their chests.

Rich Wellington cupped his mouth and yelled over the chaos. “Ladies, we will be splitting you up by bases.”

I stopped close to the two girls who’d walked in before me. I wished I knew their names, but I had never seen either of them before. The girl who stopped next to me was vaguely familiar, but I supposed they all would be since we were all from RFU.

“Once you’ve been accurately placed, you’ll then be given a blindfold. No one here will put this blindfold on you. You must willingly put it on yourself, with the full knowledge that you are going to be led to a room where you will be joined by a specific team member who found your company desirable this evening. This is very important, ladies.” Rich stepped closer to our group.

I tried to see how many other girls there were, but it looked like it was just the four of us: first base, second base, third, and home plate. They only allowed one woman per base per party. The conversation I’d overheard at the restaurant played again in my head. As miniscule as the details might have been, they were currently acting as a survival guide, mapping my way through this entire situation.

“You must follow our golden rule. It’s of the utmost importance.” Rich smiled, bringing my thoughts back to the party. He looked each girl in the eye, but when he got to me, his forehead crinkled like he was confused.

Did he know who had been invited?

My palms began to sweat as he paused, and it felt like an eternity as I waited for him to turn his gaze elsewhere.

Finally, with two furrowed blond eyebrows, he looked away to continue. “You must only go as far as your base allows. The men will be following this rule as well, and there are assurances in place to help enforce this. I don’t care if you think you have a connection with the guy or you love him—whatever the fuck it is, I don’t care. If you’re base number one, you only go as far as your base allows. You will not push for more, or you will be blacklisted, and a formal lawsuit will be filed against you.”

What. The. Fuck…

A lawsuit?

I withheld the loud scoff itching its way up my throat. They couldn’t… Nothing was in writing. Was it?

Wait…shit.

“This way, ladies.”

I was gently shoved forward, and before I could even process what was happening or deliver the barb to not fucking touch me, someone had my wrist pulled up and my card in their hand.

“Home run over here.” Someone laughed then handed me off to another guy who led me toward the back of the line. A black silk blindfold was handed to me by a tall guy wearing way too much cologne. I wanted to puke. They were all too close, and I was going to hyperventilate if I didn’t get out of the crowd.

Suddenly my heart rate spiked. I wasn’t cool with the blindfold. I didn’t like not knowing where I was headed…what if this was a human trafficking ring? What if they were serial killers…or rapists?

But Taylor had mentioned that girls came out of this. They lived to tell the tale, to incite jealousy, right?

With shaky hands, I fastened the fabric around my head. My breathing seemed more strenuous, my limbs suddenly unstable as the sounds from the room seemed to amplify and careen through my head. Everyone was laughing or making bets and jokes about each girl. They didn’t use our names, just our base numbers, which made me think they had a roster of some kind, or they’d put something on our backs to indicate which base we were.

“Home run, this way.” Someone gently pulled my arm then wrapped their hand around mine.

Holding hands I could do because it put space between us. I just didn’t want his arm around me. I needed the distance.

“I gotta say, I’m shocked. You weren’t the girl I thought would be showing up tonight. As far as I knew, my boy had been eyeing someone else all semester.”

Shit.Did one of these idiots actually like my stepsister?

“Hmmm, not sure what happened then,” I replied demurely, still trying to keep my wits and gather information about what I could hear and smell.

“No worries. My boy has been known to be a little back and forth. Either way, he’ll treat you right tonight. You signed the NDA and all that, about your STD checkup and the use of the condom?”

Wow, they were really thorough. I was momentarily impressed.

“Yeah, left it with…” I paused, hoping he’d fill in the blank for me.

“Paul?” the guy offered, opening a door in front of us. I could feel the air change, and the room he led me into smelled much better than the hall we had just been in.

“Yeah, I guess…can’t remember his name,” I lied.

The guy laughed, easing my discomfort. “No one ever remembers Paul.”

Relief swept through me.

“Okay, I’m going to let you take off the blindfold once I step out of the room. E should be here any minute, okay? If there’s any issue whatsoever, there’s a panic button on the wall.” He turned my body and stretched out my hand until it was covering a dime-sized button.

So fucking strange.

“Thanks,” I whispered.

“Have fun tonight,” he said teasingly before opening and shutting the door.

I pulled the blindfold free and began gathering as much information as I could. I stood in what looked like a bedroom. There was a queen-sized bed covered by a dark blue comforter, and the shade over the window matched. There was a side table with a lamp, textbooks, and what looked like a phone charger base.

I spun, taking in the posters, the chair with a few stains on it, and the small mini fridge. Definitely a team member’s bedroom.

I fidgeted with the blindfold, unsure what to do. I wasn’t planning on actually sleeping with this guy tonight, but I hadn’t considered how exactly I was going to get out of here without doing the deed.

I didn’t have time to contemplate any further as the silver handle turned and the door began to swing open.