Peter starts talking very fast. “Let me explain it. It’s only recently I found out Gen was behind the
video. I asked her about it, and she broke down and admitted everything to me. That night at the ski
trip, she saw us in the hot tub; she took the video. She’s the one who sent it to Anonybitch and played
it at the assembly.”
I knew it, and I let myself go along with Peter and pretend not to know what I knew. And for what?
For him?
“She’s been really fucked up over stuff she’s going through with her family, and she was jealous,
and she took it out on you and me—”
“Like what? What is she going through?” I don’t ask expecting an answer; I know he won’t tell me.
I’m asking to prove a point.
He looks pained. “You know I can’t tell you. Why do you keep putting me in a position where I
have to say no to you?”
“You put yourself in that position. You have her name, don’t you? In the game, you have her name
and she has mine.”
“Who cares about the stupid game? Covey, we’re talking about us.”
“I care about the stupid game.” Peter is loyal to her first, me second. It’s first Genevieve, then me.
That is the deal. That’s always been the deal. And I’m sick of it. Something clicks in my head.
Suddenly I ask him, “Why was Genevieve outside that night at the ski trip? All of her friends were in
the lodge.”
Peter closes his eyes briefly. “Why does it matter?”
I think back to that night in the woods. How he looked surprised to see me. Startled, even. He
wasn’t waiting for me. He was waiting for her. He still is. “If I hadn’t gone out to apologize that
night, would you have kissed her?”
He doesn’t answer right away. “I don’t know.”
Those three words confirm everything for me. They take my breath away. “If I win... do you
know what I would wish for?” Don’t say it, don’t say it. Don’t say the thing you can’t take back. “I’d
wish we never started any of this.” The words echo in my head, in the air.
He sucks in his breath. His eyes get small; so does his mouth. I’ve hurt him. Is that what I wanted?
I thought so, but now, looking at his face, I’m not sure. “You don’t have to win the game to have that,
Covey. You can have that right now if you want it.”
I reach out, put both hands on his chest. My eyes fill. “You’re out. Who do you have?” I already
know the answer.
“Genevieve.”
I stand up. “Bye, Peter.” And then I walk into my house and shut the door. I don’t look back, not
once.
We broke so easily. Like it was nothing. Like we were nothing. Does that mean it was never meant
to be in the first place? That we were an accident of fate? If we were meant to be, how could we both
walk away just like that?
I guess the answer is, we weren’t.
singke
(singke)
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