Young Americans Fan Fiction
Wicked Game by Camisha
Wicked Game, Part 1
E-mail: camisha_r@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13
Category: Other - Jake/Ryder
Disclaimer: I think fan fiction writers have claimed collective ownership of these characters, like we’re squatting them or something, but legally they aren’t ours or mine. The song used is “Wicked Game” by Chris Isaak.
Summary: Suppose that during the original 8 episodes Jake and Ryder shared a secret past.
Thanks: This story is dedicated to the reader who wrote with feedback and suggested I try a Jake/Ryder story. I was intrigued by the challenge. This is what I came up with.
Feedback: Pretty, pretty please with sugar on top.
* * * * *
“No, Hamilton, he’s not worth it!” Jake cried. She leapt up from the dock to prevent Hamilton’s misguided attack on Ryder.
Deep down, she knew Ryder would never really hurt Hamilton intentionally--he was cruel, but he wasn’t really violent and, besides, Hamilton was the dean’s son--except that Jake also knew how unpredictable Ryder could be when threatened. If Hamilton threw a lucky punch, Ryder’s survival instincts would kick in and he would become dangerous.
“This isn’t worth it!” Hamilton shot back, storming off in frustration.
She wanted to run after him and explain, ‘It’s not about you, it’s about me,’ but what then? She couldn’t possibly tell him everything—not now. She rounded on Ryder instead.
“What is this? Your revenge?” she hissed.
“Revenge?” Ryder asked, widening his eyes innocently. He lowered his voice. “My dearest Jake, whatever for?”
“Don’t play with me, Ryder.”
“But that’s what I do, don’cha know? I play games with people for my own amusement. I’m bored and Hamilton’s just so easy to provoke. Too easy, really. You, luv, have always presented a much greater challenge.”
“So I was just another one of your games?” Jake asked, daring him to deny it.
“I prefer the term ‘conquest’,” Ryder replied after an almost imperceptible pause. The contempt in his voice didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Jake’s stare bore into him. “I don’t believe you,” she said coolly.
“Oh, but you ought to try. I’m doing you a favor. I know you’ve been dying to convince yourself you hate me.”
“Well, thank you, I’m convinced,” Jake snapped. She paused and sighed. “And I’m leaving.”
“Gonna beg Batgirl to take you back?”
“Actually, I meant I’m leaving Rawley before you succeed in ruining his life… Oh, don’t looked so shocked,” Jake said scornfully when Ryder simply stared at her. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To drive me away? Well, you’re getting what you want. You always do.”
When he remained silent, she turned and walked away towards the dorms in pursuit of Hamilton.
“Then how come I haven’t got you?” Ryder whispered as she disappeared.
* * * * *
The world was on fire and no one could save me but you…
In fact, it seemed to Ryder that he never got what he wanted anymore. The only things in his life that he had chosen over the past few years were his consolation prizes. A tour of Europe for his parents’ divorce--or perhaps that was just to get him out of the way. A credit card for his father’s frequent absences, a Corvette for the loss of his friends and homeland. His life had contained little of value by the time he arrived at Rawley, but his shallow pursuits and empty victories since had only drained it further.
A prep school bully. How pathetic and boring. The life of a London street punk, if not more meaningful, had at least been more exhilarating. This time last year, Ryder and his friends had discovered that shoplifting beat the hell out of shopping for a good afternoon’s entertainment. After all, where was the thrill in pulling out Daddy’s credit card? Especially when guilt over his own poor parenting had long since stopped Ryder’s father from lecturing him on his spending.
Ryder remembered one particular July evening last summer when he had lifted a matching necklace, bracelet and earring set from a popular accessories shop. He had just taken leave of his partners in crime and, still high on the adrenaline, was walking through the theatre district on his way to a friend’s flat where he hoped to see a girl to whom he planned to give the ill-gotten jewelry. He knew she would be very impressed with the gift and very willing to show him her appreciation.
Coming up on one theatre, he couldn’t help but notice a young girl sitting on its steps holding a cigarette in one hand and struggling with a lighter in the other. He watched her struggle as he approached.
“God damn child-proof lighter,” he heard her mumble as he came closer.
“I’ll give you a hand with that if I can bum one,” Ryder offered when he was standing in front of her. He didn’t know he was going to stop until he had done so.
“Hmm?” Her head popped up in surprise as she registered his sudden appearance and his offer. “Oh yeah, sure. Uh, thanks,” she answered, pulling a pack of Camel Lights out of her purse and offering them to him.
He took the second cigarette from the new pack. He studied her face as he sat down next to her and took the offending lighter from her hand.
“You know,” he said deftly slipping the cigarette between his lips, flipping the little switch on the lighter and lighting his cigarette, “if you can’t figure out the child-proof lighter, perhaps you’re too young to be smoking.”
“Hardly,” the girl retorted haughtily.
“Just how old are you then?” Ryder asked.
She studied him for a moment before answering. “Sixteen,” she said easily.
“You’re a good liar,” Ryder told her, nodding his head and taking a slow drag of the cigarette as he tried again to judge her age. It wasn’t that she didn’t look 16 exactly, he just didn’t quite buy her act.
“I am a good liar,” the girl agreed with a cool smile, “but I’m not lying. Now just light my cigarette, please.”
Ryder had to keep himself from chuckling out loud because she was holding the cigarette out toward him as if it could be lit like a candle.
“You have to put it in your mouth first, luv,” he informed her gently. “Now how old are you really?”
“Fift--” she broke off at his warning look. “Fourteen.” She held the cigarette up between her lips.
Ryder flicked the lighter and held the flame up to the girls’ cigarette. “Now draw some air through it,” he instructed. She did and the cigarette lit.
“There you go.” He watched in silent amusement as she puffed away on the cigarette without inhaling. “So what prompts you to take up smoking at the ripe old age of 14?”
“It seemed like a good time. Why? When did you start?”
“Age 12. But the question is: Why are you doing it? It’s obviously not peer pressure since you were sitting here alone.”
“Is that why you started? Peer pressure?” the girl asked, turning the question back on him once again.
“Actually, I was trying to get my parents’ attention,” Ryder admitted, surprised to hear himself telling this stranger the truth.
“Did it work?”
Ryder shrugged. “They noticed… but it didn’t really change the way they were acting—towards me or each other. In the end, I’m just four years of cigarettes closer to lung cancer, I guess.”
“So are you trying to warn me off your path?”
“Nah, I actually enjoy smoking. You know, it gives me something to do when I’m out with friends and the nicotine’s relaxing.”
“Really?” the girl asked skeptically. “It’s not doing much for me.” She dropped the finished cigarette to the ground and crushed it under her foot.
“You really ought to try inhaling. It makes all the difference,” Ryder teased.
“What do you mean? I am inhaling. Look, smoke is coming out of my mouth.”
“You need to get the smoke into your lungs so the chemicals enter your bloodstream.” Ryder ground out his own exhausted cigarette. “Here, grab another and we’ll try again.”
The girl pulled the pack out of her purse again, offered it to Ryder and then took one for herself. Ryder lit his own cigarette and explained the inhalation process. Then he lit the girl’s and helped her figure it out. He watched her eyes widen as she succeeded for the first time and felt the effect.
“There you go. Perfect,” he encouraged as she took another drag. She smiled and tried to speak as she exhaled, but fell into a coughing fit instead.
“Okay, so you still need a little practice,” Ryder amended, “but we’ll have you smoking like a natural in no time.” Ryder chuckled at his own statement. “Tell me again why I’m teaching a 14-year-old girl to smoke…?”
The girl turned to glance at the theatre behind her. “My mother’s in there,” she answered.
“In the audience?”
“On the stage.”
“An actress?”
“And a single mother.”
“On the road?”
“Constantly.”
“Self-absorbed?”
“Completely.”
“Well then, luv, you’d better figure out how to use this lighter.” He spent a few minutes trying to show her, but she just didn’t get it. After several failed attempts, Ryder had a better idea.
“Hey, you know what? I think I have a non-child-proof lighter here somewhere.” Reaching into his pocket, he found not the lighter, but the stolen jewelry set. He suddenly remembered Lucy, the gift’s intended recipient, waiting at his friend’s flat. She would grow tired of waiting soon--if she hadn’t already--and probably bestow her much fought over attentions on one of his friends.
Last week, he had thought nothing in his life more important than being the one amongst his little gang to “win” Lucy. She played an enticing game of hard-to-get and he knew he was in the lead. The jewelry would certainly have brought him victory. In fact, if he left now, he was sure he still wouldn’t have to sleep alone that night. But to his surprise, Ryder found that he didn’t want to leave.
“Did you find it?” the girl asked, pulling Ryder from his thoughts. He realized he had been staring into space with his hand still searching his pocket.
“Well, no, but there is this,” he replied as he withdrew the necklace. He unfastened it and reached out to fasten it around the girl’s neck before either of them quite realized what he meant to do. He reached back into his pocket and produced the bracelet and earrings. He lifted her hand and slipped the bracelet over her wrist. He liked the feeling of holding her hand and didn’t let go immediately. He glanced at the earrings in his other hand. The girl followed his glance and grabbed the earrings before Ryder could consider trying to put them in her ears for her.
She made no move to put them in herself, however, but rather studied Ryder as if trying to figure out his angle. Suddenly seeming to realize he still held her hand, she pulled it away before she spoke.
“Why are you giving me this stuff?” she asked suspiciously.
“Because it looks lovely on you,” he answered simply.
“Who was it really for?” her tone almost accusatory.
“You.”
“You don’t know me,” she pointed out.
“But I’d like to.”
“Are you trying to tell me that you carry around jewelry in your pockets to give to girls you want to get to know?”
“No,” Ryder answered as if the implication were ridiculous, “I just happened to have it in my pocket because I stole it this afternoon.”
“You stole it?”
Ryder wondered if he had miscalculated in telling her that. “Yeah,” he answered anyway.
“Is that supposed to impress me?”
“No,” he answered quickly, then at her skeptical stare, “…okay, maybe. Does it?”
“No,” she answered, but when he treated her to his own skeptical stare she admitted, “…okay, a little.”
“I mean, come on. You want to rebel and boys like me are exactly the kind of boys mothers always warn their little girls about…”
The girl seemed to consider this for a moment. “Are you suggesting I use you to get my mom’s attention?”
“Exactly.”
“So what do you get out of it?” the girl asked, still wary.
“What are you offering?” Ryder asked suggestively.
“A lot less than mother warn their little girls that guys like you are after.”
“Well, suppose I’m not after anything? You’re only 14, after all.”
“Then why give me the jewelry?”
“So young and so distrustful… I love it. But you’re right, I do want something…” She nodded skeptically for him to continue. “Your name.”
“Fair enough,” the girl conceded. “It’s Jacqueline.”
Jake’s head was spinning as she headed toward the dorms. She had just told Ryder she was leaving Rawley. She hadn’t really thought the words over before they left her mouth, but with every step she became more and more certain that it was the only option. Ryder would never leave her and Hamilton alone. He could not resist the perverse pleasure of tormenting Hamilton for being gay when, in fact, he was the only one on campus besides Jake and Hamilton themselves who knew it wasn’t true.
Hamilton thought Ryder was homophobic. In fact, Jake knew, he was simply cruel and vindictive. But what difference did it make anyway? No matter what the motivation for Ryder’s taunts and insults, it was Jake who had placed Hamilton in the line of fire. She was the reason the whole school thought he was gay and the reason Ryder wished to make him suffer. It would be hard to leave Hamilton having just realized she was in love with him, but it would be better than staying and ruining his life.
She really should never have let it get this far, Jake chastised herself. The minute she’d seen Ryder again, she should have ridden off in the other direction. Of course, it would have helped if she hadn’t been stuck with a flat.
* * * * *
Strange what desire will make foolish people do…
Riding her motorcycle on her way to Rawley Academy for the first time earlier that summer, Jacqueline had been very nervous. She was focusing on everything and nothing. A thousand little details occupied her mind, with driving receiving perhaps the least attention of all. ‘My name is Jake Pratt,’ she kept repeating to herself. ‘Pratt, Mr. Pratt, young man, Monica Pratt’s son, Jake.’
Bathrooms and showers were holding her thoughts when a piece of what looked to be scrap metal appeared in the road in front of her. She noticed it too late, swerved, but didn’t manage to avoid it. She cringed as she heard the sound of her tire being punctured and pulled over quickly.
“Shit,” she muttered hopping off the bike. She pulled off her helmet, put her sunglasses in it and hung it on the handlebars. “Damn, damn, damn,” she continued as she inspected the damage. The bike wasn’t going anywhere on that tire. Not even as far as Carson, which a sign she had just passed indicated was about 6 miles ahead. She looked up and down the winding New England highway. Not a car in sight. She tried to run a hand through her hair and was irrationally irritated to find it shorter than expected. She tugged at it instead.
“I guess I’d better start walking,” Jacqueline said to herself. She figured that if she were lucky someone would pick her up. The question was whether it was best to hitchhike as Jake or Jacqueline. It would probably be safest to be Jake, she decided, since people picking up female hitchhikers don’t always have the best of intentions. Besides, she didn’t want to risk meeting someone as Jacqueline whom she would later encounter as Jake.
She pushed the bike into the bushes and grabbed her backpack. Then she spotted two cars coming her way. She tried to flag them down, but they sped past without sparing her a second glance. On second thought, Jacqueline concluded, damsel-in-distress might not be such a bad way to go. Besides, this was rural New England. How unsafe could it be?
Returning to the bushes, Jacqueline whipped off her biker jacket and corset and replaced her long-sleeved shirt with a spaghetti-strap tank top. She doused her hair with her water bottle and shaped it into a more feminine style before heading back out to the road.
She walked for about five minutes before she heard a car coming up behind her. She turned to flag down the bright red Corvette. The driver slowed and pulled up beside her. She turned and reached up to remove her sunglasses.
“Hey, luv, need a lift?”
Jacqueline recognized the voice just as her sunglasses came off and the driver recognized her. They spoke at the same time.
“Ryder?”
“Jaqueline?”
“Oh shit,” Jacqueline whispered as she realized what this might do to her plan.
“You wound me, luv,” Ryder responded with a teasing pout. “I, for one, am quite pleased to see you again.”
“No, it’s not… I mean… it’s just… Never mind. It’s… well, it’s… nicer than expected to see you again,” Jacqueline admitted reluctantly. She paused to make her next question sound like idle curiosity. “Where are you headed?” She held her breath.
“Rawley Academy,” he answered, crushing her hopes. “It’s about 45 kilometers down this road. What are you doing hitchhiking?”
“My bike has a flat and the tire is trashed. I’ve got to get to the next town to see if I can get it replaced.”
“Well, get in then.” She hesitated. “C’mon, luv, you never had the good sense to be afraid of me before. Why start now?”
“Maybe after a year, I’ve finally come to my senses,” Jacqueline answered softly. She opened the passenger door and got in the car. “Then again,” she muttered to herself as Ryder revved the engine and took off, “maybe I haven’t.”
“Fancy a cigarette?” Jacqueline turned to see Ryder holding out a pack to her.
“No thanks, I’ve quit,” she refused firmly.
“Pity.” Ryder set the pack on the dashboard, then brought his right hand down to rest on Jacqueline’s knee. He started to slide it up her thigh. “Fancy a detour on a secluded turnoff?” he asked suggestively.
“No thanks, I’ve quit that, too.”
“Pity,” Ryder repeated softly. They fell silent for the last couple minutes of the ride to Carson.
“So when did you get the Corvette?” Jacqueline asked as they walked from the car to the mechanic’s office. “It’s nice.”
“You like it? I got it last fall. Consolation prize for coming to America.” He didn’t have to explain further. “The irony is that I’m old enough to drive here, but there’s nowhere I want to go and no one I wanted to see… until now.”
“Ryder, I don’t--” Jacqueline started. She was interrupted by the appearance of the mechanic. She explained the problem and he went off to see about finding a tire. She tried to start again. “Ryder, I just--”
“So when’d you get your bike?” Ryder interrupted, not wanting to hear what he expected her to say.
“Same time as your Corvette,” she answered, deciding not to fight the change of subject, “only I put it on my mom’s credit card without telling her.”
“Let’s go outside,” Ryder suggested. “I want another cigarette.” He walked out and Jacqueline followed him. He took out a cigarette, then offered her one automatically.
“No thanks.”
“Right, sorry. So, did it work?”
“With my mom? Of course not. Not only did she not care that I bought it, she didn’t even realize that I’m not old enough to drive it. I even left my fake license on the table and she just told me that it was a decent photo.” Jacqueline smiled sardonically.
Ryder smiled back, then laughed. Suddenly Jacqueline was laughing too. They laughed together and the tension between them eased a bit. Ryder finished his cigarette and fished out another one. He waved it under Jacqueline’s nose.
“C’mon, you know you want one. Give into temptation,” he coaxed. He gazed at her intently. “C’mon, Jackie. Don’t you remember how good it feels?” He spoke softly, almost melting her with is seductive smile.
“Don’t call me ‘Jackie’,” Jacqueline snapped, annoyed to feel herself falling under his spell. “You know no one calls me ‘Jackie’.”
“You used to let me call you ‘Jackie’.”
“I used to let you do a lot of things,” Jacqueline retorted dryly. She snatched the cigarette from his hand and put it in her mouth. Ryder pulled out his lighter and lit it for her before lighting one for himself. He took a long, slow drag.
“You never answered my question. Don’t you remember how good it feels?” He stepped closer so that he was facing her and they were only a foot apart. They both knew he was talking about more than smoking.
Jacqueline exhaled, turning her head to the side to blow the smoke past him. “I’ve been trying to forget,” she said softly, but she didn’t back away.
Slowly, Ryder lifted his left hand and ran his fingers down her jaw. “Allow me to remind you.”
It was a warning and she knew it. She should have moved away, but she didn’t. She just stood there as Ryder gently tilted her chin with his hand and lowered his head to kiss her. As Ryder’s lips closed over hers, Jacqueline found that she had forgotten exactly how good it felt to be kissed by Ryder. He was the quintessential bad boy--sexy, charming, dangerous, thrilling. He was a selfish bastard, she knew. But, God, was he a good kisser. So good that she couldn’t seem to focus on the fact that she really ought to be pushing him away. She pulled him closer. The kiss deepened.
Jacqueline was saved from her own weakness by the return of the mechanic who cleared his throat loudly to get their attention. Jacqueline pulled away quickly, embarrassed, practically shoving at Ryder who didn’t seem to be in any hurry to break contact. He treated her to a far too satisfied smile and tried to slip his arm around her waist. She pushed it off as she gave her full attention to the mechanic.
“I found a tire, ma’am. If you’d like, I can drive you back to your bike and put it on for you.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Ryder interjected, “I can--”
“Actually, that would be great,” Jacqueline interrupted firmly glancing at the man’s name tag, “Ben. Thank you. I wouldn’t want to hold my friend here up any longer.”
“Jacqueline…” Ryder began in his most cajoling voice, but Jacqueline was ignoring him as she pulled out a credit card.
“Here, Ben,” she said handing him the card, “why don’t you bill me for the tire and the labor and then we can go.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He disappeared into the office.
Jacqueline steeled herself for an argument with Ryder, but he merely gave her one of his trademark, self-satisfied smirks.
“You can run, Jackie, but you can’t hide.” She just stared at him. “You’ve obviously enrolled at Rawley Academy. There’s really nothing else around here for people like us.”
“ ‘People like us’? Ryder, you’re such a…”
“Snob?” he suggested. “Actually, I meant the children of rich and uninterested parents, but true enough. I suppose you’re here to find waitressing work at a small town diner, then?”
The idea actually held quite a bit of appeal against the prospect of trying to dodge Ryder at Rawley Academy. “My plans are none of your business,” she snapped defensively. Then she cursed herself for letting him get to her.
“Be that as it may, I am quite familiar with the Rawley Girls’ campus. When I want you, you shouldn’t be too hard to find.” With that he kissed her full on the lips and walked away before she could protest. He climbed in his car and drove away without looking back.
God, his arrogance irked her. No one had ever figured out how to push her buttons like he did. He always saw right through the tough front she put up. But, hey, she’d had another year to perfect that front. She was stronger now, and she would prove it.
The mechanic emerged from his office and handed her her credit card.
“I’ve got news for you, Ryder,” she muttered to herself as she followed the mechanic to his truck. “Jacqueline may be harder to find than you think.”
Less than half an hour after leaving the garage, the motorcycle was fixed and Jacqueline, once again in boy’s clothing, was back on the road to New Rawley. At this rate, I’m going to bust another tire, Jacqueline thought to herself, as she tried and failed to keep her attention on the road in front of her. She just couldn’t believe it. Of all the people to run into at this new school, Ryder Forrest. She was tempted to turn her bike around and go back to New York. She could find another school to attend.
But at the same time, knowing that Ryder was probably already at Rawley Academy waiting for her held an irresistible attraction. Ryder had always held an irresistible attraction for her. He was wrong though, when he said she’d never had the good sense to be afraid of him before. Her better judgment had always warned her away from him. But something about him always compelled her to act against that better judgment.
* * * * *
“You know, this thing with my mom totally isn’t working. It totally doesn’t bother her that I’m… seeing you,” Jacqueline complained as she and Ryder left the movie theater a week after their first meeting. “She just tells me she thinks you’re sexy.”
“And what do you think, luv?” Ryder asked playfully, reaching out to take her hand and run his thumb over the back of it.
Jacqueline smiled at the contact, then frowned. He had held her hand during the movie and it had felt good. Too good really. When they first met, she hadn’t expected to like spending time with him so much. He had seemed far too smooth and charming to be trusted so she had warned herself to keep her guard up. She was supposed to be pretending to be involved with him for her mother’s benefit, Jacqueline tried to remind herself, not actually becoming involved with him for her own benefit. Though she couldn’t quite bring herself to pull her hand away, she deliberately ignored his flirtatious question.
“I think it’s time for more drastic measures, but damned if I know what. Hell, we could probably run off to Vegas and get married without taking her mind off her current show,” Jacqueline speculated. “She’d just have her assistant send us a wedding gift… a couple months later.”
“I’m game,” Ryder informed her with a sexy smile, “but Las Vegas is a bit far. On this side of the Atlantic, one usually elopes to Gretna Green. In Scotland, ya know? Honeymoon in the Highlands? Could be fun. What d’ya say?”
Again she ignored the question. “When I left the flat, I had to ask her what time I should be back. And I don’t even think she cared. She was like, ‘Whatever, one or two is fine.’ Two a.m.! I’m fourteen years old, for Christ’s sake, I should not be allowed to stay out ‘til two a.m. How am I supposed to break a rule like that?”
“That’s easy,” Ryder answered. He turned to take her other hand and starting walking backwards in front of her. “Stay out all night.” His smile was seductive.
“Yeah, right,” Jacqueline scoffed, trying to laugh off the power of his smile.
“Come on, it’s perfect,” Ryder coaxed. “What are you afraid of? It’ll be great fun.” He grinned devilishly.
“Maybe I’m afraid to find out what constitutes your idea of great fun,” Jacqueline quipped, half serious, half ready to be convinced.
“Come now, Jackie…” The look on Ryder’s face was beguilingly innocent. “How could I, in good conscience, possibly even attempt to take advantage of such a lovely girl of your tender years? I do have principles, you know.”
“And I have instincts,” Jacqueline countered, “all of which tell me to beware of your principles.”
“You wound my sense of honor, Jackie…” Ryder teased.
“I’ll just bet,” Jacqueline returned skeptically. “And, by the way, don’t call me Jackie.”
“Ah, come on, luv, be nice…” Ryder’s voice trailed off, but he continued to wear down her resistance with his eyes. They were very persuasive eyes.
“It’s against my better judgment,” Jacqueline conceded slowly a few seconds later, “but… alright.”
“Alright, you’ll spend the night with me?” Ryder asked flashing a seductive smile. “Or, alright, I can call you Jackie?”
“Alright, I’ll stay out with you tonight,” Jacqueline corrected laughingly. “But I will not let you call me Jackie.”
“Hmm, well, that’s alright…” Ryder granted with a thoughtful nod. Then he looked straight at her with sparkling eyes and another devilish grin. “I have all night to change your mind.”
* * * * *
Ryder wouldn’t tell Jacqueline where they were going as they descended into the London Underground and boarded a train. They transferred to a commuter train and got off at a small station a little outside the city. It was almost 11 p.m.
“Well, you’re stuck out here with me now,” Ryder informed her playfully, glancing at his watch. “This train doesn’t run back into London until morning.”
“And where are we exactly?”
“Patience, luv, we’re almost there. You’ll see soon enough.”
True to his word, their destination was just a couple of blocks from the station.
“It’s a carnival!” Jacqueline exclaimed in surprised delight.
“I get the feeling you were rather expecting some dodgy tavern with cheap rooms upstairs.”
“Well…” He wasn’t far off.
“Come now, Jackie,” Ryder reminded her with a teasing condescension, “you’re a child.”
“My name’s not ‘Jackie,’” Jacqueline insisted, “and I’m not a child… Oh my God, what a beautiful carousel!”
“Sure you’re not,” Ryder smirked. Then he laughed, grabbed her hand and started pulling her in that direction. “Come on, then. Let’s go have a ride.”
From the moment she mounted her magical white unicorn and Ryder his majestic black stallion, Jacqueline decided to simply relax and enjoy herself. It wasn’t hard. After the carousel, there was the roller coaster, then the bumper cars, then the house of mirrors. Still laughing their heads off at the sight of the two of them each two feet tall, they headed for the tea cups. When they had spun themselves around fast enough to nearly make them both throw up, they decided maybe it was time for a break from the rides. Walking toward the game booths, Jacqueline spotted a vendor selling cotton candy.
“Oh my God, cotton candy. That must be the most disgusting snack ever invented. It’s like pure sugar.”
“So that means you want me to buy you some, right?” Ryder questioned dryly.
“Yeah!” Jacqueline replied, grinning like the child he had been insisting she was all night. Watching Ryder light up a cigarette while he waited for the vendor to make the cotton candy, Jacqueline realized how much she wanted for him to stop looking at her as a little girl. As she took the fluffy globe of spun sugar from him, she came up with an idea.
“Let’s go to the video arcade,” she suggested innocently.
“You play video games?” Ryder asked.
“Actually, I really like watching other people playing them. I mean, I try sometimes, but I’m pretty bad.”
They entered the arcade and Jacqueline let Ryder choose the machine. He played first and Jacqueline watched in amusement as he obviously threw the game. He was trying to hustle her! How perfect, she thought.
“Hm, I guess I’m not quite as bad as I thought. I think I can at least beat your score,” Jacqueline said stepping up to the machine as if determined to give it all she had. In a performance that she hoped was much more convincing than the one Ryder had just given, Jacqueline pretended to struggle mightily to achieve a score that was just slightly higher than the one Ryder had just earned.
“Yea, I beat you!” Jacqueline exclaimed, practically jumping up and down. “Oh my God, I can’t believe it, I never beat anyone. This is so cool!”
“Hey, you only bested my score by a tiny, miniscule margin,” Ryder pointed out defensively. “And besides, I wasn’t even trying that hard. I bet you couldn’t do it again.”
“I don’t know, I’m pretty sure I could,” Jacqueline taunted.
“Oh you are, are you? How ’bout a little wager then, Jackie? If you win—”
“Then you have to stop calling me ‘Jackie.’”
“Alright. And if I win?”
“Then I…” Jacqueline appeared to give this some serious thought. “Then I’ll let you kiss me.”
“Who says I want to kiss a little girl?”
“Oh, you totally do.”
“I think you know you’re going to lose and you just want me to kiss you,” Ryder mocked. “In fact, maybe you’re actually going to throw the game.”
“Yeah, right,” Jacqueline scoffed. “First of all, I would never throw the game. And second, I’m not gonna lose. If you don’t want the kiss, you can ask for something else. Whatever it is, you’re not gonna get it anyway.”
“Alright, I’ll take the kiss. Let’s go. Ladies first.”
“Oh, no. After you, I insist. Besides my game’ll probably take a while.”
“Fine,” Ryder agreed. He took over the machine and, just as Jacqueline had expected, proceeded to display a good deal of previously hidden proficiency, more than quadrupling his previous score.
“What a minute,” Jacqueline exclaimed as if she were just catching on, “are you trying to hustle me?”
“Whatever makes you think that?” Ryder asked, flashing his most innocent smile. “I’m just warmed up, that’s all.”
“Yeah, well I guess it’s a good thing I’ve warmed up a little to,” Jacqueline replied with a smile that was far from innocent. Taking the controls, she effortlessly worked her way up to Ryder’s score, surpassed it by a couple hundred points and killed herself off.
“Alright, so how high a score could you have gotten if you kept trying?” Ryder asked sullenly.
“I don’t know. I think my high score on this game is something like twice that,” Jacqueline answered matter-of-factly. “But I made my point, so I figure why waste any more of our time.”
“Indeed, Jacqueline, I stand defeated. Some might even say humiliated.”
“Well, it’s not your fault that I have little else to do with my time,” Jacqueline conceded a bit sadly. “Come on, let’s go back to the rides.”
They walked out of the arcade into the surrounding game booths.
“You don’t happen to have some sort of hidden talent for carnival games, do you?” Ryder asked dryly.
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“Alright then, may I win you something?”
“If it will help restore your bruised male ego,” Jacqueline teased, relieved that he didn’t seem mad at her, “then, by all means, be my guest.”
He stepped up to a booth requiring the player to pop balloons with darts and proceeded to demonstrate his considerable expertise. Jacqueline watched, impressed, and wondered if her plan had worked.
“So, which one do you want?” Ryder asked a few minutes later when he had qualified for the largest class of furry, stuffed prizes. Jacqueline deliberated.
“I think I’ll take the ostrich,” she decided finally.
“Actually, I’ve always thought of her as an emu,” the booth attendant corrected.
Ryder and Jacqueline looked at the attendant then at each other and starting laughing.
“Well, whatever,” Jacqueline managed between laughs, “I’ll take her.”
Jacqueline found out that her plan had indeed worked a few minutes later as the three of them—Jacqueline, Ryder and the emu—sat together on the Ferris wheel.
“So,” Ryder asked, breaking a comfortable silence, “does winning you an emu merit a kiss?”
“But I thought you thought of me as a child…” Jacqueline protested coyly.
“Yes, well, our little bet got me thinking and now, I must admit, I’m curious.”
“Are you?” Jacqueline smiled. Her plan had worked like a charm. She’d made Ryder stop thinking of her as a little girl. “Well, I suppose one kiss would be okay…”
Ryder slipped his arm around her and leaned in for the kiss. Though rather brief and not overly involved, it was the by far the best kiss of Jacqueline’s limited experience. Ryder, who had deliberately kept things relatively innocent, was surprised by how strongly the simple kiss had affected him. Both wanted more but decided it was best to be patient for the moment.
Ryder sat back in the seat with a satisfied smile and tightened his arm around Jacqueline. His plan had worked like a charm. He had never thought of Jacqueline as a little girl. But he had gotten tired of the way she seemed to see him as some sort of unscrupulous and dangerous playboy constantly trying to find ways to seduce her. Now, in the course of one simple night, he had convinced her that she needed to find ways to seduce him. Damn, he was good.
Read Camisha's "Goldfish Crackers"