Young Americans Fan Fiction
Wicked Game by Camisha
Title: Wicked Game, Part 4
Author: Camisha
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.
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Ryder stood staring off after Jake until he suddenly realized what he was doing and snapped out of it. He cursed himself, pulled out a cigarette and lit it, then walked off into the woods. He wondered idly how the scene between him and Jake had looked to the students still sitting on the dock. They probably thought his homophobia stemmed from his repressed desire for Jake. They probably thought he tormented Hamilton out of jealousy. He laughed bitterly to himself. Well, they were half right. He had never actually been homophobic and he certainly wasn’t gay, but he did long for Jake—sometimes so bad he could hardly breath—and he sure resented the hell out of Hamilton.
What did she see in him, anyway? He was so… pedestrian and… wholesome. Hamilton would never have taught her how to smoke a cigarette. Hamilton had probably never even held a cigarette. The kid obviously wanted to rebel against having the dean and his wife for parents, but was too boring and innocent to even figure out how. In fact, getting involved with a cross-dressing girl who had managed to sneak herself and her motorcycle into his father’s school was surely by far the most interesting thing ever to happen in Hamilton’s charmed but dull little life.
That and his mother’s affair with the self-consciously unconventional, “no-mister-necessary” Finn, Ryder thought scornfully. There was no accounting for taste, he supposed. He wondered what Batgirl would do if he found out. Probably cry… on Jake’s shoulder. Damn it, when he, Ryder, found out about his mother’s affair and, subsequently, his parents’ divorce, he hadn’t had a shoulder to cry on… so he hadn’t cried. He smoked, he drank… did some recreational drugs… committed a few misdemeanors… but, damn it, he never cried.
It vexed Ryder to no end that Jake had fallen for Hamilton’s whole shy, sensitive loner thing before he had had the chance to work his way back onto her good graces. But then again, she had fallen for Hamilton before he had even realized Jake was at Rawley Boys…
* * * * *
As he walked across the Rawley Academy lawn, the younger students gave Ryder a wide berth. They sensed that he wasn’t somebody they wanted to disturb and were deliberately staying out of his path. If they hadn’t been, he probably would have run one of them down since he paid almost no attention to where he was going. He was preoccupied with thoughts of Jacqueline.
It had been a week since he had picked her up on the road to New Rawley. He had hoped she would come to find him, but after a few days, he started making some discreet inquires on the girls’ campus in hopes of finding out enough about her schedule to “accidentally” run into her. But for some reason, no one there seemed to have heard of her. Still, he was sure she was here and he was determined to find her.
Stopping to light a cigarette, he took a moment to survey his surroundings. He was looking for someone on whom to take out his frustration. He saw the dean’s son sitting in the grass about 50 yards away. Hamilton—always one of his favorite subjects to torment. He started in that direction, but paused as another boy rushed up to Hamilton. Ryder noticed that Hamilton looked extremely uncomfortable as he and the other boy exchanged words. The boy looked a little freaked out about something. Then the boy’s expression turned to one of irritation and he turned to walk away. Hamilton stopped him
Something about the boy reminded Ryder of someone. He frowned, unable to figure out whom. He moved forward for a closer look, but now the boy was walking away from Hamilton in the opposite direction. Then, suddenly, the boy turned to glance back at Hamilton. Ryder had a split second to wonder at the naked longing on the face that seemed so oddly familiar before the boy raised his gaze and locked eyes with Ryder.
Now Ryder knew exactly of whom the boy reminded him and, as the boy’s face registered recognition and then fear, he wondered if it was more than a mere resemblance. But before Ryder could be sure of what he suspected, the “boy” turned and hurried away. Ryder approached Hamilton.
“Well, if it isn’t Hamilton Fleming, all grown up and starting at his daddy’s school…”
“What do you want, Ryder?” Hamilton snapped. “I’m not in the mood.”
“Come now,” Ryder chastised, “is that any way to greet an old friend?”
“We’re not friends, Ryder, and I said I’m not in the mood to play whatever game you’re playing, alright?” Hamilton stood up and started to walk away.
“Hey, hold on a second,” Ryder insisted, following after him. “I know we haven’t exactly been on the best of terms in the past…”
“You’ve always gone out of your way to torment me,” Hamilton observed dryly.
“Mea culpa,” Ryder admitted amiably. “But I thought, now that you’ve joined the student body, perhaps we could be friends. You know, ‘hang out,’ as you young Americans like to say.”
“I have enough friends, thanks.”
“Ah, yes, like the one you were just talking to. He seems like a nice fellow. I think I have a class with him. What’s his name again?”
“Jake,” Hamilton answered curtly.
“Right… Jake,” Ryder repeated with a smile. He decided to test his hypothesis. “Jake Pratt, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Hamliton suddenly became suspicious. “What do you care anyway?”
“I told you, I’m looking for someone to hang out with… and you don’t seem terribly interested. You wouldn’t happen to know what room Jake is in, would you?”
“Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. Leave him alone, Ryder.”
“Oh my, awfully protective, aren’t we? You know, I witnessed your little tete-a-tete back there. There seemed to be a bit of… tension between you two,” Ryder mused provocatively.
“Look, Ryder, whatever you’re trying to imply, just forget it,” Hamilton said calmly, trying not to sound too defensive. “Jake’s new. I barely know him. But no one I know deserves your crap. So, if you really want to turn over a new leaf—which I highly doubt—just leave me and my friends alone.”
Hamilton walked away toward his house and, this time, Ryder didn’t follow him. He headed for the dorms instead, laughing softly to himself over Hamilton’s words. If Ryder’s suspicion was correct, Hamilton knew even less about “Jake” than he thought.
Deciding it would be beneath him to go door-to-door looking for “Jake,” Ryder returned to his own room and waited to see if “Jake” wouldn’t come to him. He didn’t have to wait long for the knock on his door. Lounging on his bed, he almost called, “Come in,” but thought better of it.
“Who is it?” he asked instead.
There was a pause. “Jake,” answered a voice that was lower than he expected.
“Jake,” Ryder repeated loudly. “Do I know you?”
“I think you know you do.” The voice was still lowered, but now it contained that lovely and familiar hint of thinning patience that always told him he was getting to her—to Jacqueline. What a turn on.
“Come on in, then,” he invited.
She entered and quickly shut the door behind her. Suddenly, the impatience was gone and she was all hesitation and nervousness, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and tugging at her hair as she let him take in her appearance.
“Hi,” she said awkwardly.
“Hi, indeed, Jake,” Ryder replied from the bed where he still lounged on his side, head propped up on his elbow. He relished her discomfort. He wanted her badly.
She stepped a bit further into the room and opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it again. She put her hands in her pockets, sighed, and took them out again. Finally, she spoke.
“I’m…” She sighed again. “I’m just…”
“Trying to get your mother’s attention again?” he suggested with a knowing smile.
“Basically… mmm… yeah.”
Ryder shifted to sit on the edge of the bed. “Com’ere,” he commanded softly with a slight incline of his head.
Jacqueline complied without thinking. When she stopped at arm’s length, Ryder reached out, found the front belt loops beneath the hem of her shirt with his fingers, and pulled her forward between his legs. He studied her flat chest, which was now at eye level just inches away. He moved his hands further up under her shirt to run them over the unyielding corset beneath. Sliding his hands higher, he encountered only stiffness where softness ought to have been.
It was strange for Jacqueline to watch him run his hands over her ribs and concealed breasts. She felt almost nothing through the thickness of the corset… and yet the action was surprisingly arousing. Their eyes met and held. His fingers found the corset’s Velcro fastenings and ripped them loose.
She closed her eyes as Ryder drew the garment out from under her shirt. She found herself imagining that it was Hamilton unwrapping her, unmasking her. Hamilton, reaching again beneath the hem of her shirt and encountering only bare skin this time. Hamilton, playing his fingers lightly over that bared skin, moving ever so slowly upward. Hamilton, at last cupping her breasts through the thin cotton of her bra. She moaned softly and her eyes fluttered open.
“Ryder, no!” Jacqueline cried, coming to her senses. “Please stop.” She stepped back and pulled down her shirt, maintaining a protective hold on the hem with both hands.
“Why?” Ryder asked casually. “You seemed to be enjoying yourself…”
“I wasn’t— I… I…” Jacqueline was flustered. “That’s not the point,” she finally insisted firmly.
“What is the point?” he asked skeptically. Then he realized something. “Don’t you get hot wearing all those layers?”
“You get used to it,” she replied with a shrug before returning to the main topic. “The point is that I shouldn’t have let that happen.”
“Why not? Don’t tell me you didn’t like it. I won’t believe you. You know, you could take off some of that clothing.”
“Like you were just doing? I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I still don’t see why you’re so against the two of us… having a little fun, but that’s not what I meant. I just meant that maybe you’d like to take advantage of the fact that this is the one place on campus—save for your own room, I guess—where you don’t have to pretend you’re a guy.”
Jacqueline frowned at him for a long second, let out a resigned sigh and then abruptly started to remove clothing until she wore only her bra and a pair of boxers. She stalked over to Ryder’s dresser, searched through the drawers until she found a tank top, pulled it out and yanked it over her head. Finally, she stormed over to his desk and sat down heavily in the chair. She turned to glare at him expectantly.
“What? Aren’t you more comfortable now?”
“Yes,” Jacqueline admitted resentfully.
“Then what ever is your problem?” Ryder asked in exasperation. “I was just trying to be considerate.”
“Exactly.”
“So you don’t want me to be considerate…?” Ryder was confused. He reached for his cigarettes. “You want one?”
“Yes… and no.”
“Which?”
“Yes, give me the damn cigarette and no, I don’t want you to be considerate.”
“Alright, if you want the cigarette,” Ryder declared, “you’ll have to explain that.”
“Look, what I was trying to tell you before you… changed the subject… is that… I can’t… I can’t do this again. I can’t—I don’t want—to get involved with you again. I know that…” Jacqueline sighed heavily and her forehead furrowed. “Only, when you start being all sweet like this, you make me doubt myself.”
“Is that so bad? Maybe I’ve changed.” He handed her the cigarette.
“But that was always the problem, Ryder—you changed constantly. I never knew what was really you and what was just some… act… or front.” She leaned forward so he could light her cigarette. “Are you even allowed to smoke in the dorms?” He smirked at her. “Sorry, dumb question.”
“You’ve been spending too much time with the dean’s son,” Ryder remarked dryly.
A guilty looked flashed across her face. It was gone quickly, but Ryder caught it. He studied her for a second. “He’s the real reason, isn’t he?”
“Ryder, you know the reasons and he has nothing to do with them.”
“Still, you two are....” He made a little wave with his cigarette in lieu of finishing the sentence.
“There is nothing going on between me and Hamilton.”
“Jacqueline, I saw the way you were looking at him on the lawn…”
“Whatever, Ryder, he thinks I’m a guy,” Jacqueline tried to dismiss the whole subject. Ryder noticed how she didn’t deny having feelings for Hamilton.
“That doesn’t mean he isn’t interested.”
“Believe me, it does,” she insisted.
Ryder could hear that there was a story behind that statement and raised his eyebrows to indicate that she should elaborate. She almost refused to comply, but finally admitted with a sigh: “I kissed him, okay. We were up on the roof together and I wasn’t thinking and I kissed him. He freaked out and now he thinks I’m gay and he pretty much wants nothing to do with me.”
“Oh, that’s perfect,” Ryder announced with a laugh. “You’ve probably got him questioning his sexuality now. Too fabulous! I’ll have to have a little chat with young Hamilton about this…”
“Just leave him alone, Ryder,” Jacqueline pleaded.
“Funny, that’s exactly what he said about you.”
“You talked to him about me?”
“Don’t worry, I didn’t give away any of your secrets.”
“Of course you didn’t.” Jacqueline walked over to pick her corset and clothes up off the floor and carefully began reconstructing her disguise as she continued her cigarette. “You’re probably waiting for a moment that will be much more painful and humiliating.”
“Actually, I suspect it will be much more entertaining to watch you muddle through this without my interference.”
Jacqueline reflected on the probable truth of that statement as she checked her appearance in the mirror over Ryder’s dresser. “God, is there no end to the stupid things I’ll do to try to get my mother’s attention?” she asked rhetorically, blowing smoke at her reflection.
“You mean like dating me?” Ryder asked as he came up behind her, adding his reflection to her own.
Jacqueline spun around, surprised by the hurt Ryder hadn’t fully concealed in his voice. “Ryder, that’s not what I meant,” she insisted.
The wounded look he flashed her before he lowered his head told her that he didn’t believe her. She tilted his chin up with left hand, forcing him to meet her eyes.
“Hey,” she said softly.
His gaze was forlorn. “Was I really that awful to you?” he asked sadly.
“Sometimes you were,” Jacqueline answered honestly and Ryder’s face seemed to fall even further. “But sometimes…” she continued, “sometimes you were charming…”
Their faces slowly drifted closer…
“… and sexy…”
Their warm breath mingled…
“… and irresistible…”
Their lips touched…
“Ow! Shit!” Jacqueline’s cigarette was burning her fingers. She dropped it reflexively, then swore again and stamped it out.
As Ryder wisely went to put out his own diminishing cigarette in an ashtray, Jacqueline had time to regain her composure. Something occurred to her.
“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” she accused. “Pretending I hurt your feelings?”
Ryder shrugged, his expression now neutral.
“Why are you constantly trying to manipulate me?” she demanded.
“Because it works?” he suggested blandly.
Ryder watched with concealed pleasure as her eyes filled with the angry indignation he had been courting. But suddenly her expression went blank.
“I’m leaving,” she said without emotion.
Ryder was genuinely alarmed by her indifference. She had always been anything but indifferent to him. He moved quickly to the door and took hold of the doorknob before she could do it herself.
“Okay,” he agreed, rapidly changing tactics, “I understand. But you know, you can come back anytime. I mean, if you just need… to be yourself… you can come here.”
He opened the door for her and, for a tense moment, it looked as if she would walk out without a word. But at the last minute she turned back.
“Thanks,” she said softly.
He closed the door and smiled in relief. Now he knew she would be back.
Read Camisha's "Goldfish Crackers"