Young Americans Fan Fiction
Wicked Game by Camisha
Title: Wicked Game, Part 5
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: To my beta-reader and British-language advisor, Cate. I normally hate having my things proofread, but you made the process painless.
Feedback: Pretty, pretty please with sugar on top.
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The longer Ryder sat chain-smoking in his room after Jacqueline’s departure, the less confident he became. This thing with Hamilton worried him, as did Jacqueline’s apparent determination to resist him. And the worst part was that she had every reason to be wary of him.
From her perspective, he did change constantly. To the rest of the world, he was fairly consistent—perpetually detached, invariably callous, predictably cruel, ever the provocateur. With her, however, he had always been a bit different—provocative yet gentle, sardonic yet warm, cynical yet involved. How was she to know which was the “act” and which was “real”?
As sweet as he might try to be to her now in an effort to win her back, he had as bad a reputation at Rawley as he had had in London. He amused himself here with as unsavory a crowd as he had in London. He had fooled around with as many insignificant girls here as he had in London. And, no matter how hard he tried to shield her from those facts, she was bound to find out about them one way or another, just as she had in London…
* * * * *
No, I don’t wanna fall in love
No, I don’t wanna fall in love with you…
“What did you do before we started hanging out?” Jacqueline asked suddenly, looking up from her mocha to meet his eyes across the table.
It was just past sunset and they had been sitting in the coffee shop for hours. Pleasant conversation had lapsed into comfortable silence, but Ryder had begun to play footsie with her under the table and he could see that it was making her nervous. She had obviously posed the question with the aim of distracting him.
“Is this your way of asking how I ever managed to live without you?” he teased without taking his mind off the naked calf that he was gently stroking with his bare foot.
“Of course not.” Jacqueline blushed slightly—whether from his verbal or his physical teasing, he was not sure—and Ryder was surprised to find it such a delightful turn-on. He made a mental note to make her blush more often.
“It’s just that we’ve been spending a lot of time together,” she continued, “and I was wondering if you don’t have other friends that you’ve been… you know… neglecting.”
“Is this your way of telling me that we’re spending too much time together?” he teased again. He was rewarded with another small blush.
“Oh, no!” Jacqueline was immediately embarrassed by the vehemence of her denial. “I mean, whatever… I was just… you know… curious.” She was blushing more and, after a few seconds, he decided to take pity on her.
“Yes, Jackie, I do have friends,” he informed her laughingly.
“And do you call them all by names that they hate, or am I just special in that respect?”
“Actually, luv, I think you’re special in several respects.”
She looked at him suspiciously for a second before scoffing at him. “You are so full of it.”
“And you are so completely incapable of graciously accepting a compliment,” he pointed out.
She thought about that for a second. “I’m sorry,” she conceded.
“Oh, you needn’t be. You were right,” Ryder admitted deadpan. “I was full of it.”
Jacqueline shook her head at him. “You are such a jerk,” she informed him, ruining it by not being able to keep a smile off her face. “I don’t like you.”
“Ah, but you see, this is where so many blokes get it wrong. They think they want girls to like them, so they try to be nice to them. But what they really want is for girls to want them, and that requires an entirely different approach…”
“Meaning?”
“Well, you know that boys like girls that play hard-to-get—girls that seem physically unavailable. Getting the girl to submit becomes a challenge, which makes her all the more desirable. You might think boys would like girls who were easy, but they don’t want a girl who just gives it away, they want to earn it.” Ryder pulled a cigarette out of a pack sitting on the table, put it between his lips, lit it and exhaled slowly. “Of course, when they succeed, the challenge is gone and they no longer find the girl as desirable, compelling them to move on.” He offered her the lit cigarette.
“Riiight.” She accepted the offered cigarette and Ryder pulled another one from the pack as he continued.
“Now girls are actually almost exactly the same way, only their goal is a relationship rather than sex. So you might think they would like boys that treated them well and weren’t afraid to show their love and commitment, but again they don’t want a boy who just gives these things freely, they want to work for it. So they go for boys who are emotionally unavailable. You know: distant, moody, unpredictable. Girls find that totally irresistible. Getting the boy to open up to her becomes the challenge and the girl is convinced that, once she accomplishes this feat, she will discover this beautiful lost soul and that, having rescued him from his self-imposed isolation, she will have become indispensable to him and he will love her forever.” Ryder’s tone showed clearly how improbable he found that outcome. He lit his own cigarette, took a long drag and held it a moment before releasing it languidly. “Which is why innocent young girls like bad older boys… and vice versa.”
Jacqueline tilted her head and looked at him with mock suspicion. “Are you calling me an innocent young girl?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Making you the bad older boy?”
“If you like…”
“So basically what you’re saying is that you’re attracted to me because I’m…”
“So endearingly distrustful and delightfully wary of me.”
“Therefore, your goal is to convince me to trust you,” Jacqueline clarified slowly. “But then, once I do, you’ll lose interest in me. Is that right?”
“Actually, earning your trust is immaterial,” Ryder noted matter-of-factly, “… as long as I get you to sleep with me.”
“Right, of course,” Jacqueline replied, struggling to match his blasé tone. “At which point, theoretically, you’ll lose interest?”
“Exactly.”
“And remind me again of why this whole scenario is supposed to appeal to me…”
“Because you don’t actually believe that all I want is to shag you,” Ryder explained easily. “You think it’s all a front I’m putting up to keep my emotional distance and that, once you break down my defenses…”
“I’ll discover your ‘beautiful lost soul’,” Jacqueline finished skeptically.
“Exactly. And you hope that then, having rescued me…”
“I’ll earn your undying love.”
“Precisely.”
Jacqueline just stared at him for a minute as she took another drag of her cigarette, wondering if he really believed what he had just said. Ryder looked back at her, wondering the exact same thing. Her next question surprised him.
“So, do you have a ‘beautiful lost soul’?” She sounded highly doubtful.
His expression revealed nothing. He shrugged.
“And supposing you did, how would you rate my chances of actually breaking down your defenses?”
“Not very high,” he admitted after a moment’s reflection.
“Yet you really believe that I’m naïve enough to try?”
He shrugged.
“Or is it just that you think I’m a masochist? That all women are masochists?”
He shrugged again and there was a silence as they continued to regard each other.
“That is such bullshit,” she said finally.
Though his expression remained impassive, inside Ryder delighted in her indignation, just as he had in her embarrassment a few minutes ago. He couldn’t decide which one he enjoyed more. It suddenly occurred to him that he could spend years with her alternately provoking these two responses without ever getting bored.
The thought unnerved him. He rather counted on the fact that nearly every girl he’d ever met bored him almost instantly. It kept things simple—play the game, get what you want, and move on. Yet, he sensed that things with Jacqueline risked becoming more complicated. Maybe that was why some part of him had decided on giving her that little good girl/bad boy exposé. He wanted to scare her off.
“Then why are you with me?” he challenged. “You just told me that I’m a jerk and that you don’t like me.”
She looked him straight in the eye and gave a shrug of her own.
“Because you’re hot.”
His impassive expression broke into a sexy smirk. Somehow this innocent young girl never ceased to impress him.
“Well, in that case, wanna go back to your place and snog?” he asked.
She contemplated that for a moment. “Well, the correct answer to that would appear to be ‘no.’ I mean, according to your theory, to hold your interest and ultimately accomplish my goal of making you fall madly in love with me, I believe I’m required to play hard to get. Snogging at my place would hardly seem to be in keeping with my objectives.”
“Well, that would be one way of looking at it,” Ryder agreed slowly. “One could also argue, however, that snogging at your place will only serve to pique my interest so long as you don’t…” Ryder waved his cigarette to convey his meaning.
“Give it up?” Jacqueline supplied.
“Exactly. I mean, you can hardly hope to keep me hanging around long enough to make yourself emotionally indispensable to me without stringing me along and leading me to believe that at any moment I will actually…” Again, a wave of the cigarette.
“Get into my pants?”
“How I do adore your American colloquialisms, Jackie.”
“How I would adore your British accent if it would stop calling me ‘Jackie’…” Jacqueline retorted. “No one calls me Jackie.”
“Does it occur to you that perhaps I enjoy calling you ‘Jackie’ precisely because I know that no one else does so?” Ryder asked gently. “Maybe I’d like to be special to you. Maybe I’d like you to allow me to be special to you…”
She studied him for a long moment and, for a brief second, he thought she was about to soften. But then suspicion clouded her features.
“What occurs to me is that in order to keep me hanging around long enough to get into my pants, you are actually obliged to pretend from time to time that you’re about to open up to me emotionally…”
“Your suspicion wounds me, luv. I’m beginning to think you’re taking this whole conversation a little too seriously.” Ryder expertly put innocent concern in his tone and on his face. “You know I didn’t actually mean any of the rubbish I just said, don’t you? Honestly, luv, I…”
“Oh, stop. That’s just pathetic. Of course you meant it. Whatever. Just let me go to the bathroom and then we can head back to my place.”
Ryder smiled as he watched her make her way towards the restrooms. She acted tough and jaded, but she couldn’t possibly be as immune to him as she liked to pretend. He frowned. Of course that wasn’t the real problem. The real problem was that he definitely wasn’t immune to her… and he couldn’t seem to make up his mind between drawing her in and scaring her off… Before he could deliberate further, she returned.
“You know,” she stood behind her chair and rested her hands on its back, “I was thinking—we’ve gone back to my place every night this week…”
“Well, I’ve told you, my father generally does entertaining of his own in the evenings…”
“No, I mean maybe we ought to vary our activities a little. You know, do something besides… make out…”
“If you’re bored already, then I’m obviously doing something wrong. Most girls don’t tire of my technique that quickly…” He trailed off and looked at her expectantly.
She looked back at him questioningly and then laughed. “You’re fishing for compliments, aren’t you? This is where I’m supposed to jump in to assure you that you that your ‘technique’ is faultless, right?”
“Can’t say that I’d mind…”
“Well, let’s just say you obviously haven’t lacked for practice… so I’m sure you haven’t lacked for compliments from far more experienced girls…”
“Do I detect a hint of jealousy?”
“No, you merely detect an unwillingness to further contribute to your insufferable arrogance.”
“Fair enough.” Ryder nodded his acceptance of her position. “So, if you aren’t bored then, let’s get out of here.” He stood and started for the door.
“Actually,” Jacqueline persisted as she followed him outside, “I was thinking maybe we could hang out with some of your friends tonight. I mean, now that you’ve admitted to having them and all.”
“Decided you’re afraid to be alone with me after all, have you?”
“Of course not. I just thought your friends might be doing something fun tonight and you shouldn’t have to miss out because you’re with me.”
“Oh, I doubt they’re doing anything interesting.”
“Couldn’t you call and find out?”
“I don’t have the numbers.”
“Aren’t they programmed into your cell phone?”
“You know,” Ryder said as he reached into his jacket pockets and pretended not to find the phone he felt there, “I think I left it at home.”
As if on cue, the phone rang. Jacqueline looked at him in question. He smiled back at her sheepishly.
“Guess I do have it after all.” He stopped walking for a second and reached back into his pocket to pull the phone out. “Don’t know how I missed that…” He glanced at the caller ID display and then promptly put the ringing phone back in his pocket and started walking again.
“Wait.” Perplexed, Jacqueline hurried after him. “Aren’t you going to answer it?”
“It’s nothing important.”
“Wait a minute.” She tugged at his sleeve, but the kept walking. “It’s one of your friends, isn’t it?”
“Don’t be ridiculous…”
“I can’t believe you. Answer it!”
“Really, it’s no one.”
“What? Is it some other girl?”
“Of course not.”
“Well, answer it then.” Jacqueline stepped in front of him to make him stop walking. He just looked at her. “Fine. If you won’t, then I will.”
Before he realized what she was about to do, she had reached into his pocket and grabbed the still ringing phone.
“Hello?” she answered in her best receptionist voice. She smiled in relief to hear a male voice on the other end of the line. “Yes, he is. May I ask who’s calling, please? … One moment.”
“It’s Drew,” she said to Ryder, holding out the phone.
“Thanks,” he responded dryly, flashing her an annoyed glare as he took the offered phone.
“Yes?” Ryder’s tone was impatient as he put the phone to his ear and resumed walking, taking Jacqueline’s hand with his free one to pull her along.
“Good evening to you, too, mate,” Drew responded dryly on the other end of the line. When Ryder remained silent, he continued. “I’m glad you’re there. For a minute, I was afraid you weren’t going to answer.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Right, then. So, who’s the girl? Or, more importantly, what were you and the girl doing that you didn’t want to answer?” Drew’s tone was light and teasing. Ryder’s was not.
“None of your business. On both counts.”
“Well,” Drew continued, unperturbed, “I know it’s not Lucy, since she’s at my place with everyone else… She is, by the way, totally into you, mate. She’s barely even feigning interest in anyone else anymore and we all know she’s just entertaining herself as she awaits your mysterious midnight arrival…” He paused for a second as he thought about something. “You know, I figured you were just coming late this last week or so to show Lucy that she isn’t the only one who can play hard to get. I had no idea that you were actually spending your early evenings with someone else. Lucy would be bloody furious if she found out.”
“Yes, well you’ll forgive me if I don’t find that prospect terribly worrisome.” Ryder glanced over at Jacqueline. “Now, if that is the only reason you rang me…”
“No, no, that wasn’t it at all,” Drew rushed to assure Ryder, afraid he might hang up. “We actually have a rather urgent problem. Where are you right now?”
“Nowhere near you.”
“Please, mate.”
Ryder sighed. “We’re in Soho. We just left Mimi’s headed towards the theatres. Why?”
“Thank God, that’s perfect. You can’t be far from The Galway. You know it, right? It’s that Irish pub by Covent Garden.”
“Yes, I know it, but I have no intention of going there. I already have plans,” Ryder informed him, ignoring Jacqueline attempts to make eye contact.
“It’s not for a social gathering, it’s Robbie,” Drew said urgently. “You have to go there and warn him.”
“Of what?”
“Alright, you know that girl, Jade?”
“Jade? No.”
“Sure you do,” Drew insisted. “You two were some sort of item awhile back. You were the one who first brought her ‘round.”
“Drew,” Ryder protested impatiently, “I don’t know anyone named… Oh, you mean Janice. Her real name isn’t Jade, it’s Janice.” He noticed that Jacqueline was listening intently. “Anyway, I haven’t seen her in a long time,” he added for Jacqueline’s benefit.
“Jade, Janice, whatever. The important thing is that she and Robbie are out at The Galway.”
“Thanks for the update,” Ryder muttered sarcastically. “And here I thought she was still shagging her two-bit drug dealer, Martin…”
“Could you just drop the sarcasm for a second and listen, mate? She is still with Martin. Which is why he was bloody furious when he found out she’s cheating on him. Which is why you’ve got to get to the bloody Galway before Martin does. He’s on his way as we speak.”
“Is it my fault Robbie is a bloody idiot?” Ryder asked testily as he stopped to get his bearings and turned to walk in the direction of The Galway. Confused, Jacqueline hurried after him.
“No, but he’s your mate and you know he’d look out for you in a similar situation.”
“I wouldn’t be so foolish as to get myself into a similar situation…” Ryder muttered, “but I’m on my way. Why couldn’t you just warn him yourself, by the way?”
“I was trying to. I’m in my car, but I’m stuck in traffic.” Drew sighed and Ryder suddenly realized how worried his friend actually was. “I should be there in twenty minutes. Just get Robbie out of there and then ring me and tell me where to pick him up, okay?”
“Of course, mate. Don’t worry.” Ryder hung up to phone and turned to address Jacqueline. “Sorry about that. Look, there’s a little problem I have to take care of. Why don’t you just head back to your place and I’ll meet you there as soon as I’m finished?”
“Why don’t I just come along and wait for you?” Jacqueline suggested. “I don’t mind.”
“I’m not sure how long things will take. I think it would be better if you waited at home,” Ryder said firmly. He stopped at a corner, took her elbow and gently turned her in the direction of her mother’s flat. “Run along, now, and I’ll be right there.”
“I can’t believe you!” Jacqueline angrily shook his hand off her elbow, folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. “Stop treating me like a child. Why are you trying so hard to get rid of me, anyway? Are you embarrassed to introduce me to your friends?”
“Did it ever occur to you that maybe it’s my friends that I’m embarrassed to introduce to you?” She continued to glare at him, unimpressed. “Look, I’m begging you—please go wait at home.”
She didn’t budge.
“Please, Jackie?” Ryder cajoled, giving her his most persuasive smile. “I’ll be there before you even have time to miss me.”
“Ryder, if you send me home right now, you will not be welcome to join me there later. Or ever, for that matter.”
Her eyes and stance showed her determination and Ryder knew she would not be convinced. He almost sent her home anyway, but was afraid she really wouldn’t forgive him and he wasn’t quite sure he could deal with that. He sighed heavily in resignation.
“Fine, come along then, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Read Camisha's "Goldfish Crackers"