The Kissing Game by Marie Turner Read Free Book Online Page A

of
stretchy-granola substance and shoves it into his mouth. It smells like nuts.
    “Want some?” he offers.
    I can’t reply. I drift over to the spare chair against the wall
and sit down. Dropping my backpack on the floor, I wonder why such an ecstatic
moment feels underwritten with ugliness. I see my own reflection in Cory’s
office window, which has become a mirror. It’s as dark as night outside even
though it has to be around 8:15 a.m. The image looks warped, with blackened
rings round my eyes.
    “So what do we do now?” I ask, zombie-like.
    “Now, my skinnier Jessica Chastain, you take this.” He shoves a
flash drive inside a pre-addressed envelope, licks it, seals it, and hands it
to me. “And you drop it in the mailbox of your choice. I suggest the one on the
corner. No one will know it’s from you, so you hopefully won’t have to deal too
much with Robert. The Chairman should get it by end of the week. He’ll think
someone who hates Robert got his or her hands on the tape and sent it in. That
way, you won’t look like the bad guy in this scenario.” Cory bites and chews
with a half-smile.
    Taking the envelope from him, I inhale, feeling about to embrace a
full-on panic attack, the kind that makes you feel as if you’re actually dying.
    “I’m not sure about this,” I confess, breathless. Heavy coins seem
to be clunking around in my chest. “What if this whole thing is just, you know, wrong ? It might be wrong, don’t you think?” I ask, wondering how I’ve
gotten myself so far into this situation. Somehow I’ve been transported to a
different dimension, a place where even old men and children wear holsters that
house the giant guns they carry on each hip, where massacres are a daily
occurrence.
    Cory presses a few keys and his computer screen returns to sleep
mode, which consists of crazed robotic bunnies hopping across the screen. Then
he turns back to me, the half-eaten granola bar still in his hand.
    “Look here,” he begins seriously. “I’m not gonna tell you what to
do. I wouldn’t be a true friend if I did.” He pauses, throws the granola
wrapper in the trash, and thrusts the rest of the bar into his mouth. After
chewing, he resumes his little speech. “But do you remember that time you told
me to end my relationship with Stanley?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Remember how he kept accusing me of cheating on him with Elena?”
Cory shivers at the thought of his ex-girlfriend, a woman he dated only briefly
during a time when he questioned his sexuality. They’re just friends now. “Remember
all those times I kept thinking I could fix it with Stanley? I kept telling
myself that if I could just say the right thing or be a better man that Stanley
would finally trust me and love me and stop all that nonsense?” Cory rubs his
hands together, discarding granola bits onto the floor.
    “Yeah,” I answer. I can feel the back of my neck perspiring, so I take
off my raincoat. The room feels like a sauna.
    “But Todd and Henry kept telling me to be patient. They told me
what a great catch Stanley was, so good-looking. They told me I should be happy
as hell that some hot guy was so jealous over me. But you,” Cory leans forward,
his elbows on his knees. “ You told me enough was enough. You told
me Stanley had made me miserable for long enough. You said I deserved to
be happy, that I shouldn’t go through my life constantly fearing Stanley’s next
accusation, that I should take the risk and leave him. Do you remember that?”
Cory looks at me as if I’m five years old.
    “Yeah,” I say. “Of course.”
    “Well then.”
    He doesn’t say anything else. He just leans back in his chair.
    “So you’re saying I should go ahead and mail the flash drive to
the Chairman then?” I question.
    “I’m not saying anything. You know me better than that. I’m saying
you gave me the right advice back then. I’m saying listen to yourself. Listen
to your own advice.” Crossing his arms in front of