“Right?” Bric says. “But it’s true.”
“Why did you leave?” she asks. I’m still lathering her hair. I’m sure it’s clean by now, but I like it. I like being this intimate with her so much, it almost hurts.
“Why does anybody leave home?” Bric asks.
“I dunno,” Rochelle says.
I wonder where her home is?
“To get away,” she adds after thinking about it a second.
“To get away.” He nods. “I like Montana. There’s a lot to like about that place. The mountains, the rivers, the sunsets. I liked it.”
“But not enough to stay,” Rochelle says.
“Nope. I just had to get away. To a bigger place. I got accepted to a private high school in Denver so when I graduated, I just stayed for college. And when I graduated college, I just stayed forever.”
“How did you get the Club?” she asks.
I don’t know why I find the telling of this story so fascinating—I know it. All of it. But I’m quiet as I continue to wash Rochelle’s hair. Just listening, waiting for the best part. The way we met Smith. Those early days when things were simpler. When all we thought about was ourselves. Each other. And how we came up with the idea for the game. And later, how we came up with all the rules.
It was hard at first. Not to feel jealous of each other. Even Smith had trouble in the beginning, and that’s saying something. He and Bric both did. They expected me to be jealous, but I never was. I don’t mind sharing. I like it.
Women are hard to please. That’s something I learned early. It’s hard to fuck it up with three men to give them what they need. At least, that’s what we thought. I almost laugh at the memories. We made a lot of mistakes in the beginning, but by the time Rochelle showed up, we were experts. The whole thing just ran. Like a complicated, but well-calibrated, piece of technology.
“I met Smith when I was a freshman at DU. He was on campus. Illegally, on campus. You know Smith never went to school, right?”
“I read that somewhere,” Rochelle says.
“But he used to crash classes all the time. Just show up on the first day like he went to school there. I saw him in economics freshman year. And I totally thought he was a student. He took the tests and everything.”
“Why?” Rochelle laughs.
We’ve never talked about this with her. Hell, anyone. Why not? Why didn’t we ever tell Rochelle personal things about ourselves?
“I guess he just wanted to get a feel for it. I dunno. I never asked him. He was so fucking weird. He got caught too. Right after the first exam. The professor was like, ‘Mr. Baldwin, you’re not a student here. Get out of my classroom.’”
Bric and I both laugh. “I wasn’t there,” I say. “I was two years behind Bric in school. We went to the same high school, so I was still a junior when all this was going down.”
“Which is a good thing in retrospect,” Bric says. “Because if you were there, I’d never have bothered with him.”
“Were you guys friends already?” Rochelle asks, looking over her shoulder at me.
We both nod.
“Were you playing a game together back then?”
“Sorta,” Bric says. “We double-teamed a girl in high school.”
“God, that was a disaster.” I laugh.
“You little perverts,” Rochelle says.
Bric shrugs. “It was hot as fuck. No guy is going to turn that shit down. And it was Quin’s idea. Blame him.”
“It was a joke,” I explain when Rochelle looks over her shoulder at me again. “I was fucking around and that chick said yes. You don’t say no to that.”
“So how does Smith come into the picture?” she asks.
“I saw him the next semester,” Bric says. “Trying to take differential equations. That class was smaller. A lot smaller. So I was just waiting for it this time. He got busted the second week. And when I walked out of that class, he was outside the building. He stopped me and asked if he could have my hoodie because he was cold.”
“Your hoodie?” Rochelle laughs.
“You have no idea,” I say. “That was just the first strange request we got from Smith that year.”
“So you became friends with him?”
“I wouldn’t even call it friends,” Bric says. “He was so fucking odd. He didn’t have a home. He was only eighteen. So basically, he lived on the streets. But every now and then he’d show up on campus dressed in this five-thousand-dollar suit, you know?”
“Like he does now,” she says.
“Right. So I couldn’t figure it out. I was fascinated, if I’m being honest.”
“We invited him to a party,” I say. “And he was almost normal when he arrived. At least he was dressed normal. Jeans, t-shirt, boots and flannel, you know? Classic grunge. He must’ve gotten some cool kid to donate to his cause that day.” Bric busts out laughing at the memory. “So the three of us were just hanging out. Drinking beer and getting high and shit. And this girl comes up and points to each of us. One at a time. And then she says, ‘Follow me.’”
“We fucked her upstairs in someone’s bedroom. All three of us,” Bric says.
“And you weren’t virgins?” Rochelle laughs. “Because I’m picturing the three of you like a bunch of virgin nerds who get the offer of a lifetime.”
“Nah,” Bric laughs. “Quin and I had double-teamed for a while by then. I think she knew that.”
“For sure knew that,” I add.
“We dated her on and off, the three of us, all through college. Smith’s parents died when he was eighteen and he became this über-rich multi-billionaire. That’s when he went on his I-refuse-to-own-anything kick. He semi-lived with me in the dorms that second year of college. Then, when Quin graduated and we had enough money saved, we got a place together. That girl was around a bunch. But we had others. And then I went to med school, Quin started his business, and Smith donated money for the building we’d later turn into the Club.”
“So you guys have been doing this a very long time?”
“Very long time,” Bric says. “You know… since we were teenagers, Rochelle. Our whole adult lives.”
“And it’s not something you can easily see yourselves leaving behind?” she asks, her voice smaller now.
“Not easily. No,” Bric says.
“Oh,” Rochelle says. She peeks over her shoulder at me. “I think it’s clean.” Meaning her hair, which I am still shampooing.
I nod and step aside so she can stand under the water on the opposite side of Bric.
“But we’re trying, Rochelle.”
I look at Bric. Are we? But I don’t say it.
“We like you. Obviously,” Bric says. Rochelle stares at him as she rinses her hair under the water. “So just give it a chance. Let’s settle into whatever this is. And don’t make any decisions without talking it through this time. Do you think you can do that?”
She nods, then drops her head and puts her hands over her face.