Reed didn’t see anyone from the group for a while. Their paths didn’t cross around the Dorms, and he made no effort to seek them out. Nathan, whom he would have seen around the belt at the factory, had been promoted and had left the packing room. Lucy was still the receptionist, but Reed came and went only when the crowd was thickest. He couldn’t hide the truth, even from himself. He was avoiding them.
Reed, like anyone, had pride. It stung to be suspected, and it would be even worse if he went back as if nothing had happened. He wouldn’t plead his innocence like a naughty child, and he certainly wouldn’t live under the stain of their accusation.
But there was something else wrong, too. To be suspected by friends, to have trust broken, was a painful thing. It hurt that they would even consider him that dishonorable, as if he was capable of betrayal. What’s worse, the knife cut both ways. They had opened their circle to him, taken him in, welcomed him as a friend and, as far as they were concerned, he had stabbed them in the back.
With this on his conscience, Reed threw himself into the swirl of Dorm life like never before. Nothing was too wild or overdone. Even Reagan commented on the new Reed. “Dude, you’ve never been so much fun! I might have to try to keep up with you!”
Reed laughed and said that wouldn’t take much since Reagan had taught him everything he knew; but inside, his laughter rang hollow.
For the rest of the Hill, however, life had never looked so good. Despite all the delays, the eagerly awaited rec center finally opened. The building was everything it had been made out to be. The highest quality volleyball, basketball, and racquetball courts; enormous weight rooms with top-of-the-line equipment; the highest climbing wall in the state; an arcade and lounge; an indoor track; a four-screen cinema; a production stage and auditorium; a full food court; and even a huge indoor swimming pool were only some of the delights it offered. For the first few days, most of the teens wandered through the maze of rooms, open-mouthed. But, as the awe wore off, it turned into a popular part of everyday life. As soon as each workday ended, the complex filled with eager teenagers who stayed late, often until curfew and the RDs pushed them out.
Reed fell in love with the new building. He discovered that he liked bowling, he was a good ice-skater, and he could outshoot anybody on his hall in Eight Ball. The center became a haven for him when he needed to get out of his room or away from his thoughts. But, even in the colossal building, he couldn’t completely escape his troubles. They had a way of popping up again when he least expected them.
It was a late night in early May when Reed wandered into the gym at the heart of the complex. The room was unusually empty for that time of day—only two games of volleyball and a single basketball match with a few fans on the sidelines. The hollow thumps of pounding balls and the squeak of shoes on wood echoed through rows of empty bleachers. Reed stopped in the wide, double doorway and surveyed his options. None of the games promised to end any time soon. He took another short glance around and turned to leave. But, as he did, he came face to face with someone coming up behind him from the water fountain in the hall. It was Alec.
“Reed!” he exclaimed, his face lighting up with a delighted grin. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in forever!”
“Oh, around,” Reed answered vaguely. He fished in his pocket for something that wasn’t there. “Just… really busy.”
“Well, if you’re not now, why don’t you come in and play a game or two?” Alec invited, drying his hands on the thighs of his black soccer shorts. “Everybody’s here.”
Reed looked out over the court. Sure enough, one of the far volleyball teams was made up entirely of the teens from the group. Lucy, Nathan, Gabe, and the rest were too engrossed in a play to notice the pair by the door. Cody went up for a spike that flattened the other team’s defense.
“I’ll pass.” Reed kept his eyes on the game. “Why aren’t you playing?”
“I am. I just rotated out and stopped for a drink. Oh, come on! We could use another player.” Alec took his arm insistently.
“No!” Reed jerked back. “I can’t. It would be… awkward.”
Alec searched his face. “Reed, if this is about the whole Gabe thing, I told you, forget about it.”
“Even if I could, he wouldn’t, and you know it. I’m not going back to that. Listen, I really have to go. I’ve got something set up in five minutes.”
It was rude, and Reed knew it. Alec stepped back at the rebuff, but there was no anger in his bright eyes, only a sad understanding.
“I see,” he said quietly. “Reed, you can’t hide from it that way. Having fun and getting mixed up in stuff won’t help what you’re feeling. It’ll probably just make it worse. There’s only one real way to deal with it.”
“I’ve gotta go.” Reed turned and fled down the hall.
The incident threw him into a deep dejection for the rest of the night. Seeing all his friends again, together and happy, stabbed him with a blade of mixed emotions. That familiar sensation of looking in through a closed window was back. This time, it was flavored with the hopeless and bitter taste of a shameful exile. He understood now a little of what had drawn him toward these people from the beginning. Never had they seemed so pure, so clear, and so out of reach. It was like looking toward the stars with his feet chained to the ground.
As if that weren’t bad enough, seeing Alec again affected him strangely. Everything wild and crazy he’d done recently leaped into his mind when his eyes met Alec’s. But it wasn’t Alec accusing him; it was himself. It gave him a peculiar feeling that tightened his chest and made him bite his lip. He wished he hadn’t seen Alec at all.
* * *
A day or two after the encounter, Reed still hadn’t been able to shake his gloomy attitude. He trudged up the dorm stairs to his room after work. He was later getting back to the Dorms than usual, and he found the hall empty and silent. Everyone had come and gone, either down to supper or straight to the rec center. That was disappointing. He had hoped for a social evening to lift his spirits.
He shut the door to his room behind him, leaning his back against it, and ran his eyes lethargically over everything. Reagan’s computer blinked a slow blue light on the desk. Riley’s phone was charging by the window. A poster lay on the nightstand; he’d been planning to put it above his bed. None of it interested him.
What was wrong with him? He crossed the room to the window and leaned his forehead against the pane, staring out at the scene below drenched in late afternoon sun. All his old hobbies seemed dull tonight; nothing caught his interest. He straightened and shook himself. This was ridiculous. He had to stop moping. Everybody else would be at the rec center. He would go for a swim.
Kicking off his shoes, he began digging for his board shorts. Hanging around the pool never failed to perk him up. That was where Reagan spent most of his time now. He said the atmosphere and the sand volleyball made him think of the Florida beaches. Reed smiled. It was also the place where Reagan could best show off for the girls. Reed retrieved his cyan Hurley suit and pulled off his shirt, pausing to eye his muscles in the mirror over the sink.
Yeah, this’ll definitely do it.
A few minutes later, Reed clattered down the stairs with a towel flung over his shoulder. He pushed out of the dorm’s back door, his bare feet savoring the pleasant grit of the warm, dry concrete. But, as he neared the enormous complex, he began to doubt his plan. He didn’t feel the growing excitement he’d expected.
He swiped his card and pushed through the glass door into the pool area. It was a gigantic room, almost too big to be called a room at all. The lofty, bubbled ceiling arched over the huge concrete patio and Olympic-size pool. On the far side, beneath a couple of fake palm trees, a two-story pyramid of fiberglass rock formed a hissing waterfall and slide, dotted with artificial ferns and mosses. The entire right wall was glass, opening onto the sand volleyball courts outside.
The pool was full. Teenagers churned the water with their constant diving, kicking, and splashing. The “shore” was even more crowded for, as Reagan said, there was a certain “beachy” atmosphere about the place. Reed moved away from the door and deeper into the crowd, looking around him. Here he was, right in the middle of it all, and he felt no different.
This couldn’t be happening. The pool never failed to rouse and excite him. There must be something here to shake him out his melancholy. He ran his eyes over the busy area, and then, through the shifting crowd, he saw it.
On the left side of the room against the white cinderblock wall was a set of chrome bleachers overlooking the water. Reagan was sitting on the back row. He wore only a suit he often boasted of bringing from Florida—small, red, tailored. For all practical purposes, it wasn’t much of anything at all. But he didn’t seem to care; he was too caught up in his companion. A girl, known to the entire Hill for her beauty and her habit of flaunting it, lay across his lap with her arms around his neck as she leaned up to lock her lips with his. As Reed caught sight of the pair, she broke away and whispered something into Reagan’s ear, running her hands up through the back of his hair. Whatever it was, he loved it. He threw back his head and began to laugh, long and loud.
A wave of unexpected revulsion swept through Reed. The sight was nothing new for him but, this time, it was as though a veil had fallen from his eyes. He saw past the steamy surface to what was actually happening. This, right in front of him, was Reagan’s idea of happiness: quick, casual, and temporary. But it was his only idea of happiness and, in a day or two, it would be over. They would go their separate ways, looking for something new to give them their next buzz. And they would do it again and again, because they didn’t have any other way to meet this need. This was exactly what Reed had been working toward since he arrived on the Hill; it was two young people so deep into temporary pleasure that they could forget the past, ignore the future, and tune out what was happening around them.
Reed turned away from the sight, a sick feeling in his stomach, but he couldn’t escape it. Not only was it etched indelibly in his memory, but it was all around him. His eyes were opened to see the crowd as it was—scantily dressed boys and girls mixed together in an erotic setting, each doing whatever they pleased. It wasn’t just at the pool, either; that’s all the Hill was. It was a culture of teens doing whatever they wanted, trying to drown out everything else, because that’s what made them happy. Reagan wasn’t the exception; he was the norm. And this was what Reed had built his life around for months. Alec was right; it wouldn’t help him. It never had, and it never would.
Slowly, Reed made his way to the door and pushed out without looking back. He didn’t want to swim anymore. He turned his steps back toward his dorm to change. If he hadn’t known what to do before, he certainly didn’t now.