The G Game

by bluemicrocosm

-- Chapter 7 --

Oct 2, 12: 30 p.m.

Troy’s tennis courts occupy the far corner of campus. Beyond the wire fence, lush grass disappears into a grove of pine trees that mark the boundary of the school’s property. On the other side of the fence, a T-shaped road connects the courts to the two, opposing locker rooms.

Even here, the Greco-Roman designs of the main building exert their influence. The triangular pediment shines white under the sun, supported by slender Ionic columns that screen the entrance.

Often, Lediv likes to sit on the porch and gaze out from the shadows of the columns. None of the other students bother to trek down here during their precious lunch hour, leaving the place in a dreamy quietude insulated from vulgarity of teenage life. No insipid chitchat. No false smiles. No Mimi to sacrifice his ears to and risk bodily harm from.

Lediv chuckles to himself. The redhead is probably searching for him in every nook and cranny of the main campus. Even if she checks the tennis courts, she will do it from a distance and find only empty ground. She will never think to approach the boy’s locker room.

His immediate threat taken care of, Lediv leans back on his arms, envisioning the shape of the Alef onto the red clay surface of the court. His experiment on Manuel has confirmed that the instruction period is limited to the first 4 minutes and 30 seconds after the Alef is seen. Also – Lediv flips his phone open and deletes an image file, the one that he first showed Mauel – the Alef seems to retain its influence if it is expressed through a video but not through a photo. Interesting. So as long as the medium can capture a “live” viewing of the Alef, the symbol’s power will remain in tact.

He can use this knowledge to his advantage, especially since it adds another dimension to the plan that he has been refining all day.

“Thinking again?”

Lediv tilts his head in Kiros’ direction. The other boy saunters up the steps and sits next to him, sunlight falling onto his lap and streaking across a pale arm not eclipsed by the column.

“I’m always thinking,” says Lediv. “I encourage you to do the same. It’s a good habit.”

“Your encouragement was pretty obvious during economics today.” Kiros pauses, then asks the question that Lediv is reluctant to answer. “Why did you choose such a morbid scenario?”

“Would you have rathered that I chose a mundane case? Like two people deciding whether to go bowling or hiking?”

“No. I mean, why specifically a criminal and officer?” Kiros holds up his hand before Lediv can reply. “Okay, I can see how they add more thrill, since the stakes are higher and guns are involved. But why describe their relationship? It seemed a little…excessive.”

The friendship between his hypothetical characters was just – a foolishness on Lediv’s part, resulting from some asinine bone that he didn’t realize he has. Reflecting on his reasoning that time (or lack thereof), Lediv cringes in embarrassment. What was he thinking? There is no way that overdramatic Hollywood scenario can ever be possible. He is not a criminal – not really, the only person he’s killed is a scum that deserved it anyway, and if he does end up adding more names to the hit list, it’s for a greater cause, although the law still condemns him as a criminal…

Lediv halts his thoughts. No matter what he is or isn’t, Kiros certainly is not a police officer. Nor has Kiros expressed any interest in becoming one or doing anything related to criminal justice.

In short, a momentary whim and an overexcited imagination have landed Lediv on the receiving end of Kiros’ suspicious gaze.

“It was to set up the scene,” Lediv justifies. “There must be a reason for neither player to shoot if the story was to sound more credible.”

“It sounds incredible already,” says Kiros. “But why the supplementary question?”

“To help you think a step further.”

“Is that all?” Kiros looks askance. When Lediv doesn’t respond, he presses, “Your behavior was a little strange back then.”

“Really? And exactly how am I supposed to behave to be considered ‘normal’?” Lediv retorts.

Dark eyes drift away from Lediv, settling on the empty tennis courts with a gleam of deliberation, then seizes Lediv once more. Coolly, Kiros says, “Lediv Lex-lux exercises superior control over his emotions. He rarely shows his true feelings, and treats everyone with the same, aloof friendliness as a way to distance himself. His words, both in content and delivery, are calculated, as are his facial expressions and gestures. Also, he evades questions that he doesn’t want to lie about, just like he is doing now.”

Lediv sighs dramatically under Kiros unwavering gaze. “Looks like you got me figured out. There is one mistake in your profiling, though.”

“What would that be?”

“I don’t treat everyone with the ‘same, aloof friendliness’, as you put it.” Lediv stares at Kiros pointedly, feeling a smug sort of satisfaction when his friend looks away.

That doesn’t, however, deter Kiros from the subject. “You’re still evading my question.”

Lediv grits his teeth, cursing Kiros’ stubbornness. It’s not like his response will cure world hunger nor do anything remotely useful other than appease Kiros’ curiosity. “How can I answer your question if I don’t understand it? Maybe I’d have a better idea if you clarified my ‘strange behavior’ first?”

“You looked…expectant,” Kiros finishes, nodding as if to assure himself that is the correct term to use.

“I was waiting for your conclusion,” says Lediv dryly.

“No. Your words held certain understones, as if you asked if I would ever kill you instead of a simple economic case.”

“I wasn’t aware that I had poised the question that way.” Lediv shrugs, quelling the flicker of panic that sparked from his obliviousness of his own behavior. While he tends to relax around Kiros, maintaining control over his actions and reactions have come almost second nature. How can he have slipped, especially in the presence of so many people?

He can feel Kiros’ eyes boring into him, slicing through his skull with an analytical scalpel to extract the truth. When the scalpel finally retracts, an uncomfortable silence is slapped over the wound instead of a soothing balm.

Finally, Kiros asks, “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“Not hunger. Lunch will be over soon, anyway.” Lediv casts a quick glance at Kiros. “What about you?”

“Not hunger.”

Great. Now their interaction has been reduced to incomplete sentences and inane subject matter. Deciding that the tension can’t get any worse, Lediv asks slowly, “Hey…would you ever kill me?”

He isn’t sure what to feel about the unsurprised expression that Kiros meets him with.

“Are we still working under the assumptions of the game?”

“Now who’s being evasive?” Lediv mutters. “Well, we can certainly role play if that will elicit an answer from you. Dismissing the value system of the game, if I were the criminal and you were the police and a platonic relationship existed between us, would you kill me?”

Kiros rolls his eyes to the ceiling of the porch thoughtfully. “There are a lot of variables to consider. For instance, how strong is our relationship?”

“Let’s say that if one of us were to get married, the other would be the best man.”

“And what kind of crime would you have committed?”

“Murder. Several of them.” Lediv ignores the sharp look that Kiros shoots him.

“Fine. What were your intentions for these murders?”

“They deserved to die.”

Kiros’ brows reach his forehead. Almost mockingly, he says, “What gives you the right to judge?”

“I mean, if I was a crime boss, and the people I have executed are other criminals, then don’t they deserve to die?”

“In that case, you’re no exception.”

Lediv tries to keep his reaction in check. He can feel disappointment and anger rising to the surface, lurching against muscle and skin to mold them into an unflattering face of honesty. The greatest rebel to suppress, however, is the elusive hurt that seems to spread through him, every infected area aching with a strange, pervasive numbness.

Restraining his emotions, Lediv says, “I see.”

Kiros suddenly grabs Lediv’s arm, as if realizing the extent of damage that the situation is capable of disintegrating into.

“Wait, I didn’t mean…” He stops. Bites his lower lip.

“You did mean it.” Lediv shakes the hand off and starts to stand up.

Kiros quickly follows him. “Okay, so I did mean it. But why are you so affected by a hypothetical situation? You’re not a criminal, let alone a crime boss. If you asked whether I would kill you in real life, if I would kill the Lediv Lex-lux that I’ve come to know, then of course not!” He drops his voice, each word uttered with rare intensity: “I would never deliberately hurt my friends, Lediv. And you know how many of those I have.”

That is as close to a confession from Kiros that Lediv is going to get. He should feel special, and he does, but not enough to stop the hurt that runs too deep in his blood and circulates perpetually through his body.

Flashing a half-smile, Lediv says, “You’re right. It’s ridiculous to argue over unrealistic events.” At the unappeased worry creasing Kiros’ face, Lediv gives him a light push forward. “Come on. We’re going to be late for class if we dawdle over inane ideas any further.”

Author's Note: Yes, I know - this is a much shorter chapter compared to previous ones. It has been a hectic week, and I was tempted not to post today. At least having something here is better than nothing, right? (laughs awkwardly) Sorry, this is just my lame excuse -_-

On a brighter note, I will attempt to update every Friday, as I have been doing since the beginning of this story. I would love to hear your thoughts on the plot, or on the characters, or on my writing in general. Thank you!