Page 42 of Only If You're Lucky
“The basement.”
“This house has abasement?” I ask. “I didn’t think houses around here could have basements. The water table—”
“Yeah, too high, I know,” she says. “Less of a basement and more of a crawl space, then. You can’t even stand up in there.”
“What was he doing in our crawl space?”
“It’s stupid,” she says, finally rolling her head to look at me, the wet whites of her eyes glistening in the dark. “It’s a part of their pledgeship. All the freshmen have to spend a certain number of hours down there before they’re initiated.”
“You’re not serious,” I say, but as I think back to Halloween, it actually makes sense. I picture the blond boy first, the one in the dress, coming out to the fire before gesturing to our house like he was on his way there—then shaking his head, pursing his lips. Realizing, perhaps, who he was talking to. What he shouldn’t say. Levi next and how he looked so haunted, so scared, stuttering to find an explanation to defend his presence.
His eyes landing on the fire, finally, and then to Trevor. That sick look on his face like he had turned feral.
“You doin’ okay, man? You look a little pale.”
“What do they do?” I ask.
“Just lie there,” she says. “It’s too narrow to do anything else. I’ve seen it before. It’s literally a hole, like being buried alive.”
My mind wanders back to Levi again, that tortured expression, and I wonder how long he had been down there before he came barreling back out, running through the shed, eyes wide and full of terror. An hour, maybe two, body rigid in the dark as he listened to the sound of his own heart in his ears. His own rushing blood. The feeling of little legs crawling across his skin as he opened his eyes only to see the vast expanse of nothing staring back.
“Extra cruel to do it to a guy who claims to be claustrophobic,” she adds.
That’s why Trevor had been laughing tonight. Hearing Levi admit that, his fear of small spaces, and knowing what he was forcing him to do.
“They think it’s some big secret but Trevor told me when hewas drunk,” Lucy continues, and I think back to that night at Penny Lanes, her finger tracing its way around the rim of her cup. Her listening, the rest of us talking, spilling our secrets like she slit us right open.
I suddenly wonder how much she knows about people. I wonder what all she’s heard.
“The next morning, he made me promise not to tell anyone,” she continues. “If Rutledge found out, they’d definitely get disbanded.”
“Why would anyone agree to do that?” I ask. “It’s…”
“Degrading?” she interrupts. “Disgusting? It’s because they’re desperate.”
“Desperate,” I repeat.
“Desperate tobelong.”
She says it like a slur, like something to be ashamed of, but for the first time since I’ve known him, I can see the smallest piece of myself in Levi: so eager to be a part of something, to be accepted, that you make yourself do things that you would otherwise never do. Sucking on the wrong end of a cigarette, tobacco grit burning hot on your tongue; eating old pizza off the floor or letting a drug dissolve into your bloodstream just because someone placed it in your palm and held your hand tight. It’s no different than what I did to get here, really: agreeing to live with three strangers I knew nothing about. Blindly going along with whatever they said, whatever they did, like if I faked it hard enough, I’d be one of them.
“Trevor says itbonds them.” She laughs. “Like trauma bonding.”
“That’s fucked up,” I say.
“Yeah. It’s just a matter of time before something happens.”
I turn to her again, eyes narrowing, waiting for her to continue.
“There’s a little door on the side of the house you open to get into it, behind the azaleas, but if it closes all the way and latchesfrom the outside, you’re stuck in there. This house is not up to code,” she adds. “It’s too old.”
I hear those noises again in my mind, so distinct in the dark: a sliding door, a body scraping against something as it shimmied itself inside. A cleared throat, a dry cough. Settling in before the awful, endless waiting.
“They leave it cracked open when they’re in there, but… you know. Accidents happen. One little push and you’re trapped.”
I’m quiet, my heart beating hard in my throat. Thinking of Levi on Halloween; his bare chest, scratched and bleeding, like jagged fingernails cutting across the skin.
“Did you mean it?” Lucy asks me suddenly, twisting her neck so she’s facing me again. “What you said on Halloween? In the kitchen?”
