The Game

Sometimes it stops being casual. People develop a desire for something more. And when one person’s expectations don’t match the other person’s, then whoever holds the highest expectations suffers. There is no such thing as cheap sex. It always comes with a price.
    I had violated Ross Jeffries’s only ethical rule of seduction: Leave her better than you found her.

Steam rose from the water into the starless L.A. sky as Mystery and I sat opposite each other in the Jacuzzi. He draped one pale arm around the edge of the hot tub, and with the other took a birdlike sip from a glass that contained an orange liquid and ice cubes. It seemed like a cocktail, which was strange because Mystery never drank alcohol.
    “I gave Papa my notice,” he said. “I’m officially moving out next month.”
    He was abandoning me, just like he had during his breakdown in Toronto. Now I would be stuck living with the happy couple who had forced him out and the clone army being built in Papa’s room.
    “But you’re letting your enemies win,” I said, picking a cigarette butt out of the Jacuzzi and dropping it into an empty glass. “Just stay here and hold your ground. Katya wouldn’t dare set foot in the house if you were here. Make a stand. Don’t leave me alone with these guys.”
    “No. The anger and resentment I have is very great—great enough for me to move out so that I don’t have to see them ever again.”
    He took another small swallow from his glass. “What’s that you’re drinking, by the way?” I asked.
    “It’s a screwdriver. I think I feel a little tipsy. You know, I’ve never been drunk before. I always avoided it because I didn’t like my father. But now, with him gone, I figure it’s okay to try it.”
    “Well, dude, now is a bad time to start. You’re unstable enough as it is. You don’t need to add alcohol to the mix.”
    “I enjoy it.”
    As usual, I was wasting my breath.
    He took another sip, with a flourish this time, as if he were doing something glamorous and cool. “So Isabel stopped by here looking for you last night,” he said.
    “That’s annoying. I tried to be clear with her about Lisa.”
    He leaned forward, stirring the foam in the water with the bottom of his glass. “You haven’t even had sex with Lisa yet. So why not just have Isabel on the side? It’s a shame to lose a body like that.”
    “No way, dude. I want to do this right. I don’t want to lie in bed next to Lisa, feeling guilty for something I can’t tell her about. It will break the trust we have.”
    I leaned over the edge of the Jacuzzi and dipped my hand into the pool. It was just as warm as the hot tub. Someone had left the heat on again. Our gas bill was going to be astronomical.
    “Do you know the story of the frog and the scorpion?” Mystery asked.
    “No, but I love analogies.” I jumped into the pool and treaded water as Mystery leaned over the edge of the hot tub and recited the story.
    “One day, a scorpion stood on the side of a stream and asked a frog to carry it to the other side. ‘How do I know you won’t sting me?’ the frog asked. ‘Because if I sting you, I’ll drown,’ the scorpion said.
    “The frog thought about it and realized that the scorpion was right. So he put the scorpion on his back and started ferrying him. But midway across the stream, the scorpion plunged its stinger into the frog’s back. As they both began to drown, the frog gasped, ‘Why?’”
    “The scorpion replied, ‘Because it is my nature.’”
    Mystery took a triumphant sip of his screwdriver, then fixed his gaze on me as I floated in the pool beneath him. He spoke slowly and deliberately, like the Mystery who’d first told me to snap and shed the boring skin of Neil Strauss. “It is your nature,” he continued. “You are a pickup artist now. You are Style. You’ve bitten from the apple of knowledge. You cannot go back to the way you were before.”
    “Well, dude.” I took a couple strokes backward. “That’s very cynical talk from a guy who’s talking about marrying and having children with a girl he just met.”
    “We’re polyamorous,” he said. “As a result, we have to cheat on our girlfriends. And if that threatens our relationships, so be it.” He emptied his drink and held his temples, as if fighting off a dizzy spell. “Never underestimate the power of denial.”
    “No.” I couldn’t look at him. I wasn’t going to let him ruin this. “I don’t need any more