Bedroom Games Read Free

leave her
homeless. It had gotten to the point that I had to take her grocery
shopping simply because I didn’t trust her to take the money I gave
her and actually buy food. If it was up to her, she’d buy a
cupboard full of ramen and pocket the rest, all so she could stick
it in the nearest slot machine.
    It was stressful for me, too. My finances
were getting tighter all the time, and I’d broken up with my last
boyfriend because he had been furious that I was spending more time
trying to handle my mother than going out with him. Also? It was
really hard to be in the mood when you were sick with worry, and he
hadn’t liked that either.
    When I’d seen the
advertisement for the House Guests casting call, it had seemed like the winning
lottery ticket that my mother was always searching for. I’d sat
down with my laptop and made an audition video, vowing to lie,
scheme, and cheat my way to the top.
    I’d never expected to get a call, not really.
And yet, weeks later, here I was, fidgeting and waiting for the
okay to step out of isolation and meet the other eleven guests that
I’d be living with this summer.
    As if the show could read my
mind, a voice cut in over the soothing violin sounds in my
headphones. “ House
Guests , please take your blindfolds and
headphones off. When your booth chimes, you will be allowed to
enter the house. Once inside, there will be stools onstage marked
with your name. Please proceed to your labeled stool and
sit.”
    I pulled the headphones off, resisting the
urge to rock on my heels with anticipation. I was wearing high
heels—which I never did, because they messed up your feet and I
made a living off of my feet—and rocking backward would have been
dangerous. I pulled the headphones the rest of the way off, removed
the blindfold, and waited.
    A moment later, there was a ding in my booth,
and I opened the door.
    The isolation booths had been set up on the
porch of the creepy house, so I didn’t have far to walk to get
inside. Show staff was there to point me to the door, ushering me
inside, so I knew they weren’t filming this part. My guess was that
they’d film my grand entrance.
    I headed to the big double-doors and an
assistant put a hand in front of the door, gesturing for me to
wait. After a moment, he cocked his head, listening to his
headphones. Then, he nodded and moved aside so I could enter.
    I took a deep breath. This was my chance to
save my mom—and my sanity—in one fell swoop. All I had to do was
slither my way to the top and get the jury to vote for me.
    I put a hand on the door and stepped
forward.
    My heel caught on one of the cords stretched
across the doorway, and I stumbled into the house, nearly
face-planting. I managed to catch myself, staggering and nearly
plowing into one of the people waiting on the other side of the
door.
    Memorable entrance, yes. Graceful, not so
much.
    “You okay?” A man moved to my side as I
wobbled and tried not to fall. He put a steadying arm around my
waist.
    “House Guests! No talking until you are given
the go-ahead. Please move to your seats.”
    I looked over at the man, flashing him a
grateful smile. He was a few inches taller than me, about my age,
and he had a lean face with dark, soulful eyes. Not bad, not bad at
all. “You probably better do what they say.”
    “I will…as soon as I know you can stand
without my help.” He didn’t move.
    “It’s these shoes,” I muttered, lifting one
foot and leaning on my new friend. Sure enough, one of the spiky
heels had snapped, and now it hung on by a mere thread. I
contemplated pulling off the entire shoe, but it was stylishly
covered with buckles and straps and would take a minute to undo.
Since they were screaming for us to sit down, I did the next best
thing. I tugged the heel off, tossed it aside, and then lifted my
other foot to snap the other heel off, making myself a pair of
oddly angled flats. “At least now I can walk.”
    He chuckled and his arm left my side.