The Zero Game

“Humble?” he asks, making a face. “I hate humble. And I hate humble even more on you.”

Glancing down between my knees, I see my reflection in the marble floor. “Yeah, well… sometimes it’s not as bad as you think.”

He says something else, but I’m not listening. Sunk down, I take another look at the closed doors. After everything I’ve been through, this is the one thing I care about right now.

Forty minutes later, I can feel the thump of my heartbeat pumping down the length of my arm. But when the doors to the reading room open, every ounce of pain is gone… and an entirely new one takes its place.

Viv walks out of the room with two bandages over her eyebrow. Her bottom lip is cut and swollen, and she’s holding a baby blue ice pack to her other eye.

I climb to my feet and try to make contact, but a double-breasted suit quickly steps between us.

“Why don’t you leave her alone for a bit,” her lawyer says, putting his palm against my chest. He’s a tall African-American man with a bushy caterpillar mustache. When we were first taken in, I told Viv she could use Dan, but her parents quickly brought in their own attorney. I don’t blame them. Since then, the FBI and the lawyer have made sure Viv and I haven’t seen, heard, or spoken to each other. I don’t blame them for that either. It’s a smart move. Distance your client. I’ve never met this lawyer before, but from the suit alone, I can tell he’ll get the job done. And while I’m not sure how Viv’s family can afford him, considering all the press this’ll get, I don’t think he’s worried. “Did you hear what I said, son? She’s had a long night.”

“I want to talk to her,” I say.

“Why? So you can mess her life up even more than you have already?”

“She’s my friend,” I insist.

“Mr. Thornell, it’s okay,” Viv says, nudging him aside. “I can… I’ll be fine.”

Checking to be sure, Thornell decides to take her cue. He steps about two feet away. Viv gives him another look, and he heads back to the display cases, where Dan and the other FBI agent are. For now, we’ve got the corner of the gilded hallway all to ourselves.

I look over at Viv, but she avoids my gaze, dropping her eyes to the floor. It’s been eight hours since we’ve last spoken. I’ve spent the past three trying to figure out exactly what I wanted to say. I don’t remember a single word.

“How’s your eye?” “How’s your arm?” we both ask simultaneously.

“I’ll live,” we both reply.

It’s enough to get a small smile out of Viv, but she quickly pulls it down. I’m still the one who got her in this mess. Whatever she’s feeling, it’s clearly taking a toll.

“Y’know, you didn’t have to do what you did in there,” she finally says.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m not a moron, Harris – they told me what you said…”

“Viv, I never-”

“You want me to quote ’em? That you forced me into this… that when Matthew died, you threatened me into helping you… that you said you’d ‘break my face’ if I didn’t get on the private jet and tell everyone I was your intern. How could you say that?”

“You’re taking it out of context-”

“Harris, they showed me the statement you wrote!”

I turn to the classical murals on the wall, unable to face her. There are four murals, each one with a woman soldier in ancient armor, representing a different stage in a nation’s development: Adventure, Discovery, Conquest, and Civilization. They should have another one labeled Regret. My answer’s a whisper. “I didn’t want you to follow the ship down.”

“What?”

“You know how these things go – who cares if we saved the day? I made bets on legislation… misappropriated a corporate jet… and arguably contributed to the death of my best friend… Even if you were there for the very best reasons – and believe me, you were the only innocent in the whole crowd – they’ll take your head off just because you were standing next to me. Assassination by association.”

“So you just twist the truth and take the fall for everything?”

“Believe me, Viv – after what I sucked you into, I deserve far worse than that.”

“Don’t be such a martyr.”

“Then don’t be so naive,” I shoot back. “The moment they think you were acting on your own is the exact same moment they put you on the catapult and fire you.”

“So?”

“Whatta you mean, So?”

“I mean, So? So what if I lose my job? Big whoop. It’s not like they gave me the scarlet letter. I’m a seventeen-year-old page who lost her internship. I wouldn’t quite consider it the end of my professional career. Besides, there are more important things than a stupid job – like family. And friends.”

Staring me down with one eye, she holds the ice pack to the other.

“I agree,” I tell her. “I just… I just didn’t want them to fire you.”

“I appreciate that.”

“So what happened in there?” I ask.

“They fired me,” she says nonchalantly.

“What? How could they-?”