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Rushing the Scout

Hannah Thurman

    The day before his sister’s wedding, Lee leaned against the refrigerator, watching his father argue with the groom-to-be and hoping this would be the fight that would wreck whole thing.
    Townsend Beacom, his sister’s fiancé, sat at their kitchen table with his arms crossed. Townsend, Meredith had told him once, was the largest guy in his fraternity. Lee had only visited Vanderbilt once, on a college tour set up by his father earlier that year, but he believed her: Townsend was as tall as he was, but two times as wide and carried himself like a linebacker in khakis. Lee hated him. Townsend was bossy and pompous but charming enough in front of his father and Meredith to make Lee look bad in comparison.
    But this time, it seemed, Townsend had gone too far.
    “I can take back the order, sir,” Townsend drawled. “But I thought everyone would enjoy some lil’ hand-held fans.”
    Lee’s father smacked the countertop. He was tall and lean with a thick mustache but no beard. “The problem isn’t the fans,” he said, “It’s that you didn’t ask me before you went ahead and ordered them.”
    “I know, sir, I know. I was wrong to do that. But when I looked at the weather report, I knew it was going to be a scorcher. I’ve been to events at the club before, and they can get pret-ty hot.”
    “Nine hundred dollars’ worth of hot?”
    Townsend hung his head, but fortunately Lee’s father did not relent.
    “If you want fans,” he said, “You can fold them yourself.”
    “Daddy,” Meredith said, putting her hands on Townsend’s shoulders. She had long red hair that she’d once taught Lee how to braid. And then slapped Henry Walters when he teased Lee on the playground for knowing how to braid hair. “Daddy, this isn’t Townsend’s fault. I was the one who said we should get fans. Don’t you want the wedding to be a success?”
    “I’m paying for it, aren’t I?”
    “Barely.”
    Lee’s father fumed.
    “Daddy,” Meredith said, “I know we have the money. Lee’s practically getting paid to go to college.”
    “And when you go back to school, I will write you a check.”
    Meredith crossed her arms. “This is about med school, isn’t it?”
    Lee’s father made a face. “This is about a thousand bucks’ worth of shitty paper fans.”
    “Yeah, right,” Meredith said.
    Lee walked out of the kitchen, disappointed. The show was over. Townsend had once again slipped away from Lee’s father’s wrath.

    Lee shut his door and looked at the time. It was a quarter until two, which was when the rehearsal was supposed to start, but he’d seen enough of Meredith and his father’s fights to know that he had a while. The two were both hot-tempered and could argue for a long time. Lee, on the other hand, did not like confrontation; in that way, his father said he took after his mother. Besides a proclivity to argue, memories of her were another thing Meredith and his father shared that he did not: Meredith had been six when she died, Lee only two. It was hard to miss someone you didn’t remember.
    He figured he had at least another half hour before they left for the rehearsal, so he sat down and logged back into the game of StarCraft he’d been playing with his friends. He’d surrendered all his armies when he’d heard the fighting and gone downstairs, so now he could only watch. The game had gone to shit: enemy forces were storming their barracks and their medivacs kept getting shot down in little orange bursts of light. When he put on his headset, he heard Brendan, Aaron, and Max all talking about a graduation party they’d gone to the weekend before.
    “I heard the keg got broken after we left,” Max said. Max had been his best friend since seventh grade; the other two guys had started hanging out with them junior year. Most nights, they played StarCraft until midnight, when Lee had to go; he was the only one who still had a bedtime. Lee thought the rule was stupid but he’d never challenged it. Arguing with his father about something like bedtime would have invited a lecture on responsibility, time management, and the type of jobs available to high-school dropouts.
    “At Becca’s place?” Lee asked. He had been stuck at a dinner with Townsend’s parents that night. He tried to act like it wasn’t a big deal but he was actually pretty pissed: he hadn’t been to a lot of parties in high school because of his curfew, and this might have been his last chance.
    “Nice of you to join us, traitor,” Max said, “We’re getting stomped.”
    “These guys are owning us,” Brendan said. He paused a second as his last barracks exploded. “But yeah, it was at Becca’s place. Now she owes her sister like $70 ‘cause Harris Teeter won’t take the keg back.”
    “Oh,” Lee said. “You have to pay a deposit?”
    “Yeah, seventy bucks,” Aaron said. “Doesn’t that suck?”
    “Uh-huh,” Lee said, watching armored aliens shoot machine guns at their airbase. It erupted with a tiny pop. “Did you guys have a good time?”
    “Max missed you,” Brendan said. “It was really sweet, actually. He cried and cried...”
    “I did not, you faggot.”
    “Actually,” Brendan said. “He cried because Amitra turned him down.”
    “I did not cry.”
    “What happened?” Lee asked.
    “Oh, it was epic,” Aaron said. “She totally shut him down.”
    “Why is this ‘pick on Max’ day?” Max whined.
    “We love you, Max,” Lee said. “Even if Amitra doesn’t.”
    “Fuck you,” Max said.
    “No, thanks,” Brendan said like he always did. Aaron laughed. The three of them—Aaron, Max, and Brendan—were going to live in a triple together next year at UGA. They had already dubbed it “The Mancave.” Lee, who was going to Emory, called it, “The Place Sex Goes to Die.” But he was secretly jealous. He didn’t know anyone going to Emory but his father would have flipped a shit if he’d followed his friends to UGA after Meredith deferred admission to medical school. It seemed unfair that his father’s expectations for his education were tied up with what Meredith did, but Lee would rather argue about his bedtime than bring that up.
    “Okay, let’s rush these guys together,” Max said. “Maybe they’ll hold off for a minute.”
    “Maybe Amrita will change her mind.”
    “Fuck you.”
    “No, thanks.”
    “C’mon,” Max said, “Let’s go!”
    Lee leaned back and watched as the map lit up. The steady sound of gunfire pounded through his speakers. For one crazy second, it looked like Max’s idea was working.
    “What now!” Brendan yelled. “What now, bitch-esss!”
    “Lee, tell me what’s going on in the airfield,” Max said. “If we lose that, we’re done.”
    Lee leaned in. “They’re holding out,” Lee said.
    “Stay on it,” Max said. “Let me know when it needs help.”
    Lee watched the airfield, happy to be asked to put his skills to use. Thirty commandos were left, but aliens were pouring in over the walls.
    “You’ve got maybe two minutes,” Lee said.
    “Okay,” Max said. “Okay, cool. Keep watching.”
    Lee’s heart sped up. Twenty-eight commandos. Twenty-four. As the gunfire got louder and louder, Lee’s door flung open.
    “Hey man,” Townsend said. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you ready to go?”
    Lee put down his headset. “Sorry,” he said, “Sorry, I thought you guys were still fighting.”
    Townsend frowned at him. “No one is fighting, bro. Turn off Star Wars and come downstairs.” He shut the door again.
    Lee looked back at the screen just in time to see the airfield go up in flames. A lone ship spiraled down out of the sky and crashed into the black ground. “Gotta go,” he said, holding the headset to his mouth.
    Max groaned. “Why didn’t you tell me the airfield was about to blow?”
    “Sorry, sorry,” Lee said. “I have to go to the rehearsal now.”
    “Sucks,” Aaron said. Lee looked at the screen one more time. Aliens swarmed over their smoking barracks.
    “Are you guys playing tonight?” Lee asked. “I’m free then.”
    “Uh, maybe,” Max said. “I have to see.”
    “Well, let me know.”
    “Okay, we will,” Max said.
    After he took off his headset, Lee could hear Aaron begin teasing Max about Amrita again. Lee wished he could join in. He was going to say something funny about Max not getting laid until aliens actually invaded and he knew everyone would laugh. But instead he turned off his computer and put on the suit jacket hanging over the back of his chair, which immediately made him start sweating.

    The tent on the lawn of Townsend’s parents’ country club was already hot. By the time he had finished his part of the rehearsal, he wanted to jump into the golf course water trap. He lay down on some folding chairs in the back, listening to Meredith’s sorority sister/bridesmaids practice their readings. There were eight of them, all with straight brown hair and tank tops in varying pastel shades. They were the types of girls Meredith had hated in high school; he had never expected her to join a sorority, but then again, he had never expected her to get married at twenty-two, either. If the wedding hadn’t been in the works for six and a half months, he’d have thought she was knocked up. . . . That was the only way he would ever justify her marrying Townsend.
    Meredith appeared over him. Her long face was flushed.
    “This is crazy,” she said. “I hope it cools down by tomorrow.” She fanned herself with a program.
    “Fat chance,” Lee said. His head hurt. “Maybe you should have planned the wedding inside.”
    “Chill out,” she said. “It’s going to be fine.”
    “Better keep an ambulance around in case someone passes out.”
    Meredith scowled. “C’mon, Lee,” she said. “Don’t be a dick.”
     “Yes Mom,” Lee said, which he knew would piss her off. It wasn’t her fault it was so hot but what did she expect, planning an outdoor wedding in Atlanta in June? He wished he were back in his air-conditioned room, talking with his friends.
    Meredith scowled at him and turned on her heel. Lee watched her walk up to Townsend and stop. He couldn’t hear what they were saying but after a few minutes, Townsend approached him. He sat up.
    “Why did you have to go and make her upset?” Townsend asked.
    Lee shrugged.
    “That’s not very considerate, you know.”
    “Yeah, okay.”
    Townsend leaned in. He smelled like sweat and cologne. “I don’t know if you get this or not, but this wedding’s a big deal for your sister. She doesn’t need more people stressing her out.”
    “I’m not retarded,” Lee said.
    “Good,” Townsend said, clapping Lee on the shoulder. “Then don’t act like it.” Lee’s stomach burned with rage. After Townsend walked away, Lee slouched down and leaned his head on the back of the chair. He stared up at the sloping ceiling of the tent until the image of the pointed roof reversed itself and seemed to pop out in his face. He refocused his eyes but the roof still seemed lower somehow, and stifling.

    After the rehearsal, Lee and his father walked across the hot parking lot, fanning themselves with programs. Lee wondered if today’s heat would help Meredith’s fan cause. Lee wished she were riding with them, even though he was mad at her. He never knew what to say to his father when it was just the two of them.
    Lee got in the passenger side and rolled down the window, waiting for the A/C to kick in.
    “This wedding’s going to be really long,” Lee finally said.
    His father nodded.
    “If I get married, I think I’ll get one of those drive-thru ones in Vegas,” Lee said, trying to make his father laugh.
    “If you get married,” his father said, “I hope you’ll have the sense to do it after graduate school.”
    “What if I don’t want to go to graduate school?”
     “You’ll want to,” his father said. “Any job that’s worth having is worth working for... which is something Meredith doesn’t seem to understand.”
    That was the other reason he wished Meredith were driving with them: all conversations came back to her, anyway. Last time the three of them were alone together, Lee’s father had stopped pestering Lee about not having a summer job to spit out statistics of how many people who took a break from college never went back. This had royally pissed off Meredith, and by the time the fight devolved into Mom would have wanted me to marry Townsend (the trump card), Lee had slipped away, unnoticed.
    “Well, she’ll probably go back next year, right?”
    “Right,” Lee’s father said in the voice that he used when he wasn’t listening. “Right.”
    Lee leaned forward and rested his hand on the A/C vent in front of him.
    “Sucks that Townsend bought all those fans,” he said.
    Lee’s father shrugged. “He apologized,” he said. “He’s not a bad guy.”
    Lee looked out the window, disappointed. He felt like he’d lost an ally.

    Meredith came into his room late that night as he was trying to convince Max to start another game. When he’d gotten back from the rehearsal, the three guys had been away, driving Aaron’s brother’s car to pick up a futon they’d bought on Craigslist. Now that they were back, Max said he was tired and Aaron and Brendan followed suit.
    “We already played like four games today,” Max said.
    “Yeah, but I only got to play one,” Lee said. “Half of one, really.”
    “That’s not our fault,” Brendan said.
    “Come on,” Lee was saying. He didn’t want to beg. “Come on, just one more.”
    Meredith came in without knocking.
    “Hey,” Lee said, taking off his headset. “I could have been doing something important.” He was sick of people barging in. It made him feel like a little kid. Meredith usually treated him like he was an adult, but when she was caught up in wedding stuff, she tended to talk down to him just like everyone else did.
    “Sorry, sorry,” she whispered. She was dressed up but barefoot, carrying a pair of tall black heels.
    “Where are you going?” He looked up at his computer. Max had sent him a message saying Hey did you leave?
    “Out, if I can use your ladder.” She was already walking towards the box under the window.
    “No, wait. Why?”
    She opened the box and began unrolling the fire escape ladder their father had bought after their mother died. She’d died in a car accident, not a fire, but Lee’s father didn’t like to take chances. He still kept all medicines, even Advil, locked in a cupboard with a padlock and resisted letting either of his children get a Facebook account until Meredith convinced him that she was much more likely to kill herself over not having one than being cyberbullied.
    Meredith said their father had been a lot different before the accident, but Lee only remembered him this way. He sometimes felt jealous that Meredith had seen that side of him.
    “Where are you going?” Lee asked again.
    “Just out with the girls.”
    “I thought Townsend hated bachelorette parties.” Townsend had brought that up at the excruciatingly long rehearsal dinner, adding that he eschewed both bachelor and bachelorette parties for their misogynistic roots. Lee had watched with disappointment when his father nodded in approval.
    Meredith grinned. “Well, I don’t,” she said. “Please don’t tell? It’s not going to be a big deal, I promise.”
    Lee shrugged. “Like this wedding isn’t a big deal.” He looked back at his screen. I think I’m going to head to bed, Max was saying. Maybe we can hang out sometime later. We’re going to the pool tomorrow but I guess you’ve got the wedding... ttyl.
    Meredith dropped the ladder out the window, but then turned around. “Wait, what’s going on?” she said. She sounded more like the Meredith he remembered from his childhood—bossy, but loyal.
    “Um.” Now that she was listening to him, it was hard to say what he felt. That he hated Townsend. And the wedding. And his father. And sometimes her. But it seemed childish to say that. He wanted her to treat him like an adult, so he didn’t say anything.
    “Is Dad giving you a hard time?” she asked.
    “A little,” he said. “Now that you’re not going to med school, I have to be the one who, you know, does stuff.”
    “Like what?”
    “Like, becomes president of IBM or something.”
    Meredith laughed. “It’s not your fault I’m quitting school. You should tell him that.”
    He shrugged. “He doesn’t listen to me like he listens to you.”
    Meredith bit her lip. “That’s true,” she said.
    Lee looked down at his hands. He hadn’t expected her to admit that. He felt close to Meredith, close enough to ask her, “Are you sure you want to get married? Like, to Townsend, right now?”
    Meredith nodded. “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my entire life.”
    “Oh,” Lee said. She seemed so eager, but it was so hard to believe anyone would like Townsend that much.
    “We really love each other, you know? It’s just one of those things where if I let him go now and moved away to Baylor, I’d regret it forever. Do you know what I’m talking about?”
    “I guess so,” Lee said, although he’d never felt so sure about anything before. “And I guess it’s good you’re getting together, then.”
    Meredith beamed. “He likes you,” she said. “He feels bad for snapping at you today. He says you remind him of himself, when he was younger.”
    But Lee did not want to be some echo of Townsend’s immature self. He said, “Okay.”
    “Look,” Meredith said. “We can talk when I get back. But I’ve got to go.”
    “Okay,” Lee said again. He held the top as she climbed down the swaying ladder and tossed down her shoes when she reached the lawn. She gave him a thumbs up before running off, barefoot.
    Lee put his headset back on. “Did Max leave?” he asked.
    “Yeah,” Brendan said.
    “Lame,” Lee said, but neither Brendan nor Aaron agreed. “Well, are we going to play or what?”
    “Sure,” Aaron said, but Lee could hear typing in the background and wondered if Aaron was paying attention. Or was he chatting privately with Brendan? It seemed like his friends were slipping away from him, but he didn’t want to say anything for fear of sounding paranoid.
    “Let’s split this one,” Brendan said. “Aaron and I will rush the scout. Lee, you stay back and tech.”
    “Why do I have to tech?” Lee asked. Fortifying the base and building armies was boring and removed him from the action of the game.
    “Brendan teched last time, and I did it the time before,” Aaron said.
    “I wasn’t there. I want to rush the scout.”
    “Look,” Brendan said, “Do you want us to play with you or not?”
    Lee didn’t say anything.
    “Lee, you’re in charge of tech,” Brendan said again, so Lee obeyed, listening to the others talk as they pushed their armies along the map. Bored, he tried to build an airstrip in the shape of a penis until Aaron ran into a pocket of Zerg enemies and needed medivacs.
    “You’re lucky I’m here to bail you out,” Lee said, sending ships to Aaron’s aid. “Have you ever rushed the scout before?”
    Brendan laughed but Aaron didn’t.
    “Maybe there’s some kind of remedial scout rushing class you can take next year,” Lee went on. “StarCraft 101.”
    “Fuck you, Lee,” Aaron said. (“No, thanks,” Brendan said) “Next year I’m going to be too busy to play games.”
    “Yeah, right,” Lee said. “Doing what?”
    Silence on Aaron’s end. “I dunno,” he said. “It seems like there will be a lot of stuff I’ll want to do.”
    Lee made a noncommittal grunt.
    “You should come visit us, though,” Brendan said.
    Aaron agreed. “That’d be great.”
    Lee hoped they were wrong. He hoped they would still play. He didn’t know what he’d do if they didn’t. He worried he wouldn’t make a lot of friends at Emory; he wasn’t like Meredith. He worried that next year he’d be surrounded by seven thousand Townsend Beacoms.
    “Yeah,” he said finally. “Okay. I’ll come visit.”
    Meredith called him at 1:45 a.m. and climbed slowly up the ladder he let down in the dark. She stumbled past him, saying thank you thank you, but she didn’t want to talk any more. That was okay, Lee thought, because if he’d talked any more, he probably would have told her about his dislike of Townsend and frustrations with the wedding in general. Meredith annoyed him sometimes, but he didn’t want to make her angry.

    The wedding was held under a bright white tent and even the last-minute addition of four hundred handheld fans didn’t make it any cooler. Lee stood behind Townsend, sweating, as Meredith said her vows. Townsend was wearing a linen jacket and didn’t seem too uncomfortable but Lee’s tux was heavy and tight. He’d bought it for band concerts before he got into college and quit trombone, and the cummerbund felt like a heating pad cinched around his waist. He wished he were at the pool with Max and the other guys. At least he hadn’t had to talk to Townsend yet.
    After he walked Meredith down the aisle, Lee’s father seemed to be in a good mood, grinning and clapping people on the back. Lee followed behind him as they walked into the reception room. The room was large, with dark paneling and a big window that looked out over the golf course. Plain, expensive-looking tablecloths fluttered under the white ceiling fans and magnolia blossoms floated in thick cut-glass bowls in the center of each table.
    Wow, his father said, putting his hands in his pockets.
    Lee thought it looked all right; the decorations were the sorts of things Meredith used to doodle on the legal pad by their telephone.
    “This really came together,” his father said, smiling a little. Lee sometimes got the feeling that his father only talked to him because there was no one else around.
    “I’m thirsty,” he said, and headed off to the table of drinks. He was about to pick up a flute of champagne when he heard someone say, hey!
    He turned around. Townsend, face red but dry, was grinning.
    “How are you doing, man?” He shook Lee’s hand hard.
    Lee shrugged. “Congratulations.”
    “Thanks. You looked hot out there. I was worried you’d melt.” He laughed.
    “I’m fine,” Lee said, annoyed. He reached for a flute of champagne.
    “Hey,” Townsend said. “Hold off on those. We’re saving them for the toasts.”
    “Can’t I have one?”
    “When we toast, yeah.”
    That seemed like a stupid rule, so Lee grabbed one of the flutes and tipped the contents of the glass into his mouth. He’d never had champagne before. It burned his nose and throat when he swallowed.
    “What’s your problem?” Townsend asked. “I told you not to drink that.”
    Lee looked around. The room was filling with people, but most were gathered around Meredith, who was bent down by one of the tables, talking to the flower girl. Lee’s father was ladling punch into a plastic cup a few yards away. Lee picked up another glass.
    “Don’t drink that,” Townsend said, smile disappearing. “I said, don’t drink it.” Lee took a step back and brought the glass up to his lips.
    “Sorry,” Lee said. “I didn’t hear you.”
    Townsend lunged for the glass, but Lee saw him coming and stepped away. Attacking from too far out was something that always tripped Max up in games. As Townsend’s fingers reached in to grab the glass, Lee smashed it into the side of Townsend’s face.
    He looked down at his hand. He was still holding the broken stem of the flute. A dribble of blood ran down Townsend’s cheek. Townsend scowled.
    “Fuck you,” he said quietly. “Fuck you.”
    “No thanks,” Lee said. He looked up. His father was headed towards him, scowling. Lee didn’t meet his eyes. He turned around and ran out of the room as fast as he could.

    The halls of the country club were gray; it was beginning to get dark outside. He paced back and forth for a minute, dress shoes clicking on the shiny tile. Then his father burst through the door.
    “What the hell was that all about?” he asked. He looked like a caricature, face red, mustache ruffled. He tried to grab Lee’s arm but Lee shrugged him off. “Why did you do that?” he asked.
    “I don’t know,” Lee said. His heart was pounding. He put his hands in his pockets. “Sorry.”
    “Sorry! Sorry? Jesus Christ, Lee...” He paced back and forth. “You hit Townsend with a champagne flute.”
    Waves of embarrassment washed over Lee. “Is he okay?” he asked.
    Lee’s father shrugged. “I don’t know. Meredith just ran to get the first-aid kit.”
    Lee swallowed. “He wouldn’t leave me alone.”
    “So you tried to fight him?”
    Lee shrugged.
    “You caused quite the scene.”
    “Is that all you care about?”
    “Of course not,” his father said. “I care that you acted like a goddamn idiot. If Townsend’s injured, you’ve ruined the whole wedding, did you think about that?”
    Lee didn’t say anything.
    “Next time, think about it.” He smoothed his mustache with a sweaty finger. “This isn’t something that happens on your computer,” he said. “This is real life, and actions have consequences.”
    “I know that.”
    His father raised an eyebrow. “Could’ve fooled me.”
    “Look,” Lee said. “Stop talking down to me. You treat me like a kid. And I’m not, not really.”
    Lee’s father paused. Lee was really worried he would say, then stop acting like one but he didn’t. Instead, he put his arms by his sides.
    “Okay,” he said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that’s how you felt.”
    Lee didn’t know what to say to that. He looked down at the floor.
    “You should probably stay out here for a while,” his father said. “So there aren’t any more disruptions.”
    Lee nodded, feeling deflated. He had thought that standing up to his father would bring on a long argument. He felt stupid for not saying before how he felt. He sat down on the floor and leaned his head against the paneled wall.
    After checking his phone for half an hour, Lee went to the bathroom to wipe the sweat off his face. He stood in front of the mirror for a while, wrinkling his nose and trying to stay angry. But his grimace just looked stupid. He felt small. When one of Meredith’s bridesmaid’s dates opened the door, he left quickly without looking up.
     When he came back into the reception hall the room was dark and everyone was dancing to the Goo Goo Dolls. Meredith’s white dress glowed in the center of the dim room. Her head rested on Townsend’s shoulder; he had a Band-Aid on his cheek. She was smiling. Lee looked around for his father, but he was off by the cake, shaking the hand of someone Lee didn’t recognize.
    As the champagne wore off, his head began to throb a little more, out of sync with the music. Lee wanted to go home. He sat down at the end of a long table and stuck his fingers in the dish of water the magnolias floated in. It didn’t help his head any but after a few minutes he began to feel cool for the first time that day.

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