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“Holden, truth or dare?”
Pencey prep was an awful school. Full of phonies, crooks, and false promises. Any idiot could see that, I think.
But that night? It wasn't so bad.
Ackley, Stradlater, and I– somehow, the only time I managed to get them in the same room– were sitting around, playing stupid party games and laughing. We had a bunch of snacks, some alcohol (thanks to Stradlater), and we'd been up all night– it was about 2am on a Saturday night. Or a Sunday morning, if you have to get technical. Technical people get on my goddamn nerves.
“I don't trust you,” I told Ackley. He was the one asking me.
“Come on, Caulfield. Just pick one.”
“Fine… Dare.”
Ackley smirked, like the goddamn villains in the movies. I hate the movies, don't even get me started on them. “I dare you to hug everyone you talk to for the next 24 hours.”
At the moment, the movies weren't the only thing I happened to hate.
“Come on, Ackley Kid! That's not far,” I argued with him. “You know I'll hate that.”
“I know you will,” he smirked. “That's why I picked it.”
“Wait, does that count us?” Stradlater asked.
“Yeah, I guess it does,” Ackley shrugged. “Come on, Holden.”
I didn't want to do it. Having Ackley near you was bad enough, I didn't want to hug him. But I didn't feel like listening to them yelling at me, so I just rolled my eyes and did it.
Hugging Ackley was awful. It felt too warm, and he hugged too tight, and it smelled awful. I'm sure you can imagine the smell. I can still remember it. I hated getting hugged, so I know my body tensed up a bit. It probably wasn't too nice a hug for him, either, which kind of cheered me up.
Once I pulled back, he laughed a bit and grabbed the alcohol from the floor. “Damn, Caulfield, are you scared of hugs or something?”
“No! I just don't like them,” I argued.
“My turn,” Stradlater smirked, saying it in that sing-songy voice. I hate when people use that voice, it's just annoying as hell. But I couldn't exactly say no, so I just gave him his goddamn hug.
Hugging him was a bit better. It felt like hugging a CPR dummy or something, he was so… I don't know the word for it. Sort of solid and stiff. But it wasn't too warm or too cold, and he hugged me the right amount, and I'll admit– I still hated it, but I wasn't too crazy about pulling away, either. I stayed in the hug for a good few seconds longer than any normal person should have. I still let go quick as hell, and my first thought was washing my hands to get him off of me, but it wasn’t awful or anything. I wouldn’t do it again, but anything was better than Ackley.
“The next day is going to be hell, isn't it?” I grumbled when I pulled away. My roommate and neighbor were one thing, maybe. But I hated hugs, and I was about to have to hug a bunch of teachers, and strangers, and I knew I was going to get real tired of it after a few hours.
I hated hugs. Really, I did.
They were just… awkward. And if you don't know the person too well, it's just worse. I've only met a handful of people I actually don't mind hugging, and most of them, I'll probably never even see again. Not that I was mad with the urge to hug them, or anything. I could live without it.
I didn't sleep all that much for the rest of the night. For one thing, we'd already been up so late that I couldn't make myself feel tired anymore. That, and I was too busy coming up with a plan for the next day to sleep. I figured that if I just never talked to anyone, maybe I could get out of the dare. After all, I only had to hug everyone I talked to, right? I'd just go the entire day without talking to anyone until my family came to visit.
Oh, right– I forgot to mention it, but my family was coming to visit and take me home, on account of Thanksgiving week being the next week, and we had that off of school. DB was even coming home to visit for it. They were coming that evening for dinner, and then I was going home with them, so I figured that I could probably make it until evening being silent. I knew it wasn't going to be fun– I hate not being able to talk. What's the goddamn point in having something to say if you can never say it? There isn't one. But I hated hugs more.
I wish I could say I managed to shut my mouth for the entire day. I really did. But after getting about one hour of sleep and waking up Sunday morning, I forgot the plan completely for a few minutes.
“Morning,” I said to the two of them without thinking. Ackley was still on the floor– I think he passed out there or something.
They both looked at each other and gave me this stupid smirk, like they were trying not to laugh. It made my goddamn blood boil, it really did. They knew they were torturing me, and they were having fun. Real sadist-like.
I looked at them and I remembered the dare, and the plan, and what I had to do now that I just talked to them, and I shook my head. Nothing like that to wake a guy up– I wasn't even tired anymore, I was just panicking a little. I know it sounds stupid to panic over a hug, but if you were me, you'd understand.
“Holden…”
“No– hey, that can't– there's no way that counts!” I stammered. “I already gave you both a hug!”
“We never said it was limited to one per person,” Stradlater laughed.
“I hate you both,” I grumbled as I got up to hug them. I pulled away real fast after both of them– I wasn't about to actually hug either of them, especially not for a second time. “Anyone would think you're both flits, begging me for hugs…”
“Yeah, just wait and see what everyone thinks of you, after you hug half the school,” Ackley scoffed. He got on my goddamn nerves, I'm telling you.
“You both suck,” I sighed, getting up so I could get ready. I grabbed my clothes– I only had one outfit out, on account of I already packed the rest of my clothes to take them home– and started to walk away, but Stradlater grabbed my arm.
“You just talked to us again,” he smiled.
“That doesn't count!”
“We're getting a lot of hugs today,” Ackley said smugly.
“Go to hell,” I told them, leaving to get dressed.
After I got ready, I decided to go get breakfast. We had no classes that day, because it was Sunday and all, which I counted myself real lucky for. I might have thrown myself out a goddamn window if I had to hug all my teachers, because I couldn't not talk to them.
Just as I was thinking about my teachers though, because I'm real unlucky, I bumped into Old Mr. Spencer and we both fell.
“Oh, Holden– I'm sorry, boy…” He apologized real quick and all, trying to get up. But he's old as hell and he couldn't, so I had to help him.
“No, it's my fault,” I said, although I was kind of out of breath. Falling knocked the wind out of me– I had almost no wind to begin with– and I was trying to remember how to breathe again. I pulled him up and I handed him back his books, and he fixed his glasses.
“Was your head somewhere else today, boy?”
“No, sir,” I lied. It kind of was, with me thinking about the dare and all, but I didn't want to explain it to him. I'm a terrific liar, really. So he believed me right away. “I was just up late last night, that's all.”
“You kids and your parties…” he grumbled, the way all old people do.
That's when I remembered the dare again. It made me want to throw up, kind of– I didn't want to hug Old Spencer, of all people. I'd rather hug Ackley again, and I told you how awful that was. I considered just not doing it, but then I looked over, and I saw that Stradlater had followed me outside. He was a few feet away, trying not to laugh. That phony bastard.
“I know, sir. I'm sorry,” I told him, trying to sound all sorry-like. I hugged him, too, because I knew I would never hear the end of it if I didn't. I held my breath the entire time– Old Spencer teaches ancient history, and I swear, he smells like he was there for most of the stuff he talks about. I just pulled away real fast after that and tried to act like nothing happened.
He looked surprised. “Is that still you in there, Holden, or have you been replaced by someone respectful?”
“Still me, sir. I was just sorry, that's it,” I told him, already feeling real sorry that I'd ever played that stupid game with Stradlater and Ackley. “Have a good day, sir,” I told him, and I practically ran away.
“You too, boy!” He called after me.
I wanted to bash my head into a wall.
I went into town to get breakfast– at least, that was the plan. I actually just bought a black coffee, a scone, and a box of cigarettes, by writing down what I wanted and pretending to be mute, and all. It worked, too. The guy working at the counter looked real sorry for me. I told you, I'm a terrific liar.
I sat down on a bench to eat my breakfast, trying not to think about Old Spencer, because that would have been a real good way to lose my breakfast. I checked the time on my watch, and it was only 9:00 am. Only 9:00 and I'd already hugged three goddamn people, counting Stradlater and Ackley.
Speak of the devil, Stradlater walked right up to me, holding some fancy pastry he bought himself, acting like it was just some normal day.
“Hey, Caulfield,” he smirked that stupid smirk again, and I died a little inside.
I knew better than to actually answer him, so I flipped him off, because that communicated enough of what I would have told him anyway.
“Still mad about Spencer, then?” He asked.
I nodded.
“You know you'll have to talk eventually, right? You can't just go all day pretending to be mute. The teachers and other kids here all know you can talk,” he told me.
“I'll pretend I lost my voice, then. For chrissake,” I snapped. I didn't realize what I did until after I'd already said it, and Stradlater bursted out laughing like it was the funniest goddamn thing in the whole world.
“See, Holden? What'd I tell you?!” He laughed. “You couldn't keep your mouth shut if your life depended on it!”
“Shut up!” I yelled back, but there was no real heart in it. I was just tired of his stupid voice at that point.
“Well, you know what you have to do,” he smiled.
I rolled my eyes and begrudgingly gave him his stupid hug, then pulled back.
“I hate you.”
“Ackley could've made it so much worse for you,” he shrugged. “It could have been everyone you see.”
“Don't give him ideas,” I sighed. I offered him a cigarette, just to be nice, and he took it.
“I won't, don't worry.” He took the cigarette and I lit it for him, and we both sat there kind of silently smoking for a minute.
“So,” he asked me, “are you excited for tonight?”
“To see my family, you mean?” I asked. He nodded. “I haven't really thought about it.”
“You've always been so touchy about your family,” he remarked. “What, are they awful or something?”
“No!” I defended myself. “It's just complicated, that's all.”
“Well, have fun with complicated, because you're hugging all of them,” he shrugged.
Crap.
I hadn't thought about that, either. I was fine with hugging Phoebe and DB, obviously. And I could live with hugging my mother. But I hadn't given my father a hug since I was three, and I wasn't too keen on it.
“Don't make me think about that,” I sighed. “Just let me focus on surviving the rest of today, first.”
“Good luck, soldier,” he joked, finishing his cigarette and standing up. “I'll make sure you stick to your mission.”
“Have I mentioned yet that I hate you?” I asked.
“Eh… once or twice.”
I made it a good hour or so without hugging anyone else, because I just sat under one of the trees in the courtyard reading my book. I was reading The Great Gatsby again– I'd already read it about a million goddamn times, but I didn't feel like getting a new book from the library, on account of I'd have to talk to the librarian.
I was doing so amazing until my English teacher walked up to me, all cheerful-like and holding a book.
“Holden? How lovely to see you! You like reading out here, too?”
I was dying a bit inside. It didn't even take more than a second to remember the dare– every second of my day felt like walking on ice, and dread had already settled in me the moment I saw him walking over.
“Yes, sir… sometimes,” I told him. His name was Mr. Beele, and he was mad about reading. You'd think he was born with a set of American classics in hand or something. “Not too often… I'm just killing time.”
“You've got The Great Gatsby!” He smiled. “You know, I just love Fitzgerald's writing.”
“That's great, sir,” I nodded, already starting to get up. I liked reading, sort of, but I wasn't about to spend hours talking about it with him.
“It makes me so happy that you're taking initiative to read the classics outside of class time, Holden!”
“That's wonderful and all, really, it is,” I told him, standing up and preparing to get the hell out of there. “But I have to go–”
“No, no, don't let me stop you from reading! I'm sorry,” he apologized.
“It's fine, really,” I said. “I… I really love the book. I just have to finish packing.”
“Well, I'd love to discuss it with you when you get back,” he offered.
“Yes, I'd like that. Thank you, sir,” I thanked him, really quickly giving him a hug and leaving right after. I didn't even give him a second to respond, I just ran.
After I'd made a mental note not to go back to the courtyard for the rest of the day, I ran all the way back to my room. By the time I got there I was practically dying, my chest hurt like hell. So I just collapsed on the bed, breathing like some dying old man having a heart attack. Ackley, who was already in there going through the stuff I left out, smirked.
“How many people have you hugged so far today?”
I held up four fingers.
“Damn, you're better at shutting up than I thought you'd be,” he scoffed.
I nodded. Stradlater walked in, doing much better than I was. He was much better at running, and I knew he was still following me. I was surprised he never caught up to me while I was sprinting up to my room.
“What's wrong with him?” Ackley asked.
“He's pretending to be mute so that he won't have to hug anyone else,” Stradlater explained.
“Well, he clearly messed up at least four times,” Ackley shrugged. “I'm sure he'll mess up again.”
“Oh, no doubt,” Stradlater nodded. “He can't keep his mouth shut to save his life. Right, Holden?”
“Oh, fuck you both…” I sighed.
“As I said, it looks like we're getting a lot of hugs today,” Ackley remarked. He opened his arms, but I just laid there, still trying to catch my breath. “Holden, you have to–”
“Can you give me a goddamn second to stop dying first? God…”
After my chest stopped burning like someone stabbed it, I got up and gave them both a hug. Again. I didn't even bother to hide how annoyed I was, and I pulled away after basically just a second.
“What, do you think we're going to bite you or something?” Ackley laughed.
“No, I'm just tired as hell of giving you hugs,” I told him. “Tomorrow morning will be the happiest morning of my life, I swear to god.”
“You'd think he doesn't like hugs,” Stradlater rolled his eyes. “Lighten up, Holden. It's not the worst thing in the world.”
“Shut up, both of you,” I snapped. I rolled over to face away from them. “Am I allowed to just sleep until tonight?”
“Nope,” Ackley told me. “Where's the fun in that?”
“There's no fun in this for me either way!” I argued.
“Yeah, but there's fun in it for us,” Stradlater explained. “Now get up, we're going to get lunch. You're coming.”
“Great,” I sighed, standing up. “Exactly what I need right now. To talk to even more people.”
“Exactly,” Stradlater smirked, walking out the door before I could argue.
“I hate you.”
“We know,” Ackley shrugged.
On the way down the stairs, we ran into Mr. Thurmer, and I had to hug him, too– apparently he was coming upstairs to check in with students and make sure everyone was ready to leave that evening. I was getting real depressed by that point, so I hardly wanted to go to lunch, but I didn't have a choice.
We walked all the way to the diner they'd decided to drag me to for lunch, and we sat down. I'd long since decided that I wasn't eating anything– if I wasn't eating, I wouldn't have to order, and if I didn't have to order then I wouldn't have to talk. But I guess Stradlater knew I'd try that, because right after they both ordered, he turned to me.
“Aren't you going to eat anything, Holden?”
I shook my head.
“Why not?”
I knew damn well he was just trying to get me to talk, so I just shook my head again.
“Is everything alright?” the server asked politely. I could tell he was confused, and he was trying to be nosy without making it obvious.
I nodded, and he walked away.
“You really are committed to this, huh?” Ackley asked. “Would hugging the waiter really have been so bad?”
I nodded again, turning away from him and crossing my arms.
“He's not going to talk until we make him,” Stradlater remarked, shaking his head like a disappointed parent.
“Well, at least he can't yell at me for stealing that weird baseball mitt he keeps under his bed.”
I turned to Ackley with just about the look of a rabid dog. I was real angry– you should have seen me. I'm never that angry at anything.
“YOU WHAT?!”
“There– I made him talk,” Ackley announced.
“Never do that again!” I snapped at him.
“After today, I won't need to.” He shrugged, opening his arms.
“Have I mentioned yet that I really hate you both?” I sighed, very begrudgingly giving him a hug. I was getting real damn tired of giving them hugs over and over.
“Maybe just a few times.”
“Definetley not enough…” I mumbled.
“Well, you're in luck. Only…” Stradlater checked his watch. “...Four and a half hours until you're rid of us for a week.”
“It can't come soon enough, trust me.” I rolled my eyes. “Can you please talk to the waiter for me? Just this once?”
“Fine… just because we love you or whatever,” Stradlater laughed.
He called the waiter over in that entitled way some people do, and he got me a coke– I wanted to thank him, but I knew that would probably count, and I really didn't feel like giving anyone another hug. Even him. Hell, I'd be happy to never get another goddamn hug ever again. I was getting real tired of them.
After we left the diner l, we walked back to campus, and I had to hug two random women. They complimented my jacket, and I said thank you without thinking. I really wasn't good at keeping my mouth shut– Stradlater and Ackley had a point there. But I'd rather die than actually tell them that.
We wasted time for a while just by playing card games. I had to give them each a hug at the start for talking to them, but they gave me a pass for the rest of the game, which I was thankful for and all. I'll admit, I almost didn't mind hugging them at that point, but I still didn't want to or anything. People always assume that if you don't hate something, you love it– it drives me mad. I didn't hate it by then, at least not as much as I thought I would. But I didn't love it, either.
By the time we were finished playing, it was almost time for dinner. We all got dressed up to see our families and all, and we went down to the dining hall. I had to hug them both one last time– I still pulled away the moment they let me, even though I'd hugged them just about a million times each at that point. I hadn't let a single hug last that day. Why would I? It wasn't like I enjoyed them or anything. They put me up to it because they knew I would hate it, and that was that.
When my family finally got there, they didn't all come in at once. DB had stayed back to help Phoebe out of the car, and my parents came in before them.
My father didn't greet me. As usual.
My Mother seemed happy enough to see me, though. “Holden! How have you been?”
She'd know how I'd been if she ever wrote, but I didn't hold it against her. I just told her anyway. “I've been fine.”
I gave her a hug, since I had to– I still wasn't mad about staying in it or anything. I didn't pull away seconds later, but I didn't stay too long either. She looked real emotional afterwards. I guess I didn't hug her all that often, and she was just in shock that I did it.
“That's great, honey,” she smiled.
“HOLDEN!”
I barely got a chance to look up before I was practically attacked by Phoebe– I told you, she's really affectionate for a child. I didn't say anything, I just hugged her.
I hugged her, and I wouldn't let go.
I stayed there for a good few minutes, just silently hugging her. I didn't technically have to, since I never spoke to her, but I did it anyway. I don't know why I do things sometimes.
Eventually, she had to wrench herself out of my arms– I hadn't realized how tightly I was hugging her. “How is school?”
“It's alright,” I told her. It wasn't, obviously, since that school was practically hell on Earth, but you never tell someone that school is bad when they ask how it is. They're usually just asking as a courtesy, and they don't actually care. I'm sure Phoebe cared, probably. But I still wasn't about to tell her.
“Your grades aren't quite alright…” my father mumbled.
“I'll try to get them up. Really, I will,” I promised him. Of course, we both know that didn't happen– I was lying. I told you, I'm a terrific liar.
DB came in after that, and I gave him a hug, too. Then he started telling me about work, and how he was working on some new big project, and I pretended to be interested. He was better before he became a lousy prostitute, I'm telling you.
After all the families got there and we started dinner and all, Stradlater pulled me aside.
“You know, you didn't have to hug them. You didn't talk to either of them first.”
“I know,” I told him. I was looking at Old Phoebe the whole time– I know it's stupid, but I never really noticed how much she looked like Allie. Same freckles, same eyes, same color hair… when she cut it short, I swear, she could be his twin or something.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah… I just wanted to.”