22. Carey
Carey
“What is it?” Maverick frowned and craned his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of my screen.
I jerked my hand away and took a step back. “I, um… it’s a long story. I’ll have to tell you tomorrow,” I said, averting my eyes from his penetrating gaze. My throat was closing up, making my voice come out in a croak. “I mean, uh… we should probably get inside our rooms before it’s too late, because the Game Master said there’d be further consequences if we don’t return promptly.”
“Sure,” he replied, nodding curtly. “We can talk later.”
He didn’t question why I’d refused to show him my phone screen, and I didn’t question why he didn’t question me, even though I knew he had to be desperately curious about whatever had caused such an intense visceral reaction in me.
I muttered a quick goodnight before stepping inside my room and locking the door behind me, heart pounding and hands trembling. Then I sat on my bed and turned my phone back on to get a closer look at the message I’d just received.
It was a patient profile from the school psychologist’s office at Babylon. My eyes instantly fell on the highlighted part at the bottom, as the Game Master surely intended.
Diagnostic Impression: Based on the assessment findings and clinical observations, there is very strong evidence to suggest that Maverick Reinhart meets the criteria for Antisocial Personality Disorder (ASPD) as outlined in the DSM-5.
I’d listened to enough true crime podcasts to know exactly what ASPD was—it was a personality disorder that many people informally referred to as sociopathy or psychopathy.
That meant Maverick was a diagnosed sociopath.
I reread the highlighted sentence for the third time, and then I started reading from the beginning of the document, heart jackhammering in my chest.
Patient Assessment Report
Patient Information:
Name: Maverick Jonathan Reinhart
Date of birth: September 19, 2006
Date of first assessment: March 26, 2022
Referral information: Maverick was initially referred for grief counselling after the death of his older brother. However, I continued our sessions due to concerns regarding his interpersonal relationships and patterns of behavior, including manipulation and disregard for social norms.
Background information: Maverick presented as a charming and articulate individual. He described a pattern of unstable relationships and a tendency to exploit others for personal gain. He denied feelings of remorse or guilt regarding these actions.
Clinical observations: During my sessions with Maverick, he displayed superficial charm and glibness of speech. He appeared to lack empathy and showed a clear disregard for the feelings and rights of others. He demonstrated a tendency to manipulate others to achieve his goals without any regard for the consequences of his actions.
Diagnostic Impression: Based on the assessment findings and clinical observations, there is very strong evidence to suggest that Maverick Reinhart meets the criteria for Antisocial Personality Disorder (ASPD) as outlined in the DSM-5.
Criteria Met:
1) Failure to conform with social norms with respect to lawful behaviors.
2) Deceitfulness, as indicated by patient disclosures and my own observations of conflicting narratives.
3) Reckless disregard for the safety of self or others.
4) Irritability and aggressiveness, as indicated by disclosures of repeated physical fights and assaults.
5) Consistent irresponsibility.
6) Lack of remorse, as indicated by disclosures of being indifferent to or rationalizing having hurt or mistreated others.
Recommendations: Given the severity of Maverick’s symptoms and their impact on his life (as well as the lives of others around him), it is recommended that he receive ongoing psychotherapy aimed at addressing his maladaptive behaviors and developing prosocial coping strategies. Close monitoring and potential involvement of authorities may be warranted to ensure the safety of others and prevent further harm.
Beneath the patient profile was an audio file. With one shaky finger, I pressed play. At first, nothing happened, but then there was a short beep followed by what sounded like a voicemail.
‘Dr. Prentiss, it’s Dr. Paul Barry from Babylon Preparatory Academy. I’m not sure if you recall, but we actually spoke a few years ago when I referred a student to you for psychotherapy. I have another patient for referral right now, but I… well, I probably shouldn’t be saying this on an answering machine. Probably shouldn’t be speaking about it at all, really. It’s very unprofessional of me. But let me just say… I’ve never encountered a patient like this particular young man. I think you’ll find him to be a very interesting and challenging case, if you decide to take him on. That’s all I can say for the time being, for obvious reasons. Please call back at your earliest convenience so we can discuss this further.’
I dropped the phone and slumped against the bedhead, mind whirling. After everything I’d just seen and heard, I felt incredibly stupid for blindly trusting Maverick. He’d charmed me so easily and even made me start falling for him, despite our rocky past, but that was just what sociopaths did, wasn’t it? They manipulated and tricked people into trusting them for their own personal gain.
But what did Maverick have to gain from me? Was it just sex? Or was it some sort of sick game he played with girls he hated?
No.Some deep-down part of me couldn’t stop thinking that it was all fake. Surely Maverick wasn’t really a sociopath. Surely he wasn’t capable of lying and tricking me to such an extent. It was just too hard to believe.
The document and audio file could’ve been fabricated by the Game Master to make me—and every other player here—distrust Maverick, which could then impact his ability to survive future games. After all, that was exactly what the Game Master wanted: to sow discord amongst all the players.
Yes, that had to be it. The patient profile had to be fake, and I was being a total bitch by not trusting Maverick and practically fleeing from him in the hall five minutes ago. I should’ve swallowed the fear that struck me when I saw my phone and talked to him so he could have a chance to explain.
I picked up my phone to send him a message, but when I turned the screen on, I saw that he’d already messaged me.
Hey, Carey. I didn’t argue with you out in the hall when you wanted to leave because I think I know what the Game Master sent you, and I knew it would scare the shit out of you. It was a psychological assessment, right? That’s why you freaked out so much?
Anyway, I didn’t want to scare you even more by forcing you to talk to me about it in person, so I let you go without any drama. But if it’s okay with you, I’d like to explain. Please give me that chance. I know I probably don’t deserve much of a chance after all the shit I’ve done to you over the last couple of months, but I’m hoping you can give it to me anyway.
I sat up straight, heart pounding even faster. “Oh my god,” I whispered, staring into space with wide eyes.
The patient profile wasn’t fake. How else would Maverick immediately know exactly what was sent to me? He knew that patient file was out there in the world, and he knew it would make him look bad, so it was the first thing that came to his mind when he saw the shocked expression on my face a few minutes ago.
I tentatively tapped out a reply. Okay. Explain.
He replied instantly. Can you call me? Pretty sure these phones allow that. It’s a long story so texting it all will be hard.
I took a deep breath and clicked the green telephone icon next to his name in the message folder.
He answered on the first ring. “Hey. Thanks for agreeing to talk about this,” he said. “I know you’re probably really scared right now. You might even be thinking I’m the Game Master. I totally get it.”
I swallowed hard. “Is it true? Did the school psychologist really diagnose you as a sociopath?”
“Yeah, he did. But it’s all bullshit. Really. I know that sounds like a total lie, but if we were in the outside world right now, I could prove it so fucking easily.”
“How?”
He cleared his throat. “Well, firstly, I could show you that the current Babylon Prep psychologist is a woman named Dr. Chao. She was hired after Dr. Barry was fired in disgrace, which is all on record somewhere. I could also show you the assessment done by a psychiatrist named Dr. Prentiss. She totally debunked Dr. Barry’s claims about me.”
“So… he made it up?” I asked, frowning. “Or was he just really bad at his job?”
“He made it up.”
That was a little hard to believe. I sighed and rubbed my forehead. “Why would a psychologist fabricate a diagnosis about a student?”
“Well, I started seeing him after Julian died,” Maverick said. “I was totally fucked up over it, which you already know about.”
“Yeah, it says you were referred for grief counselling.”
“That’s right. I was falling behind in my classes because I couldn’t concentrate, so my teachers recommended it. I went in for a few sessions, and it actually helped a little bit. Dr. Barry was pretty good at his job.”
“So what happened to make him accuse you of the personality disorder?”
Maverick let out a heavy sigh. “I was in his office for a session one day, and he was called out of the room by the receptionist. Some sort of issue with the patient record system on her computer, from what I remember,” he said. “Dr. Barry excused himself and said he’d be back in a couple of minutes. I decided to check a baseball score while I waited, but that part of campus is a total dead zone for my phone network. Anyway, I know this was a dumb thing to do, but it was just a game score, so I thought, fuck it, I’ll just quickly look it up on Dr. Barry’s computer. It was sitting right there on his desk, and I was pretty sure he hadn’t locked it when he left the room.”
“Did you find something on it?” I asked, eyes widening. That certainly seemed to be where this story was going.
“Yeah. Something fucked up.”
“What was it?” I asked, stomach churning with anticipation.
“When I opened up a browser, I saw that he had other tabs open already. Most of them were just normal things that I wouldn’t think twice about, but one had a weird name. I was curious, so I clicked on it, and… uhh…well, I don’t want to go into too much detail, but it made it very clear that Dr. Barry was into young girls. Not babies and very young children, but still… young. Like thirteen or fourteen, maybe.”
“Oh my god.” My stomach lurched. “That’s disgusting.”
“No shit,” Maverick replied. “All I could think about when I found it was how many young girls he was counselling every day at school. It made me feel fucking sick.”
I frowned. “So… he had that sort of stuff on his computer and left it unlocked around people? That seems stupid.”
“Yeah. Really stupid, huh? But I think he figured he’d only be out of the room for a minute. I think he also figured I wasn’t a rude asshole who’d jump straight on his computer. But I guess I am a rude asshole, and honestly, I’m fucking glad I am, because as soon as I saw that shit on his screen, I knew I had to get him off campus. I mean, like I said a second ago, this guy was working with young girls every day. I figured he could’ve been fantasizing about them, which is bad enough, or maybe even grooming some of them.”
“That’s really sick.”
“Yeah, it is. So, I stormed out of the office and told everyone in the waiting room to stop wasting their time and get the fuck out. Then I told Dr. Barry I was reporting him to the principal and cops. That turned out to be a mistake.”
“Telling him, you mean?”
“Yeah. He immediately panicked and went into self-preservation mode. He wiped everything incriminating off his computer and browser history, and then he made up a bunch of fake session notes claiming that I said and did stuff that never happened. He backdated them to make it seem like he’d written them in previous weeks, and he also called a work associate that day after hours, knowing she wouldn’t be available, just so he could leave a voicemail that implied there was something seriously wrong with me. That way, when the cops finally started to investigate the case, they could interview that associate and get her to show them this voicemail that was supposedly about me.”
“Was that Dr. Prentiss?”
“Yup. Anyway, Dr. Barry was trying to cover his tracks by making me seem like someone who’d make up shit just to hurt people, including him,” Maverick went on. “But it didn’t work. A digital forensics team went through his stuff and realized I was telling the truth. Turns out you can’t really wipe a computer, even if you try really hard.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that.”
“They were also able to check the creation dates and times on his session notes, and every single one about me was created the day I stormed out of his office. They also found his real session notes about me, which he’d tried to delete.”
“And they were about your brother?”
“Yup. Anyone who read them could see I was just a grieving guy. Not a psychopath.”
“So what happened to Dr. Barry?” I asked.
“He’s in prison. Turns out he was grooming a couple of girls on campus. His patients, who he was supposed to be helping. They admitted it to the police when they interviewed everyone he was treating.”
“God.” My stomach was still churning, and a sickly taste had filled my mouth. “That’s horrible. Those poor girls.”
“Yeah, it was fucked up. But he’s gone now.” Maverick fell silent for a moment. Then he cleared his throat and spoke up again. “Carey… do you believe me? Because I can’t prove any of this to you until we get the hell out of this place. Until then, it’s just my word against the so-called evidence that the Game Master sent you.”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I considered his words. As wild as his story sounded, I didn’t find it completely implausible or unbelievable. On top of that, Maverick had helped and supported me throughout these awful games, and he’d helped the others too. He’d never done anything that could be seen as sabotage, and he didn’t seem to have any motive to hurt me or anyone else either.
Also, the way he kissed me… he couldn’t fake the feelings in that. No one could.
“I think I…” I trailed off, words dying in my throat. Then I began again. “Yes. I believe you.”
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. “Really?”
“Yes. I’m so sorry I ran off before. I was just so shocked, and I really—”
Maverick cut me off. “You don’t have to explain or apologize. I would’ve been freaked out if I were in your shoes.”
“Well, I still feel like an asshole,” I murmured.
“Don’t. You really shouldn’t.” His voice had turned slightly gruff. “I’m just glad you believe me. I don’t deserve it after all the shit I’ve done to you.”
I smiled faintly, even though he couldn’t see me. “We decided that was all in the past, remember?”
“That’s true. But I’m always going to regret what I did to you,” Maverick replied. “And I’m always going to do everything I can to make it up to you.”
The tiny smile on my face stretched a little wider. “I know.”
“I’m going to get you out of here, Carey,” he went on. “I promise. Even if it kills me, I’m getting you out.”