Beard With Me: Winston Brothers

by Penny Reid

  Cletus had just spent the last twenty minutes laying everything out, how Carla had informed on Prince King and the other Wraith kids, got them expelled; how it had taken until just this afternoon for the Wraiths to figure out it was her; how Cletus had snuck her out of school and used Scarlet’s trail through the woods to escape; how Cletus planned to send Carla to a niece of Mrs. MacIntyre’s in California where she’d live and go to school. Carla would go by bus, on her own. He just needed the $500 for the ticket and her food, which brought us to the party tonight.

  The party.

  “You don’t think Momma is going to notice you staying out all night?”

  My brother scratched his jaw. “Momma is gone to Knoxville tonight with Roscoe and Ash, remember? Ashley has that Girl Scout indoor camping thing and they’re not due to return until tomorrow afternoon.”

  Dammit. I’d forgotten about that.

  “What if the cops are called?”

  “To the Weller lake house?” Cletus made a face. “No way. That place ain’t near nothing, no close neighbors on either side. We’ll keep the doors closed facing Bandit Lake so the music doesn’t echo over the water. I told everyone to park at the Cabot house, the one with the huge driveway, enough for thirty cars at least, if, uh, this guy I know parks the cars. And it’s been vacant since that lady—Christine something—died a few years back.”

  “And you’re charging admission?”

  “That’s right. I got the wristbands, blue for drinks, white for designated drivers.”

  I glared at Cletus. He glared back.

  “I can’t let you do this.”

  “It’s not your decision, Billy,” he said firmly, and his words had me glancing at Scarlet.

  She sat on the big tree trunk, almost in the same spot where I’d been sitting yesterday while we sang together. Her arms crossed. Her expression vacant. Her eyes on me.

  It’s not your decision.

  I returned my attention to Cletus. “It is my decision, and you’re not doing it.”

  “With all due respect, it’s already happening,” he said, sounding sorry but not sorry. “You got a football game in less than a half hour. If you don’t leave now, you’ll be late and tonight’s the qualifying game for the playoffs. How do you think your team will feel if you don’t show up?”

  I loved my brother, I did. But he was a master emotional blackmailer and he knew just the right strings to pull. And so, even though I loved him, I also hated him a little sometimes. Like now.

  “I’ll call it in to the Sherriff’s department when I get to school, before I suit up for the game.”

  “Go ahead.” He shrugged. “I got that covered too.”

  “I’ll call the Sherriff directly, then.” I pushed away from the tree, stalking toward my brother.

  He stuffed his hands in his overall pockets and stood straighter. “The Sherriff is on vacation. Good luck reaching him in the Bahamas.”

  I grit my teeth, frustrated. SO FRUSTRATED.

  “Cletus—”

  “Let him do it.” Scarlet stood, her arms still wrapped tightly around her middle. “Just let him do it, Billy. Everyone at school already knows. People will show up no matter what and this way he pays for Carla’s ticket to California. She needs to get out of here. You know she does.”

  I lifted my chin, not yet ready to concede defeat. “I’ll pull the money from my savings.”

  “No.” Scarlet shook her head, walking slowly toward me. “No, you won’t. There’s no time. Banks are closed ’til Monday and she needs to leave tomorrow. If they find her, no one will ever see her again.”

  Carla made a sound, drawing my eyes to her form. She’d tucked her face against her knees. She was crying.

  I huffed a laugh with no humor, and turned away from her. “This is so fucked up.”

  How had we gotten here? How had this happened? Why hadn’t I been able to stop this? Protect Cletus? Protect Scarlet?

  “Just . . .” Scarlet’s voice was behind me, and a moment later I felt her hand on my left shoulder. “Just surrender, Billy. You can’t control everything. Sometimes you have to surrender.”

  Breathing hard, my mind spinning, I shook my head. I just needed to think. There had to be something I could do. Something I was missing.

  “Carla will be safe.” I sensed Scarlet’s hesitation right before she pressed her front to my back, wrapping her arms around my waist and laying her cheek on my shoulder. “Just let Cletus do this,” she whispered, her voice pleading. “If anyone can pull it off, it’s him. And then Carla will be gone, and the Wraiths will stop looking for her. She’ll be out of their reach and everything will go back to normal.”

  And then we can be together, just like before.

  She didn’t have to say it. I heard her intentions loud and clear. Except, I couldn’t live with myself knowing she was here, within the reach of her father, just so she could also be with me.

  “Please,” she whispered, squeezing me. “Please. Do it for me. Do it for us. Nothing has to change.”

  Gathering as much air as I could into my lungs, I closed my eyes. They hurt. Everything hurt. I was so angry, at Cletus for keeping secrets, at Scarlet for letting her father cut on her. It was just like my mother all over again, except this time there was no way to save Scarlet because she was so damn stubborn and—

  Do it for me.

  My eyes popped open, the chaotic fury narrowing, focusing, an idea forming. A bargain.

  Keep her safe, that’s all that matters.

  Swallowing thickly, I peeled her arms away from my body. I turned. I faced her. I crossed my arms. There was no way I’d be able to touch her and do this.

  “Fine.” I nodded, shifting my glare to Cletus. “You can have your party. I won’t interfere, if . . .”

  Cletus’s eyebrows rose slowly. “If?”

  I returned my attention to Scarlet, swallowing again, knowing there’d be no way to take the words back after I said them. But I had to do it. She wouldn’t save herself, so it was up to me.

  “If Scarlet goes with Carla to California.”

  She recoiled, blinking like I’d slapped her and stumbling back a step. “What?”

  “If you go with Carla, tonight, to California, then I’ll let Cletus have his party. He can raise the money. But you’re both going. Tomorrow.”

  I was going to be sick.

  Three minutes left in the game and we’d just scored another touchdown. The other team was good, but we were better. I’d played well. We’d be going to the playoffs. My teammates were congratulating each other, and my coach was telling them not to put the cart before the horse. This didn’t stop them from congratulating each other, they just did it quieter, out of earshot now.

  “You going to the party, Billy? After?” Charles Boone hit me in the shoulder, all smiles as he removed his helmet. Sweat dripped from his temples and he had a bruise forming under his left eye where he’d been elbowed through his helmet, a shadowy black circle discoloring his dark brown skin.

  I shook my head, taking off my helmet and unscrewing the top of the Gatorade bottle I’d just been handed.

  “Really?”

  “Really.” I took a drink and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

  “That’s strange. I heard you were gunna be in charge of the spin the bottle station.” He laughed, hitting me in the shoulder again.

  I scowled at the bottle cap in my hands, the walls in my mind keeping everything in check—keeping me focused, keeping me from thinking about how, after tonight, I might never see Scarlet again—were crumbling. Once she left, she would never be able to come back to Green Valley. Ever.

  My self-control was crumbling.

  What am I doing here?

  I glanced at the scoreboard and the clock beneath it. Two minutes and seven seconds remained. We were running out of time. I needed to talk to her. Just because she’d be in California didn’t mean we had to stop knowing each other. But if she left on a bus tomorrow before we had a chance
to talk things through—I need to leave.

  She’d been furious with me after I’d given my ultimatum. She’d refused to look at me, speak to me, acknowledge my existence. She’d run off into the woods and I would’ve chased her, but Cletus stood in the way. By the time I got around him, it was too late. I couldn’t follow her. I’d get lost trying to find her.

  And she probably won’t sing for me anymore.

  I closed my eyes.

  “You okay, man?” Charles had dropped his voice, probably so no one else would overhear.

  I nodded, taking another drink from the bottle, working to repair the walls and keep it all going, keep myself in check.

  The buzzer went off, marking the end of the quarter and the game. People cheered. My teammates knocked me around, hitting me on the back and stomach and shoulders, rubbing my head and screaming in my face excitedly.

  I stood, extracting myself from the moment I wasn’t really part of and grabbed my helmet. I walked across the field, leading the end of game tradition of telling the other team, Good game, and then I walked off the field for the locker rooms. None of this mattered. I had to find her. I had to convince her to go and I couldn’t let her leave angry.

  Don’t let her leave at all.

  Grimacing at the selfish thought, I shook my head. She had to go and now was her chance. If Razor didn’t cut her the next time she went to the Dragon, he’d cut her again. I’d rather her safe, far from her father, even if it meant she’d never talk to me again.

  “Billy!”

  I turned, my heart pushing against my sternum at the sound of my name, hope inflating me as I scanned the crowd for the voice. It had to be her. I needed it to be Scarlet. But then Samantha Cooper broke away from the cheerleaders, jogging toward me, and I deflated.

  I took a step back and giving her a head nod. “Sam.”

  Her gaze moved from my eyes to my chest and back up. I was preoccupied, but I wasn’t so much in my own head to realize she looked nervous.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. Not waiting for me to respond, she grabbed my hand and came closer. “I, uh, I need to talk to you.”

  “Right now?”

  She nodded. “Yes. Actually, yes. Because if I don’t tell you now, I might not tell you, and then I’ll—” She swallowed, or tried to, her eyes bouncing between mine. “Come find me after you shower, please. Don’t run away after I tell you this.”

  I blinked, the desperation in her voice clashing against the desperation in my heart. “What’s wrong, Sam?”

  “I’m—” She pressed her lips together, her eyes shiny with unshed tears.

  The roar of my happy teammates sounded distant even though I knew they were approaching. Soon, they’d overtake us.

  “What is it?” I pushed, suddenly impatient. I didn’t have time for this. I needed to find Scarlet. I needed to—

  “Oh Billy.” Her voice broke. “I’m pregnant.”

  I arrived at the party just before 11:00 PM, numb.

  After dropping off Sam, I’d gone home and walked to the edge of the woods, not feeling the cold, not feeling anything. I didn’t expect Scarlet to sing for me. She wasn’t singing, so I found my own way. Her campsite was empty. The firepit was cold and dead. She wasn’t there.

  I didn’t remember the walk back to my truck nor did I realize where I was headed until I pulled up to the old Cabot place.

  And then Duane—my little brother—jogged over to my car. The image of his red hair and salty expression cut through my brain fog like a katana through, literally, anything.

  “What the hell are you doing here, Duane?” I asked, pissed off. I swear, when I find Cletus . . .

  “Hey, Billy,” he said, business-like. “You want to park here, it’ll be five dollars.”

  “But we’ll give you a good spot!” Beau appeared next to Duane, grinning. “And five dollars is a discount, for family members and people we like.”

  “So, just you,” Duane said flatly.

  Duane and Beau will be over at Hank’s, my momma had said. I doubted this is what she had in mind.

  Glancing between them, I wondered what the hell had been wrong with me. Where had I been? What had I been doing? How had Cletus arranged all this, roped our little brothers into parking cars at a high school party, and I’d been oblivious.

  You’ve been with Scarlet.

  This realization had my heart seizing, the searing pain stealing my breath for a second. I had to close my eyes. I can’t. I can’t think about being with Scarlet now. I can’t.

  “Are you okay, Billy?” Beau asked, his voice quiet. “You look . . . did you get hurt during the game?”

  I shook my head, opening my eyes as a new cloak of numb determination settled over me. All sense of feeling on lockdown, I opened the door, slid out, and left the keys in the ignition. I’d have to deal with my twin brothers later.

  “I’m not paying you, but you will get me a good spot. I won’t be long.” Not waiting for a response, I walked between the already parked cars to the gravel road, making my way to the Weller house and having no idea what I was going to do if Scarlet was there. But I would figure it out

  Any hope I’d had for us and the future was now gone. I had a baby on the way. And that was that.

  Samantha’s dad wanted to help me with college—she’d informed me—as long as I stayed in Tennessee. He’d suggested University of Tennessee. He was a fan of their football program. He also wanted us to wait to get married—Sam said—until I’d played college ball and graduated. Then he wanted me to work with him selling cars at his dealership in Merryville.

  I would not be accepting Mr. Cooper’s help.

  I would take care of my family, but I’d do it my way, which included asking Sam what she wanted and making her future a priority. We’d decided things while sitting in my truck, parked in the school lot as all the other cars cleared out after the game. She talked and I listened, narrowing my focus to getting through the next several hours, because what the fuck else was I supposed to do?

  Sam and I would be getting married as soon as possible. She wanted to be married before the baby was born. I’d talk to Dolly Payton about alternate hours and increased shifts at the mill since I’d be seventeen in less than a month. I’d figure out college later. I’d go maybe when our child was in elementary school. Sam would start college in the fall after the baby was born, just like she’d planned. We wouldn’t have to take out too many loans since she had a merit scholarship for tuition and books.

  And I would never see or speak to Scarlet again. I’d decided. Married to one woman and longing for someone else wouldn’t be fair to anyone. I would let Scarlet go.

  I would.

  I would.

  I will.

  Hank Weller was at the door of his family’s lake house, wearing all black, a green visor, and sunglasses even though it was night. This kid was Beau’s best friend like Ben was Jethro’s. He was the only child of two psychiatrists who’d had him late in life after they’d already retired, and he was super weird.

  “Billy Winston, the dreamboat quarterback. You drinking or driving? Because you can’t do both and everyone has to wear a band.” He pushed up his sunglasses, revealing his eyes, and then held up blue wristbands in one hand and white in the other.

  “Give me the white one,” I said, scanning the crowd inside. It was a lot of people. The music was loud once you got close, but I hadn’t heard it when I drove up or when I walked over. Impassively, I noted that Cletus had been right, he was going to pull this off.

  “The white one is for designated drivers, and it’s ten dollars.” Hank tucked the blue bands under his arm and held out a hand. “Cash only, exact change ’cause I don’t own a bank. Yet.”

  I glared at him. “Give me the white band, Hank.”

  He stared at me and I could see his indecision, but I got the sense his motivations were backward. He wanted to fight. He wanted to push the limits and see how far I’d go.

  I shook my head and lean
ed in close. “I’ve had a shitty night, Hank. You ever had a shitty night before?”

  His stare persisted, but I sensed the change in him from morbidly curious to sympathy. “Yeah man, I have.” He nodded, looking older than his age, looking older than me. “Here’s your band,” he said, waving me in.

  I accepted the white band Hank offered, wrapping it around my wrist and sharing an odd commiserating stare with him before entering the house. I’d expected it to be trashed but it wasn’t. The couches and tables were covered in painter’s plastic, the area rugs were missing, and anything glass had been taped up. But there were cups on surfaces, loud music, and lots of bodies.

  Methodically, I searched the rooms. It took longer than I would’ve liked since it seemed everyone wanted to talk to me about something. I shrugged them off, one person after another, until I made it to the den in the back, one of the only rooms without music, and my attention caught on Scarlet’s profile.

  I had to close my eyes again, rein in the urge to experience the devastation I’d been holding at bay. Later. I’ll deal with all this later. I’ll think about all this later.

  Once I was sure I wouldn’t stomp into the room and do something selfish or foolish—like grab her by the hand and suggest we run away together, tonight, right now—I gave myself permission to look at her again.

  Dispassionately, I saw she was sitting on the floor as part of a huge circle. Other kids, more than twenty, were also in the circle, including Cletus. About the same amount were standing on the periphery of the room. One boy was kneeling in the center of the circle, laughing and reaching for something on the floor. A bottle.

  What the—

  The boy spun it, stepping back, and I recognized him. He was on the JV football team, a defensive end. My eyes darted to Scarlet and then the bottle.

  “Ohhhhh!” The voices in the room rose up in unison as soon as the bottle stopped on a girl.

  The boy looked shocked as his brown eyes lifted, connecting with the girl’s. He seemed nervous. Even in the mediocre light, his brown skin seemed to flush with embarrassment. But he also looked excited.