by Anne Key
“Albuquerque doesn’t sound like a real place.” It sounds like a joke.
“Yeah. She lives in an adobe house with tile everywhere. It sort of squats there in the desert. The whole town is dusty.”
“Wow.” I’ve never been anywhere, really, which is weird, because I would have said I traveled all over for games.
All over Dallas/Fort Worth and East Texas, maybe.
God.
“Yeah. You’d like her. She’s a school teacher and a total hoot. This crazy, silver-haired loon with thick glasses and a piano in the middle of her living room.” He leans back in the swing, stretching out long. “I used to think she was a witch or something, like not a scary witch, but one from Harry Potter. Something magical. She grows herbs and wears crystals.”
“Maybe she is.” I’ve met tons of witchy people. Well, okay, not tons, but I know Wiccans. They’re cool.
“Maybe. I never asked her. Hell, I haven’t seen her since.”
“Why? Did something happen?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t think so. I mean, Mom talks to her and stuff. I just… I guess we all have our own lives.”
“Sure. Sure, I get that. My little sister doesn’t see her dad but once a year.”
“Do you ever see yours?”
“No, he died. He was a trucker and got smeared all over the highway.”
“Oh, dude.”
“Yeah, that sucks. I don’t remember him too much. He was big and real dark-skinned, you know.”
“No shit? You don’t look biracial.”
“You don’t think so?” I do. I think I look different from everybody.
“Nah. You look like your mom, really, except for the hair. You’ve got some wild hair.”
“Neither Ben or Amy look like me. Ben’s a redhead and Amy’s a blonde, but Mom says she’ll turn darker, like her.”
“That’s wild. You all have different dads?”
“Yeah.” And if Brant says one word about Mom being a slut, I’m going to pop him in the mouth.
“Does Ben see his dad?”
“Ben’s dad lives in Scotland or something. He’s like a sailor.”
“You’ve got the best family, Charley. I swear, mine’s so fucking boring.”
“You sound like Kaylee.”
“Yeah? She’s okay, a little flighty, but she’s a cheerleader. They come in a bit shallow.”
I growl, but it’s all a joke. Kaylee is a little goofy and the whole fitting-in thing’s important to her, but hell, Brant’s out here with me for appearances sake, right?
“So, what are you going to do about your birthday party?”
“Nothing, probably. I mean, it’s all so messed up. Meaghan and Kaylee, you, Shaundra. You’re the only one that knows all the truth.”
“Well, you and me, we got to make it through graduation, right?”
“Right.” We sort of have an agreement, I guess.
“I guess you can tell your mom about Meaghan and not tell Kaylee.”
“Because that wouldn’t be awkward….”
“Yeah, but will Kaylee tell Steve?”
“Why would she?”
Brant stops the swing and stares at me like I’ve grown a second head. “Dude, why wouldn’t she? He’s her boyfriend.”
“I’m her best friend, though.”
“Uh. Earth to Charley. You haven’t told her about Meaghan, right? But you’ve told Meaghan about her?”
“Well, sure.”
“Then… follow along, girlfriend.”
“The only person I tell everything to is you.” Because Brant’s the safe one. I don’t have anything to lose with him. Or at least we have the same thing to lose.
We’ve got secrets.
“Okay, so who’s the person she tells everything to? It’s not you, not anymore….”
Oh.
Oh God.
“I don’t know.”
I mean, like I really don’t know. One of the cheerleaders? One of the Ashleys or something?
God, how craptastic would that be? How much dirt does she have on me, even if I didn’t tell her the good stuff?
“See? What if it’s Steve?”
“She wouldn’t do that….”
“Don’t be naive. She totally would. He’s like her lover now. Like he fucks her.”
Okay, that’s too far. “Shut up.”
“What? You don’t want to hear it? I’ve heard about it all, detail by detail.” God, he can be a fucking little bitch.
“Yeah, I have it on damn good authority that you’ve been giving them details about us—us as in you and me. Us as in fucking and making out and stuff when we’re both totally queer!”
Brant stops, stares. “Who told you that?”
“Who do you think?” Kaylee did and I know full well where she heard it.
“I’m going to beat Steve’s ass.” Brant shakes his head. “I mean, sure, we were talking and I had to say something, but the bastard promised not to tell.”
“Well, either he’s a liar or there’s someone that Steve tells all his secrets to that isn’t you.” It’s supposed to feel good, to get one up on someone, isn’t it?
“Yeah, no shit. I got a secret that will get my ass handed to me on a silver platter.”
Oh.
Oh!
“Oh God. I didn’t….”
“How could you not know, Charley?” He’s fixin’ to cry, I can tell. His eyes are all shimmery in the street lights.
“I guess I just…. Steve? Really?” How could someone as cool as Brant want someone like Steve? Hell, how could both my best friends want him?
“It’s stupid, I know, but yeah.”
“He’s not….”
“God, no. He’s the king of boobs, specifically cheerleader boobs.”
I don’t even want to think about that, really. Christ.
“I just… I know it’s stupid. I mean, like, I’m totally completely aware of the dumbness of me, but I love him. For reals. I can’t stop thinking about him. I mean, how did you do it, Charley?”
Do what? How did I do what? I have no fucking idea what I did.
“I mean, seriously, it was totally obvs that you were into Kaylee. Like bone deep. How did you just turn around and get into someone else?”
He’s looking at me like I have an answer, and all I can think is, it was totally obvs? Really?
God.
“I…. Kaylee and I weren’t ever going to be. I mean, we experimented and stuff but she’s not interested.” She doesn’t know I’m queer.
I didn’t know, not really. Not until I met someone like Meaghan who was all out and open and shit.
“So how do you stop loving them?”
“You don’t.” I love Kaylee. I’ll always love her, like even if we are separated by a giant tsunami or an earthquake or an explosion tomorrow and I never see her again or if she’s burned over 90 percent of her body and I don’t recognize her anymore or she becomes a bitchy cheerleader instead of a nice one. No matter what. I love her.
It’s what happens.
Brant does cry now, and I don’t know where to look because boys don’t do that and I’m totally bad about it at the best of times, and this is utterly not the best time because I’m still processing the whole in love with Steve thing, and we’ve covered a shitload more than that already.
“You’ll find someone. I swear.” That’s cool, right? I mean, I wasn’t looking for Meaghan and I found her or she found me or maybe Brant found her for me, but still. It worked.
“Yeah. You’d think someone as hot as me would have no trouble….”
“You’re here. No one can be anything different here.” Everyone’s the same as someone and, like, completely different from everyone and it doesn’t make sense. Hell, just thinking about it is crazy-making.
“Yeah. Do your best. Pick what you want to be and stick with it. Even on Glee, it’s like that. You can be queer and fussy and talented and everyone’s mean to you. You can’t be queer and a jock an
d cool.”
“No. Just like I can’t be short-haired and love softball and dirt poor and cool.”
“You forgot queer.” This time he manages a wink.
“That’s so far down the list of shit that isn’t cool about me that I’m not sure it matters, man. I work at the shitty grocery store. I ain’t got a dad. I’m, like, totally not smart.”
“You’re a kick-ass pitcher.”
“I am.” And that’s not even cool, if you’re not into girls’ sports. I mean, it’s not even in the Olympics anymore.
“You want to go hit up Starbucks? I’m craving a latte.”
“Sure. Then I got to get home, huh?”
“Yeah, you’ve got the big sleepover Saturday night.” He waggles his eyebrows at me. Fucker.
“Yep.”
Nothing is going to happen.
Chapter 14
ABSOLUTELY NOTHING is going to happen.
The trailer looks fine; I cleaned all the things and even ran the vacuum, which is like my least favorite chore ever. I dropped Amy at her friend Molly’s for the weekend. I brought home a big thing of chicken and mashed potatoes from the store, along with some cupcakes that were “slightly damaged.” Slightly damaged. Right. They’d been thrown across the bakery by this pair of little fuck middle-schoolers.
Assholes.
BK threw them out and banned them, but the damage had been done.
It’s not a great dinner, but it’s free, right? Right.
After the shitty work day I had, it’s the best I can do. Meaghan will understand.
I check my phone. She had to do some stuff with her family, so she’s supposed to be here by eight, eight thirty.
I don’t know exactly, because she promised her dad she wouldn’t text and drive, which, yeah, I totally get.
I’m wearing my hoodie, because it’s chilly, and a pair of pajama bottoms, because jeans seem stuck up. What if I look like “oh, easy access,” though?
I mean, I sort of want to be touchable, but not slutty. I have a pair of leggings. If I put them on with a big shirt, that’s cool, right?
I strip the pants off, put on the leggings. God, my legs are like sticks and I’m never going to have boobs. Never. It’s not fair.
I find a great big shirt and pull it on, then put the hoodie back on. Okay. Okay, yeah. Cas, but not frumptastic. I like it. Now, fuzzy socks and I’m ready.
Easy, but not dumpy.
God, this dating thing is hard. Good, but hard.
I put all of the food on the table and start flipping channels as I wait. Everything is witches and vampires and slimy, bitey sex. Do people think that’s cool? I mean, they have to, right, because every channel has that show, but me?
No gory kisses.
I find one of The Real Housewives and settle in for a little screaming. I’m just figuring out why who is mad with who and why they all hate each other today when Ben walks in the door and throws his keys on the table and makes me damn near jump out of my skin.
“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at work!” Shit.
“Got cut. It’s super dead for a Saturday. Ooh. Cupcakes”
He grabs one and shoves it in his mouth before plopping on the couch and grabbing the remote.
Okay.
Okay, this wasn’t in the plan.
“I have company coming over.”
“So?” God, he’s a prick. “You’re not allowed to have guys over unsupervised.”
“One, I’ll be eighteen in a week, and two, it’s not a boy, asshole.”
“Kaylee is totally not company.”
I’m going to kill him. “It’s not Kaylee?”
“Shaundra?”
“No.” I’m gritting my teeth so hard it hurts my jaw. “Don’t you have anywhere else to go?”
“Nope.”
God damn it.
Okay, Charley. Think. I could pay him off, except I totally don’t have the cash. I had to pay the cell-phone bills this month. Honestly, Ben should be paying me for food because he’s supposed to be eating at….
At work.
I narrow my eyes. “Did you get fired?”
“What?”
“Did. You. Get. Your. Skanky. Ass. Fired? No way it’s slow enough on a Saturday night to be cut. No fucking way.”
Oh. Oh, hell yes. I got him. I can tell by the way he’s opening and closing his fingers, over and over.
“I’m totally calling Mom and telling her.” I grab my phone and he starts back-pedaling.
“No. No, don’t. I didn’t get fired. I swear I didn’t.”
“Then why are you home?” I know as well as Ben does that Mom needs him to pay his part of the bills. He wouldn’t ask to come home unless he was dying of the plague or something and he looks fine, ate a cupcake too.
“I got written up.” Ben rolls his eyes. “It was totally bogus. Jim told Ernie I was pinching his tips. I didn’t do it, but both of us got written up.”
“Did you kick his ass in the parking lot? I mean, seriously, what’s his deal?”
“I think it’s Lauren that’s doing it, but I don’t know for sure. I mean, I know it’s not me, but… fuck, no one ever believes the pretty girl did it.”
“That sucks.” And it does, but I need him to get the fuck out of Dodge. “You should go see Nadine.”
“Maybe.” He sighs. “I just don’t want to have to explain.”
“So drive the long way and say you worked a shift.” I don’t care. I just need him to go.
“Who’s coming over that’s got you all stupid? It’s a boy, isn’t it? You’re lying.”
“Am not!” I mean, I am, but not about this. Not for real. “Her name’s Meaghan. I play with her on one of the leagues.”
“Oh God. You and your fucking baseball.”
“Softball!” I know he does it on purpose. Asshole.
“Whatever. Is she cute?”
She’s gorgeous. “You want me to tell Nadine you asked?”
“Bitch. No. Just… I just want to hang out.”
“I need you to go. Just for a couple of hours. She’s driving from Plano, man. I’ll keep my mouth shut with Mom if you clear out.”
“Don’t tell Mom and pay the light bill.”
“I don’t think so.” I pick up my phone again. I got this now, and he knows it.
Ben stands up, sighs dramatically. “Okay. Okay, fine! I’ll go. Jesus. You are totally made of suck!”
“I’m not the one that got in trouble at work!” God, it feels good to have a scream, especially like this, where it doesn’t matter.
“Yeah, that’s because you don’t actually work for a living, you fucking button pusher.”
“You don’t even have to check people out anymore. You take orders and run food and hide out in the back and smoke weed.”
“I do not. I hide out by the dumpster to do that. It smells so bad that no one wants to look.”
Okay, okay. That was gross. Like really.
“Get out of here, you turdmonkey.”
“I better not hear you blabbed to Mom.”
I just stare at him. He knows better. If there’s one agreement we have—and, honestly, we have lots—it’s that the less Mom actually knows about our lives, the better.
What wouldn’t piss her off would just stress her out.
By the time Ben leaves, he actually passes Meaghan’s Chevy in the trailer park. I figure that’s pretty cool because he’s all worried that it’s Brant.
Like that’s less dangerous.
I open the door and wave and she grabs a cute little rainbow-colored bag. “I brought my jammies!”
“Woot!” God, she’s pretty, all smiles with her hair down in pigtails. “I brought fried chicken from the deli.”
“OMG. I love that shit. It’s like vicious bad for you, but you can’t make it taste like that at home.”
“Nope.” Yay! “I think it’s the heat of the big fryer.”
Meaghan’s in the house and I shut the door, lock it, s
uddenly nervous as all get out.
“I’m fixin’ to kiss you. Supper might have to wait a bit.” Meaghan smells so fucking good.
A rush of tingles starts building, starting at the bottom of my rib cage and pushing outward in weird little waves. “It’s okay. It’ll wait.”
I don’t think I can.
Meaghan drops her bag with a thunk and then walks up to me, and, for the first time—mainly because we’ve only ever kissed over the console of a car—I step forward to meet her.
I mean, it’s only a little baby step, but it feels fucking huge, like I’ve stepped over the Grand Canyon and….
“You think all the time, Char. You’ve got the busiest brain ever.” Then her lips touch mine and all thought stops.
Like whoa.
By the time we stop making out, we’re on the couch, wrapped around each other, and her hair is a total mess. Her lips are swollen and she’s laughing. “Well, that was more fun than advertised!”
“I don’t know. I downloaded The L Word. It’s advertised as pretty fun.” I rest my head on her shoulder. “Although I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to have a big fight now.”
“Let’s just pretend to and then have the big make-up scene.”
“Works for me.”
“You hungry?”
“I could eat. Don’t want to move, though. I could just stay right here.”
I love when she says stuff like that. It makes me go all marshmallow and cotton candy inside.
“It’ll still keep.” I pull the afghan over us, sighing happily.
“Where’s your sister?”
“Friend’s house. She has friends now. Creepy, huh?” To me she’ll always be, like, this little kid. Not a real person.
We find something on the tube on deep cable, but we’re neither one of us paying attention. We’re snuggling, and it’s like the best feeling ever.
When the pounding on the front door comes, I damn near jump out of my skin, pushing off the couch to straighten my clothes. No one just shows up here except the people that live here, and they don’t knock.
“Who is it?”
I grab the shotgun that’s near the door, and hear Meaghan gasp. “You’ve got a gun!”
“It’s not mine. It’s my mom’s.”
“But….”