by Gayle Forman
We finished the set and bounded backstage. The crowd was going berserk. “Boy, they’re really digging us,” Denise said.
“They probably don’t get much music out here,” Erik said. I wanted to tell him that that was what Ansley had said to me, but I couldn’t get my mouth to work. The crowd was still clapping, pounding on the tables, chanting “more.”
“I think we have to go back out there,” Jed said.
“What should we play?” Denise asked.
“I dunno,” Jed said. “That was our entire set.”
“I know. You guys go out and play something without me. It’s cool.”
“No. No way,” Jed said. “That chanting out there, it’s for all of us. We’ll just do a cover.”
“Covers are a cop-out.” Clod did covers at practices, for fun, but we never played them at live shows. It was a point of pride with us. “I have an idea,” I said. “Okay guys, listen. It’s a straight G, D, A minor. Ballady. If I start, can you just fall in? It’s pretty basic.”
“G, D, A minor. I can handle that,” Jed said. “You got it?” he nodded to Denise.
“And slowish, Erik. I know you like speed but this one’s quiet. Use your brushes.”
“Got it. Mellow.”
I went out on the stage and picked up my guitar. “This song is for my Sisters. And for my band, too. It’s called ‘I Got Your Back.’ Ready, guys?” And then I started strumming, and as always Jed picked up the riff, followed by Denise and Erik, and it was like we all knew the song, like we’d always played it. After I finished, the audience was on its feet, stamping and screaming. We all waved and ran offstage.
“Is it just me, or was that the greatest show?” Denise gushed.
“It wasn’t just you,” Jed said quietly. “This was special.”
Afterward, we loaded up and, just like old times, went to Denny’s and gorged ourselves. I ordered blueberry pancakes, a burger and fries, a shake, and of course endless cups of coffee. Maybe it was the show or my nerves, or maybe Denny’s food tasted unbelievably delicious after six months of Red Rock freeze-dried crap. When the waitress brought out my multiple entrees, everyone laughed, but then they seemed concerned.
“They starving you in there?” Denise said.
“Hmm, nrot quwrite,” I said, mouth full.
“This girl always could pack away her body weight in food,” Erik said. “But chill with the coffee or you won’t sleep.”
“I don’t care. We’re not allowed coffee in that place. Can you imagine six months without a cup of coffee?”
“Whoa, they are starving you in there. Isn’t there some human-rights law about denying coffee?” Like most people from Portland, Denise took her caffeine addiction very seriously.
“I wish,” I said.
“So this Denny’s swill must taste like champagne,” Jed said.
“The Dom Perignon of java,” I admitted.
“Life without good coffee. Dude, it makes you appreciate what you’ve got,” Erik said.
“Amen to that,” Jed said, looking at me kind of funny.
As we ate, they caught me up on all the latest news on the Clod-front. After the Indian Summer Festival that I missed, they’d been booked all over Oregon and Washington, in clubs, even in some bigger venues opening for other bands. A couple of indie labels were talking about making a single, or maybe even a whole CD. They kept reassuring me that when I got back, my place was still there, and they weren’t looking for a replacement. “We make a decent trio,” Denise said. “But we’re better as a foursome.”
“Hear, hear,” Erik said, holding up his cup.
Around two, Denise and Erik started yawning. Denise pointed to her watch. “We should probably get some shut-eye,” she said.
“Are you driving out tonight?” I asked. We often napped in the back of the van before driving on after a show.
“Nah. Next stop is Spokane, which is miles from here. But we don’t have to be there until the day after tomorrow, so we’re crashing at a Motel 6.”
“Wow, motels. You guys are big-time now.”
“We make enough at the door now to at least cover the tour. And to pay for your enormous meal,” Erik said as he swooped up the bill.
We made our way back to the van, Erik making a big show of letting me ride shotgun. I was still feeling giddy and way wired on the coffee, but as we drove through town, it hit me that the night was ending. I wasn’t going on to Spokane and the next fun place. I was going back there. It was like someone turned the lights out and I got instantly depressed. A weird mood descended on all of us, no one talking or joking like we’d been just a few minutes before. When I spotted the Motel 6 sign in the distance, I felt empty inside, a huge pit in my Denny’s-bloated stomach.
“What about you?” Jed asked me as he pulled into the driveway.
“What about me?”
“When do you have to be back?”
“Roll call’s at seven, but I should probably be back before it gets light. Around six, I guess.”
“Do you feel like staying out? Maybe taking a drive? I don’t want to get you busted—”
“No,” I interrupted. “I mean, don’t worry about me. I want to stay out.”
“I’m glad. Me too,” he said.
When we dropped off Denise and Erik at the motel, they gave me a giant group hug. I felt sad to see them go but also so excited to be alone with Jed—at least for a few hours.
“You hang in there, girl.”
“Thanks, Denise. I’ll be okay.”
“I know you will.”
“Here’s a little something to get you through the rough times,” Erik said, offering me a Baggie full of pot.
“No thanks, Erik.”
“Really? It’s the kind bud.”
“Moron. She doesn’t even smoke, and she’s like in prison,” Denise said. “Sorry, Brit.”
“No, it’s fine. Thanks, Erik. I appreciate the thought.”
“Okay, we’ll see you back in P-town,” he said.
“Absolutely.” I gave them one last hug good-bye, then I climbed back into the van with Jed. “So, where are you taking me?”
“I thought we’d drive into the mountains. Zion National Park is pretty close to here. I went there with my grandparents once. It’s got these really unusual rock formations, all named after Mormon prophets. It’s intense. I don’t know how much we can see at night, but we’ve almost got a full moon.” He pointed out the window to where the moon was shining bright and white.
“It sounds great. I haven’t seen much of the area.”
“Don’t you get out, to walk around or anything?
“Not really. They have these hikes when the weather is warmer, but they’re more like marches. It’s not about enjoying the scenery.”
“It sounds awful, this place you’re in. I looked it up on the Internet. Really scary stuff.”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
“You know what? I’d rather just forget that place for tonight.”
Jed smiled, but he looked sad. “What place?” he asked.
We drove along a winding road uphill. The moon was reflecting off the giant, sheer red cliffs jutting straight out of the canyons. I stared out the window in between sneaking glances at Jed—mainly at the side of his neck. I had such an urge to lick it, imagining the taste, salty with dried sweat. We wound through the mountains, Jed playing me songs that had been released within the last six months, music that I’d missed. After about a half hour, we pulled into a town called Springdale, and Jed parked the van. “I think this is the end of the road. The park starts now. We can just walk from here. If you want.”
“I’d like that.”
“Are you cold?”
I was freezing. All I had on was the skirt Martha had stitched me and a sweatshirt I’d borrowed from Ansley. I nodded. Jed pawed through the back and pulled out his beat-up brown suede jacket, the one he wore everywhere, the one I used
to sneak sniffs of when he wasn’t looking. “Here, you wear this. And I’ll grab a blanket in case we need reinforcements.”
We walked into the park and Jed tried to catch me up on life in Portland. He made me laugh with gossip about who was dating whom, which band had broken up, who had gotten a record deal. I had forgotten how easy it was to talk to him, and all my nerves from earlier in the evening vanished. We walked for a half hour, until we found ourselves in a grassy clearing next to a small river.
“Want to stop awhile?”
I wanted to stop for more than a while. I wanted to freeze-frame the night, leave it so it would go on forever, even though I had to be back in a few hours. But I just said yes. Jed spread out the blanket, and we lay down. The sky was amazing, full of millions of stars and so crisp you could see the Milky Way. “I forgot how clear it was out here,” Jed said. I was lying right next to him, so close I could see the faint veins in his earlobes. I reached over and squeezed his wrist.
“Thank you, Jed.”
“For what?”
“For everything. For the letters, for dragging the band to Utah. For this,” I said, gesturing to the sky.
He took my hand and stroked my palm. “I didn’t do it for you,” he said in a quiet voice. “Not entirely.” Then he took both my hands in his grasp and kissed me on the inside of each wrist, moving his way up with feathery kisses to my elbows, my shoulders, my neck. By the time he reached my lips, my whole body was humming with anticipation, and the kiss itself, it was like melting chocolate. We stayed there for a while, kissing and touching. And then Jed started to laugh.
“God, I’ve been wanting to do that for too long.”
“You have? Then why didn’t you, you moron?” I said, smacking him on the chest before burying my face into his neck and at long last licking it like my own personal lollipop. He kissed me again, all over my face, then pulled away and brushed the hair out of my eyes.
“At first I just thought you were too young. Then it was because I didn’t want to mess things up with the band. And then you were going through all that personal crap and I didn’t want to add another complication to your life.”
“You’re not a complication. You’re the opposite of a complication. You and the band were the two good, effortless things in my life.”
“And you, Brit, are a rock star. Don’t let anyone make you feel like any less.”
“I won’t.”
“Promise me.”
“I will if you promise to stop talking now.”
Jed grinned as he reached for me again.
That night, after we fell asleep under the blanket, after I woke up with my head on Jed’s chest, I took a sense-memory picture. It was something my mom had taught me to do, to record how a place sounded, looked, smelled, tasted, and felt. That way, if something was really special, you could take it with you, summon it at any time. I pulled up memories of my mom that way a lot, and I knew I’d be calling up this night again. As I was recording everything, listening to Jed’s heart thump in my ear, I saw a shooting star flame across the sky, like the world’s biggest firefly.
Chapter 16
Later that morning, back in the dorm, I could still taste Jed on me, could smell him, feel the spot on my chin that had been rubbed raw by his stubble. It already felt like a dream, the whole night—Jed driving me back, telling me I didn’t have to go, that I could just stay with him, go back to Portland. I wanted to say yes, but I knew that wasn’t the answer. I had to figure out how to get out of Red Rock free and clear. I had to get my life back. Jed said he understood and promised that he and Clod would be waiting for me when I got home. Then I snuck back into the room, where Bebe was laying awake in her bed. She flashed me a thumbs-up sign with a questioning look and I flashed her a thumbs-up back, along with the world’s goofiest grin. She silently cheered and motioned for me to get into bed. I lay there, watching the sun come up through the shades, savoring the night.
At 6:30 A.M., the lights went on, and Sheriff’s voice boomed over the speaker, “Rise and shine, girlies.” I didn’t want to erase Jed’s scent by showering, so I just got dressed. At seven, I shuffled out to roll call. I had to clench my mouth shut to keep from smiling. Normally roll call was split by Levels—Three and Four in one group, and Five and Six in another—but this morning we were all ordered outside to the quarry. When I got out there, V sidled up next to me. “Something’s up, something’s happened,” she hissed. “Whatever you do, don’t say a thing. I mean it, Brit. Not a word.” And then she disappeared to line up with all the Level Sixers.
The counselors came out and did the head count, same as they did every morning. When they were done, they went and conferred with one another and Sheriff. There hadn’t been a school-wide roll call since I’d arrived, so this was a rare event. Everyone was buzzing, talking to one another about what was happening. V was giving me her sternest look. I had a bad feeling.
After some talk, Sheriff came back out. “I bet you girls think you’re pretty smart,” he began, scanning the crowd. “I bet you think you’re so clever. Well, let me tell you, this ain’t gonna end pretty. One of you girls decided to take a little night off, didn’t you? We got a call this morning saying that someone had spotted a Red Rock uniform over in St. George. Nah, I thought. My girls are smarter than that. They know better. But just to be sure, we got out our surveillance tapes, and you know what we found? We found that someone here had broken the trust. We got it on tape.”
Shit, shit, shit, shit, I thought to myself. I’m so screwed. But even as I knew I was about to get nailed, sent down the river to Level One or worse, part of me didn’t care. I wouldn’t have traded last night for the world.
“We got ourselves a bit of a problem,” Sheriff said. “It’s dark. And we don’t have a good shot of who it was, but we’ve got some ideas. And trust me, we’re going to find out just who our runaway is. So before we get into this further, I’m giving the guilty party this one opportunity to step forward.”
V was practically burning holes through me with her eyes, her brows in full-arch mode. I kept my mouth shut.
“I can’t say I’m surprised. A liar, a cheat, and a rat, that’s who the guilty girl is. And rats don’t come out easy, but there’s ways to smoke ’em out. You girls are gonna help, too. Starting now. If anyone knows who our runaway is and wants to tell us about it, step forward. I can promise you, you’ll be rewarded.”
Tiffany! She would fink me out in a second. She’d been snoring when I left, but who knew if she’d woken up to pee and saw that I was missing. I stared at her and saw that Bebe was looking her way too. But Tiffany was watching Sheriff with rapt attention. She was too dumb to fake dumb. She didn’t know.
“Again, I can’t say I’m surprised, girlies. Disappointed, but not surprised. So how about we add a little incentive to the pot, something to motivate you girls into helping us find our guilty party? As of right now, you are all dropped down a level.”
A yell erupted from the crowd. “No way.” “That’s not fair!” “It’s not our fault.” Everyone protested.
“Quiet!” yelled Sheriff. “You’re right, it’s not fair. But we’re a family here and we take responsibility for each other’s actions. One of you girls broke the rules. So this is the way it’s gonna be until we figure out who ran out last night. Now here’s where you girls can help yourselves. I know that some of you must know what happened. Whoever did this didn’t act alone, is my hunch. So here’s our little game. You have a week, and in that week I want to find out who ran out last night. If any one of you names the culprit in a week, you’ll all be restored to your current levels. If you don’t, you’ll drop down again. Is that understood?”
Another wail went up among the girls. Some were crying. I had to hand it to Sheriff. He was more clever than I’d pegged him to be. And his plan was successful. I knew that the Sisters would never give me up, but there was no way I was going to let everyone drop a level. I took a deep breath and started to work my way through the
crowd.
“That won’t be necessary, Mr. Austin,” V said, striding forward, just as Bebe yanked me back by my collar. “I did it. I’m the one who went to St. George.”
Just like that, everyone was silent, and then in unison, everyone gasped.
“Larson, why am I not surprised?” Sheriff said. “I will meet you in my office, girlie. The rest of you are restored to your levels, but let this be a warning: if any one of you runs out again, I will knock all of you down a peg, immediately. So you might want to keep a close watch on each other, to prevent this kind of breach from happening again. Now get to breakfast.”
The crowd shuffled away, atwitter with all the drama. As our unit walked by, Sheriff called out “Hemphill, Howarth, Wallace, Jones, you come here.” Bebe, Martha, Cassie, and I slunk over. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the little club you girlies have formed for yourselves. Don’t think for a second I think any of you is innocent in this monkey business. Just so you know, I’m gonna be watching you very closely, waiting for you to slip up, and when you do, I’m gonna be there to kick your butts. Now get out of my sight,” he said, wiping the saliva from his lips.
Silently, we walked toward the cafeteria. All around us, the other girls were giddy with gossip. “Can you believe it? God, that was so stupid,” one Level Three girl said.
“I know. Like, she’s Level Six. She’s about to get out. Why would she blow it like that?”
I was wondering the very same thing.
As I walked down the hall, I saw her there, standing outside Sheriff’s office, looking small, with a goon guard on either side of her. She was staring at me, trying to impart one of her silent cryptic messages. I knew she wanted me to look back at her, to receive the message. I knew that I should. I should be grateful. She saved my ass, took my fall. But I couldn’t look at her and I wasn’t grateful. I was furious.