by Marie Sexton
Larry laughed. Not a nice laugh, either. It was full of mockery. “He ain’t here.”
Amy and Jimmy glanced sideways at him. Logan ignored him completely.
“I can see that,” Nate said. “I just . . . I couldn’t think where else he’d be—”
“He doesn’t come here much anymore,” Amy said.
“Not since we all learned he’s a fag.” That was Larry again. And just as before, Amy and Jimmy threw awkward glares his way while Logan ignored him.
“Amy’s right,” Jimmy said. “Cody doesn’t really hang out here. Not since—”
Larry laughed again. “Not since Dusty—”
Amy jumped to her feet, staring at Larry. “Shut up. Jesus, you’re such a pig. What’s Cody ever done to you?”
Larry only laughed, and Nate focused on Logan again. “Do you know where he lives?”
“He lives in the fucking Hole, man,” Larry crowed. “How trashy can you get?”
Logan finally turned his icy gaze Larry’s way. “Not like that’s his fault.”
“Guess his mom doesn’t make enough as a lizard.”
“That ain’t his fault either.”
“Everything else about him is, though.”
Nate cleared his throat. He hated how soft and weak his voice sounded when he spoke. “Like what?”
The triumphant smile on Larry’s face was enough to turn Nate’s stomach. “Like that he’s a fag.”
Nate sighed. “I get it. You don’t like him. That doesn’t mean—”
“No, man.” This time, it was Jimmy who spoke, not with Larry’s gleeful hatred, but in a tone that was almost apologetic. “He’s right. Cody’s— Well, he’s a homo. He’s into guys. Everybody knows it.”
“Yeah?” Logan said, suddenly pushing to his feet. “So what?”
Jimmy shrank a bit, backing down in front of Logan’s obvious threat, but Larry wasn’t so easily cowed. “‘So’? He probably has AIDS, the fucking queer.”
Logan shook his head. “Jesus, you’re an ignorant hick, you know that?”
“I don’t believe it, anyway,” Jimmy said without meeting anybody’s eyes. “I mean, I’ve hung out with him a bit. We had slumber parties when we were kids, and he never came on to me.”
Larry rolled his eyes. “Right. And God knows no fag could resist you, right?”
Jimmy shrugged, trying to look unconcerned, although he looked more embarrassed than anything.
“Who cares anyway?” Logan asked.
They were all standing now, moving away from the table, closing in on each other. The other teenagers in the bowling alley began to look their way, like sharks sensing blood in the water.
“You telling me you don’t care that he takes it up the ass?” Larry asked.
Logan shrugged. “That’s what I’m telling you, yeah. Like Amy said, he’s never done anything to you, has he? And it’s nobody else’s business anyway.”
Amy looked pleased that Logan agreed with her. Larry, on the other hand, rolled his eyes. “Gimme a break, Logan. You just like thinking you’re better than us.”
“Better than you, at any rate.” Larry opened his mouth to speak, but Logan rushed on before Larry could interrupt. “You know what? My whole life, my Aunt Nadine’s lived with a chick. We call her Aunt Mabel. And if you ask my mom, she says Nadine and Mabel are just good friends. But I’ll tell you what, I’ve been to their house, and they only have one bedroom.”
“They’re dykes!” Larry said.
“Maybe they are, but so what? They’re cool, man. And I’d rather have them than my Uncle Frank. He’s a drunk, and he beats on my aunt, and he beats on my cousins, and he harasses all the waitresses at work. Everybody knows he fucks around with any woman whose pants he can get into. So am I supposed to be proud of my good ol’ Uncle Frank and ashamed of my aunts because they like each other more than they like guys?”
For a moment, nobody spoke. There was only the wocka-wocka-wocka of the Pac-Man game behind them. Everybody else was watching now, edging closer, trying to hear what was being said. Jimmy was the one who broke the silence.
“I didn’t know that about Frank.” His voice was low, pitched so the others couldn’t hear. “I didn’t know he hit Lorraine.”
Nate couldn’t help but think he was intentionally missing Logan’s point.
“So you like your dyke aunts,” Larry said, apparently unwilling to let the point go. He allowed his voice carry, seemingly pleased at the crowd that was drawing nearer. “You probably think about them while you’re jacking off. You probably love imagining them in bed together.”
Logan took a step toward Larry, and Jimmy and Nate both put a hand out at the same time to stop him, although Nate doubted they would have been able to hold him if he decided to really make a move.
“Or maybe you don’t,” Larry went on. “Maybe you think about Cody. Maybe you’re a fag too.”
Logan relaxed, his anger fading into a snide smirk. “You know I’m not gay. I fucked your sister.” He glanced at the group of onlookers. “Of course, who here hasn’t?”
The grin fell from Larry’s face.
“Everybody’s fucked her.” Logan hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “Even Nate here’s fucked her.”
Nate shifted on his feet, wishing Logan hadn’t dragged him into it. Maybe he should speak up and say it wasn’t true, but Logan didn’t give him a chance.
“Everybody’s fucked her. Everybody except Cody, and you. And let’s face it—she’d put out for Cody too, if he bothered to take her up on it.” Logan’s smile was mean, his eyes hard. “Must be frustrating, being the only guy in town she won’t spread her legs for.”
Larry flew at Logan. It was lucky Jimmy was both faster and bigger. Several other guys moved in too, some helping to hold Larry back, some putting their hands against Logan’s chest, as if that would have been enough to stop him. Larry was flailing, swearing, screaming, spit flying from his mouth as he fought to get to Logan, and Logan just stood there and smiled. He shook his head, chuckling.
“You’re an idiot.” And with that, he turned on his heel and headed for the door. “You coming, Nate?” he called over his shoulder.
Nate glanced once at Larry, who was still blustering, his face so red Nate half wondered if the guy was having a heart attack, and Jimmy, trying to talk him down, telling him not to listen to Logan, and all the other teenagers who were staring, starting to put their heads together and whisper.
He didn’t fit in here any better than he did with the Orange Grove clique.
“I’m coming.”
He didn’t quite run, but he walked as fast as he could, trying to catch up with Logan’s long strides as he followed him out of the bowling alley, into the cold Wyoming night.
Logan was still chuckling when he finally stopped on the far side of the narrow parking lot. He leaned against the driver’s side door of his Camaro and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.
“Why’d you do that?” Nate asked.
“Do what?” Logan shook one smoke free and offered the pack to Nate.
Nate shook his head. He hadn’t smoked much since he’d lost touch with Cody. “Why’d you mouth off to Larry like that? And why’d you stick up for Cody?”
Logan lit his cigarette and pocketed the lighter. He blew smoke and tucked his thumbs into the front pockets of his jeans, looking at Nate like he was the biggest fool he’d ever seen.
Hell, maybe he was.
“’Cause Larry’s an ignorant prick, and ’cause Cody doesn’t deserve that shit.” He took another drag off his cigarette, eyeing Nate through the smoke. “Unless maybe you think he does.”
It sounded like a question. “No. Of course he doesn’t.” Nate wrapped his jacket tighter around himself. Cars drove past, their lights wedging between the vehicles parked at the bowling alley, but he could see Logan’s expression well enough, thanks to the streetlights. “But is all that true?”
Logan crossed his arms, squinting at Nate. “All what?”
“The stuff he said.”
Logan shook his head. “Nuh-uh. I ain’t gonna make it that easy on you. You got a question, you ask it. Then I’ll decide if I’m going to answer.”
Nate sighed, thinking back through the entire thing. “He said Cody lived in the Hole.”
“Well, you know where Cody lives, right?”
“No.” He was glad it was dark so Logan couldn’t see how much it pained him to admit it. “He never let me see. He always had me meet him at the gas station.”
Logan’s lips turned down. Not quite a frown, but a look of puzzlement. “Huh.”
“What do they mean, anyway? What’s the Hole?”
Logan scuffed the toe of his boot against the concrete, considering. Finally, he pointed down the road. “You’re talking about that gas station on the corner of Front and El Paso, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. You know the trailer park just down the street from there?”
“Yes.”
“And have you ever driven through that park?”
Nate’s stomach sank, seeing where the conversation was headed. “You mean, under the tracks?”
“Right. You’ve seen what’s there?”
“A dirt lot.”
“And a handful of the rattiest trailers in town.”
Nate stared down at his feet. “I’ve seen them.”
“Everybody calls it the Shit Hole. Like, the last place all the trash in this town goes before it dies.”
“And Cody lives there?”
Logan squinted at him through the haze of his cigarette. “Maybe you should ask him.”
Nate pinched the bridge of his nose. Somebody drove by blasting Van Halen, David Lee Roth encouraging them to jump, before the truck rounded the corner and the music faded into the night. “What about the rest? Something about his mom? And lizards? And Cody?” He had to take a deep breath to make himself say the words. “Is he really gay?”
Logan didn’t answer, and Nate finally dropped his hand and faced him. Logan still had his arms crossed. He’d almost finished the cigarette. It smoldered between two thick fingers. “The way Cody tells it, you guys were pretty close over break. Seems like you were friends.”
“We were.”
“But then school starts, and you just run off with your buddies from the Grove without a backward glance.”
“No!” He wasn’t sure if he was angry or just frustrated as hell. “That’s not how it happened. He’s the one avoiding me! I’ve looked for him. I’ve tried to find him. Jesus, that’s why I came here tonight, to this fucking joke of a bowling alley, trying to figure out where the hell he’s been hiding!” He sighed, scrubbing his hand through his hair, his sudden burst of temper already burned out. “It’s like he’s afraid of me or something.”
Logan dropped his cigarette and ground it beneath the toe of his boot. “Or something.”
He obviously knew Cody better than Nate at this point, and Nate tried not to hate him for it. “Look, are you going to tell me where he is or not?”
“At work.” Logan put his hands in his jacket pockets. Nate expected him to pull his cigarettes out again, but he didn’t. “He’s been washing dishes with me up the Tomahawk.”
Nate certainly hadn’t expected that. “Since when?”
“Since school started. We alternate Mondays. He works Wednesday and Friday, so I can play football. I work Tuesday, Thursday. We both work Saturdays, sometimes together, sometimes back-to-back.”
Okay. Here was information Nate could really work with. He felt a small surge of hope. “So he’s there right now?”
“He’s scheduled to work till ten.”
“And what about tomorrow?”
“Sunday? Tomahawk’s closed on Sundays.”
Of course it was. Nate still wasn’t used to living in a town that shut down completely every seventh day. Only Pat’s, the bar on the edge of the town, was open on Sundays, and from what Nate could see, it seemed to do pretty good business too. “Will you see him before then?”
Logan cocked his head, studying Nate as if he couldn’t quite tell if he was a butterfly or just a dumb old miller moth. “Maybe.”
But the way he said it clearly meant, If I decide I want to.
“Will you ask him to meet me? Tell him I’ve been looking for him. Please. Tell him I’ll meet him tomorrow at noon. At the usual place. Tell him—” He almost said, Tell him I’m sorry, but he stopped himself. Cody deserved to hear his apology in person. “Just tell him to come. Will you do that for me? Please?”
Logan pushed off the side of his car and turned to unlock the driver-side door. “For you? No. I won’t do a goddamned thing for you.” He didn’t even glance over his shoulder as he climbed inside. “But I’ll do it for Cody.”
Cody was glad when ten o’clock rolled around. Logan had left at eight, and without him to talk to, the last two hours of Cody’s shift had crawled by. He could have left early—they weren’t all that busy—but unless Frank specifically told him to clock out, Cody kept working, doing the math in his head over and over, trying to determine exactly how much his next paycheck would be worth. It was late October, and the bite of winter was in the air. It was a miracle they hadn’t had snow yet, and all Cody could think about was whether or not this paycheck would give him enough to get a coat.
Not if he wanted a brand-new one from the Sears catalog. He’d need several more weeks for that. He thought of the secondhand shop Nate had taken him to in Rock Springs.
There wasn’t much chance of getting a ride from Nate this time around.
He pushed through the back door of the Tomahawk into the employee parking lot, already reaching for his cigarettes. He was surprised to find Logan there, leaning against the fender of his Camaro and smoking.
“What’re you doing here?”
“Came to give you a ride.”
“Oh.” Logan had given him rides home before, but only when they both got out of work at the same time. Making a second trip back to pick him up was unexpected, but not unwelcome. Sometimes Cody didn’t mind the one-and-a-half-mile walk back home, but he sure wasn’t going to complain about getting to skip it. “Thanks.”
Inside, the Camaro was still warm from the drive over. Cody knew from past trips that Logan didn’t mind people smoking in his car, so he lit one up and cracked the window a bit to let the smoke out.
The engine rumbled to life, and Logan edged them out into the street, turning west. The car had a cassette player, and Logan had some kind of country music on low. Cody wasn’t much into country, but he figured it was better than R.E.M. or Depeche Mode.
“I saw Nate tonight.”
Cody froze, his stomach fluttering. So that’s why Logan had come by—to talk about Nate. Cody kept his eyes averted, staring out the passenger-side window. “So?”
“At the bowling alley.”
That got his attention. His head whipped Logan’s direction. “Nate went to the bowling alley?” He couldn’t even imagine it—Nate walking into that dive, all the burnouts lounging against the video games, smoking so much the ashtrays were overflowing halfway through the night. “Why?”
Logan glanced pointedly his way. “Looking for you.”
Cody’s heart did a funny little dance. He didn’t know if it was from excitement or dread. “What’d he want?”
Logan’s shrug was dramatically casual. “Well, if you had to ask me—and it turns out, you do—I’d say he misses you.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I told you, man. He’s been trying to get your attention in social studies all week.”
Cody turned away to stare out the window again. “Not trying too hard, is he?”
Logan made a snorting, scoffing sound of disgust. “You’re not exactly being fair. You think I don’t notice how hard you work to not see him looking over at you every five minutes? Jesus, he was staring at you so long on Friday, he didn’t even hear the teacher call his name.”
“You’re full
of shit.”
“Yeah. Okay.” But he could hear the amusement in Logan’s voice. “That’s how it is. I’m the one who’s full of shit. You betcha.”
Logan could almost always make him laugh, but not this time. “He has his new friends now. All those assholes from Orange Grove. He’s probably just going to ask me to buy him some beer so he can look cool for Jennifer Parker. He knows Vera will sell to me. Then he and his rich pals can all have a good laugh about it.”
“Jesus. Only you could come up with something so pessimistic, you know that?”
Cody didn’t answer.
“Listen, I’ve been up to the mine with those assholes from the Grove. I’ve been to their parties. I’ve seen Nate there with them. And I know you don’t want to believe me, but he doesn’t fit in with them as well as you think. Hell, he didn’t even last thirty minutes at Jennifer Carrington’s party a couple of weeks ago. Ran out of there like his life depended on it, except, you know, trying to look all casual while he did it.” Logan laughed. “I heard he walked in on Brian and Brad doing lines. I think your boyfriend’s too uptight for that scene.”
Cody turned reluctantly toward Logan again, not wanting to expose too much of himself, but wanting to see Logan’s face so he could judge how much of what he said was true and how much was bullshit. He didn’t even bother to contradict the “boyfriend” remark. “But he’s one of them.”
“He has the clothes, I’ll give you that, but that’s as far as it goes. He always sort of hangs back, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world than where he is.”
Cody hadn’t expected that.
They turned into the trailer park, and Logan slowed the car to a crawl on the speed bumps. Cody tossed his smoke out the window and watched the trailers creep past. They dipped under the train tracks, and Logan braked to a stop outside Cody’s trailer. Cody was already reaching for the handle, anxious to escape their awkward conversation.
“Wait.”
Cody did. It’d be damn rude to do anything else after Logan had gone out of his way just to give him a ride.
“He wants to see you. He wanted me to tell you he’ll meet you tomorrow at noon. He said ‘in the usual place,’ whatever that means.”