by L. J. Stock
“Thirty minutes?”
I nodded in agreement. “I’ll make it work. Are you okay?”
“Hurry.” The request was made in earnest, and he was gone before I could question him further. There was another protest of tires against the asphalt, another cloud of smoke pouring from the wheel wells, followed by the raging howl of his truck as he pushed the machine to go faster than it was capable from a dead standstill.
I watched in the mirror for as long as I could and took off toward Megan’s house with a weight hanging low in my stomach. I barely knew Dustin, and yet I could feel the concern creeping into my consciousness, coiling like a snake ready to strike at any moment. If I had been going anywhere else in the world, I would have turned around and followed him like a little lamb. I wasn’t really sure I liked that thought. I honestly thought I was made of tougher stuff, but even that realization didn’t stop me from pushing my car a little harder and coaxing more speed from the vehicle than I normally did.
When I pulled up in the driveway of the Hern’s home, I found Megan leaning against her dad’s truck while he tinkered under the hood. His work boots were covered in what I could only assume was oil. The moment she saw my car pull in, she pushed off the front fender and walked over to greet me.
“Damn, girl, Rob’s just coming to pick me up. You have rotten timing.”
“Who says I’m here to see you?” I grinned up at her and opened the door, pushing her gently aside as I did. Her rolling eyes were a comforting familiarity these days. So was the hug that followed. Most of the time she was the only human interaction I had.
“Fair warning: Mom’s on the warpath. She heard one of your dad’s friends talking in The Filling Station. They were picking up more beers and talking about finding drugs.”
“As she should be,” Megan’s dad, said, wiping his hands on an oily rag. “That’s no place for a sixteen-year-old girl to be.”
“Hi, Mike.” I grinned at him warmly. I always felt cared for when I was here. “I keep my door locked at all times. They don’t bother me.”
“People get stupid, Miki. Drugs make them stupider.”
“Noted,” I replied. “But you know you and Jen would be the first people I called if something happened.”
He smiled with a nod and turned back to his truck, mumbling about how my dad should have better sense, and that he didn’t know how lucky he was to have a daughter like me. This, too, was familiar to me. Mike constantly mumbled under his breath when he disagreed with something but didn’t want to start a fight. If Jen overheard him, she followed him with a sigh, hollering about still being able to hear him and him being passive aggressive. He always mumbled his displeasure about my dad, which Jen emphatically didn’t complain about.
“Thanks for that, Dad.” Megan rolled her eyes again and looped her arm through mine, leading us both away from her dad, toward the front door. It was when she nudged me into the porch swing that I realized she had more gossip for me.
“What happened now?”
“Erin called me earlier. She said that it’s the absolute truth that Libby was waiting in Dustin’s bed for him, but they got in a fight and Libby called Amy to come and get her. When she showed up, Dustin told her that it was over, that they were through and he didn’t care who she went to homecoming with, but it wasn’t going to be him. Then he slammed the door in her face. Amy said that the moment the door was closed, his daddy was yelling so loud you could hear it two counties over.”
“Want to take a breath there?”
“Oh, hush. This is the biggest news around town right now. Even you look intrigued.”
“I’m actually thinking about straturday.”
“Liar.”
“Meg, I kinda feel bad for the guy. He was cheated on. Talking about it feels like an intrusion.”
“If he hadn’t missed the game…”
“He’s entitled to not play—he’s not under contract. He’s eighteen and in high school. Isn’t there a law against contracts or something? Just think about it from his point of view. All those people looking at you, knowing that the person who was supposed to love you had been with another guy, maybe even a friend? Were they friends?”
Megan shrugged, but the glint of guilt in her eyes made me feel bad for putting it there. She was never malicious about what she told me. What she found out were just facts, but I still couldn’t help feeling like any information gleaned this way was an intrusion.
“You’re right, I would hate that, but they were the most popular couple in school. Everyone knows.”
“I know, and I know you’re just keeping me up to speed. I love you for it. I just hate to think of the two of them hurting. They surely had to love each other at some point.”
A honk of a horn pulled Megan’s attention away from me for a moment. Her face lighting up as Rob’s truck pulled in behind my car. I loved seeing her that happy. Rob adored her and worshiped the ground she walked on, and Megan just plain loved him.
“Can I call you later?” she asked, rising from the swing and waving at Rob to stay in the truck.
“Yeah, but if I don’t answer, I’m either out or have the ringer off. If my dad’s having his friends over…” I didn’t need to finish. Megan knew the drill.
“If they get too loud come over and stay the night. You know you’re always welcome. The good movies are on the top shelf of my closet.” She meant the horror movies we hid from her mom. With a good-natured ruffle of my hair, she grabbed her things and hopped off the porch, running to Rob who was wandering toward her dad. She’d told me once that an open hood was like a magnet to him after he’d restored his old truck with his dad.
The creak of the screen door told me that Jen had joined me on the porch, and I stepped toward her, my arm snaking around her waist in greeting as we watched Megan clambering into the truck and kissing Rob in greeting.
“Do you think she’s having sex?”
“Jen!”
“She’s my baby. I worry.”
I was pretty sure that Jen saw my mom in me. There were times when she would talk to me candidly like this and catch me off guard. I liked to think that she was so used to talking to my mom the same way that chatting with me just came naturally to her. Even when those chats were about topics like sex, I really didn’t mind. It was just a little shocking when I wasn’t expecting them.
Jen looked down at me, her arm wrapping around my shoulder and pulling me closer. “Don’t tell me if she is. I want to be oblivious.”
“Consider it done.”
Jen released a quiet laugh and squeezed me again. “Come on, let’s get your groceries. I want to talk to you about your dad. I heard something today.”
Chapter Three
I didn’t manage the thirty minutes. When Jen was on a rant about my dad—which was more often than not most days—it took me a while to appease her and remind her that I was utterly self-sufficient. I also knew emphatically that I could go to her and Mike if I needed to. It ended up taking me forty-two minutes to get her voice down a couple of octaves, and a pot of sweet iced tea brewed before I could leave. As always, I assured her that I was going to be fine and she was the first number on speed dial if that should change. Jen didn’t need to know that I probably wasn’t going to get my butt home early enough to have to listen to the drunken howls coming from my dad’s living room. I really had been thinking about the straturday broadcast when I’d told Megan that. This was the best night on the radio for me.
When I finally pulled up under my grove of trees, where the smell of dried soil and decomposing leaves filled the air, I parked next to Dustin’s big truck and waited for a couple of minutes to catch my breath before climbing out. It felt like I was on the fringes of a tornado, the wild wind whipping at my clothes and attempting to drag me in, and—whether I wanted to admit the truth to myself or not—in that metaphor, Dustin was the tornado. When I finally unfolded myself and approached his truck, a quick glance in the cab on my tiptoes revealed Dustin curled up i
n his seat, asleep. His dark hair was flat from wearing his cap, which was now on the seat next to him, and his arms were folded tightly over his chest as he folded in on himself. It didn't take a genius to see he'd been through Hell and back all morning. Even in sleep, his tension hung around him like a shroud—lines etched in his forehead as he scowled at the earth. I didn’t have the heart to wake him up from his much-needed slumber, even if this was a bad nap. The gossip mill made it sound like he’d had a shitty day and probably hadn’t had the opportunity to sleep like I had. So I flicked the radio in my car on quietly, turned the dial to a moderate volume, and reached for the book I’d been reading all week before climbing on my hood to wait him out.
I was completely lost in the pages of the story when Dustin finally joined me. I’d all but forgotten that he was sharing the canopy with me, and with the light of the day now fading fast behind the horizon, I realized I'd been there for hours, too.
Plucking my book from my grip, Dustin spun the paperback in his steady hands, careful not to lose my place as he squinted sleepily at the cover before handing it back with a small laugh.
“Big John Grisham fan?” The question was followed by a yawn and twist of his neck.
“I really am. I picked up The Testament accidentally in freshman year and have devoured everything of his since. Have you read any of his stuff?”
Dustin shrugged noncommittally. “I’m more of a horror kind of guy.”
“Oh, I like horror movies, but reading horror stories is totally different. They freak me out. My imagination tends to run away with me, and I start seeing things in the shadows.” I pulled the book back into my lap, slipping the bookmark into place before dropping it between the two of us with a dull thud. I was doing my best to give him time to wake up a little bit, but I was also itching with curiosity as to why he’d asked me to come and meet him—although I was more than happy to share my spot with him if the calm of the place helped him in some way.
“How long have you been here?” he asked, looking at his watch and avoiding my eyes.
“A few hours. I didn’t have the heart to wake you up. I slept all morning, and you looked like you hadn’t slept at all.”
“I hadn’t.” He rubbed his hands over his head, suddenly realizing he was missing his cap. I don’t think I’d ever seen him without it. The bent, out of shape Childress High baseball cap was one of those things that were always with him – an identifier of sorts. Me? I had my favorite pair of Vans, which were battered, beaten, and dirtier than they should be, but they were comfortable. Dustin was just as less likely to grow out of his hat. Turning to look at the truck, he clearly considered going to collect it before dropping back on his elbows and shaking his head, almost as though he was dispelling the notion. Apparently, he wasn’t in the mood to get up. Instead, he turned his eyes to me and studied my face. My skin heated under his scrutiny, and my heart pounded against my ribs as the air between us grew thicker and heavier in a way I had no words to describe. I rarely spoke to people outside of Megan and her mom, so this kind of intensity felt alien enough to create a discomfort, which forced me to fidget and drop my gaze to the ends of my hair that were hanging loosely around me.
“Bad day?” I finally asked.
“The worst. I knew I was gonna catch hell when I got back, but that was just…” He trailed off and shrugged like the drama meant nothing at all. I knew what he’d gone through was much more than that, but I stayed quiet and let him gather his thoughts. “I was ready to walk out ten minutes into the lectures. I didn’t because it would make things worse. Through all of the shit they threw at me, all of the lectures and fights, all I could think about was last night, and you, until their voices faded into droning noises that were more manageable. The point is, Miki, I don’t think anyone has ever just talked to me like that before. When it was all said and done, and the dust settled, this was the only place I wanted to be.”
“I’m more than happy to share all this with you,” I said, smiling and flinging my hands up to showcase the area. “You don’t need me—”
“With you. Here,” he clarified before I could finish. My hands dropped into my lap, and I could feel his eyes burning onto the side of my head as he waited for my response. Dustin had probably never been rejected before in his life, and from the intense way he was squeezing one of his fists with his other hand; he’d considered that I was capable of turning him down.
The teenage girl that still resided in the core of me jumped up and squealed with absolute joy. This handsome and popular guy actually wanted to spend time with me—the girl who our peers rarely acknowledged. Unfortunately, the more mature part of me—the bit that existed because of the life that had been forced upon me—reminded myself that he was vulnerable and hurting right now, and I was simply a shoulder for him to lean on, an ear to bend, and an objective voice of reason. All of the things I offered freely, but they weren’t a foundation to build any kind of relationship on. I couldn’t be his safety net when I had too much baggage of my own.
“Dustin, I—”
“No. Please… Just hear me out.”
I nodded for him to go on.
“I’m not an idiot. I realize I just broke up with the girl I’ve been dating since I was eleven. I’ve quit the football team and defied my dad’s orders. I know things are really shit right now, and I’m not proposing we start dating or even have a serious relationship, but what about a friendship? You know… hanging out like we are now?”
I could feel my cheeks heating and dropped my chin so I was looking at the paint chip on the hood. Of course, my own assumptions had been ridiculous—what could he have possibly seen in me other than friendship? I should have figured that out before I’d tried to talk him out of dating me like an absolute idiot. At least he’d saved me from making a complete ass of myself. I’d never been more grateful for my lack of loquaciousness than I was at that very moment. Although saying as little as I had didn’t stop me from feeling like a fool, and it didn’t stop the very real ache of disappointment from curling up and settling into my gut for the long haul.
“Hey… you weren’t wrong,” he said, placing his hand on top of mine, his tone offering some thin veil of validation when I hadn’t known the barest hint of calm was possible. When I didn’t look up at him, he lifted my chin so I couldn’t avoid his eyes. “I really like you, Miki. I like the way I can talk to you and not second guess myself because I’m worried you’re judging me, or that you’ll tell anyone else everything I said to gain popularity. I like the way you look at me when I’m talking because you want to read my expressions so you really understand what I’m feeling. I like your crazy taste in music and the way you come to life when you talk about the things you love. The problem is, I don’t like myself right now, and I need to figure shit out before I drag anyone else into my fucked up world with any level of permanence. I’m offering friendship because I’m too selfish to leave you alone or lose your companionship.”
“You don’t know me that well, though.”
“So, you’re telling me everything I just said is wrong?”
“Not even a little bit,” I answered honestly, my head lifting and leaving the light touch of his fingers behind. “I just didn’t think—”
“That I would have noticed?”
“That I’d shown you that much of myself,” I clarified, my fingers closing around his outstretched wrist and pulling our hands down between us.
“See, even then there was no judgment. Just curiosity.”
I swallowed and fought my natural inclination to drop my eyes again. The moment was intense, and I could feel the elevated beat of my heart in my temples as my eyes flickered to his lips and an idle thought of whether or not he was a good kisser sprinted through my head.
“My friendship is yours. You had it anyway.”
We stared at one another for longer than felt natural. Dustin dragging my attention back to his lips as he dragged his stubby thumbnail along his plump bottom lip in slow curved l
ines. The music stopped the quiet from taking over completely, but the ballads that were being belted from my crappy little radio didn’t drain the growing intensity between us. I knew I needed to do something to break the moment before we took a path we couldn’t come back from.
“Are you hungry?” I asked, rolling away and landing on my feet like a cat, the small dust cloud from the dry summer earth drifting around my ankles.
“You brought supplies this time?”
“Mostly a coincidence, but yes.” I grinned, heading to the cooler I kept in my trunk. I popped the lid open and glanced around the side of my trunk at him. “If you’re good, you can have ice cream for dessert.”
After a prompt like that Dustin didn’t take long to join me at the back of the car. He leaned over and checked all the bags, his smile growing with each new discovery. “Why do you have so much food in your car? Did I hijack you on your way home from the grocery store?”
I scratched my eyebrow thoughtfully and looked up at him. I’d told him so much of my life already, what I offered wasn’t a question of trusting him anymore. There was no point in hiding things like this. Each aspect he discovered was my life, and if he planned on being a friend, he’d discover all those little elements eventually.
“Megan Hern’s mom buys me groceries every week. She was my mom’s best friend, and she’s also my godmother. She knows my dad doesn’t have food in the house, so she bought me a mini fridge and she buys me groceries. She also employs me in her office over the summer and on some weekends… and after school when it’s needed. She gives me a place to stay when I need it, and a shoulder to cry on when it all gets a little too much.”
“Nice lady.”
“The best,” I agreed, reaching for the bread and cold cuts. “She also made my dad build me an en-suite bathroom.”
“You have your own private entrance, too?”
“It’s called my bedroom window,” I confirmed, squeezing mustard on a slice of bread and rubbing it against the other to cover both slices. I slapped some meat and cheese in between them and handed the final product to Dustin. He was watching me curiously. “What?”