Fairy, Texas

by Margo Bond Collins

  “So why weren’t you in class yesterday?” I asked.

  His face grew absolutely expressionless, like someone had flicked a switch and turned it off. “I had some family stuff to tend to.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t know what else to say after that.

  Luckily, the switch in Josh’s face turned back on when he started talking again. “So what’s the rest of your schedule like?” he asked.

  I recited it for him, and he looked disappointed. “English is the only class we have together, then,” he said.

  “Maybe you could join us for lunch,” I suggested.

  He laughed out loud. “You eating with Ally and Natalie and that crowd?”

  “Yes.”

  He shook his head. “Then it’s probably not a good idea. Not my clique.”

  “They’re a clique?”

  He shrugged. “Isn’t everyone in some clique?” We reached the door to the gym. “Besides, I have the second lunch period—I wouldn’t be able to eat with you anyway. So I guess we’ll just have to do something else together.”

  I didn’t know what to say. Was he suggesting a date, or what? I hate it when guys speak “guy” and not English. It’s like it’s their own secret code or something.

  He paused for a moment, and when I didn’t respond, he finally said, “What are you doing after school today?”

  “I’m busy with Mason Collier,” I blurted. Instantly, I wished I could take it back.

  “Oh,” Josh said flatly. “Never mind, then.”

  “I mean, I’ve got to go sell yearbook ads. Mason and I do. Mr. Carlson assigned us to each other. So we have to go sell ads together.” Argh. I was babbling. Get to the point, Laney Harris! “But maybe we could do something later?” God, did I sound too hopeful? I was sure I sounded too hopeful. Too eager. I held my breath while I waited for his response.

  Josh smiled that long, slow smile of his. “Yeah,” he said. “Sure. Something later. Maybe I could come pick you up tonight, around eight?”

  “Okay,” I said, my voice coming out in whoosh. “Do you need directions?”

  He laughed. “To the Hamilton ranch? No. I know where the house is.” He turned around to leave. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  The late bell rang just as I was heading into the locker room to change clothes, but I didn’t care.

  * * * *

  By the time I got to lunch, Andrew was looking morose. From the way everyone suddenly hushed as I sat down, I suspected they’d been talking about me, but I ignored it in favor of general cheeriness.

  “Hey, y’all,” I said. “What’s up?”

  “You tell us,” said Scott.

  Faugh. I knew it. “What do you want to know?” I pulled a sandwich out of my bag.

  “Ally says you’re dating Mason Collier and Josh Bevington,” Natalie said.

  Andrew slumped down even further in his chair.

  “I’m not dating either of them.” Andrew brightened a little, but his face fell again at my next words. “Mason and I are scheduled to sell yearbook ads together. And Josh and I are going out tonight. But I don’t know either of them very well. So I’m not dating anyone.”

  “You’re not dating anyone,” Natalie said. “You’re dating everyone.” She and Scott cracked up laughing. Ally smiled, Andrew sunk lower into his chair, and Sarah watched me quietly with narrowed eyes.

  I rolled my eyes and concentrated on eating my lunch while my new friends speculated on my dating habits. Luckily, there wasn’t that much to say, especially after I repeated “no comment” several times. Eventually the topic of conversation turned to movies, and I was able to actually participate again.

  After lunch, Sarah grabbed my arm as I was tossing my garbage into the can by the door, and held me back while the others moved on ahead of us.

  “Can I talk to you?” she asked, her eyes serious.

  “Of course.”

  “Are you really going out with Josh tonight?” She spoke as quietly as usual.

  “Yes,” I said slowly. “Why?”

  “What time?”

  “Eight.”

  “Do you have a curfew?”

  “Ten-thirty on school nights. You know, we really need to get to history class.” I gestured down the hall.

  “Do you think it would be okay with your mom if I came by your place after you got home from your date with Josh? There’s some stuff . . .” she trailed off.

  This was getting bizarre. But I was drawn in despite myself. Sarah usually seemed so serious, so quiet and calm. Now, however, her voice was beginning to take on an edge—she sounded almost anxious. And her hand had tightened on my arm.

  “Sure,” I said. “That ought to be fine. I can tell her we’ve got some homework to finish or something. If it’s important, I’ll tell Josh I need to be home by ten.”

  “It’s important,” she said, staring into my eyes earnestly.

  “Okay,” I said, still confused.

  “Good,” Sarah said, finally letting go of my arm. We hurried into class and took our seats just before the bell rang.

  So: this afternoon selling ads with Mason. Eight o’clock date—or something—with Josh. Ten o’clock meeting with Sarah. My social calendar was filling up.

  Chapter Four

  There was a funeral for Cody that afternoon. No one really talked about it, but about half the students went, leaving campus silently after lunch and returning for the last classes of the day. I decided once again that this was just about the strangest place I’d ever been.

  Selling yearbook ads with Mason went much as it had the first day—minus the trip to take a mysterious package to a creepy old lady with foul breath. We met up in the yearbook room to check in with Mr. Carlson. Kayla took the opportunity to scowl at me. Big surprise there. But she managed to keep her mouth shut, which really was a surprise. Mr. Carlson stopped me on my way out of the room.

  “Laney? Do you have a camera, or do you need to check out one of the school’s?”

  “I have a pretty good digital that I used for the newspaper in Atlanta,” I said.

  He nodded. “That’ll do for now. Go ahead and start carrying it, would you? That way you can get shots of anything interesting.”

  “Sure.”

  “Do you have a regular thirty-five millimeter camera?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Okay. Hang on for a sec and I’ll get one out for you. And once the semester really gets rolling, we’ll get you up to speed on using the darkroom for black and white film.”

  He unlocked a supply closet at the back of the room and handed me an old-fashioned 35mm camera—the kind with the lens that you have to focus manually—and a roll of black and white film. He deftly popped the back of the camera open and loaded the film into it.

  “You can start taking shots with this, too,” he said as he handed the bulky camera over to me. “Let me know once you’ve used up this practice roll.”

  “Okay. Thanks,” I said.

  “No problem. See you tomorrow.”

  I nodded, and followed Mason out to his truck.

  This time we actually did hit the auto body shops and the hair salons, but since Mason seemed to know pretty much everyone in town, he did most of the talking in both kinds of places. He introduced me, sometimes adding the fact that Mom had married John Hamilton.

  By the end of an hour, we had sold enough ads to call it a day. We climbed into Mason’s truck outside The Hair Saloon. Get it? Texas, saloon. Yee-haw. Sheesh.

  “Sure you don’t want to keep going?” Mason asked.

  “I really need to get home,” I said.

  “Oh. Right. Big date tonight.”

  “Good Lord. Do you people have some sort of secret network for sharing information?”

  He laughed. “Nah. Josh told me.”

  “You and Josh are friends?”

  Mason paused for a moment, then shrugged. “We’ve known each other since before kindergarten. So yeah, I guess we’re friends. Kind of.”

&nb
sp; “Just kind of?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So why would he tell you we were going out tonight?”

  Mason laughed and shook his head. “To lord it over me, of course.” He reached out a hand and twirled a lock of my hair around it. I didn’t move any closer, but I didn’t stop him, either. His voice got quieter and he tilted his head. “Would you be willing to give me a chance, too?”

  I pulled my head back, and my hair slipped through his fingers. “A chance at what, exactly?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Just a date.”

  “Mason, I’m going out with Josh to get to know him. You and I are going to be spending hours and hours together over the next six weeks. I think we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other.”

  “So, is that a no or a yes?”

  “I don’t know. Look. Just take me home for now, and let’s talk about it again later. Okay?”

  He smiled his blinding smile at me. “So it’s a maybe.”

  I sighed. “Yes. It’s a maybe.”

  “Good enough for now.” He put the truck into gear and headed toward John’s ranch.

  * * * *

  I’d like to say that my date with Josh was a smashing success.

  It wasn’t.

  I mean, it wasn’t exactly horrible or anything. It wasn’t a complete disaster, but I kept catching myself staring at him instead of holding up my end of the conversation. And if you think that’s not humiliating, then you’re a complete moron. Much like the same kind of moron I must have seemed to Josh.

  It might not have been so bad if Kayla hadn’t jumped me as soon as Mason dropped me off after school.

  She didn’t even bother to greet me when I came in the door. “Oh, my God,” she said. “Are you really going out on a date with Josh Bevington?” She made a face. “Yuck! Don’t you know who he is?”

  I ignored her and headed toward my room, but she followed me down the hall. Mom and John were nowhere to be seen.

  “His dad works for my dad,” Kayla announced, as if this were somehow important. “He’s a ranch hand’s son,” she stressed when I didn’t answer her. “Like, a total nobody. Taking a few steps down on the social ladder.” She laughed, but it seemed strained. “Guess Mason won’t think you’re so hot now.”

  If I were a better person, I would probably have just kept my mouth shut and closed my bedroom door on her.

  But I’m not really all that good.

  Instead, I turned around in my doorway to face her. “Actually,” I said coolly, “Mason asked me this afternoon if he could have a date with me, too.”

  I swear, Kayla turned purple and sputtered.

  “No great comeback?” I said. “Okay, then. Bye!” And I shut my door.

  I flopped down on my bed, feeling worse than I should have after silencing Kayla.

  Homework. Homework first. That way Mom wouldn’t fuss about me going out tonight.

  I remembered what Mr. Carlson had said about carrying a camera, and started pawing through the stack of still-packed boxes in the corner of my room. I was pretty sure I hadn’t unpacked my digital camera yet. Of course it was in the box at the bottom of the pile. But I found it and dropped it into my backpack alongside the 35mm Carlson had given me.

  I managed to work my way through my homework before dinner. It wasn’t exactly my best work, necessarily, but it was done. Or at least, done enough that I wasn’t lying when Mom asked about it and I said I’d finished. Done enough that she didn’t give me any trouble about making a date on a school night.

  “What do you know about this boy?” was the only thing she asked, and her tone was mild. We were sitting at the kitchen table. John and Mom were eating. Kayla was alternating between scowling at me and picking at her food.

  “His father works for me,” John answered before I could open my mouth. “Josh is a good kid. Helps around the ranch sometimes.”

  And that was all it took. If Josh had John’s stamp of approval, then a school-night date was no problem.

  Note to self: enlist John’s help as often as possible. This having-a-stepfather thing might actually turn out to be handy upon occasion.

  Predictably, Kayla snarled at me as I headed back to my room to get ready for my date.

  So Josh had my stepfather’s recommendation, I had my mother’s blessing to be out on a school night, and my new stepsister would just as soon I go out with Josh if it meant leaving Mason free for her to pursue. I had finished my homework. I had taken extra care with my appearance, dressing in jeans and a tank top with a little sweater. I looked cute-but-not-too-cute, and even put on a little eyeshadow and mascara to go with my usual lip gloss.

  But none of that helped me figure out what to say to Josh. Especially when I think I would have been absolutely content to just sit in the seat next to him, watching him and sighing a lot.

  But that’s not really the kind of behavior that increases your chances for a second date.

  Well… Okay. It might be the kind of behavior that would increase your chances for a second date with some guys. But I didn’t think Josh was one of those types—especially since he kept trying to engage me in conversation.

  And it’s not like I didn’t talk at all. We discussed our favorite bands, movies, television shows—the usual. We both hated the way that emos acted—not that there were all that many of them at Fairy High, but still. We both loved cheesy 80s movies, like Dirty Dancing and Ghostbusters, but hated to admit it. And we were both embarrassed that our parents listened to country music sometimes.

  But I still kept finding myself lapsing into silence and staring at his mutable eyes. They changed color from moment to moment, from silver to blue to green and back again. Then he would blush, then I would blush, and the conversation would come to an abrupt stop.

  One of us would invariably get it going again, but still. Embarrassing.

  All of this happened while we were sipping drinks and sharing french fries at—you guessed it—Sonic. Apparently it was the place to go in Fairy, Texas. Our other option had been to see a movie, but since I’d promised Sarah to meet her at ten, none of the showtimes worked out right. So Sonic it was, and at a little before ten o’clock, he dutifully took me home and walked me to the front door of the ranch house. I wondered for a minute if he was going to kiss me, but he just smiled that amazing smile of his and said, “Good night, Laney. See you tomorrow.”

  He walked back to his car and drove off, down the dirt lane that led from John’s house to the ranch hands’ smaller houses.

  I think I was disappointed.

  Maybe.

  Anyway. Like I said, not a totally horrible date. But not an absolute success, either.

  And guess who was waiting for me when I walked in? Right. Kayla. I was beginning to think that when I wasn’t home, she didn’t do anything but hang out in the living room staring out the window and waiting for my return, just so she could pounce on me.

  “No kiss?” she asked sarcastically when I walked in. “You must be devastated.”

  I ignored her and checked my watch. At almost precisely ten o’clock, I saw headlights pull in through the ranch gate and into the driveway. I opened the door and stepped out to meet Sarah, more to get away from Kayla than anything.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Hi.” She scanned the front of the house anxiously.

  “Want to come in?” I asked.

  “Actually, do you think it would be okay if we went for a walk and talked?”

  “Um. Well, I guess we could. I mean—where are we going?”

  “Oh, not far. We’ll stay on the ranch.” Like that meant anything. John’s ranch had several thousand acres.

  “Sure. Let me just tell my mom.” I ducked my head into the house and called out, “Hey, Mom! I’m going for a walk with Sarah!”

  She leaned out of the kitchen. “This late?”

  “Just for a bit. We’ll stay close to the house.”

  “Hi, Mrs. Hamilton,” Sarah said, stepping up close beh
ind me. “I’m Sarah Watkins.”

  “Hi, Sarah.” Mom waved, then turned to me. “I guess it’s okay. Home in half an hour?”

  “Sure.”

  Once we got back outside, Sarah led me down the road toward the cluster of small houses the full-time ranch hands and their families lived in. We walked for several minutes without speaking until I couldn’t stand it anymore.

  “Okay, Sarah. What’s up? Where are we going?”

  She brushed a lock of light brown hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she said in her quiet voice.

  “Believe what?”

  “Just come with me. And be really, really quiet, okay?”

  I sighed but I kept pace with her. She turned off the unpaved road before we got to the ranch-hands’ houses, and led me down a dirt track until we came to the back of an old, two-storey house made of the white limestone I’d seen everywhere since I’d gotten to Fairy. I remembered the building from the tour John had given me of the ranch. It had been on the land when John bought it; he said he had considered either tearing it down or remodeling it, but hadn’t ever gotten around to doing either. Mom had said it was “picturesque.” Right now, it was looming over me in the darkness . And there was a flickering light coming out of one window.

  Sarah put her hand out to stop me from moving forward and leaned in close to my ear. “Don’t say anything,” she hissed almost inaudibly. She took my hand and led me slowly toward the building.

  As we got closer, I could see that the windows had no glass. I could see shadows crossing the room with the light.

  What would anyone be doing out here at night, anyway? It has to be one of the ranch hands, I told myself.

  We crept up to the side of the building and flattened ourselves against the wall. Sarah crouched down. I followed her lead and we slowly inched our way over until we were both hunkered down under the window sill.

  I could hear quiet voices from the room, but I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying.

  Until someone said my name.

  I looked at Sarah, my eyes big, and she pointed up.

  I nodded and stood up part way until I could just barely see into the building.