Copyright © 2016 H. Claire Taylor
www.hclairetaylor.com
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
Dedication
Thanks be to Michael Anderle, who helped me spread the gospel, and to Alyssa Archer, who helped me make sure the gospel didn’t suck.
And, of course, the Almighty Comedian, who seems stretched a little thin these days.
AGC 16
Midway through dragging the straightening iron down a chunk of her ash brown hair, Jessica McCloud paused to focus on the voice coming through the television in the living room. She recognized the speaker instinctively, despite how long it’d been since she’d last spoken with him in person. Maybe that had to do with the fact that it was one of the first voices she’d ever heard. Maybe that was why it was lodged in the recesses of her mind like a piece of spinach between unbrushed teeth.
A rancid burning smell reminded her of what she was doing. “Shit!” She pulled the iron the rest of the way down the strand and then dodged out of the bathroom and into the dim living room.
The first thing her eyes landed upon, though, was Destinee and Coach Rex on the couch, his arm slung over the back and around her mother’s shoulder, both sets of eyes glued to the television, their after-dinner Dos Equis still nearly full, sweating and forgotten on the TV tray in front of them.
“What’s he doing on the news?” asked Jessica, positioning herself next to the couch to get a better look.
Destinee shushed her. “Just watch.”
Jimmy’s face smiled back from the TV. His teeth looked whiter since the last time she’d seen him, and she suspected that was from no lack of effort on his part. With the money he was pulling in now from his religious endeavors, he could afford the best teeth whitening Midland had to offer, she was sure. His hair, though, looked just the same, slicked back into a perfectly gelled swoop that never moved but somehow also looked natural and like it’d been styled by the hand of God Himself. Of course Jessica knew for certain that wasn’t the case.
“… And so it seemed there was really only one thing that I, a humble servant of the Lord, could do to put the God back in government.”
“Put the God back in government?” Jessica echoed. “I thought He was never supposed to be there in the first—”
“Shh!” Destinee hissed. “Listen.”
“So on this glorious Texas day in May, before all of you, many of whom have been loyal members of the White Light congregation for years, I’m officially announcing my candidacy for Mayor of Midland, the greatest city in the greatest state in the greatest country of the world. No questions please. Thank you.” And just like that, Jessica felt nauseated.
Jimmy was making a play—there was no doubt in her mind about that—but she had absolutely no idea what the play actually was.
I should have spent more time learning chess.
“So is this bad?” Coach Rex asked hesitantly.
THIS GUY. WHAT AN IDIOT.
Hush!
“Yeah,” Destinee said. “It’s bad.”
Rex nodded slowly like he understood, then said, “So it’s bad because …”
Destinee sighed. “God only knows.” Then it seemed to occur to her what she’d said and she turned to Jessica. “Does He know?”
Do you know why this is bad?
OF COURSE.
Why is it bad?
BECAUSE JIMMY IS THE WORST.
Could you be more specific?
DO YOU WANT ME TO SPOIL THE ENDING FOR YOU?
She thought about the last divine spoiler he’d given her, how it’d left her stomach churning and her heart racing for the duration of the state championship, how she’d developed severe acid reflux in the days following the victory—though perhaps that was more from the fallout of kicking a hundred-yard field goal and kissing two different boys in the course of one evening on what turned out to be a national stage than it was from God’s spoiler.
Six in one hand, half a dozen in the other, really.
No. Please don’t.
She returned her attention to her mother, who was waiting patiently. Rex seemed concerned. He was still having difficulty adjusting to Jessica’s regular mental lapses while she spoke to her Father. “He said it’s bad because Jimmy is the worst.”
“Amen,” Destinee said. “At least He’s got that right.”
REMIND HER OF THE MANY THINGS I GOT RIGHT THE NIGHT WE MET.
Nope. Go away.
TELL HER.
Isn’t one of your commandments about jealousy?
COVETING. AND SHE’S NOT HIS WIFE, THANK ME. BESIDES, THAT DOESN’T APPLY TO ME BECAUSE I AM GOD.
So you keep saying.
SO YOU KEEP FORGETTING.
I wish.
Jessica headed back into the bathroom to finish her hair and put on a touch of mascara before she left for the night. There were a million ways Jimmy could use politics against her (and she had no doubt that was part of whatever dangerous web he was spinning), so there really wasn’t a point in worrying about it yet, especially when she had more immediate things occupying her mind …
To say she was nervous about attending her first kegger would be a gross understatement akin to saying Jesus had an okay pain tolerance or Moses had a poor sense of direction. Junior year had been such a whirlwind of football, media (mis)management, AP classes, and, whenever she had time, trying to maintain relationships, that parties never quite made it onto her radar. The busyness had served her well, though, when it came to avoiding drama. Sandra and Courtney and even Greg had tried to start it multiple times, prodding her with rumors and admittedly creative accusations to get a response, but she’d been too preoccupied to ever address the nonsense, so nothing had stuck. Finally her antagonizers gave up on using her as a source of sadistic entertainment and simply began ignoring her, which Jessica much preferred.
A knock on the front door pulled her from her anxious preening, and she heard her mother casually greeting Chris.
Best not to leave him alone with Destinee and Rex too long, though, so she hurriedly brushed her teeth, grabbed her shoes, and ran out into the living room to meet him.
“Hey.” He looked her up and down and grinned. “You look … pretty.”
Pretty? She wanted to look hot. But maybe that’s what he meant.
“Now remember,” Destinee said in a lecturing tone that sounded one hundred percent synthetic, “no drunk driving.”
Rex added, “Or tipsy driving.”
Destinee’s head hitched slightly to the side. “Well … Yeah, probably that too. But you don’t want to be a square at the party.”
“Pretty sure God’s got me covered,” Jess said, itching to get out the door so she could, firstly, not have to worry about something embarrassing that would come out of her mother’s mouth, and secondly, make out with Chris, who she hadn’t seen in a good twenty-four hours since school let out for summer the day before.
“Be that as it may,” Destinee said, “you can still get in a heap of trouble getting caught, even if you don’t hurt nobody.”
“I understand,” Chris said. “You don’t have to worry about it.”
Destinee nodded, pacified, and Jess took that as her opportunity to herd Chris out the door.
“Oh wait!” said Destinee before they could even take two steps. “Wait here.” She hurried into the kitchen and then came back out with a twelve-pack of Dos Equis cans. “You don’t want to be the asswipes who show up without anything.”
Jess shut her eyes. This was that embarrassing thing she’d tried to avoid; she
just hadn’t known it would take this form. She sighed and looked at Chris. He didn’t seem embarrassed at all. “Thanks, Mrs. McCloud!” He stepped up and grabbed the case from her, grinning widely.
“Uh,” spoke Rex from the couch, “I hate to be the one to say this …”
Destinee turned toward him. “Then don’t.”
“But the football team has a strict no-alcohol policy.”
She threw her fists onto her hips. “Is it football season?”
“Uh, no. But I mean …”
She waved him off and then turned back to Jessica and Chris. “Go have fun. Tell Colton I said congrats, too.”
“Will do,” Chris said, but Jessica knew it probably wouldn’t happen. From what she’d heard of Colton’s graduation party, everyone from Mooremont and their cousins would be there. Chris and Jessica would be lucky if they even got a word in with Colton the whole night.
Chris opened the door and headed out toward his truck, and Jess paused when Destinee whispered her name. She turned back to look at her mother, wondering what it could be now.
“You got your …” Destinee made a ring with the thumb and pointer finger of her right hand and then poked the pointer finger of her left hand through it.
It took a second, but once she realized that her mother was pantomiming rolling a condom on a penis, her eyes darted over to Coach Rex. He squinted, still puzzling over the gesture. Jess shot her mom a harsh look and waved for her to put her hands down. “Yes. You put them in my purse this morning.”
Destinee nodded. “Oh, that’s right. Almost forgot.”
Jess hadn’t forgotten. Not that she would need condoms with Chris. Not yet, at least. Though she didn’t know how much longer the center would hold on that.
She’d hardly set her purse down on the floorboards before Chris grabbed her and pulled her in for a kiss. After almost a year and a half, simply making out with him was still good enough for her. She was about seventy percent sure it was still good enough for him, too.
When he finally disengaged, he breathed in deeply and said, “I’ve missed you. I almost wish we didn’t have to go to this party so I could have you all to myself.”
Jess laughed. “We better get going. Miranda’s gonna be pissed if we pick her up late again.”
Chris frowned slightly, his brows pinching together as he shook his head. “No, we’re not picking her up.”
“I thought we were.”
“No. I texted her to ask, but she already has a ride. Figured you knew.”
“With who?”
“Quentin.”
“Quentin Jones.”
“Yep.”
Jessica leaned back in her seat, staring vaguely ahead. “Huh.”
“That’s what I said, too.”
So maybe she hadn’t kept up with Miranda the past few weeks like she should have. She’d have to ask her once they arrived at the party. And speaking of which …
“You ever been to one of Colton’s famous bonfires?” she asked.
Chris shook his head. “Nope.”
“I don’t know why,” she said hesitantly, “but I’m kind of nervous.”
She’d expected his reply to be the usual confident chuckle, followed by an assurance that he wouldn’t let anything happen. But instead what he said was, “Yeah, me too.”
The F-350 crunched the gravel beneath its tires as it prowled down the Brookses’ private drive. The ranch house came into view, backlit by the legendary bonfire that had been the setting for some of Mooremont’s best rumors and gossip. Jess had never seen it herself, but if the intensity of the glow was any indication, it was just as large as everyone described it.
The truck turned sharply to the side and jolted to a skidding stop as Chris sucked in air. Jess jerked her head forward just in time to see the reason for the sudden veering.
“Oh shit. Is that Stephanie Lee?” Chris said a moment after the girl stumbled out of the path of the headlights that cut through the dust swirling in the still night air.
Jess squinted to get a better look. “A drunk version of her, at least.”
“I almost killed her.”
“Glad you didn’t.” Despite Stephanie preferring the company of Sandra, Emma, and Courtney, she herself wasn’t all that bad. Sure, she would smirk along with Courtney’s frequent disses and giggle when Sandra hissed mean things about Jessica into her ear. But it still wasn’t enough to leave Jess wishing Chris would take the girl out with his death machine of a truck. Plus, running over the only Asian student at Mooremont would most definitely be considered a hate crime, regardless of the circumstances. The last thing Jessica needed in her life right now was the judicial system.
As they pulled around the circular drive toward where the rest of the trucks and a Prius were parked, Jess got her first actual glimpse of the raging bonfire where dozens of silhouettes she couldn’t identify wandered back and forth in what appeared to be an entirely aimless pattern.
“This is like … a lot of people,” she said hesitantly. Her aversion to crowds had only intensified in the past year as the news coverage of her life increased and people at Mooremont became more polarized as to whether she was the embodiment of good or evil. She longed for the days when most people were still on the fence about it.
“You’ll be fine,” Chris said. The confidence was back, but his words still lacked the necessary gusto to make them entirely believable.
He turned off the engine and climbed out, circling around to her side to open her door and help her down. Weaving her fingers with his, she followed a step behind him but only made it a few feet before she heard someone holler her name.
“Is that McCloud? And goddamn if that ain’t Riley, too!” Colton shoved a girl that Jess didn’t know off his lap where he sat on the rear bumper of a truck, and jogged over to them.
Chris held out the twelve-pack of Dos Equis. “We brought something. Happy graduation from Destinee McCloud.”
Colton gasped and covered his heart with both hands. “It’s exactly what I wanted!” He looked at Jess. “Your mom’s still single, right?”
Jessica rolled her eyes. “You’ll have to fight Coach Rex for her.”
He inhaled like he was actually considering it. “Worth it.”
“Don’t think she’ll mind?” Chris said, motioning at the girl who stood by the truck, waiting impatiently to pick up where she and Colton had left off.
He turned to see who Chris was referring to, then waved her off. “Psh. Nah. I can’t shake that one, to be honest.”
“She from Mooremont?” Jess asked.
“Mooremont? No. Elbow.”
“Elbow?” Chris said hesitantly. “You sure you want to mess around with an Elbow girl? You know they have a reputation.”
“Hey,” Colton cut in quickly. “Easy with the slut shaming. That’s my cousin you’re talking about.”
“Your cousin?” Jess said, hoping she’d misheard.
Colton shrugged. “Well, second cousin, I think. Listen, I’m probably not gonna bang her.” He took the beer from Chris’s arms and motioned for them to follow. “Keg’s inside.”
Not only was the keg inside, but so were probably seventy people, only some of whom Jess recognized from Mooretown. She kept her head down as she followed Chris who followed Colton, snaking through the musty crowd, and hoped that no one would notice her, thereby minimizing the odds for conflict. Why had she even bothered to come? What made her think a party with everyone she knew could be anything other than a bad idea? Maybe even the worst idea?
They’d just made it into the kitchen when a familiar face caught her attention.
“Miranda!”
Her best friend braced a hip against the counter as she faced Quentin, who was less than a foot away, his back to Jessica. He was leaning forward, his gaze aimed down toward Miranda who was tall for a girl, but still not close to Quentin’s height. Jessica immediately recognized his posture as one she’d seen from Miranda’s current perspective many times during her
fake relationship with him.
“Miranda!” Jess called again, and that seemed to snap her out of her trance. She looked over at Jessica and her face lit up.
“Jess! I wondered when you were coming!” She hustled over and gave her a hug, but before Jess released her, she whispered into Miranda’s ear, “Why didn’t you tell me about Quentin?”
Miranda chuckled and pulled away, back to her new fling. “It’s recent, don’t worry. We started talking at the athletic banquet on Tuesday.”
Jess nodded and grinned. “Okay then.”
“He’s leaving for UT in a few months, so it’s nothing serious,” Miranda added.
Jess held up her hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m not judging. He was a fun fake boyfriend.”
Even just seeing Miranda—and Quentin, too, actually—helped to calm Jess’s nerves.
“Here.” She turned at the sound of Chris’s voice behind her to find him extending a Solo cup of beer her way. What kind of beer? Probably didn’t matter.
She drank it as quickly as she could.
Quentin sauntered over. “Jessica McCloud! My favorite child of God!” He grabbed her and pulled her in for a hug, planting a sloppy kiss on her cheek. He pulled back slightly and mumbled, “He doesn’t mind if I say that, right?” His eyes flickered up toward the ceiling.
“No, I think it’s fine.”
Quentin nodded and stepped back, and Jessica glanced over at Chris. When she saw that he was laughing at Quentin’s display, she was able to relax a little herself.
“This joker still treating you right?” Quentin asked, nodding at Chris.
Chris threw him a middle finger.
Jess grinned as she felt the first effects of the beer start to relax the muscles around her lips. “Yeah, he’s all right, I guess.”
Quentin pointed at Chris. “Better stay that way. If I have to drive my black ass back from Austin to this shitty, racist town to beat your ass, Riley, I’m gonna make it count.”
Chris chuckled. “Easy there. And don’t you think that her Father probably has the ass beating covered if I fuck up?”
It's a Miracle! Page 1