by LP Tvorik
At that, a ball of dread dropped into my stomach and I sank back against the pillows, shaking my head.
“I don’t really want to go back,” I said, voicing worries that had been building up for the last few days, turning to a thick stew of apprehension. “The rumor mill must be having a field day with this.”
“Yeah,” Nate sighed, and my nerves tripled in volume, twanging away like an off-tune symphony. When he met my eyes, his were full of worry and regret. “Everyone knows about us now, Al. That’s my fucking fault, too. I’m really sorry.”
I frowned, confused. “How is it your fault?” I asked, nonplussed. “I’m the one who fell out of the stupid tree.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face and shook his head, looking up at the ceiling. “I kinda freaked out,” he said, lowering his gaze back to mine, his eyes pained. “When the cops took me, I panicked and told them the truth instead of just keeping my fucking mouth shut. They told Tim— that’s my foster dad— they told him everything and he came home ranting and raving about it. Deb heard and she told her friends and now everyone fucking knows.”
My brain took a second to process his words and their implication.
Everyone knew. Everyone knew. Everyone knew that dumbass Aly Winger had put out in the middle of the night in the middle of the woods and then fallen out of a damned tree like some kind of demented sloth. I covered my eyes with my good hand, trying not to cry.
How could I ever go back? I’d be the butt of every joke. The hot topic of every gossip circle. I didn’t know what was worse— imagining what the girls would say about me, or imaging what the guys would do. Suddenly the thought of staying on the couch for all eternity like my father clearly intended didn’t sound so bad at all.
“Al,” Nate said hesitantly, his voice an unwelcome lifeline, pulling me back to a reality in which I wanted no part. “Al, c’mon, it’ll be okay.”
“How?” I moaned, looking up at him and trying like hell not to cry.
He frowned, his eyes pained, but the set of his jaw and the tone of his voice were pure determination. “We’ll fix it,” he said, nodding as if to affirm his own words. “They’ll be obsessed with the story for a couple days, but they’ll lose interest. We can publicly break up if you want. You can even slap me or something, but it’s gotta be with the good arm. If you hit me with the cast you might knock me out.”
He smiled at his own joke, but I scowled, suddenly furious.
“Are you serious?” I hissed, shoving at him. “You think that’s what I’m worried about?”
He frowned. “Isn’t it?”
“No!” I said, so loud I heard the sink turn off in the kitchen and knew my father was listening in. I lowered my voice to a fierce whisper. “No!” I repeated, glaring at him. “I don’t care if they know I’m seeing you. I care that they know we had sex in the middle of the woods, Nate! The girls are all gonna think I’m some kind of whore, and the guys... “ I shuddered, imagining what nasty things the guys would think and say.”
One of the reasons I hated— and loved— Nate so much was that he never reacted the right way. When I expected him to laugh, he got serious. When I expected him to be sad, he made jokes. When I expected anger, I got sweet words, and when I expected sweet words, I got kissed and caressed until my blood turned to liquid fire.
That day, I expected somber commiseration with the unfortunate state of my tattered reputation. Instead, I got a bright smile that made his eyes dance.
“Alex,” he said, trying to smother his smile in serious words and failing miserably. “This is like the bullies, remember? Fuck ‘em. The girls who spend their time making up shit about other girls aren’t worth your time. And any guy who opens his mouth about you is gonna wake up in the ER, preferably with no memory of how he got there. And none of that even really matters, because nobody knows what we were doing. They just know we were together. Beyond that, they’ll think what we want ‘em to think.”
From anyone else, the words would’ve been trite and worthless. Nate, though? I trusted him with all the fervency that young love dictates. If Nate looked me in the eye and told me aliens had invaded earth I’d have packed up my bags and done whatever he said it would take to survive.
When Nate held my hand with bruised fingers, studied me through blackened eyes, and parted split lips to tell me his foster father grounded him? Well, hindsight might be 20/20, but young love and ignorance make a smudged and distorted lens. I believed him.
Such was the extent of my faith, that relief spread through me, making me sleepy, and I relaxed against the pillows, drowsy-eyed and smiling.
“You need rest,” Nate said, leaning forward and brushing a chaste kiss over my cheek.
“Can you stay?” I asked. I sounded like a little kid— whiny and needy— but he just smiled and shook his head, pushing to his feet.
“Nah, I gotta head out. I’m not even supposed to be here. Tim is gonna… Oh, hey, you never told me. What day do you go back to school?”
“Next Monday,” I told him, a shadow of lingering dread creeping up from my gut and into my throat.
“Okay,” he answered, smiling down at me. “I’ll be here on Monday morning to pick you up. We’ll show up together. You gotta lean into your scandalous new reputation as a girl with a boyfriend.” The grin he flashed at me melted my dread to a puddle of warm gooiness that oozed from my chest out into my limbs. Then the grin turned to a smirk, cocky and self-assured, and that warm goo began to spark with something livelier. “Plus, I’m pretty hyped to show up with you on my arm. I dunno if you know this, angel, but you’re kinda out of my league.”
I rolled my eyes at that, trying to hide the fact that I wanted to drag him down onto the couch with me. In spite of my father’s revelation, that kind of behavior would still invite a sermon that I didn’t want.
“I’ll see you on Monday,” I said, trying to hide my grin.
“Love you, Al,” Nate said, stooping to give me one more kiss. It was barely more than a peck, but it left my lips tingling, yearning for more.
“Love you, too,” I whispered, watching him leave.
Daddy came in a few minutes later, handing me a bowl of soup and sinking into the armchair beside me. He stared thoughtfully at the entryway while I ate.
“You know I’d prefer you were single,” he said, giving me a stern look that didn’t reach his eyes.
“I know,” I said, swallowing a spoonful of soup and smiling. “Too bad I’ve got a boyfriend.”
“You know I’ll kill him if he hurts you,” he threatened emptily. “I don’t care if it’s a sin. I’ll string him up and cut his heart out, sugar.”
“I know,” I laughed, following his gaze to the entryway. A strange, uneasy sadness began to form over my head as I tried to conjure up a scenario in which Nate would willingly hurt me. I couldn’t think of a single one. “I think he’d let you.”
Chapter fifteen
nate
What kind of loser wakes up happy?
I usually woke up pissed off at something. Sometimes it was anger at whatever ghost had visited me in my dreams. Sometimes I was wrapped up in what had happened the night before and sometimes I was worried about what the day would bring. The reasons changed, but I always woke up angry.
Not that Monday, though. That Monday I woke up with a shit-eating grin on my face and a bubble of something I couldn’t identify— I’d later come to realize it was sheer pride and happiness— expanding in my chest.
That Monday, I woke before my alarm and fixed breakfast for the kids. Usually I just poured some cereal in a bowl and called it good. That morning, they had bacon and eggs— purchased not stolen, thank you very much. I even made enough for Tim and Marsha, and we sat around the wobbly kitchen table and ate like some kind of family. A demented kind of family, where the little kids cringe when the adults reach for the salt and the oldest daug
hter won’t stop glaring at the oldest son.
After breakfast, Deb and I got the little kids ready for school and bustled them off to the bus stop with Ronnie. Then Deb marched off without a backwards glance, but I couldn’t even bring myself to worry what stick she had up her ass.
I had to coax my beat-up old truck into turning over, but that Monday the awful clunking sound and the heady smell of diesel didn’t bother me.
I pulled up outside Alex’s house five minutes early, and there followed one of the greatest moments of my life. My girl— my girl— opened her front door, morning sun shining on her face, walked down her drive, and climbed into my car. My car. Finally, at long last, we were together in the light of day and let me tell you— Alex in the sunshine is blinding.
Those first few minutes, it was almost like we didn’t know each other.
“Hey,” I greeted as I pulled out onto the road, my heart hammering in my chest like I was picking up some girl I’d never met.
“Hi,” Alex answered, equally awkward. She fidgeted with her bag and stared out the window.
“How are you feeling?” The bruise on her forehead was a fun combination of yellow and green, and she wore a small white bandage over the row of stitches. Her cast was covered in doodles, mostly by Tom, but all the rest of her was just as prim and proper as it ever was in the daylight. She wore dark black jeans and a loose white shirt. Her hair hung in shiny curls that I longed to run my hands through.
And why couldn’t I?
Glancing between her and the road, I reached out and combed the hair away from her face. “Al?” I asked, brushing my thumb over her jaw. “Are you okay?” She’d never answered my original question.
“Yeah, I’m good.” She flashed me a weak, fake smile. “I’m just nervous.”
“Don’t be nervous,” I said, placing both hands on the wheel. “I’m a good driver, I promise.”
She reached out and slugged me in the arm with her cast. “You know that’s not what I mean. Although you are speeding.”
I glanced at the speedometer. “Five miles over isn’t speeding, Al.”
“It’s over the speed limit, therefore it’s speeding,” she argued.
“Christ. Are you telling me you drive exactly the speed limit everywhere you go?”
“Of course! We’re not all hardened criminals, Nate. Some of us abide by the law.”
I groaned dramatically, shaking my head. “Remind me never to let you drive. Ever.”
“Well you won’t have a choice after they take your license away for reckless driving.”
Just like that we were back to normal.
‥ ‥ ‥
Alex was surprisingly confident when we pulled into the parking lot, hopping out of the car before I had a chance to do all that chivalrous, door-holding bullshit I wanted so badly to do for her.
My friends stood in a gaggle by Kevin’s shitty old station wagon, and they fell silent when Alex met me in front of my truck and took my hand without hesitating. None of them had really believed that the rumors were true. Except Deb, of course. She knew and, for some reason, it pissed her the hell off. The rest of our friends stood in slack-jawed awe as Al and I walked past them toward the school. Deb glared, leaning against the hood of Kev’s car, gnawing on a wad of gum, arms crossed beneath her boobs, which damn near spilled out of her tank top.
I’d have to talk to her at some point. As much as Deb pissed me off, she was family and the rift between us was killing me. Later, though. Deb could wait, because Al was tugging me along toward school, her hand steady in mine and a look of fierce determination on her face.
It was still warm, so students gathered in the grassy area in front of the school, clumped into cliques and clusters while they waited for the bell to ring. The second we rounded the corner, conversation ceased. It was as if we’d sucked the air right out of the yard. Their faces all turned to us as one, eyes wide and expectant. What did they think we were gonna do? Start fucking right there in the grass?
Not a terrible idea.
“C’mon,” Alex grumbled angrily, quickening her step. Instead of fleeing into the relative sanctity of the school like I expected, she dragged me to an unoccupied spot by the wall. She dropped her bag and sat down, leaning back against the brick.
“Uh…” I looked around. “What are you doing?”
“I always sit here and read before the bell,” she said. The front of the school faced east, so she was squinting up at me in the bright yellow of the morning sun. She raised her good hand, blocking it. “Are you gonna join me or not?”
Grinning, I dropped my own bag and slid down the wall beside her. “When did you get so chill?” I asked under my breath as she pulled a book out of her bag. Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad. One of our books for AP Lit, but we weren’t going to hit it for months. She must be reading ahead. What a nerd.
“The branch I hit must have jolted something loose,” she said, bumping my shoulder with hers. “Or maybe you did?”
That unfamiliar swelling sensation in my chest grew even more pronounced, until I felt like I couldn’t breathe past it. The stupid, shit-eating grin was back too. Trying to hide it, I pulled out my own book and flipped it open, trying to concentrate on the words and not the fact that I was living in a goddamned fantasy.
“Hey Nate?” Alex asked after a few minutes. I looked up from the page, which I’d read twenty times and still hadn’t absorbed.
“Yeah?”
“What’re you reading?”
“Cat’s Cradle,” I said, showing her the cover. I liked Kurt Vonnegut. He was pessimistic as hell, but his words made me laugh. I liked that back then, when I was laughing my way through hell as a matter of course.
“That’s not on the reading list,” Alex said, frowning. I could see the lecture bubbling inside her, and I didn’t even try to stop it. I loved the way her brow furrowed and her voice got hard when she was berating me. It was evidence that she cared. To most everyone else, she was sweet-as-can-be. Not to me.
“I know,” I said, goading her.
“We have the test on Wuthering Heights today,” she hissed, clearly starting to panic on my behalf. “Nate you already sleep through the whole period. Mrs. Parker is going to kick you back to general if you don’t do the readings.”
“Who said I didn’t do the readings?” I asked, making a show of going back to my book. It was rare I had the opportunity to show Alex up. I was going to milk it for all it was worth.
“Did you do the readings?”
“Finished them over the summer,” I said, glancing over to see her face. She stared at me, one finger stuck in her book to mark her page.
“Don’t mess around,” she said, clearly frustrated. There was a pencil in her hair, because Alex loved to annotate her books. It felt like blasphemy to me to mark up someone else’s writing, but she’d underline passages and make notes in the margins, pouring her soul into the space between the lines. Someday I wanted to see those notes and discover what passages she’d found especially poignant. There was one, in Heart of Darkness, I knew she’d have noted and taken to heart.
“‘Even extreme grief may ultimately vent itself in violence—” I quoted, lifting my chin into the air and grinning smugly, “but more generally takes the form of apathy.’”
Alex’s mouth hung open as she flipped through her copy of the book, frantically trying to find a page while I watched. Sure enough, that passage was underlined in heavy black pencil with a scribbled, cursive note in the margin.
When she looked back at me, she was scowling. “You let me believe you were flunking the course,” she said. “I’ve been worried all year.”
“We’re like two months into the year, angel,” I teased. “That’s not that long.”
“Still!” she exclaimed, smacking me in the leg with her book. “Why didn’t you tell me you were reading ahe
ad, too? We could have read the books together and talked about them.”
I thought of sitting with Alex at the spot, or out here in the shade of our brick school building, pouring over literature and discussing what we loved and hated— what resonated with our lives and what confused us. I’d learn so much about her, that way.
Damn. When had I become such a fucking nerd?
“You’ve already read everything on the list?” Alex asked, and I nodded reluctantly. I wanted to lie and say no so we could have our little book club, but it was too late. “That’s okay,” she said. “I’ll just read what you’re reading. I’m far enough ahead already. It’s not like I’ll fall behind. Do they have copies of your book in the library?” She gestured at Cat’s Cradle, which sat forgotten in my lap.
“I dunno,” I said. “Mrs. Parker has copies, though, I think.”
“Great!” Alex said brightly, just as the bell rang. “I’ll start reading it tonight.”
‥ ‥ ‥
The first week Alex was back at school, I was always on the hunt.
Laying waste to my enemies had always been easy, because I had nothing to lose and acted without fear of repercussion. Suspension and detention were nothing to me, and the more people who saw me beat the living shit out of some asshole, the fewer would come at me in the future.
After Alex and I became public, though, the game got a lot harder. I no longer wanted to be suspended, because I desperately wanted to go to school. I could no longer afford detention, because that would mean less time for work which would mean less money in the bank for my fast-approaching launch into adulthood. I no longer wanted an audience, because then Alex would find out I’d been fighting and I couldn’t have that.
So don’t fight, idiot, I hear you saying, but you have to understand that wasn’t an option. Alex wasn’t wrong to be worried about how people would react to us. The girls I left alone, because I didn’t know how to fix that particular brand of cruelty. The guys, though? They were different. They might be lascivious and predatory, but to me they were prey, and I hunted them mercilessly.