Javi lets loose a peal of laughter then tries to take it back by covering his mouth with his fist. I stare at Kendall and wonder what it must be like to live a life so unchallenged that my unspectacular retort could make any kind of successful landing. There’s a fire in her eyes that tells me maybe I need to walk this back if I want access to her father.
And that’s what I’m here for, after all.
“How am I doing so far?” she asks coolly.
“T-too early to tell.”
“I like you, Lera,” Noah declares, tipping his bottle to me. I clink mine with his. Noah Baker has a TV news anchor’s voice, if the news anchor was a little drunk. “You can stay.”
“So where do you live?” Javi asks, and immediately flushes at the question, like it’s somehow too personal, even though not that long ago his hands were on my hips. Kendall rolls her eyes but relaxes back into the booth.
Carrie snaps her fingers and says, voice sweet as a bell, “Hey, wait … did you move into the Cornells’ place? You’re the … Holdens, right?”
That’s the gift of the city, I guess. The constant flow of it. I can’t remember people coming in and out of Cold Creek the same kind of way, the kind of leaving and arriving with the energy of a promise behind it. In Cold Creek, it’s only birth and death, that kind of coming and going. The Cornells’ place. The Holdens. It’s too good for me not to take.
“Yeah,” I say.
“That’s like three streets away from me,” Javi says.
“My sister-in-law sold that place,” Carrie says. “It’s real fucking cherry. There’s a sauna and like, some kind of treehouse in the back?”
I nod. Sure.
Noah eyes me. “Parents got it good, huh?”
“G-good as yours.”
“And what do you know about them?” Kendall asks.
“Your d-dad seems like a b-big shot,” I say, meeting her eyes. Noah knocks his fist against the table in affirmation, and then takes a swig of his beer.
“You g-guys.” I nod at the four of them. “You g-grow up t-together?”
“You tell us,” Kendall says. “Since you know everything.”
“My family moved to Montgomery around third grade,” Carrie says. She gestures to Javi, Noah and Kendall. “These three are lifers, though.”
“Their dad was my T-ball coach,” Javi says, nodding at Noah, who polishes off the rest of his bottle in one impressive swig. He reaches across the table to thump Javi on the arm.
“Come on, dude. ’Nother round. On me.” He flashes me a bright white smile. “In celebration of our new friend.”
“I’m g-good, thanks.”
I tap my nail against my mostly full bottle. Any more than this and I don’t think it would be good. I turn to Kendall, “You know a g-guy named J-Jack Hersh?”
She raises an eyebrow. “Who?”
“N-no one.” I pause. “Or D-Darren M-Marshall?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
We sit there in silence. I never know what to do with girls. Pretty girls. I want them to like me. It’s a strange, almost visceral need that settles itself inside and it makes me feel stupid and weak because I know it’s a fault line I can trace all the way back to my mother. Worse than that is the fact that I can recognize this need inside me and yet never work myself right enough to satisfy it. Ask me how many friends I’ve had, even before Mattie was killed.
“That was quite the entrance,” Carrie says and I don’t know if that’s a compliment or insult. Kendall’s lip curls. She says, “I dunno. It seemed kinda familiar.”
A weird sense of pride rushes through me. It was ridiculous—so brazen.
But it was good because it got me here.
“Javi was pretty into it,” Carrie says.
Kendall stares at me from under her long eyelashes. “He’s such a pussy, it’s kind of amazing he made a move. You better be nice to him.”
“He’s c-cute.” I glance at the boys, still at the bar. “What about Noah?”
“He has a boyfriend.”
I finish off my PBR and Kendall’s phone chimes. She digs it out of her pocket and the screen lights her face. She says, “It’s from Matt.”
“Don’t answer him,” Carrie says.
“I have to,” Kendall snaps. “You told me not to answer him the last time and I didn’t, so this time, I have to or else he’ll—”
“What, be even more of an asshole to you?”
“Who?” I ask.
“Matt Brennan. Kendall’s asshole boyfriend.” Carrie stares Kendall down. Kendall lets it roll off her back. “You’ll meet him at MHS, if Kendall hasn’t pulled her head out of her ass and dumped him like she should by then—”
“M-MHS?”
This draws Kendall’s eyes from her phone.
“Montgomery High?” You fucking idiot seems implied.
I force a laugh. “H-haven’t made the mental t-transition yet.”
“What was your old school like?” Carrie asks.
I give her a tight smile and try to remember high school. I never liked school; no one was interested in knowing me beyond making fun of my mouth and by the time my classmates were past the point of caring, so was I. High school always felt like an elaborate lie to me, some made-up fantasyland I was locked in for a set number of hours a day and just beyond its doors was the trailer my mother walked out of and inside that, my sister—and my sister needed me. So what was the point of algebra? Has there ever been one?
Kendall’s phone goes off again, saving me.
Carrie groans. “Fuck him.”
“Fuck who?” Javi asks, sliding back in the booth beside me, Noah just behind him.
“Matt,” Carrie answers, despite the warning glare Kendall shoots her.
Noah reaches over and snatches Kendall’s phone from her hands. She tells him to give it back, you motherfucker, give it back, but Carrie says, “You’ll thank us for this later,” and Noah says, “Jesus, Kendall, if you’re not going to drop him at least make him beg.”
“Give me my fucking phone,” she says.
“You promised.” Noah waves the phone in front of her face before shoving it into his pocket. “You promised you’d leave this bullshit at home tonight and I promised you I’d do this if you didn’t.” He reaches across the booth and covers Kendall’s mouth with his hand when she starts to protest and I think if any boy did that to me, even if he was my brother, I’d rip his arm out of its socket. “So shut the fuck up about Matt and drink your stupid drink that I bought you.”
Kendall scowls, but she takes a mutinous swig of her new beer, giving Noah the finger with her free hand while she does.
“Hey,” Javi says to me.
“Hi.”
“Didn’t stutter that time,” he says and I vow to let it be the only time he makes me blush for however long I’m around him. “My cousin used to stutter but he could sing, though. Like, he didn’t stutter when he sang. Is it like that for you?”
I shake my head, even though I actually don’t stutter when I sing—but I can’t sing worth a damn and I’m not in the mood to become some party trick.
“I don’t st-stutter when I’m a-alone.”
“Cool,” Javi says, even though that’s not the word I’d use. “My cousin grew out of it.”
“Lucky h-him.”
Kendall squints at me. “So do you do it because you’re nervous? I don’t get it.”
I bite back the urge to tell her it doesn’t matter if she fucking gets it.
Javi laces his fingers behind is head. “So what do you think of Montgomery so far? Why’d your family move out here?”
“We…” I stare at the table for a long moment and then I decide maybe it’s easier to tell a lie steeped in just enough truth because it won’t be as hard to lose track of. “M-my little s-sister d-died. We needed a ch-change of scenery.” It quiets them the way it should. When I look up, Kendall’s expression has softened because she’s not a monster. “But you c-can’t really get away from s-something like that.”
“I bet you can’t,” Javi says.
“Th-thought I’d try, though,” I say, brightly as I can muster. I give Kendall a small smile. “Hence, c-crashing your party.”
“Well. I’m sorry about why you’re here, but … I’m glad you’re here,” Javi says and it still doesn’t sound right. “Because Montgomery’s fucking boring. It needs someone new.”
“It’s not that bad,” Carrie says.
“No, it is that bad,” Javi replies. “It’s the same old shit, every day…”
Noah wads up a napkin and tosses it at Javi’s head. “If the same old shit is you not doing shit, then I’ll bite, you goddamn benchwarmer.” Noah looks at me and points to Javi. “He needs someone new. You into guys, Lera?”