CHAPTER THREE
Kyland
"Hey, Mama," I said, shutting the door to my house behind me and glancing into the living room where her chair sat in front of the TV.
My mama didn't greet me back, but she never did. I was used to it now.
I went to my bedroom and opened the window as wide as it would go and stood looking out at the early evening sky, my hands braced on the windowsill as I drew in deep breaths. After a few minutes, I lay down on my bed right next to the window, bringing my arms up and resting my head on my hands behind me.
My mind went immediately to Tenleigh Falyn. I couldn't believe I'd gotten her fired from her job. I groaned aloud. It was mostly her fault, so why did I feel like such a shit about it? It'd been her own stupid choice to cover for me. But thank God she had. If I'd been arrested for stealing . . . it would have been bad, very bad.
I hadn't even known exactly why I stole that sandwich for Mrs. Lytle until I'd attempted to explain it to Tenleigh. And the only reason I'd offered an explanation at all was because I had nothing else to give Tenleigh as thanks for the sacrifice she'd made for me. I'd seen Joan Lytle sitting on the stairs of the old post office and something in the way she was hunched over as if she was trying to curl up into herself hit me square in the gut. I'd felt that way, too. Only I, at least, had a roof over my head. I, at the very least, was only hungry the last week of every month when the money ran out. Something inside me had needed to let her know I saw her, as much for her as for myself. And so I'd swiped the sandwich.
Stupid. Idiotic.
It was even worse that I wasn't sorry, except for the fact that Tenleigh had been the one to pay the price.
Tenleigh.
My mind moved to the expression that had been on her face as I'd looked at her trailer. She'd felt shame, which was kind of ridiculous. My house was in shambles, too. My life was in shambles. I was hardly one to judge her situation. But I hadn't really been looking at her pitiful little trailer anyway. I'd been looking at the area around her trailer. It was clean and orderly, not a single piece of garbage in sight—the same way I made sure to keep my own yard. Up and down this hill, the yards and properties were strewn with garbage—just another way the people in Dennville exhibited their defeat. No one on this mountain could afford a luxury like garbage pick-up and most yards were buried under a pile of crap—a good metaphor for most lives in these parts. But each Monday, I gathered my garbage into two garbage bags and carried them down the hill and emptied them in the big dumpster out back of Rusty's. Then I folded the garbage bags up and put them in my backpack. I made them last. When it was a choice between a couple cans of SpaghettiOs and a box of garbage bags, I was going to choose the food. I'd seen Tenleigh carrying a big box down the mountain now and again and wondered what was in it. She must be doing the same thing. And I knew it was because she had pride. Which, for people like us, was more a curse than a blessing.
I'd noticed Tenleigh before that, too. In fact, I'd watched her in the few classes we had together. She always sat at the front of the classroom and I would position myself in the back so I had the perfect view. I couldn't take my eyes off her. I liked the way she reacted unconsciously when someone who annoyed her talked to her—scratching her bare leg and pursing her lips . . . the way she squinted up at the blackboard in serious concentration and nibbled at that pink lower lip . . . the way she sometimes stared out the window with that dreamy look on her face. I'd memorized her profile, the line of her neck. A hollow, ill feeling rose in my chest when I noticed the bottoms of her shoes, full of holes and practically falling off. I could see that she had used some kind of magic marker to color in the scuffs on the tops. I could picture her at home, coloring in those spots because she cared what people thought of her old, ruined shoes. It enraged me that she had to do that. Which was completely irrational. And which, of course, meant I had to stay far, far away from Tenleigh Falyn. I couldn't afford to feel the things I felt just watching her. More to the point, I didn't want to.
After the day she'd caught me swiping the leftover food, I'd seen her watching me when she thought I wasn't looking. I was no stranger to the enjoyment of the finer sex. I wasn't one to turn down an offer if I got one—who didn't want the distraction of a willing body to remind you that you hadn't just been made for suffering? But somehow I sensed Tenleigh wasn't watching me with that kind of interest. She looked at me as if she was working out some kind of puzzle—as if she wanted to know me. And I couldn't help wanting to know why.
Stupid. Idiotic.
She had this quiet about her—something soothing, a strange mix of strength and vulnerability. She was beautiful—I'd definitely noticed that, too—but her beauty was obviously something she didn't put much effort into, which made her even more appealing. To me, at least. She didn't wear any makeup and her hair was generally held back in a simple ponytail. She obviously didn't consider her looks to be her most valuable asset. And it made me wonder what was. Her smarts? Maybe. Not that she had a chance of winning that scholarship. I'd been working on it since before I even started high school. I had even studied all the past winners' accomplishments and made sure I had every single box checked. I needed that scholarship. My whole life depended on it. So, as far as what it was about Tenleigh that interested me so much, it didn't matter. I'd be leaving soon and I'd never look back, not at beautiful, green-eyed Tenleigh Falyn or anyone else.
So why couldn't I stop thinking about her?
Stupid. Idiotic.
After a little bit, I dragged my backpack up on my bed and got my textbooks out. I had to stay on track. I only had six months until the school announced the winner of the scholarship that would get me out of this godforsaken shithole, away from the hopelessness, away from the hunger, away from the mine where my father and older brother had lost their lives in the pitch blackness miles under the earth.
**********
I spotted Tenleigh a few days later as she walked ahead of me toward the road leading to our homes. She had a book in her hands and was reading as she walked. Stupid girl—she was going to trip and break her neck. I lagged behind, watching her as she walked. I guessed I owed her a little something for what she'd done for me. I could make sure she got home safe from school. And I'd make sure she didn't see me. I'd make sure I never spoke to Tenleigh again. It was just better that way.
I startled slightly when she suddenly took a turn onto a forest path. What the hell? I stood on the road for a minute watching her disappear into the woods. That girl would deserve it when a bobcat ate her. I let out a frustrated breath and followed her.
I'd been down this trail before. I'd been down every trail on this mountain either with my brother when he'd still been alive, or on my own. But I had no idea what Tenleigh was doing because there was nothing this way except for the abrupt edge of a limestone cliff.
After five minutes or so of trudging along the narrow path, I came out through the trees. Tenleigh's back was mostly to me as she stood staring out at the setting sun, the horizon glowing orange and yellow, white rays emerging from the clouds as if heaven had broken through.
The colorful sky stretched before us—magnificent—as if it was trying to make up for the ugliness of our lives, our constant struggles. And for just the briefest, most fleeting of moments, maybe it did. If only I could grasp it and make it stay. If only I could grasp anything good and make it stay.
Tenleigh sat down on a rock and looked out at the glowing sunset. I began walking toward her and her head turned to me abruptly as she let out a little shriek, bringing her hand to her chest, her eyes wide. "Good gosh! You scared me! Again. What is it with you?"
"Sorry." I went and sat down next to her.