After a ride home in his Tahoe, Gentry walked me up the wooden porch steps of my quiet house. I wondered if my dad was asleep or secretly peering out one of the curtains. Leave it to good old Henry to pop out with his camera.
“You’re a lot of fun, Alex,” he said, bringing my attention back to the porch.
“You have some um, mean moves out there.”
“I never claimed to be a good dancer when I asked you to go.”
“No, I guess you didn’t,” I said back quietly, as we stood facing each other. The butterflies circled through my stomach. It was a little overwhelming processing all this girl stuff.
In the shadows, I saw his green eyes get a little nervous. I knew it was the pinnacle moment of the evening; if he would just go for it. I took a deep breath, and smiled, trying to let him know it was ok, even though I was nervous too.
Gentry leaned forward slightly bumping my nose. His pink lips tasted salty from the platefuls of chips consumed at the party. He kissed the way he did most other things. It was very nice and sweet. Gentry turned the slight peck into a deeper kiss, using his lips to pull open mine. He was definitely much better at this than dancing.
After Gentry left, I tiptoed through the dark house to my bedroom trying not to wake up my father. I was surprised he wasn’t sitting in the living room waiting for me. Flipping on the lamp, I slapped a hand over my mouth to keep from screaming.
“What are you doing here?” I whispered, seeing Jess sitting on my bed.
“I was… a just makin’ sure you got home.”
“Shhh…”
“Sorry,” he whispered. Jess had his tie off and the white shirt unbuttoned at the throat. He grinned at me as I came over to stand in front of him.
“You need to go. My dad will kill you if he comes in here.”
“Ok.” He stumbled a little getting off the bed.
“Have you been drinking?”
“Just a little,” he grinned close to my face. I smelled beer on each word that left his pink lips.
“Did you drive here?”
“No, I um, parked about half mile away on the four-wheeler.”
“Ok.”
As I walked Jess to the window, his arm went around my back holding on to me. He leaned over to my ear and whispered, “Did you kiss him?”
“That’s none of your business.” I looked into his blue eyes trying to figure out just how drunk he was tonight. “Can you find your way back home?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” he smiled again. Reaching up to my cheek, he pushed a red curl behind my ear. “You really do look pretty tonight.”
I rolled my eyes. “Goodnight, Jess.”
He climbed outside and stumbled before landing on both feet. I watched until he disappeared into the dark shadows of our yard. That boy really was a crazy mess sometimes.
Chapter 23
Today, 12:13 p.m.
I watch the pretty face of the beauty queen as she dabs my bare skin with the fluffy towel. She wraps it around my body and tucks it between my breasts like a toga. “I’ll be back with your clothes.”
I bit my lip hard, tasting the metallic blood. Alone for the first time in hours, I feel the weight crash back down on my shoulders. Maybe this was a dream. A terrible nightmare of a dream conjured up from watching a horror movie before falling into the comfort of my bed. After all, it had everything needed for it. A beauty queen and a bloody scene called Hospital Massacre from Hell.
She returns with a mysterious bundle of clothes. Someone had gone through the drawers in my bedroom and picked out an outfit. I put my hands on her shoulders as she slides a fresh pair of panties up my long legs. Removing the towel, I keep my eyes on the ceiling while she hooks my bra around my back.
The fresh t-shirt slides over my damp hair. I hold on to her shoulders again as she pulls the worn jeans up to my hips. My head spins a little and I clasp a hand to my stomach, feeling the nausea. The beauty queen puts an arm around my waist as we walk back to the room.
“Do you want back on the bed or in the chair?”
“Why are you helping me?”
She hesitates and finally says, “It’s my job.”
“But why are you helping me?”
“Because I want to help you, Alex. I just want to do somethin’.”
I hear footsteps. Twisting around, I see my father walk back through the door. He holds a plastic container. The smell of chicken noodle soup wafts through the room. Bile rises up in my throat. He hands the container in my direction. “Sit in the chair and try to eat this.”
“I told you, I’m not hungry.”
“When did you last eat?”
“I…ate lunch, I guess. I had pizza.”
“You threw that up, Pumpkin,” his voice is soft, “hours ago.”
“I…I…can’t eat.” I close my eyes, trying to find composure. The beauty queen leads me to the chair and I fall into the plastic seat.
“You have to try to keep something down.”
My fingers dig into the palm of my hand. “I will try to eat if you let me go. I want to talk to Dr. Mason, myself.”
“Ok.” His jaw clenches a little on the words. “I’ll go see what I can do. Just try to eat while I’m gone.”
Chapter 24
When I was eighteen…
The days of summer swept across the meadow faster than I could blink. Graduation seemed like yesterday, but that terrifying night was two months ago. A person worthy of the academic title of valedictorian should not be subjected to giving a speech. Valedictorians are people focused on grades and tests and homework. They are not the social ones who like talking to large audiences. Despite my nervous stomach, I survived that wretched night and wished everyone the best, or so I said in my prepared speech. I could not, in good faith, wish everyone the best.
At least high school and all its dramatic pieces were finally over. Now, I waited for my exit from Arlis. I waited while I spent every moment of my final summer on the ranch with Jess.
“I'm bored,” I said, stretching out on my back against the grassy bank next to the pond. I was getting fidgety, wishing I’d brought my drawing pad. “The fish just don't like me today.”
“They never like you. Fish can sense hostility.”
“Shut up!” I said, throwing a lure from the tackle box in his direction. It didn’t even come close to nicking him across the arm.
“See, hostility,” Jess smirked back at me.
“I am not hostile!”
“Al, you’re always wound up tight about somethin’. What was it yesterday? I listened to you complain about Mrs. Fleming and her banana split for what, two hours.”
“That OCD bitch forced me to remake it because she said the toppings were not distributed evenly into thirds,” I spat the words, making little drops of spit fall down on my cheeks.
“Not again, ok. You got a free split out of it.”
“Which you ate while hiding out in Jeeter's again from Uncle Frank. You really should just say something to him.”
“Are you kidding? Like he’s gonna understand. He's been on my case the last month. I need the breaks.”
“I think he's sad to see you go and doesn’t know how to tell you.”
“I'm sorry, but twenty hour days are no way to show it. Besides, if he had one of those damn cell phones the government uses to track our every move then he could find me, when he sends me to town on errands.”
I giggled at his impression of Frank. “That one was pretty good. I bet though, somewhere deep inside, he’s all mush. I bet he cries every night about you leaving, maybe even more than your Mother.”
“I doubt it. He’s hard as granite. It would probably take a diamond to cut through him and you know what they’d find inside? A heart made of dried up dirt and cigarette ash, at least that’s what Gunther said the other day.”
“You really need to stop listening to Gunther. He’s turned the feed store into the beauty shop. And most of it isn’t even true, like all those stupid Skeeter stories.”