Amanda Lumbard is a horrible driver, but since Millie couldn’t use her mom’s van tonight, she’s the only one of us who has access to a car that both works and can fit all four of us comfortably.
“That was sweet of your mom to let us borrow her van,” says Millie.
Amanda shrugs it off, her foot weighing down on the gas before she sees another car in the distance and starts tapping the gas. “She was actually kinda excited to hear I was going out with friends. Even if it is a Tuesday night.”
I nod along. I didn’t really give all the details when I invited them via group text.
ME: Hey, so I think we can all agree that we’ve got some things to work on before this pageant. There’s this pageant-ish event going on in Odessa tomorrow night and I think we could pick up some pointers.
HANNAH: My dance card is full.
ME: We’re going to need transportation, too. My car’s out of commission.
MILLIE: Sitting here with Amanda. We’re in. She can drive. Can’t wait!
HANNAH: Fine. I’ll go.
The half truth is that I feel responsible for the three of them and I thought maybe we could use some pointers for the pageant. I’m not trying to be a ringleader or anything, but if I hadn’t started this whole thing, we wouldn’t be in this boat.
The whole truth is that I needed a ride. That’s kind of horrible of me, I know. But I paid for Amanda’s gas, and her mom’s van isn’t cheap to fill up. So I’m absolved, kind of.
As we speed further and further away from town, I listen as Millie and Amanda bicker back and forth over some series of books they’re reading while I sit in the back with Hannah and a crumpled paper in my hand.
DOLLY PARTON NIGHT!
Come see your favorite Dolly Parton impersonators duke it out for the crowning glory of best little whore in Texas! Winner gets bragging rights and a one-year supply of Avon lipsticks courtesy of our very own Kiwi Lavender! The Hideaway on Palmer and Fourth Odessa, Texas Doors open at 8! Show starts at 9!
As we pull into the parking lot, Millie turns to me. “You’re sure this is the right place?”
I check the cross street and point to the hot-pink sign that blinks THE HIDEAWAY. I recognize this place from the picture of Lucy that Mrs. Dryver gave me to keep. “This is it.”
“What kind of pageant would be in a bar? This is a bar, right?” she asks.
I clear my throat. “I think it’s probably best if we keep an open mind. And I didn’t say it was a pageant necessarily.”
Hannah laughs. “This should be good.”
We all pile out of the car.
Amanda stands in the flickering pool of light below the sign. “My mom’s van is safe here, right?”
None of us answer.
There’s a short line at the door with a group of gay guys in front of us. Or what I assume to be gay guys. This is going to sound totally Podunk of me, but I’ve never actually met a gay person. Well, I mean, someone who was open about it. There are gay people in Clover City, I’m sure, but the ones I’ve heard of have been treated as urban legends or cautionary tales. Lucy had lots of gay friends online because, as she put it, Dolly Parton is the patron saint of gay men.
There are moments in my life when I feel like I know everything and that I’ve left no rock unturned. But things like this remind me of how small my world is.
“Y’all, I think those were gay guys,” whispers Amanda after they go through the door.
Hannah rolls her eyes. “You’re a fucking Einstein.”
Amanda is undeterred. “How do they get their eyebrows so perfect?”
The man standing at the door is a big, burly guy with a belly, but all he’s wearing is a pair of jeans and a leather vest.
It’s hard to imagine Lucy at this place, but then I think of the bright blue eye shadow I saw her wearing in that picture, and it doesn’t seem so impossible.
“IDs,” he growls.
“Uh, for what?” asks Millie.
“Eighteen and up,” he says.