Xanadu came tearing out of the house and sprinting across the yard as if she’d been anticipating my arrival. “Thank God you’re here,” she said. “I’ve been calling you all morning to get out here and save me. Where’ve you been?”
“I had a game,” I told her. How’d she get my number? How else? From the tri-county phone book.
“What do you mean, a game? What kind of game?” She flipped her hair over her shoulder, then lifted it in the back and let it fall.
“Softball,” I replied, wishing I could touch it. Run my fingers through it.
Her eyes scanned me up and down. I knew what she was thinking: Coalton’s a bush league.
Maybe we were. Maybe we weren’t.
“Are you any good?” she asked.
I shrugged. “We’re okay. We usually go to quarterfinals.” In case she didn’t know what that was, I added, “The state tourney.”
“Not the team.” She gave my shoe a little kick. “You.”
Me? My foot tingled. “I made first team All-State two years running.”
Did she smile? Did she realize what a big deal that was? To me, anyway. My time was running out. “Come on, let’s go.” She grabbed my jersey front and yanked me toward the driver’s side door. I stumbled at the unexpected move, the strength and force of her.
Faye appeared on the porch and Xanadu called back, “Mike and I are going to town, Aunt Faye. That okay with you?”
Going to town. I liked the sound of that.
“I finished unloading the dishwasher and folding the tea towels like you asked.” Xanadu crossed her eyes at me, adding in a mutter, “Six hundred fucking tea towels. Who uses tea towels, anyway?”
I waved a greeting at Faye. Please, I prayed, let it be okay.
Xanadu didn’t wait for Faye to answer. She climbed in on my side and slid across the front seat. My duffel was in the way so she tossed it into the back, then kicked off her sandals and curled one leg underneath her, fanning her hair out over her shoulders.
I don’t remember starting the truck.
“Hold on a minute,” Faye called.
“Shit,” Xanadu hissed under her breath. “Just go.”
I turned off the ignition.
“Dammit.”
“Sorry,” I said. I felt I should respect Faye’s wishes. This was her house.
Faye disappeared inside the mudroom and I said, “She probably forgot about those other hundred tea towels in the cellar.”
Xanadu snorted.
I hoped I was forgiven.
A moment later Faye came back out balancing two pies, one in each hand. She handed them to me through the open window. Yes! I was famished. From her apron pocket, Faye removed a jar of jam and offered it to me. “I bought a bushel more strawberries at the market than I needed. Take these to your mother. You and Darryl enjoy them too.”
“Thanks,” I said, setting the pies beside me on the seat, then changing my mind and transferring them to the back. We didn’t need anything between us. The pie plates fit perfectly inside two toilet seat rims behind me. I slid the jam in the front pocket of my duffel.
Faye peered around me at Xanadu. “Be back by dark.”
Xanadu expelled an audible sigh.
Faye added, “You’ll want to be here when your probation officer calls.”
My head whipped around.
Xanadu snarled, “Let’s go.” She folded her arms. “Oh wait. I need my purse.” She pulled up the door lever and leaped out the passenger side. Eyeing Faye across me, she added, “I keep my drugs in it. In case you were checking.” Xanadu left the door swinging free and dashed toward the house.
“I think that was a joke,” I said to Faye.
She didn’t smile. I kept my eyes on the screen door, willing Xanadu to reappear—now. Faye remarked, “She’s a piece of work, isn’t she?”
Work of art, I thought. What could I say? Our opinions differed.
Xanadu returned, sliding in beside me and slamming the door.
“Okay, I’m ready. Let’s fly.”
I revved up the truck again and shifted into gear. Faye’s eyes stayed on my face as I circled the drive. What? Did she think I wouldn’t get Xanadu home before dark? I’d get her home.
Once on the road Xanadu wrinkled her nose at the radio. “I hate country,” she said. She fiddled with the knob to find another station.
“Good luck,” I replied through the static. On a good day we could get two FM stations out of Goodland. Both country. “You can listen to the farm report on AM,” I told her.
Xanadu widened her eyes at me, then laughed. I felt the heat rise between my legs. Her eyes looked brighter today. Clearer. Cleaner. She wasn’t wearing all that gunk. Not that it mattered how she expressed herself, but she was a natural beauty. She didn’t need enhancements. She punched off the radio and leaned her head against the seat back. “Thank you for coming,” she said, closing her eyes. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou.”
I felt your need, I almost whispered. The pull of you.
“I don’t care where we go, I just need to get the hell out of here for a while.”
I didn’t care where we went either. I just wanted to spend every waking moment with her.
We tooled down the rutted road at a leisurely sixty-five mph. I figured she was a girl who liked speed. She flung an arm out the window to catch the breeze and parted her lips, seeming blissful and at peace. I was right.
“What was the score?” Her voice rose over the wind.
“What?”
She’d turned her head. “Of your game.”
“Oh. Nine to eight, first game. We won. Twelve-zip, second game.”
“Ouch. Your twelve?”
I nodded.
Her eyes fixed on my biceps. “All-State, huh? I guess that’s a big deal around here, huh?”
Was she being sarcastic? “It’s big,” I said flatly.
She lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry, Mike. I don’t mean to… you know. Demean your life.” She pressed the button on the glove box and it popped open.
I panicked. What was in there? Dad’s hip flask? Jamie’s grass? Once I found a package of condoms, obviously Darryl’s. Made me wonder what he really did on his road trips to Goodland.
She didn’t rummage through the crap, just shut the flap and said, “I know you think I’m this rich city bitch who has no appreciation for the joys of boonie living.”
I smiled. “No. I don’t think that.”
“What do you think of me?” She paused for a second before adding, “Don’t answer that.”
I almost blurted the truth, that I thought she was perfect in every way. “I… I think you’re cool,” I said.
A joyful smile lit up her face. I’d made her happy. I pledged to make her happy every day in every way.
We were nearing the stoplight and I was racking my brain about what to do in town. She’d want to have fun, but what was fun for her? We didn’t have a movie theater. No clubs. Just the Lucky Strike Lanes. I’m sure.
Xanadu said, “I didn’t mean to lie to you before, Mike. About what happened to Tiffany. It’s just, I didn’t know how you’d react when I told you I killed someone.”
My foot slammed on the brake. “What!”
“And now I know,” she added coolly.
The light was green so I pulled ahead into the empty lot at the grain elevators. People shouldn’t joke about death. Not even her. “That whole ecstasy thing, that girl dying, that was just a story you made up?”
Xanadu frowned. “No. Of course not. It happened. The only difference…” She paused. “The truth is…” She let out a ragged breath. “The truth is, I’m the one who sold Tiffany the E.”
My eyes might’ve bugged out of my head.
“Yeah,” Xanadu said. “I was her dealer.”
“Jesus.”
She lowered her head, then covered her face with her hands. “I know. It was bad. I got charged with possession. And, um, distribution of a controlled substance.” She uncovered her face, but kept her head down. “I’ve got a police record now. And I’m expelled from school. Thank God they tried me in juvenile court or I could’ve gone to jail.”
“Jesus,” I said again.
“I know.” She met my eyes. “But I spent forty-five days in detention and paid a thousand-dollar fine and did sixty hours of community service to repay Tiffany’s family.” Xanadu repeated, “Repay her family. Like I could ever do that.” Her eyes welled with tears. “I never lied about it in court. I never blamed anyone. Tiffany’s death was all my fault and I’ll have to live with that for the rest of my life. I have to live with it. Every. Fucking. Day.” She buried her face in her hands again and started to cry.
“Hey.” I reached over to touch her arm or something. Make contact. “Hey.” It was all I could think to say.
Xanadu sniffled and swiped her nose with her forearm. “What do you think of me now?” she said.
“I think you’re b—” I almost said it. Because she was, beautiful. She’d made a mistake. She admitted it. She’d paid for it. She was still paying. We’ve all been there. “I think you’re brave,” I told her.
“What?” She blinked and her eyes grew wide. “Really?”
“Yeah. For telling the truth. For owning up to it. That had to be hard.”
“It was. God, Mike. It was so hard.” With her palms, she blotted her tears and smiled tentatively at me. I smiled back. My hand was on the cushion and she reached over and covered it with hers. “You’re great.” Her fingers curled under my palm. “You know that? You get me.”
Heat surged through my body. Yeah, I got her.
Xanadu added, “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”
“No. Of course not.”
“I came here to get away. From everybody. Everything. I’m still on probation, but Dad arranged for me to stay with Aunt Faye and Uncle Lee. He thought maybe if I got a fresh start…” She swallowed hard. “I can’t believe you’re okay with this. It’s like… you don’t even care.”
I cared. I cared about her and what she was going through.
“I’m glad I found you,” she said quietly, increasing the grip on my hand. “After it happened, after I got charged, everyone turned against me, all my friends. Even my best friend dumped me. God.” Her eyes welled again. “I really need a friend.”
I needed more than a friend. I needed her to stay like this forever, stay close, hold my hand, trust me. I threaded my fingers through hers and pulled her hand closer.
She straightened in her seat. “Come on,” she said, giving my fingers a final squeeze, then releasing them, and me. “Let’s go have some fun.”
She was a girl, right? Girls liked to shop. The best clothes shopping in Coalton was at the Merc. Everett stocked a decent selection of jeans and tees and long skirts and coats. There was this black canvas Carhartt jacket I’d been drooling over since last winter.
I couldn’t picture Xanadu in any of those clothes, though. They were hick duds.
What else? Food? Eating topped my list of enjoyable activities. I was a girl, to some degree. Everyone liked to eat. I decided on the Dairy Delite. There was no other choice, really.
The Dairy D looked deserted. Jamie must’ve been in the john. At the takeout counter, I called, “Hello. Anybody home?” Jamie shot to his feet. He’d been crouching on the floor in front of the frozen custard machine, dispensing a stream of chocolate soft-serve directly into his mouth. I sighed at Xanadu. “Meet Jamie. Jamie, Xanadu.”
Jamie looked from me to her. A grin spread across his face, ear to earringed ear. “So you’re the infamous Xanadu.” He leaned across the counter and waggled a finger in her face. “I heard about you, girl.”
A look of terror streaked through her eyes.
“Not from me,” I said quickly.
“You’re the talk of Coalton,” Jamie said. “Meth-heads. God. I would’ve loved to have been there to see Glinda’s face when you said that.”
“Mrs. Stargell,” I explained. “It isn’t her real name.”
Xanadu’s brow furrowed.
“Jamie makes up names for people.”
“Not true.” He shook his head from side to side. “I give identity to one’s inner being. I visualize their essence.”
I rolled my eyes. “Ask him what he calls his mother.”
Xanadu arched eyebrows at Jamie.
“Elle s’appelle Geneviève,” he said with a fake French accent. So queer.
Xanadu laughed. She was indulging him. Not a good idea. “Make up a name for me,” she told him.
“Honey,” he said, “your essence has already been identified and personified by your name.”
That was true. She was the embodiment of poetry.
Jamie slapped the countertop. “What can I get you, girls? The special today is the chili cheese dog, but I don’t recommend it. The buns are hard as day-old dicks and the hamburger was looking a little E. coli, if you know what I mean. The curly fries are hot and fresh cuz I just made a new batch. Well, half a batch now.” He tilted his head. “We’re running low on custard too, don’t ask me why.” He stuck an index finger into his right dimple and twisted it.
Xanadu laughed again. “You,” she said, pointing to him. “Both of you are going to save my life.”
Ditto, I thought.
Jamie quipped, “We’re out of Life Savers. We have gobs of sprinkles for sundaes, though.” His tongue, I saw, was a hideous shade of green and pink and orange. “Oh hey, Mike. Kung Pao called over a few minutes ago.”
“Shit.” I glanced at my watch. Twenty after three. “Listen, I’ve got to go drop the truck off for Darryl. Take care of Xanadu, will you? I’ll be right back.”
Jamie eyed the length of her. “I’m not sure what to do, seeing as how I’m not that kind of boy.”
I shot him a silent warning: Shut it off.
She made some remark I didn’t hear as I tore to the truck. Jamie had her laughing, anyway.
I parked at the curb and honked, left the keys in the ignition, then sprinted the eight blocks back to the Dairy D. Xanadu had ordered onion rings and a Mr. Mistee, and was sitting across from Jamie at the outdoor picnic table. He’d fixed us our usual—a raspberry Mistee and an order of curly fries to share.
“What do you do around here for fun?” Xanadu asked him as I eased in beside her.
“You mean instead of this?” He lassoed a curly fry in the air.
She sipped on her Mistee. Sitting so close to her, the charged air between us made the hair on my arms stand up.
Jamie tapped his chin. “Let’s see. Mike is into Internet porn.”
I lunged across the table and slugged him in the chest.
“Hey, owie.” He rubbed his pec. “Don’t damage the merch.”
“You were damaged from birth,” I muttered.
“You’re the one with hormone deficiency.”
Xanadu laughed. “You are both so gay—” She stopped. She swiveled to face me. “I didn’t say that.”
Jamie said, “Use it or lose it.” He flapped a limp wrist at her.
I hated when he got this way. All show-offy, exhibitionist. He validated the stereotype. He played to it. Exhaling an irritated breath, I scooted out the end of the bench and said, “Anyone else want ketchup?”
Jamie raised his hand. “I do. I do.”
I bent his hand back until cartilage crunched.
On my way to the gallon jug out front, I heard Xanadu say to Jamie, “Um, is it okay to talk about it?”
“About what?” Jamie said. “Us being gay? It’s not like it’s a secret. Look at me. Am I flaming, or what?”
Xanadu said, “I didn’t notice.”
They both cracked up.
As I scooted back in with a pee cup of ketchup, Xanadu smiled at me. I melted. She said, “So, the two of you…”
“Coalton’s token ten percent of the population,” Jamie answered. He swirled a curly fry in the ketchup, adding, “One fag and one dyke. You couldn’t order it up any more predictable than that.”
I glared at him. “Cram it.”
“Oh, excuse me. Mike doesn’t like to admit she’s,” he cupped a hand to his mouth and mock-whispered to Xanadu, “queer.”
“I don’t like labels,” I snapped. “Especially that one.”
Xanadu turned toward me and held my eyes. “I know what you mean. God, how I know what you mean.” She gave me a long, knowing look. “I respect that, Mike. I really do.”
Heat fried my face. She got it. She understood me perfectly. Vice versa. We had a connection.
Jamie took a sip of Mistee and said, “Did you get to River View?”
My eye daggers sliced through his heart.
“Sorry.” He blanched. “I’m sorry.”
I thought, Broadcast it to the world, why don’t you?
“What’s River View?” Xanadu asked.
Jamie answered quickly, “The big party scene outside of town. It’s where us townies go to shoot up and perform degrading acts of sex and civil disobedience.”
Xanadu’s eyebrows lifted. “When can we leave?” She grinned. “Just kidding.” She helped herself to a curly fry. “I don’t do drugs and I’m giving up sex.”
“Forever?” Jamie and I said together. We cut each other a glance.
Xanadu shrugged. “Guys blow.”
Jamie said, “Which ones? Could you get me their numbers?”
Xanadu must’ve kicked him under the table because he yelped and grabbed his shin. My Mr. Mistee ran dry so I sighted a rim shot to the trash can. Whoosh. Two points.
“Really. Where do you guys party? What do you do here? It’s so boring I just want to strip naked and go running through the cornfields.”
Jamie’s eyes bulged. “Could I sell tickets to that?”
I clicked a tongue at him. That was a joke. I’d buy up all the tickets, though. “Wheat,” I said.
“What?” Xanadu blinked at me.
“Nothing,” I mumbled. It’s wheat, not corn.
She opened her purse and fished around for something. A poison dart for Jamie, I hoped. He opened his mouth to humiliate me again, but got distracted by a black Ford pickup veering into the parking cove and grinding to a halt on the gravel. “Great. Talk about guys who blow,” Jamie said under his breath. He sighed heavily and stood.
“Who is it?” Xanadu pulled out her shades and reclasped her purse.
Both truck doors slammed in unison. Xanadu’s jaw dropped. “Oh my God.” She clenched my arm. “Who is that?”
I shielded my eyes against the blinding sun. You couldn’t mistake those two silhouettes. “Which one?” I said.
“The one with the hat.”
They both had Stetsons. “Beau and Bailey McCall,” I told her. Maybe she meant Bailey, since Beau was carrying his hat. “Beau is Jamie’s wet dream.”
Xanadu’s head spun in Jamie’s direction, but he’d already skittered back inside. Beau raked a hand through his mop of curly brown hair and eased his Stet back onto his head. Xanadu watched as they neared us. She pressed a palm to her heart. “My God,” she breathed. “They’re divine. Bailey’s the taller one?”
I hadn’t noticed before, but I guess he was a couple of inches taller than Beau. They were both over six feet. “Yeah.”
As they passed our table, they acknowledged me—us—with identical hitches of their chins. Like Bailey, like Beau. It was sort of a running joke. Jamie ran with it.
“Hey,” I said in greeting. Xanadu seemed dumbstruck, frozen in the lips-parted position. She slid her shades down the bridge of her nose and peered over the rim, sexily.
At the takeout window they both ordered burgers and Cokes. “Would you like fries with that?” Jamie asked Beau. “They’re on the house.”
Jamie, I admonished silently. Nothing was on the house here. He had to pay for everything he ate, which pretty much meant he volunteered his time. Why was he always doing that for Beau? Giving it away? He came off so desperate.
Xanadu scooted out the end of the bench and moved around the table to sit opposite me. Why? To get a better view? “I didn’t see them at school,” she said in a lowered voice across the tabletop. “And believe me, I checked out everyone.”
I thought back. “They’ve been gone a couple of days. Helping with calving.” At least, Bailey had. Like Bailey, like Beau, I assumed.
“Where?” Xanadu asked.
“Where what?”
She let out a little huff. “Where do they live?”
“Oh. Out by you,” I answered. “Near your aunt and uncle. You just continue on the county road a couple of miles until you see the big windmill. You’ll smell it first. Their feedlot.”
“No shit?”
I laughed. Was that a joke?
Xanadu’s lips twitched up at the ends. “I might have to take up cattle rustling.”
Slaughtering, I almost corrected her.
We watched as they pumped mustard and ketchup and spooned relish onto their burgers. Xanadu stared so hard at Bailey’s back it made him turn around. “Oh my God, he’s looking at me.” She hid her face behind her purse. “I didn’t even put on makeup today.”
You don’t need it, I wanted to say. You’re beautiful the way you are. Besides, he can’t see your eyes.
She asked, “Does he have a girlfriend?”
“Who?”
She cocked her head at me like, Hel-loo?
“Bailey? How should I know?” It came out harsher than I meant.
“I thought everyone knew everything in Coalton.”
When they cared, I thought.
“Is he still looking?” Xanadu sneaked a peek over her purse.
“No, he’s inhaling his burger.” I looped a leg over the bench and stood up. “I better get you home before dark.” Thank you, Faye. Thank you, God, for rotation of the earth and making the sunset arrive at this time.
Xanadu exhaled an irritated breath. She pushed out the end of her bench and paused for a moment, studying Bailey. Looking breathtaking backlit by the rosy sun. Then she turned and accompanied me to the truck.
The truck.
Xanadu must’ve realized it the same moment I did. There was no truck. We both skidded to a stop in the gravel. She removed her shades and dropped them into her purse, then said, “I think I know where I can get a ride. Is there a restroom in this place? I have to put on makeup.”
My heart sank. “Knock on the back door. Jamie’ll let you use the one inside.”
She reversed direction and walked toward the Dairy D. Halfway there, she turned and called to me, “I’ll let you know how it goes.”