Authors: M Evonne Dobson
At the familiar high school burger haunt, Sam glues his arm around Sandy's waist. They laugh together like a real couple. It feels odd outside their together-vibes. We've been a threesome, but that will change now. After my back-of-the-bus worries, Sandy had texted about that first kiss. Sam got mad when she spent too much time talking to Nick Bateman. He'd grabbed her arm and kissed her blind, in her words. Then Sam the Embarrassed hightailed it to his next class without a word, until he had texted her as I climbed those stairs to my private sanctuary and my chance meeting with Daniel.
They are sweet. A kiss between Sam and Sandy seems far more permanent than whatever happens between Emerald Green Eyes and meâno matter how nuclear it gets.
As for Daniel? It's amazing. In the corner booth, the guy completely relaxes, laughing at the jokes, tossing a French fry that Sandy catches in her mouth. 3J, Sally, and Ernie from pep band join us and we squash up in the booth.
One of them finally asks me the white elephant question. “What's up with pep band?”
Daniel asks, “What happened?”
Sally states what everyone around the table already knows. “Kami missed pep band twice. She's kicked out.”
For a minute, Daniel just stares at me, and then says, “Let me out of here.” There's a quick shift of bodies as he climbs out and heads for the front door.
Sandy pokes me. “What are you waiting for? Go after him.”
She's right. There's another shift of bodies and I race after him. He's getting into his Mustang. I go around and knock on the passenger window. At first, I think he's going to drive off and ignore me, but he unlocks the door and I climb in.
He takes off, heading north on Highway 69. We leave the town lights behind. He says, “You were kicked out of band because of me.”
“No,” but I don't sound convincing.
“It was those Fridays at Broken Bone, wasn't it? You missed pep band twice because of me.” He turns onto a gravel road and pulls to the side. I envy his car's heater. EB would have protested.
It's quiet out here, and it's going to be another subzero night. The moon, just coming up over the horizon, is huge. The stars are brilliant, but disappearing rapidly under the steam built up on the glass windshield and car windows.
When we finally speak, it's at the same time.
“I'm a lousy flute player anywayâtechnically good, but my emotions don't come out like a great player can do it.”
“I didn't want other people involved. This thing with Juliaâ¦She screwed it up for everyone.”
We both backtrack to replay what the other had said. Whoa. That is big. Daniel's said Julia screwed up for the first time.
He's faster on the uptake and asks, “You're a lousy flute player? You?”
I duck my head, ashamed. “Yeah. I can play, but not good enough for jazz band, which is what I wanted to do. Mr. Duncan knew that and let me stay in pep band. It was just a social thing. At the time, it was important. All the MA kids live in Ankeny and Des Moines. I've got Sam and Sandy, but pep band forced me to be with people.” Dad pushed me hard to stay in band.
Then I meet his gaze. It's a nice gaze with his robin egg blue eyes like Julia's school photo. Julia's hair had been blond curls; his is growing in dark, almost black, and straight. It sticks up all over his head. Daniel'll never be Hollywood Gavin with the Emerald Green Eyes.
I confess. “I'm not popular, Daniel. I like data sets more than people. I say the wrong things in the wrong way to the wrong people at the wrong time. I'm stubborn and pigheaded.” I realize that I'm the polar opposite of suave Gavin with the Emerald Green Eyes. What does that say about a future relationship? Daniel, though? He's comfortable like a worn coat you snuggle into.
“I figured that out when you told that fat kid in MA to lose half of his ass.”
I groan. “Yeah. I probably did. Tim's a nice guy. I didn't mean to hurt his feelings. It's a miracle Sam and Sandy put up with me. I keep a list in my head of things that I should tell them. Things like
âI love your new cowboy boots
to Sandy, or
Way to go for kissing Sandy, Sam.'
I mean to, but then my mind gets fixated on other stuff. ”
He fiddles with the radio. “Yet, you help me. You drag your friends into it. If you call that pigheaded, then I'm okay with that.”
I take a deep breath and count the fast-forming frost cracks on the windshield that sparkles with the moon behind them. “You said Julia screwed up.”
Daniel leans his head against the steering wheel like life has left him.
I quickly say, “I'm sorry. We don't have to talk about it.”
“No, we should. She was dealing drugs. Do you think she was taking them too?”
I don't know. “Maybe.” The cracks are getting long, stringing across the entire windshield. We're in a cocoon and no one can see in. Julia had been hiding in one too. I say, “Probably.”
He reaches out and swipes away some of the condensation on his side window, looking out into the darkness. There aren't answers etched in it. “My life is a screwup, but Julia made life easier. You would have liked her, Kami, before...”
“I know.” I turn the heat fan up to the front defroster. Hot air blasts my face. “Let me show you something Julia did right. Drive to the stables.”
“I don't want to shovel more horseshit.”
Like normal, I take him literally, but he stops me before stupid comes out. “Joking, Kami. Laugh.”
“Okay, but we might be shoveling manure.”
“Yeah, I figured. My shit boots are in the trunk.”
***
Daniel opens the human door for me. It's nice that he likes that old-fashioned stuff. “Did they teach you to open doors for women at military school?”
“Nah. That was Dad. I've made him sound like a goon, but he's not. He just lives by hard rules.”
The stable is a lonely place, unless you count the horses. I call out, “Trish!”
She says, “I'm back here.”
We walk down toward her. “Trish, can you do us a favor?”
“Help me feed and it's a deal. What is it?” Daniel's happy with no horse apple scooping.
I ask her, “Would you ride Diamond for us?”
“I can't,” she says. “I mean I used to all the time, but when Julia died, Peggy said I couldn't anymore. She's afraid something would happen. Then there'd be hell to pay with her dad.”
Daniel says, “That's stupid. Julia wouldn't want Diamond to sit 24/7 in a stall. If it's about permission and stuff, Dad told me to take Julia's things. I think he'd include Diamond in that.”
Trish loves that horse as much as Julia had and she agrees to ride her. Daniel and I pull back the big arena doors while Trish saddles Diamond. The entire stable groans and echoes in protest. It's cold, dark, and cavernous inside; my breath fog is visible from the overspill aisle lights. I flip on the overheads, but it'll take several minutes for them to slowly light up. In the meantime, they make narrow shafts of light.
Trish leads a western-tacked Diamond in. The mare is a small, delicate-legged quarter horse. She walks with a gentle elegance, but she's thrilled to be saddled-up. She dances around, pulling on the reins Trish holds tight. “Easy, girl. Easy,” Trish says and lays a hand on the mare's neck. Impatient, the horse reaches back to nip at her.
Daniel jumps back into me and I remember he has a scar from a crabby pony. “She doesn't get enough exercise.” Still, Diamond doesn't seem as amped up as I expected.
Grabbing Julia's leather-wrapped saddle horn, Trish leaps up on Diamond's back, landing gently without using the stirrup. I holler out, “Okay, that's just showing off.”
Trish grins as the mare dances. She lets Diamond go and the horse's hooves dig deep into the sand and charges down the arena. The overhead lights are brighter now, but still create just cones of light with dark spaces between them. The wind whips over the arena's roof, which clanks in response. Diamond bounces like a cat with yarn, all four feet off the ground. Trish the Master Equestrienne stays centered on her back. The mare would have dumped me on my butt, but not Trish. Her body is fluid and gracefulâat one with the mare. If I had kept at riding, could I have that much skill?
“What exactly am I supposed to be seeing here?” Daniel asks. “Rider getting killed?”
I'm leaning against him and his arm settles around my waist. Warmth spreads beneath my new down coat. It's nice. “Let them get the kinks out.”
Even Daniel can see when the switch happens. One moment, the mare is in charge and the next her neck arches. Her head draws in, perpendicular to the ground, as she collects her legs underneath like a gymnast before a long exercise move.
“Here we go. Watch this.”
***
The mare's body curves and in that position Trish takes her from one corner of the arena to the farthest kitty-corner. Like a ballerina, Diamond appears to float across the arena. They do the same thing between the opposite corners.
“That's cool. What's that called?”
“It's a half-pass, but you haven't seen anything yet.”
“Did Trish teach that to Diamond?”
“No, Julia did. She normally didn't come out on Sundays, but she did once. Mom and I saw her work Diamond. She was a very good rider, Daniel. She was special; maybe even one-of-a kind. Julia the Rider with Diamond was amazing. Mom couldn't stop talking about it. I wish I'd met her. If Julia and Mom could have met, it might have made a difference in how things turned out.”
Diamond and Trish reach the corner to our right again, executing beauty and grace in figure eights at a canter and then the faster gallop. The mare neatly and without fanfare changes leads as smooth as chocolate icing. I doubt Daniel notices, but it doesn't matter. Soon enough, he'll see how special Diamond is.
The overhead lights are on full now. We can see every movement, every huff of breath Diamond makes. Trish stops the mare near us and gives the horse some freedom. Diamond instantly relaxes, her head drops, and I want to laugh when the mare cocks her hip over to one side. Everything about the mare at this point is a sham. She's only playacting at being an old cowpoke's horse. Julia taught her that too.
Sensing me tense up, Daniel asks, “Kami?”
“Shush. Wait for it.”
I don't see Trish's subtle cue, but Diamond suddenly spins and leaps, instantly taking off down the arena's long center line at a dead run. I whoop. Daniel straightens beside me. Quarter horses are the sprinters of the animal kingdom and that little quarter mare can move. For the length of the arena, she'll beat out any thoroughbred in the barn.
At the far side, the mare's butt sinks to the ground and sand spews out as Trish asks for the brakes. Diamond's long black mane flies forward, but her head remains perfectly positioned perpendicular to the ground. Without a single breath, the horse rolls back over her haunches on piston-strong hocks in a one hundred-eighty-degree turn and barrels back down the arena straight at us.
“Kami?” I clamp my arm around his waist, holding him in place. Trish applies the brakes again and Diamond slides to a stop three feet away. Sand blasts us in the face. The mare's heavy breath fills my nose; she had sweet apple treats with supper. There's a slight pause before she spins three hundred-sixty degrees, like a physics deviant. Then Diamond is back in cowpoke's horse mode. That crazy hip of hers cocks again. Trish leans over and wraps her arms around the horse's sweating neck, thumping it in approval. Diamond's head comes up and her ears twitch back and forth as if to say, “Shucks, that's nothing.”
Daniel applauds and I join him. Trish wears the biggest grin. Even Diamond prances. Her rider dismounts and Daniel strokes the mare's hot, steaming neck.
I whisper to Daniel, hoping to plant a seed. “She really is in horrible shape. It's a shame that she's stuck in a stall with no one to ride her.”
He nods at me, catching my drift. I suspect he'll arrange for Trish to work Diamond. Then he says,“That was freaking awesome.”
Trish says, “It was all Julia. Every bit of it. That girl knew how to train a horse.” Tears flow down her cheeks for her childhood friend. “Get out of here. I'll feed the horses myself.”
We leave her to her grief. Daniel's arm is back around my waist and it slips down to my hip where he latches it into a belt loop as we walk toward the trailer entrance doors and his car.
***
Sunday, I walk the mall promenade, joining the speed-walking seniors. Fifteen minutes later, Sam and Sandy come through the main entrance and join me. Sam checks his wristwatch incessantly. The small mall has twenty-some stores with a large department store at one end and in the middle. At the other end is the food court and the movie theater entrance.
Then Sam says, “It's eleven-thirty.”
Sandy, the main player today, is a freaking light bulb. I say, “Tone it down. They'll figure something is up.”
I get lost in watching her face, trying to figure out how she does it. She stops smiling for one thing; not frowning, just uninterested. Her eyes, which had been focused on me, now rove around the mall, bored. Her shoulders hunch a bit and her bouncy step becomes slow and steady.
“Is this better?” she asks, in a pout not at all like her natural voice.
“You're too good at this.”
I recap, suddenly nervous. “Remember, this is just a food-court meeting. Get what we can and then signal Sam. He'll come get you and you both exit. Got it?” Sam and Sandy ignore me. They know what to do.
Sam the Nervous Non-actor says, “It's time.” He crosses the mall away from us.
I drop back into the short bathroom hallway as Sandy steps up to the sunglasses booth. During Iowa winters, sunglasses aren't a big item. The college guy working the booth is thrilled.
More people stream through the nearby movie entranceâkids, couples, singles, and then Mandy, Tammy, and Vampy. I step further back in the hall and out of sight. Only my head sticks out.
Sandy's back is to the food court. I give my finger-swipe-against-the-nose con sign from
The Sting
that she insists we use. She studied the movie last night to prepare for her role. Sam is pretending to not mind Sandy's new infatuation with Robert Redford.
Sandy loses her bored look and excitement bursts out. Then she locks back into acting mode. Eat your heart out, Jennifer Lawrence.
She sets the sunglasses back and gives the disappointed salesclerk a smile. Heading toward the food court, she pretends to be looking for Sam. Mandy, Tammy, and Vampy are in the Hungry Panda line. Sandy joins them, oozing into their group with ease. Trays in hand, they set up at a round table on the raised circle platform, about two feet higher than the mall floor. It's the natural throne for the queen bees overseeing their mall fiefdom. Sam absorbs himself in a shop window: Victoria's Secrets. The Sam I Love is staring at mannequins wearing bras and thongs. Flustered, he electron-flips to a nearby men's apparel window instead.
That's when the plan goes haywire, at least my part of it.
“Hey. You blew me offâagain.” Gavin with the Emerald Green Eyes says beside me.
I fall into gorgeous emerald eyes. “Hi. Yeah, things got out of controlâagain. Should have texted you but I don't have your phone number.”
“Let's fix that. I'm meeting Jimmy and Sally for food and then movies. Come with me? If you don'tâ¦You know, odd man out.”
Trapped, I say the only thing possible. “Sure. Lunch sounds good, but no movie. I'm meetingâ¦Trish later.” The lie doesn't roll off my tongue the way Sandy can do it, but it works. Telling Emerald Green Eyes I'm on a surveillance mission? No way.
His hand is kinda moist. It's like I'm his lifeline or something and where had that stupid thought come from? We decide on an American-anything-goes place. Gavin picks a burger and fries and I get a veggie wrap, thinking I can snarf it down fast. I lead him up the steps to the raised area and we sit near the queen bee table.
My sudden appearance doesn't slow Sandy's loud obnoxious lament over horrid Mr. Conrad teaching American History. The queen bees look affronted; someone unworthy sat at their table. Sandy's blown through their defenses; a force of nature when she wants something. Vampy V keeps predatory eyes on the mall traffic. If she's looking for Daniel, she can forget it. And she really does look like a vampire.
Sitting with my back mostly to Sandy's, she doesn't see me. Almost bored, Gavin plays with his French fries. Conversationalist, I'm not. Naturally, he settles on pep band and my being kicked out.
Behind me, Sandy continues, “Did you guys get a call from Sam? About Julia? He and I have been going out, you know. Anyway, he's researching a teen suicide post. He won't use her name, but he's trying to get everything he can. You knew her, right? From the stable?”
And at Sandy's table the conversation goes sort of like this: Yes, Sam called. Yes, we talked to him. No, we didn't know anything about her wanting to kill herself.
“What confuses Sam is that no one met her boyfriend. Did she make that up like some girls said? That would be ssso ssssad!”
Huh. Actor Sandy switches her elongated ending “s” sounds to the front. Interesting.
Mandy takes the bait: hook, line, and sinker. “We thought so, too, but then we saw them together. He was a complete hunk. I'd hook up with him myself. Julia told us he was sixteen and some college genius or something, but he didn't look sixteen to me.”
Out of the corner of my eye, Mandy reaches for her designer, Texas-sized purse covered in silver crosses and pulls out her phone. “She had a fit that we saw him. The guy tore out, and Julia stood there screaming at us in front of everyone.”
Tammy says, “That's when I knew she was crazy. She reamed us out right here in the food court. I think she was on drugs.”
The conversation actually lulls as they think about Julia. How had Julia's parents missed those signs? If they'dâ¦But what was it Grandma used to say? Something like, “If wishes were horses, everyone would ride.” Yeah, Mom got her love of horses from Grandma, who was a rodeo queen in her youth. Mom wasn't the only one with a broken heart when I'd switched from riding lessons to MA classes.
Sandy sighs with enough angst to match Jennifer Lawrence
at her best. “So it's true? There was a boyfriend?”
“Oh, yeah.” Mandy punches buttons on her phone and shows it to Sandy. “See, I took a photo. If Julia had known, she would have attacked me. Sheâ¦she was weird at the end, you know?”
Sandy plays it right. She takes the phone and looks at the photograph like she doesn't really care. Then she sweeps in for the kill. “Would you mind if I send a copy of this to Sam? He'd like to find the guy and interview him.”
That's when the drama kicks in again at my table. 3J and Sally are coming from the mall entrance and Gavin, who's been happy to play with his French fries, snaps out of his boredom and takes my hand. I've been holding the veggie wrap midway between the table and my mouth.
With a look toward 3J, he says, “Here, let me help you with that.”
Then he guides the wrap to my mouth. It's awkward, but intimate. Some of the sauce slips off and lands on my chin. Embarrassed, I start to dab at it with a paper napkin, but he leans in and licks it off. His tongue is slow and sensual, and my heart jumps up to NASCAR levels. Holy crazy crap! Then, he inches his chair closer and his lips shift from near mine to right on top of them. The kiss is long and sweet as his lips flutter over mine. Like last time, my mouth opens a tiny bit and our breaths mingle. It's suddenly freaking hot. I want out of my coat, out of my shirt, and probably out of my pants.
To the side of me, Sandy stands up and swipes her finger past her nose. Turning her back to the queen bees she sees me and her eyebrows go about a mile high. She recovers fast. “There's Sam now. Thank you for sending the photo. You'll tell me if you think of anything else?”
Her words come through thick fog, breaking only because 3J, with his arm around Sally, punches Gavin in the shoulder and the kiss endsâbut not quickly. It's slow and aching as Gavin pulls back, looking down at me. Fluster bunny me says, “I have to go meet Trish.” Liar, liar pants on fire.
Gavin whispers, “Hey, I don't have your phone number.”
I give it to him, and then tell him to text his. Before I leave him, he takes my hand, pulls out a pen from his backpack, and writes his number on my wrist. The feel as he makes his scratchy marks on my bare skin shoots tendrils into all kinds of private body parts. I have to drag myself away and my nerve ripples won't fade. In the end, he's the one who walks away from me.