Trailer Trash (34 page)

“That was just a chickenshit thing to do,” Amy said. “Nine on two? Is that true?”

“Yeah,” Cody reluctantly admitted. “It’s true.”

It made him feel like more of a wimp, having to talk about being beaten up, but as the day wore on, he grudgingly accepted that it was working in his favor. For the moment at least, whether or not he and Nate were gay seemed to have taken a backseat to the fact that it hadn’t been a fair fight. This was Wyoming, after all. Two men beating each other up in the name of some backward idea of honor was one thing, but kicking the shit out of somebody who was vastly outnumbered? That apparently stank of cowardice. In a week or two, every student at Walter Warren High School might go back to calling him and Nate fags, but in the meantime, nobody was going out of their way to pat the bullies on the back. Lance Donaldson even stopped him after math, hanging this head a bit.

“I never should have gone along with it,” he said. “Brad and Brian— Well, they made it sound more like they were just gonna scare your friend. I didn’t really expect them to take it so far.”

It wasn’t quite an apology, and Cody wasn’t sure he would have accepted it anyway, but he had to give the guy points for effort.

The last surprise came from Christine Lucero, who found him at his locker at the end of the day and threw her arms around his neck.

“Oh my God, my brother is such an asshole.”

Cody could only stand there, stunned. Christine had always been decent to him, but she’d certainly never hugged him before.

She finally let go of him and stood back to meet his eyes. “Are you okay? Is Nate okay?”

“Uh—”

“Listen, I have the car today because Larry’s at wrestling practice. How about if I give you a ride home?”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“I know I don’t need to, but I want to. Besides, you practically live next door.”

“Practically next door” was a bit of an exaggeration, since she lived in the more respectable part of the trailer park, but it was also true that it wasn’t much out of her way. It occurred to him that she might just be leading him into another ambush, but he decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. Her disgust with her brother seemed genuine enough.

She led him through the parking lot to a gigantic, four-door Buick that had definitely seen better days. The upholstery on the ceiling had been stapled back into place every few inches, and hung in pillow-like squares between the staples, reminding him of the inside of a coffin.

“I’m sorry about my brother,” she said as she started the engine.

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know, but still. I honestly don’t know what his problem is. I mean . . .” She sighed and backed out of the parking space, not speaking again until they were headed toward the parking lot exit. “He hates living with our mom, and he’s constantly saying how he’s gonna go live with our dad. But our dad don’t want us now any more than he did when we were kids, and I think it just makes Larry so mad that he doesn’t know what to do. It’s like the only thing he can think of to make himself feel better is putting other people down.”

Cody frowned, considering her words as they turned toward the trailer park. “I guess I hadn’t ever thought of that.”

“You should hear him at home. He’s always going on about the ‘niggers’ and the ‘spics’ and the ‘ragheads’ and the ‘fags.’ I mean Jesus, like it ain’t bad enough we’re trailer trash, barely making rent most months, then he has to go talking like that and make us look worse? And then to team up with those assholes from the Grove, as if they’re his friends. As if they don’t make fun of him when his back is turned. They don’t like him any more than they like you. Only difference is, he kisses their asses.” She kept one hand on the steering wheel and with the other, reached into her purse and pulled out a cigarette. She put it between her lips and pushed the car lighter. “You know why he hates you so much?”

Cody blinked, wondering if he was really supposed to answer that. “Because, uh, well . . .” He was debating how wise it would be to say,
Because I’m gay.
It felt like everybody knew by now anyway, but it still seemed scary to say it to anybody but Nate.

The lighter popped, and she pulled it out and held it to the end of her cigarette. “Two reasons,” she said as she returned the lighter to its plug. “One: I think it pisses him off how you don’t care what anybody says, you know? Like, he’s trying so hard to make you realize he’s better than you, in his mind at least, and you refuse to acknowledge it. And for some reason, he really needs for you to acknowledge it. And then when you and Logan started being friends . . .” They turned into the trailer park, and she slowed down, inching over the speed bumps. The car’s shocks were shot to hell, and the back bumper slammed down onto each bump as they passed, no matter how slow she went. “Larry was always trying so hard to impress Logan, and the harder he tried, the more Logan didn’t care, you know?”

“Uh, no. I had no idea.”

“And that’s kind of the second reason he hates you, I think.”

“Because Logan and I were friends?”

“Well, yes and no.” They drove under the tracks, and she stopped next to his mom’s Duster. She threw the car in park, unhooked her seat belt, and turned to face him. “He’d kill me for saying this, but I almost think he had a crush on Logan. I mean, he’d never admit it, but Larry tried
so hard
to impress him, and it was almost too much. Like, there was this desperation there that I never quite understood. I’m starting to wonder if maybe he’s more like you than he wants to admit.”

Just when he thought she couldn’t surprise him more, she went and said something like that. “You’re saying you think Larry’s gay?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged, looking as if she regretted having said so much. “Maybe not. Maybe he’s just desperate to fit in.”

They fell silent. Outside, the wind blew through the trailer park, rushing across the bare plains. He could hear raised voices from inside Kathy and Pete’s trailer.

“It explains about Nate, though,” Christine said.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I invited him over one night before homecoming, when Larry and I were having a party. Took him into my room—”

Cody’s heart clenched at the thought.

“—but he just freaked out. Went running out of there like somebody was chasing him.”

“So, nothing happened?” He wondered if she could tell how much he hoped that was the case, not because there was anything wrong with Christine, but simply because he hated the thought of anybody else being intimate with Nate.

“He told me it was some religious thing, and then when he went to homecoming with Stacy, I thought maybe he was Mormon.” She laughed and shook her head. “First time that’s ever happened to me.”

“You mean, first time a guy’s told you no?”

“Exactly.” She frowned and pushed her cigarette butt out the narrow crack in the window.

Cody pulled out his own pack of cigarettes, just so he’d have something to fidget with. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Doesn’t it ever bother you, all the things people say?”

“You mean everybody calling me a slut?”

It seemed odd that he was the one blushing, but he nodded. “Yeah.”

“Does it bother you? They talk about you just as much.”

Fair point. He wanted to tell her no, but he felt like he owed her the truth. “It does sometimes. I try to pretend I don’t care, and sometimes I can ignore it. But yeah, it still pisses me off.”

She turned further toward him, curling one knee under her on the bench seat. The car continued to run, the engine a soft hum that couldn’t quite drown out the shouting from Pete and Kathy’s trailer. “It bothers me too, but not for the reasons you probably think.”

She stopped, chewing her lip, and Cody waited.

“It’s just unfair, you know? Logan probably had sex with half the girls at our school, and that was okay. Nobody ever had a bad thing to say about him. Brian Anderson’s the same way. Brad Williams—hell, the day after I had sex with him, he quit talking to me altogether. Went from calling me twice a day and inviting me over and buying me little presents and telling me he loved me to pretending I didn’t exist, just like that.” She snapped her fingers. “Ever since then, he and Brian snicker every time they see me, like somehow I should be ashamed of screwing them, but they don’t need to be ashamed of screwing me.”

“Uh . . .” Cody hadn’t ever thought of it in those terms before.

“And my brother. Hell, the only reason he ain’t nailed every girl in the school is ’cause most of them have better taste than that. But even if he had, that’d be just fine, as far as everybody else is concerned, right? ‘Boys will be boys,’ and everybody just laughs about how they’re sowin’ their oats or whatever. Well who the hell do they think they’re sowin’ them with? Girls like me, that’s who!” She shook her head. Her chin trembled a bit, but she bit her lower lip and took a deep breath. “So guys like Logan and Brad and Brian are just doing what boys are supposed to do, but me? I’m a slut, just because I ain’t a total prude. Now, how come they get to do whatever they want, but I’m supposed to be a goddamn nun?”

“I don’t know.” He was too busy trying to take it all in. He’d always felt a bit bad for Christine, because he knew her dad was no better than his. He’d always thought she should be able to do better. It had never occurred to him how big the double standard was. “It is kind of shitty, now that you mention it.”

She sighed, looking out the bug-spattered windshield at the distant highway. “Well, I guess that’s how I feel about you and Nate, too. I mean, you guys are eighteen. You’re about ready to graduate. Everybody expects that after high school, people will pair up and settle down and get married. Guys like Brad and Brian will have to quit nailing everything that moves, and I have one year left before I have to make some guy put a ring on my finger just so I can start popping out babies, whether I want them or not. And here’s you and Nate, just minding your own business, not hurtin’ anybody. Just, I don’t know, being friends or being boyfriends or whatever you guys are. If one of you was a girl, nobody’d bat an eye. Hell, if you was both girls, people still wouldn’t mind. They’d just assume you were best friends. But since you’re both
guys
, and you’re clearly not out banging all the girls you can land, they decide it’s cool to jump you, nine on two. Like somehow that makes them so fucking tough.” She shook her head and smiled at him. “The truth is, they’re all just a bunch of goddamned douche bags, you know?”

It was said so frankly, in such a matter-of-fact tone, that Cody was reminded of Logan, and he laughed. “They really are.” He opened the door, but stopped with one foot out. “Thanks for the ride.”

“No problem. And Cody?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell Nate . . . Hell, I don’t know what. Just tell him I hope he’s back to school soon.”

“I will.” Cody didn’t bother to tell her he was hoping the exact same thing.

Nate’s father skipped work the next day. Nate heard him downstairs, pacing the kitchen, talking on the phone for what felt like hours at a time. Nate’s stomach grumbled angrily, wanting breakfast, but he stayed sequestered in his room, unable to face the confrontation waiting for him downstairs.

Eventually, his dad called him down for lunch, and later for dinner, but he never sat with Nate to eat. The only time he spoke was to ask Nate for the names of the boys involved. Other than that, he barely even looked at Nate, and Nate returned to his room each time, hanging his head.

His dad kept him home the next day too, and the day after that. Nate began to wonder if it was going to be like this from now on. It was like being in prison, only emerging from his room for meals. At least the physical pain from the beating was receding, the swelling in his face going down, and he hadn’t peed blood again since that first night.

His body was healing, even if his heart wasn’t.

On Thursday, Nate broke the silence.

“Is anything going to happen?” He was at the table eating the Hamburger Helper his dad had put down in front of him. His dad was at the other end of the kitchen, washing the dishes and pointedly ignoring Nate. “You asked for the names of the boys who jumped us. Did you talk to them or anything?”

His dad sighed, but didn’t turn to face him. “There isn’t much I can do. I’m not allowed to pursue it myself. I have to give it to one of the other officers, and in cases like this, it comes down to your word against theirs. And one of them has an uncle who works for the sheriff’s office.” He shook his head. “It’s complicated. But the short version is no, it’s being chalked up to boys being boys.”

Nate considered that, staring at his dad’s back. “You think I deserve it anyway, don’t you? This is what I get for being gay?”

“I don’t think you deserve it,” his dad said quietly. “But, like it or not, sometimes things like this happen when you insist on being different.”

Nate didn’t ask anything else after that. He wasn’t sure he could stand to hear the answer.

But on Friday, his father surprised him by coming into his room a bit after three. Nate had been lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to his copy of the tape he’d made Cody for Christmas. He sat up quickly, turning off the music. His dad sank heavily into the chair by Nate’s desk.