voice surprised me.
Keep it together, pussy
! I cursed at myself.
“No, you idiot. Just get the hell away from me.” She took my arm, pulling it toward the door. I
didn’t budge. She started beating my chest. “You’re just a stupid hick. I hate you, you dumb redneck. I
hate this town. I don’t want you in my life.” She was crying and hitting me with her tiny fists. I barely
felt her physical blows, but her words felt like daggers cutting into my soul.
I grabbed her wrists and held them up, “I know you don’t mean that. I’m going to forgive you for
it.” I went to wipe the tear from her eye, but she turned away from me.
It was then that Joe opened the door. I thought she had locked it.
“I think you need to leave, Caleb.”
It surprised me that he knew my name. How much did he know about Sylvie and me? Had she
confided in him?
“We’re not done talking.”
“You’re done,” he said matter-of-factly.
I didn’t care for Uncle Joe. “With all due respect, sir, this is none of your business.”
“Sylvie is my business. Now I’ll ask you nicely one more time, and then I’m going to kick your
ass out of here. Please leave.”
I turned to Sylvie, hoping she’d change her mind. Instead, she just crossed her arms and shook
her head. “Just go, Cal.”
The pain in my heart was greater than any physical ailment I’d experienced. I walked past her
toward the window, my usual exit, when she said, “You can use the front door.”
I would have laughed at my stupidity if my body weren’t consumed with raw sadness. I felt tired,
even more so than after a double practice or game. I felt deflated, maybe even defeated.
* * * *
I struggled to convince myself Sylvie was being a bitch, but it proved an impossible task no
matter how hard I tried. I even accepted Wendy Watson’s invitation to Sadie’s, deciding she was a
fine substitute. In reality, I was still miserable and didn’t want to go to a stupid dance, but Wendy had
sweetened the deal by promising me sex. I was a virgin and it was an attractive offer. Maybe one that
would even help me get over my confusion and despair.
My mom said Sylvie was just being a girl and that I had to give her time. This didn’t seem like
normal girly melodrama, though. It was one thing for Sylvie to hate me for what I’d done, but she
ignored Mandy and Momma too. That just seemed cruel, and Sylvie didn’t have a cruel bone in her
little body.
The night of the dance, I stepped out on my front porch in my Sunday suit, holding the white rose
corsage Wendy had insisted I buy. I opened the door of my car when I saw Sylvie. She was sitting on
her front porch in a pair of frayed denim shorts and a white tank top with her hair tied in a high
ponytail. The St Michael’s medallion hung around her neck. I didn’t think I had seen a more beautiful
girl in my life.
“Hiya, Tex,” she said, smiling softly.
“Hey, Sylvie,” I replied with measured caution in my voice. I didn’t want to get my hopes up.
She walked over to me with those long graceful legs. The tank top slid slightly off her shoulder
revealing the strap of a lacy pink bra. She stood there with her hands in her pockets, staring at me.
“You look handsome.”
“I’m going to the dance,” I muttered stupidly. Of course she knew where I was going.
“Your tie’s crooked.”
I threw the corsage on the passenger seat and attempted to straighten my tie. She laughed at my
efforts.
“You’re hopeless, Tex. Come here.”
I walked over to her. She undid and retied my tie expertly. Where had she learned to do that?
“I don’t have to go,” I whispered, leaning in much closer to her than I needed to.
“Yes, you do. Go and have fun. You deserve it.”
“Is that what you really want?” I asked, adjusting the fallen strap of her tank top, letting my
fingers linger over the soft, bare skin of her shoulder. She shivered against my touch.
“Yes, it’s what I want for you,” she replied with a smile so tight it looked painful. She patted my
chest, backed away from me. “Hey, I heard that you were offered a few scholarships already. That’s
really great.”
There was genuine happiness in her voice, but the way she cast her eyes downward told me she
was sad too. Was she worried I’d leave her here when I went off to college? I was planning to talk to
her about that, hoping we could choose together, but in light of current events it didn’t seem prudent.
“I know, can you believe it? I didn’t think that would happen until next year.”
“Do you know which offer you’ll accept?”
“I’m waiting it out.” I bent down so my mouth was close to her ear. “I’m very good at waiting.”
She moved out of my reach. “Well, that’s smart. Have fun tonight.” She walked back into the
house before I could say anything else.
* * * *
“Cal, you know if we have sex tonight, you have to be my boyfriend.”
“What?”
We had just pulled up to the school. I hadn’t been paying attention to Wendy the whole ride here.
I’d been preoccupied with my conversation with Sylvie. It should have been encouraging, but I had an
unease in the pit of my stomach.
“You heard me. I’m not a slut or anything.”
She wasn’t? “Wendy, I’m not really looking for a girlfriend right now.”
The smile on Wendy’s face transformed to a sneer so fast I had to blink my eyes. “Why? Because
of Sylvie Cranston?”
“Maybe.”
“She’s a total freak. No one likes her but you. You guys don’t even make sense together. I’m the
head cheerleader and you’re captain of the football team. We make sense. You and her… It’s like
you’re taking pity on her.”
I had never felt like hitting a woman before. My fists even clenched, but my breeding wouldn’t
allow me to do any more than that. “I’m warning you, Wendy, don’t talk about her like that. It’s none
of your business.”
“I know you try to hide it, but I can see you’re into her.”
Was that what everyone thought? I felt my blood boiling in my veins as I gritted my teeth. “I
don’t fucking try to hide it.
She
does. You are right. She is the reason I won’t go out with you.”
Wendy leaned in close to me, letting her hair graze my cheek. It felt like starched sandpaper. I
took a deep breath, which was a mistake because her perfume invaded my nostrils and strangled me.
“Is it a curiosity thing? Does she do nasty things in bed? Because I can—”
“Shut up, Wendy.”
“God, what a waste. You don’t see that you deserve better than her?”
I stared at Wendy, seeing her ugliness through all that makeup and cherry lipstick, “There is no
one better. Get out.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” I leaned across her and opened the passenger side door. “Get the fuck out of
the car.”
“You’re not coming in with me?”
“Hell, no.”
“But…but…you’re my ride.”
“Wendy, please exit my vehicle. Don’t worry, you’ll find some other guy to ride.” It was a cold
statement, but I was done with Wendy Watson.
Wendy turned to me once more. “You’ll be sorry for this, Cal.”
“I don’t think so.”
She slammed the door so hard I heard the window rattle in the frame. I was just glad she was
gone. I had such a fierce need to get to Sylvie it was burning my skull. I quenched the sinking feeling
in my stomach, knowing I wouldn’t feel relief until I saw her.
I made the fifteen-minute drive in ten. I tapped on her window, but there was no answer. I pulled
on it, but it was locked. I ran into the woods, stumbling over a few branches, searching for her in the
dark. I finally made it to the lake and breathed a deep sigh of relief when I saw her on the dock
fishing. I could just make out her shadowy figure with the small lantern set next to her.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, blinking rapidly.
I took a deep breath, telling myself to calm the fuck down. “I wanted to dance.”
“Why didn’t you stay at the dance then?” she asked, with a weak smile.
“The girl I wanted to dance with wasn’t there.” I walked over to her and held out my hand.
“She’s here.”
Sylvie stared at my hand for a minute, biting her lower lip nervously. She finally took it with
measured hesitation, but I grasped it tightly and pulled her up.
“We don’t have any music.”
I chuckled. “I’m your Huckleberry,” I replied, taking out my cell phone.
“Is that new?”
“Yeah, it’s cool. I can download music on it.” I scrolled through the selections until I found the
song I was looking for.
Brown-Eyed Girl
started playing. I’d downloaded it because it reminded me
of her. “You like Van Morrison, right? You were listening to them the first day I met you.”
“You remember that?”
I slipped the phone into my pocket. “I remember everything.” She slid her arms around my neck
and I grasped her waist. It wasn’t the slowest song, but we danced to it as if it was. I held her in my
arms as tightly as I could, knowing this was where I belonged. I loved her and although she’d never
said, I knew she loved me too.
“You smell good,” she commented, her body relaxing as we shuffled to the music.
“You smell like dead fish,” I replied.
This elicited a hearty laugh from her. Sylvie always got my weird sense of humor. I was kidding,
though—she smelled fine. Actually, she smelled divine.
“Cal, I’m sorry,” she said. “I wish things were simpler. I wish—”
“Shush, girl, I’m trying to dance with you. Just stop talking and let me hold you.”
She did and when the dance was over, she surprised me by putting a hand on each side of my
face and pulling me toward her. It was a passionate kiss, open-mouthed with our tongues exploring
hungrily. Her lips were soft, and she smelled of mint and strawberry. I breathed her in, tasting her
scent. I let my hands travel up her back and felt my dick grow hard when she pressed her body closer
to mine. There we were, two figures against the pale Prairie Marsh moonlight, me in my Sunday suit
and her in her fishing outfit, but it didn’t matter what we were wearing or where we’d come from. We
belonged with each other. To each other.
When she pulled away, we were both breathing hard.
“Sylvie, I’m really sorry.”
She covered my mouth with her hand. “Don’t apologize. It was bound to happen sooner or later.
Just kiss me again.”
I didn’t get her statement, but hell if I was going to deny her or myself another kiss. We made out
like that for a few minutes until she pushed me away again. “Someone’s in my house,” she said with a
hitched voice.
I looked up through the densely packed woods and saw the light streaming from her window.
“Yeah, it’s your dad.”
“No, Cal. My bedroom light is on.”
I sighed in frustration, pissed off by her distraction. “Again…it’s your daddy.”
“No, he never goes into my room.” The panic in her voice was wavering on hysteria. “I have to
go.”
“Calm down, I’ll go with you.”
“Stay here,” she said with a command to her voice I wasn’t expecting.
“Like hell I will.” She was already running through the woods. I ran after her. We made it to her
house and she was about to run to the front door when I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her
toward the back of the house. “Let’s check it out first.”
She nodded. “’Kay.”
I walked her backward toward her windowsill and we both crouched below it. I could make out
some shadowy figures through the blinds. They were slanted just enough to allow a visible but
obstructed view.
I swallowed hard as my spine went rigid at the sight. Mr Cranston was sitting on Sylvie’s bed,
bleeding from his head as two men took turns punching him. Their backs were to me. One was tall
with broad shoulders and balding. The other was shorter, but with a strong build. Judging from his
laughter, he was taking pleasure in Mr Cranston’s pain. They both wore baseball caps, but curls of
dark hair stuck out from the edges. I’d never witnessed anything like this in my life, except at the
movies. One of them pulled out a gun and held it to Harry Cranston’s head.
I turned to Sylvie just as her mouth dropped open. She was about to scream. I cupped my hand
against her lips, suppressing the sound before it escaped.
“Shut up,” I whispered and pulled her down so we were out of sight. “Who are they?”
I released my hand, but kept it close in case she felt the need to scream again. She looked up at
me, white as a ghost, lower lip trembling. “Cancer,” she answered.
“Where is she?” one of them said loud enough for us to hear.
“I told you, I don’t know,” Mr Cranston replied. He sounded resigned, like he knew he wasn’t
going to survive this. It freaked me out.
A fat tear formed in the corner of Sylvie’s eye as her body shivered violently against mine. I
pressed my hand against her mouth again. I didn’t trust her to keep whispering. She bit the skin of my
palm so hard that I released her. “I have to go help him.”
“There is nothing you can do. They have a gun.” I slid my phone from my pocket and dialed the
number on my cell, keeping one arm around her. It was just three digits but my hands were shaking so
much I wasn’t sure how I managed it. I spoke hurriedly, giving the pertinent information only as my