“Well, congrats on coming out,” she said. “That’s a big deal.”
“Thanks,” I said. “No one’s said anything about it since. I love the whole
if we don’t talk about it, it’ll go away
way of thinking.”
“Parents. Can’t live with ’em, wouldn’t exist without them.”
I nodded slowly and said, “Lucy, I need to tell you something.”
“Sounds serious.”
“It is.”
“Serious it away, Mr. Serious.”
“You know Jenny Moore, right?”
“Yeah,” she said. “The missing girl.”
I paused. “I saw her.”
“What?” she asked.
“I saw her. In my backyard.”
“Were you on something?”
“No,” I said. “Well, I drank too much after my date with Alex, but this was so real. Lucy, I saw her.”
She let out a sigh. “Dade, I hate to say it, but you sound crazy.”
“Lucy, you have to believe me.”
She stared straight ahead into the flickering glow of the giant screen. Her mouth moved slowly as she chewed on her candy. Someone who didn’t know her as well might have thought she wasn’t paying attention, but I knew she was actually thinking.
She turned to me. “Dade, either you’re the most fucked-up guy on the face of the earth or the most special. I think that more and more every day.”
“Um, thanks, I think.”
“You’re very welcome.”
“You believe me, though, right?” I asked. I needed her to believe me. For some reason I thought that if she believed me, then I was sane, but if she didn’t, then I was crazy. It was all on her.
“I don’t know,” she finally said. “If you need me to, I will. I trust you. But this is a stretch. You gotta realize that, right?”
I sighed and fell back into my seat. I hadn’t realized that I’d been pitched toward her, practically falling at her feet.
“People have seen her here,” I said. “That’s why I wanted to come.”
“But what does that mean?” she asked. “Why would she choose you? Why would she choose anyone? Does this mean she’s dead? I don’t get it.”
On the screen a man stood up from his chair and lunged toward the black girl. She backed away dramatically. At first it looked like she was going to start crying, but then she let out a laugh.
I said, “I’ve asked myself that a hundred times since it happened. I have no idea. It scares me to think about it, though. To be associated with her.”
“Do you think she’s trying to tell you something?”
The thought brought a bowling ball feeling of sick to my stomach. It was completely possible that she was trying to tell me something, and it was hard to imagine that it could be anything good. I wondered about all the other people who’d claimed to have seen her. Had they really? And if so, did she talk to them?
“I can’t talk about this,” I said. “Forget I said anything.”
“Dade—”
“No. Seriously, Lucy. It’s not you. You’ve done nothing wrong. You’re a good friend.” I covered my eyes. “You listened. That’s all I asked for, but now we gotta switch the subject. In fact, can we go?”
“Yeah, sweetie,” she said, standing. “Let’s go.”
The walls of the theater hall were covered with red velvet wallpaper and the floor was worn black linoleum. I felt dizzy as we took the grand staircase to the foyer. I couldn’t feel my legs, and I didn’t want to look down for fear that I’d see they weren’t there. So instead I looked up at the chandeliers. They were huge and ornate. They looked like sculptures of sea urchins made of crystal and light.
When we were outside, I looked around at the parking lot, at the sky. I took in the dirt and shit smell of the Midwest air, the stuff coming in from the patches of farmland just a couple of miles up the road. I wanted to see her right then. I wanted Jenny Moore to appear to me at that moment, to tell me what it all meant.
There was nothing to do, so we drove around town. There wasn’t much talking, just singing over the wind as it came through the windows. I let Lucy drive. It felt strange to be slouched in my own passenger seat, like I was witnessing a scene of my life from someone else’s perspective, watching someone else navigate without a destination in mind.
“Let’s go to Taco Taco,” I suddenly said. “If he’s there, you can meet him.”
“I get to meet him?” she said. “I finally get to meet the famous Alex Kincaid?”
“Yes. You get to meet him.”
“Hurrah!”
“But you have to be cool. We have to be really, really cool.”
“Are you saying I’m not? Dade, I am the coolest person you have ever met in your entire life. Do I need to show you my music collection again? Do I need to take you to a better, gayer gay bar? Fuck this Alex kid. I’m so cooler than he is.”
“You’re not. Trust me. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Few people are as cool as Alex Kincaid.”
“Well, if I weren’t a lesbian, his name alone would turn me on. But that’s not enough.”
“I know, right?” I said. “He totally lives up to the hotness of his name.”
“You’re in love.”
“What?”
“You’re trying to play it cool. And you’re doing a good job of it, actually, which makes me proud. It means you’re making progress. But I can feel it coming off you. You love him.”
“It’s not love,” I said. “I don’t believe you can fall in love so fast. I think you have to build it.”
“Wow, how mature,” Lucy said. “Dade Hamilton’s growing up.”
We rolled into the parking lot of Taco Taco. The strip mall lights had malfunctioned and were flickering wildly, making the whole parking lot look like an empty dance floor. Lucy parked near the door. Alex was behind the counter and Jay was out in the dining area. There was no one else around, and they were tossing a foam football back and forth.
“Is that him?” she asked.
“Yeah. Behind the counter.”
“He’s cute. Total sexy loser.”
“Don’t say he’s a loser. He’s not a loser. He’s a good guy.”
“You know what I mean,” she said.
“I do. But still.”
“Sensitive.”
“What now?” I asked.
“What do you mean what now?”
“Should I go in?”
“Um, yeah. We should both go in.”
The door gave a little buzz when we walked in. It was barely audible over the heavy metal they were blaring over the speakers. For a second they didn’t acknowledge our presence. Alex finished throwing a pass toward Jay, then he looked over and noticed us and his face lit up with this magical smile, and for a moment I thought that maybe Lucy was right. As strange as it sounded, maybe I really did love this boy.
“Well, well, well,” he said over the music. “Look who it is.”
“Hey, it’s Dave!” Jay called out.
I could tell he knew better, so I didn’t bother correcting him. Both of them were grinning stupidly with bloodshot eyes. Lucy yelled, “You guys look like you’ve been smoking pot all night.”
Alex reached under the counter and turned the music down a bit. “You guys want a burrito or something?”
“A Deus ex Mexicana?” Jay said.
“I’m okay,” I said. “I think. I may change my mind.”
“Who’s the chick?” Jay said.
“I’m not a chick. I’m a lady.”
“Well, then. Who’s the lady?”
“This is my friend Lucy,” I said.
“Nice to meet you, Lucy,” Alex said. He was sitting on the counter, gently kicking his legs back and forth. He looked so cute in his baggy cargo pants and the ancient-looking yellow T-shirt that he was wearing wrong side out. “Dade told me that you’re a cool cat and I trust his opinion. Do you want a quesadilla? A chimichanga?”
“She should have a Deus ex Mexicana,” Jay said, pointing at Lucy. “I’ve never seen a girl eat one before. It would be interesting to see.”
“What in the hell is a Deus ex Mexicana?” Lucy asked.
“Something you don’t want,” I said.
“I’d take a taco,” she said. “Two tacos.”
“Two tacos for the lady,” Jay said. “I’m on it.”
He jogged to the counter and swung his legs over in one smooth motion.
“So what brings you here?” Alex asked.
“We were just driving around, doing nothing,” I said. “Thought we’d stop by.”
“Glad you did.” He was looking at me with this mischievous grin. It was a look that seemed to serve no other purpose than making me insanely horny. And it was working.
“So, Alex,” Lucy said. “Dade’s told me so much about you.”
“He’s mentioned you too. Good that we’re finally meeting.”
“He really likes you.”
“Lucy,” I said in a warning tone.
Alex laughed. “I like him too.”
“Good,” she said. “Because if you break his heart, I’ll cut your Taco Tacos off.”
“Sounds painful,” Alex said. “But I catch your drift. I don’t think you have anything to worry about. And in turn, I don’t either.”
The sly grin never left his face. “What are you two doing tonight?” he asked. “Wanna start trouble?”
“What kind of trouble?” Lucy asked. “Sounds like it could be fun.”
“Bert McGraw is having a party at his parents’ house,” Alex said. “After Jay and I close up, we’re going to stop by. I need to make an appearance. Should be huge. Ten kegs. Kids from every high school in eastern Iowa. Or at least all the stupid ones.”
Jay came out of the kitchen with a bag of tacos. He handed them to Lucy. “The SUV crowd. The cool kids. The rich kids. The preps.”
“Shell necklaces and too much cologne,” Alex said.
“Guys with too much gel in their hair,” I added.
“It’s always too much gel,” Alex said. “Even a single drop of gel is too much.”
Lucy jumped in. “Even the mere thought of gel is too much.”
Jay smiled at her. “There you go. Lady Lucy’s getting the hang of it.”
“You know, I’d really rather not see Bert McGraw,” I said.
“The last time I saw him he called me a faggot in front of the entire Cedarville High lunchroom.”
“Screw that guy,” Jay said. “If he does or says anything to you, come find me.”
“No, find me,” Alex said. He curled his arm in front of himself and flexed his bicep. “I’ve got bigger muscles.”
“I’ll be fine,” I laughed.
“Totally,” Lucy said. “And actually, if he does say anything, come find me. I’m stronger than both of these fools combined.”
Chapter 13
It was almost midnight by the time I turned my BMW onto Bert McGraw’s street. Alex was in the front seat with me. Lucy and Jay were in back. Bert lived on Cedar Glen Way, a street that ran through a subdivision called Cedar Glen Terrace. It was known around town that if you lived in Cedar Glen Terrace, you were hot shit. The houses were huge, set back far from the street with sprawling lawns that their owners probably referred to as
grounds
. A few had circular driveways in front and one even had its row hedges trimmed to look like a line of horses bucked back on their hind legs. It made me think of Fessica and all the horses in her bedroom. I made a mental note to find her in the next few days and apologize. We parked at the end of the row of cars that lined the streets. The red pickup truck in front of us had a Cedarville Warriors decal on its rear windshield, a big blue
W
outlined in red.
“School pride confuses me,” Jay said.
“Let’s go in, get our business done, and leave,” Alex said.
“Sounds good to me,” Jay said.
Bert’s massive house was all noisy and lit up, a box of music and light and crowd noise. A hundred pointless conversations blending into one. There was something almost apocalyptic about the way kids were coming toward the house from both ends of the street like blank-minded zombies slouching toward the scent of beer. Of course Bert McGraw was such a douche cougar that he had his younger brother Chip working the door. Chip was basically a younger version of Bert, a short bulldog-looking dude with psychotic eyes. We huddled in with the other people waiting to get in the door.
“This party is so gonna get busted,” Jay said.
“You okay?” Alex asked.
“I’m fine,” I said.
“You look green.”
“Really?”
Alex laughed. “A little. You can wait in the car, you know. I don’t think you have to, but—”
“Dade’ll be fine,” Lucy said. “You’ll be fine, right, Dade?”
Somehow hearing her saying this swept away the small amount of nervousness I felt. I
would
be fine. No one was going to say or do anything. I was here with friends. If anything came up, they’d be there to help.
“She’s right,” I said. “I’m fine.”
It was our turn at the door. Two of Chip’s friends were standing in front of it with their arms crossed, two chubby fifteen-year-olds trying to act like they were tougher than they really were. Chip stood off to the side, a clipboard and cell phone in his hand. A metal baseball bat rested at his feet.
“I don’t know you guys,” he said flatly. “Not familiar. Explain?”
“I know your brother,” Alex said. “We’re old friends. Is he around?”
“I need a name,” Chip said. “No one gets anything without a name.”
“Jesus Christ,” Lucy said.
“I’m Alex Kincaid. But you can call me Jesus Christ.”
Jay put his hand to his mouth, but not before letting out a little laugh. Chip gave us a hateful glare and made a call on his phone. After a brief conversation he hung up.
“So do we get the bat?” Alex asked.
“No,” Chip said. His friends were still leaning against the door and staring at us. “Bert says you get in. But any excuse to use the bat, I will.”
“What the heck, man?” Lucy said. “What did we do to you?”
“Well, I don’t like dirtballs,” Chip said. And then he looked directly at me. “And I especially don’t like faggots.”
I looked over at Alex. I thought back to the cafeteria, when I’d looked over at Pablo after Bert had called me out during lunch. The same silence that had blanketed me then now blanketed me and my three friends. Chip went on staring at me angrily while his fat friends snickered to themselves. I waited for Alex to make the next move.