Trailer Trash (39 page)

“Nate needs his car. And you need a ride. This seems like the obvious solution.” He let go, and Cody stared down at the keys, feeling stunned.

Was Nate’s dad really giving him Nate’s car?

“Tell my son I love him,” Bruce said. “No matter what.”

Cody made his way back up the porch steps to his front door, still stunned by Bruce’s gift. He’d offered him a ride back to his house in the Grove—it seemed like the least he could do—but Bruce had just smiled and said, “Seems like a good night for a walk. I could use the exercise.”

And now here Cody was, with the keys to Nate’s Mustang in his hand.

“What was that about?” his mom asked as he stepped back inside.

Cody looked around at the shabby, run-down trailer that had been his home for as long as he could remember. There’d been a house once, when he was just a baby and his parents were still together, but he only knew about it from a few faded photographs. This narrow, cramped space was all he’d ever known. It suddenly felt safe, and the rest of the world seemed incredibly huge and scary.

Cody sank into the armchair. “He gave me Nate’s car.”

His mom blinked, looking as stunned as he felt. “He what?”

“He said I can drive it Iowa. To be with Nate.”

Her fingers flew to her lips, her eyes wide. “I can’t believe it.”

“Me neither. I mean—” The more he thought about it, the less sense it made. “Why would he do that? He must realize Nate could do better. He must know that, right? Why would he want somebody like me—”

His mom came off the couch, closing the distance between them quickly.

“No.” She shook her head, perching on the edge of the coffee table and cupping his face in her hands. It was such a wonderful gesture—so simple, and yet so maternal, that Cody was suddenly fighting tears. “Don’t you start believing the things people say. You’ve been told your whole life that you’re a no-good kid, but it isn’t true. Bad kids lie and steal and cause trouble, but you’ve never done any of those things. The only thing you’ve ever done is had the bad luck to be born to two lousy parents in a place that can’t accept you for who you are. You’re a good kid who’s been dealt a bad hand. You’re the only decent thing I’ve ever managed to create. You’re better than you know, Cody. You’re better than this whole goddamned town, and if you have a ticket out of here, you take it. You take it, and you run as fast as you can, and don’t ever, ever look back.”

“Mom . . .” He didn’t know what to say. He had no way of telling her how much it meant to hear those words from her. “What about you? All the bills and the rent, and there aren’t any jobs in Warren. How will you—”

“Don’t you worry about me.”

Cody still thought it might be wrong to leave her, but the surety that he’d never have a chance like this again kept him moving forward as he packed his few things. It wasn’t until midway through the next day that his mom stopped in the doorway to his room, leaning against the doorframe as he sorted through the last of his clothes.

“Maybe I could go with you,” she said. “Just as far as Cheyenne?”

“To your sister’s house?”

“I took a chance and wasted two bucks at the pay phone. She thinks she can get me a job cleaning rooms with her at the Best Western. Says I can stay with her for a couple of weeks, till I find something I can afford.”

He found himself smiling, glad that he wouldn’t have to leave her in Warren. “It’d be nice to have some company, part of the way, at least.”

It cost him a few extra days, but he didn’t mind the delay. Not too much, at any rate. It seemed like the least he could do for his mom, who needed time to close all their accounts and pack her own things. He had nightmares nearly every night where some shadowy figure appeared at the front door and told them they weren’t allowed to leave.

But they did.

They opted to leave their furniture behind—none of it was worth saving anyway. Half their stuff was packed in garbage bags instead of suitcases, but who cared anyway? Five days after being handed the keys to Nate’s Mustang, Cody and his mom climbed into it and left Warren, Wyoming, behind forever.

It was the best feeling in the world.

“Are you sure you don’t want to spend the night?” Cody’s mom asked him that afternoon, after they’d finished unpacking her bags from the car. “You could make it the rest of the way to Iowa City tomorrow.”

It was true that staying in Cheyenne would have saved him a night in a hotel, but it also would have left an eleven-hour drive for the next day, with the change in time zones working against him.

Besides, he was ready to get the hell out of Wyoming.

“I’m sure.”

And there, on the front step of his aunt’s duplex, with the wind blowing only a bit less than it did in Warren, his mom hugged him for the first time in ages. He couldn’t have said when the last time had been. It felt good. He was glad she was getting a new start on life too.

“Take care of yourself,” she said, stepping back to meet his eyes. “And be careful.”

“You too.”

He climbed back into the Mustang and waved good-bye. And then there was nothing but him, a handful of beaten-up eight-track tapes that reminded him of Nate, and a long, straight ribbon of road. Every mile marker Cody passed seemed to take a bit of weight off his shoulders.

He stopped for the night in North Platte. His motel room was tiny and reeked of smoke, but it was cheap. He topped off the gas tank so he’d be ready to leave first thing in the morning, and then, before going back to his room, he pumped two dollars into the pay phone and dialed Nate’s number.

In less than twenty-four hours, it’d be his number too.

The sky was fading to twilight, the stars just beginning to show, and Cody thought as the phone started to ring that it might have been the most beautiful night he’d ever seen.

Nate answered after two rings, sounding surprised, and Cody figured he wasn’t used to the phone ringing much at their apartment. “Hello?”

“It’s me.”

“Cody? Oh my God, where are you? My dad wouldn’t tell me what was going on. He said he’d done what he could to help, and I could tell he was all proud of himself when he said it, but he wouldn’t tell me what he meant, no matter how many times I asked. Did he give you a ride to the bus station?”

“Uh, no.” Cody couldn’t stop smiling. “He gave me your car.”

“What?” Nate laughed. “I knew he was up to something. He kept telling me I’d just have to wait and see, but—” He laughed again. “Where are you?”

“I’m in Nebraska. I’ve been looking at the maps your dad gave me. I think it’ll be another eight hours or so tomorrow, and then . . .”

“You’ll be here?”

It still seemed too good to be true. “I should be.”

Nate started to give him directions to the apartment, but Cody had nothing to write on, and the time two dollars paid for ran out way too fast. They were cut off before they even had a chance to say good-bye.

No matter. Nothing could keep them apart now.

Cody went back to his motel room and lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, so full of joy and wonder that even the spider on the wall and the line of ants under the sink couldn’t bring him down.

Of course, his subconscious decided to play dirty.

He dreamed of icy roads where every exit led back to Warren, the Mustang spinning out of control, semis bearing down on him with Logan in the passenger seat, and Nate always just out of reach.

It made for a depressing start the next day, and for the next few hours, he felt sure he was still dreaming. Nebraska stretched on for an eternity, the final bit of road from Lincoln to Omaha seemingly taking him through a time warp straight out of the
Twilight Zone
where he drove and drove but never got any closer to Iowa.

But, finally, he crossed the state line.

After that, his melancholy melted away. How could he be worried in a place filled with so much green? Miles and miles and miles of trees, and real music on the radio, and cute little towns that somehow seemed infinitely cleaner than the one he’d left behind.

He arrived in Iowa City a little before six o’clock. Nate had told him to follow the signs to the university, and so after stopping long enough to put the Mustang’s top down, Cody set out in search of his new life. He had visions of finding their apartment, of knocking on the door, having Nate open it with his face full of surprise.

He found the college, but no address that matched the one in his hand. He stopped at several gas stations to check the map in the pay phone phone book, but each time, he found that the pertinent pages had been torn out. He silently cursed the selfish bastards who’d decided their need outweighed the need of everybody else in the world. Finally, he did what he should have done from the beginning and used the pay phone. At least it wasn’t a long-distance call.

“You’re not far at all,” Nate told him. “Wait right there. I’ll find you.”

Cody went inside and bought a bottle of Coke. He thought he’d wait in the car, but it was hotter than hell in the sun, the air wet and sticky on his desert-born skin. He’d never been one for shorts, always thinking his legs were too skinny and way too white, but he had a feeling Iowa would cure him of that pretty quick. He found a bit of shade behind the ICE cooler.

Less than five minutes later, Nate appeared.

He looked the same, only different. Still blond. Still tall. Still so damn preppy, he might as well have been an extra in
Pretty in Pink
, but there was a looseness about him that was new. His hair was longer, his smile somehow more natural than it had ever been in Warren.

He leaned against the ice machine the way he had the day they’d met. “Hey, man, can I bum a smoke?”

Cody smiled. “Wish I could help, but I quit.”

“Me too.” Nate edged closer, not quite daring to pull Cody into his arms, but he reached out and took his hand. He looked down at the ring on Cody’s finger.

“Do you want it back now?” Cody asked.

Nate smiled and shook his head. “Not ever.”

For a moment, they just stood there, Cody thinking how he wanted nothing more than to throw his arms around Nate’s neck, but that seemed bold for such a public place.

Nate laughed, as if reading his mind. “You ready to come see our place?”

“Absolutely.” He dug the keys out of his pocket and handed them to Nate. “But I think I’ll let you drive.”

The apartment complex was made up of four giant, boxy buildings, all painted charcoal gray. They looked old, but not too run-down, and they were surrounded by expanses of green grass and towering trees. Cody spotted a playground just past the nearest building.

“It’s like we’re living in a park.” He didn’t think he could have loved it more if it’d been a mansion.

“There’s a swimming pool too,” Nate told him as they climbed out of the Mustang.

“Are the people cool?”

“The ones I’ve met so far, yeah. The guys right across from us are a couple too. I mean, they’re way older than us, like in their fifties maybe, but at least we don’t have to worry about them being assholes, right?” He took Cody’s hand and led him up three flights of stairs. “This is us. Building B, apartment 413. I don’t have much furniture yet . . .”

Cody didn’t care. He just wanted Nate to stop talking and open the damn door. He didn’t even look around once they were inside. The door was barely even closed before he was in Nate’s arms.

He should have been tired after such a long drive, but all he could think about was how good it felt to be here, in their apartment, their space, in a town where nobody knew him or his mother or his past, so far from Wyoming, the wind was nothing but a playful breeze.

“I can’t believe I’m actually here.”

“And before July first, even.” Nate rubbed his back, holding Cody tight. “So, uh . . . this is probably a dumb question, but you didn’t go to prom, did you?”

“Ha!” Cody stepped back just enough to meet Nate’s eyes. “What do you think?”

“Neither did I, and I know you’ll think it’s silly, but . . . I thought maybe we could have a prom of our own tonight.”

“Like on Valentine’s Day?”

“Yes. Only better. I thought we’d go out to dinner first, then come back here. Turn on the music. Maybe light some candles. Dance for a bit. And after that—”