Kyland

  I moved through the crowd, gathering empty glasses onto my tray and delivering food to the tables that had ordered it. A particularly drunk guy in a red shirt kept grabbing my ass whenever I walked close and so I went the long way around the tables each time to avoid him.

  "Come on, gorgeous!" he yelled as I made my way back to the kitchen to drop the dirty glasses off to the dishwasher. "Bring that sweet little ass back over here."

  "He giving you trouble, honey?" Brenda, an older waitress, pretty in a beat-down kind of way, who had been working at Al's forever, asked when I'd returned to the bar. She nodded her head in Red Shirt’s direction.

  I glanced over at him. "I can handle it, Brenda," I said, giving her a small smile.

  "You let me know if you need me to take over your section. I've got plenty of extra to grope. I don't mind sharing a little." She squeezed a handful of her generous backside and winked at me. I laughed.

  I successfully avoided Red Shirt for the rest of my shift and he left with his group of friends as the game ended and the bar started clearing out a little bit.

  As I wiped down a table near the back, Marlo came over to me. "Hey, Ten, I asked Brenda and she said she could give you a lift home."

  I stopped wiping and looked up at her. She fidgeted slightly. "Why?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

  "Uh," she glanced back to a guy sitting at a table near the door. I didn't recognize him—probably another guy in town on business. I narrowed my eyes, taking him in from across the room. "That's Corey. He asked if I wanted to go to dinner with him tonight and . . ."

  Dinner? It was way too late for dinner. I moved to the side so her body was blocking me from Corey. "Do not go home with some guy you just met at this bar, Mar. Have you already forgotten how that turned out—"

  She straightened her spine. "No, I haven't forgotten." She glanced over her shoulder at Corey and gave him a small smile. When she looked back at me she said, "I'm not stupid, Ten. I know what Corey wants. I don't have delusions that he's going to marry me and we're going to go riding off into the sunset. I just want some company, is that so bad?"

  I sighed, my shoulders drooping. "What about Sam?"

  Marlo bristled. "What about Sam? We're just friends. Sam doesn't own me."

  "He'd care that you went home with Corey," I said.

  "Well, he shouldn't. That would be stupid of him."

  I sighed. "Yeah." I studied her pretty face for a moment. "Just be careful, okay? And stay in public with him, well-lit areas that—"

  Marlo laughed and leaned forward, hugging me. "I will. I'll be home in a couple hours."

  "Okay."

  I went back to wiping the last of the tables off as Marlo clocked out and then waved at me as she and Corey walked out the front door of Al's.

  I went to clock out and when I saw Brenda, she said, "Honey, I'm sorry. I just went out to warm my car up and it won't start. Dave's coming by in about an hour to pick me up. Do you mind waiting?"

  I really didn't want to hang out in this smoky bar for another couple hours waiting for Brenda's husband. "That's okay, I'm used to walking and it's not cold."

  "You sure?"

  "Yeah." I smiled and after calling goodbye to everyone, I walked outside. It was a mild spring night, but I still pulled my sweater on and folded my arms over my chest. I was going to have to buy a few new things soon. Some of my clothes had actual holes in them. I'd talk to Marlo and see what we could afford.

  Pine needles picked up and blew in the wind at my feet as I trudged through the dirt and leaves on the side of the highway. A breeze blew gently through my hair. I looked up at the moon, recalling what it'd looked like hanging over us in the meadow as Kyland moved above me, his skin damp with passion. I shivered in want, my steps speeding up. Maybe I'd stop at his house. Surely I had that right. I heard a car coming behind me and moved as far as I could away from the road. The car went whizzing by me and then I looked up as I heard it slow and pull to the side of the embankment.

  My steps slowed and I squinted as I walked toward the silver car. Was that Jemma Clark's brother's car? As I got closer, I realized that, no, this car was in much better shape than his, still running, but no one getting out. Then the door opened and Red Shirt stepped out of the driver's seat, weaving slightly. "Hey, pretty girl, I've been waiting for you." He smiled a droopy-lidded smile and began walking toward where I now stood still, nerves assaulting me. I looked up and down the highway. It was deserted.

  I started walking around his vehicle and called over to him, "My ride should be along any minute. Nice to see you, though."

  As I walked along the passenger side of his car, he started coming around the front and I increased my speed, breaking into a jog when he increased his speed, too. Fear pounded through my blood as he took up chase behind me. I let out a small yelp as his hand made contact with my shoulder, but then I pulled ahead and for a brief second, I thought he'd give it up and walk back to his car. I dared to glance behind me and in that instant, his hand grabbed hold of my sweater and he yanked. I went flying backward, hitting his chest with my back as his arms went around me and he let out a loud half-laugh/half-victory cry. "Let me go!" I yelled, panic causing tears to spring to my eyes as I sucked in a sob.

  A car drove slowly by us and I yelled out, "Help!" as my eyes connected with those of the driver's, a woman. But she looked away and sped off down the highway.

  Red Shirt's hot breath was at my ear. "Relax, pretty thing, I've got you. Feisty, aren't you? I just wanna get to know you. You kept running away from me at the bar. Let's go somewhere where we can get acquainted." His hand ran up my ribcage and cupped my breast, squeezing it harshly.

  "No!" I screamed, kicking backward with my legs, connecting with his shins. He let out a pained grunt and let go of me. I whirled around, and struck with my fist, connecting with the side of his head. He released an enraged growl and struck back at me. Pain exploded behind my eye and I stumbled, off balance, my butt landing in the dirt, a whoosh of air escaping my mouth. I crab-crawled backward in the dirt as Red Shirt stalked toward me. I sprang to my feet just in time to see a car pull up right behind Red Shirt's and a man jump out of the driver’s seat. I turned to run when the man called out, "Tenleigh! It's okay." I whipped my head back around and saw it was Jamie Kearney walking toward Red Shirt and I stopped where I was, tears running down my cheeks as I heaved in big breaths of air.

  Jamie was in my grade in school, his father was Edward Kearney, the man my mama had had an affair with.

  "Hey, man," Red Shirt said, taking a step toward him. "We got this covered—" Jamie punched him in the face and Red Shirt went down hard in the gravel, not even breaking his own fall. I cried out, bringing my hands up to my mouth. I was shaking all over. As Jamie hefted Red Shirt up and carried him over his shoulder to his car, I quickly took stock of myself. My sweater was torn and hanging where Red Shirt had grabbed it, and my eye felt like it was quickly swelling closed. I brought my finger up to my mouth and when I brought it down, there was blood on it.

  Jamie threw an unconscious Red Shirt into his still idling car and then reached in and pulled the keys out of the ignition. He leaned in and did something I couldn't see, and when he leaned back up, he was holding a pair of jeans in one hand and the keys in the other. He slammed the door shut and brought his arm back, throwing the keys into the forest next to the highway.

  "You all right?" he asked, throwing the jeans over his arm and turning toward me.

  I nodded my head shakily as he approached me. His lips thinned as he took me in, but he didn't touch me. "Come on, I'll drive you home."

  I hesitated. I'd gone to school with Jamie for the last four years, but I didn't really know him too well. In fact, I avoided him whenever and wherever I could—I could only figure he didn't look too fondly on any member of my family, including me. He'd been there that day my mama had dragged us up his long driveway—the day his father had spit on us. I'd seen him watching us out the window as we'd turned away.
r />   He watched me now as I hesitated and then he reached in his pocket, bringing something red and shiny out. He walked it over to me, holding it out so that I could take it from his outstretched hand. It was a Swiss Army knife.

  "If I try anything that makes you uncomfortable, you stab me in the eye with that," he said, a glimmer of a smile on his lips.

  I released a breath and smiled a small smile back at him, my racing heart slowing enough that I could get a full breath through my body again. I took the knife from him. I didn't say anything, but I followed him to his car and got in the passenger side. He got in and threw the jeans in the back seat. I glanced back at them, confused, and then sat huddled against the passenger door as Jamie pulled out onto the highway. I looked out the back window—Red Shirt still hadn't sat up in his car.

  "What if he's dead?" I asked.

  Jamie glanced in his rearview mirror. "He's not dead. He's just going to wake up with a big headache and a massive hangover . . . and he'll have to walk himself back to his hotel . . . pant-less." He looked over at me, and the side of his lip quirked up slightly. I stared at him with my one good eye, my own lip quirking up, too, as I pictured him walking along the highway naked from the waist down. But then my expression sobered.

  "He could find out my name," I said.

  Jamie looked over at me and then back at the highway as he turned off onto the road leading up into the hills.

  "He won't bother you." He was quiet for a second. "I'll make sure of it, okay?"

  I glanced at him. "Okay." I don't know why I trusted that he would, but I did. Jamie hung with the popular kids, the small group at our high school who lived in Evansly and had parents who were executives at the mines—the rich kids. I didn't know if he'd be considered "rich" by all standards, but by mine, he most definitely was. Our lives were legions apart.

  I directed him up the hill to my trailer and when he pulled up in front of it, he sat staring at it for several moments. I was too achy and numb to care. In that moment, my little trailer looked good to me and I wanted to get inside and lie down on the small couch I slept on. I pulled the door handle and the door clicked open.

  "Hey, Tenleigh," Jamie said and I paused, but didn't turn toward him. "This is kinda weird timing, but would you, uh, want to go to the prom next week? I mean, with me?"

  I looked back over my shoulder. Jamie was good-looking—not in the same way Kyland was—but he had a nice face, a kind face, actually. "Thanks, Jamie, but uh, no. I don't dance, and . . ." I can't afford a dress or shoes and I'm kinda desperately in love with someone.

  "Come on, you sorta owe me." My eyes snapped to his and I saw he was kidding.

  I let out a breath and offered him a smile. "Thank you, Jamie, really, for what you did. But no, I'm, um, kind of seeing someone and—" Tears started leaking out of my eyes at my own words. Was I seeing someone? God, it was all so confusing. And somehow, my heart felt as bruised as my eye.

  "Hey," he said gently, "I understand. I just thought . . . you know, you and I . . ." He thinned his lips, looking as if he was considering his words. "I've never really made an effort to get to know you, and I'm sorry for that. I realize there's not much time now, but, I thought maybe a dance . . ." His eyes moved over my face. "But you're involved with someone and so I understand that he probably wants to take you to the prom."

  I looked down at my lap and shook my head, but I didn't speak. Would this boy even understand what it was like to have so little that some days you were just thankful you had enough food to eat? Dances, dates . . . those things were so far outside my realm of experiences. I had no idea what it was like to do any of that. I had no idea what it was like to live a life where you had the luxury of caring about that kind of stuff.

  "Thanks again," I said.

  "Tenleigh?" I turned back around. "I . . . I don't know, um . . ."

  "Spit it out, Jamie."

  "I'm gay."

  Oh. I turned all the way toward him. "So why'd you ask me to the dance then?"

  "I just wanted to spend time with you."

  I tilted my head. "What if I'd said yes and had hope that you liked me?" I asked.

  "I . . . I guess I didn't really think that part through. Sorry."

  I studied him for a second and then sighed. "No harm done."

  "I can't tell my parents. I mean, I can. I'm going to. Soon. I think. Maybe." He looked out the driver's side window.

  I took a deep breath and sat back. "I'm sure it'll be okay."

  He looked back at me and shook his head. "No, it won't be. It won't be okay. But I guess I have to do it anyway. I thought maybe before I go off to college. That way they'll have some time to digest it while I'm away, you know?"

  I nodded. "Yeah." I reached over and squeezed his shoulder. "Well, good luck."

  "My dad, he grew up like you," he said, glancing over at my trailer. "In his office, he has a picture of the shack where he lived in West Virginia when he was a boy."

  I pressed my lips together and scratched at my thigh. "Well, that makes it worse."

  "What?" he asked, his eyes meeting my one good eye again.

  "He knows how painful it is to live like this—and for us, he made it worse." For him, it was a sick, thrilling way to remind himself of how far he'd risen—and how far others were now beneath him.

  Jamie flinched slightly, his eyes flitting away and then back. "I know." He paused for a second. "If it makes you feel any better, I don't like where I live either, despite everything I have." He frowned as he looked out the window behind me. "That day," his eyes met mine, "that day my dad . . . told you to leave our house, I was watching. I saw. And I wanted to go with you. I saw the way all three of you gripped hands and walked away, the way you leaned on your sister, and . . . as stupid and probably insensitive as it sounds to you to hear me say this, I wanted to go with you. I wanted what you had. A family."

  I stared at him, shocked. "I wanted what you had. A family. And," I laughed softly, "some food in the fridge."

  He laughed a humorless laugh that ended in a sort of grimace.

  "Things are tough all over, Ponyboy," I said softly, shaking my head.

  "What?"

  "Nothing. Thanks again, Jamie. Good night."

  He nodded, looking worried. "Good night, Tenleigh. Make sure you ice that eye."

  "I will." I opened his car door and got out.

  I watched him as he turned around and drove back down the road toward town. I stood there for a minute, breathing in the fresh night air, thinking about what I was going to tell my mama. I wouldn't tell her the truth. It wouldn't be helpful—there was nothing she could do about it, and it would only make her worse. I'd tell her I ran into the swinging door at work.

  But as I stood there, emotion overwhelmed me. I didn't want to lie. I wanted someone to hold me as I cried. I wanted someone to tell me everything was going to be okay. Tears streaked down my face as I looked up at the sky.

  "Ten?" My head whipped around at his voice. Kyland.

  I swiped at my tears and turned to face him. As he came close enough that I could make out his features, he hesitated, his face contorting first in confusion and then in anger. "What the fuck?" he hissed out, moving to me quickly and tilting my face up toward the moon, toward the light.

  "Who did this?" he demanded.

  "Kyland," I choked out, all the fight draining out of me. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into his solid, safe body. I melted into him, holding the front of his shirt in my fists as I cried. I cried not just for my battered face, but because this could happen again. I cried because I was scared and hopeless and because even though Kyland was holding me, and despite all we'd shared, I sensed a withdrawal of his emotions. I sensed him stiffening as my tears fell and I clung to him.

  "Who did this to you?" he repeated, only his voice was calmer this time.

  I sniffled and wiped at my cheeks as I pulled back. "Just some guy," I whispered.

  "A guy at Al's?"

  I nodded. "I wou
ldn't get in his car and he didn't like that."

  He didn't say anything, his jaw tense, his gaze focused somewhere beyond me.

  "Did you get his name?"

  I shook my head. "It doesn't matter, Ky. Jamie Kearney knocked him out and then drove me home. He said he'd make sure that guy didn't bother me again . . ." I trailed off. I had no idea what Jamie planned to do, if anything.

  Kyland didn't speak for several beats. Finally, he nodded. "That's good." He looked down at me and smoothed a piece of hair behind my ear. "I'm so sorry I can't do anything. I'm sorry I'm so useless," he said, his voice gruff, tortured.

  I hesitated at the tone, my one good eye widening. "You're not useless, Kyland. Don't ever say that."

  He gazed down at me, a look that was raw and pained on his face. "Go inside and put some ice on your eye," he said. "Do you have any Tylenol or anything?"

  I nodded. "I thought maybe I could come to your house?" I said hopefully, wanting nothing more than for him to hold me.

  "That's not a good idea," he said, his words short. "We can't do that anymore."

  "Why?" I asked, my voice cracking as hurt speared through me.

  "Because I sold my bed. I'm sleeping on the floor."

  Oh.

  "That's okay. I'll sleep on the floor with you," I said.

  I need you, Ky.

  He shook his head, his jaw hard again. "No. You won't sleep on the damn floor, Tenleigh." At the look of hurt on my face, his expression gentled and he let out a long, controlled breath. "No, you won't sleep on the floor. Go inside your trailer and get in bed. I'll check on you in the morning, okay?"

  I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to beg him to stay with me, take me with him, something. I pictured my mother in that auditorium screaming at Edward and I looked down at my feet, a sudden understanding of some of the deep pain she must carry inside her damaged brain. "I saw you earlier with Shelly," I said. "I waited for you to walk me home, but you were with her." I couldn't hide the accusation in my voice. Was I expecting too much?

  He regarded me silently for a few beats. "Sorry, Ten, she just wanted to show me the car her brother fixed up for her. It was nothing."