Trailer Trash

  It was ridiculous. Nate had practically run screaming in fear after Cody had spilled his guts about being gay. And why in the hell had he started babbling about blowjobs and handjobs anyway? He could have kicked himself for being so stupid, but it had felt like such a relief to finally say it out loud. To finally have somebody he could voice his uncertainties to. And then, to actually kiss Nate, to see the way Nate responded to his touch. It had felt absolutely perfect.

  Right up until Nate bolted, at any rate.

  But Nate wasn’t bolting now. He wasn’t moving closer either, but Cody was sure that was only because of where they were. Because of the dance, and Stacy, and the knowledge that whatever happened between them would be seen by everybody in school. Stacy moved closer to Nate, and Nate settled his cheek against the side of her head, but still, his eyes stayed locked on Cody’s. Nate’s hands moved on Stacy’s hips, the casual motion somehow significant, somehow making Cody’s skin tingle. Somehow making him sure Nate was thinking about him.

  But why would he be?

  Cody winced and ducked his head, not wanting to see Nate and Stacy together anymore. He’d been jealous his whole life. Jealous of people with money and new clothes, of kids who had fathers there for the birthdays and mothers who had respectable jobs. He was jealous of many things, yes, but he’d never been so jealous of a girl simply for being where she was. But seeing Nate with Stacy, Cody was filled with a jealousy so strong and foul, he was almost ashamed. Stacy seemed like a nice enough girl. She’d certainly never done anything to Cody. But why did her happiness have to include Nate? At that moment, Cody would have done anything to be the one in Nate’s arms.

  That thought hit him like a bolt of lightning, almost blinding him with its brilliance. It wiggled down his spine, making his stomach do somersaults, making him feel suddenly too hot and too itchy and entirely too exposed. Cody found himself again staring into Nate’s eyes.

  Jesus, why the fuck was he such a goddamned fool? What was he doing here, leaning against the gym wall, trying to communicate with Nate from what felt like half a mile away, while still feeling as if Nate was in his space, in his face, in his head, seeing every insecurity he’d ever had? He wanted to cry. Or to run. Or maybe just to give up and tell Nate that he was so fucking crazy about him he couldn’t even think straight.

  That thought almost made him smile.

  Can’t even think straight.

  Except, Nate was straight. And Cody was the town’s biggest idiot.

  He turned away—away from the dance, away from whatever it was Nate was trying to tell him from across the room—and headed for the door. At least he had a warm coat now. Walking home would be better than staying there, seeing Stacy have the only thing in the world Cody really wanted.

  He’d barely made it out the open door of the gym before Logan caught him in the hallway, laying one big hand on Cody’s shoulder.

  “Cody, wait.” Even in the hallway, the music was loud, but at least the lights were on. Logan bent his head closer to Cody’s to talk, rather than shouting. “You leaving already?”

  He knew Logan would make a big deal out of it, so he shrugged. “Maybe I’m just going for a smoke.”

  Logan didn’t look convinced, but he obviously had something else on his mind. “Yeah right. Hey, listen. I need a favor.”

  “Anything.”

  “Can you cover for me at the Tomahawk next Saturday?”

  “After Thanksgiving, you mean?”

  “Right. You don’t have plans, do you?”

  Of course he didn’t, and Logan knew it. It was a day they’d been booked for overlapping shifts, Cody for only a few hours in the first half of the day, and Logan arriving later. “Why? What’s up?”

  “Shelley wants me to take her to Casper on Friday so she can go shopping with our cousins on Saturday. She’s gonna spend the weekend there. I could come back that night and work my shift, but then I’d have to drive to Casper again on Sunday to pick her up. It’d be easier if we both just stayed the weekend and came home Sunday evening. I know you’ve worked almost every Friday night during football season, and you shouldn’t have to work all day Saturday too—”

  “It’s cool.” After all, he had nothing better to do with his weekends, and a few extra hours on his paycheck would be nice. It’d mean working a ten hour shift, but so what? “I’ll cover for you. I don’t mind.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Cody grinned. “Well, I’ll have to cancel that hot date I had with Jamie Simpson, but for you, I’ll do it.”

  Logan laughed and threw his arm around Cody’s shoulders, turning him toward the outside door just as Jimmy Riordan and Larry Lucero came through it. “You’re the best.” He tugged Cody to the side to let Jimmy and Larry by, nearly pulling him off his feet as he dragged him closer, his face bumping the top of Cody’s head as Cody fought for his balance. If he didn’t make it as a quarterback in college, Cody figured Logan had a shot as a defensive lineman. “I owe you.”

  “Yeah, you do.”

  They strolled toward the door, Logan’s arm still draped comfortably over Cody’s shoulders.

  “You’re not just going out for a smoke. You’re bailing on the dance, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “At least let me give you a ride home.”

  Even in his new coat, a ride in Logan’s Camaro would sure beat walking. “I’m still not putting out on the first date.”

  “How do you feel about first base?”

  “That’s the second date.”

  Logan laughed again. “I was planning on breaking up with you before then anyway.”

  Nate arrived at the dance with nearly a dozen Mormons, from all four grades. The overhead lights in the gym were out. A mirrored ball hung over the center of the floor. Christmas light had been strung all over the place, and streamers were abundant, but it still looked and smelled like the same gym they all had PE in.

  Several couples were already on the dance floor, along with a small group of girls, dancing in a circle. He followed the Mormons to the right, circling away from the Grove clique, but Nate’s eyes met Brian’s for a moment, and then Brian leaned toward Brad and Jennifer, whispering something that made them both look Nate’s way.

  Nate’s stomach knotted, some small seed of discomfort wiggling there, almost like a warning, and Nate tried to tell himself it was nothing. So the Grove kids were talking about him. Why should he care? He was the one who’d abandoned them, not the other way around. Maybe he didn’t quite fit in with the Mormons, but at least he didn’t have to worry about them peer-pressuring him into a bottle of Blue Maui, or pushing him toward a few lines of cocaine.

  Eventually, the group he was with moved onto the dance floor, Stacy pulling Nate along with them. They danced a few fast dances, Nate feeling awkward and ridiculous, but confident at least that he looked less foolish than Jimmy Riordan, who seemed to be having convulsions on the far side of the room.

  And then, the thing Nate had been dreading happened: the slow dance.

  Some of the Mormons left the floor. Some of them paired up. A few of them stayed put, glancing awkwardly at each other. His eyes met Stacy’s. He cleared his throat, trying to think of what to say.

  “Do you want to—”

  “Sure!” She stepped closer, putting her arms around his neck.

  Nate had intended to say, Do you want to get some punch? He hadn’t intended to ask her to dance, but there wasn’t a graceful way out now.

  He put his hands on her waist. She was shorter than him, a bit overweight, but pretty enough, he supposed. They moved their feet a half inch at a time, slowly turning in circles, not speaking, their eyes averted. Nate had no idea what to do with his hands. Were they too close to her breasts? He wasn’t sure, but if he lowered them, they were too low on her hips. His elbows seemed to be sticking out way too far. He glanced at the couples around them and noticed that most of the guys had their hands all the way around their partner’s waists, but then he’d
have his hands practically on her ass. Not only that, it’d mean drawing her a lot closer to him than she was now.

  They were on their second rotation when he spotted Cody.

  He was so surprised, he stopped short. Cody was the last person he expected to see at the dance, but there he was, not only present, but actually laughing like he was having fun. He was standing next to Logan. Of course. Logan always seemed to be near Cody these days. Nate couldn’t help but hate him for it. But as he watched, Logan’s sister walked up and tapped Logan on the shoulder. He turned to talk to her, leaving Cody alone for the moment.

  Nate and Stacy kept turning, taking Cody out of his view, but not out of his thoughts. Had Cody seen him? Had he wondered why Nate was here with Stacy? Had he made assumptions about Nate’s intentions or about his exact relationship with her? He turned his head as they neared a complete rotation again, wanting to find Cody.

  He was still right where he’d been before, but this time, he was looking at Nate. It was unnerving, and yet, Nate didn’t want to turn away. Cody looked the same as always—in a pair of jeans and one of his least-ratty shirts, his hair beginning to hang in his eyes because he hadn’t had it cut in a while, and Nate stood, transfixed, no longer thinking to keep up his slow rotation with Stacy. She moved closer. Nate noted how warm she felt. How scratchy her dress was against his wrists. She was about the same height as Cody, and with the same black hair, even though hers was longer. She settled her head on his shoulder. And still, he kept his eyes on Cody, wondering if that’s how Cody’s hair would feel too.

  His pulse quickened, blood suddenly heading for places below the belt. Nate scooted back a bit, trying to think of other things, not wanting to pop wood while dancing with the good Mormon girl. He succeeded, but he couldn’t stop wondering how it would feel to dance like this with Cody.

  He wanted to find out. He knew that with the same surety he knew the sun would rise in the east. Whatever was happening with Stacy didn’t matter a bit. All he wanted was to walk over to Cody. To hold out his hand and pull Cody onto the dance floor.

  Not that he seriously considered that an option. They’d be lucky if they managed to get kicked out of the dance before somebody kicked their asses. But still, he kept his eyes on Cody, trying to somehow tell him he was sorry, that he was wrong, that he was an idiot.

  Cody turned away and walked out of the gym, and Nate watched as Logan caught up to him in the hallway. Logan was at least six inches taller than Cody, and he ducked his head, leaning close, displaying an intimacy that made Nate’s stomach writhe with jealousy. They talked for just a moment, and then Logan put his arm around Cody’s shoulders, turning him toward the door just as Jimmy Riordan and Larry Lucero passed them. He suspected neither Logan nor Cody saw the way Jimmy and Larry both turned to watch them together as they passed. Logan pulled Cody close, their bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces, and then—

  Logan kissed him.

  It was brief. Just a peck on the top of Cody’s head, but Nate went cold, all the way to his toes. He felt as if his stomach had somehow fallen past his legs to land on the dirty gym floor.

  “Guess the fag got himself a new boyfriend,” Larry said to Jimmy as they walked past where Nate and Stacy were dancing.

  And the worst part was, there was nothing in the world Nate could do about it.

  It was snowing when Nate left the dance, and for a minute he simply stopped, staring up at the cold sky. Huge, fluffy flakes landed on his cheeks. It should have been dark out, but it wasn’t. Clouds obscured the moon and stars, but the sky glowed faintly white, reflecting light from the streetlamps, making it almost as bright as daytime, except that the entire world had been muted to shades of gray.

  “It’s snowing!” he said. He thought he might have laughed with delight if his heart weren’t aching so much over Cody.

  The Mormons all shook their heads, chuckling at him good-naturedly. “You won’t be that excited about it when it’s still snowing in March.”

  It continued all night, and all day Sunday, and Nate sat staring out the window, going around in circles in his head, arguing with himself endlessly until he thought he was going mad.

  Cody’s dating Logan.

  No, he isn’t. That’s ridiculous. Logan isn’t gay. You heard him say so himself at the bowling alley.

  But boy, he was awfully defensive when Larry Lucero called Cody a fag. He was pretty quick to say that it wasn’t anybody’s business. Maybe it was because he really is like Cody. Maybe he said that to cover the fact that he’s sleeping with Cody.

  No. They’re friends. Nothing more.

  But he kissed Cody. Right there in the school, with me and Larry and Jimmy all watching.

  That doesn’t mean anything.

  It means everything.

  Nate was glad they only had two days of school the next week. Only Monday and Tuesday to see Logan and Cody in social studies, ducking their heads together across the aisle to talk before the bell rang, both of them chuckling, even if Cody’s smile did look a bit forced.

  By Wednesday, the first day of Thanksgiving break, the snow had stopped. The sky was clear and brilliantly, shockingly blue, the wind stronger than ever, so icy it seemed to cut right through every coat Nate owned. There’d been no talk of him going home for Thanksgiving. It hadn’t even been an option before Nate’s phone call home. It was even less of one now, in his mind at least. Still, he knew he couldn’t avoid the subject of his mother for a second week in a row.

  Sure enough, his dad knocked on his bedroom door on Wednesday evening.

  “Nate?” He’d just come home from work and was still wearing his uniform, his gun belt hanging from his hips. “Time to call your mom.”

  Nate was lying on the bed in the darkness, staring at the blank ceiling above him. Howard Jones was spinning on the turntable, telling him things could only get better, but Nate found it hard to believe. He’d spent the last hour trying not to wonder what Cody was doing. Trying not to wonder if he was with Logan. Trying not to imagine Cody touching Logan and kissing him and whispering secrets to him in some dark, distant room.

  Nate reached over and hit the button to lift the needle from the record, letting silence fall.

  “I have nothing to say to her.”

  His dad crossed his arms, resting against the doorframe even though it must have made his gun belt dig into his hip. “Are you okay, Nate?”

  “I’m fine.”

  His dad rubbed a finger over his mustache. “I know you never wanted to move here. I thought things’d get better once school started and you met kids your own age, but it seems like it’s going downhill. Seems like things are getting worse instead.”

  Nate sat up on his bed, crossing his legs, thinking about everything that happened since he’d first talked to Cody behind the ICE cooler.

  Could he talk to his dad about it?

  He’d dismissed the idea before, but then again, he didn’t have much to lose. “I don’t belong here, Dad. I don’t fit in anywhere.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it isn’t that bad.”

  Of course he’d say that. His dad had no idea how claustrophobic Walter Warren High School was, with its tight cliques.

  The bed shifted as his father sat down next to him. “What happened two weeks ago that made you want to sneak downstairs and call your mom?”

  “I was going to ask her to let me come home.”

  “Well, I figured that much. But what I’m asking is, what happened that night to make you want to go home right then? We’ve been here since August, but something happened this month that made things worse.”

  Nate fidgeted with the hem of his jeans, debating. It all started with Cody. “I did something . . .” He shook his head, trying to come up with a way to tell his dad about it without actually telling him anything at all. “Something maybe I shouldn’t have.” But whether he meant letting Cody touch him and kiss him, or whether he meant pushing Cody away afterward, even he couldn’t have said.

&nbs
p; “Are we talking about something illegal? Or . . . breaking rules?”

  “No.”

  “Cheating on a test? Stealing? A prank that went wrong?”

  “Nothing like that.”

  “Did you get in a fight?”

  Did he? It almost felt like it. “Not really, but . . . an argument, maybe.”

  “With somebody at the dance?”

  “With the only real friend I have.”

  “Ah.” He patted Nate’s shoulder. “Well, these things happen. Friends argue sometimes, but it’ll be okay. You’ll see.”

  “It wasn’t okay with you and Mom.”

  “That’s different.”

  “Why?”

  His dad took a deep breath, tilting his head back to stare up at Nate’s bedroom ceiling. He didn’t answer though.

  “Somebody else answered the phone at our house.”

  His dad blew out a puff of air. “Yeah, that’s what she told me.”

  “He’s living there, isn’t he?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who is he?”

  His dad’s shoulders slumped. The answer came out a growl. “Greg.”

  “Greg who?”

  “Greg Merriman. They met at the gym.”

  The gym? Nate thought of all the times his mom had come downstairs with a smile on her face and her workout bag slung over her shoulder, telling him she’d be back in a couple of hours. “All this time, I thought you were the one who had the affair. But it wasn’t you, was it?”

  His dad leaned forward to put his elbows on his knees. “No.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “She begged me not to.”

  “But . . .” It seemed so feeble. So ridiculous. She’d torn their family apart, and yet his father had let Nate put all the blame on him. “That’s why you wouldn’t let me stay in Austin?”

  His dad stood up, still staring at the ceiling as if it held some kind of answers. “I don’t want to talk about this again. We’ve been over it a thousand times—”