by Cora Brent
I didn’t smile back. “Is everything okay over here?”
My question wasn’t addressed to Rod but he’s the one who answered.
“We’re great.” He clapped a hand on Isaiah’s shoulder and the kid flinched. “Just having a little heart to heart chat.”
“Be careful. That guy’s a real piece of work.”
Tristan had said that. Tristan had been on the football team when he was at Emblem High and was coached by Rod Ward. Obviously there was some old animosity between them for reasons that were unclear. At the time I’d blown off his words, assuming Tristan simply disliked most people but now I knew that wasn’t true. Tristan didn’t bother to dislike anyone without a compelling reason. I’d have to keep trying to pry that reason out of him.
“Shouldn’t you be at lunch?” I asked Isaiah.
“Ms. Gentry’s right,” Rod said and although the words were cheerfully paternal I was wise to the sound of phony bullshit. “You should really make tracks to the cafeteria before they run out of chicken pot pie.”
Isaiah was usually full of smart confidence but right now he just nodded with relief and kept his head down as he hurried in the opposite direction. Which left me facing Rod Ward alone.
“I heard he had a rough game on Friday,” I commented.
Emblem High’s football coach smiled down at me. “Yeah, he was feeling a little down about that. A game is a team effort. If one link falters then we all do.”
The word annoyed me. Under the right circumstances the sentiment wouldn’t have been wrong. But if he was making some poor kid feel like dirt because he’d had the audacity to get injured in a stupid high school football game then Rod Ward was the worst kind of garbage person.
“Well, thank goodness we’re here to build the kids up instead of tearing them down,” I said.
His smile faltered a notch as he tried to figure out what I meant. He nodded to the lunch bag in my hand. “On your way to the lounge? I was planning on dropping in there for a power shake and some adult conversation.”
I’d had enough adult conversation for the time being. I checked my watch. “Actually, I’m going to head back to B wing. I’ve got a pile of essays on Hemingway that aren’t going to grade themselves.”
“In that case I’ll catch you later,” he said, slightly put out.
“See ya.” I turned on my heel and headed back the direction I’d come from. The hair on the back of my neck prickled and I suspected that if I turned around I’d see Rod Ward checking out my ass but I didn’t want to acknowledge him any further so I kept walking.
Isaiah Creston was in my last class so I had to wait until the end of the day to have a word with him. He was surprised to hear me call his name when he was on his way out the door and approached my desk with some caution.
“What’s up, Ms. Gentry?” he said and I knew he didn’t want to talk about his moment in the corridor with Coach Ward but the unhappy look on his face had been haunting me all afternoon.
“I heard you were injured in Friday’s game,” I said.
He glanced at his right shoulder. “It’s not a big deal.”
“You look like you’re in pain.”
“Nah. Coach says I should be able to shake it off.”
“Coach Ward isn’t a doctor,” I said more sternly than I’d meant to.
Isaiah was embarrassed. “He says he’s got a buddy from ASU who’s a scout for the football team and maybe the guy will come to Friday’s game.” He shrugged and winced as the gesture obviously resulted in some discomfort. “So I’d better man up and put on a good show or there will be hell to pay.”
“Are those Coach Ward’s words?”
He frowned. “So what if they are?”
I understood. At least I thought I did. The football team was struggling and Ward’s reputation was on the line. So he was dangling the promise of a college scout in front of a hopeful kid in order to get the results he wanted instead of thinking about Isaiah’s best interests. The prospect did nothing to endear Rod Ward to me but continuing to question Isaiah would only upset him.
“Will you at least go down to the nurse’s office?” I said to him, more gently this time. “Have her check it out?”
“Sure. I’ll do that,” he said, averting his eyes and making it clear he’d say whatever he had to in order to get out of here.
I sighed. “All right. You’re free to leave. Have a good evening.”
He practically ran from the room.
I watched him go. Perhaps it was time to have a meeting with Kevin Bertram, the hatchet-faced principal, although that might do more harm than good since I recalled hearing he and Ward were pretty tight.
While I was brooding about the problem of Coach Ward, Aura stopped by and asked if I had any plans Saturday night. She was having a faculty dinner party at her house and urged me to bring a date. She also winked and said if I didn’t have a date then it was fine because Rod Ward would be there and he would be attending alone. With that piece of information in mind I opted not to mention my doubts about Emblem’s favorite football coach. I smiled and said I would be there and in fact I did have someone to bring.
Of course I knew a dinner party at a teacher’s house wasn’t really Tristan’s speed. Or his crowd. But if we had any chance of making it as a couple then we were going to have to figure out how to handle occasions like Aura’s dinner party.
“You coming, Ms. Gentry?” The Stremich twins had popped their heads into my classroom and I remembered I had an after school meeting in the gym with the homecoming dance committee.
Most of the students on the committee were girls. They were already congregated in the gym and having a spirited discussion about details like how to go about hanging the black and red streamers across the length of the gymnasium and what songs to include in the evening’s lineup. I listened and offered advice and complimented them on an outstanding job advertising the dance. There wasn’t a hallway in Emblem High that wasn’t decorated with hand stenciled glitter posters.
After the meeting I walked through the double doors leading out to the field and shaded my eyes as I tried to discern who was who among the pack of jogging players. The only figure I was able to identify for sure was Rod Ward as he ran behind them, blowing his whistle and shouting.
There were still a few hours left before Tristan would be finished with work. We planned to meet up at the Cactus and then maybe drive to Grande for dinner. I still owed my sisters each a phone call and I had no excuse to put it off anymore so I closed myself into my classroom and faced the music.
Predictably, Cami was brimming with probing inquiries but I caught a break because baby Annabeth was awakening from a nap and required her mother’s full attention. Before ending the call my big sister warned me that I was not off the hook and she expected a full range of specifics in the coming days. I made no promises.
Tristan had evidently found the time to call his brother so Cassie had already heard. She was worried. Apparently Tristan and Curtis had one hell of an argument. Cassie swore their fight wasn’t specifically over me. It was more of a longstanding difference of opinion. But when I pressed her she was reluctant to say anything else.
“This thing between you and Tristan isn’t a casual hookup, is it?” she asked and no longer sounded worried. Merely curious.
“No,” I admitted. “It’s not a casual hookup.”
“Oh. Are you happy?”
I thought about dancing with Tristan in the desert after dark. I thought about his smile. I thought about the way he made me laugh. And then heat rose in my cheeks as I thought about some of Tristan’s other qualities that weren’t fit for decent conversation with my sister.
“I’m happy,” I told her. Cassie was always the sweet sister, the one who was easiest to please. If I was happy then she was happy for me.
Now that everyone was on the same page I felt positively exhilarated as I headed over to the Cactus. Tristan texted to say he’d finished with work a little early and was on
his way. Since the age of fifteen I’d suffered a long string of rather forgettable boyfriends who never held my attention for very long. This was unfamiliar, this butterflies in the belly kind of dizzy feeling that overcame me every time I knew I’d be seeing Tristan soon.
Leah was busy behind the bar when I walked into the Cactus. She gave me a hurried wave before pouring two drinks at once. That poor girl was married to this damn bar. Someone ought to drag her out of this gloomy setting with the groping drunks and the endless empty glasses and make sure she had a little bit of fun.
I didn’t feel like drinking anything besides my ever present water bottle so I took a spot at the corner table and kept an eye on the door. I didn’t have to wait long. Tristan Mulligan walked into the room and my heartbeat quickened. He smiled at me and my skin tingled. He greeted me with an impassioned kiss and I nearly swooned.
My words to Cassie had been accurate.
This was no casual hookup.
As I felt Tristan’s arms fold around me I realized this was starting to feel like the furthest thing from casual.
Chapter Twelve
Tristan
Martin Adelson was a character. He stood at about four foot six and thanks to a childhood tractor accident he walked with a profound limp that had never stopped him from being the most hyperactively cheerful dude in the state.
“Mornin’.” He greeted me with an overzealous hand wave atop a portable step ladder. He’d been spraying glass cleaner on the windshield of a flatbed truck.
“I can finish that,” I called to him, knowing that climbing up and down that ladder had to be murder on his twisted leg.
Adelson chuckled and sprayed more glass cleaner. “No siree, I’m enjoying the view so I’m staying up here as long as I can. You mind starting out today with a drive to Superior?”
“Not at all. What am I hauling and which truck do you want me to take?”
“Some drunk dick drove his pickup into a cinderblock wall. Martha has the address. Take the big red boy.” He pointed to a neighboring flatbed truck.
“I’m on it.”
“Thanks, Tristan. Really appreciate it.” He returned to his window washing and began whistling the chorus of Baba O’Riley. That was the thing about Adelson. He always acted like you were doing him the biggest favor ever just by performing the job he paid you to do.
The Everywhere Towing Company was the largest of its kind in a forty mile radius with a fleet of six trucks and was never hurting for business. No matter what the economy was doing, someone somewhere was always stuck on the side of a road and needing to be rescued. When I wasn’t actively driving one of the trucks I’d help with either Adelson’s side windshield repair business or basic maintenance on the vehicles. Most weeks I took three ten hour shifts. Adelson was a decent boss and because I reliably showed up for work and did what I was supposed to do he’d been trying to get me to commit to full time, promising benefits and even a stake in my own truck. The money wasn’t terrible. Yet I hadn’t considered taking him up on the offer. It felt like giving up, becoming just another permanent cog in the machine of ordinary living.
Adelson’s wife Martha gave me the address in Superior and I was on my way. Once I was on the road I had time to think so I indulged in my favorite topic, which was Cadence Gentry. I couldn’t explain what was happening to me, why I was breaking form and becoming some mushy fool who texted things like ‘Can’t wait to see you tonight’ and absolutely meant it.
I was aware that I might be making an ass out of myself. And I didn’t care. Cadence had quickly occupied a vital role in my life that I’d never sought to fill. She got me excited. She cracked me up. She pressed her cheek against my heart and fell asleep in my arms, trusting that I’d be there when she woke up. I didn’t mind because I didn’t want to be anywhere else. Because of Cadence I was seriously wondering whether I should accept Adelson’s respectable deal, rejecting more profitable yet unlawful enterprises for good.
I might do that. I just might.
We’d been living in a bubble these past few weeks, wrapped up completely in each other and ignoring external factors. Her family. My family. The collective gasp of dismay that would echo from the valley all the way down to here to Emblem when the news broke that the crown jewel of the Gentry family was involved with a criminal.
Maybe I was overreacting. Cadence’s family had Emblem origins and a few of them were no angels. Plus they’d embraced Curtis without hesitation even though his reputation was nothing to be proud of. Still, I was aware of the difference between me and Curtis. Curtis was already running at full marathon speed up the road toward reformation when he fell for a Gentry daughter. I hadn’t even left the starting gate yet.
Cadence had urged me to call Curtis as soon as possible today so after I was finished retrieving the broken pickup from Superior and then rescuing an elderly couple on the side of a Tucson road I ate a quick lunch in the front seat of the tow truck and then called my brother.
“Hey,” I said when I heard him pick up.
“Hey yourself.” He was smiling, pleased that I called. I could hear it in his voice. I hoped he’d still be pleased by the end of the call.
I cleared my throat. “Do you have a few minutes? I need to talk to you.”
“Sure.” The happiness faded from his voice and I couldn’t blame him. Phone calls from me hadn’t always delivered the best news.
“Curt, there’s something I wanted you to hear from me.”
“What’s that?” His voice changed, became tired. And sad. Like he expected the worst before I said the words.
“I’ve been seeing Cadence.”
A moment of vast silence followed.
“Cadence?” Of all the bombshells he expected me to drop that wasn’t among them. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, Cadence Gentry. You’ve met her,” I joked. “She teaches at Emblem High.”
“You and Cadence,” he said slowly. “Well, shit, I didn’t see that one coming.”
“Do I detect the tone of disapproval, big brother?”
“Come off it, Tristan.” He exhaled loudly. “What the hell are you doing?”
This wasn’t going well. My defenses rose and when that happened I became a jerk. “You really want a graphic description? You are going to be a father so I assumed you knew what parts are supposed to go where.”
“Why her?” he asked quietly.
“Why not her?”
He heaved another sigh, like he couldn’t believe he had to waste all his mature, upstanding time to have this conversation. Which was a big fat fucking joke because Curtis hadn’t exactly enjoyed a clean route to his suburban destiny. He forgot that I knew the same people he’d known and I’d heard the stories about what he could do with his fists and sometimes, when the occasion rose, with a knife.
“I’m surprised,” he said.
“Obviously.”
“Look, Cadence really has her shit together. She knows exactly what she wants to do.”
“I know. Cadence is amazing. Practically a saint.”
“And is that why she’s suddenly become part of your plans? Because you want to mess her up?”
I was about to shoot back an ugly comment but then I remembered my first intentions where Cadence was concerned. When she flounced into the bar with all her teacher companions and then when she proudly flashed her carefully designed Positivity Passes around and boasted about making a difference I did want to mess her up. I wanted to mess her up so bad I could taste it. And now that’s the last thing I wanted. I was ashamed that the thought had ever crossed my mind.
“I care about her,” I told my brother, hoping he still had a little faith in me even if I hadn’t done a thing to earn it.
Curtis chewed on that information in silence for so long I had to ask if he was still around.
“I’m here,” he said. “Does she know you were arrested again in July?”
I was annoyed. “How the hell did you know about that?” I hadn’t called Curtis or
anyone else this time. I’d been prepared to sit there in a cage for as long as I needed to.
“I know it because of the goddamn internet, Tristan. Your fucking mug shot is online. Assault and disorderly conduct, wasn’t it?”
“Charges were dropped,” I muttered, ready to explain that the situation involved some drunk old man hassling a female server at a taco place in Grande. And the charges were indeed dropped when the girl told her side of the story, which was confirmed by surveillance cameras.
Curtis wasn’t interested in explanations though. Apparently he only wanted to stalk me online and then draw his own conclusions. “You got lucky this time. But you’re not a kid anymore. It’s time to straighten yourself out.”
Fuck this.
I laughed like a maniac for a minute before responding. “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to, Curtis? You wear your original gang identification in the ink you tattooed to your fucking skin. You can pretend up there in the valley all you want. But I know exactly where you came from and what kind of guy you were.”
“And I changed,” he shot back. “Believe me, I’m not proud of who I was and every day I try to make up for that. But you? Tristan, do you think I don’t know that you’re up to all kinds of shit when you’re not driving around a tow truck or screwing around? I thought maybe when your gang of idiots scattered you’d realize you were on the road to nowhere but that didn’t happen. This is looking like a permanent way of life for you, drifting between scams and getting tossed into lockup once in a while.”
“Then you should be all kinds of thrilled that I’m hanging around Cadence. Maybe, just maybe, she’ll be the one to pull me up, to reform my scandalous ways. Wouldn’t that be exciting?” I was mocking him, trying to slap him in the face with his own condescension.
His reply was icy, devastating.
“Not if you drag her down instead.”
If he’d cursed me out instead the effect would have been less painful. He knew it too, tried to backpedal right away.
“Tristan, that was fucked up. I didn’t mean-“
