by Susan Juby
“It’s East Indian dance music, but it’s contemporary,” added Sofia. “It’s got a bit of hip-hop and electronica. Even disco.”
The clerk unfolded his long, gaunt body, got off his stool, and walked over to the rack they’d just been looking at.
“The India section’s right here,” he said. Then he shot another surreptitious glance at Sofia and walked quickly away.
“He was totally checking you out,” said Cleo, impressed.
Now it was Sofia’s turn to look uncomfortable.
“I’ve got some bhangra,” said Chris. “At home.”
“So does his aunt,” added Cleo.
“Good. We can listen to a bunch of stuff. See what fits,” said Chris.
“Alex is going to need help putting the music together. You know, mixing it so it matches the different movements,” continued Cleo.
“Chris can do that!” said Sofia.
Chris nodded.
“You two should make a date,” said Cleo. Alex refused to look at Chris. He focused on a large poster for a rock band. The poster described them as THE BIGGEST BAND IN THE WORLD. He’d never heard of them.
“I can come to your place if you want,” said Chris.
“He videotaped his test,” said Cleo. “You guys can watch that to check for timing.”
“Right on.” Chris smiled and Alex noticed the sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of his nose. Alex reminded himself that Chris wasn’t interested in him. He was probably interested in Cleo. Or Sofia.
“How about Monday after school?” asked Chris.
Alex nodded and then tried to look as noninappropriately interested as possible. He only barely stopped himself from giving Chris a punch in the arm as he nodded back.
“Super,” he said, and immediately regretted it.
“Okay. We’ve got to book. I’m going to be late for French tutoring this afternoon,” said Sofia.
As soon as Chris and Sofia were gone, Cleo turned to Alex. “Just in case you’re blind, that guy, who, by the way, is incredibly cute, likes you.”
“He’s a friend.”
“Alex, if you spent any time looking at anything other than horses, you’d see what I mean. I’m telling you he likes you.”
“Please,” said Alex, but his heart gave a little skip as Cleo’s suggestion worked its way into his mind.
“You are a social being. A teenage male who is capable of having fun. Hey, why don’t you come to the party with Jenny and me tonight and I’ll prove it to you.”
Alex didn’t answer.
“Come on,” said Cleo. “It’s time you figured out that there’s more to life than just riding.”
Alex was as surprised as Cleo when he found himself nodding yes.
FEBRUARY 10
19
Alex
“IT’S SATURDAY NIGHT,” said Cleo, slurring her words just a bit. “It’s not like we’re showing tomorrow. We’ll stay five more minutes and then we can go. I know he’s going to come. I can sense it.” Cleo tried to swing her arm affectionately around Alex’s neck, but ended up cuffing him in the head.
He couldn’t believe he’d let her talk him into driving her and her roommate to this party. The roommate, a big blond girl, disappeared quickly, leaving him and Cleo alone in a crowd of strangers in the basement of this house in Ladysmith. All the fun from their shopping afternoon had disappeared. Now he was just tired and uncomfortable.
“I should get going,” he hinted, trying for the twentieth time to get her to budge.
Cleo leaned onto him from her place on the arm of the threadbare orange love seat. Her elbow poked painfully into his shoulder. They were supposedly waiting for the elusive boy she’d met just before Christmas. So far her relationship with Mr. Right involved making out with him in public at house parties. She wasn’t even sure of the boy’s name. The guy’s friends called him Rob, but she thought that might be his last name.
When Alex was tempted to think of Cleo’s personal life as pathetic, he had to remind himself that she was doing better than he was. He was 100 percent romance-free and had resigned himself to staying that way until he was out of high school. Maybe until he was dead.
Alex vaguely recognized a few of the people around them. He thought a couple of them went to his school in Cedar, although he was so far out of the social loop he wasn’t even sure. They were mostly druggies and skaters, boys with haircuts that ranged from mod to dirty disco freak circa 1975, girls in low-rise tight jeans with T-shirts cropped short to show their pierced navels. Eminem and 50 Cent were on the stereo, giving him a headache.
“I’ve got to go,” he said. He was stopped by Cleo’s death grip on his arm.
“He’s here,” she said. “Oh my God, look over there. He’s here!”
Alex followed her gaze. There, in the entrance to the living room, stood a boy. His black hair was longish, and it fell into his eyes. He held a skateboard tipped up at his side and his loose jeans were held up by a belt with a big silver buckle. The boy’s blue eyes locked on Alex’s and Alex felt his chest constrict at the same time as Cleo whispered, “It’s him! And he’s totally looking at me.”
As the black-haired boy got closer, Alex felt himself go very still. Cleo slid down beside him onto the couch so she was almost in his lap.
“Hey,” said the boy. He smiled but his eyes were appraising.
Cleo grinned, bleary but ecstatic.
“This is my friend Alex,” she said, her voice coy.
The boy’s smile widened. “Hey, Alex. I’m Cameron.”
Alex felt like someone had punched him, if it was possible to be punched in a good way.
Cameron stared at Alex for an extralong few seconds, then turned his attention back to Cleo.
“Alex and I ride together,” said Cleo. “We’re just friends.”
Cameron laughed. “Right on. All I ride is my skateboard.”
In the dim light of the party Cameron’s blue eyes were cast into shadow. There was a slick confidence and a hunger about him that made Alex’s stomach jump.
“Alex does dressage. He’s really good,” said Cleo.
Cameron nodded, his eyelids hooded and heavy.
“I bet he is,” he said. “So you guys want to get high?”
By the time Cameron and Cleo had smoked a joint and Cleo had one more beer it was one o’clock in the morning and Alex was ready to crawl out of his own skin. He’d never been to a party like this before. The clouds of smoke made his throat hurt and the music and people made his head ache. Being so close to Cameron made him want to dive underwater and stay there.
Cleo lay on the couch, her head on Alex’s lap, her feet on Cameron’s. She was too loaded to talk, but she wasn’t quite asleep, either.
“Look, I’ve got to go. I’ve got to ride in the morning,” said Alex.
“I’ll help you take her home.”
Alex was relieved. He didn’t want to leave Cleo at the party, but knew she’d protest if he tried to pull her away from Cameron.
“Come on,” said Cameron, sliding out from under Cleo’s legs. The two boys sat her up, then hoisted her off the couch. They walked her past her roommate, Jenny, who sat beside another girl, on the floor, just inside a darkened hallway.
“Hey,” she said. Her eyes were glassy and unblinking.
“We’re going to take Cleo home. You want to catch a ride?” Alex asked her.
“No worries,” said Jenny as she rocked back and forth to the music.
Cameron and Alex half walked, half dragged Cleo out of the basement, up a short set of concrete stairs, and onto the wet, dark street. Their arms touched where they met behind Cleo’s thin back.
“Good thing she’s not very big,” said Cameron. “She’s like a little bird or something.”
Cleo stirred between them; she seemed about to speak but then her head dropped back down.
“There’s more to her than you might think,” said Alex softly.
“Sorry?”
“Oh,
nothing. My car’s over here.”
As they approached the IROC, Cameron laughed.
“Nice ride,” he said.
“It’s my dad’s. Or it was.”
They folded Cleo into the backseat and then drove in silence out of Ladysmith back toward Yellow Point. At this hour the streets were quiet and black, except for the odd car full of teenagers spinning through the rain.
Alex was so busy trying not to be aware of the boy beside him, he jumped when Cameron spoke.
“You go to school out here?” he asked as Alex turned onto Yellow Point Road.
“Yeah. Cedar. You?”
“Not really in school right now,” said Cameron.
They didn’t speak again until Alex pulled the car over to the side of the road outside the entrance to Stoneleigh.
“This way,” Alex directed. They carried Cleo along a brick path that led to the back of her dorm. She’d told him enough times how the girls snuck in and out of the school to know where to take her. When they reached the back door, which had been propped open with a stick, Alex and Cameron turned Cleo so she was looking at them.
“Cleo,” Alex whispered. “Wake up. You’re home.”
When Cleo opened her eyes, Alex thought he could see his face reflected in them.
“I love you, Chad,” she whispered, and her eyes fell shut again.
Cameron made a face at Alex.
“That makes a guy feel special.”
“Cleo,” Alex persisted. “Wake up. You have to go in now.”
“Okay,” she said. Then, like a sleepy child, she walked through the open door and let it shut gently behind her.
Alex and Cameron walked back to the car in silence. When they reached the road Alex turned to Cameron.
“If you tell me where you live, I’ll give you a ride home,” he said, wondering if Cameron could hear his heart pounding.
“Thanks, buddy,” said Cameron, his voice hoarse. “And maybe you should give me your phone number.”
Alex couldn’t see the other boy very well in the dark but he could sense his body and smell his aftershave and the spicy scent of marijuana, and when Cameron leaned forward and, without speaking a word, kissed him under the flickering streetlight, Alex was only half surprised.
FEBRUARY 11
20
Alex
THE NOTE LAY on the counter when Alex walked into the kitchen the next afternoon.
Alex,
Someone named Cameron called. He said he’ll try back later.
Maggie
Ever since the kiss Alex had been veering between feelings of guilt and excitement. He’d almost convinced himself that the previous night was a dream. He never in a million years thought Cameron would call.
He walked quickly from the kitchen to the living room and back. Unbidden, his friend Chris’s face popped into his thoughts. He gave his head a shake and kept walking. He stopped in his tracks—he was filthy. He had to get cleaned up! He raced into the bathroom and began peeling off his clothes. Without waiting for the water to heat up, he jumped into the icy spray of the shower.
From under the hiss of the water he heard something. Was that the phone?
Alex grabbed a towel and raced out of the bathroom, leaving the shower running behind him.
“Where’s the phone? Can someone get the phone?” he yelled.
“All right already,” came the reply.
May came out of the TV room holding the receiver.
“It’s for Grace. A hair appointment.”
Alex’s heart rate dropped back into normal range.
“Yeesh,” said May. “Since when do you care about the phone? You’re really starting to worry me.”
Alex padded back into the bathroom, suddenly feeling chilled.
Now the water was too hot and it scalded his arm as he reached under the spray to turn it down. He stepped back into the shower and grabbed the shampoo bottle.
Cameron had called. Now what?
He thought of the conversation he’d had with Cleo when she finally dragged herself to the barn at one o’clock that afternoon.
“Well, what did you think of Rob?” she’d asked. “Isn’t he gorgeous?”
She didn’t even know Cameron’s name. How serious could she be about him?
“He seems nice.”
“You could tell that we have a connection, right?”
“Sure, I guess.”
“Do you think he likes me?”
“I don’t know. I’m not good with these things.”
“He’s got to be into me. We’ve hooked up three times now.”
Actually, Alex felt like correcting her, you didn’t hook up with him last night. I did. Alex wondered whether Cleo and Cameron had really been together those times she said they had, or had Cleo gotten so trashed she just assumed they had?
“Nothing really happened last night and I’m not blaming you or anything, but if there hadn’t been a third party between us…well, who knows. And we still sat, thigh-to-burning-thigh, on the love seat. My memory after that is kind of sketchy. All I remember is that you guys took me home and then I threw up. Did he and I, you know, kiss? When you dropped me off?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Damn,” she said. “Next time I’ll wear tighter jeans.”
Where exactly was he supposed to slip his your-crush-kissed-me confession into that conversation?
Alex wondered if the situation would be any easier if everyone involved was straight; if he and Cameron were friends and they were both after Cleo. Then they could have a fistfight and the winner would ride off into the sunset with the girl. Alex’s mind refused to cooperate with that scenario, however. When he tried to imagine it, he and Cameron started out fighting, then fell to the ground in a clinch. God, thought Alex, I can’t even imagine being straight. He thought he might be the gayest guy alive.
“Ugh,” he said out loud, as he thrust his head back under the stream of hot water.
Alex dried off and went up to his room to change. When he came back downstairs to begin making dinner, he found Colette Reed sitting in the living room. Alone. That meant his sisters and aunt were hiding in their rooms.
“Hi,” he said. He worked hard to get a smile onto his face.
Ms. Reed was in a sapphire-blue suit. Her liberally applied perfume made Alex’s nose run.
“Alex,” she said.
So she was sober. She only remembered his name when she was sober. Alex wondered how Ms. Reed, who was loaded almost every night and all day on weekends, maintained her career. Grace said it was because the people she did business with were just as bad. Alex grudgingly respected that at least she kept herself together enough to run her business during the week. His father didn’t even seem able to do that. He hardly even went to the dealership anymore. As far as Alex could tell, one of the senior sales guys was basically running the place.
“How’s my horse?” she asked. The question sent a thrill of fear through him. Her horse. There was no getting around the fact that Detroit was her horse. She was always reminding Alex.
“He’s good. Are you sure you won’t let me pay you to ride him?” he asked, even though he knew she’d say no and that even if she said yes, he had no money to pay her.
“No, that’s not necessary. After all, we’re practically family,” she said, her red lips in a thin line.
“Yeah. I guess so.”
“Your father’s not home,” she said, and her lips stretched back. Alex thought she looked like one of those brightly colored tropical frogs about to catch a fly.
“Ah, no.”
“And he’s not at work.”
“Really?”
“Really. So I thought I’d wait for him here.”
“Oh. Okay. Great. You want to come and see Detroit? I’m just heading out to feed him and Mr. T.”
“Not really,” she said. But she stood and put on her long fur coat and followed Alex out of the house. She picked her way carefully across the driveway aft
er first casting a long, suspicious look in the direction of the RV.
Alex exhaled a visible breath into the cold evening air and tried to think of something to say. “So,” he said. It was the best he could do on short notice.
Ms. Reed ignored him.
Inside the fence, they were immediately joined by both horses. Turnip was first. He trotted over and dropped his head to Alex’s chest.
“Hey, old man,” said Alex, giving the horse’s ears a scratch. Detroit stood at Turnip’s flank and whickered his own greeting. “And hello to you, big man.”
Alex turned to Ms. Reed. “You’d think they hadn’t seen anyone in days. I just saw them an hour ago.”
“Mmmm,” she said, turning her head toward the RV.
“You go ahead,” said Alex. “I don’t want them to get you dirty.”
Ms. Reed stepped into the barn and he followed her, drawing the heavy rope across the entrance so the horses wouldn’t follow them in while he prepared their dinners.
The small barn was as clean as the house was untidy. Alex switched on the light in the tack and feed room.
“I’ll be glad when the days start getting longer,” he said as he weighed their hay, measured out their pellets and supplements, and cut a carrot and an apple into each rubber bucket. He was grateful that at least his dad always paid the horses’ feed bills—eventually.
Finally Ms. Reed seemed to notice what he was doing. “You really do fuss around, don’t you?”
Alex looked up and adjusted his knitted hat.
“Horses—” he began and then stopped, worried that she might take anything he said as a criticism.
“Horses are for barn girls and boys to take care of,” said Ms. Reed. Her head went up like a dog catching a scent on the wind.
A second later, Alex heard the sound of an engine.
“I guess my dad’s home,” he said, but she was already on her way out the door.
After he’d put the horses in their stalls for the night he headed back into the house. As he passed the RV he saw movement behind the slat blinds and heard raised voices.
