Boys Don't Cry

by Jennifer Melzer

  “I’m serious,” he declared when I started to back away. “Whatever you did, it brought him back to me and I’ll love you forever for that.”

  I could have asked what that was all about in the car on the way home, but I didn’t.

  Looking back, I don’t know if a part of me didn’t really want to know, or if it was something else entirely. Maybe the perfect bubble around us cushioned me and whispered sweet nothings in my ear. Seriously, my life had never felt as easy as it did with Nate in it, and it never would again.

  Nate was the beginning of the end, the guy I was gonna make sacrifices for and have no regrets over, which is so not me at all. Beyond my family, I can’t think of a single thing worth sacrificing my dreams over, but then Nate happened.

  His melancholy should have pushed me away, but all it did was draw me in deeper. I wanted to fix him, which is stupid. People are who they are, and maybe we can make their lives brighter, but we can’t change them. We can’t turn them into something they’re not, so we hide, I guess. We pretend not to see the things about them we know aren’t right, even though they’re practically out in the open and begging us to gawk.

  The truth is, I never asked him.

  Stupid, I know, but love doesn’t exactly have a lot of brain cells, and the few it does possess get snuffed out by the hormones.

  It’s Thursday night and we’re at the county fair. The guy behind the counter looks like he hasn’t showered properly in a week, maybe longer. His tobacco-stained teeth disappear behind his lips when he winces and ducks his head to hide the embarrassment he feels for my boyfriend as I lower the water gun. His neighbor coaxed us in twenty minutes ago, urging Nate to win something cute and cuddly for his little lady knocking over those metal milk jugs.

  Easy enough, since Nate used to pitch when he played baseball in high school, but I’m not letting him off the hook so easily. I immediately drift toward the next stall to try my hand at shooting ducks with an accuracy that would embarrass a lesser man than the one standing beside me. There’s an elephant wearing a tutu hanging from the rafters. She’s about the same size as my little sister, and I’m pretty sure she’ll be great friends with Waffles. In fact, I’ve already named her Pancake.

  Nate’s laughing, shaking his head telling me to remind him not to ever call my sniper capabilities into question when the bellow of his name rises above the crowd.

  “Nathaniel Thorne!”

  “Shit,” he mutters, leaning into me and almost disrupting my final shot.

  “Nice shooting, girl,” the dirty guy behind the counter congratulates me. When he stretches up to unhook Pancake from her home and passes her over into my arms, I squeeze her and start to hand her over to Nate when the sound of his name reaches us again.

  I shudder this time because I’ve come to associate the sound of that voice with the nastiness of its female counterpart.

  Glancing back over my shoulder, Cody’s impossible to miss, his shoulders level with the heads of pretty much everyone else around him. I notice two of their other friends crowded around him as he picks up the pace, more or less leaving them in the trail of bodies grumbling in his wake.

  “Nate!” Cody calls out again, and as I lower the rifle onto the counter and turn my head, he’s right there behind me. “Dude, what’s up? Didn’t you hear me calling you, man?”

  I’m not gonna lie. A breath of relief deflates my chest as soon as I realize Gretchen’s nowhere to be seen.

  I wonder if they broke up after the Independence Day blowout, or if she’s off getting made over at the Mary Kay table we passed inside the big barn stretching across the other side of the track.

  Nate hasn’t talked to him since the Fourth. I know this because the only person Nate talks to these days outside of work is me. Not because I’m selfish, or anything. I don’t horde him all to myself, or tell him he’s not allowed to have any other friends. It just doesn’t ever feel like there’s much time for anyone else—for either of us. My guild pretty much hates me right now, and I can hardly blame them, but you know how it is.

  “I didn’t hear you.”

  Sweeping in, he throws his long arms around Nate, lifting him off the ground with a hefty groan and spinning him around before setting him back down. “Where the hell have you been, man? I’ve been texting you all week.”

  “I’ve been busy, work and stuff.”

  “And stuff,” Cody rolls his eyes and grins over at me. “You’re gonna let him call you ‘stuff’?” Reaching out he grabs onto the trunk of the elephant I’m still holding, wiggling it between his fingers. “Can I just say you two are absofuckinglutely adorable? Everywhere you are,” he looks to Nate, then back to me, “there she is. It must be getting pretty serious if you’re winning her big stuffed animals at the fair.” He’s standing close enough that I can smell the alcohol on his breath, and his vibrant green eyes are more than a little bloodshot.

  “Yeah,” Nate shrugs awkwardly, but he doesn’t look over at me.

  “I never thought I’d see the day. Nathaniel Thorne all hung up on one member of the opposite sex.”

  I wonder, when he flashes his gaze over me, if that was a dig meant to make me question Nate’s fidelity and character, but I ignore him.

  “Don’t start, man.”

  “I’m not staring anything.” His hand comes up, fingers pinching into Nate’s cheek, and when he squeezes it takes Nate several attempts to jerk out of his grip. “I’m basking in your happy. I live to see you smile. I was starting to think you forgot how to do that, but every time I see you, you’re with her and you’re happy and it’s…” Throwing his arms up dramatically, he declares, “It’s a beautiful fucking thing. And she’s adorable, seriously.” Turning his eyes back to me, he asks, “Do you even have any idea how fucking cute you are?”

  “Cody, cut it out.”

  “What?” he balks. “Can’t I be happy for you? You have met my girlfriend. You know what I have to put up with. I haven’t smiled like that since the ninth grade, man. I’m happy. I’m so happy, Nate.”

  “Jim Beam happy, I’m guessing,” Nate says casually.

  “Is there any other kind of happy? Well, obviously because here it is right in front of me.”

  His chest rises, I feel his body stiffening beside me, and then he sighs out a breath, asking, “So what’s up? What are you guys up to?” He gestures with his head to the two guys who’ve finally managed to catch up with Cody. I recognize one of them as Hunter from the river lot. The other guy I’ve never seen before. “Besides walking around the fair shit faced? Hitting on unsuspecting high school girls?”

  “Speaking of unsuspecting high school girls, we just saw Nadine Forester. Smoking fucking hotter than ever.”

  Nate just nods. “We were just getting ready to leave.”

  There are supposed to be fireworks tonight, after the demolition derby. I was under the impression we were staying for those, but I say nothing to contradict him.

  “Shit, really? We just got here.”

  “Yeah, we just dropped in to get something to eat.”

  “We need to get together again, and soon. Summer’s practically over. You know how it is after the fair. I’ll be heading back to Buckhorn in the blink of an eye.”

  “Yeah…”

  “So, Mom is having a big party down at the lot on Saturday, and she said you need to come.”

  “I gotta work on Saturday, sorry, man.”

  “You’re not working all day. You’ll be done early enough to drop by. Come on, this is my mom we’re talking about. Do you have any idea how happy she was to see you on the Fourth, man?”

  “Yeah.” He shifts his feet uncomfortably.

  “You’re like the good son. The one she never got. Come on. Don’t hurt Mom’s feelings.” Then he turns to me and says, “Tell him, Tali. Tell him how fun it’ll be. You’ll make him come, won’t you?”

  “I… uh…” I stammer. “I don’t really make Nate do anything, but if he wants to come…”

&
nbsp; “He wants to come,” Cody insisted. “Even if he doesn’t know it yet. Promise you’ll be there, dude. Even if you have to call in sick to work, you’ll be there. Promise you’ll bring him, Tali.”

  I should have just said no to him. I realize that now. Given what little Nate told me about the guy he used to be in Cody’s company, the one he doesn’t really like all that much…

  I don’t see that guy in Nate, but I think I see him in Cody, and I don’t like him much at all either.

  Maybe if I’d taken the initiative and just lied about some plans we didn’t actually have, everything would have turned out differently, but you know what they say about hindsight.

  20/20 and all that.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Nate doesn’t call off work on Saturday, and I’m actually glad for that because it means we won’t be at the river lot all day, and I won’t have to be around Gretchen—who I’m pretty sure hates me even though she doesn’t even know me—long. Normally, I don’t let those kinds of things bother me, but there’s something overly emotional about the way she hates me, like it has more to do with Nate and because I come with him.

  We almost don’t go at all. He works until six, and when he gets home we wind up in bed for almost an hour before slipping into the shower together and getting lost again for a little while because Delilah’s at their gram’s.

  It’s exhausting, being in love on that level, and he nearly falls asleep after we get out of the shower, but I remember Cody making me promise, and the fact that I said I’d bring him no matter what, so I nudge him out of bed even though neither of us really even wants to go.

  It’s almost nine by the time we roll into the river lot, and there are so many cars and motorcycles parked behind Cody’s mom’s lot, it’s damn near impossible to find a spot. Not just Nate and Cody’s friends, but a lot of people Cody’s mom knows, and I can tell before I even get out of the car they’ve been drinking all day and they’re a rowdy crowd.

  Gleeful screaming fills the air on top of deep splashes from the river and the sound of Jet Skis taking off from the docks to slice across the rich green expanse of water rolling through the valley. Campfire smoke billows through the air, carrying with it the delightful smell of food, and as soon as she sees us, Sarah Reynolds, Cody’s mom, races toward us squealing like a teenage girl as she throws her arms around Nate’s neck and kisses his cheek. She smudges away the leavings of her burgundy lipstick and beams over at me.

  “Cody’s gonna be so happy to see you. He’s in the camper changing out of his swim trunks.”

  Nate grabs my hand as Sarah leads us toward the throng of bodies that instantly make me feel overwhelmed and uncomfortable. She tells us to help ourselves, there’s beer in the keg and when Nate tells her he doesn’t drink anymore, she grins and reaches over to clip his cheek, patting him as she says, “You’re such a good boy now. I’m so proud of you, and I wish you’d start rubbing off on Cody. That boy is nothing but trouble. You see what he’s doing to my hair? Turning it grey, and I never had wrinkles before.”

  She doesn’t have wrinkles, I don’t care what she says. Maybe the barest hint of crow’s feet at the edges of her pale blue eyes, but that’s about it. And I’ve seen blonds go grey before, but not her. She looks like she just walked out of some hairband video, the kind my dad swears they used to play on MTV in some distant time when the M stood for music.

  “You’re still the most beautiful mom on the planet, Ms. Reynolds.”

  “You little shit,” she grins, shaking her head. “Always did know how to make me blush. There’s sodas in the cooler. And go on, grab something to eat. Cody said you had to work, so you’re probably hungry.”

  “Starved.”

  “So eat. Go on!” She winks

  Then she rushes off to rejoin her guests and all I can think about is what a bad idea this was, and how much better it would have been if we just stayed in Nate’s bed and forgot there was a world beyond the confines of his mattress. He must sense my discomfort because he squeezes my fingers, and then Cody’s racing toward us, the grin on his face so wide that I actually relent a little in my judgment on the horridness of being here.

  He’s never been the person he said he becomes in Cody’s company, though the discomfort is evident. Like Cody holds the key to every one of Nate’s secrets, and if we spend too much time around him I’ll see a side of him he never wants me to see.

  Slapping Nate on the shoulder as he approaches, he throws his arms around him in a bear hug, lifting him off the ground and wrenching his hand from mine. Then he steps back, reaches for me and squeezes so hard I think I’d probably have puked if I’d eaten dinner before we came. He’s so happy to see Nate, to see us, and when he sets me back down, he leans out to tell me, “You keep bringing him back to me. You’ll never know how much that means, Tali. I thought he was lost for good.”

  Nate leans into me, his arm sweeping across my shoulders and drawing me against him. His lips brush my temple when he confesses, “How could anyone get lost with a light this bright to guide them out of the darkness.”

  “Dude, that’s fucking poetry. Seriously, you should write that shit down.” Cody winks over at me, adding, “Whatever you’re doing to this guy, keep doing it. He’s smiling and he’s here with his friends where he belongs, and it’s a beautiful thing.”

  Snaking my arm around Nate’s waist, I squeeze him. “Making Nate smile is my mission in life.”

  “Keep her, Nate. If you have to lock her in a tower so she can’t get away, you need to keep her. Seriously, man.”

  And those words seal my doom.

  Her loud shrieks silence the cacophony of the raucous crowd of bodies milling around the fire, and as they part I see Gretchen coming up the hill from the river. Her near-translucent skin glows bright pink, the burn of an entire day in the sun, and her dark red hair drips in long streaks plastered against her face. She’s got a towel wrapped around her chest, and her flip flops slip through the sandy grass trailing up the embankment.

  She’s shouting, an arm raised as her finger points directly at us. “Are you kidding me right now? Who the fuck invited him?”

  “She is wasted.” Cody’s mother leans over and grabs onto her son’s shirt collar, growling, “Do something about her before someone calls the cops. Take her home, or take her into the camper, just do something with her, or I will, and it won’t be pretty.”

  Growling as he jerks his shoulder out of her grip, he rolls his eyes toward us and starts away to head off Gretchen. We watch as Cody intercepts her, and I realize, as she rails against him and tears herself away from the hands grasping her shoulders as he tries to talk calmly to her, she’s really drunk.

  Cody reaches for her again, but she staggers, turns around and slaps his hand away viciously, her finger pointing right in his face as she loudly declares, “No! Fuck you. You’re always defending him, but you know as well as I do it was his fault.”

  And she’s charging right toward us, pushing through the crowd of bodies to reach us. No one stops her. They just sort of part like the Red Sea and she storms through. I don’t know how long it takes for her to close the space between the river bank and Nate, but it’s like she teleports, her finger jabbing into his chest as she demands to know, “Who invited you? You’re not welcome here, you fucking prick.”

  “Cody Shane,” Sarah bellows, the shrill sound of her voice echoing through the river lot. Somewhere a few lots over bottle rockets go whistling through the air, their piercing takeoff giving me chills. And then Sarah’s got a hold of Gretchen’s towel, spinning her away from us before she can say another word to Nate.

  I haven’t glanced over at him yet. My wide eyes lock on Gretchen, who’s twisting and flailing to free herself from Cody’s mom as she spits back over her shoulder, “Get the fuck out of here, you piece of shit.” Wrenching out of Sarah’s grip, the towel falls away and her arms shoot out, connecting with Nate’s chest as she shoves him backward. “Take your slut and fucking go. No one w
ants you around.”

  Sarah slaps her across the face, the shock of it startling a wide-eyed gasp from Gretchen, her hand rising to smooth across the burning sting already rising red against her cheek.

  Cody swoops in like a shadow, sinking his hands into the backs of her sunburned arms and dragging her away. She kicks backward, her bare foot denting his shin, and when she whips her head up I see tears streaming down her pink face in long, glistening lines. Dripping off her chin, her mouth twists into an expression of grief and madness unlike any I’ve ever seen, and even though I have no idea what’s going on, why she hates him so much, why she hates me, my heart is rattling inside my chest like a jackhammer on concrete.

  “I hate you!” she screams. “It should have been you.” She turns to me suddenly, as if she’s only just noticed I’m there. “And you,” her arm shakes when she extends it toward me in warning, “he will fucking destroy you.” I watch her lick the tears from her lips, a queer smile dragging them upward as she laughs and tells me, “It’s what he does. He destroys everything he touches. He’ll kill you if you let him. He’s a fucking psychopath.”

  “You’re done, Gretchen!” Sarah shouts at her. “I’m finished. Get her out of here. I don’t care where you take her, but I don’t want to see her again.”

  “Mom…”

  “Now, Cody.”

  He has to wrap his arms around Gretchen’s chest to drag her back. She’s kicking and screaming, and I’m pretty sure she’s one or two shrieks away from someone calling the cops and reporting domestic violence. Everyone in a five hundred yard radius is staring, people at the lots on either side are craning their necks to see what’s going on as Cody tosses her over his shoulder and storms toward his truck. I don’t see him throw her inside, but a few minutes later Cody tears away from the lot, tires spitting gravel and mud. I still hear Gretchen shrieking and shouting when the dust starts to clear, and then Sarah’s hands are on Nate’s shoulders. She’s holding him steady, tilting her head up so he has no choice but to look her in the eye.