Nathan’s heart beat faster. Should he go down and accidentally bump into her? What would he say? He weighed his options, but before he could act, Skeet was back and Nathan decided to do nothing. He didn’t want to drag Skeet with him and risk a rebuff.
“I got a party update,” Skeet said. He pulled out a napkin with a crude map drawn on it. “It’s near Lake Lanier. Some kid’s grandfather owns land out there and it’s very private.”
“That’s pretty far out. You sure you want to go?” Nathan was having second thoughts. He’d told his parents there was a school dance after the game and they’d extended his curfew until twelve-thirty. He hadn’t liked lying to them, especially to his mother, because she was so scared for him when he was out of her sight.
“Come on,” Skeet said as Highland made another touchdown. “We have to celebrate Highland’s victory some way or another.”
By the time they arrived at the designated farmland site, the party was in full swing. Cars were parked haphazardly on wet grass and a large bonfire danced in a fire pit. Kids swarmed around the crackling flames and among coolers full of beer and wine drinks. Music boomed from a portable amp hooked to a generator. Couples had already paired off and were dancing or slipping away into the darkness with blankets.
“Does this guy’s grandfather know about this?” Nathan asked.
“I doubt it. But we’ll be long gone by the time he hears about it. Smell that sweet air?” Skeet asked. “Weed. Want some? It’ll cost a few bucks.”
“No, and neither do you.” Nathan struggled with his conscience. On the one hand, he felt daring and bold; on the other, guilty. He shouldn’t even be here. What so many of the kids took as their regular rites, Nathan had never done. He’d spent a lifetime pinned in place by his parents, and now he was a social retard—even by Skeet’s standards, who was hardly a party animal.
Skeet had no chance to argue his case for a joint because the sound of a cycle reverberated in the already noisy night air. Nathan turned and saw Lisa on her Harley. His mouth went dry. Skeet said, “I never expected her to show.”
“Wasn’t she invited?”
“Dude, no one here was invited. Word went around and whoever wanted to come, did.” Skeet looked thoughtful. “It’s just that she doesn’t party with us high school dweebs.”
“Well, she’s here.”
Skeet’s eyes narrowed. “You aren’t thinking that you’re going to get her to look your way, are you?”
“No,” Nathan said hastily, although it was exactly what he was thinking. “I was just making an observation.”
Skeet rocked back on his heels. “Listen, I’m going to go get a beer. Want one? Or should I bring you a bottle of spring water?”
Nathan didn’t really like beer—he’d tasted it on the sly at certain homeschool parties—but he didn’t like the way Skeet was riding him either. “Bring me a beer,” he said as Skeet walked away.
He kept an eye on Lisa as she tied her helmet to the cycle. He waved. She saw him, gave a halfhearted wave in return, but it was all he needed to hustle over to her side. He said, “I saw you at the game with some girl.”
“Jodie Price. She’s a friend.”
“She didn’t come with you to the party?”
“Jodie didn’t want to come. She hates crowds.” A damp chill had fallen on the field, and fog hovered just above the grass in the distance. Lisa watched several of the cheerleaders clumped together around the fire. “Not all girls travel in packs,” she added.
“Why did you come?”
“Haven’t you heard? I’m a party girl.”
The two images he had of Lisa, one of a party princess and the other of a loner, didn’t mesh. He was about to tell her that when a voice shouted, “Fight!”
Kids rushed toward the bonfire. Nathan and Lisa went to see what was happening. In the middle of the semicircle formed around the fire and the beer stash, Skeet was standing between Roddy and two of his fellow players. The three of them held bottles of beer and looked roaring drunk and as big as tanks. Roddy was in Skeet’s face, which looked pale but stony in the firelight. Roddy gave Skeet a shove. “Who invited you, faggot?”
Skeet said nothing, and that only seemed to make Roddy madder.
Nathan shouldered his way through the crowd and broke into the open. “Hey, leave him alone.”
Roddy looked up, and Nathan saw that the side of his face was swollen and that his eye was turning black—hits from the game, Nathan assumed. “Who’re you? A fellow faggot?” For some reason, this made a few in the crowd laugh.
Nathan stood beside Skeet. “I’m his friend.” He was scared, but Roddy’s rattlesnake meanness made Nathan mad. “He’s not doing anything to you.”
“He’s breathing my air.”
Again, laughter.
“Then let me remove him from your illustrious presence.”
Nathan’s sarcasm wasn’t lost on Roddy, who cursed him. He leaned into Nathan’s face. “I’m going to kick your ass first.”
“How about mine, Roddy? Going to kick mine too?” The voice was Lisa’s, and the crowd parted and started buzzing as she stepped into the circle next to Nathan and Skeet.
Roddy swayed and called her a skank.
“Hey!” Nathan said. “You can’t talk like that to her.”
“Says who? You with her, faggot-boy?”
“Nobody’s with me,” Lisa said. Firelight flickered over her face, reflecting in her eyes, now dark as the night sky. “But if you touch any of us, it won’t look too good on the police report,” she said. “You know, the one I’ll file and that will go on your permanent record for the Georgia coach to read when he’s considering you for scholarship money.”
Nathan could hardly believe her bravado. Roddy was hateful when he was sober, downright venomous when he was drunk.
Roddy’s expression twisted, but he didn’t take a swing at any of them. Nathan held his breath. Rod’s two buddies grabbed his arms. “Come on,” one said. “They ain’t worth it.”
Roddy swore some more, tossed what was left of his beer at Skeet and Nathan, and swaggered off. The crowd gave the three football players a wide path, mumbling among themselves, then turned away. Skeet wiped beer from his cheek with his sleeve. “He could have killed us.”
Nathan’s knees felt wobbly, but he didn’t let on. “He’s a jerk—” he started.
The night was split by the wail of sirens. Somebody screamed, “Cops!” and the kids scattered like roaches across the field toward their cars.
“No, firetrucks!” another voice amended, but no one was listening.
Skeet pulled Nathan’s arm. “Let’s boogie.”
Nathan was looking at Lisa, sprinting for her cycle. Instantly he knew what he was going to do. He reached into his pocket, grabbed his keys and pressed them into Skeet’s hand. “Take my car.”
“But—”
“Just park it on the street in front of your house. Put the keys under the floor mat.”
“How will you—”
“Do it!” Nathan took off running, catching up to Lisa’s cycle just as she was revving the engine. He threw his leg over the seat behind her.
“Get off!”
“No way.”
She hesitated. “You’ll slow me down. We’ll end up in jail.”
“I’m riding with you.”
“Off, Malone.”
“You’d better move it.”
“You don’t have a helmet.”
“Then you’ll just have to drive real careful.”
The field was almost empty of cars now, and the red cast of the firetruck’s lights could be seen swirling in the gloom, hurtling across the field toward the bonfire that glowed and crackled against the dark ground and pale, thickening fog.
“Hang on,” Lisa ordered. Leaning forward, she aimed the big Harley in the opposite direction from the fast-approaching truck. In seconds, Nathan was flying through the night, his arms holding her to him.
Nathan hunkered down, hanging
tight. Riding the Harley was like riding a wild horse, the ground so bumpy that he thought his teeth would jar loose. The dark night surrounded them, and all Nathan saw were blurs of branches shooting past as Lisa kept close to a tree line parallel to a fence. Eventually she hit a dirt road, pelting them with gravel as she turned onto it. The cycle finally hit the solid asphalt of the highway and the ride smoothed.
Nathan watched the white line of the road streak below his feet. His head filled with the noise of the machine and the aroma of her leather jacket. He was freezing, but also wild with the pleasure of the ride and the nearness of Lisa. He would have ridden to the ends of the earth with her, certain that he’d never experienced a greater high than this moment in time.
Lights began to fly past and he realized that they were back in civilization. The cycle slowed, turned again and stopped under glaring lights in a gas station. They both sat on the machine and breathed hard. Slowly the sound of a country song from a nearby car broke into Nathan’s consciousness, bringing him back to earth.
“You can let go now,” Lisa said.
Unable to feel his cold-numbed fingers, he did so stiffly. He got off the bike, flexed. “We made it.” He grinned.
She dismounted the cycle, brushed past him. “I need gas.”
He took the pump handle from her, reached into his pocket and pulled out money. “How much?”
“I can buy my own gas.”
“I owe you. I invited myself along.”
She took a ten-dollar bill from him and headed for the building. Nathan filled the Harley’s tank, staring at the beautifully airbrushed red heart emblazoned with her name in fancy letters on a purple ribbon. He’d never felt more alive. Being close to Lisa had awakened him, and he tried to think of a way to keep the feeling going. He glanced around, caught sight of a huge bookstore directly across the street—the kind that stayed open extra late.
She returned, handed him his change just as the pump clicked off. “Can you call your friend to come get you?”
He felt a moment of panic. “Can’t I bum a ride home? I don’t live too far from Crestwater. Don’t you have to head that way to get home yourself?”
“Afraid I’ll dump you out here, Malone?”
“Terrified,” he answered truthfully, but kept his tone unemotional. “How about some coffee? I’m cold, aren’t you?” He gestured across the street and watched emotions he couldn’t read cross her face.
“I need to be going.…”
“Come on. It’s warm in there. A cup of coffee. What can it hurt?”
Inside the bookstore, which smelled of newly printed books and fresh lemon oil, he bought them each a mug of mocha coffee, then found two easy chairs among the stacks. He watched Lisa sip from her cup and fumbled for a thread of conversation. “You did a brave thing back at the party, standing up to Roddy.”
“You’re the one who almost got his head knocked off.”
“Thanks for intervening. He would have killed me and Skeet and never thought twice about it.”
She smiled over the top of her cup, and it was as if someone had turned on a current through his body. “Rod’s a bully. He’s big, dumb and drunk. In the morning all he’ll be is sober.”
Nathan grinned. “But still big and dumb?”
“Count on it.” She warmed her hands around the cup. “Why did he go after Skeet?”
Nathan shrugged. “I guess because he can. I heard you stood him up last year for the prom. Why?”
She arched an eyebrow. “Because I could.” He laughed and she added, “Football season will be over soon and Rod will fade into the background. He won’t have staying power, believe me.”
Nathan wanted to take her hands in his, but he hesitated. What if she wouldn’t stand for it? He asked, “So what kind of music do you like?” She named a couple of bands. “I’m into country,” he said. “Not the twangy kind, but the modern kind.”
“You mean those songs about somebody doing somebody wrong?”
“I think of them as songs from the heart about life. Skeet and I play in my garage and work up some juice. He’s on keyboard. I play guitar. I—um—I’ve written a few songs myself. Don’t expect them to go platinum or anything.” She looked more interested. Of course. She liked to write too.
“Ever get any bookings?”
“Not since Morgan Frey’s ninth birthday party. Skeet and I were fourteen and the girls thought we were stars.” He grinned at the memory. “Our band lacks depth. We need more members.”
“A singer?”
“The right singer would be good. You a singer?” He didn’t dare to hope.
“I can’t sing a note.”
“So that’s a look at my life. How about you? What do you like to write?”
“Nothing that will ever get published.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Sure I do.” She took another sip of coffee. “I’ll never send them anyplace. The only person who reads my stuff is Fuller, and that’s for a grade.”
“I want my songs to get published. It would be a kick to hear them on the radio someday.”
She continued to drink the coffee, and silence lengthened between them. He searched for something else to say to her, to make her look at him with interest, to have her think he was cool. He should face it: He was dull and boring with a small, uninteresting life. Why should she talk to him?
“What was it like to be homeschooled?” she asked. “Didn’t you get lonely?”
“I was alone, but not too lonely. We did things with other homeschoolers—field trips, joint projects. I made it into the citywide spelling bee in seventh grade, but lost in the third round: excavate tripped me up. I’m going to use that word in a song someday, just to prove I can. Plus homeschooling has some real perks—the cafeteria lines are really short and the food’s incredible.”
That made her smile. “Your mother didn’t mind having you home all day?”
“She likes to teach. How about you? Have you always gone to Crestwater?” He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear her voice, have her eyes meet his.
“We moved here last January from Valdosta after construction work dried up for Charlie. He got a job here real easy, and there’s a lot of building going on in Atlanta. Mom works as an office coordinator for the same construction firm. As for me, well, one high school is pretty much like any other.”
“Who’s Charlie?”
“The man who lives with Mom and me.”
“Your stepdad?”
“No,” she said, leaving him to wonder.
His parents were boringly conventional and had been married forever. “Is he the guy who sometimes rides your cycle and picks you up at school?”
“We share my cycle when his truck’s down. But the Harley’s mine. Charlie bought it for me.”
Nathan had many questions he wanted to ask, but she was finished with her coffee, and he saw that she was getting restless. “Want another cup?”
“No thanks.” She asked a salesperson passing by for the time.
It was after midnight and his stomach knotted. He didn’t want to be late getting home, but he didn’t want the evening with Lisa to end. “You going to miss your curfew?” he asked.
She stood. “I don’t have curfews. But I’ll bet you do, don’t you, Malone?”
He felt embarrassed, hating to confess that he still had rules and limits set by his conventional parents. “Until twelve-thirty, but I don’t care if I’m late.”
“Come on,” she said. “I’ll drive fast.”
Getting on the cycle, he said, “My car’s at Skeet’s. He’s just down the street from me. It’ll be best if I park my car in my driveway tonight.”
“Whatever,” she said, and the engine roared to life.
There was little traffic and she got him to his car in less than twenty minutes. She cut the engine before hitting the top of his street and coasted. At Skeet’s street, he hopped in his car, fished out the key from under the floor mat.
“I
’ll walk this to the corner before I start up.” Lisa began pushing the Harley.
“How about a movie next Saturday night?” he whispered loudly, leaning out the window.
“I told you, Malone, I don’t date.”
Disappointed, he watched her disappear around the corner.
Nathan drove his car into his driveway, jogged to the front door and turned his key in the lock as the hall clock struck the half hour. He had made it. He took the stairs two at a time, quietly slipped into his bedroom and threw himself across his bed, euphoric. He’d spent part of an evening with Lisa and it had left him soaring, and hungry for more of her. He’d get her to go out with him again. He didn’t know how, but he would.
He heard one of the twins begin to cry, and soon after, the other started. They would be hungry, and his mother would come down the hall to their room to nurse them. And knowing his mother, she’d peek into his room to check on him. Nathan quickly struggled under the covers, pulling the sheet up just as he heard his door creak open. All tucked in, Mom. He heard the door close, and after a few minutes the twins quieted down. Nathan got out of bed, turned on a flashlight and found a legal pad. His head and heart were full of music and he wanted to write it down. Lisa had done that. She’d filled him with hope and fire.
Lisa sat for a long time at the corner, balancing her cycle and looking back at Nathan’s house. She saw a dim light go on in an upstairs room and wondered if it was his room. She fumbled in her jacket pockets, searching for a cigarette. She remembered stashing one, but now she couldn’t find it. She didn’t smoke much, but once in a while she craved a hit of nicotine.
Her search turned up empty and she swore under her breath. Charlie had most likely confiscated it. “You shouldn’t smoke,” he told her whenever he caught her with a cigarette.
Keep Me in Your Heart Page 26
