Dangerous Boys

by Abigail Haas

  We’d always been glued together by ambition: to get into a good college, out of Indiana, to have more than the pedestrian lives we saw played out every day around us. ‘Eyes on the prize’ we’d tell each other, as much a comfort when we were passed over for dates and party invites as a motivation. Alisha was the sheriff’s daughter, sure, but her good-girl status ran deeper than that, a fear of winding up no better than her cousin—a cautionary tale who fooled around with her boyfriend and wound up pregnant at sixteen, taking night classes at the community college and grappling for her diploma.

  ‘She was stupid,’ Alisha would say scornfully. ‘Mess around like that, there’s always consequences.’

  I believed it too. If you followed the rules, if you were careful and hardworking, you would get what you wanted in the end.

  But I was beginning to see how naïve that was. I’d always done the right thing, but there I was on a Friday night, pouring soda refills, while people who worked half as hard, sacrificed half as much, were living it up in a world I could only imagine.

  By eleven, there was only one other person left in the diner. Crystal was sprawled in a back booth, showing no signs of leaving. She’d been there for hours now, dressed in a pair of tight black jeans and a leather jacket, ekeing out a side of fries and a single Coke.

  ‘We’re closing.’ I loitered by her table, eyeing the cheque she’d left untouched.

  She glanced at her phone and sighed. ‘My ride is late. Can I hang out until he shows?’

  ‘I guess . . . ’ I looked around, but there was nobody to see either way. ‘I mean, sure.’

  I finished sweeping up, and began turning over chairs and pushing the tables back. Crystal didn’t move from the booth, she was poring over a local newspaper with a red pen bit between her teeth. It was the classifieds, I could see.

  ‘You’re looking for a job?’ I asked.

  She looked up. ‘Yeah. My new boss at the Quick-stop is a total ass, he keeps brushing up against me. Accidentally.’ Her voice dripped with scorn.

  I wandered closer, curious.

  ‘Any luck?’ I nodded at the paper.

  She shook her head. ‘Nothing yet.’

  ‘I’ll keep an eye out at the sheriff’s office,’ I offered. ‘People are posting ads on the bulletin board all the time.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Crystal blinked. She looked at me from under her choppy bleached bangs. ‘How do you like it there?’

  ‘Fine.’ I shrugged. ‘I mean, it’s a job.’

  ‘Tell me about it,’ she sighed. ‘You get benefits?’

  ‘In another month.’ I was counting the days until my basic insurance kicked in and I could take Mom to the doctor, maybe find her some medication.

  ‘I bet it’s hard keeping a straight face with those guys,’ Crystal added, rummaging in her purse. She pulled out a compact mirror and makeup bag. ‘They think they’re such big-shots, walking around town with their badges and guns. But hey, bet you get out of speeding tickets easy.’

  ‘I don’t know.’ I watched her apply another layer of liner, smudging the kohl black around her eyes. ‘I never tried.’

  ‘You should. Minimum wage is shitty enough, you’ve got to take the perks where you can.’ Crystal looked up at me and cocked her head. ‘You should wear lipstick sometime, stop you looking all washed out.’

  From any other girl, it would have been a catty insult, but Crystal sounded friendlier than I’d ever heard before.

  I propped the broom against the wall and slid into the booth. Crystal passed me a lipstick. ‘Try this one.’

  I thought a moment about hygiene, then immediately felt bad about it. The shade was a deep pink, one I’d never buy for myself. I never really wore much makeup, aside from a dab of lipgloss and mascara sometimes, but watching Crystal carefully paint her face, I saw that it was more than vanity. A mask, taking her normal expression and making it bold and edgy.

  ‘You ever think about leaving?’ I asked curiously. ‘Or do you think you’ll settle here for good?’

  ‘Are you kidding?’ Crystal snorted. ‘I can’t wait to get the hell out of this place. The day I get enough saved, I’m gone.’

  ‘Where will you go?’ I asked.

  ‘Anywhere but here. I don’t know, LA maybe?’

  ‘Sunshine and palm trees.’ I thought of the postcards my dad sent, back when he was pretending to care at all.

  ‘Sounds good to me. I figure, another six months maybe, then I’ll have enough.’ Determination skittered across her face. ‘Even if I don’t, I’m getting out of here, I don’t care if I have to hitch-hike the whole way.’

  I knew how she felt, but my baggage wasn’t so easily hauled around.

  I finished the lipstick and looked at myself in the mirror. It was different. Bold.

  ‘Hot.’ Crystal nodded with approval. ‘Your guy will flip. You’re still with that Ethan guy, right?’

  I nodded.

  ‘And he’s got a brother too, what’s his name?’

  ‘Oliver.’ I blinked. ‘How do you know him?’

  ‘Saw him around at some bar. Good genes in that family.’ She waggled her eyebrows suggestively and I had to smile.

  ‘Pretty good,’ I agreed.

  Crystal’s phone sounded with a message. She checked it and rose to her feet.

  ‘Your ride’s here?’ I asked, feeling a pang of disappointment.

  ‘On his way. You know, you guys should come to this party tonight,’ she suggested, ‘Out at the McNally farm, you know, past the highway? Just a kegger, the usual crowd, but it should be fun.’

  ‘I don’t know . . . ’ I demurred, thinking of the beer and smoke, and the guys who worked out at the quarry: stained ball-caps and plaid shirts. ‘It’s not really my scene.’

  ‘Swing by, check it out,’ she pressed.

  I shook my head. ‘No, thanks. I don’t think so.’

  Crystal looked amused. ‘You know, you should quit pretending like you’re above it all. You’re not better than us, not any more. High school’s long gone. We’re all the same now.’ She gave me a rueful shrug and then walked away, the door closing behind her with a jangle.

  When I arrived at the precinct for work the next morning, something was wrong, I could tell. The main floor was hushed, the phones ringing, unanswered, while the deputies clustered in a tight knot by the coffee machine. They were eying the back interview room, talking in low voices.

  ‘What happened?’ I slung my jacket over my chair and walked over. ‘Anyone going to pick up a call?’

  One of the deputies looked up. ‘You didn’t hear?’

  ‘Hear about what?’ I started to pour myself a cup of coffee.

  ‘There was a crash last night, out past the highway.’

  I stopped, remembering the last time it happened, the sad wilted flowers on the side of the road. For weeks, I’d been filing paperwork about parking tickets and land disputes, but this was real. ‘Is everyone alright?’ I asked.

  He shook his head. ‘It was Blake, riding with some girl. He’s real shaken up. Sheriff’s interviewing him now.’

  I looked over to the closed door.

  ‘I don’t know why they’ve got him in there like some criminal.’ One of the other guys spoke up. ‘I bet it was her fault all along. Everyone knows those roads are dangerous.’

  ‘Chief’s just doing his job,’ another argued.

  ‘But Blake’s one of us, it’s not right.’

  The phone started ringing again, and I could see the switchboard at my desk lit up on every line. ‘I’d better get that,’ I told them, backing away. They shrugged, turning back to the coffee machine.

  ‘Hello, sheriff’s depart—’ I barely got the words out before the voice on the other end of the line started demanding answers. What had happened? Was Blake driving drunk on duty? Were we pressing charges? A concerned citizen, they needed to know. I put her on hold, but the other lines were the same, all morning.

  I scribbled the messages and then headed back.
The interview-room door was shut, but I could hear voices inside, Blake, muffled but angry. ‘I wasn’t drunk, it was just a couple of beers. It was the ice!’

  ‘You blew point zero nine,’ Weber’s voice came. ‘Kid, I’m trying to help you here.’

  ‘Come on, Weber.’ Another voice spoke up. ‘That breathalizer was a joke. Your guy here couldn’t administer one to save his life.’

  I cautiously tapped on the door.

  ‘Yes?’ Weber’s voice came.

  I pushed it open. He was sitting across from Blake and a man in a sharp-looking suit. Blake looked like hell, slouched in his seat in an oversized sweatshirt, red-eyed, like he’d been crying all night.

  ‘I’m sorry, but the phones won’t stop.’ I waved the messages. ‘And there’s a guy from the District Attorney’s office on the line too . . . ’

  ‘Already?’ Weber hit pause on the recorder on the desk. ‘OK, we’ll take a break for now.’

  ‘Actually, I think we’re done here.’ The man in the suit stood up and nodded for Blake to follow.

  ‘Now, wait a minute . . . ’ Weber protested, but the man just took out a business card.

  ‘Either charge him, or call to set up another interview. Come on, Blake.’ He steered him out.

  Weber watched them go, clearly frustrated, but saying nothing.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ I lingered in the doorway, feeling awkward. ‘I can come back.’

  ‘No, it’s fine.’ Weber waved me in, so I brought him the batch of messages. He stared at them, sighing. ‘What a goddamn mess.’

  ‘What happened?’ I asked, cautious.

  ‘A party out at the McNally farm,’ he sighs. ‘There was a keg, kids blowing off some steam, then Blake’s car winds up wrapped around a tree. He had his belt on, but the girl . . . ’ Weber stopped and gave a slow shake of his head. It wasn’t good.

  ‘So what happens now?’ I asked.

  ‘Who knows?’ Weber stared at the stack of messages. ‘He wasn’t on duty. I can suspend him, book him for reckless driving, try to get the DUI to stick . . . But they’ve got that lawyer from the city now.’ He shook his head too, looking regretful. ‘He’s a good kid, too. Good family.’

  I turned to leave him, but something stopped me. The one thing nobody had mentioned all morning. ‘Who was the girl?’ I asked quietly.

  He looked up blankly.

  ‘The girl, the one who got hurt. Is she from here?’

  Weber nodded. ‘Crystal Keller. Doctors say it doesn’t look good.’

  I called the hospital for an update. The nurse wouldn’t talk, but when I said I was from the sheriff’s department, she relented. There was no change. Head trauma, blood loss. Crystal was in a coma.

  I sat behind the front desk, frozen, and thought back to last night: doing makeup in the diner, and the look on Crystal’s face when she talked about getting to California someday. She’d been kind to even invite me to that party, a brief flash of friendship in my lonely day. It was only a few hours ago; a few drinks, a few hairpin curves in the road.

  They didn’t know if she would wake up.

  It felt wrong for the world to somehow keep spinning, but it did. The deputies needed their lunch orders phoned in; people came to complain about parking tickets and the neighbour’s overflowing trash. In the end, it was almost a relief that the calls kept coming, occupying my thoughts. By afternoon the calls had slowed, and I had time to even think again, snatching time for a sandwich at my desk.

  The front doors swung open. I braced myself for a parent or pissed-off deputy, but instead, it was a familiar face.

  Oliver.

  I tensed. ‘What do you want?’ I asked, putting down my lunch.

  He sauntered closer. I hadn’t seen him in a week; he was cleanly-shaven and had a haircut now, but was wearing the same outfit as before: slim-cut dark jeans and a white shirt under his coat, blonde hair falling over his angular face. He hugged his arms around himself, exaggerating a shiver. ‘Brrr. Is it just the icy reception, or is it cold in here?’

  I paused. I’d been the one to overreact before, making a scene out of nothing. And besides, he was Ethan’s brother. I pasted on a smile. ‘Sorry, it’s been a weird day. Can I help you with anything?’

  ‘Yes, you can.’ Oliver planted his hands on the front desk and smiled across at me. ‘I came to make amends.’

  I blinked, surprised. ‘You did?’

  ‘Ethan explained about how much stress you’re under,’ Oliver’s eyes swept around the room, taking it all in. ‘He wants us to be friends, so I’m here to let bygones be bygones. What do you say?’

  He turned back to me and gave a wide smile, but it wasn’t open and guileless like Ethan’s; there was something more, almost amusement in his eyes.

  ‘Sure,’ I said slowly. ‘We’re fine. No problem.’

  ‘Good. Then let me take you out for a drink,’ Oliver announced.

  I paused. ‘I’m underage,’ I said carefully.

  ‘You can drink things other than alcohol, can’t you?’ Oliver’s lips quirked at the edges. ‘Coffee, tea, a nice refreshing lemonade . . . What time do you get off work? We can drive into town, have some dinner even.’

  I stared at him, thrown. It sounded like he was asking me out on a date. But of course, that was impossible. My mind raced. ‘Sure,’ I replied at last, deciding to act oblivious. ‘Sounds good. Ethan’s picking me up, so we can all go together.’

  Oliver looked amused. ‘That’s not exactly what I had in mind.’

  ‘Oh?’ I made my eyes wide and confused, tidying some paperwork on the desk. ‘What did you mean?’

  Oliver’s hand shot out suddenly, grabbing mine. I froze, shocked at the touch. He was studying me, those blue eyes narrowed and quizzical.

  ‘You shouldn’t play dumb,’ he murmured. ‘You’re better than that.’

  I stared back, my heart racing. Then he slowly released my hand.

  ‘Another time then.’ He smiled, nodding. ‘Tell baby brother I said hi.’

  I watched him saunter out, still reeling. What had just happened made no sense: for him to ask me out like that, and then . . . ?

  You’re better than that.

  I cradled my hand to my chest, still feeling where he’d held it. I stood there, dazed, until the phone started ringing again and I went back to work, but all afternoon I couldn’t shake the memory of him watching me, his lips curled in that curious smile: as if he was in on a private joke.

  As if he knew something about me I didn’t.

  I was still on edge when Ethan picked me up from my house after work. I’d deliberated over telling him about Oliver, but any way I framed it, it all came together wrong. He’d come to apologize and invite me for a friendly drink – on the surface, it was all too innocent to matter.

  Better not to say anything at all.

  ‘You hear about the crash?’ Ethan asked, right away. ‘Did you know her – Crystal?’

  ‘No, not really. It’s been non-stop at the office,’ I said quickly. ‘Can we just not talk about it?’

  ‘Oh.’ Ethan paused. ‘Sure, whatever. Want to go back to mine?’ He leaned over to kiss me.

  I shook my head. Oliver was the last person I wanted to see. ‘No, it’s too crowded there. Let’s go somewhere we can be alone.’

  Ethan grinned. ‘I like the sound of that.’

  He drove us out past town, around the lake to his dad’s construction site. Our headlights cut through the dark woods, the trees bare now, the ground littered with dead damp leaves.

  I wondered if Crystal had driven on these roads. If she’d seen it coming. If she’d been scared at all.

  I’d thought about stopping by the hospital, but I knew I’d just be in the way. I wasn’t close friends with her, after all, and it would be wrong to linger there as if my concern was any use at all.

  ‘. . . Chloe?’

  ‘What?’ I snapped my head around. Ethan was waiting on me.

  ‘I said, did you hear anything back about
those classes?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ I shook away the darkness. ‘I signed up for a couple of credits. English and modern history.’

  ‘What? That’s awesome!’ Ethan exclaimed. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘I . . . I forgot.’ I shrugged. ‘I’ll start next week, it’s not a big deal.’

  ‘It is to me.’ Ethan reached across and took my hand, bringing it to his lips. ‘I got a good one.’ He smiled. ‘Pretty and smart.’

  Soon, we were turning on to the construction site, the security lights set up around the buildings, pale in the night. Ethan helped me down from the truck and across the muddy ground to the bare bones of the development. I’d seen it before, back when it was all bare ground and wire markers, but now it was taking shape: the foundations laid, concrete blocks, with steel girders and wooden beams making the framework of the houses.

  ‘They’re going to look so good when they’re done.’ Ethan used a flashlight to guide us past the construction. ‘I want a place like this one day. Imagine, drinking your morning coffee, looking out over the lake.’ He grinned over at me, and I wondered if I was in that picture with him.

  ‘You see yourself living here then?’ I asked. ‘For good, I mean.’

  ‘Here, or someplace like it.’ Ethan nodded. ‘Small, friendly. Someplace you can get to know your neighbours, you know. A good place to raise kids.’

  He smiled at me again and I thought I saw a flash of hope in his eyes. Did he see me in his future? Did I want to be there?

  I shook off the thought, following him to the cabin they were using as a base camp for the construction. Inside, there were lights and an electric heater. Ethan spread the blanket he’d brought on the floor, and we settled in the corner, huddled close to keep warm. ‘I know how to show a girl a good time,’ Ethan joked, pulling me closer for a kiss.

  I smiled and kissed him back, trying to lose myself in his warmth and the feel of his body under mine. Usually, I could count on him making the world go away, but something wasn’t right. I felt a restless ache that wouldn’t quiet, not for all Ethan’s sweet kisses and grasping touch.