No Place to Fall

by Jaye Robin Brown

  I hand her the clear plastic box of thumbtacks and watch as she fishes one out. Red.

  “Here.” C.A. sticks the tack directly on Winston-Salem. “Let’s go talk to your mama.”

  One whole piece of spice cake in, and C.A. and I still haven’t convinced Mama of anything.

  Mama settles deeper into her kitchen chair and sighs. “I don’t understand why in the world you would want to bother with an audition. Amber, sugar, you know I’d be irresponsible if I let you run off to school in some big city. You’re only sixteen.”

  C.A. smiles and says, “Mrs. Vaughn, this is the best cake I’ve ever eaten in my life. May I please have another slice?”

  Mama eases the knife through the moist cake, creamy frosting wrinkling on the blade.

  C.A. starts talking fast. “Mrs. Vaughn, an audition is great for self-esteem, and Amber, you know with her joining chorus and all, may just earn a solo. And then she’ll have to sing in front of all of Sevenmile, because you know how everyone comes out for those things. If she can get through the pressure of a closed-door audition in front of people who really know their stuff, well, she’ll be able to sing in front of anyone. Even Sevenmile’s finest.”

  Mama looks at her hands. “You say it’s in Boone?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” C.A. garbles through a mouthful of cake, licking her lips and moaning for effect.

  Mama’s smile is nervous, but it’s something else that spills from her eyes as she turns in my direction. “Well, I reckon I can take you, even though I’m not much of a driver.” She looks at C.A. again. “You think it will help my Amber shine?”

  C.A. chews, smiling with her mouth closed, and nods.

  I’m lost in Mama’s hopeful expression.

  Mama looks at the ceiling. “Oh Lord, help me drive to Boone.” Then she looks at me. “I’m only agreeing to the audition, sugar. Nothing more.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I know.”

  And I know something else now, too. That my singing, my asking about this audition, lit something up inside my mama. Something I haven’t seen on her face since Whitney was married, and Coby was born. Her face, for half a second, was proud. And it was because of me.

  I picture that second red tack on my map. Maybe red isn’t what I thought it had to be for at all. Maybe red is for love.

  C.A. goes crazy digging through Whitney’s old clothes and helps me pull together an outfit for the dance.

  Soft corduroy miniskirt, purple shirt with a draping neckline, perfectly worn cowboy boots. It’s not as sexy as some of the getups C.A. first suggested, but it’s more formfitting than the overalls and T-shirts I normally wear.

  C.A. steps back. “You dress up good, girl.”

  I look in the mirror and turn from side to side. Maybe I should give Whitney’s wardrobe another chance.

  C.A. has applied pink blush to my cheeks and lipstick to my puckered lips and black eyeliner to the tops of my eyes. I look like a lazy cat. A lazy, sexy cat.

  Whitney’s sitting at the kitchen table with Coby when we go downstairs. It looks like she’s been crying, but I don’t have time to stay to ask why. Her tears are usually about Sammy.

  I kiss Coby on the top of his head. “Bye, Mama, we’re going.”

  “Let me look at you.” Mama stands up from beside Whitney and holds me an arm’s length away from her, a hand on each shoulder. I see a flash of something like Oh, my baby’s growing up cross her face. “Simply beautiful.”

  “Thanks, Mama.”

  “Hey, nice clothes. Glad somebody can fit in them.” Whitney’s definitely upset about something.

  I stiffen and decide not to say anything. I look over at C.A.

  “What, you got your rich friend and now you’re too good for me?”

  I cringe, noticing the glaze over Whitney’s eyes. Please don’t let her make a scene.

  “Sorry, C.A. Come on.” I start walking toward the front door, torn between bursting into tears and shouting something ugly at my sister.

  “You can’t run away from me. Why the hell is everyone running away from me?” Whitney’s voice cracks. I hear one last comment before we’re out of the house. “You got a condom, Amber? You look like you might need one.”

  Mama fusses as the door shuts behind us. Oh my God. I can’t believe Whitney. Why would she do that to me?

  C.A. opens her car door and whispers at me over the roof of the Subaru. “Are you going to hook up with Sean?”

  “No!” I yank the passenger door open, wishing she hadn’t heard Whitney’s last barb.

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” I take a deep breath, willing my hands to stop shaking.

  C.A. has seven Hello Kitty charms hanging off her key ring. They jumble against one another as she starts the car.

  “Sorry about Whitney.” I hesitate. “I think she was high.” Might as well put it out there. It’s not like the whole town doesn’t know anyway.

  “Oh.” C.A. looks over at me, her eyes wide and head tilted in empathy.

  “That stuff she said, she didn’t really mean it. She used to be so fun. You would have liked her.” Something hollow settles in my chest when I think about how my memories of the old Whitney are getting as dull as the gray on C.A.’s car.

  “Yeah, I remember her from our freshman year. So, she got pregnant, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, I won’t let that happen.”

  “Me neither.” I start to relax.

  “So . . . are you going to hook up with Sean?” C.A. asks again as the car hits the pothole and we both rocket forward in our seats.

  “Watch out,” I say, too late, then, “I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?” C.A. asks me.

  I could share my secret, tell someone else about what happened with Will.

  But instead I say, “He’s just a friend, that’s all. Are you dating anybody?” I check my lipstick in the mirror.

  “There are a few senior guys I wouldn’t say no to.” She rattles off their names and I see their faces in my mind. Out of curiosity I ask her about Will.

  “Will McKinney? No. I’m not into the whole cooler-than-thou thing. And, he’s taken.”

  I’m torn between relief that C.A.’s not into him, the instinct to defend him, and the hard reality of Amber-o-zia.

  “What about Kush?” I ask. I need to get my mind off Will, and back to Devon’s favor.

  “Please. That guy is so insecure and out of his element. I mean, yeah, he’s gorgeous, but I think he may be like Devon.”

  I freeze. “What do you mean, like Devon?”

  “Devon’s totally gay.” C.A. smiles as we turn into the McKinneys’ driveway.

  She pushes my shoulder when we stop. “What? Did you think I didn’t know? Oh, don’t worry about it. I don’t care. Come on, let’s go inside.”

  “Wait.” I grab her arm.

  “Yeah?”

  “Devon asked me to ask you for a favor.”

  C.A. cocks her head and her long ponytail flips over her shoulder. “Now I’m curious.”

  “Devon wants you to kiss Kush to see if he’s straight.” Knowing C.A. is wise to Devon makes explaining easy.

  C.A.’s mouth slowly falls open. “He wants me to what?”

  “I know, I told him it was stupid, and you wouldn’t do it.”

  She flips down the rearview mirror and reapplies her lipstick. “It is stupid. But I’ll try, I guess.” She caps the lipstick. “But it’s only for Devon. Not because I’m into Kush. And only if it works out.”

  “Fair enough,” I say.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Will opens the door. “Look who’s here. Gorgeous junior girls!” He gives me a careful once-over and holds out his hand as if he wants to shake mine. “I don’t believe I know you.”

  “Stop it, Will McKinney.” C.A. pushes him aside.

  But he’s still checking me out, from my boots to my lined eyes. “I like ogling the Ambers,” he says, smiling.

  C.A. rolls her
eyes and pushes past him. I follow her, so I’m on her heels and Will’s on mine. I can feel the tension, an invisible cord tugging my body, Will on the other end. Even though I don’t want to like it, even though I shouldn’t like it, I do.

  The hall opens into the large family room at the back of the house. Kush and Devon are dancing in front of the big-screen TV, their hands above their heads doing some kind of cobra dance. Women in saris and men in turbans twirl in perfect Indian show-tune synchronicity to loud Bollywood music as the boys try to match their steps.

  C.A. whispers to me, “Um? I’m supposed to kiss that? Like that’s going to work.”

  She has got a point.

  Kush and Devon turn around at the same time. Kush immediately drops his hands, but Devon cobras over and dances around me in a circle. “Hey, Amber. Bollywood, baby! You look hot.”

  Kush is looking everywhere but at me or C.A.

  “You think?” I cobra my hands and bob my head back at Devon, handing him the pint jar of brandy I snuck out of the barn.

  He drops his hands and grabs my waist, jumping me around in a circle, before taking the jar. “Kush brought over all of his mom’s old Bollywood movies. They are freaking amazing!”

  C.A. interrupts us by placing her hands on our shoulders. “I’ll see y’all after the game, ’kay?”

  “Wait, you’re leaving?”

  She nods. “I told you, I could only stay for a minute. I meant that literally.”

  She leaves with a wave. I glance into the kitchen, but don’t see Sean.

  “Where’s Sean?” I ask Kush.

  “Helping my dad. He’ll be at the dance later.”

  Will throws himself across the couch. “Amber-o-zia ditched me for shopping.” He makes tear fists against his eyes.

  “And Kush and I aren’t going to the game,” Devon announces.

  I look from Will to Devon to Kush and back to Devon. “What? I thought this would be our Friday night.”

  “Amber. You know I hate football. I only like fútbol.” His accent would be cute if he weren’t trying to sound all sophisticated for Kush.

  Kush adds, “Yeah, I’m not that into it either.”

  “Are y’all at least coming to the dance later?” I hear the whine in my voice.

  “Sean and C.A. will be there. You won’t need us.” Devon’s face is sending me a million signals that all say the same thing. Just go and leave me and this cute boy alone.

  Fine, then. It’s not like we’ve spent almost every Friday night together since the beginning of high school. “Whatever.”

  Devon pouts.

  “I said fine. It’s okay.” I pat the pout off his cheeks.

  Then, when I think it can’t get any worse, Devon turns to his brother and asks,

  “Will, you can give Amber a ride, can’t you?”

  “So . . .” Will’s voice draws out the o as he turns his key in the ignition, the sports car roaring to life.

  “So?” I smooth my hands down the sides of my skirt, which is shorter than I remember it being when I got dressed.

  He turns on the stereo, and casually loops his arm over the back of my seat.

  “Will.”

  “Yes.”

  “Stop it.”

  “Haven’t started. Besides, I need to back down the driveway.” He pulls his hand away and shifts the car into reverse. “Seriously, though.” He glances at me, returning his arm to the back of my seat, his eyes wicked with mischief. “Don’t you want to kiss me?”

  “Will!”

  I may act outraged, but he’s right. I decide to not say anything else.

  Will’s voice breaks into my thoughts. “Going to be a wet night.” Fat raindrops hit the windshield, picking up time with the speed of the car. It’s already getting dark.

  “You think they’ll still play?”

  “Oh, they’ll play.”

  Great. I don’t have a raincoat or an umbrella.

  Will whistles a birdsong, then sighs. “I hate football games in the rain.”

  “Me, too. Actually, I pretty much hate them no matter what.” Against my better judgment, I ask, “Do you think people will be hanging out somewhere else?”

  Will’s face splits into a wide smile. “I thought you’d never ask.” He pulls over in the Self Suds car wash parking lot and turns to look at me. “Listen, don’t say no until you hear me out.”

  My stomach jumps.

  I watch a man pull into the wash bay. The end of his cigarette glows red through the windshield as he fumbles around, I guess looking for change.

  Will clears his throat. “Let’s go over the state line to Erwin and see some friends of mine for a couple of hours.”

  The burning end of the cigarette leaves red in my vision as I turn my head sharply toward Will’s face. “Erwin? Tennessee? Tonight?”

  When I said let’s go somewhere else, I was thinking Dash-n-Burger, somewhere other MHHS kids would be. People that would keep me from kissing Will or Will from kissing me. There are so many things wrong with this alternative. Mama, most of all. If she knew I was thinking of crossing the state line to go to some party, she’d have my hide. Rather, she’d have the audition I just got hold of.

  “Will, I can’t.”

  He pouts his full lips. “Oh, come on, please. Erwin. Forty minutes up. An hour there. Forty minutes back. We’ll be right in time for the dance. Nobody will know. And you’ll be doing me a favor, because I want you to come with me. Sean and C.A. won’t care if we miss the game.”

  Something dangerous streaks through my gut. Going to Erwin right now is bound to be an Even Worse Idea than just catching a ride with Will.

  The rain drums on the car roof. Football games are never canceled. But seriously, who wants to sit out in this?

  I watch the guy get out of his car and put quarters into the wash controller.

  “We’ll be back for the dance?” I ask, my eyes unmoving.

  “Cross my heart,” Will says.

  The hose surges to life and jumps out of the guy’s hand, dancing across the concrete. He races after it, doing a funny little hop and jump till he gets it in his hands. He turns toward our idling car, laughing, and then gives us the thumbs-up, like everything’s under control.

  I blow out a deep breath. “Well, I guess we better get going.”

  Will grins wide and turns the car onto the dark highway.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Will drives over the mountain. At the top, we pass the old WELCOME TO TENNESSEE sign. I’m humming along to the southern rock he has playing on the radio and wondering what it would be like to have a car and the freedom to go wherever you wanted. I close my eyes and imagine it’s me driving, not stopping, and going far away from Mama and Daddy, from Whitney and Sammy and the whole congregation of Evermore Fundamental.

  Will is probably headed to Chapel Hill next fall. He’ll find friends from all over, maybe pledge a fraternity, and probably end up in law school and be a lawyer or a judge like his dad. I open my eyes when I feel his hand on the gearshift hovering near my leg. “So, Not So Plain and Small, have you thought about me at all?”

  I push his hand away, but the warmth lingers. “Not at all.”

  “Not once?” He sounds incredulous.

  “Not once.” I cross my arms over my lap.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  I scoot toward the door. “Believe what you want, Will McKinney.”

  He grabs the gearshift. “Okay, then. I believe that you, Amber Vaughn, are an enlightened woman, far above the petty gossip of Mountain High and small mindedness, and that if you’d allow yourself, we might have fun together.”

  I let his words settle in. No rumors have gotten back to me. It doesn’t seem like Will’s talked to anybody. It would be nice to have his help for my audition, actually. Especially since he’s in chorus, too.

  I glance over. “Okay. Maybe I thought about you once.”

  He laughs and reaches over me, pulling his pipe out of the glove box. “Friday ni
ght lights?”

  “Will, that’s what you did last time. Got me stoned and . . .”

  Will shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut for just a second. “Fine then, put it away. I shouldn’t have it anyway. But if my memory serves me, you seemed to be enjoying yourself quite a bit that day.”

  I uncross my arms, confused by the hurt in Will’s voice. “Where are we going?”

  “To see friends.”

  He pulls onto the interstate and we drive past a few exits before winding into one of the trashed rental neighborhoods occupied by university students. In front of a brick ranch house surrounded by vacant wooded lots, Will parks his car behind an old Ford Explorer plastered with bumper stickers. A few other vans and cars are parked along the street. The sound of electric guitars and guys shouting escapes from the shaded windows.

  Will bangs on the front door and I stand behind him. The night is getting chilly. I wrap my arms around myself in a hug.

  A bearded guy a little older than us pulls the door open. “Dude.” He clobbers Will on the shoulder and gives me the once-over. “Is she cool?”

  “Yeah, man.” Will introduces me. “Amber, this is Sizz.”

  “Hi.” I raise my hand in a shy wave and peer past Will.

  There’s a band set up in the den. A bunch of college-aged guys and a couple of girls are gathered in small groups on couches and chairs or standing around a plywood stage. I hang back.

  Will steps behind me and puts a hand on each of my hips, steering me inside. When he loops one hand around my waist, I let it stay, nervous and excited in this room full of people I don’t know.

  Will leans in. “You want something to drink?”

  “Sure.” I let him guide me to the kitchen.

  He rummages in the fridge and emerges with two beers. If anyone smells alcohol on our breaths at the dance later, we’ll be suspended for sure, but one beer won’t hurt. I take the cold can from him.

  “What is this place?” I ask, looking around.

  “My friend Sizz’s house.”

  A tall, thin brunette around Whitney’s age slides into the kitchen and gives Will a look I’m not sure what to make of. “You singing tonight, baby boy?” She looks over at me. “Who’s your friend?”

  “Nicole. Amber. Amber, this is Sizz’s girlfriend.”