by Alison Ryan
“When he’s too drunk to drive himself?” I asked.
They both stared at me.
“Yeah, something like that,” Rhiannon’s cheeks reddened.
“Rhiannon,” I said, wrapping my arm around her, “We already have something in common. I drove all the way through New Mexico on my way here. My mom is a wreck.”
Rhiannon looked at me and laughed, “Alright, Addie. I like you already.”
Nothing bonds teenagers more than the realization that they have the same problems.
Kyle Joel is the party kid of Rutledgeville.
“Not that this says much,” explained McKenna as we slowly drove down a rural back road, “In the Rut there’s not much to do. A party here is a keg and something set on fire.”
“It’s too hot for a bonfire so he’s barbecuing the venison that’s been sitting in his freezer all winter,” added Rhiannon as she made a left onto yet another dark rural road.
“Venison?” I ask.
They both look at one another and laugh, “Deer meat. You never had it?”
“No,” I admit. “I haven’t. Is it good?”
“Eh,” said McKenna. “It’s whatever. It tastes like the Rut so I am not a huge fan.”
We sat in silence for a couple minutes while a No Doubt song played.
“So this Kyle Joel guy? You like him?” I asked from the back seat.
Rhiannon giggled, “She’s obsessed with him. I personally think he’s a dick.”
McKenna scrunched her nose and lightly smacked Rhiannon on her arm, “I am not obsessed. I’m intrigued. There’s a difference. And I don’t know why you think he’s a dick.”
Rhiannon shrugged, “He gives me a vibe. A dick vibe. And what’s so intriguing about him? There’s no mystery there. Kyle Joel likes football, beer, and killing his own food. He also likes to refer to girls as ‘bitches’ and says things like ‘Rock out with your cock out.’ Seriously. He’s such a-”
“Dick.” I finish her sentence and we both laugh. McKenna pouts in the passenger seat.
“Y’all don’t know him. He’s more complicated than that. He just doesn’t show it to everyone.”
After about fifteen minutes of slowly driving through unpaved roads, we reached a long ranch style brick house surrounded by acres of flat land. Part of it looked like it might have once been used for crops but it was hard to tell now that it was dark. A rusty John Deere was slumped next to a Camaro in the driveway.
“Bode is here,” said McKenna, “Addie, he might be for you. He’s an ass guy.”
I knew my face was red, “Uh, ok.”
McKenna turned to look at me, “That’s a compliment, girl. You rocked those shorts for a reason. It’s summer time! It’s okay to be a little sexy.”
“Oh, I think Ryan is coming with Jackson,” said Rhiannon as she shut the driver’s side door, “Rachel broke up with him before she left for New York.”
McKenna nodded, “Yeah, I heard. What a bitch. But that’s Rachel. I bet Ryan gets completely shit-faced tonight.”
“Ryan? Rachel?” I asked.
“Ryan Kidson. King of the Rut himself. Rachel Lawson, his queen. I fondly call her the Wrath of the Rut because she’s possibly the most horrible human being I’ve ever known. But she’s also completely beautiful, I will begrudgingly admit. She left to go to ‘modeling camp’ up in New York. Whatever,” explained McKenna.
“So she broke up with the king?” I said as I adjusted the strap of my tank top.
“She did,” continued McKenna, “She said she wanted to be free for the summer. That she would be meeting important people and she wanted to be free of any restraints. Which is just a nice way of saying she wants to blow an agent if she needs to, without feeling guilty.”
“Damn, McKenna,” Rhiannon shakes her head, “The hate is real.”
McKenna looked at Rhiannon, “Well. You know why. But that’s a whole other story. One not to be recited tonight! Because beer! And boys! Let’s do this, ladies.”
The first time I meet Kyle Joel he is throwing slabs of deer carcass over scary, open flames that seem to reach to the clouds over us. The heat can be felt from yards away.
“Hey, y’all!” he calls. He’s got a beer bottle in one hand and what looks like a pitch fork in the other, as he turns over meat. He is shirtless. That part, admittedly, is not so terrible a thing. I can see why McKenna might be a little intrigued.
“Hey, Kyle,” McKenna says but she doesn’t move toward him. The heat is too much. He glances at her and his eyes get huge.
“Damn, girl,” he says, “You are lookin’ fine as hell.”
Kyle Joel is not subtle.
McKenna is gorgeous though. She’s got her long blond hair half up and half down in that effortless way that only the prettiest girls seem to know the secret to achieving. She has a form-fitting blue tank top on with a push up bra underneath. Her jean skirt is short but not obscenely so. She has great legs. Tan with muscular calves, but not too muscular. Converse low tops with no socks on her (probably beautiful) feet to make it seem casual. McKenna is pretty much perfect. I suddenly understand the meaning behind the term wallflower. Next to McKenna, I am one.
“That’s sweet,” she croons, “But I think we’re going to go sit by the house. It’s a little heated over here.”
“Sure. Bode was able to score some brew. It’s over in the coolers near the back steps.”
“Thanks.”
We walk over to the back of the house just as a Jeep Wrangler pulls up.
“Jackson!” Rhiannon says. She says it in a way that makes me think that Jackson might be her Kyle Joel.
The driver, who I can only assume is Jackson, jumps out and when he spots us a huge smile appears on his face. Jackson is tall but stocky. He has kind eyes and a short, cropped hair cut.
“Hey, ladies,” he says, “Hi, Rhiannon. You look really nice.”
As the two of them make googly eyes at each other, another boy gets out of the Jeep.
And my heart stops. It stops and drops right to my Birkenstocks.
This boy moves in slow motion, like a bad romance movie that I can’t help but love. He has blond hair that hangs in his face. He immediately does this thing where he slightly turns his head to get it out of his eyes. I suspect they’re blue but I can’t really tell. It just seems that would go perfect. He’s also tall, even taller than Jackson, and he’s got broad, tan shoulders. He’s wearing a basketball jersey and basketball shorts, neither of which match. He’s curiously barefoot.
I feel like I’ve been shot in the gut. I realize I can’t make anyone aware of this feeling. So I try to be cool. Inside I am dying. Whoever he is, he’s the best looking boy I have ever seen in person.
“So Ryan did come,” McKenna says as she hands me something cold. It’s a beer. She has somehow obtained a bottle opener and pops off both our beer tops.
“Oh. That’s Ryan Kidson,” I try to sound nonchalant.
“Yep,” she looks at me looking at him. I am bad at hiding this feeling.
“Addie. Don’t even think about it. Don’t even consider it.”
I snap out of my trance and look at her, “I wasn’t. I wouldn’t. But why? He doesn’t have a girlfriend.”
McKenna takes a sip, “It’s a bad idea, Addie. Just trust me.”
Ryan approaches us looking like someone just hit his dog. He doesn’t even take notice of us until McKenna says hello.
“Oh. Sorry, McKenna. How are you?” His voice is deep for a high school kid. He offers a kind of half smile.
“I’m ok. How are you holding up?” She reaches over to the cooler, hands him a beer and the bottle opener.
“You know. I’m ok. A little tired,” he suddenly notices me.
I know it’s cheesy but the first time our eyes meet I kind of understand why romance novels are the best-selling genre of books. I understand why people write love songs. I figure out the purpose of life is to find someone I can feel this way about and somehow convince them to fee
l the same way about me. I can’t explain it, I can only give you clichés. There are no words in existence to explain how I feel about Ryan Kidson noticing me.
And his eyes are definitely blue.
“Hi, I’m Ryan,” he says putting out his hand, “I don’t mean to be so rude.”
I somehow am able to convince my hand to reach out and shake his. His palm is slightly calloused and sweaty.
“I’m Addie.” I don’t even know how I was able to say it.
His eyes suddenly light up with recognition, “You’re Mrs. McCurtis’s granddaughter!”
I’m surprised. All of a sudden this boy (I want to call him a man. He isn’t built anything like a boy) pulls me over into an embrace. My heart is pounding.
“I am so sorry about your grandma,” he says into my hair, “She is truly the best. I just feel really bad about it.” He lets go of me as I try to catch my breath. A lot is happening.
“Ryan is affectionate when he’s drunk,” says McKenna.
Ryan laughs good-naturedly, “Sorry, Addie. My mom and I visit your grandma every week. I cut her grass and my mom brings her food and her mail. She told me last week you were coming. She was so happy. I think you’re her favorite person in the world. She talks about you so much. Sorry if that was forward to hug you like that.”
“Oh, no, that’s ok,” I say. I want him to do it again. Should I mention my granddaddy died five years ago?
McKenna senses it and says, “So let’s eat some deer meat. So we can drink more. I think we all need to drink tonight.”
Venison is actually pretty tasty. We eat it on hamburger rolls while we sit in plastic beach chairs in the front yard. The sky is full of stars and while it’s warm, it’s not uncomfortable. I’ve had three beers and my head feels good, like it’s filled with cotton. Ryan sits directly across from me. He’s had half a dozen beers and shows no signs of stopping.
To my left McKenna and Kyle share a beach lounge chair. He sits behind her and she lays between his legs, her head resting on his chest. She has a love drunk smile on. Kyle has put a shirt on. It has some NASCAR driver on it. He speaks loudly to the group but I can’t hear him. Or at least, I don’t care what he’s saying. I want to hear Ryan again.
To my right is Bode Hinton. Our chairs are close together (McKenna’s plotting) but we haven’t spoken much. Bode is small and wiry. He has a camo ball cap on with a fishing hook stuck in the brim. He has a squirrelly face and a nasally voice. All he likes to talk about is how he is so good at scoring alcohol.
Across from us next to Ryan are Rhiannon and Jackson. They sit side by side on a lounge chair with paper plates balanced on their knees. They are speaking softly and I can’t hear what they’re saying. I feel like I’m witnessing something special, seeing them together. I’ve known Rhiannon only a couple hours but I know I want to know her the rest of my life. But that could be the beer talking. It seems to make immediate intimacy ok.
Rhiannon doesn’t drink so she takes us home around midnight. Before we leave Kyle’s I have one more conversation with Ryan.
“So, Addie, I actually think I’m coming over to your place tomorrow to cut the grass. Will you be around?” He asks as we dump our empty bottles in a black trash bag hanging off the doorknob of the back door.
“Yeah. For sure. I mean, I definitely should be.” I’m very bad at talking tonight.
“Cool. So I’ll see you tomorrow.” He gives me a side hug. I don’t know what to do with my arm so I just kind of let it squish between us. I am the most awkward idiot on the planet.
McKenna makes out with Kyle for a couple minutes before we leave. It’s awkward to stand and wait for someone to be done kissing. Rhiannon finally says, “Your mom needs us home like twenty minutes ago, McKenna!”
We pile into the Big Rhoda, put the windows down and the radio up. McKenna crawls into the back with me through the front even though it’s a four door. She is the drunkest of the two of us.
“Addie McCurtis, I am so glad you’re here!” she wraps her arms around me. We both smell like cheap beer and gamey meat.
“I’m glad to be here! It was good to get out.”
“Right? Although, I know you like Ryan and you can’t. But you can like Bode? What about Bode?”
“Bode is not for me,” I say, “He wouldn’t be for me even if I hadn’t seen Ryan.”
“I told you she wouldn’t like Bode!” Rhiannon says from the front, “No one ever likes poor Bode.”
McKenna cackles, “I know. I always try. He wants a girlfriend so bad. But Addie is way out of his league.”
I am surprised at this, “I am? I have never considered myself to be out of anyone’s league.”
McKenna lays across my lap, “Addie, you are a beautiful creature. None of these Rut guys are even in your universe. You are exquisite.”
We both laugh, “You are really wasted,” I reply and McKenna just nods, “I am. But didn’t you ever hear? Alcohol is a truth serum. So you know I speak the truth.”
When we get home McKenna is almost passed out so Rhiannon and I quietly carry her to the back porch.
“Are her parents waiting up for her?” I whisper.
Rhiannon shakes her head, “When she’s with me they know she’s ok. So they usually go to bed. But just in case we always say we’re having a sleepover on the porch. As long as we’re home around midnight, they don’t mind. The Holts are good people.”
We quietly open the screen door. Two folding cots lay out on the porch with sheets and pillows.
“See,” said Rhiannon, “Mrs. Holt did that. Sorry she didn’t have a third. She said she will get one for next time.”
“That’s ok,” I reply,” I should be home. Make sure everything is ok.”
Rhiannon pulls a sheet over McKenna, “I’ll walk you home.”
“But then who will walk you back?” I ask.
Rhiannon laughs quietly, “I’m not the one who drank five beers.”
“Touche.”
We tread through the woods. The moon lights our way.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Rhiannon says as we enter my yard, “McKenna has had a tough time this year. It’s nice to have another friend to lean on.”
“What happened?”
“I’ll let her tell you one of these days. It’s a lot and it’s her story to tell.”
I nod, “Ok. Well, thanks for driving us. You’re pretty good.”
“I’ve been doing it since I was thirteen. My sister taught me but then she got pregnant and moved away so now I am the main designated one.”
We stand quietly for a moment.
“My mom drinks a lot,” I confess, “More than she should. Especially now that my grandma is sick. I have a feeling I am going to spend a lot of my summer taking care of her. And it sucks.”
“I know. And when I say ‘I know’, I mean it. I know so much how you feel.”
It was probably the beer left in my system but at that moment I hugged her. It just felt like the right thing.
“I better head back,” she says as I pull away, “I have a feeling McKenna is going to have a pukey night. She drank beer and some of Kyle’s weird moonshine.”
And with that she is back in the woods and I am alone.
Before I walk in the house I notice that the LeBaron is gone. A note is left on the front door:
She’s been sleeping since 7 so I went out for a quick bit. Don’t wait up.
I tear it off the door and walk in. The house sits silent. I can hear box fans whirling in the living room and go in to turn them off. I’m angry that my mother would leave Grandma alone in the middle of the night. I would never have left the house had I known Aunt Shayla wouldn’t be here. My guess is that Mom convinced her to leave so she could sneak out. It was hard to remember who the teenager in this house was.
I walked up to Grandma’s room. Her door sits slightly ajar. She lays on her side facing the French doors that open out onto the second story porch. I am relieved to see her chest rising and falli
ng and to hear the sound of a faint snore. The basin next to her bed for when she gets sick is empty. I walk softly back out and close the door enough to leave just a crack so I can hear her from my room.
It’s late but I am wide awake. There is so much that happened tonight, so much to think about. Ryan Kidson. This feeling I have, I had never thought it was an actual thing. You read about it, you see it in movies. I chalked it up to marketing and romantic idealism. It was a false emotion used to sell things. But I couldn’t deny it. I was infatuated. Nothing else could fit in my head but the thought of him. Even my Grandma being sick had left me for a little while, something I thought would be impossible. I felt a little guilty about this.
Why was McKenna so against me liking him? I knew it wasn’t a jealousy thing. For one thing, she seemed pretty smitten with Kyle Joel. And for another thing, there were probably like five people in the entire world for McKenna to be jealous of. She was the dream girl. So what could it be? It was something I would ask her about later. That night I would eventually drift asleep to the thought of him embracing me. I could still feel his hard shoulder against my head. His hands on my back, taking me in. Accepting me, whomever I might turn out to be.
7
The next morning I woke up to arguing going on outside.
I rushed downstairs forgetting I was only in a t-shirt and underwear. Grandma sat propped up on the couch looking out the front window.
“Good morning, angel,” she said, sipping out of a mug I sent her for her birthday five years ago.
“Who is that yelling?”
Grandma nodded towards the window and I saw Aunt Shayla and Mom jumping around animatedly. Aunt Shayla was pointing to the front of Mom’s car. As she became more animated I could see what the fuss was about. The front of the LeBaron was completely crunched. Rage rises in me.
“Mom wrecked our car?” I said.
“It looks like it,” sighed Grandma. “Shayla found her this morning passed out in the front seat with the engine still running.”
