“Sure I am. It’s all right, though. Someday I’ll get the hell out of this town.”
He gave me an easy grin and reached around to pull my ponytail. I slapped at his hand and tried to smile back, but all I could think about was Rylen leaving town someday, and how much I hated that idea.
“So.” He gave my arm a slow-motion punch. “You’re finishing middle-school, huh? You’ll be at the high school with us next year.”
My shoulders rose and fell in a ‘no-big-deal’ shrug, though I was beyond excited. “You gonna let me ride to school with you guys or make me take the bus?”
“Me and you get the back seat. Tater can be our chauffeur.”
I laughed, imagining what Tater would have to say about that. Though Tater had different girlfriends every week, so he probably wouldn’t be alone in front. I imagined being in the back seat with Rylen, and I had to tighten my arms over my chest.
“Sun’s gone down,” Rylen said. “You cold?”
Nevada was funny like that. Hot as heck when the sun was out, then suddenly cold when it went down.
“Nah, I’m—”
“C’mere.” Rylen reached out and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me to his chest, resting his chin on my head as he ran his hands up and down my upper arms to warm me. Through his shirt I could smell his soap stronger now. The same smell that always wafted from the bathroom after he showered. I freaking loved that smell. Not to sound creepy, but I sometimes used his gel-soap too, just to smell him throughout the day.
The way Rylen held me, turning his face to put his cheek against my forehead now, made me feel like this was about more than just keeping me warm. Like he’d needed a loving touch. How long had it been since I’d hugged him? Since anyone hugged him? I slowly released my arms and let them slide around to his back. I tried to keep a little space between us, but Rylen pulled me to him and my boobs pressed against his chest. I held my breath at first, afraid I might hyperventilate at the sensation. I let my fingers splay out against his back, and then I scratched the spot right in the middle.
He gave a groan and kicked a leg, making me laugh.
“Ew!” came a kid’s voice from the doorway. “Are y’all gonna do it?”
Rylen broke away so fast I stumbled back a step. A round boy stood behind the screen door. Heat burst into my cheeks as I registered what the boy had said. I’d heard in school that Rylen’s aunt got her three kids back. This must be the fifth grader, Marcus.
“Don’t be disrespectful, Marc. This is my friend Amber.”
“Aaaamberrrr,” Marcus said, making kissing sounds and grotesquely circling his tongue.
A younger boy and a toddler girl pushed beside Marcus, staring out from the behind the screen. Man . . . they looked like they really needed baths. It hurt my heart.
Rylen made a move forward, like he wanted to teach his cousin a lesson, but I grabbed his arm. A man in a ratty T-shirt with long hair came to the door and pushed his way through the kids. He shuffled out and past us, ignoring us, boots kicking up dirt, and went to the side of the house. Then proceeded to stop and pee on the wall. Rylen turned away and closed his eyes, his jaw locking. The tiny girl came out in her bare feet, dirty nightgown dragging the ground. She came straight to Rylen, and he picked her up. She laid her head on his shoulder and stared at me through stringy locks of blond hair.
“Macy, this is Amber,” Rylen said. Macy stared at me silently. “How ‘bout I give you a bath tonight, Mace.” Still, she said nothing. Just clung to Ry and watched me carefully.
In that moment I had a flash of the future, of Rylen as a man holding our child in his arms. A flush of surprise and embarrassment ran through me. Were these the kind of thoughts other thirteen-year-old girls had when they looked at boys? Is this what Mom meant when she told me hormones would make me feel strange and confused sometimes?
“Who’s out there?” came a woman’s scratchy voice from inside.
Rylen locked his jaw and set down Macy. “Go on in. I’ll be there soon.”
“You should go,” Rylen whispered to me, but it was too late. His mom swung the screen door wide and let it clatter shut behind her. She sauntered down the cinder block steps with a red plastic cup in her hand, eyeing me. Mayella was curvy and probably killer-gorgeous in her prime. She swished bleached hair from her eyes and looked me up and down.
“Well, look at you. You’re growin’ up real nice, aren’t you Autumn?”
“Amber,” Rylen corrected.
“Hi, ma’am,” I said quietly.
“Don’t ma’am me. I ain’t that old.” She watched me over the rim of the cup as she drank.
Sir and Ma’am had nothing to do with age in our household. Military personnel and their families were just sort of conditioned to call everyone that.
She looked at Rylen. “You be careful, boy. Remember what I told you. Girls who think they’re better than you . . . they’ll eat you up and spit you out. You might be a catch right now . . .” She raised her cup and it sloshed. “Mr. Good-Looking Star Quarterback. But that ain’t gonna last.”
Rylen’s face tightened. “Yeah, Mama. Got it. And I’m not the quarter back no more.” He turned his head to look at me with blank eyes and said again, “You should go. I’ll be over once I get Macy to sleep.”
A huge, ratty knot formed in my stomach. I wanted to drag him away with me, but instead I nodded and gave his mom a nod good-bye too. Then I turned and jogged back into the potato field, all the way home to our manicured lawn, which looked and smelled more pristine than ever. Everything was wrong. I sat on the porch steps—the perfectly shaped and painted wood steps that I suddenly felt guilty to have. Mom peeked out the door at me.
“Why are you sitting out here in the dark? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
I wrapped my arms around myself, jumbled up inside. Behind me, I barely registered Mom tossing out my jacket and me sliding my arms in. An hour and a half passed before I saw Rylen’s shadowy figure trudging through the field toward me. When he got closer, he stopped and surveyed me a few seconds, then came and joined me, sitting by my side in silence.
“I don’t think I’m better than you,” I finally whispered. “I would never think that.”
He pulled his earlobe, a nervous gesture. “She wasn’t talking about you.”
She clearly had been. Hadn’t she? If not me, then what other girls was she talking about? Rylen didn’t have a girlfriend. Never had, that I knew of. There were always girls flanking him. Maybe she was talking about all girls, in general. I wanted to tell him she was wrong, but I didn’t want to make him more uncomfortable.
“Who was that man?” I asked.
“Don’t know. There’s always men in and out of the house.” He turned his head away and I couldn’t see his expression. Rylen always seemed strong, but he had to be hurting inside. I slid my hand into the crook of his arm and leaned against him.
A whoosh began in the distance, getting louder. Rylen looked up into the starlit sky. My grip on his arm tightened as a fighter jet zoomed over head, shaking the ground beneath us. Two more followed, filling my ears with their blasts of sound. Fighter jets flying low over our county was a normal occurrence, living so close to Nellis Air Force Base.
Rylen stared wistfully upward until it was silent again. He pulled his arm closer to his body, thereby pulling me closer too, and put his hand on top of mine. Together, we stayed like that a long time until Mom told us to come inside for bed.
Tater was brooding at dinner. Again. He kept shooting glares across the table at Rylen, who was surely aware, but chose to ignore him and take a third helping of tamales.
“Dude, the team needs you,” Tater said. “You took a whole year off already.”
“Jacob.” Dad leveled him with a hard look. “That’s enough.”
Abuela unwrapped another tamale and put it on Tater’s plate, covering it in her rich, dark mole sauce, then patted his hand. He sighed down at it.
Rylen said quietly
, “I’m sorry.”
Those two words seemed to blanket the dining room in thick sadness, because he truly did sound sorry. Regretful. Stuck.
“You don’t need to be sorry,” Mom told Rylen. “And just a heads up . . . we’ve got a surprise for you tonight.”
“What is it?” Tater asked with his mouth full.
“You’ll see.” She smiled and took a bite. We ate in silence, but a bit of the tension had seeped away and been replaced by curious excitement.
The silence was broken by three hard knocks on the door. We stared around at one another as Dad got up and opened it, and two sets of feet walked back in. A blast of air slid into my lungs. Lenard Fite filled the entrance, as large and bearded as ever. Rylen leapt from his chair and sprinted through the space. The two of them collided in a hard hug, burying their faces in each other’s necks, clinging with tight fists. Moisture crept into my eyes. I looked at Mom’s beaming face and realized this was the surprise.
“Are you out? For good?” Rylen asked.
“I’m out, son. And I ain’t going back.”
When Rylen and his father became aware of all of us watching, they broke away, looking down, bashful. We all stood to welcome Len back. He nodded, appearing uncomfortable with all the kindness. Then he addressed Rylen.
“Your mama and her sister don’t live at the house no more. It’s just you and me.”
Rylen squinted with worry. “Where’s Mom gonna live?”
“Movin’ in with her sister’s boyfriend, I guess. Not my concern.” Rylen opened his mouth, but his father took him by the shoulder. “You can still see her—I’m not gonna stop you, but she ain’t coming to my house no more. I know you been taking care of her and the house and the land, but that’s over now. You understand me?” Rylen stood very still while his dad spoke. “I’m proud o’ you, son, and you can still help out, but you’re gonna be a grown man soon enough. Right now you need to be a kid while you still can. And I need to be a man who gets to see his son play ball.”
The timing could not have been more perfect. Tater sniffed and lowered his head to wipe his nose. When he raised his head again I saw he was trying hard not to cry. I wanted to hug him and punch him at the same time.
Lenard looked between Mom and Dad. “Thank you for all you done. I’ll work to pay you back—”
“No,” Dad said. “That’s not necessary.”
“It’s been our pleasure.” Mom sniffled, sounding just like Tater. “He’s a good boy. We love him.” Rylen’s cheeks flushed pink.
Grandpa Tate stepped forward and introduced himself. Grandpa was shorter and leaner than Mr. Fite, but formidable enough in his personality that they might just get along well.
Abuela stepped up, tiny, but fearless. “You eat tamale?”
Lenard looked toward the dining room. “Uh, it smells mighty good, but I better not—”
“Okay.” She took him by the wrist as if he weren’t twice her size. “You eat.”
I covered my mouth, trying not to laugh as Lenard let himself be led. Rylen saw me and grinned. He looked so strong in that moment, so alive. Tater jumped high onto Rylen’s back and got him in a headlock. They tumbled to the ground, wrestling loudly.
“Boys,” called Mom. “Get in here and finish your food.”
They stood, shoving and smiling. And just like that, the strain between them vanished in that miraculous way of boy friendships. For the first time in a long time, I felt like everything was going to be okay.
I will never forget freshman year. I will never forget the deep, aching, longing—the need which could not be satisfied by anything less than his attention. I crushed so hard on Rylen Fite it wasn’t healthy. He made my heart and stomach and head dance and expand and twist. I’d become a straight-up mess for him, and only Remy knew. And Mom . . . but only because she was so observant. And Abuela, because those two had no secrets.
Sometimes I tried to pass Rylen in the hallway at school without saying anything, mostly because the senior guys and girls he and Tater hung out with were so intimidating. But he wasn’t having any of that. Ry would snatch me by the waist and spin me into his arms in a bear hug, lifting me off my feet and saying, “What, you can’t say hello?”
Sometimes Tater would chime in, tickling my waist with his crab-claw hands. He’d reach out for Remy, too, only to reel back at the viper gaze she reserved for him.
“Damn, why you always so salty?” he asked. She walked away with an eye roll and swish of her hips, and I punched Tater for staring at her butt.
I turned a corner where Remy awaited me, hip propped against the lockers with a grin, and I leaned my head back against the cool metal, feeling sensitive everywhere his hands had touched.
“You’ve got it bad, Amb.”
“Nope.”
“Like, bad bad. You should tell him—”
“No.” I spun to get in her face and show every ounce of horror that her words dredged up inside me. “I swear if you ever say a word, I’ll never speak to you again.”
Remy merely smiled at my psychotic threats. “What are you so afraid of? You’re gorgeous and he obviously cares about you.” She didn’t understand. She was never afraid when it came to boys. They made her nervous and excited, but when Remy set her goals on a guy there was no doubt she could have him. I’d never had that kind of confidence when it came to Rylen, and I doubted I ever would.
I was instantly popular by no means of my own. Every freshman girl wanted to be at my side when Rylen Fite and Jacob “Tater” Tate took notice of me and lavished me with silly attention, but Remy was my only trusted friend. We went together to all the games and traveled to districts and regionals, then onto state semi-finals where they narrowly lost. Colleges were in full recruit mode.
As acceptance letters and scholarship offers began to roll in for the boys that fall and winter, a sickening sense of finality and urgency began to fill me. They would be graduating soon. Leaving home. Which school would they choose? How far away would they go? How often would I get to see Rylen? Forget about Tater; I was sure however much I saw him would be plenty. But Ry . . . the thought of him living a life outside of here, outside of me . . . I had to make him realize before he left just how perfect we could be. What girl knew him better than me? None. And I wanted to keep it that way.
If only I knew how.
Tater and Rylen decided to attend the University of Nevada where they would play Wolf Pack football and do ROTC. Reno was nearly six hours away. Six hours. My heart ached just thinking about it. Tater wanted to join the Army as an officer, just as Rylen wanted to join the Air Force, despite Tater’s mocking about how wimpy the AF was.
“You’ll be on a stationary bike for boot camp while I’m working my ass off . . .” Blah, blah, military competitiveness, blah.
“I just wanna fly, man,” Rylen said. “And I’ll still be able to kick your ass.”
As always, the taunting led to a wrestling match wherever they happened to be.
Spring came, and baseball season was in full swing. Rylen acted a little weird around me sometimes. Nevada’s dry heat required lots of shorts and tank-tops in my wardrobe, but it seemed the more skin I showed the less he’d look at me. And all the while, boys my age circled like annoying gnats. I didn’t get it. When he came to our house, I had to throw on a hoodie just so he’d acknowledge me. Remy didn’t believe me until she came home with me after school one day and watched carefully, seeing it with her own eyes.
“That is weird,” she whispered to me in my bedroom. “He’s not normal.”
Maybe that’s why I liked him. “Maybe he’s just respectful,” I whispered back.
“I don’t even know how to advise you, Amb. I give up. May the force of weirdness be with you.” She gave me the Star Trek “V” with her fingers.
“Wrong fandom.”
“Whatev.”
Friday, May sixteenth, would forever stand out in my mind for not just one, but for two horrible reasons. It started with Rylen ringing my
cell phone after school, sounding kind of nervous.
“Hey, Pepper, you busy?”
I could have been busy with the most important task of my life and my answer still would have been, “No, what’s up?”
“Wanna come to the mall with me? I need your help with something.”
“Sure!” I cursed myself for sounding so excited.
He hesitated and mumbled, “You heard on the announcements today, right? About me and Tater being nominated for Prom King?”
“Yeah,” I said. My tummy started wobbling at the mention of prom. “That’s awesome.”
He groaned. “Not really. I hate that kind of stuff. But I feel like I have to go.”
“Okay . . .” Major tummy wobbling, like the kid on that old movie The Goonies doing the truffle-shuffle.
“Can you help me pick out a tux and stuff?”
“Of course!” Agh, again with the over-excitement. I took a deep breath. “Yeah.” No biggie.
“Okay, cool. Thanks. I’ll be over in fifteen minutes.”
We hung up and I ran for my room in a sprint. Mom followed me in, her arms crossed.
“What’s going on?”
I grabbed my makeup bag. “Rylen’s taking me to the mall so I can help him pick a tuxedo for prom.” I smashed the blush brush into the dark pink powder and crushed it against my cheekbone.
“Whoa, whoa.” Mom came forward and wiped my cheek with the back of her fingers in an upward stroke. She took the bag. “Let me.” In a flash she’d dabbed everything on. Just enough.
“Does he have a date?” she asked as she ran a hand through my hair. She tried to make it sound like an offhand question, but I could feel the heaviness of expectancy in her voice.
“I don’t think so.” It came out as a husky whisper.
Mom looked at me now. I could see excitement in her eyes, which fueled my own eagerness tenfold. I let out a little squeal.
“Don’t jump to conclusions, princesa.”
“I’m not.” I totally was.
She hugged me and sent me off to brush my teeth. Then reapply my lipstick.
Unknown (Unknown Series Book 1) Page 3
