Small Town Sinners (25 page)

“That’s between Ty and God,” Dad says. “I’m glad he’s seeking forgiveness, and I will happily be there for him should he need my counsel.”

“So why can’t I be there for him?” I ask. “What if he needs
my
counsel?”

“I’m sorry, Lacey,” Dad says. “But you’ve changed in these past few months. My little girl would never sneak out like you have, she would come to me with problems and talk to me about things that are going on in her life. You’ve become a mystery to your mom and me. You’ve been deceptive. And it all started with Ty’s arrival.”

“I’m sixteen,” I say. “I’m finding my way.”

And when I voice that, I know it’s true. And then it’s like I’m channeling the words to say to my father.

“You’ve raised me with God and the church and a huge network of community support: good people who saw me grow up, friends I’ve known since I could crawl, a safe small town to explore,” I say. “But you’ve also shown me the way all along—
your
way.”

Dad starts to interrupt me, but I use his hand trick and it works.

“It might be my way too,” I say, “but it might not be. I can’t go on being protected and sheltered from life. People I care about are in pain. I have to be able to make my own choices about how to respond and who to help. You should trust me to do that.”

Dad pauses, lost for words for a moment, and I think I’ve gotten to him.

“You’re very eloquent, Lacey,” he says.

“That’s from you too,” I say, chancing another smile.

He frowns. “Unfortunately, you’re also sixteen, you’ve been lying to us, and you’re just not emotionally equipped to deal with some of these things right now.”

I feel my heart cramp.
He doesn’t hear me. He doesn’t trust me.
I find myself wishing I hadn’t snuck out, wishing I’d just been honest with my parents all along. But they wouldn’t have let me spend time with Ty. I know they wouldn’t have. And I don’t regret that. It’s like I can’t win.

I’m so tired tonight, so emotionally drained. When Dad stands up and holds out his hand to me I take it, and join him on the walk upstairs.

“Good night, sweet daughter,” he says to me when we reach the landing. He kisses the top of my forehead. “We’ll let tonight go, okay?”

I look at him, and I realize he thinks he’s giving me a great gift. A pass. He won’t punish me for being out late with Ty, but he’s also banning me from being near him. Dad thinks it’s a fair trade.

“Good night,” I say.

I walk into my room and close the door. Then I lean against it and sink to the floor. What I said to Dad tonight may not have gotten through to him, but it rang very true within me. And I won’t abandon my friends when they need me.

Chapter Twenty-seven

The next day at school, I’m relieved to see Ty in a Carolina blue polo shirt, smiling and laughing as he walks down the hall. The news has spread, slowly and then rapidly, like a fire racing through a forest, by now—everyone knows about his accident. But I know he’s sorry. I know better than anyone.

I just hope Dean and Starla Joy can understand.

“So?” Dean says when I sit down in the courtyard for lunch. “Last night?”

Starla Joy stares at me intently.

I try to think of how I want to describe it, how I can convey the sympathy that I felt without sounding like a pushover. But I also don’t want to tell them everything—I don’t think Ty would like the crying part to get around.

“He was at a party, drinking,” I say. “His judgment was impaired and he drove his ex-girlfriend home. They hit a tree and she was hurt—a broken leg.”

Starla Joy shifts in her seat, but I ignore her.

“She’s okay now,” I continue. “Everything’s fine.”

The three of us are outside having lunch on campus. Dean’s mom packed a bag of carrot sticks and a Fiber One bar, so Starla Joy hands him half of her sandwich.

“You’re not upset that he kept that from us?” Starla Joy asks. “From you?”

“Of course I am,” I say. “But he’s asked for forgiveness and he’s here to start over—or start from the beginning again. He’s trying to do the right thing and be the person he really is.”

“I don’t get it,” Dean says. “You’re the girl who gets upset when I say ‘shit’ but you’re going to let Ty off the hook for keeping this secret?”

“Dean, don’t curse,” I say.

“I was making a point,” he says. “And I think you just made it even stronger.”

“Truthfully, Dean, did you know?” I ask him.

“Me?” Dean asks. “No! Ty and I hang out sometimes, but we don’t really talk or anything. I mean, not about serious stuff like this.”

“More about how to get to the next level of
World of Warcraft
?” I ask.

“Yeah,” says Dean, laughing.

“Well, now we all know,” I say. “And if someone really wants to be forgiven, and is truly sorry, how can you deny them that?”

“Are you giving us the WWJD talk?” Dean asks. He laughs again and swats Starla Joy’s arm. And that’s when I notice she’s looking down, her face drawn.

“You’re right, Lace,” says Starla Joy. “He’s trying to find himself again, back here, where his past lives. When bad things happen, I think people want to go back to before … like with Tessa.”

Dean and I both look up at the sound of Tessa’s name. Starla Joy’s eyes sparkle a little, wet with tears that aren’t falling.

I reach out for Starla Joy’s hand. She pulls away as she grabs a napkin from her lunch bag and dabs at the corner of her eye.

Dean and I are still silent.

“She wants to pretend it never happened,” Starla Joy says. “I can tell when I see her. She talks about school; she wants to hear gossip and find out what’s going on with the winter basketball season and whether prom planning has started yet.”

“Isn’t that a good sign?” Dean asks. “She’ll come back to normal here, and it’ll all be okay.”

“She’s not acknowledging reality or being honest about what’s happened,” I say, understanding. “Just like Ty wasn’t.”

“Maybe she just doesn’t want to talk about everything out loud,” Dean says. “Did you guys think of that? Maybe she wants to have a normal conversation with her mom and her sister without being surrounded by reminders that she’s different, that she’s somehow tainted. I’m sure she gets enough of that just being at Saint Angeles!”

I’m surprised at how worked up Dean is getting. From across the field, Laura Bergen waves at us. I’m the only one who waves back, but it breaks the tension a little bit.

“We should go see her,” Dean says.

“I go every weekend,” says Starla Joy. “It doesn’t help.”

“You have to go,” I say. “You’re her sister. But Dean’s right—we should all go. We can let her know that she’s okay, that this is okay.”

“Right,” Dean says. “She’s still Tessa to us—not some slut or sinner or whatever dumb thing people are saying.”

Starla Joy looks down.

“Not that they’re saying that,” I say hurriedly, throwing a look at Dean.

He shrugs. “It’s just the truth,” he says. “We all get called stuff.”

“It’s okay, I hear it too,” says Starla Joy. She tears at the napkin in her hands and we let her think for a minute.

“Please, Starla Joy,” I say after a while. “Let us go see her. We can go on Saturday before the evening Hell House rehearsal.”

“Okay,” she says. “I think she’d like that.”

I nod. This is important.

“Let’s invite Ty,” I say. “He’d want to come, I bet.”

“Yes,” Starla Joy says instantly.

“Cool,” Dean says.

And I feel a surge of affection for my friends. They’re forgiving, they’re understanding, they’re caring. And we all understand that Ty is Ty is Ty. And he’s our friend.

“I’ll talk to him,” I say.

I don’t see Ty for the rest of the day. I figure he avoided us at lunch because he wanted to give us space—time for me to help Starla Joy and Dean understand.

I call him as soon as I get home. It rings and rings, but voice mail picks up. I don’t leave a message, I just wait ten minutes and then call again. This time, when I hear his simple, “Hi, it’s Ty. Talk to me,” I don’t hang up. I don’t want to seem crazy by letting him see multiple missed calls from me, so I just say, “Hey, it’s Lacey. Starla Joy and Dean and I want to go see Tessa on Saturday. Are you in? Call me back.”

I try to keep my voice light.

It works. Two minutes later, my phone rings. I grab it quickly.

“Hey,” I say.

“Hey,” Ty says. “Are you really going to see Tessa?”

“Yes,” I say. Though the way he asks makes me remember to be nervous. I’ll have to lie to my parents again. I’m afraid they’ll tell me I can’t go.

“I’m in,” says Ty, interrupting my worrying.

And that’s all that matters at this moment. Ty’s in.

Chapter Twenty-eight

The plan to see Tessa is in full swing. Starla Joy will pick me up on Saturday for a “precal cram session.” I haven’t figured out how I’ll explain possibly getting home late that day, but I don’t want to lie. That’s why I’m avoiding it altogether. Besides, we’ll be back by seven, in time for the dress rehearsal of Hell House—we all have to be there.

When I slip into the tiny backseat of Starla Joy’s truck on Saturday morning, I can’t help but feel excited. I’ve never been on a road trip. Well, except for with my parents to see my grandmother and my cousins, but that hardly counts.

Dean turns around from the passenger seat.

“I have a box of Fiber One bars, a cooler full of Mountain Dew, and two bags of Doritos—regular and Cool Ranch,” he announces.

“I’ve got to be honest,” says Starla Joy. “That sounds like a fartfest waiting to happen.”

I join in their laughter as we head to Ty’s house. He’s waiting at the end of his long driveway, backpack in hand.

“I told Aunt Vivian we had a project to work on all weekend,” he says, slipping into the seat beside me. “Dean, I’m spending the night at your house.”

“You may want to rethink that after you hear about his snack choices for the day,” I say. Dean smirks, holding up his bars and Doritos for Ty to see.

“I guess we can pick up some fruit or something,” he says.

“No, man,” Ty says. “You got it right. Road trips are made for junk food and McDonald’s!”

“And fiber?” I ask.

“Hey, the guy’s got daily dietary needs,” Ty says. “It’s cool.”

Starla Joy turns up the radio as we get on the ramp to the highway. I look out the window and stare out at the flat plains around us.

“Adios, West River,” says Dean. He leans around with his hand in the air and Ty gives him five.

Dean and Ty go back and forth through the whole car ride, sharing snacks, debating the merits of the new
Star Trek
movies versus the old, arguing over radio stations (Dean wants metal, Ty wants classic rock). I’m surprised that Starla Joy doesn’t chime in for the music part—she usually insists on country while we’re in her truck—but she’s just being quiet, like I am, taking it all in.

We stop at McDonald’s, and I get the two cheeseburger meal, eating one while we’re there and tucking the other into the seat pocket when we get back to the truck. As we pull onto the highway again, Starla Joy says, “If I find that cheeseburger in a week, you’re going to be cleaning this entire truck.”

“Don’t worry,” Ty says, grabbing it. He looks at me and grins, asking for permission as he unwraps it.

“Sure,” I say, smiling.

He takes a huge bite and part of the bun sticks out the side of his mouth. I laugh.

Ty seems wholly himself, like a weight’s been lifted off of him. The slightly brooding moments have left this week—and the confidence that was 90 percent there before shines fully now. I see what forgiveness and honesty can bring. I think of Isaiah 1:18: “ ‘Come now and let us reason together,’ says the Lord. ‘Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow.’ ” And I smile.

A few minutes later, the sky turns gray and it starts to rain a little bit, just enough so Starla Joy puts the windshield wipers on the low setting. I hear the
squeak, squeak, squeak
every time they go across the glass.

Dean reaches for the radio.

“Dean, if you touch that dial while Van Morrison is still singing I will throw your fiber bars right onto the highway,” Ty says, snagging the box of bars and rolling down his window.

Dean puts his tuner-reaching hand up in the air.

“Put the box down,” he says. “There’s no need to take this out on the health food. I am ready for some Metallica though.”

Ty snorts.

“Man, I stayed up all last night working on the Hell House props for the dress rehearsal,” Dean says. “They have to be ready to go tonight or I’m in deep you-know-what.”

“You’re tired?” asks Ty. “That’s why you need Metallica?”