You're Always in the Last Place You Look (5 page)

Chapter Six

“Have you figured it out yet?” Lily asked.

I gave her a warning glare a little too late.

“Figured what out?” Mom asked as she walked in, plopping a roll of TP and a clean towel in the box on the counter.

“Who I’m taking to prom,” I covered, regretting my decision to let Lily stay and help me pack the trailer for the weekend. She had stopped by unannounced, using the guise of wanting to watch us practice on calves even though she knew we never practiced Friday before a rodeo. The horses performed better with a day of rest before the big event.

“That’s what...three weeks away isn’t it?”

I nodded. “Yeah. I haven’t even decided if I want to go.” The second the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. Mom’s green eyes widened as her mouth formed a surprised “O”.

“It’s your senior prom. You’ll be sorry the rest of your life if you don’t go.”

I pulled my eyebrows up. “You would know...” I taunted.

She waved a hand coyly as she played with the cross around her neck.

I explained to Lily. “She went to
every single
dance in high school. She has all these pictures, and each one is with a different guy.”

Lily gaped mockingly at my mom. “Mrs. Simmons!”

Mom grinned wistfully, pushing away from the counter. “Then I met your father...” She started pawing through the box, embarrassed to be talking about her past indiscretions, as she called them. “Do you have enough to eat?”

“Yes. I’ve been hauling myself for over a year now and I haven’t starved yet.” I scooped the box away from her, and kicked the screen door open.

The second we were inside the trailer Lily blurted, “Your mom was a slut. I mean, for back then.”

“That’s my mom you’re talking about.” I opened the cabinet next to the convection oven, and shoved in a box of granola bars, and a bag of Doritos. I turned to find Lily’s plump lips non-existent as she tried not to bust up laughing. “All right, she might have been...liberal, but I don’t think she slept with any of them. Just from how they talk, I get the impression Dad was her first.” I crammed several packs of beef jerky into a drawer. “Why are we talking about my parent’s sex life?”

Lily shrugged, slipping past me on her way to the bathroom with the TP and towel. “You’re the one talking about it.”  She opened the door and wrinkled her nose, waving the folded towel in front of her face. “Didn’t you dump this last time?”

“No, it was only a third full. There’s a bottle of chemicals behind the toilet.”

“I’m not touching that thing.” She tossed the towel and TP in the sink, then closed the door firmly, making mock gagging sounds. She came up behind me, and wrapped her arms around my waist. “I’d rather talk about yours.”

I glanced over my shoulder at her. “My what?”

“Your sex life.”

“Oh. Well, I don’t have one, so why don’t we talk about yours instead?”

“My point exactly. What’s happening with Mr. Hotness?”

“Zane? Nothing. He wasn’t at school today.” When the bell rang, and Zane wasn’t sitting next to me, I had fallen into an odd funk. Not that I missed our sparkling conversations, but I had missed his presence. At first I was worried about him, then I noticed Chuck was missing too, and decided they must be off getting high somewhere.

“How does he just skip like that and not get in trouble?”

Making sure everything was packed into the fridge, I clicked it closed, then turned to her. “He’s kinda been through a lot. I don’t think anyone knows what to do with him, so I think they’re just letting him work through it.”

“It’s so sad about his family.” She shuddered, hugging herself. “I bet he doesn’t sleep much.”

I hadn’t thought about the possibility of nightmares—or even daymares considering how he had been when I found him at Creeksbend. Lily’s simple observation could be the explanation behind his absences, why he sometimes slept in class, even his pot use—because, honestly, who wanted to remember nightmares like that?

“Probably not,” I said quietly.

*

After clipping up AJ’s haybag, I slid his grain pan under the panel. Gator gave me his best abused horse look, trying to tell me all about his rotten life. I knew better however, and didn’t fall under his charms—to often anyway. I scratched his neck, pulling the contraband out of my back pocket.

“Shhh, don’t tell your dad,” I whispered to Gator as I fed him a carrot.

“I didn’t think horses could tattle.”

I turned, and bumped right into Zane. “What are you doing here?” Taking a quick step back, I hit the panel behind me, making it rattle.

He reached out to touch Gator’s nose, and the gelding snorted and backed away. “Obviously nothing as
illicit
as what you’re doing.”

“I...it’s just...Tye doesn’t believe in giving treats.”
Why am I explaining myself to him
? I frowned. “What are you doing here?” I asked again.

He glanced over his shoulder. “I came to watch Chuck toss a cow and ride a bull. He didn’t stay on the bull very long.”

I chuckled, then cleared my throat remembering Chuck would probably beat me to a bloody pulp if he heard I had laughed at him. “Wrestle a steer.”

“What?” Zane looked at me confused.

“It’s steer wrestling, not cow tossing. Or you can call it bulldogging, but most say steer wrestling these days.”

“Oh.” He nodded, feigning interest. “I saw you rope the baby cow too. Whad’ya place, like third?”

“Second.”

“Do you get a ribbon or something for second?”

“Cash—well, a check. Over two-hundred today.”

“Dollars?” he blurted, blue eyes widening.

“No, pesos. Of course dollars.”

“Shit. I might have to learn how to rope.”

I laughed. “I got my first rope for my fifth birthday, and lived with one in my hand for years, roping everything I could.”

“You’re not very good if you only got second.”

AJ had finished his grain and was becoming curious about Zane’s leather jacket. I was tempted to let AJ yank on it for that comment. But I grabbed his sleeve just in time, and pulled him away. AJ’s teeth scraped along the metal panel, and Zane shot behind me, holding me in front of him like a shield.

“Shit, does he bite?” 

He was so close I could feel the warmth of his body, and I resisted the temptation to lean against him. Well, I leaned back a little. I had to walk before I could run after all. Besides, what was the worst that could happen? He could push me away, tell me he was straight, sick Chuck on the fag—that last one was probably the most likely.

“No, but he likes to play with coats while they’re still on people, and probably would have torn your jacket.” I went to scratch AJ, and Zane’s grip tightened on my waist, keeping me where I was.

I glanced over my shoulder. “Zane, what are you doing?”

“It was getting a bit out of hand down there, so I decided to take a walk.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.”

He let his hands fall, and the warmth of him retreated. I turned and found him looking towards the bonfire near Chuck’s rig, his lips firmly set. He withdrew a bottle from within his coat, unscrewed the cap, and took a long swallow. His attention shifted back to me as he offered the whiskey over. I shook my head. With a shrug he brought the bottle back up to his lips before replacing the cap.

His arm landed over my shoulders, tugging me along. “Come on, cowboy. I’m gonna get drunk, and you can keep me from doing something crazy.”

At least he hadn’t called me God Boy. “Wait, how did I become the designated drunk-sitter?” I ducked out from under his arm.

“Well, I had kinda hoped you’d get drunk with me, but...”

“I see. Get me drunk and have your way with me?”
Did I really say that
? I was awfully close to the fire here. For all I knew Zane was rigidly straight, and just toying with me.

He let out a short laugh. “If I wanted a one night stand, it wouldn’t be with you.”

“What exactly does that mean?”

He shook his head, lowering his eyes to the bottle in his hand. “Nothing. It means nothing.” He frowned, uncapping the bottle again.

Before he could take another swig I snatched it away, and took a drink. I handed it back, clearing my throat aggressively to prevent myself from coughing. It wasn’t my first whiskey, but the initial burn of the first sip always made me cough. I was sure looking like a sissy probably wouldn’t impress Zane.
Oh my God
. How weird that I wanted to impress a guy?

He cocked his head, a smirk playing with his lips. “What exactly does
that
mean?”

“Just that if you finish the bottle by yourself, I’ll probably end up holding your hair back most of the night. And while some may think that romantic, it’s not exactly the first memory I want with you.”
Dang
. Where had all that come from? I hadn’t drunk enough to blame the alcohol, but it must have come from somewhere.
Did he just give me a sultry look
?

“Me neither.”

Why am I looking at the goats
? I forced my eyes back to Zane’s face.
Oh that’s definitely a sultry look
. His eyes were so pretty when they weren’t empty or cold. Man, I hoped I was reading him right. Why was he grinning like that?
Shit
.

“What?” I asked.

He pulled on his lip ring and shook his head, his eyes wrinkling in the corners. “God, you’re cute.” He latched an arm around my neck, and started walking.

“I’m not cute,” I said, incensed. However, in my head I was Rudolph leaping around yelling; I’m cute, I’m cute!

“You’re damn cute when you’re flustered.” He took another swallow from the bottle, and I grabbed it, following suit.

Even though I was flirting rather boldly right now, I felt without some help my courage might suddenly flee, leaving me squealing and running for the sanctuary of my trailer.

Zane stiffened, letting loose of my neck as he stepped away from me. He glanced towards Chuck’s trailer and the well-attended bonfire.

“I take it you don’t want to head down there?” I hadn’t even considered being seen, but Zane seemed to be on his toes.

“No. Neither do you.”

I rolled my eyes. “It wouldn’t be the first time they bashed me.” I took another drink, and handed the bottle back to Zane.

“They’re not bashing you specifically.”

“Mm.” I noticed the fierce look in his eyes. “Or you specifically?”

He sneered. “Precisely.” Another long shot traveled down his throat.

We wandered around, the easy banter coming back while Zane’s hand crammed into his coat pocket, and remained there. I wasn’t really shocked to discover I missed his arm around my shoulders. That was just another confused part of me finally finding purchase.

Zane thought it was the coolest thing when one of the bulls rubbed his big head against his hand. I didn’t have the heart to tell him most bucking bulls loved a good scratch. I didn’t really want Zane to think he could climb into the pens with them either, so I kept my mouth shut and acted amazed.

By the time we reached the bottom of the bottle we weren’t drunk, but we were louder. Zane pulled out a flask.

“How many pockets does that coat have?”

“Um, four?” He held up his arms, grinning wickedly. “You want to check?”

“You’re just trying to get me close so you can take advantage.”

“I already told you I don’t want to sleep with you.”

“That’s not exactly what you said. But, um, did you mean ever, or just tonight?”

“My shits kinda fucked up.” He scrunched his face up. “Wait. That doesn’t sound right. My heads still fucked up.” He took a swig from the flask, licked his lips, then gave me a serious appraisal. “I think just tonight.” He passed me the flask, and I squinted into the tiny opening, trying to ignore the light feeling that just swooshed through me.

“What is it?”

“Brandy. It’s the only thing
Merrill
drinks. Sandy has him so pussy-whipped. You know he grew up in Boston just like my mom.”

“Aren’t they brother and sister?” I sniffed the brandy. It smelled sweet, and irritated my nose a little.

Zane sputtered, and bent over laughing. “Duh, I forgot.” He straightened, letting out a noisy sigh, and pointed at me. “Just drink it. It makes you warm all over.”

“You make me warm all over.” I leered at him.
Ooo, maybe a little drunk
.

I stared, entranced, as his tongue shot out, and ran deliberately across his lips before he busted up laughing again. I snickered as I tipped the flask up. The liquid burned across my tongue and all the way down my throat, lighting my belly on fire. I made a face and shivered. I think whiskey set with me better. Zane downed the rest then lit a cigarette.

He smoked as we weaved our way among the trailers until we stumbled upon mine. I couldn’t find the right key in the dark, and after trying three, Zane reached out and pulled the latch. The door opened. I giggled. I must have forgotten to lock it,
oops
.