I turn around and start walking toward the closest people to me. Marie and Ashleigh sit on the remnants of an old wood fence I’d only ever sit on if for some reason I was looking to have a gigantic splinter in my ass, which I very rarely am. Marie pats the space next to her in wordless invitation as she drags on a joint. “I’m good, thanks. But I’ll take some of that,” I say pointing at the joint. She hands it to me leaving her hand extended to indicate she’ll be wanting it right the fuck back. I hand it back to her, coughing a lot less than I need to, but just enough to not look like a newb. “What’s up,” I choke out. “Just waiting for everyone to get up here?”
“Pretty much,” they say in unison.
“How was your party, Ash?” I ask. “Fine,” Ashleigh responds. “Got a lot of cash. Which is good because that’s what you reeeally need, right? When you leave home.”
“For sure,” I respond, not at all sure of what I reeeally needed once I leave home and feeling the weight of that reality dissipate with the burning in my throat. “Aaaah,” I say. “That’s good stuff.” Marie laughs and says “How would you know? Dandelions would get you high.”
“Give me a fucking break, the track season ended YESTERDAY, ok? Gotta build that tolerance back up,” I say.
“I smoked the whole season,” Marie says, exhaling proudly and passing the joint back to me.
“Well, maybe you should try running a real race, then. Like one that’s over 200 meters.”
“Well, we can’t all be perfect, can we; can’t all be state champ?”
“Too true,” I respond. She’s one of those people that think other people’s accomplishments are offensive, and I’m not doing this with her right now. “Where’d Chole go?” I ask, hiding my irritation at her words behind a practiced look of indifference. “Which?” the two ask in unison. “Big,” I respond. They point behind me, and I turn to see him at the edge of the clearing with little Cole, Danny and Wayne. He’s standing next to the four-wheeler, now, sweat darkening the neckline and armpits of his Class of 007 t-shirt, drinking from a bottled water. “Ah, be back,” I say as I jog away from them.
“Sure you will,” they yell after me, and I raise my arm, middle finger affectionately pointing their way. Chole sees me coming and opens his arms to me, crushing and dropping the bottle in one swift motion. As his arms close around me I feel the same way the person that coined the phrase bear hug must have. “Come here my precious petal,” he says enfolding me in a hug. “Ha, it’s gonna be like that is it C-hole?” I say into his chest as he raises me off the ground. He’s the only person tall enough to lift me off the ground in our class at six foot four. “C hole?”
“Yeah, since you are a Ch Chole. C-Hole,” I reply.
“Oh, no. I get it. It’s just one of the stupider things you’ve ever said,” he says. I cross my arms, looking wounded at the criticism. His brown eyes glow amber in the setting sunlight. “Shut up. You’re stupid. So is precious petal.”
“I didn’t say you are stupid. I said that what you said was stupid. You are precious.”
“Colt did call me princess on our way. Maybe I am acting precious today.”
“In some lights, yes,” he says smiling. I roll my eyes.
“I like C-hole, actually,” Little Cole says from behind us.
“That’s just because you’re tired of people calling you Little Cole. If they call me C-hole, you can just be Cole,” Big Chole says.
“Obviously,” says Little Cole. I laugh and hook my arm into Big Chole’s and pull him away from the group. He follows my lead. “I hate that you shaved,” I say, stopping far enough away that our voices can’t be overheard. I reach up and cup his face in my hands appraisingly. My thumbs trace the faint tan line marking the sun-kissed skin of his prominent cheek-bones from the recently bearded hollows. “My mom made me. Stop talking about it. I feel weird enough as it is,” he says, and I put my hands up in a sign of surrender. “Fine, just don’t do it again.” It stings when I realize the next time I see him it will probably be full again. It won’t be any of my business if he shaves it every day for the rest his life. I won’t be there. While my life moves on his will be hidden from me, moving along in its own way and when I see him next, he’ll be different. Less mine, and2 the parts of him that aren’t mine will only grow.
Colt’s concerned eyes flash through my mind, and all of a sudden, I feel bad for being so shitty with him. The days between now and my departure feel as few as they are. I don’t have a seemingly endless number of days to clean it up anymore. I don’t even have the summer, like I should. Fuck. Shit. Jesus. Why? Why am I like this? Constantly waffling and questioning. It’s exhausting, but here I am. Waffled, and necessarily compelled to clean up my mess.
I must have a look on my face, because Chole says, “What’s wrong? Need me to take care of someone?” miming throat slitting with his thumb across his throat. I shake my head, responding with a flat, “no. I’m fine.”
“I’ll kill ‘em,” he shouts,” dramatically, in a bid to make me laugh. The girls sitting around the piled wood look over at us. Chole and I give each other comically wide-eyed stares. “What?” he yells to them. They roll their eyes and go back to their conversation as we sit down on a huge stump together.
“You’re going to be a great dad someday. You are very embarrassing.”
“I’m already a great dad,” he responds. My stomach plummets.
“What? Who?”
“You he says. I’m your papa.”
“Do you know how fucking weird our relationship is? Like, how confused someone would be if I tried to explain it? ”
“Probably not as weird as some of your other relationships.”
“Do not even start on that.”
“Wasn’t going to, just saying.”
“Good.”
“That what’s bothering you?”
“What?”24Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7BLrGhGNdy
“Colt.”
“I’m fine. Don’t worry your pretty-little head about me,” I respond.
“Papa bear not gonna let anything happen to his pup,” he says in a halting native accent that makes me cringe. “You’re stupid.” I say.
“Stupid, but strong,” he says in the same accent. Flexing and kissing his significant bicep. I punch him. “You gonna keep doing that when you leave?”
“What?”
“Act like, ‘the Indian.’”
“I am the Indian,” he says.
“K, whatever.”
“You got something against Indians?”
“No, just with someone else choosing who you get to be.”
“Who? My dad?”
“No. Jay.”
“Jay made me an Indian?”
“You know what I mean. He’s always taking it upon himself to give people stupid nicknames, like he gets to change someone’s name if it suits him. The self-importance…”
“People like it.”
“They have to. It’s not like he asked Scraps if he could start calling him Scraps, he just started calling him that. What’s a freshman supposed to say when a senior starts calling him that? Nothing. That’s just his name now. Just call people by their fucking names. Is that so hard? You don’t get to pick other people’s names. Like, who does he think he is?”
“Geez, Lil take it easy.”
“A swift kick to the dick would be pretty easy.”
“You should be a poet. That was beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I say flipping imaginary hair over my shoulder, since my real hair is up.
“You gotta quit with him,” Chole says. “I don’t know what’s going on with you two, but…”
“What do you mean, ‘you two?’ It is not us two. He raped Sierra. Him. He is the problem.”
“He didn’t…”
“Don’t you fucking say it. She was hammered, and he took advantage. He didn’t rape her as much as Janet is still a virgin. Vaginal penetration isn’t the end all, be all.”
“Can I talk? Damn. What he did was wrong. Ok? It was. I know it. He knows it. We all know it. I just…” he pauses.
“Go on. Dazzle me with your logic,” I say in the silence.
“Just shut up for a minute. Jesus Christ. What I was going to say is just... he’s different lately. Something’s up with him. Just watch it, ok?”
“He’s the one that should watch it. I will end him.” I say, meaning to be hyperbolic, but the words come out wrong. They’re serious, and I know I mean them. Chole hears the bite in my words and looks at me seriously. “Lil, I’m not kidding.”
“Good, cuz I don’t think it’s funny. He’s going to have to learn that somehow.”
“And let me guess; you’re going to teach him?” Chole says.
“Jim’s not a jiu jitsu coach for nothing,” I say, calling my dad by his first name for comedic effect. I look side long at Chole smirking and bumping my knee into his.
“You’re giving me that look, but I don’t think this is funny.”
“Not even a little?”
“Not even a little.”
“Ok, fine,” I say pretending to cross something off a list. “Fucking up Jay is no longer on the agenda.” I rise from the stump to stand, saying, “Now come on, let’s ride off into the sunset and never come back.” Chole stares back at me and, seemingly assured that I’m going to lay off Jay, he stands and starts to walk back to the four-wheeler saying, “Deal, as long as never comes before the food does.”
“Fine.” I say climbing on behind him. Then I wrap my arms around him tight and resting my face on his back, close my eyes.
By the time we get back the sun is setting, casting a pink hue on everything and I look at it all with the significance of a goodbye. Even the stupid stuff like Will and Tom, trying to pull a tree down with a tether attached to a truck. Why? Why? And Pete and little Cole trying to jump over a fire. The groups of people have grown now and grown lively with talking, singing, and dancing. Talking singing or dancing, at an event like this is a rather scientific scale by which one can define a group’s sobriety. There is quite a lot of singing along to Soulja Boy but hardly any dancing, yet. “Want me to get you anything?” Chole asks pointing at the folding table with burgers, hot dogs, buns, and chips.
“No. I’m good,” I say spotting Colt’s hunched figure next to the fire. Chole follows my line of sight, then asks “Lil, what are you doing?”
“Walking?” I say.
“With Colt, I mean.”
“I don’t follow,” I say, following very well indeed. I stop when he does, looking him dead in the eye.
“You had two years of you two acting like you were just friends being flirty and inseparable as fuck and who knows what else.”
“Nothing else, is what else,” I whisper, “and can you not talk so loud?”
“Whatever you say,” he whispers, smiling at my request, “but now he’s with Marcy and you’re trying to blow it up. You liked him as more than friends the whole time, but you were like, too scared or something. I don’t know. You both were, but Marcy changed the game, and you aren’t playing by the rules.”
“Let’s assume that what you’re saying is even accurate.”
“It is.”
“Ahem, he chooses to spend more time with me than her. That’s not my fault. If his relationship is getting blown up, it’s his grenade, even if I am the pin. Which I am not.”
“Does it matter? Look, I’m not saying what you’re doing is wrong. What I’m saying is do it or don’t. One word from you and she’s gone.”
“You think so?” I say, heartened.
“I know so. Everyone does.”
“Even Marcy?”
“Yeah, Duh. Why do you think she acts like that around you?”
“Like what?”
“A bitch.”
“You said it, not me,” I chuckle.
“That I did,” he says. “She hates ya.”
“Thanks. So… supposing there’s something to tell… you think I should tell him… now?”
“Up to you, I’m just the voice of reason.”
“That’s new. How’s that feel?”
“Pretty fucking good, not gonna lie. Now leave me alone, I need to eat,” he says shoving me in Colt’s direction and continuing on his own way to the food.
“Tata,” I say.
I watch him as he walks away and is consumed by a loud group before he makes it to the food. I can hear Jay say, “How,” in a crude, cartoon-esque, native accent, saluting Chole. I roll my eyes. This guy. In the growing dark I can’t tell if Chole is looking at me, but it seems like he is, so I keep my thoughts to myself if only to relieve him of intervention.
24Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡA6PZk4sJ1C
