By being on the land, I’d been able to keep my mind off losing Gran. I cut the hay in the back field, helped Mr. Bergen move his cattle from one pasture to another, then helped harvest corn in the east fields. Unable to enter the trailer, I slept three nights in the hammock.
I spent a lot of that time absorbed in memories of Scarlett. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because thinking of her was easier than thinking of Gran. But I try not to think of Scarlett anymore, at least not as my Tink. She’s changed and so have I. Life sucks that way.
The first day of school is tomorrow, and I need a shower and a decent meal. As I approach the front of the trailer I raise my eyebrows at the sight of Veronica sitting on my steps.
V is all of four foot nine, ninety pounds, has striking blue eyes, a head full of tight blond curls and takes adorable to another level. Yet the girl used to smoke Marlboros like a southern boy hooked on NASCAR, and when she’s pissed she cusses with the eloquence of a retired combat marine. When she’s happy, she rivals unicorns puking rainbows, and that’s when the scary really begins.
Finding her on my front steps with an expression that reminds me of the Reaper doesn’t sit well. In fact, the shifting in my gut informs me my aorta is about to be slashed.
“Jesse Lachlin returns.” V takes a drag on her cigarette, blows out the smoke and then smashes out the tip on a rock by her foot. She only smokes when she’s having a bad day.
If I ask her what’s wrong, she’d get pissed and deny she’s having problems. That irritates me, and I’m not into fruitless conversations, so I keep my mouth shut.
“My butt got numb an hour ago waiting on you to show. Here’s a piece of advice: answer your texts so I don’t have to hitchhike to confirm you’re still alive.”
I stop at the bottom of the steps and look at V, but I don’t see her. Instead I imagine the inside of the trailer. It’s dark. The air possibly stale from no one being in or out for days. A genuine tomb.
My stomach sinks because the last thing I want is to cross the threshold and spot Gran’s ashes on the mantel. There will be no smile at me walking in covered in dirt from working hard. No glare for not coming home for the last three nights. No comfortableness as we watch TV in silence. A heaviness in my chest, and I briefly close my eyes at the pain.
“Why didn’t you tell us your grandmother passed?” V asks, and my insides flip at the sympathy in her tone. I hang with V because she’s not sentimental. She’s steel; so are the other two guys we hang with. None of us have room for emotions.
I hitch a thumb over my shoulder. “Want to get off my steps so I can shower?”
She nods as if she’s agreeing to how I need this to play out. V stands to the side, allowing me access to the door, and after the lock clicks open, I swallow. This is it. This is how life is going to be now and forever—alone.
I push the door open, flick on the light and breathe out when I walk in without ripping in half. At least not physically. The emotional might take a few decades.
“Are you going to invite me in?” V asks from the door.
Like a vampire afraid she’ll burst into flames, the girl won’t go into any house without permission. Does it make sense? No. Will V tell any of us why she’s like this? Never. Maybe she is a vampire. Those monsters are supposed to be super-teddy-bear cute on the outside and deadly on the inside, right? “Come in.”
She does and follows me into the kitchen. A red light flashes from Gran’s old-school landline phone, and I push play on the answering machine.
“Hi, Jesse. This is Mrs. Haig.” My guidance counselor from school. “I’d like to pass on my condolences, and I’d like you to drop by the office on Monday so we can discuss the plans you had for your senior year. I know that you worked hard to gather enough credits to graduate by December, but now that things have changed, I’d like to discuss other options.”
Options meaning she would like me to stay in school and graduate in May. She was never a big fan of me graduating early. I was doing it so I could take care of Gran full-time. Now, thanks to Marshall, my future is blurry.
Mrs. Haig says a few more things then the message ends. I go to the sink, wash my hands, and V props herself on the counter. She wears a black shirt that falls off the shoulder, a short skirt, and neon-pink and black striped socks that reach her knees. She’s a funked-out Wicked Witch of the West.
“Are you going to tell me what that message was about?” V asks.
No. “Who brought you here?”
“Leo and Nazareth. They sat with me for a bit, but then they had to go to work. They’ll be here later to take me home.”
I turn off the water. “You’ve been here all day?”
“And yesterday.” She shrugs one shoulder. “I had two days off at the grocery store and was bored. Here’s better than home anyhow.”
True story. V’s alone a lot and her house is bizarre. I don’t scare easily, but that place makes the hair on my arms stand on end.
“Look,” she says. “None of us are warm and fuzzy and not a single one of us know what to say about your gran dying, and if we did attempt words, we’d probably tell you something stupid like ‘suck it up and get laid.’ So instead of saying something that’ll make you kick our asses, how about we agree to ignore it and yet you know that we aren’t complete jerks because our silence doesn’t mean we don’t care.”
I slowly finish drying my hands, and she rakes nervous fingers through her shoulder-length curls, a rare moment of insecurity.
“Unless you want to talk,” she continues. “I mean, I guess we can do that. I’m a girl. I can do feelings.”
The right side of my mouth tips up with how she shivered with the word feelings. She might be more jacked in the head than me. I doubt it, but it’s possible. “Hungry?”
“Starved.”
The shower will wait. I open the fridge and find nothing besides mustard, ketchup and barbecue sauce. “Want to get a taco?”
She’s already on her cell, and I don’t have to ask to know she’s telling Leo and Nazareth to meet us at Cosmic’s, the only Mexican place in town.
I go down the hallway, and I’m grateful I closed the door to Gran’s room because I’m barely holding it together now. Seeing her room without her in it might make me drop to my knees and bawl like a baby. At least with the door closed, I can pretend she’s still alive.
“Mind if we go shopping afterwards?” I call out as I switch jeans and peel my shirt off. She gets a 15 percent discount at the grocery store and that discount is going to help me survive until the land is mine. Possibly for a while after, until I can get the farm up and running right again.
“As long as it’s not the five-finger discount, I’m in.” V leans her shoulder against my doorframe and stares at the maps on my wall. One is of the world. The other of the U.S. Along the other walls are smaller maps of other states and regions. V raises an eyebrow as if today will be the day I offer her an explanation for my map obsession. I don’t offer one. Instead, I dig my keys and wallet out of my old jeans and slide past her for the front door.
We walk out and I see the light is on from Scarlett’s second-floor bedroom. She said her goal is to attend the University of Kentucky. Her CEO daddy could empty his pants pocket and have enough to buy her an entire wing at the school. But I saw the expression on her face, understood what she didn’t say—Daddy must have said no.
I don’t need to understand the why for the scenario, I just need the girl to like me well enough to vote for me to keep the land.
“I need a favor,” I say.
V pauses at the front of my rusting truck and studies my face. Asking to use her discount, that’s something we all do. Other than that? I don’t ask for favors.
“What do you need?”
“I need you to help someone get a job at the grocery store with no questions asked.” A job is what Scarlett asked for, but I don’t think she fully understands her request.
If Daddy has dug in his feet, and the University of Kentucky is something Scarlett really wants, she’ll have to become a big girl and do it on her own like the rest of us peasants. That means money and money means a job. That responsibility will probably scare the hell out of her.
V’s been employed at the Save Mart since she was fourteen and has worked herself up to assistant manager. It sounds big, but it means she has to fight with people over returns. V’s sweetly mean enough to say no with enough force that people listen.
“Will you buy me dinner tonight?” All negotiations for me and her come down to food and money. It’s gritty and simple. “And tomorrow night, then once a week after that.”
“I’ll buy dinner tonight, tomorrow night and then I have the option after that to either buy you dinner once a week or make you dinner once a week.” Dinner out can get costly. Even at ninety-nine cents per taco.
She bobs her head as if she’s weighing the pros and cons. “Fine, but if you make dinner then it’s hot and it isn’t something frozen that you put in the microwave to warm up. Real food, Lachlin.”
“Deal.”
“Then have whoever it is show after school on Tuesday. I’ll find something for them.” She walks backward then spins for the passenger side door of my truck. As soon as we’re in, gravel flies from the back tires and screeching guitars blare from the broken speakers. I peek over at Scarlett’s window, and I swear the curtain moves.