“Dang, you even brought me beer. We need a better system. Some way for you to let me know where you are.”

I liked that he wanted to know, but I also liked him not knowing. Sometimes waiting and being disappointed was good, to remind me he didn’t belong to me. Nothing belonged to me. I shrugged and lay down on the quilt, which didn’t smell like Grandma’s house anymore, unless I closed my eyes and concentrated.

“How are these new boots treating you?” he said, as he pulled them off.

He bought me new ones every year to start school. This was the sixth pair, to get me ready for high school in August. Seventh grade was at the old middle school, the last year before they closed it. For eighth grade, I would be going to the new high school in Belton County, which was an hour each way on the bus. “You’re not riding no two goddamn hours on the bus. I’m taking you,” Kellen said. He didn’t care that it was farther.

The boots for eighth grade had to be bought early, because I not only wore out the old ones but outgrew them, too.

I nodded, but didn’t open my eyes, to test an idea. If I kept my eyes closed, would it be easier to send Kellen a message? I waited but nothing happened, except that he went on talking while he took his boots off.

“You know, I still got a whole lotta poker money burning a hole in my pocket.”

“Yours.” I squinted harder, making stars sparkle inside my eyelids.

“Only what I started with is mine. You won the rest. Shit, Scott isn’t gonna live that down for a long time.”

Smiling made it harder to send my message, but I liked winning and having Kellen kiss my foot. I crept my toes across the quilt to find Kellen’s feet, which were hard as hooves. I went without socks, when I forgot to do laundry, but he didn’t own any socks. Still, I liked to pet his feet with mine. Touch his hands with mine. Rub my cheek against his. I liked how we were different, but the same.

Lying back beside me, he spread his arm out to make me a pillow.

“You didn’t go swimming tonight?” he said.

“Before. With Donal.”

“That’s nice. Is he in bed now?”

I nodded and wiggled closer so I could press my face into his armpit. Sweaty but clean.

“You need to quit squirming and lay still,” he said. He was ticklish.

I swallowed a giggle and stayed where I was to tease him. He always wanted me to say the stars, and if I didn’t do it soon enough, he got impatient.

“Ursa Maj—”

I poked a finger into his side to stop him and he laughed.

“What? Not Ursa Major?”

We waited, trying to trick each other. The kind of trick I liked.

“Orion?” he said.

“Noooo.”

“No? Oh, right, we won’t see him until October. I guess that means I can keep wearing his belt until then.”

I put my hand over his mouth to make him be quiet. The message I was trying to send was, “Kiss me.” He did kiss my hand before I took it away, but that wasn’t what I wanted.

“I promise I’ll be good,” he said.

Wiggling around to get comfortable, I put my head back on his arm. Then I looked up at the sky and found my place. Looking at the stars was like opening a familiar book. I made him wait a little longer, since he didn’t pay attention to my message. He must have gotten it late, because after a minute, he kissed my hair. When I turned my face to him, he kissed my lips, too.

“Cassiopeia,” I said.

10

KELLEN

Waking up in the meadow was Wavy’s favorite thing. She was more likely to talk first thing in the morning, too. I might get a whole dozen words out of her before the sun came up. I might even get the three I liked best.

Me, I loved falling asleep in the meadow. The hay rustling around us, the stars overhead, owls in the cottonwoods. Wavy curled up next to me so we were like two animals bedded down in the grass.

That night, I was glad I skipped the beers. I remembered things better when I was sober. Like Wavy’s cheek stuck to my arm with sweat, and the wind ruffling her hair against my neck. I kissed her hand and pressed it over my heart.

“Hmmm,” she said, already half asleep.

A car drove down the road to the south, going too fast. After it passed, crickets filled up the quiet. A while later, another car came down the road, scattering gravel. I was just about asleep when a squealing thud jerked me wide awake. I sat up and Wavy woke up with a whimper, clutching at me.

The car engine clunked and died.

“Somebody just wrecked up on the road. I’m gonna walk over and check it out,” I said.

I wanted Wavy to stay there, but when I pulled on my boots, she did the same. We struck out across the meadow toward the road and, when we came over the rise, I could see headlights off to the southwest. The road curved there, with a fork to the north for a service road to the stock tank and windmill. There was a cattle guard across the ditch between iron gate posts. Car musta took the curve too fast.

When Wavy broke into a run, I knew she’d figured it out, same as me. Two cars driving away from the farmhouse in the middle of the night? One was probably Val.

Cutting through the hay, Wavy left me behind. When I got to the ditch, the passenger side headlight blinded me, skewing up at the wrong angle. I tripped over something and landed hard, gravel digging into my elbow. I hauled myself back up and ran like I hadn’t since I played football in high school.

One of the gate posts had cut through the car’s hood, ruptured the radiator, and rammed the engine right into the front seat. There was antifreeze and gas pouring onto the road, turning it to mud. The driver’s side was down into the ditch, and with the engine in the way, I couldn’t see any way to get to Val. She was pinned behind the wheel and covered in blood. Dead for all I knew. For all I cared really, except I didn’t want Wavy to see that.