I didn’t manage the thirty minutes. When Jen was on a rant about my dad—which was more often than not most days—it took me a while to appease her and remind her that I was utterly self-sufficient. I also knew emphatically that I could go to her and Mike if I needed to. It ended up taking me forty-two minutes to get her voice down a couple of octaves, and a pot of sweet iced tea brewed before I could leave. As always, I assured her that I was going to be fine and she was the first number on speed dial if that should change. Jen didn’t need to know that I probably wasn’t going to get my butt home early enough to have to listen to the drunken howls coming from my dad’s living room. I really had been thinking about the straturday broadcast when I’d told Megan that. This was the best night on the radio for me.

When I finally pulled up under my grove of trees, where the smell of dried soil and decomposing leaves filled the air, I parked next to Dustin’s big truck and waited for a couple of minutes to catch my breath before climbing out. It felt like I was on the fringes of a tornado, the wild wind whipping at my clothes and attempting to drag me in, and—whether I wanted to admit the truth to myself or not—in that metaphor, Dustin was the tornado. When I finally unfolded myself and approached his truck, a quick glance in the cab on my tiptoes revealed Dustin curled up in his seat, asleep. His dark hair was flat from wearing his cap, which was now on the seat next to him, and his arms were folded tightly over his chest as he folded in on himself. It didn't take a genius to see he'd been through Hell and back all morning. Even in sleep, his tension hung around him like a shroud—lines etched in his forehead as he scowled at the earth. I didn’t have the heart to wake him up from his much-needed slumber, even if this was a bad nap. The gossip mill made it sound like he’d had a shitty day and probably hadn’t had the opportunity to sleep like I had. So I flicked the radio in my car on quietly, turned the dial to a moderate volume, and reached for the book I’d been reading all week before climbing on my hood to wait him out.

I was completely lost in the pages of the story when Dustin finally joined me. I’d all but forgotten that he was sharing the canopy with me, and with the light of the day now fading fast behind the horizon, I realized I'd been there for hours, too.

Plucking my book from my grip, Dustin spun the paperback in his steady hands, careful not to lose my place as he squinted sleepily at the cover before handing it back with a small laugh.

“Big John Grisham fan?” The question was followed by a yawn and twist of his neck.

“I really am. I picked up The Testament accidentally in freshman year and have devoured everything of his since. Have you read any of his stuff?”

Dustin shrugged noncommittally. “I’m more of a horror kind of guy.”

“Oh, I like horror movies, but reading horror stories is totally different. They freak me out. My imagination tends to run away with me, and I start seeing things in the shadows.” I pulled the book back into my lap, slipping the bookmark into place before dropping it between the two of us with a dull thud. I was doing my best to give him time to wake up a little bit, but I was also itching with curiosity as to why he’d asked me to come and meet him—although I was more than happy to share my spot with him if the calm of the place helped him in some way.

“How long have you been here?” he asked, looking at his watch and avoiding my eyes.

“A few hours. I didn’t have the heart to wake you up. I slept all morning, and you looked like you hadn’t slept at all.”

“I hadn’t.” He rubbed his hands over his head, suddenly realizing he was missing his cap. I don’t think I’d ever seen him without it. The bent, out of shape Childress High baseball cap was one of those things that were always with him – an identifier of sorts. Me? I had my favorite pair of Vans, which were battered, beaten, and dirtier than they should be, but they were comfortable. Dustin was just as less likely to grow out of his hat. Turning to look at the truck, he clearly considered going to collect it before dropping back on his elbows and shaking his head, almost as though he was dispelling the notion. Apparently, he wasn’t in the mood to get up. Instead, he turned his eyes to me and studied my face. My skin heated under his scrutiny, and my heart pounded against my ribs as the air between us grew thicker and heavier in a way I had no words to describe. I rarely spoke to people outside of Megan and her mom, so this kind of intensity felt alien enough to create a discomfort, which forced me to fidget and drop my gaze to the ends of my hair that were hanging loosely around me.

“Bad day?” I finally asked.

“The worst. I knew I was gonna catch hell when I got back, but that was just…” He trailed off and shrugged like the drama meant nothing at all. I knew what he’d gone through was much more than that, but I stayed quiet and let him gather his thoughts. “I was ready to walk out ten minutes into the lectures. I didn’t because it would make things worse. Through all of the shit they threw at me, all of the lectures and fights, all I could think about was last night, and you, until their voices faded into droning noises that were more manageable. The point is, Miki, I don’t think anyone has ever just talked to me like that before. When it was all said and done, and the dust settled, this was the only place I wanted to be.”

“I’m more than happy to share all this with you,” I said, smiling and flinging my hands up to showcase the area. “You don’t need me—”

“With you. Here,” he clarified before I could finish. My hands dropped into my lap, and I could feel his eyes burning onto the side of my head as he waited for my response. Dustin had probably never been rejected before in his life, and from the intense way he was squeezing one of his fists with his other hand; he’d considered that I was capable of turning him down.

The teenage girl that still resided in the core of me jumped up and squealed with absolute joy. This handsome and popular guy actually wanted to spend time with me—the girl who our peers rarely acknowledged. Unfortunately, the more mature part of me—the bit that existed because of the life that had been forced upon me—reminded myself that he was vulnerable and hurting right now, and I was simply a shoulder for him to lean on, an ear to bend, and an objective voice of reason. All of the things I offered freely, but they weren’t a foundation to build any kind of relationship on. I couldn’t be his safety net when I had too much baggage of my own.

“Dustin, I—”

“No. Please… Just hear me out.”

I nodded for him to go on.

“I’m not an idiot. I realize I just broke up with the girl I’ve been dating since I was eleven. I’ve quit the football team and defied my dad’s orders. I know things are really shit right now, and I’m not proposing we start dating or even have a serious relationship, but what about a friendship? You know… hanging out like we are now?”

I could feel my cheeks heating and dropped my chin so I was looking at the paint chip on the hood. Of course, my own assumptions had been ridiculous—what could he have possibly seen in me other than friendship? I should have figured that out before I’d tried to talk him out of dating me like an absolute idiot. At least he’d saved me from making a complete ass of myself. I’d never been more grateful for my lack of loquaciousness than I was at that very moment. Although saying as little as I had didn’t stop me from feeling like a fool, and it didn’t stop the very real ache of disappointment from curling up and settling into my gut for the long haul.

“Hey… you weren’t wrong,” he said, placing his hand on top of mine, his tone offering some thin veil of validation when I hadn’t known the barest hint of calm was possible. When I didn’t look up at him, he lifted my chin so I couldn’t avoid his eyes. “I really like you, Miki. I like the way I can talk to you and not second guess myself because I’m worried you’re judging me, or that you’ll tell anyone else everything I said to gain popularity. I like the way you look at me when I’m talking because you want to read my expressions so you really understand what I’m feeling. I like your crazy taste in music and the way you come to life when you talk about the things you love. The problem is, I don’t like myself right now, and I need to figure shit out before I drag anyone else into my fucked up world with any level of permanence. I’m offering friendship because I’m too selfish to leave you alone or lose your companionship.”

“You don’t know me that well, though.”

“So, you’re telling me everything I just said is wrong?”

“Not even a little bit,” I answered honestly, my head lifting and leaving the light touch of his fingers behind. “I just didn’t think—”

“That I would have noticed?”

“That I’d shown you that much of myself,” I clarified, my fingers closing around his outstretched wrist and pulling our hands down between us.

“See, even then there was no judgment. Just curiosity.”

I swallowed and fought my natural inclination to drop my eyes again. The moment was intense, and I could feel the elevated beat of my heart in my temples as my eyes flickered to his lips and an idle thought of whether or not he was a good kisser sprinted through my head.

“My friendship is yours. You had it anyway.”

We stared at one another for longer than felt natural. Dustin dragging my attention back to his lips as he dragged his stubby thumbnail along his plump bottom lip in slow curved lines. The music stopped the quiet from taking over completely, but the ballads that were being belted from my crappy little radio didn’t drain the growing intensity between us. I knew I needed to do something to break the moment before we took a path we couldn’t come back from.

“Are you hungry?” I asked, rolling away and landing on my feet like a cat, the small dust cloud from the dry summer earth drifting around my ankles.

“You brought supplies this time?”

“Mostly a coincidence, but yes.” I grinned, heading to the cooler I kept in my trunk. I popped the lid open and glanced around the side of my trunk at him. “If you’re good, you can have ice cream for dessert.”

After a prompt like that Dustin didn’t take long to join me at the back of the car. He leaned over and checked all the bags, his smile growing with each new discovery. “Why do you have so much food in your car? Did I hijack you on your way home from the grocery store?”

I scratched my eyebrow thoughtfully and looked up at him. I’d told him so much of my life already, what I offered wasn’t a question of trusting him anymore. There was no point in hiding things like this. Each aspect he discovered was my life, and if he planned on being a friend, he’d discover all those little elements eventually.

“Megan Hern’s mom buys me groceries every week. She was my mom’s best friend, and she’s also my godmother. She knows my dad doesn’t have food in the house, so she bought me a mini fridge and she buys me groceries. She also employs me in her office over the summer and on some weekends… and after school when it’s needed. She gives me a place to stay when I need it, and a shoulder to cry on when it all gets a little too much.”

“Nice lady.”

“The best,” I agreed, reaching for the bread and cold cuts. “She also made my dad build me an en-suite bathroom.”

“You have your own private entrance, too?”

“It’s called my bedroom window,” I confirmed, squeezing mustard on a slice of bread and rubbing it against the other to cover both slices. I slapped some meat and cheese in between them and handed the final product to Dustin. He was watching me curiously. “What?”

“Why did she think you needed your own bathroom?”

“Does it matter?” Sheer embarrassment was what stopped me from answering that immediately. I didn’t make excuses for my father or his behavior, but I didn’t advertise how bad things got sometimes either.

“Not really,” he said, then took a bite of his sandwich and chewed. Grabbing a family pack of chips, he slipped them under his arm and grabbed two sodas while I fixed my own sandwich. “That’s not to say I’m not curious.”

I bought myself some time by shoving the sandwich into my mouth and packing everything back into the cooler. By the time I took a bite and swallowed he had one eyebrow raised.

“I, uh, walked in on something no kid should ever have to see.”

“Damn. Your dad and some chick?”

“Worse,” I said, heading back to the hood of my car and keeping his glance over the top. “His friend, and a drunk woman who was… uh, on her knees.”

“Shit.”

“My dad felt guilty. It was the only reason he agreed to Jen’s terms.”

“Well, she certainly had a point. How old were you when this happened?”

I blew all the air from my lungs, my cheeks ballooning as I did. Sliding my butt back up onto the hood of the car, I swung my legs around and leaned back against the windshield, taking the soda that Dustin offered as he settled onto his side. I really didn’t want to answer the question, but it wasn’t that big of a deal either. By that point, Megan and I had discovered her dad’s porn collection. I knew what was what and her mom had given us the talk already. I just hadn’t expected a viewing of oral before I knew the true meaning of the word.

“I was twelve.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, well, it was the first and last time. I wasn’t even the one who told Jen. She called about something unrelated, and Dad just assumed I’d told her. He promised it would never happen again. Of course, her reply was…” I changed my voice to a deeper Texan lilt. “You’re damn straight it ain’t never happening again, Jeffrey. You will build that girl her own bathroom, or I will make sure the right people know how that little girl is living.”

“Who were the right people?”

“Any cop or CPS person who would listen.”

“Why didn’t she go to the CPS?”

“I begged her not to. My dad is an asshole, but this is my home. If she’d called, there’s no telling where I would have ended up. It’s not like there are many people fostering here in Childress. I have one friend in the world—”

“Two,” he corrected with a grin.

I smiled and shook my head. “I don’t make friends easily, and I wanted to stay. So she promised she would protect me any way she could. She even offered to become a foster parent so she could take me in, but I refused. I couldn’t do that to them. She always goes above and beyond, though. When her momma got too old to drive and was put in the retirement village in Amarillo, she gave me this beast.”

I patted the hood of my car and smiled broadly. The day she’d given me the car was the day she’d given me my freedom and a way to escape. She was the only reason I’d learned how to drive. Megan and I had taken our test on the same day.

“Does your dad even know you have a car?”

I shook my head. “I park it behind the big barn in the yard. If he knew I had it, he’d send me on beer runs.”

“You’re sixteen.”

“He doesn’t care. He’d just tell Hank to sell it to me via proxy… for him.”

“Your dad’s a loser.”

I took a bite of my sandwich and shrugged, pulling my legs under me as I swallowed. “We don’t get to pick them.”

“Shit, I know that’s right. My dad is a hard-ass. He wants what’s best for me, but he wants me to follow Rett’s path, only do better. The better came only after Rett lost his startup ranch in a stupid lawsuit. Now I’m paying for his mistakes.”

“I’m not sure which is worse.”

“Well, I have Mom as a buffer, so I think you win that one.” He laughed quietly and opened the family bag of chips, offering them to me before digging in himself. “Do you remember your mom?”

“Of course I do. I was eight when she died.”

“What was she like?”

“Amazing,” I said, my lips curling into a smile. “I remember coming home from school, and when I got off the bus all the windows would be open, and she’d be playing her albums while she cleaned. When I walked through the door, she scooped me up, dancing and singing until my sides hurt from laughing. We’d make dinner for Dad together every night while we talked about what I’d learned at school. She was never content with just sitting still. On the weekends we’d always end up somewhere different, exploring the world around us. The farthest we ever went was Raton Pass. She wanted me to see the mountains.”

“She sounds amazing.”

I smiled and looked up at the boughs of the trees as I let the image of her form in my mind. Mom’s hair was dark like mine, and those green eyes were filled with laughter and love whenever she saw me. She had been beautiful in a way I knew I never could be. She’d been the one to give me a foundation of what love should be. My greatest fear was losing that completely and losing the ability to love anyone because I was too afraid of being hurt again.

“She was,” I said, blinking back into my reality. “And my dad was amazing when she was alive, too.”

We both ate in silence for a while. These thoughtful moments were growing into a habit when one of us said something profound—two thinkers, turning over their responses before speaking them aloud. In this case, I had nothing more to say on the issue, even though I could talk about my mom for hours with Jen. Their past together helped. Jen had been such good friends with my mom that she could fill in the blanks with some of the things that were a little foggy for me. Talking about her with other people—people who hadn’t known Mom—felt strange because so many of my memories of her included my dad, and people only ever remembered the man he was now. Most hadn’t thought about who he used to be.

I didn’t like to defend him; he was who he was now, but at the same time, talking about the man he had been felt as though I was being disloyal to Mom. The great part of him had died with her, and I’d grown up with what was left behind.

As darkness took over the small grove of trees, the sounds of the night grew louder, mingling with the melody of the music still playing quietly from my car. There were no town lights to see by out here, and the spattering of stars that mingled with the dwindling sunlight was faint from below the canopy of trees. This was always my favorite time of the evening—the changes of day to night when the sun handed off to the moon. Closing my eyes, I listened to the song playing and hummed along quietly, not quite confident enough to sing with someone else so close to me.

The two of us must have laid there for an hour or two before I felt his hand brush over my wrist, seconds before his fingers intertwined with mine. There was nothing more to say, but the touch made us both relax, making the silence even more comfortable than it had been. The years I’d been coming out here, even before I could drive, I was used to curling up against the trees and listening to the songs as they surrounded me. I’d never once thought about how nice this would be having company, and yet I found myself regretting something I never had until this moment, with this particular guy.

How did you miss something you’d never had before?