THE PATIO IS bigger than I imagined, surrounded by huge agave plants and other cacti. A group of low, wooden Adirondack chairs encircle a clay chiminea with a fire blazing behind the black metal grillwork. Smoke funnels out the narrow top and disappears into the night sky filled with stars. Slightly dulled by city lights, the starlight isn’t as clear as it is farther out in the desert where the Milky Way is often visible.
I take a seat across from Boone, with Shari between us on my right and Ray to my left. The chair’s cushions are thick and more comfortable than they looked. Settling in, I pull my knees up, rest my feet on the edge of the seat, and lean against the back.
Inhaling the smoke-tinged night air, I relax a bit more. While the rest of the group chats, I zone out, tipping my head back to stare at the sky, looking for constellations I can recognize. Our conversation in the kitchen was odd, and I feel a sense of guilt for going out with other men before dating him. I didn’t mean to blurt out about my boring dates. I hate the hurt that I saw in his eyes; the beautiful sparkling green seemed to dull as he processed my confession. I don’t want to hurt him.
When I’m around him, I turn into a fumbler of word salad, often blurting out what I’m thinking without a filter. I blame his jawline. It distracts me. Without the silly mustache, he’s too handsome for his own good. And apparently his good looks short circuit my brain.
I’ve let him become a distraction. Imagining living in a house like this and hanging out with friends like them pulls me away from finding answers. After the summer, I think I should move to Albuquerque. Maybe Santa Fe. Put some distance between me and Roswell.
And most importantly, some distance between me and Boone Santos. It’s for the best. Once he finds out my past, he’ll run. I’m not sure I could handle another person leaving me. Better to beat him to it.
“Okay, who wants to go first?” Shari claps her hands together.
“How about you? It’s your game.” Boone takes a sip of his tumbler of water.
“Good idea since Lucy’s never played before. It’s easy. Pick a conspiracy theory and defend it like you believe it.” She grins at me.
“Anything?” I ask.
“We try to avoid the really horrible ones like Holocaust denial or anything involving kids dying. Too depressing, not to mention too distasteful. Think more Big Foot or Loch Ness—”
Laughing, Ray interrupts her. “Aliens living among us is always a good choice.”
Boone huffs. “Not very original.”
“I want to go easy on the new girl.” Ray gives me a friendly smile. I like him. If I met him in an alley, I’d probably turn and walk away based on his big size and the neck tattoos. He’s a good lesson about not judging a book by its cover or a man by his shaved head.
“Fine, I’ll start,” Boone says, leaning forward and setting his glass on the wide arm of his chair. “I believe the Earth is flat.”
“You did that one last time,” Shari whines.
“But Lucy wasn’t here, so it’s new to her.” He gives me a wink.
“Why that one?” I ask.
“I like thinking of Earth being a floating pancake in space. A defined edge instead of a globe appeals to me. Plus, I really enjoy the idea of being able to fall off if you got too close to the end.”
“That’s absurd,” I say, my eyes bugging out at the thought he really buys into this.
“Why? What about the saying ‘I’d follow you to the ends of the Earth?’ Four corners and ends of the Earth are common expressions. Circles have no ends or corners. Or beginning. A circle is infinite. Round and round we go, never ending. Flat Earth means if we can reach the edge, we can hurl ourselves off into space.”
My mouth hangs open. I totally believe he would jump off the planet if given the option.
“Seriously? There’s nothing out there. Space is an empty, silent void,” I say, supporting his nihilism.
“Is that your conspiracy of choice, Lucy? That we’re alone in the universe?” Boone picks up his glass and raises it like he’s toasting me. “Good one. Now defend it.”
Shitshitshitshit.
I’ve stepped right into the one area I wanted to avoid. No way am I defending extraterrestrial life.
“No, I was going to pick the kraken.” I’m totally lying through my teeth.
“Really?” Ray asks. “Go on.”
“Uh . . .” I pause to give myself time to think of any facts I can think of related to the kraken. To buy more time, I sip my cider.
“I like the dramatic pause, but you’ve got to defend the kraken. Game rules,” Shari encourages me.
“Well, we’ve only explored five percent of the ocean. It’s totally possible that what we think of as the giant squid is a smaller relative to the kraken.” I start to buy into what I’m saying, and sit more upright. “How tall is a giant squid? A couple of stories, fully extended? Why couldn’t there be even larger creatures of a similar design hiding in the depths of the ocean? We have drawings and legends from ancient sailors showing huge tentacles. Why shouldn’t we believe them?”
Ray begins clapping. “Totally convinced me. Unlike Boone. Bro, if Earth was flat, the lunar eclipse wouldn’t happen. Way too easily disproven and dismissed.”
Shari and I laugh at Ray’s crossed wrists and buzzer noise disqualifying Boone.
A sore loser, Boone glowers at him.
“Okay, okay, no gloating,” Shari admonishes Ray. “Excellent job, Lucy. Now my turn!”
She taps her fingers against her bottle of beer.
“You’re going to pick the moon landing, so get on with it.” Boone sips his water. I don’t know if he’s not drinking because he drove or if he never drinks. And if he doesn’t drink, is it because he’s in recovery or for some other reason? Not that it’s any of my business.
“I was, but now I’m picking dinosaurs.” Replying to his teasing, she sticks her tongue out. “T-Rex, specifically.”
“Oh, I’ve heard this one. How it’s an invention in some sort of paleontological aspect of world domination and the bones are fake.” I slap my hand over my mouth. “Sorry. Go on.”
Boone’s warm laughter breaks the silence first, then Ray follows.
“I’m so sorry,” I mumble to Shari, too embarrassed to even glance at Ray.
“You’re really good at this,” Boone says, drawing my attention.
Even in the low light from the fire, his green eyes spark with amusement. “If we’re ever playing on a team, I’m calling dibs on you.”
“No fair,” Shari groans. “I knew her first. If anyone can call dibs, it should be me.”
My eyes flash to Boone. Doesn’t she know he’s been eating breakfast with me for months? Although why would he tell his sister about the new waitress at the diner south of town? They must have better things to chat about than who’s serving his pancakes.
He tips his head to the side as if he’s debating revealing our connection. “Uh, if that’s the basis for dibs, I win.”
Shari’s head turns back and forth like she’s watching tennis. “How?”
Catching the hint of betrayal in her voice, I jump in to explain. “I’m a waitress at the Rig out on the road to Lovington. Boone eats breakfast there most weekday mornings.”
Shari’s forehead wrinkles and she asks her brother, “What are you doing way out there?”
He gives her a quick glance. “Working.”
Her face scrunches up and she opens her mouth to say something but must change her mind because she presses her lips together with a shake of her head.
“I heard y’all have really good chicken fried steak,” Ray says, either ignoring or breaking the growing tension. “Kind of out of the way, but a man’s gotta eat.”
“You should come down. I’m there during the week for breakfast and lunch. The coffee’s not the best, but food’s good.” I pretend Shari and Boone aren’t having a silent conversation mostly with their eyes and eyebrows.
“Sure, if we ever find ourselves on our way to Lovington, we’ll swing by.” Shari smiles at me, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
Confused, I open my mouth to ask about Boone working in the oil fields, but Ray speaks first.
“Now I’m craving some huevos.”
Shari laughs. “We just ate.”
“I’m a growing boy.” Patting his flat stomach, he gives Shari a flirty smile. “Gotta keep up my strength to keep up with you.”
“Sister,” Boone mutters into his glass.
“Okay, on that note. Should we declare Lucy tonight’s winner and call it a night?” Shari brings the conversation back to safer waters. She’s really good at changing direction and managing people. I wonder why she’s wasting her talents slinging burgers.
I guess the same could be said for me, but I bet she hasn’t spent her life chasing a ghost.
After saying our good-byes, Boone and I step out the front door together. His dirty truck is parked behind my car on the street. The majority of the evening we were fine, but something changed once we finished dinner. His reaction to me dating and his sister’s strange response to Boone being in the oil fields every morning have put a weird spin on the end of the night.
We walk to the sidewalk in silence. I count the steps to keep from blurting out a question. At number twenty-three, he cracks the awkward silence by clearing his throat.
At the sound, I stop and face him, slapping a smile on my face while my insides churn. “That was fun.”
It’s a partial lie, but for someone who doesn’t get out much—or never—I had fun tonight.
“Really?” He laughs, clearly disbelieving me.
“For the most part. It’s always a little awkward being the new kid in a group that knows each other well. I was honest about the good food and enjoying the evening.”
Studying me, he purses his lips and lowers his eyebrows.
I chuckle at his ridiculous face. Either he has no ego or his ego is so huge, he doesn’t care about looking weird. Proof: the mustache.
“I was about to apologize for my sister, but evidently no apology is needed if you had a nice time.”
“What did she do? I thought she was a great host.”
He hums in response but doesn’t speak. “Nothing, apparently.”
“Well, I have an early morning. As you know.” I add the last part hoping he’ll bring up the weirdness about him eating breakfast at the Rig. Or the change in his mood. Or ask to come over. Something, anything to keep me from what I’m about to do.
He doesn’t bite. Not buying what I’m trying to sell.
If that’s the right metaphor. I’m not sure what I’m selling. We’re standing at the curb and the location feels ripe for a goodnight kiss. Yet it’s like we’re strangers.
When he still doesn’t say anything, I fill the silence. “Guess I’ll see you in the morning.”
His steady gaze makes my skin feel hot, so I dig around in my bag to give myself something to do other than stand here and be awkward.
“Lucy, what’s going on?” His hand brushes my arm.
“Nothing.” I try to swallow down the words rising in my throat.
“Is it my reaction to you dating other guys?” He steps in front of me on the sidewalk, blocking my escape unless I jump the hedge.
Yes. “No.”
“I shouldn’t assume we’re exclusive, but I guess I have. We’ve only gone out a few times. When you were telling Shari about all the boring dates you’ve gone on, first I thought you meant me. Which I was going to call bullshit on, but then it hit me you meant other men. I’m not a big enough jerk to think I’m your first anything, but something came over me. Jealousy, I guess. Although I’ve never felt it before. There’s something different about you. And I like it. Because I like you. A lot.”
At his heartfelt apology and declaration, alarms start going off in my head where I should feel joy or happiness. Because I’m a weirdo.
“I’m not really the relationship kind of girl. So no worries.” My words sound like a lame line from bad advice column on playing hard to get. “Remember our conversation about not being the kind of people who fall in love?”
Throwing his words back at him hit my target. I hate myself.
He narrows his eyes at me, looking for the lie. “What have we been doing?”
“Hanging out? Playing tourist?” I ask where I should be giving an answer, using his technique against him.
“Right. Just hanging out, seeing the sights with me as your tour guide.” He grinds out the word between clenched teeth.
No. No. No. I want to cling to him and make him swear he’ll never leave me because if I fall in love and he leaves me alone, I’ll break into dust and fade into nothing.
Walking away now is the only option to protect myself and to save him from the truth of my reality.
“Thanks for taking me to the caverns and sledding in White Sands. I loved it.” I try to swallow down the word bile burning up my throat, but there’s no stopping what’s going to come out. “But I’m not sure it’s smart if we go out anymore. Things are getting . . . complicated.”
My words hit him like I shouted them. He jerks back. “What?”
I have to get out of here before I tell him everything. He’ll laugh at me. How can I tell him the conspiracy theories they make fun of are the structure I’ve built my life around? Even if I doubt aliens exist or crashed north of here, I’ve spent years of my life looking for answers instead of living. Rather than expose my truth, I’m going to walk away.
Lightning flashes in a giant thundercloud to the west. “Storm’s coming.”
“I don’t give a fuck about the weather. You’re insane if you think I’m going to let you walk away without giving me a chance.” He’s pissed and I don’t blame him.
When I don’t say anything, he whispers, “Lucy.”
Turning away, I stare at the wind moving through the leaves.
He sighs loudly, the sound full of exasperation. “I forgot I have meetings out of town next week. I won’t make it to the Rig.”
That’s a first. I can’t think of a single day over the past five months he didn’t show up for breakfast.
It’s better to make a clean cut than to open up the big box of cray-cray inside of me. Attempting to put on a casual, everything’s fine façade, I swing my car keys off my finger. “Okay. Have a nice night, Boone.”
“Lucy.”
I pause at the sound of his low whisper, so quiet I’m not sure he meant for me to hear it. Only when I hear his footsteps walking back to the house do I run to my car, barely making it before the tears fall and a sob chokes me.