Burned (5 page)

Justin Took Off His Heimet

Climbed off his quad.

Tiffany did likewise.

The others--Brent and Melina on quad #2, Derek solo on #3--

remained astraddle.

Hey, Fat,
tittered Tiffany,

Watcha doing all the way out here?

I stood, .22 by my side, taking deviant satisfaction as her eyes went wide.

Justin surveyed the rifle.

Target shootin, huh?

My voice tried to stick behind my tonsils, but somehow I

choked out a solid, "Uh-huh."

He slithered over.

You any good with that thing?

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I nodded, heart hiccuping at his proximity. "Good

enough, I guess."

He moved behind me, stood way

too close.
Okay, then. Show me.

I couldn't, not with my

hands trembling like saplings in a summer zephyr.

Justin noticed, whispered in my ear.

Im
not making you nervous, am I?

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He WasMaking Tiffany Nervous

Or maybe I was.

She shifted from foot to foot.
C'mon, Justin.

Wait. I want to see her shoot.

Okay, I'd show him.

I took two steps forward, sighted in, steadied . . .

Dänin! Six clean shots. Not bad. . . .

Here it came. The old

"for a girl" addendum.

But no, he said instead,

Can I have a try?

It was the most attention

he'd ever paid to me.

I could take more. "Why not?"

Hey, Tiff. Set up the cans.

She was irritated, and it showed, but she did as instructed. Justin took aim . . .

Shitfire! One out of six.

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As the others climbed off their quads, I suggested ways to improve his performance.

Three out offive. Right on!

Now everyone wanted a turn. Everyone, that

is, except for Tiffany.

Come on, Tijf. Give it a try.

You know I hate guns.

They're stupid.
She stood off to one side, simmering.

Fuck you, bitch. This isfun.

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We Had Fun

For an hour maybe

more. For once, I

lost

track of time, found

I didn't care what

time it was, not in this amazing

space

I was somehow in.

After a while, I didn't

even

feel like the odd

girl

out of this decidedly

in

clique. In fact, I felt more "in"

clique. In fact, I felt more ' off by herself, carrying

on

about firearm

danger

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and her personal

safety.

I didn't feel

bad about being with boys, and thinldng not quite

good

thoughts about them.

My heart insisted it wasn't

wrong

that they weren't Mormon, either, though my head said it wasn't exactly

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I Barely Flinched

When Brent pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lit one for Melina, another for himself.

"Hey," squealed Tiffany,

"what about me?"

Justin handed me the rifle and fished inside his pocket for his own nicotine stash.

He gave one to Tiffany, offered one to me.

Cigarettes are high on the list of Latter-Day sins.

The smoke, hanging like smog, made me queasy. So

why was I tempted to join in?

Watching them inhale

poisonous fumes, I shook

my head. But maybe I looked

envious, because Derek pulled

closer.
Have you ever tried?

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Don't be stupid!
said

Tiffany.
Don't you know?

She's a Mormon.

The word seethed from her mouth like spittle.

Derek measured me with cool blue eyes.

Could havefooled me.

I didn't know Mormon

girls were so pretty.

Okay, it was a line, but it put me in a heady new space.

No one had ever called

me pretty before.

Not even my mom and dad.

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Derek Wasn't Exactly Justin

Not pinup gorgeous or hot bod built, but he wasn't bad:

Tall

around

6'2, slender, with black

coffee

hair

and

vivid

blue

eyes

that

could

pierce

you

through.

His hands were soft.

I discovered that when he brushed my cheek.

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So what's a nice Mormon

girl like you doing in a place like this?

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We Laughed at the Old Joke

And talked and talked about nothing much, while the others kept their lips busy in much

more interesting ways.

Lightweight conversation with a guy of Derek's

caliber, clique-wise, was way beyond my

loveliest fantasy.

What was I doing here?

With them? With him?

And why his sudden interest in me? I mean, we weren't

exactly strangers, but we'd never exactly been friends, either.

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Looking back, I guess it was kind of stränge.

At least for me, who'd

never been that close to a boy before.

But I liked him.

I liked his optimism, his easy way with words.

Most of all, I liked

how he made me feel

that I--Pattvn

Von Straften--

mattered.

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After a While

Brent pulled Melina to her feet, dragged her off for a private minute or ten.

Justin winked at Tiffany.
Sounds like the right idea to me.

I had a general idea of what they had in mind. Envy jolted.

You like him, huh?

I gulped down the truth and said

simply, "He's not mine to like."

That doesn't stop most people.

"I'm not most people, Derek."

Even if I did, in fact, like him.

So I'ue noticed.

With a drift of tobacco and sun-scented

skin, he moved very close to me.

What I can't figure out. . .

My heart tap-danced as he slipped his arm around my Shoulder.
is why I never really

noticed
you
hefore.

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With His Arm Around Me

I asked what happened to Carmen, the girl he'd been linked with practically forever.

He shrugged.
Don't know.

Guess we grew apart.

Then he asked,
What about you?

I knew what he meant, but not

how to respond. So I said,

"What about me . . . what?"

He smiled and his hand

toyed with my hair.
Any good

Mormon guys on your line?

On my line? I had to laugh.

"No way," I admitted.

"I don't think I've got the right bait."

Derek turned my face so I

couldn't avoid his eyes.

Don't seil yourseif short, Pattyn.

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Oh God! This was crazy.

I thought he just might try to kiss me, when Tiffany yelled,

Shit! It's almost four. My

mom is going to kill me.

Let's go, you guysl

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Almost Four!

I'd never stayed

out in the desert

this long, and I

had a good half-

hour walk home.

What would my own

mom say? Anything?

I didn't want to think about Dad at all, although he and Johnnie were no doubt

pretty

cozy by then.

Luckily

(happily),

Derek

offered to save me some

time:
Can

I give you a ride?

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No Spare Heimet

Derek promised to go slow and told me to hang on tight.

Rifle in my right hand,

I wrapped my left around his waist, leaned my face against his back.

If I turned my head,

I could hear his heartbeat, a steady drum, unlike my

own hummingbird pulse.

It was all too incredible, like a scene from a movie or a page from a book, one

you read again and again.

My head swam with the scent of him, the promise of him,

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and I never once stopped to think that being with him

could mean the end of Pattyn as I knew her up until that day.

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He Dropped Me Off

Right where the dirt trail

segued into pavement.

I'll see you Monday, okay?

Was that a promise?

A generic blow-off?

I watched him motor

off, then started for home.

Slowly. Thinking. Trying to process the weight of my day.

For once, I didn't feel like an outcast, a major loser.

Whether or not Derek

ever spoke to me again,

I had fit in with the in crowd, if only for a while.

Not only that, but one of the in crowd had put his arm around me.

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Maybe almost kissed me.

And I would have let him.

So what did that make me?

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When I Got Home

None of that mattered.

Reality

rushed in around me.

Crushed

me, like the watery

weight of the deepest sea.

Jackie ran out to warn

me Dad had already

drowned

himself in Johnnie WB,

Mom had asked where to find me, and the kids were yelling for me. I went inside, all remnants of the newfound me

smothered.

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Later On

I lay listening to the music of sleep. Inhale. Exhale.

A symphony of breathing, hearty, steady, frail.

I shimmied out of bed, tiptoed to the bathroom.

Listening for movement,

I sat a moment in the gloom.

Then I turned on the light above the narrow mirror, needing to analyze the face that appeared.

Funny, but I rarely

studied my reflection, rarely allovved myself

such tedious inspection.

But someone--a boy--

had liked my face and I liked that he liked it.

Flad I tumbled from grace?

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What had he seen that

I'd
always missed before?

Plain amber eyes. Straight auburn hair.

Was there something more?

Something indefinable, that somehow made me pretty, like how brilliant neon lights

cheer the dirty streets of a city?

All I saw in the mirror's depths was a spatter of freckles, sharp angles, too much flesh here, not enough

there, imperfect teeth, dry skin, and tangles.

So what had he seen in me?

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