Fallout (26 page)

WHETHER OR NOT

I want to love Kyle, I do. I have

been avoiding Matt, and he doesn’t

know why. He’s hurt and I should

confess, but I have no clue how

to say good-bye. All I know

is that the only splinter of happiness

I find in each day is when Kyle

is near me. Life is currently a vortex.

The incident with Erica exploded

completely. Human shrapnel

flew. Our mutual caseworker,

Mrs. Shreeveport, is still trying

to sort things out. She yanked

us both out of there immediately.

Ah, but just where to put us?

There was only one foster care

opening—so many messed-up kids,

so few places for them. Erica posed

the biggest risk right then. What to

do with a possible sexual offender?

Now, though, I hear they may send

her back to Darla and Phil’s.

Ashante is too scared to tell

what really happened. Poor little kid.

So begins the end of innocence.

AND ME?

Too bad, so sad. Nowhere else close

to send me, I ended up back with my dad,

at least for now. I can’t stand it here.

I mean, at least foster homes are required

to maintain a certain level of cleanliness.

Not like Dad’s deteriorating single-wide

on a dirt road near a dairy farm at the far

edge of town. Everything here is layered

in tobacco smoke and cow shit dust

and carries a lingering scent of human

piss because neither Dad nor his latest lay,

Kortni, knows how to use a toilet brush.

My first instinct upon arrival was to pick

up the litter on the floor, toss the food,

molding in the fridge. Then it struck me.

Why do any of that? If I do, they’ll expect it,

maybe think God returned me from foster

care to become their designated housekeeper.

I hope I’m not here long enough for the trash

to gross me out completely. Bad enough

I have to lay my head on the same old pillow

I used when Zoe still lived here with us.

It was clean then. Everything was—Zoe

reigned as scrub queen. Something to do

with the little bugs she imagined everywhere,

including under her skin. Meth addicts

pick those nonexistent bugs into sores.

Pretty sure Dad doesn’t do meth anymore.

You can’t eat like he does or wear such

a big belly while dancing with the monster.

He cleaned up when Grandma Jean

and Grandpa Carl took him to court over me.

Guess, win or lose, he decided to stay ice free.

Noticed I didn’t say bad habit free. He chugs

cheap beer, and the smell of weed

has become a daily welcome home

in the two weeks since I’ve been back.

He even asked if I wanted a hit once, but the idea

of smoking with my dad seemed messed up.

I hate that he made that offer to me. Hate

that he doesn’t think better of me.

Hate him for not really wanting me here.

ONE OKAY THING

About being here. Neither Dad

nor Kortni really cares about

when, if, or how I come or go.

They barely take notice at all.

Other than school, I’m free.

The main problem is transportation.

It’s a long way to civilization,

if you can call anything about

Bakersfield civilized. To find

something to do on this Sunday

morning, I need a ride into town.

Dad is still sleeping off too much

Saturday night fun. I should

call Matt. Have him come get

me, apologize for being so cold.

He’s such a nice guy, at least

for the most part. I mean, pretty

much every guy is about feeling

you up when he can, right?

But Matt’s never pushed me to go

all the way. Never once raised

his voice to me. Never once

made me feel less because

of where I came from. And

somehow that makes him boring.

SO INSTEAD

Of calling Matt, when I pick up

the phone, the numbers I punch

in add up to Kyle.
B-r-r-r-n-g.

Why am I doing this?
B-r-r-n-g.

He won’t be home anyway.

B-r-r-n-g.
He’s out having fun—

H-hello?
Definitely Kyle on

the other end. Was he sleeping?

“Oh, hey. It’s me. Did I wake you

up?” The long pause that follows makes

me wonder, “Do you know who this is?”

Of course.
Wide awake now.

What’s up? Everything okay?

Nerves strike suddenly, try to

shut me up. “I-I’m fine. I just

have some free time today and …”

And what, Summer? “And thought

maybe you could pick me up….”

Bad choice of words. “Uh, come

get me. Maybe hang out for

a while? I’m at my dad’s, and

claustrophobia is making me insane.”

THERE, SAID IT

This time there is no hesitation.

Thought you’d never ask. Give

me about a half hour, okay?

Over and out. It’s a very long

thirty minutes, watching for dust

clouds blowing this direction.

Finally, though, a big puff of gray

signals Kyle’s F-250 is coming

this way. My pulse picks up speed.

I leave a note:
Went into town

with a friend. Back before dark.

Not sure why I bother. Dad

and Kortni will probably

just be rousing around then.

Hey, maybe they’re vampires.

On the more likely chance that

they’re not, I grab my hoodie

and head out the door. No need

for verbal explanations when

a written one will do. Kyle skids

his truck to a stop in the gravel.

He slides across the seat,

opens the passenger door.

Get in
, he says.
Where to?

FAIR QUESTION

After all, this was my idea.

But I don’t have a destination

in mind. I shrug. “Anywhere.”

He grins.
Anywhere it is.

He starts the truck, which

hums gently. Well-tuned.

We bump down the dirt

track, turn onto the blacktop

away from town, toward

the state park. The road

winds along the Kern River.

Ever rafted this section?

I shake my head. “Heard

it’s fast through here.” I don’t

mention my water paranoia.

I’ll take you in the spring.

It’s more than fast. It’s ball-

shrinking crazy. And cold.

I laugh. “I’ll take your word

for it.” I look over at him,

can’t help but stare at his

incredible physique. Only

problem is, he catches me.

What? Something wrong?

“No.” Is he kidding? Just

being here so close to him

makes everything, “Perfect.”

It’s close to an invitation.

Kyle takes the opportunity

to ask,
So what got into you?

I understand the question,

but pretend I don’t. “What do

you mean? Got into me how?”

We’ve been traveling at

a good clip. He slows down

now.
Why did you call me?

A direct question deserves

an equally direct answer.

“I wanted to be with you.”

Well, if that’s the case …

His hand finds my thigh,

pulls.
Come over here.