The Summer the World Ended (26 page)

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Authors: Matthew S. Cox

BOOK: The Summer the World Ended
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“Hey,” said Kieran. “Don’t I get a goodbye?”

Kiss?

“Uh, sorry. I’m”―
pissed off at my dad―
“trying to get inside before I’m late.” She froze, both excited and petrified at the thought of him trying to touch her. “Thanks for dinner… hanging out was kinda fun.”

He exhaled through a grin. “Yeah. Next time I won’t be so easy on you.”

A thud inside the door made her turn scarlet.
No Dad! He’s talking about the game.
“You weren’t going easy. You were getting your ass kicked. I saw you getting a little pissed off. Wasn’t like at pool where you were trying to let me win.” Riley grinned.

Kieran scratched his head. “Yeah, so… Maybe we could co-op
The Last Outpost
next time? I’d rather be with you than against you.”

Riley’s brain took ‘against you’ the same way Dad’s probably did. Red lights and sirens went off in her head as awkwardness reached alarm levels. He seemed to feel the tension coursing through her rigid body and took a step back.

“You should go in. It’s getting late. See you Thursday?”

“Yeah.” She bit her lip and kept standing there.

He winked, whispering, “He’s watching us.”

Riley looked down at her sneakers. “Yeah.”

“See you soon?”

“Okay.” She ducked inside before she had to look at him again.

Dad was on the couch. He never sat on the couch, not once since she’d been there. Always, he’d been at his desk. Riley nudged the door closed behind her back. The sound of Kieran’s car starting made her twitch. Still, the AM radio and some woman on CNN debated in his bedroom.

“Oh, there you are.” Dad smiled over his shoulder at her, as casual as if he’d not noticed them outside.

Riley waited for the sound of Kieran driving away to grow silent, and stomped over.

“How was your date?”

She stuffed her hand in her jacket, rummaged, and threw the condoms at him. “I’m not a whore!”

He looked down at them, showing little reaction. “I just wanted you to be prepared.”

“Dad! How could you?” She balled her hands into fists. “You might as well have called me a megaslut in front of him.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset. It’s just a precaution.”

“We’re not fucking!” she screamed. For a moment she stood, breathing hard and trying not to hit him. “I haven’t even kissed a boy yet, Dad. I’m not a tramp. You think I’m easy? What the hell is wrong with you? It’s like you’re missing that filter that normal people have between their brain and doing stupid, embarrassing shit to the people they supposedly love.”

“Riley.” He reached, but she ducked away from his hand. “You’re that age. He’s that age… things can happen. I’m not saying that’s what you want, but in the heat of the moment…”

“I don’t
believe
you!” She backed up. “You don’t even know what it feels like!” She burst into tears and ran to her room, slamming the door before diving face-first into her pillow.

Flannel pajama pants tickled the tops of her feet as Riley shifted her weight from side to side by the kitchen counter the next morning. She used the last of the eggs, stretching them enough for two omelets by stirring in some potatoes and cheese. While she whisked the mess in hopes of creating something suitable to cook, Dad emerged from his room and went to set up the coffee maker.

“Still mad at me?”

“Yep.” She didn’t look up from the eggs.

“I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”


That’s
why I’m mad at you.” She tightened her grip on the bowl so it didn’t go flying.

“I did not mean to imply you were specifically going there to have sex with the boy, but I know how boys that age are. You’re at a vulnerable stage where you’re half little girl and half grown up, and you’ve also been through hell.”

Her whisking slowed.

“I’m not saying he
is
the type of boy to do so, but someone that knew your situation could exploit it and take advantage of you.”

She stopped beating the eggs. “They fell out onto his bed. He almost saw them. Do you have any idea how it would look if he found out I went to his house with a pocketful of condoms?” Riley pushed the eggs aside to keep tears from falling into them. “I’d never be able to show my face in this state.”

He flicked the switch on the coffee maker, which set to burbling. “That does make sense.”

“I promise I won’t do anything with him. Mom already gave me the talk. If I get pregnant, there goes school and any hope for a decent job. Besides, it’s not like boys even notice me anyway.”

He put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

She squirmed around and hugged him. “I’m still mad at you, but okay.”

“I trust you, Riley.” He let go and took a seat at the table.

Let’s see how he likes awkward.
“Thanks. I’ll bring him here when we decide to have sex the first time. I’ll feel safer with you in the next room.”

“There you go, sounding practical like your mother again.” He slurped coffee.

A twinge of nausea ripped through her belly.
Unreal.

“However, I doubt you are being serious. You’ll probably find a nice, secluded spot. The first time your mother and I―”

“Dad.” She slammed a pan down on the stove. “TMI.”

“… University had this tree …”

“Lalalalalalalala.” Riley stuck her fingers in her ears. “Not listening to parents-having-sex stories.”

She refused to look at him on her way to the stove with the bowl of egg-potato-cheese slop.

Riley crossed her ankles, heels on the coffee table and butt on the couch. She stared at the flaking polish on her toenails, now convinced it would chip or fall off before the nails grew out. Old nail polish seemed all of a sudden like a crummy thing to use as a shrine to remember Mom. Even if she had applied it before Mom passed away, she could come up with something better as a memorial. She heaved a sigh, and stared at the book in her lap. Whatever the Air Force was doing took an enormous crap on the satellite signal. Every channel she tried came in as blurry lines of rainbow distortion mixed with white bands. Dad rushed back to the military radio to poke Colonel Bering about it as soon as she’d asked.

“What’s that?” asked Dad, passing behind her.

“The Good Earth,” muttered Riley.

“Oh. Yeah, I had to read that in high school too.” He stopped. “You know I haven’t made contact with the school in town yet…”

“Yeah, it’s from the one I would’ve gone to in Jersey. I’m only reading it because Mom would’ve wanted me to.”

“You must be bored.” He chuckled. “TV still down?”

“Yeah.”

She stared at black smudges on the paper, barely aware they were even words, much less grasping what they meant. Dad drifted off to his room and got to typing on the computer. Late morning rolled into afternoon. Riley made it about fourteen pages in before she headed to the kitchen to assemble sandwiches for lunch. She plated one and brought it in to him. He worked the keyboard so fast, he had to be smashing gibberish rather than forming coherent lines of program code.

“Hungry?” She offered him a ham and cheese on wheat.

His eyes lit up like she’d brought filet and lobster tail. “Best daughter in the world.”

My life is over. At least Dad has a kitchen slave.
She looked down. “When is the internet coming?”

Dad held up a finger while chewing for a moment. “Should be next Wednesday.”

“Why’s it taking so long? There can’t be that many people out here trying to get to the web.”

He shrugged. “Probably just to be annoying. Maybe they had to order the antenna custom.”

“That’s not gonna mess with your, uhm… thing?” She pointed at the green radio box.

“Nope.” He ate another bite. “Wow, this is good.”

“It’s ham and cheese, Dad. El Mundane-o.”

“Different frequencies. They couldn’t possibly interfere.”

“‘Kay.” She trudged back to the sofa, picking at her sandwich while making a heroic effort to progress through the book.
This is stupid. Why can’t they just let us read stuff we like instead of a Chinese soap opera?

Riley shifted to lie sideways on the couch with her head on the arm. Minutes later, she was on her belly, propped up on her elbows. Twenty minutes after that, her back was on the floor with her legs hooked over the cushion, book hovering above her head.

A knock at the door preceded a heavy thud from Dad’s room. He rushed out with a 1911 pistol concealed by his right thigh.

“Jesus, Dad. Calm down.” She sat up, tucking a napkin in the book to mark her place.

He crept to the window, peering under the curtain. A thin sliver of daylight drew a line down his face over one eye.

“Oh. It’s that boy again.” He relaxed.

“Put the gun away.” She darted to the door, opening it and stepping outside onto warm, coarse stone. “Hey.”

Kieran’s white tee shirt and blue jeans had a new companion today: a denim jacket. Merely looking at it made her want to sweat. “Still wanna go to the movie theater?”

“Oh crap, it’s Thursday.”

“It’s cool if you can’t.”

She pushed the door open. “I forgot what day it was. Dad?”

“Yes?” Came from the bedroom.

“Can I go to the movies with Kieran?”
If you say something awkward again, I will scream.

“Is it important?”

She crept to the doorway by his room. “Why?”

He had the radio headset on again, a little paleness in his cheeks. “No reason. I’m worried. I’d like you to stay close to home for the next few days.”

The disappointment at being denied surprised her. Her hangdog expression said more than a begging whine could have hoped for.

“Fine. However”―Dad held up a finger―“you’re to be home before dinner. If anything weird happens, I want you home right away.” He stood, raising his voice. “Kieran?”

Riley sidestepped to allow him to stand in Dad’s doorway.

“Yes, sir?”

“I understand Riley wants to go to the movies with you.”

“The movie theater, yeah.”

She squinted at him, confused by the strange clarification.

“I want her home by six.”

Kieran nodded. “No problem.”

“Also.” Dad leaned back in his chair. “If anything out of the ordinary happens. Anything at all, I want you to bring her home right away. Don’t let the police or anything else get in your way.”

“Whoa. Dad…”

“Are you sure it’s okay Mr. McCullough? It’s just the movie theater, it’s not that important.”

Dad looked at Riley. “She needs to spend time with some people her own age. It’s”―he glanced at the SINCGARS―“probably just an old man being too cautious.”

Riley fidgeted with her jean shorts, hoping they weren’t
too
short for Dad. She braced for him making an awkward remark, but he said nothing. Once that fear passed, she smiled. “Thanks, Dad. I’ll be home on time.”

He tossed her an old digital watch.

“What’s that for?”

“So you know what time it is. People used to wear them before everyone had a cell phone.”

“I know what a watch is, Dad. Geez.” Riley attempted to put it on, but even at the smallest loop, it fell off.
Into the pocket it goes.

She led the way to Kieran’s car and hopped in before he’d made it halfway across the front yard, yelping at the touch of hot black leather on her bare legs. Kieran laughed and took off his jacket for her to use as a seat cover. Riley smiled, pushing herself up so he could slip it under her.

“Your old man seemed a bit weirder than usual today. He off his meds?”

Riley rolled her eyes. “He’s not
on
meds. He’s…”
They’ll try to get information out of you.
“Had a lot of work stuff lately. They want him to finish this software thing by the end of the week. He’s fried from working fourteen hours a day.”

“Oh. Yeah, my dad gets crazy too when they keep Tommy’s open long for special events.”

He drove the dirt road a lot faster than Riley would’ve dared in a pickup truck. She held on for dear life, even though the car took it well.

“Who’s Tommy?”

Kieran slowed for the turn onto NM 51. “The dude he bought the place from. Never bothered to change the sign. At first, there wasn’t the spare money for it, but then they made a running joke out of it. Whenever someone asks where Tommy is, they say he’ll be back in an hour.”

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