Trailer Trash (27 page)

“I’ve never been skiing in my life,” Cody said.

Nate laughed. “It’s not like they
only
keep your hands warm on the slopes, you know.”

Cody pulled one on, thinking how much better his walks to and from the Tomahawk would be now.

“I wanted to get you that leather jacket we talked about, but they were a bit out of my price range.”

“It’s okay. I like the coat I have anyway.” He set the gloves aside and put his hand on Nate’s knee, narrowing the distance between them. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Cody hesitated, feeling like he should say more. So much had happened in such a short amount of time, and he still wasn’t entirely sure what to believe. He was afraid to put too much faith in Nate, but he was pretty damn tired of being alone.

And God, at that moment, he loved Nate with a fierceness that took his breath away. He’d tried for so long to tell himself his feelings were a mistake, but now . . .

“We’ll have to be careful. Maybe it’s okay in other places, but not here. Not in Warren—”

“I know. But it’s only for five months. Once we graduate, we don’t have to spend another minute in this damn town.”

Cody chewed his lip, considering. “But what if—”

“Stop.” Nate leaned forward in his seat, bringing them closer together. Only a few inches kept his lips from Cody’s. He ran his hand up Cody’s arm and over his shoulder to brush his fingers along the curve of his neck. “I feel like this is the only thing I’ve thought about for months. You’re going to ask me if I’m sure, and I’m telling you once and for all: I am. If you don’t feel the same way—”

Cody put his fingers over Nate’s lips, stopping the words. It was hard to speak, but he made himself say, “I do.” Saying it out loud made his chest ache. It made him feel like he’d been given a magical Christmas after all. He found himself grinning, suddenly almost giddy. “I do.”

Nate’s answering smile was the most amazing thing Cody had ever seen. “That’s the only thing that matters to me.”

He pulled Cody forward and kissed him. It felt more natural than before, like Cody had been made for this one simple moment. Forget his mom and Warren and the Grove and everything about the world that seemed to keep him from being happy. Warren had done its worst, and it hadn’t been enough to keep Nate away.

It hadn’t beaten them.

The kiss started out sweet, but quickly grew in urgency. He wanted to undress Nate. To touch every bit of him. To feel Nate touch him back. Before long, there was no more room for thought. There was only the simple joy of pushing Nate down the hall, into the bedroom, onto Cody’s bed. Climbing on top of him, not daring to look into his eyes, because he wasn’t ready yet for what he might see there.

It was easier to let their bodies take over. To let clothes disappear. To burrow under the covers together, making their own heat as the snow fell outside. There was nothing but them pushing closer, sharing breath and space, letting their frantic moans be their only form of communication as their passion grew. They were naked, skin to skin, but Cody was suddenly afraid to ask for more. It was left to Nate to finally take Cody’s hand. To guide it between them. He moaned deep in his throat when Cody’s fingers finally closed around him, and then it was Cody’s turn to moan as Nate returned the favor, and they found a new level of bliss.

Nate used his free hand to grab a handful of Cody’s hair, pulling his head back so he could look into Cody’s eyes as they caressed each other. It may not have been the first time Cody’d had another boy in his bed, but it was the first time it’d felt this intimate. What he’d shared with Dusty had never been so intense, or so terrifying. Nate had stripped him bare in more ways than one, torn him open in some new, exquisite way. The pleasure was overwhelming, the knowledge that Nate was as lost as he was somehow humbling, and Cody tried to hold back. Tried to hold on.

As if there were any chance of succeeding.

Even after it was over, Nate didn’t pull away. He rolled them so he was on top, but he never stopped touching Cody, or kissing him, despite the mess between them. His voice was hushed, his tone reverent and sweet.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this. Or how long I’ve wanted it to happen, but I never knew what to say. I never knew how to make things right between us again. And then Logan— God, Cody, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry about Logan, and I’m sorry I was such an ass.”

Cody shook his head. Maybe it was wrong, but he didn’t want to think about Logan right now. “It’s okay.”

“It isn’t, though. I was so afraid, but I’m not now, I promise. I don’t care what else happens, as long as you’re with me. If Chicago’s too big, we’ll pick someplace else. I don’t care. Wherever you want to go—”

Cody held Nate close, shivering for no reason he could explain. “Don’t, Nate. Don’t make promises you might not want to keep.”

Nate chuckled in Cody’s ear. “To hell with that. I’ll make whatever promises I want. I love you. God, I love you so much. It feels good to finally say it.”

The truth of those words seemed to sink into Cody’s heart, warming him from the inside out. He couldn’t quite say them back—not because he didn’t feel the same way, but because it scared him too much. Instead, he said, “I think I understand your mom’s saying.”

Nate pulled back to look down into his eyes. “What?”

“It makes sense now. I know exactly what it means.” He couldn’t seem to stop smiling. “‘When it’s dark enough, you can see the stars.’ And I think I do.”

Nate shook his head and kissed Cody again. “I only see you.”

Those four words were the best Christmas gift anybody had ever given him.

Cody worked on December thirtieth, but Nate picked him up at the end of his shift.

“I promised my dad I wouldn’t go out tomorrow night,” Nate told him. “But he’ll be working all night, so you could come to my house, if you want.”

They were a lot more careful about fooling around at Nate’s than they were at Cody’s, because there was no telling when his dad might come walking in. But Nate had cable, and a huge TV to watch it on, and a pantry full of snacks. The limit on sexual activities aside, Nate’s house was a much better place to pass the time.

“Sounds good,” Cody said.

Nate pulled out of the Tomahawk’s parking lot, heading for Cody’s house. They’d have a couple of hours together before Nate had to be home for curfew, and the warm cab of the truck seemed thick with possibility as Nate drove. They’d spent a great deal of time since Christmas exploring all the ways they could use their hands and their mouths to make each other feel good, and Cody knew they were both thinking a lot more about the time they’d have alone in Cody’s bedroom tonight than about New Year’s Eve.

But any excitement Cody felt about the evening died when they drove under the train tracks. There, parked in front of his trailer as if it had never left, was his mom’s car.

Nate braked to a stop next to it, glancing Cody’s way. He’d never asked about her absence. Cody wasn’t sure if Nate realized she’d been gone, or if he simply assumed she was always at work.

“Do you still want me to come in?” Nate asked as he put the truck in park.

Cody’s heart was racing, his stomach queasy with nerves. The shifting light against their thin curtains told him his mom was in the living room, watching TV. “Maybe tonight’s not so good.”

“Okay.” Nate reached over and took his hand. They wouldn’t kiss here—even inside the truck, chances of being seen by the neighbors was too great—but their hands were low enough to be out of sight. Cody took comfort in the gentle pressure on his fingers. “You can call, if you want. Just not after ten.”

Cody nodded, hesitating, wanting to stay hidden in Nate’s truck forever. Maybe they could just turn around and leave. Head for the interstate and drive until they passed the state line. At that moment, he didn’t care which direction they went. It didn’t matter if they ended up in Utah or Colorado or Nebraska, just as long as it wasn’t Warren, Wyoming.

Yeah, Cody. You’ll get real far with five bucks in your pocket and half a tank of gas in Nate’s truck.

He squeezed Nate’s hand one last time before stepping out of the truck. He climbed the front steps slowly, trying to decide what he felt. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved to have her home, or just really angry that she’d been gone at all.

She didn’t turn when he came in. She must have showered as soon as she’d come home, because her hair was still half-wet. She was watching
Simon & Simon
, an open can of beer on the coffee table, a cigarette burning between her fingers.

“You’re home,” Cody said. Stating the obvious was the only thing he could manage.

She nodded, the motion seeming jerky and abrupt. “Yeah.” Her voice was tight, her shoulders tense, but whether she was angry or embarrassed or just didn’t want to talk to him, Cody could only guess. She leaned forward to ash her cigarette into the overflowing ashtray. “I was worried, but . . .” She cleared her throat awkwardly. “You did okay?”

Anger won out over relief, his calm snapping all at once. “‘Okay’? Yeah, if you mean having the power turned off and having to pay all the bills and running out of money and barely being able to afford some damn peanut butter doing ‘okay,’ then I guess I did. No thanks to you.”

She nodded again, the same abrupt motion as before. “Good.” Her voice was still strangely off. She took a final drag of her cigarette before grinding it out in the ashtray. “I didn’t mean for you to be left alone like that.”

He was tired of staring at the back of her head. He moved to the armchair, watching her carefully as he sat down. Her face was drawn and pale, the bags under her eyes more pronounced than usual. She didn’t look at him. She took out another cigarette and lit it. The quiver of the Bic’s flame gave away the shaking of her hands.

Cody gripped his knees, trying to keep his voice calm and level. “Where were you?”

“Forget it, all right? I just couldn’t get home and—”

“And you couldn’t call?”

“I did. A couple of times, actually, but you weren’t here.” She cleared her throat nervously. “Look, I’m sorry—”

“I don’t care if you’re sorry. I want to know why you couldn’t come home? Were you with a guy or something? Do you have a new boyfriend? You met somebody who was more important? What?”

She shook her head. Cleared her throat again. Scanned the ceiling as if searching for a way out. Finally said, “I, uh . . . I got picked up.”

“Picked up?” There were two possible meanings to that phrase, and Cody’s stomach clenched. He wasn’t sure which one was worse. “You mean you went somewhere with somebody you met? Is that what you mean? Climbed in with some trucker and decided to take off for a month?”

She blew smoke and ashed again, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. Her head jerked an inch to the side, indicating no, but only barely.

“You got arrested?”

Her lips narrowed. She stared at the ashtray. “I don’t want you to have to know about these things.”

He understood at last. She wasn’t angry. Or not at him, at any rate. She was humiliated, and still trying to protect him from a truth he’d worked hard to deny. “Mom,” he said, feeling a gentleness now he hadn’t expected, “I’m not a kid anymore.”

She nodded. “I know.” She wiped angrily at her eye, brushing a tear away before it could materialize. “I was glad I could tell them you were eighteen, that you could take care of yourself. They wanted to send child services, but I told them not to. I told them you were a good kid. That you were used to fending for yourself.”

He wasn’t sure anybody had ever referred to him as a “good kid” before. “What happened?”

She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “The car broke down on my way to work. I managed to pay for the tow and the repairs, but just barely. I didn’t have enough gas to get home. We were behind on the bills. And Christmas was coming—” She shook her head again. “I was just trying to earn a little extra cash.”

Cody closed his eyes, breathing deep, trying to tame his fierce hatred of Warren, Wyoming, and everything that drove his mom to such extremes. “You should have told me. I would have given you money—”

“You shouldn’t have to give me money.” She wiped her eye again. “You’re my son, and I should be able to at least keep the electricity on. I should be able to—”

“Stop.” His hands were shaking, and he clenched them between his knees. There was no point is forcing her to justify it. “So what happened?”

She scrubbed her cigarette out, but didn’t reach for a new one. She seemed to be breathing easier now that they were really talking. “I couldn’t afford bail, so I had to sit.” She chewed her lip. “If it’d been my first offense, he probably would have let me off with time served but—”

“What? What do you mean it wasn’t your first offense?”

“I got picked up the first time last year. Remember right before your junior year, when I was gone for a few days?”

“You told me the car broke down and you were staying with a friend.”

“I didn’t want you to know the truth.” She squeezed her temples with one hand. “That time, they gave me time served. More a warning than anything. But this time . . . I told them, I was just trying to pay the bills. He could see I wasn’t a junkie, so he took it easy on me.” She shrugged, but the motion was too stiff and forced to be casual. “He only gave me four weeks. They released me this morning, and some of the girls at the truck stop pitched in for gas so I could at least drive home.”