A Summer Nowhere

I think there's a part of everybody's brain that sometimes kicks in and keeps a person from doing or saying something so embarrassing that they might actually die from humiliation. Like sometimes when you have to pee really bad, your brain sends a signal to your bladder, telling it to tighten up because you're in public and if people saw you wet your pants, you'd never be able to go out in public again. People are so embarrassed about some things that they avoid anything that would cause it to happen.

Like me, for example.

I hated crying in front of people so much that I couldn't think of anything else I hated more. When I was six or seven, I went outside after it rained and slipped coming down the stairs of our front porch. When I landed on the edge of the concrete step, it cracked my tailbone and hurt so bad I felt like I couldn't breathe. And I didn't even cry, because my Mama and Daddy were outside with some of our neighbors and I didn't want anybody who hadn't seen me be born shed a tear. Sometimes, if I really felt like I'd burst if I didn't cry a little bit, I would let Mama be a witness. That was about it.

But here I was, sitting in the middle of Sam's bed, sobbing hysterically like a baby fighting against sleep.

It had been just over a week since I'd had dinner with James and his family at his country club and I had barely heard from him since. When Sam got tired of seeing me mope, she had Lynn take her down to Piggly Wiggly and cornered him to ask what was up. As soon as his shift was over, he called to ask if he could come talk to me, face to face. When he got there he said he liked me a lot and thought I was great, and if I wanted, we could still hook up every once in a while, but he thought it was stupid to keep dating me when his parents didn't even really want me in their house. To top it all off, he said he'd always felt a little bit guilty about being with me since he'd only gotten to know me in the first place because he wanted to get closer to Sam.

I had never wanted to die so much as I did then. But then I got to hear Sam's side of the story, about what was said when she spoke to him, and I wanted to die even more.

Before I could ask for an explanation of the awkward trip home, Sam started talking at warp speed until she got it all out.

She had gone straight to James' register so she could talk to him about me. She wanted to know what we'd been up to on our last date, because she knew me better than she knew herself and she knew that I didn't get sad over nothing. While he took a break to talk, he told her that his parents basically hated me and didn't think I was right for him, and deep down, he kinda always knew that they would and that he thought they were right, because even though he liked me, he didn't like me enough to choose me over his family. She said he was pissing her off because I was her best friend and I was perfect in every way imaginable and he'd be lucky to be with a girl like me. Then she said that he finally admitted that he'd only really been with me out of guilt over our talk in the woods by the cabin, but it was mostly because he thought that dating me would get him closer to her. James told her that I wasn't even his type, that he preferred tall blondes like her, and that I was a little bit chubby for his taste. He also said that he knew she and Chris wouldn't be together for much longer because Chris was such a bad influence and that she shouldn't be with somebody like Chris, she should be with someone like him.

Apparently, that was when she slapped him in the face. A manager saw it from inside the store and she booked it out of there as fast as she could, calling him every name in the book on her way to her mom's van.

I don't remember where the tears came in—somewhere between James saying he was only with me to get closer to her and him saying I was too chubby for him—but they started coming out and wouldn't stop. I felt like my throat was closing up and the only way I could get any breath in my lungs was to hyperventilate. My stomach cramped and started churning like a washing machine. There was a dull hum in my head that turned into a gentle throb that turned into a heavy pounding. Chris sat in a chair that Sam had in front of her dresser, his legs crossed and his right foot shaking back and forth like he had a big ball of angry energy he couldn't get out of himself. Gary stood at the foot of the bed, looking like a wildcat stuck in a cage. When he was good and mad, he liked to pace and Sam's room was too small and cluttered for him to do that.

I was a little bit furious that they were there to begin with because I didn't exactly need an audience in the state I was in.

Sam pulled on my arms until my legs were hanging off the edge of the bed. Then she urged me to lean forward so my head was between my knees. She rubbed my back and kept encouraging me to stop crying, that he wasn't worth it, that he was scum, that she hated him, that she wanted to kill him. I just wanted her to shut up so I could think, but I didn't even know what I was trying to think about. I could hear Sam fussing and Chris' foot shaking and Gary fuming in the corner and I couldn't hear my own head.

“I have to go outside.” I sucked in a gasp of air and bolted for the door, leaving them behind.

Everybody was sitting at the kitchen table, so instead of going straight at the end of the hall and heading out the back door towards the pasture like I normally would, I took a right and walked through the living room and out the front door. Crackers, the family's trusty Blue Heeler, circled around my feet and tried to herd me back onto the porch, but I plopped down in the grass underneath Sam's bedroom window and he just kinda laid in my lap, even though he weighed well over forty pounds.

It was the second time this had happened to me that summer: I like a boy, I think they like me, and as it turns out, they like someone else I know. If it weren't for the fact that I'd never thought anybody had ever liked me before, I might've been used to it. Just about every boy I knew was head over heels for Sam. Tons of boys at our school were nice to me just to see if I'd put in a good word for them. Nobody cared that she wasn't interested. Hell, nobody even cared that she had a boyfriend. And they certainly didn't care about whether or not I was available.

But Mike and James had been so much different. Sparks flew. I liked to think that I'd be able to tell if somebody was faking sparks, but what the hell did I know? Maybe I wouldn't know what sparks felt like if they'd bit me in the ass. Maybe I was the only one feeling sparks. Maybe I had a short in my electrical wiring. I didn't know. All I knew was that it felt horrible and it made me wonder how long I'd have to go through life being completely unwanted.

It took forever to catch my breath and once I finally managed to breathe sort of normally, I started listening to what they were saying inside.

“Why the fuck does he think we're breaking up?” Chris asked.

He was doing that thing where you wanted to yell, but you had to whisper, so you yelled in a whisper. Even so, I could still hear him.

“I don't know!” she hollered. “He's obviously crazy.”

“I'm gonna' kill him.” Gary said, then: “This is your fault, Sam.”

“Why is it my fault?” she whined.

“You had him come around, knowing full well that he wasn't interested in her. You got her hopes up and now she's heartbroken.” he chastised her.

“I didn't know!” she insisted. “He was so nice to her! I thought they were so sweet together. And she slept with him!”

“I can't believe I'm hearing this.” Gary growled.

“He was trying to make you jealous.” Chris explained, like it should have been so obvious. “It's what I would've done.”

I heard Sam let out a loud breath, followed by the sound of the mattress springs creaking, telling me that she'd thrown herself dramatically onto the bed.

“Where's he live, Chris?” Gary asked. “Ninth street, you said?”

“Don't go out there.” Sam groaned.

“His parents'll have you arrested.” Chris told him.

“I just wanna' know where he lives!” Gary yelled, making even me jump.

Crackers lifted his head and barked.

Maybe hearing the dog bark reminded them that maybe I was still within ear shot, but whatever the reason, their whispers got so quiet I couldn't hear anything. A minute later, I heard the front door open. Gary came pounding down the stairs and got a few feet down the sidewalk before turning around to look at me. I tried to smile, but it didn't turn out right and probably looked like a chimpanzee puffing out its cheeks. Instead of turning around and going out to his truck, Gary plopped down next to me and pulled me against him so that his arms were around my rib cage and my head rested comfortably on his chest. He squeezed me so tight that it felt like my lungs were being crushed, but for whatever reason, it felt good. I had to fight for air, but when I finally got it, there was more of it and it was fresher and felt better.

“I hate it when you cry.” he said, sounding like he was in pain.

“How do you know?” I had to laugh, even though it hurt my throat. “You've never seen me cry before.”

“I know, but I didn't know I'd hate it so much until it happened.” he shrugged.

I was gonna' tell him I was sorry, but he would've just told me not to be sorry, so I didn't say anything.

“Do you want me to drive you home?” he asked.

“No.” I sniffed, swallowing and wiping my eyes.

He waited a second before asking. “Do you want to stay here?”

“No.” I shook my head. “Not really.”

“Well,” he let out a big sigh and stood up, pulling me to my feet with him. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” I asked, following him dumbly.

“I don't know.” he shrugged.

I followed him to his pickup and climbed into the passenger seat. We drove around in silence for a while, staying in the country so I could breathe in the fresh air, and I stayed curled up in the seat, hugging my knees to my chest. After a little while, he pulled into his own driveway, but instead of stopping at the house, he drove out to the barn.

The place still smelled like fresh hay and Mane and Tail shampoo. We heard whinnies from everybody when we walked in and Tessa clacked her front hooves against the door to her stall like she was trying to tell us to hurry up and come pay attention to her. Instead of petting her on the head over the closed door, Gary grabbed a bit and rein from the peg board and brought it over to her. I watched him get her fitted and cross the barn again to retrieve a saddle. Gary opened her door and saddled her up, then walked her out the back toward the south pasture.

I followed, mostly because I didn't know what else to do, and watched Gary climb effortlessly onto her back.

“Well?” he asked, holding out his hand for me. “Come on.”

“Come on where?” I asked, blinking up at him. “Your Mama's gonna' kill you.”

“She's not.” He shook his head, laughing. “Tessa loves night runs.”

I let him hoist me up, surprised at how easy it was for him. Once I was seated firmly in front of him, Tessa acted like she knew just exactly what she was supposed to be doing. She trotted forward, like she was stretching her legs for a minute, and then once we got closer to the fence line, she broke off in a run, taking us around the pasture. I'd only ever ridden Tessa, and she'd only ever run with me on her once. Gary said that was because she was testing me and when I acted afraid, she stopped. But I was on her by myself then. This time she didn't seem to be worried about whether I was scared or not. Because she knew Gary was the boss, and he wasn't afraid of anything.

The warm wind whipped around my face, blowing my hair in a million different directions and making me wish I had pulled it all up on top of my head. But the air felt so nice and the faster we went, the cooler it got and the less stuffy and uptight I felt. I leaned my head back and looked up at the sky. The sun was almost completely down for the day and you could just start to see stars twinkling around. The longer we stayed out, the darker the sky got and the brighter the stars twinkled. After a good half a dozen laps, Tessa slowed to a halt by the back of the barn where Gary had taken her out.

“Alright, girl.” Gary chuckled. “It's bedtime for you.”

He grabbed me under my arms and lowered me to the ground before jumping off of Tessa's back, then we walked her back into the barn and put her up in her stall. I grabbed an apple from a crate by the door and let her eat it out of my hand in two bites.

“Home?” Gary asked.

“Uh-uh.” I shook my head, taking a deep breath and letting it out.

“Well, come on.” he laughed, walking out the back of the barn again.

“Where to now?” I asked, trailing behind him.

“I don't know.” he chuckled.

He dug a blanket from his truck and we took a long walk through the pasture. When we got to the fence, he waited for me to climb over before following. There were about a couple hundred yards between the center of the fence and where the woods started. The closer you got to Nanny's property, the thicker the woods were. But there was a nice spot of rolling hills on the Dulworth lot that nobody had ever gotten around to fencing off for the horses. Once we got to the top of a pretty decent hill, Gary spread out the blanket and we plopped down onto it.

I took the opportunity to pull my hair up on top of my head before I laid back and stared up at the sky.

“You ever think about what's up there?” I asked.

“No, I don't.” Gary said simply.

Gary didn't really think about much other than what was in front of him. It wasn't that he was stupid, he just wasn't a deep thinker. At least not that I knew of. His grades were okay; they were good enough for him to graduate, after all. I'd been in his room and I was pretty sure he didn't own a single book. But I knew he was smart. It was just that he was smart in a practical way. He had common sense and street smarts and he could figure out how to get you in and out of the deep woods before you even realized you were lost. But I'd never pegged him for being a dreamer, so I wasn't even sure why I'd asked.

“Why not?” I asked, since I'd brought up the subject.

“Because I know what's up there.” he shrugged. “Stars. Planets. Galaxies.”

“Satellites.” I offered. “Aliens.”

“Aliens, Jobie?” he laughed. “Really?”

“You never know.” I said. “Maybe we're the aliens and the people we think are our astronauts are really just landing on other people's planets and one day they're going to abduct what they think is an alien, but...”

“I get it.” he laughed, silently begging me to stop. “Okay.”

Suddenly, I felt really overwhelmed.

“If I had known about what today was gonna' do to me, I think I would've gotten drunk.” I said, feeling my throat tighten up again. “I don't know how to deal with today.”

“I know how to deal with today.” he said, and I could see his jaw twitching without even looking at his face. “I go downtown and strangle that little son of a bitch.”

“That's really nice of you to offer, but...” I started.

“I'm serious.” he cut me off. “I hate that he did that to you. You didn't deserve that.”

I felt tears prick at the backs of my eyes again and didn't even bother trying to keep them from falling. They streamed out the outer corners and down my temples, some of the drops going into my ears.

“I would do whatever I could to make sure you're never sad again.” he said suddenly, like he'd been waiting forever to say it out loud.

“What?” I asked, my throat clogging.

“Are you crying?” he asked, turning his head to look at me. “I'm sorry, Jobie. Please don't cry.”

“What did you just say?” I asked, pulling up the shoulders of my shirt to wipe the water out of my ears.

“When?” he asked, swallowing.

“Just a second ago.” I told him. “What did you say?”

“I said I'd do whatever I could so you weren't ever sad again.” he admitted. “I mean...”

“What do you mean?” I asked. “Everybody gets sad, Gary.”

“I know, but...”

“Don't you ever get sad?” I asked, seriously wondering now.

I'd seen Gary happy and I'd seen Gary angry. I'd seen him nervous, although that was rare, and I'd seen him mildly irritated. But I'd never seen him sad. At least not that I could remember. Or maybe I'd just never noticed.

“Of course I get sad, Jobie.” He rolled his eyes. “But it's different with you.”

“Why?” I pressed.

“Because I hate seeing you upset.” he said, rolling over on his side and propping his head up on his hand. “It just eats at my nerves.”

“It irritates you?” I asked.

“No!” he groaned. “I mean, sometimes. Not like that, okay? I'm not irritated with you. I'm irritated that somebody could upset you in any way. It's not right. You're too perfect.”

“Ugh.” I scoffed. “Now you sound like Sam.”

“Well maybe Sam's not wrong about you.” He said. “Did you ever think about that?”

“Gary.” I rolled my eyes. “Sam is almost never right. She thinks every boy I meet is in love with me. And look what happens when she thinks that.”

“Maybe some of them are.” Gary argued.

“She even thinks you're in love with me.” I laughed. “How ridiculous is that?”

I waited for him to laugh or something, but I could see his face under the moonlight, and he wasn't the least bit amused. He closed his eyes for a second before opening them and directing them toward the sky, like he was asking for divine guidance. I thought at first he was praying for the lord to help him not kill Sam for saying something so stupid. But when he still hadn't said anything after several seconds, I sat up.

“How ridiculous is that?” I repeated.

I waited for him to say “It's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard.” or “That's insane.” or maybe even “How could I be in love with you? That's disgusting.” but he just looked up at me like I'd caught him doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing and he was trying to figure out how to explain himself.

“Gary!” I yelled. “Say something!”

“I'm gonna' kill her.” he sighed.

I let out a breath of relief, but had to suck it back in.

“I wanted to tell you when I was ready.” he groaned, sitting up and resting his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. “Jesus Christ.”

“What?” I asked, losing all the feeling in my face.

He fell back onto the ground and let out another groan, but he actually sounded like a wounded animal. Like maybe his appendix had burst and he was delirious from the pain and couldn't take it anymore. He had his hands over his face and I could barely hear him ramble on.

“I was gonna' tell you when I thought the time was right and this is not the right time.” he said, muffled. “I was just waiting. I don't know what I was waiting for. But every time I thought about telling you, you had something else going on. First with the old asshole and then with this new asshole and I just couldn't tell you and I'm gonna' kill her!”

I sat wide eyed, looking down at him as he appeared to be losing his mind out loud.

“Is it impossible for her to keep her mouth shut for ten seconds? Is it that hard for her to mind her own damn business?” he asked. Who he was asking I wasn't sure. “I just needed time. I told her a million fucking times that I just needed time! And I would tell you myself. Jesus Christ!”

“Are you drunk?” I asked.

“What?” he asked, lifting his hands from his face and looking at me like I was the crazy one. “No, I'm not drunk. Are you serious?”

“I don't know.” I shrugged. “You sound crazy.”

“I probably am!” he groaned, yelling into his hands as he covered his face again.

“Why didn't you tell me?” I asked, then felt stupid for asking.

“Did you not just hear a word I said?” he asked.

“Yeah, I know. Sorry.” I mumbled. “How long as Sam known?”

He looked like he was counting in his head.

“Since,” he paused to think, “Forever.”

“Since forever.” I repeated.

He nodded, sitting up once more, looking dizzy. “I'm gonna' kill her.”

“Stop saying that.” I insisted, scrubbing my eyes with the backs of my hands.

“Please don't cry.” he begged, reaching for my hands.

“I'm not crying!” I swatted him away like a fly. “I'm trying to think.”

“Sorry.” he mumbled.

I didn't have a clue what was going on. I felt like if I could've managed to fall asleep, I'd wake up and it would be a normal day and none of this would have ever happened. But I could see Gary in front of me as clear as day—or night, in this case—and he wasn't a figment of my imagination. I thought about all the fun we'd had together. He was my best friend just as much as Sam was. He was a loyal friend, always ready to defend me when I needed defending and he never failed to call me out on my own shit. Had that always been because he had a crush on me, or was he just genuinely that good? He behaved the same way with Sam, and even her two younger sisters, so it couldn't be special treatment for me. I tried to imagine him as anything more than my friend and then I had to nip that in the bud real quick. He had nice arms and nice lips and nice eyes and I wasn't ready to think about all of that.

“Please say something.” he begged. “Tell me what to do, Jobie.”

I took a deep breath and let it out. I felt like—and felt like I looked like—a semi truck had hit me right in the face. I knew exactly what I wanted to say, but I didn't know why I wanted to say it or even if I should.

“First,” I told him, “I need a ride back to Sam's house.”

He nodded solemnly and pulled himself to his feet. I helped him fold the blanket and he handed it to me.

“Then,” I added, chewing on my bottom lip and trying to muster up the courage. “I guess if you're not busy tomorrow night, we could go out or something.”

He looked at me for a minute, like he was suspicious of me.

“Are you being serious?” he asked.

I nodded.

“You're not messing with me?” he pressed.

I shook my head.

“Alright.” he said, slowly. He was still looking at me like I was gonna' point at him and laugh at any second now.

But obviously I didn't.