The Orphans of Race Point: A Novel (10 page)

“Gus, we can’t . . . not out here,” she protested. “It’s too cold, and besides, someone might see us.”

“It’s not, and they won’t. Not tonight.
I promise.
” He tossed her jacket in the sand, lifted her sweater over her head, and unhooked her bra, letting it fall. When he pulled her against his skin and looked intently into her face, both her shivering and her doubts dissipated. All she felt was his heat. “See? It’s magic. Now do you believe me?” he whispered.

Hallie unhooked his jeans and then took off her own. “I never believed in anything more.”

In the absolute darkness, the powerful presence of the surf was magnified. The sand, lifted by a strong gust of wind, stung their skin, but Gus’s promise held: on this night, nothing and no one could reach them. She was astonished by the suppleness of his body as it fitted itself against hers, by its smoothness and strength, by the tenderness that turned ravenous as they wrapped themselves in the sleeping bag and moved against each other.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he said when they were finished. “So . . . incredibly . . . beautiful.”

“You, too,” Hallie said, nestling into his shoulder. “So . . . incredibly . . . beautiful.”

Around three, when Gus was in a deep sleep, Hallie slipped out of the sleeping bag and found her clothes. The clouds had lifted and the sky was overcome with stars.

“Gus, look!” she said, shaking him. “It’s brighter than my church.”

“I still like your church better,” Gus said, as he roused himself, dressed, and joined her. “That was the first place we kissed.”

“Wrong. The first place we kissed was on Commercial Street.”

“I mean
really
kissed.” Gus grinned at her.

“The other kiss was real, too.” As if to prove it, Hallie leaned over and grazed her lips with his.

Gus closed his eyes. “Mmm . . . Honeysuckle.”

“What?”

“That’s what the street smelled like that day; it was everywhere,” he said. “Did you really think I forgot?”

Hallie laughed. “Honeysuckle and beach roses. The most amazing fragrance on earth.”

They’d stayed awake the rest of the night, savoring the surf, the sharp stars, the powerful sense of connection that had begun on the night his mother died. She didn’t understand it then— she
still
didn’t—but leaning against him, she already knew that nothing in her life would ever be more real.

“This just might be the best night of our lives,” she said. Then she remembered that Neil had said something similar the day they were caught in a rainstorm just after he’d told her about Gus’s “crush.”

“What about the first time we see Glacier National Park?” Gus said, pulling her back to the present as he held her tighter. “Or when our kids are born—little Hallett and the boy we’ll name anything but Gus.”

They’d tacitly believed all those things would happen, but neither of them had ever spoken about them before. Hallie felt thrilled—and just a little terrified. But before she could respond, Gus turned back into the eighteen-year-old boy he was. “Hell, what about your big prom next week?” he teased. “You really think that a sky full of stars and a sleeping bag are better than that?”

Hallie kissed him, feeling wistful. “I can’t believe it’s all happening so fast.”

Chapter 12

S
ince Gus could only afford one
prom, they had chosen hers in Provincetown. He and Neil had been joking about it for weeks.
All that money for what—to march around the gym in a monkey suit?

“Maybe we should hold the un-prom out on the beach,” Neil had suggested. “The three of us and Reggie.” He and Melissa had broken up three weeks earlier, after he’d vigorously denied cheating on her with Reggie Aluto. When he asked Reggie to the prom, it seemed like a slap at Melissa, and Hallie told him so.

“We were together for almost a whole year and she takes some stupid rumor over my word? If you ask me, that deserves a slap or two,” Neil blurted out, his color deepening.

Hallie had been almost physically taken aback by his vindictive tone. She suspected that there was more to it than the breakup. Though he had every reason to be excited about his future, Neil had been increasingly moody as the school year wound down. She was having trouble saying goodbye to friends, too, but it was different for Gus and Neil. Inseparable since they were five, they finished each other’s sentences, played straight man for each other’s jokes, and had rescued and defended each other more times than they could count. Though Gus was the orphan, Neil had always seemed to need him more.

Once when Neil was alone with Hallie at a party, he looked at Gus across the room. “Honestly, I don’t know who I’ll be without him. Pretty sad, isn’t it?”

Hallie rested her hand on his knee. “You’re going to be a student in one of the most exciting cities in the world.
That’s
who you’re going to be. Hell, by October, you’ll probably totally forget us.”

“Hallie
who
?” Neil joked, but there was no hiding the misery in his eyes. She wished they could have talked about it longer, but they were interrupted by Sean and Daisy, who had some news to share: Sean had decided to join the Air Force.

And now, before she could react to Neil’s harsh comment about Melissa, he quickly turned to Gus and changed the subject. “Once we get through the ape parade, it should be a cool night, though. Chad’s brother already picked up enough rum to light up the Point. Think you guys can get the Coke?”

W
hen the night came, Neil and
Reggie picked Hallie and Gus up at her house. Hallie was secretly relieved that her father had been called out on an emergency. Like all the other parents, he wanted to snap some pictures of them in their formal clothes and, undoubtedly, repeat his last-minute warnings about drinking and driving as well, but Hallie was grateful to avoid the sadness, and something else—
doubt
perhaps, that appeared in his eyes whenever he saw her with Gus these days. Hallie gave Gus a silk scarf she’d found in a vintage clothing store in town. Like her dress, it was almost the same color Wolf had named Race Point blue: midnight with a hint of cerulean. When Gus draped it around his neck, the effect was electric.

“That scarf is so cool!” Reggie gushed when she saw Gus. “You look like one of those guys in the old movies my grandmother used to watch—you know, Gary Cooper? And it makes your eyes look so—so brown.”

“Gus has nothing in common with Gary Cooper,” Neil said. “Except they both always play the good guy.”

Hallie felt sorry for Reggie, who seemed out of place with the established trio, but she also couldn’t help being protective of Neil. The tuxedo hung on his narrow frame; and no matter what he tried, he’d never managed to tame his wayward hair.

She pulled him into the bathroom and added a dab of gel to it. “Much better,” she said, standing back. “And next time I’ll find a scarf for you, too. A mix of green and brown like your eyes.”

“There are no next times after tonight, remember? This is it for our class,” Neil said. “Incredible dress, by the way. The color doesn’t do a thing for Gary Cooper out there, but it’s a knockout on you.”

When they rejoined Reggie and Gus in the kitchen, Neil filled a two-liter bottle with his trademark drink and cracked a joke. Hallie studied him covertly. Getting laughs and ratcheting up the energy in a room were what he did, but he seemed to be trying too hard.

They passed the bottle around in the car when they reached the school, and Hallie felt a surge of warmth pass through her.

“Okay, let’s get through the dancing and pictures so we can get to the real party on the beach,” Neil said. He stashed the bottle, and threw open the door. A slash of light cut across the backseat.

“Let’s have one before we go in,” Gus pulled a Camel from his pack. He and Hallie crossed the street to the monument where they met for a smoke every morning before Gus left for Eastham. Gus made a cup of his hands, lit the cigarette, and took the first drag. When he passed it to Hallie, it tasted like vanilla and salt. They could hear the music emanating from the gymnasium. It was Whitney Houston.
I wanna dance with somebody . . .

S
he and Gus didn’t spend much
time with Neil and Reggie, but during the slow songs, Hallie couldn’t help noticing how Neil’s lanky form was welded to Reggie’s curves. Melissa, who hadn’t found another date, was conspicuously absent.

“You know, this prom thing isn’t so bad,” Gus said, sensing Hallie’s wistful mood. “Holding you? Watching every guy in the place wish they were wearing my lucky blue scarf? I can deal with it.” He kissed her again.

A couple of hours later Neil clapped a hand on Gus’s shoulder. “I hate to interrupt this tender moment, bro, but we need to get the bonfire started. Provincetown’s finest will be out in full force as soon as this gig is over.” His eyes looked bleary, but bright at the same time.

“I can drive if you want,” Hallie offered, though she knew Neil never let anyone behind the wheel of his Jeep.

“We’re going to Race Point,” he said, leading them out to the parking lot. “I could get us there drunk, high, and blindfolded. And, lucky for you, I left my blindfold at home.”

Hallie thought briefly of her father, whose face clouded with dread when he cautioned her against getting in the car with anyone who had been drinking. She was acutely aware that she was his only child—
all he had
. She stopped short a few feet from the Jeep.

Sensing her hesitation, Gus took off his jacket and slung it over her shoulders protectively. “I think I left my tie behind, anyway. We’ll catch a ride with Sean and Daisy.”

Hallie reached into the pocket of Gus’s jacket and felt the bow tie he’d removed after the photos. Then she squeezed Gus’s hand.

“Whatever you say, Voodoo,” Neil said. After slamming the door of the Jeep, he roared toward the highway.

T
he party started off like so
many others. The joking and flirting around the crackling fire, the taste of rum and vanilla. Hallie only remembered having two of Neil’s drinks, but both were stronger than usual, particularly the second one. Hallie remembered Gus saying, “Dude, did you forget the Coke? Then he laughed as he brought the cup to his lips and passed it to her. She couldn’t count how many times a joint had come her way—or recall when Reggie had produced a bottle of tequila. Had she really drunk that, too? Again, she heard her father’s unwelcome voice:
There’s something about Cape kids. Maybe it’s the constant drumbeat of the ocean, like a clock reminding them how short the time is, or maybe it’s just the loneliness of the long winters . . . but they party more than anyone else
.

Hallie and Gus had always been an exception to that rule. They enjoyed the parties on the beach, the illicit gatherings in the homes of absent parents, but the only time they’d ever been close to drunk together had been that afternoon in the cemetery. Hallie had too much respect for her father, and Gus had his own reasons to fear drink. “Alcohol was what brought Codfish down,” he told her one night after his friends had teased him for passing on a bottle of vodka. “It killed my mother as surely as his hands did.”

Hallie nodded. “Mine, too,” she had said.

E
ventually couples began to drift into
the dunes, including Neil and Reggie. They were holding hands as they walked away. But when they returned, the easy rapport Hallie had noticed in the auditorium was gone. Neil disappeared down the beach for a walk, uncharacteristically alone. Hallie and Gus were about to go looking for him when they spotted him, ambling along the shoreline, with his pants rolled up to the knees.

“The water is awesome!” he yelled. “Who’s coming in?”

“You’re drunk. The tide is wicked strong, and I left my lifeguard certification card at home tonight,” Chad Mendoza called back to him. “How about you do something productive and make us some more drinks?”

Everyone laughed, including Neil, as the undertow unbalanced him, proving Chad’s point. He started up the beach. “Okay, okay. If you guys want booze, what can I say?”

While he mixed the last of the rum and Coke, Reggie gradually drifted to the periphery of the group. Her eyeliner had blurred; the hair that had been piled on top of her head in studied spirals collapsed; she leaned her knees together and stared out at the ocean, looking lonelier than ever.

Hallie guessed that it was around four, the hour when the water turned as gray as a black-and-white photograph of itself. After they finished their drinks, Gus, Neil, and some of the other boys worked to resuscitate the bonfire that had flamed out, refusing to surrender the night, or the years that had led them to it. Sean Mello’s mother had promised pancakes, eggs, and
linguiça
at seven, but the only thing Hallie hungered for was sleep. She sighed when someone produced a football. Gus kissed her before he went off to join the game.

Hallie was wobbly on her feet as she made her way toward Reggie. “Stupid heels,” she said, which made Daisy and Christina laugh. Then, realizing she was barefoot, Hallie giggled, too. She crossed the sand with as much dignity as she could muster and managed to lower herself onto the spot beside Reggie without toppling. Reggie stared into the fire, ignoring her.

“Any more of that tequila?” Hallie finally asked.

Reggie reached into the pocket of Neil’s tux jacket and produced the empty bottle. “Gallagher chugged it,” she said. She threw it into the bonfire, where it shattered.

“Is everything okay between you guys?” Hallie said. “You seemed to be getting along great back at the school.”

“Yeah, we’re already planning the wedding. Maybe you and Gus can live next door, and once a year we’ll play the swappy game. That’s one way to keep Gallagher around.”

“Excuse me?”
Stunned by the comment, Hallie attempted to scrabble to her feet, but she was too dizzy to stand. “Neil is like my brother. Has been since we were kids.”

“You really believe that, don’t you?” Reggie laughed so caustically that Daisy turned to look. “And you’re supposed to be the town genius.”

“I don’t know what your problem is, but I’m not listening to this,” Hallie said, again trying to rise. But this time Reggie tugged on her dress, easily pulling her back onto the sand.

“Wait. I didn’t mean to pick on you,” Reggie slurred, reaching for a Coke bottle that was wedged in the sand. “You’ve always been nice to me. Just jealous, I guess.”

“Well, don’t be. I’m not any kind of genius. It’s just that my dad was teaching me science and math when normal kids were watching cartoons.”

“I’m not jealous of your
mind.
You think I want to sit around doing calculus all day? Or go to freaking
Har
vard?”

“I’m not going to—” Hallie said.

“It’s Gus I want,” Reggie blurted out. “Just like my date has always wanted you. Pretty ironic, huh?”

“I remember you guys sharing snacks back in first grade,” Hallie said, attempting to bring the conversation back to neutral territory. “Everyone thought he had a crush on you.”

“My mother could never get it together to pack me a snack, so he would slip his into my cubby. Usually an orange, with the peel already slit, and a napkin in the bag. His mom thought of everything. It must have been his favorite fruit, but when I tried to give it back, he always claimed he didn’t like them.”

He
still
loved oranges, Hallie thought, remembering his smile as he split one in half and offered it to her in her kitchen just the day before.

“Anyway, I was the one with the crush, and it was never mutual. I mean, I believed it was. I didn’t think anyone could be as nice as Gus unless they wanted something in return. But turns out that’s just him. He’s even like that with Mavis Black at the A&P. Carrying her bags to the car. Giving a biscuit to that ugly little dog of hers.”

“Mavis still doesn’t trust him. Says he reminds her too much of Codfish.” Hallie glanced at Gus, wishing she’d never left the fire. “God, I hate people like that.”

Reggie nodded before she turned her attention back to the water. “You think Neil’s going to take us home soon?”

“I’m going to go get my cigarettes out of the car, and then I’ll talk to him,” Hallie said, then successfully launched herself onto her feet. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just a little tired. And, Hallie? Sorry for being such a bitch before.”

T
he strangely serious conversation had almost
made Hallie feel sober, but when she started to walk, she again felt dizzy. Seeing the way she swayed as she navigated the sand, Gus called after her.

“Just going to the car,” she yelled back. Then she pulled his jacket more closely around her, inhaling his clean scent and headed for the parking lot. She’d almost reached the car when she heard footsteps behind her.

She turned around, expecting Gus. But in the dawn light, another figure emerged.

She slowed down and waited. “Gallagher! Jeez, you scared me.”

“What are you trying to do—steal my car, and leave me and Gus behind?” Neil joked, panting as he caught up. It was bright enough that Hallie could have traced the map of his freckles.

“Don’t forget Reggie,” Hallie said.

“Reggie will find a way back, don’t worry. She’ll just flash those tits of hers like she always does. I’m sure somebody will be happy to take her home and tuck her in.”