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Authors: Marie Sexton

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BOOK: Trailer Trash
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Nate’s stomach fluttered a bit at the thought, and he felt a familiar twinge of arousal in his groin.

It made him uncomfortable, realizing he was thinking about his best friend in such a blatantly sexual way. Cody wasn’t supposed to make him feel like this. Cody wasn’t supposed to turn him on. But watching Cody now, seeing the tender curve of his neck, the smooth line where it met his shoulder, Nate had the undeniable urge to run his fingertips over that bit of skin. He wanted to explore it with his lips and his tongue, to see if Cody made the same sounds in real life as he did in Nate’s dream.

The possibility made him breathless.

“Mr. Bradford!”

Mrs. Simmons had the annoying habit of addressing everybody by their last names, so Nate didn’t realize the teacher was addressing him until the student next to him kicked his chair and hissed, “That’s you, dumbass!”

Nate jumped. Mrs. Simmons was looking right at him, her fists on her expansive hips and her eyebrows up.

“Yes?” Nate felt his cheeks burning. He risked a glance Cody’s way. Cody’s eyes were determinedly glued to his textbook. Logan, on the other hand, was staring at Nate with obvious puzzlement and more than a bit of amusement. “I’m sorry. What was the question?”

“We’re talking about the Servicemen’s Readjustment Act of 1944, otherwise known as . . .”

“Uh, the GI Bill?”

“And what was the purpose of this bill?”

“To help soldiers returning from the war buy houses and go to college and, uh, stuff like that.”

“Yes, ‘stuff like that.’” Mrs. Simmons almost smiled. “You don’t pay attention in class, but at least I know you did the reading.”

She moved on, letting Nate off the hook.

And Nate went back to studying the perfect curve of Cody’s neck.

Nate ventured out to the field on Friday night, but once again found the wagon empty. He spent the rest of the evening watching TV with his dad. He checked the field again three times on Saturday, but Cody wasn’t there.

Where the hell could he be? He wouldn’t go to the rock quarry or the mine. He wasn’t in the field. It was possible he was sitting at home by himself, but Nate dismissed that possibility, not because it was unlikely, but because he hoped it was wrong. After all, he still had no idea where Cody lived, so the only chance he had of finding him was if Cody was somewhere other than home.

It wasn’t until he was driving back to Orange Grove and spotted Logan’s Camaro in the parking lot of the bowling alley that Nate realized how stupid he’d been. Hadn’t Cody told him the bowling alley was the only hangout he’d go to? And if Logan was here, Cody probably was too.

Nate tried not to be nervous as he stepped inside.

The bowling alley smelled like every bowling alley Nate had ever been in, except more so, the foul odors condensed in the relatively small space. Sweaty feet, disinfectant spray, and stale beer, undercut by the tantalizing aroma of hamburgers and the acrid tang of lots of cigarette smoke. There were only three lanes, two of them being used by a group of adults. A chain of empty beer bottles lined the counter behind them. To the right of the door was the shoe rental counter. The employee working it took one look at Nate and went back to reading his
Mad
magazine. To Nate’s left was the source of the more pleasant aromas—a food counter, with a pegboard menu boasting burgers, hot dogs, and chili-cheese fries. And just past that, Nate found the other high school students. They were lounging around a half-dozen tables that trailed from the makeshift café to the half-assed arcade in the corner.

Nate approached slowly, his heart sinking. He couldn’t picture Cody here, and his eyes skipped from face to face, confirming what he’d already suspected. No Cody. The few people who bothered to notice his arrival quickly dismissed him.

All but one.

Logan maintained eye contact, and Nate shifted from one foot to the other, debating. The obvious answer was just to ask Logan, but Logan wasn’t alone. Larry Lucero, Amy Prescott, and Jimmy Riordan were with him. Their conversation died as Nate edged closer.

“You look a bit lost,” Logan said, although his tone was friendly enough.

“Yeah.” Nate glanced at the others, wishing they’d all find something else to occupy their attention, but their eyes were glued on him. “I’m looking for Cody.”

Larry laughed. Not a nice laugh, either. It was full of mockery. “He ain’t here.”

Amy and Jimmy glanced sideways at him. Logan ignored him completely.

“I can see that,” Nate said. “I just . . . I couldn’t think where else he’d be—”

“He doesn’t come here much anymore,” Amy said.

“Not since we all learned he’s a fag.” That was Larry again. And just as before, Amy and Jimmy threw awkward glares his way while Logan ignored him.

“Amy’s right,” Jimmy said. “Cody doesn’t really hang out here. Not since—”

Larry laughed again. “Not since Dusty—”

Amy jumped to her feet, staring at Larry. “Shut up. Jesus, you’re such a pig. What’s Cody ever done to you?”

Larry only laughed, and Nate focused on Logan again. “Do you know where he lives?”

“He lives in the fucking Hole, man,” Larry crowed. “How trashy can you get?”

Logan finally turned his icy gaze Larry’s way. “Not like that’s his fault.”

“Guess his mom doesn’t make enough as a lizard.”

“That ain’t his fault either.”

“Everything else about him is, though.”

Nate cleared his throat. He hated how soft and weak his voice sounded when he spoke. “Like what?”

The triumphant smile on Larry’s face was enough to turn Nate’s stomach. “Like that he’s a fag.”

Nate sighed. “I get it. You don’t like him. That doesn’t mean—”

“No, man.” This time, it was Jimmy who spoke, not with Larry’s gleeful hatred, but in a tone that was almost apologetic. “He’s right. Cody’s— Well, he’s a homo. He’s into guys. Everybody knows it.”

“Yeah?” Logan said, suddenly pushing to his feet. “So what?”

Jimmy shrank a bit, backing down in front of Logan’s obvious threat, but Larry wasn’t so easily cowed. “‘So’? He probably has AIDS, the fucking queer.”

Logan shook his head. “Jesus, you’re an ignorant hick, you know that?”

“I don’t believe it, anyway,” Jimmy said without meeting anybody’s eyes. “I mean, I’ve hung out with him a bit. We had slumber parties when we were kids, and he never came on to me.”

Larry rolled his eyes. “Right. And God knows no fag could resist you, right?”

Jimmy shrugged, trying to look unconcerned, although he looked more embarrassed than anything.

“Who cares anyway?” Logan asked.

They were all standing now, moving away from the table, closing in on each other. The other teenagers in the bowling alley began to look their way, like sharks sensing blood in the water.

“You telling me you don’t care that he takes it up the ass?” Larry asked.

Logan shrugged. “That’s what I’m telling you, yeah. Like Amy said, he’s never done anything to you, has he? And it’s nobody else’s business anyway.”

Amy looked pleased that Logan agreed with her. Larry, on the other hand, rolled his eyes. “Gimme a break, Logan. You just like thinking you’re better than us.”

“Better than you, at any rate.” Larry opened his mouth to speak, but Logan rushed on before Larry could interrupt. “You know what? My whole life, my Aunt Nadine’s lived with a chick. We call her Aunt Mabel. And if you ask my mom, she says Nadine and Mabel are just good friends. But I’ll tell you what, I’ve been to their house, and they only have one bedroom.”

“They’re dykes!” Larry said.

“Maybe they are, but so what? They’re cool, man. And I’d rather have them than my Uncle Frank. He’s a drunk, and he beats on my aunt, and he beats on my cousins, and he harasses all the waitresses at work. Everybody knows he fucks around with any woman whose pants he can get into. So am I supposed to be proud of my good ol’ Uncle Frank and ashamed of my aunts because they like each other more than they like guys?”

For a moment, nobody spoke. There was only the
wocka-wocka-wocka
of the Pac-Man game behind them. Everybody else was watching now, edging closer, trying to hear what was being said. Jimmy was the one who broke the silence.

“I didn’t know that about Frank.” His voice was low, pitched so the others couldn’t hear. “I didn’t know he hit Lorraine.”

Nate couldn’t help but think he was intentionally missing Logan’s point.

“So you like your dyke aunts,” Larry said, apparently unwilling to let the point go. He allowed his voice carry, seemingly pleased at the crowd that was drawing nearer. “You probably think about them while you’re jacking off. You probably love imagining them in bed together.”

Logan took a step toward Larry, and Jimmy and Nate both put a hand out at the same time to stop him, although Nate doubted they would have been able to hold him if he decided to really make a move.

“Or maybe you don’t,” Larry went on. “Maybe you think about Cody. Maybe you’re a fag too.”

Logan relaxed, his anger fading into a snide smirk. “You know I’m not gay. I fucked your sister.” He glanced at the group of onlookers. “Of course, who here hasn’t?”

The grin fell from Larry’s face.

“Everybody’s fucked her.” Logan hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “Even Nate here’s fucked her.”

Nate shifted on his feet, wishing Logan hadn’t dragged him into it. Maybe he should speak up and say it wasn’t true, but Logan didn’t give him a chance.

“Everybody’s fucked her. Everybody except Cody, and you. And let’s face it—she’d put out for Cody too, if he bothered to take her up on it.” Logan’s smile was mean, his eyes hard. “Must be frustrating, being the only guy in town she won’t spread her legs for.”

Larry flew at Logan. It was lucky Jimmy was both faster and bigger. Several other guys moved in too, some helping to hold Larry back, some putting their hands against Logan’s chest, as if that would have been enough to stop him. Larry was flailing, swearing, screaming, spit flying from his mouth as he fought to get to Logan, and Logan just stood there and smiled. He shook his head, chuckling.

“You’re an idiot.” And with that, he turned on his heel and headed for the door. “You coming, Nate?” he called over his shoulder.

Nate glanced once at Larry, who was still blustering, his face so red Nate half wondered if the guy was having a heart attack, and Jimmy, trying to talk him down, telling him not to listen to Logan, and all the other teenagers who were staring, starting to put their heads together and whisper.

He didn’t fit in here any better than he did with the Orange Grove clique.

“I’m coming.”

He didn’t quite run, but he walked as fast as he could, trying to catch up with Logan’s long strides as he followed him out of the bowling alley, into the cold Wyoming night.

Logan was still chuckling when he finally stopped on the far side of the narrow parking lot. He leaned against the driver’s side door of his Camaro and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

“Why’d you do that?” Nate asked.

“Do what?” Logan shook one smoke free and offered the pack to Nate.

Nate shook his head. He hadn’t smoked much since he’d lost touch with Cody. “Why’d you mouth off to Larry like that? And why’d you stick up for Cody?”

Logan lit his cigarette and pocketed the lighter. He blew smoke and tucked his thumbs into the front pockets of his jeans, looking at Nate like he was the biggest fool he’d ever seen.

Hell, maybe he was.

“’Cause Larry’s an ignorant prick, and ’cause Cody doesn’t deserve that shit.” He took another drag off his cigarette, eyeing Nate through the smoke. “Unless maybe you think he does.”

It sounded like a question. “No. Of course he doesn’t.” Nate wrapped his jacket tighter around himself. Cars drove past, their lights wedging between the vehicles parked at the bowling alley, but he could see Logan’s expression well enough, thanks to the streetlights. “But is all that true?”

Logan crossed his arms, squinting at Nate. “All what?”

“The stuff he said.”

Logan shook his head. “Nuh-uh. I ain’t gonna make it that easy on you. You got a question, you ask it. Then I’ll decide if I’m going to answer.”

Nate sighed, thinking back through the entire thing. “He said Cody lived in the Hole.”

“Well, you know where Cody lives, right?”

“No.” He was glad it was dark so Logan couldn’t see how much it pained him to admit it. “He never let me see. He always had me meet him at the gas station.”

Logan’s lips turned down. Not quite a frown, but a look of puzzlement. “Huh.”

“What do they mean, anyway? What’s the Hole?”

Logan scuffed the toe of his boot against the concrete, considering. Finally, he pointed down the road. “You’re talking about that gas station on the corner of Front and El Paso, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. You know the trailer park just down the street from there?”

“Yes.”

“And have you ever driven through that park?”

Nate’s stomach sank, seeing where the conversation was headed. “You mean, under the tracks?”

“Right. You’ve seen what’s there?”

“A dirt lot.”

“And a handful of the rattiest trailers in town.”

BOOK: Trailer Trash
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