A Killing in the Valley (32 page)

“They are normal people,” Luke corrected her. “Anyway, that’s not what the problem would be for Steven.”

“What would it be, then?” she asked.

“Sports,” he answered emphatically. “Steven’s a first-class athlete, almost an All-American in volleyball. Sports is one of the most important parts of his life. In some fundamental ways, it defines him. And that is the one area in American life where homosexuality is still taboo.”

“What about Martina Navratilova?” Kate countered. “Billie Jean King? Babe Didrikson was one of the greatest athletes of the century.”

“They were women.”

As a former jock, he knew about this from the inside. Excepting figure skaters and gymnasts, being gay was unacceptable in the male sports world. “It’s easier for women, they’re more accepting, and their sexuality doesn’t define them like it does for men,” he explained.

“But there are out men athletes,” she persisted. “I’ve read about them.”

“Only after their playing days are over. And for every individual one who’s had the guts to come out, there are a hundred who haven’t. The pressure’s too great, there’s too much social stigma. He’d be ostracized from the people he’s closest to. Someday it’ll be easier, but it isn’t yet.”

She slumped in her chair. “That’s awful.”

“So was segregation. And that’s over now, at least officially.”

A disturbing thought came to her mind. “Do you think Tyler knows that Steven’s gay, or bi?”

Luke shook his head forcefully. “You’re jumping the gun, Kate. We have no knowledge that Steven is anything other than one hundred percent straight. Don’t jump slick with this,” he cautioned her. “It’s too explosive.”

Kate was a tangle of nerves as she drove home. Maybe she was wrong. Just because Steven had worked with gay men didn’t mean he was one.

It was the way the paramedics had reacted—Levine particularly—that had forced this feeling. There was something there, her instincts screamed that at her. And her gut was usually right.

She mentally added an item to her agenda: tomorrow, after she cleaned up her backload, she would put feelers out into Santa Barbara’s gay community. Maybe someone would remember Steven from that day.

Going down that road would be dangerous, particularly if Steven resisted, which she assumed he would, since he had never said anything about his sexuality that would prompt such a perception. She would have to be careful how she handled this, because it could blow up in their faces. But she felt she had to, even though she hated the idea of outing someone who was resisting it. But if that turned out to be their only choice, she would do it. She would lean on Luke to push Steven, until he had to consent. It might ruin his reputation, but it might also be the only way to save him.

“O
KAY, PEOPLE, YOU’VE TORTURED
this enough for one night. That’s a wrap.”

The voice—a campy parody of dramatic weariness—was that of Mr. Dolan, who was directing
The Wizard of Oz,
the high school’s fall/winter production. “Ten days till dress rehearsal and we’re still not polished in act one, let alone the rest of it,” he lamented. “To quote the bard, ‘I fear for the fate of the republic.’”

“Wasn’t it Abraham Lincoln who said that?” chirped one of the sophomore bit players. Everyone connected with the play, cast and crew, was on stage, awaiting instructions.

“This is drama, not U.S. history, Amos,” Dolan rebuked the cheeky offender. “And who gives a flying bagel? You guys have not gotten with the program, and time is fleeting.” He clapped his hands briskly. “I know tomorrow’s Saturday…”

A chorus of groans rose up as one voice.

“…but we need to tame this savage beast. I want to rehearse the poppy field scene tomorrow evening. I won’t keep you long, I promise. Now get out of here, you nuts.”

Outside, the kids started drifting away in small groups, heading for their cars and the street. Cassie Portsmouth, who was playing the Cowardly Lion, ran over to Sophia.

“Saturday night!” she bitched. “Can you believe that dork? What does he think, he owns us?”

Sophia laughed. “He does own us, until the play’s over.”

“He doesn’t have to rub it in, though. Listen. Do you have an early curfew?”

Cassie was one of the kids Sophia had become friends with since she had started play rehearsal. Her social life had taken a strong uptick in the past month. She didn’t moan about her old life up north as much anymore.

“I don’t have a curfew,” Sophia told her. “If I’m going to be out late I check in with my mom, but she’s cool about it.” Her mother treated her like an adult, another reason she was feeling better about her new life.

“Cool,” Cassie said. “So you want to go to a party?”

“Where?”

“I.V. Some big party out at UCSB. There’ll be a bunch of neat guys.”

Meaning college boys instead of high school ones. Sophia wasn’t impressed with most of the boys in her class; none of her friends were. They were still boys. She and the other senior girls were women.

“Sure,” she replied. “I’m always up for a good party.”

As Cassie started to talk to some other kids, Sophia noticed Tina hovering on the fringes of the group. Tina smiled when their eyes met.

“Hey, Cassie,” Sophia called.

Cassie turned back to her.

“Can Tina come? We were going to hang out.”

This wasn’t true, but Sophia knew that Tina would appreciate being included. Unlike most of the Latinas in school, she was reaching out across ethnic boundaries for friends, Sophia being the main one so far. The two newcomers had been spending a lot of time together.

Cassie shrugged. “I guess.” In a lower voice, she cautioned Sophia, “There aren’t going to be many Chicanos. You think she’ll be okay with that?”

“I don’t think she cares,” Sophia answered, “but I’ll ask her.”

Tina was more than agreeable—the alternative was going home and watching television with her family. Maybe she would meet a nice Latino boy. She didn’t know any boys who went to college.

“I’ll say I’m going to be with you,” she told Sophia, as she dialed her number on Sophia’s cell phone. Tina’s mother had grudgingly accepted Tina’s relationship with Sophia, who was a serious girl and a hard studier (so Tina told her mother). “I just won’t tell them where.”

Over the past month, Tina had been lying to her mother regularly about her out-of-school activities. She didn’t like doing it, but she had no choice if she wanted any life of her own. Her mother was too strict. She didn’t understand the difference between their old country and their new one.

“Yes, Mommy,” she said in Spanish. “With Sophia. For the play. I may stay over with her, is that okay?” She listened for a moment, making a face for Sophia’s benefit. “I will be careful, Mommy. I’ll call you later.”

She hung up and handed the phone back to Sophia. “You don’t know how lucky you are, the freedom your mother gives you. It’s like I’m still eight years old, living in a house with a tin roof.”

Cassie handed Sophia a slip of paper. “Here’s the address. My cell number’s on there, in case you get lost. See you there.”

“See you,” Sophia answered. She and Tina hopped into her car and headed for the freeway.

The party house, which had been rented by half a dozen male UCSB students, was a couple blocks from the beach, so the ocean breezes and smells blew across the lawn and through the open doors and windows, where a hundred college kids and a couple dozen recruits from various local high schools were jammed up against each other. Outside, two kegs were going, and bottles of vodka and tequila were being passed around. Ditto cigarettes. Marijuana was being smoked as well, but not as openly—the local police were active cruisers in Isla Vista on the weekends. Music blasted out of the sound system that was inside the house.

Sophia and Tina, outside on the lawn, were standing off to one side, taking in the scene. Sophia had been tempted to drink a beer, but she had chickened out and was having a Sprite, the same as Tina.

“Pretty cool, huh,” Sophia said.

“I guess,” Tina said unconvincingly. Tina was used to being around beer-drinking men—her father and his cronies drank beer all day long on the weekends—but not with boys her age, or just a little older. The scene here felt foreign and threatening to her. All these American kids, totally carefree. She thought she would have an anxiety attack if she didn’t calm down inside.

“It’s going to get crazy later on,” Sophia told her. “UCSB is one of the top party schools in the country.”

“Like how crazy?” Tina asked tensely. She wished she hadn’t come. This wasn’t comfortable to her. But she really liked Sophia and valued their friendship. As long as the two of them hung together, she’d be okay. Her worry was that Sophia would start talking to one of the boys and abandon her. Several boys had been looking over at them, but none had approached yet, fortunately.

Sophia checked out the college girls, for comparison. Some of them were showing a lot of skin, dressed in skimpy tube tops and shorts or short skirts. Others were dressed like her, in jeans and T-shirts. She didn’t feel out of place. She had been to dozens of parties at Stanford with Wanda. This one wasn’t any different, except the Stanford kids were tamer, not as eager to commit mayhem. She knew she was as attractive, pretty, sexy, however you wanted to say it, as most of the girls here. Still, she was on edge, not because she was socially uncomfortable, but rather from anticipation. A few boys in the high school had come on to her, but she hadn’t met one she liked, and she was antsy about not having a boy in her life. These guys were older, more mature (although they weren’t acting it now, but this was a party, you were supposed to let it hang out), and there was a better variety.

She was going to connect with a boy tonight. She could feel it.

“Come on,” she said, tugging at Tina’s hand. “Let’s mingle.”

Reluctantly, Tina allowed Sophia to pull her into the middle of a group which included Cassie. Cassie was already partying hard—she knocked down a hit of Cuervo Gold and immediately filled her shot glass with more tequila, right up to the brim.

She held the bottle up to Sophia, who shook her head. “I drove,” she reminded Cassie.

“You could cab home,” Cassie suggested. “Or sleep it off here. That’s what I’m going to do.” She giggled. One of the boys standing next to her ran his hand along her ass, over her jeans. She playfully batted it away. He rested it on her hip, which she accepted.

“Having a good time?” Cassie asked Tina, who was shadowing Sophia like a glove.

“Uh huh,” Tina answered. Every fiber in her body said otherwise.

Cassie put a friendly hand on Tina’s arm. “Just go with the flow, you know?”

“Okay,” Tina answered. The flow felt like a river that was carrying her toward a waterfall.

A nice-looking guy suddenly materialized on Sophia’s shoulder. “Hi,” he said to her. His smile was friendly, rather than leering.

She sized him up. Taller than her, cute, not an animal. More than acceptable. “Hi,” she said back, smiling back.

“I’ve seen you around,” he said easily. “Were you at last month’s puke fest?”

She felt no need to lie. “No. I’ve never been here.”

“That’s okay. You are now, that’s all that matters.” He looked at the empty Sprite bottle in her hand. “What’re you drinking?”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “Whatever.” One drink wouldn’t do any harm. She was going to be here for at least an hour. The effect would wear off before she got into her car.

He looked past her to Tina, who was almost rigid. “What about your friend? I’m Rory, by the way.”

“Sophia,” Sophia told him. “This is Tina.”

“Pleasure, ladies. How’s about a tequila sunrise?”

Tequila, but mostly orange juice. Tasty and weak. “Fine,” she agreed.

“What about you?” he asked Tina.

“She’ll have the same,” Sophia said quickly, before Tina could object.

“Coming right up.” He smiled and wagged a finger in their faces. “Don’t go away.”

He crossed the lawn to the bar. Tina leaned into Sophia.

“I don’t want to drink alcohol,” she protested in a whisper. “I’m already too tense.”

“Relax. You don’t have to drink it,” Sophia told her. “Just stand there with it. One drink won’t hurt, Tina. Trust me.”

Rory brought their drinks back, and one for himself. “So tell me the story of your life,” he said to Sophia as he passed them out.

She laughed. “Where do you want me to begin?”

Just like that, Tina was by herself. Sophia had danced away with Rory, leaving her to her own devices. Which were hopeless. She shouldn’t have come, she thought for the umpteenth time. She should have said “no” to Sophia when she had been invited. It wasn’t like Sophia was dying for her everlasting company. They were friends, and liked each other, but their real bond had been their otherness, and now that didn’t apply to Sophia. The real reason she had been invited was because Sophia didn’t want her to think she was leaving her out. Well, now she had, without a second thought.

She would have to gut it out. Move around the fringes and hang on until Sophia decided to leave. Maybe one of the other kids from class would decide to leave early, and she could hitch a ride. Fighting her shyness, she moved around the lawn, looking at faces, trying to find one that looked like it could be of her blood.

There weren’t any. College was as segregated as high school.

She was thirsty, so she took a sip from her drink. It was sweet and cold. She couldn’t taste the tequila, but she knew she would feel it later on. What she should do was get something to drink that didn’t have alcohol in it. She didn’t want to get high. That would raise her panic level even higher.

There was a carton of orange juice on the makeshift bar, near the doors leading into the house. She could top her drink up and cut the tequila. She walked over to the bar, and tipped some juice into her cup. Looking inside, she saw a table with food on it—chips, dip, cookies. Eating would help keep her head clear, too. She walked into the living room.

The noise level was higher in here. The music bounced off the walls, and the voices were pitched high to be heard over the music. She was getting a headache—from the noise, her own tension, and the pressure of being around so many people she didn’t know, and felt awkward with.