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Authors: Julie Anne Peters

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BOOK: Far from Xanadu
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I was about to make a joke like, “Next time she has a bloody nose we’ll just shove a Hoagie up it,” when Darryl attacked me. He slammed me against the wall and hissed in my face, “You’re still drinking, you little shit. I thought I told you to stop.”

I pushed him off me. “You told me. So what?”

He lunged at me, knuckling a fist, missing my face, but not the wall. The plaster cracked and the whole house shook. Darryl and I both gaped at the hole he’d made.

“Nice,” I said, my head nodding. “Who’s going to fix that? Same person who’s been promising to get to the roof ?”

I expected Darryl to come after me. Beat on me. Bloody me. Maybe I wanted him to. Maybe I wanted him to bash my head against the floor and knock some sense into me. Physical pain. I could take that. I understood it.

This hurt inside I didn’t know how to relieve.

Instead, Darryl went limp. His hands spread out and pressed against the wall behind me, over the hole. He hung his head and just started bawling.

Chapter Twenty-One

I
headed for the VFW. Sweat it out, I figured. Burn it off. Get all the ugliness out of me.

Jamie showed up sometime around my third circuit to bribe Renata into letting him use the tanning bed for free. I heard him in there, sucking up to her, telling her how accurate her horoscope reading had been. As I headed for the lockers, Jamie called, “Hey, Mike. Wait up.” He whispered urgently to Renata, loud enough for me to hear, “Hide that. Don’t let her see it.” Renata moved an object off the coffee couner to the shelf below.

What? Who cared? I wasn’t in the mood.

Jamie caught up with me at the door. “We need to talk.”

“I have to take a shower.”

“Good idea. You reek.” Jamie plugged his nose and followed me into the changing room.

I shoved him out and slammed the door. He was still chatting up Renata when I emerged a few minutes later. Spotting me, like he’d been lying in wait, he said, “Go ahead and warm up the bed, Renata.

I’ve got to consult with my fag hag.”

I stormed outside.

He raced to catch up.

I whirled. “I really hate that, you know. You can flaunt it if you want, if you think that queer act is so fucking cute, but leave me out of it.”

“Whoa.” Jamie reeled back a step. “Who peed in your Wheaties?”

I exhaled a long breath. My muscles hurt. I hurt. I shouldn’t have done the last set of lat pulls. I should’ve stayed in bed and zoned.

My knees gave out and I sank to the park bench in front of the VFW. Jamie eased down beside me. “What happened?” he asked. “You look like shit.”

I let out the breath I’d been holding ever since we left the hospital. “I had a crappy morning, okay?” I told Jamie about it. He listened, clucking his tongue in all the appropriate places. The knot in my stomach loosened. Not that I needed sympathy, his or anyone else’s.

“So Sveltlana’s adding a bloody snot rag to her cosmetics carousel,” Jamie said.

I don’t know why that made me laugh. I smacked Jamie in the chest. My eyes filled with tears, I laughed so hard. Then I wasn’t laughing.

Stop it. I grit my teeth; swiped my eyes. Get past it. Control it.

Jamie said, “I wondered where you were. Xana said she called your house for, like, three hours straight and no one was there.”

“You talked to her?” I blinked real fast and fixed on Jamie. “What’d she say?”

He held up his hands. “Don’t get all jealous. She wasn’t after my bod.”

What would I say to her? Forget about last night, what I revealed? Nothing’s changed? But it had changed; everything changed. She knew my true feelings now. She’d always know. We’d have it between us.

Across the street, Miss Millie tripped on the curb. Her Pekingese, Pooky, took a dump. That dog had to be thirty years old. It looked as drunk as her, wobbling around on spindly legs. Jamie called out, “Good morning, Miss Millie.” He said under his breath to me, “Break out the beer nuts. It’s Millie Time.”

“What’d she want?” I asked.

“Who?” Jamie said. “Oh...her.” He shrugged a shoulder. “I’m not sure. She hemmed and hawed around for a while. Finally she said it was personal and that she could only tell you.”

Huh. Maybe she’d been thinking about it, considering the possibility. The probability that I’d be better for her than Bailey.

Jamie stood and stretched his arms over his head, yawning audibly. “She did say Bailey was taking her shopping in Goodland today, so you wouldn’t be able to call her back until later.”

My stomach hurt again. I doubled over to keep my guts from spilling out all over Main Street. Bailey shopping? I couldn’t see it. Shopping for what? A new 4-H pin?

Jamie pulled his shades out of the side pocket of his baggy pants and slipped them on.

“I told her,” I said, clenching my middle.

It took him a minute. “You’re kidding. What’d she say?”

I hesitated. Why did I start this? “She said she already knew.”

Jamie was quiet. Stunned? Shocked?

I twisted my head up to find out.

“You
are
obvious,” he said. “She’d have to be blind not to notice.”

I annihilated him with eye daggers.

Jamie sat back down, extending his legs out stiff in front of him. “What else?”

I slid to the edge, copying his pose. I beckoned the sun to bake me, soak me, bathe me in warmth. I closed my eyes. “She said she loves me too.”

Jamie did a full body twist, almost falling off the bench. “She actually told you that?”

As much as I wanted to leave it, let him believe what he would, I couldn’t. “She said she loves me as a friend.”

Jamie’s whole body sagged. “Ow.”

I pushed to my feet.

“Hey, want to get blitzed tonight?” He shot up beside me. “Geneviève has a bottle of schnapps in the cupboard she sips on whenever she talks to Grandma about me.”

“No.” I started for home.

Jamie grabbed my arm. “Forget it, Mike,” he said. “She isn’t worth it. She’s a slut.”

I spun on him. “Don’t say that. Don’t you
ever
say that about her. Do you hear?” I grasped his wrist and wrenched it down off me.

A long moment passed. “You’re hurting me,” Jamie said, not taking his eyes from mine.

My fiery gaze traveled down to his wrist, to my hand clenching it in a vise grip. I let go roughly.

“I was kidding.” He held his wrist against his chest. “God.”

It didn’t sound like a joke. Still. What was I doing hurting the only friend I’d ever had? “Look, I’m sorry,” I told him. “I’m not myself.” I stepped off the curb to cross the street.

I heard him mutter, “Yeah. Whoever that is anymore.”

I dreamed about her. I’d been dreaming about her almost every night since she’d arrived. It was a welcome relief from the nightmare — falling, falling,
thud.
In one dream she’d open a door and step into my room. My bedroom, except it wasn’t this pit where I lived. It was a harem. She was a harem girl, dressed in silk, satin, velvet, and gauze. Her hair was braided with lace and gemstones and pearls. She sank into my Persian carpet in her bare feet as she floated toward me.

I lay on a round bed draped in pure linen with my samurai sword at my side. She drew back the curtain and knelt on the bed. She crawled toward me. She pulled me to a sitting position, then, one article of clothing at a time, undressed me. My jacket, my shirt, my undershirt. I did the same for her. She was beautiful naked, her skin pale and silky and soft. I was beautiful too, for once. We embraced each other. We fit together perfectly.

It was a stupid dream. Incongruous, anachronous. How did a samurai sword fit with a harem girl? There was no connection. No logic.

But I craved the dream. I longed for it to replay every night. I never wanted to wake up, never wanted that dream to end.

I was stacking fertilizer bags on a palette when Xanadu appeared out of the mist. First thing I saw were her painted toenails, plain leather sandals, one foot holding down the bag I was trying to lift.

My head rose and she smiled into my eyes.

That smile splintered my heart into a million pieces. She was so damn sexy. I swiped a stream of sweat off my forehead and said the only thing I could manage. “Hey.”

“Look.” She held out her right hand, fingers spread. “Bailey bought me a ring.”

My eyes dropped to her outstretched hand. The ring was gold with an opal in the center and two tiny diamonds.

“It doesn’t mean we’re going together or anything.” Xanadu examined the ring in the fading dusk. “He just wanted to buy me something special. Oh God, Mike. I’m so happy.” She pressed the ring to her heart.

He bought her a ring.

She said quietly, “I never thought anyone would love me. I never thought anyone could, not after —” She stopped. Her chest heaved.

He bought her a ring.

“Mike, you got that fertilizer loaded?” Everett hollered. “The truck’s here with the mare motels and I need that space in back.” His silhouette framed the rear doorway.

“Almost done,” I called to him.

Xanadu grimaced. “I better let you get to work.” She reached down and took my hand. Raising it to her face, she rested her cheek in my palm. Her face was cool, silk, satin. Why? Why did she do this? Didn’t she know every time she touched me she set me on fire? Didn’t she get it?

“I haven’t told him,” she said. “I know I should, but I’m afraid. I don’t know what he’ll do when he learns about my past. Do you think I should tell him?”

I don’t care. I backed away from her a step. “Don’t ask me.” It came out harsh. I didn’t want to talk about him. Not ever.

“You think I should, don’t you?” She glanced away, across the yard, toward the flatbed. Her eyes narrowed, like she was mad at me.

“You don’t have to,” I said. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Xanadu.” Except...love me, I thought.

Her eyes fixed on me, hard. “No, I should be honest with him. You’d tell him, wouldn’t you? You’re always up front with people. I wish I could be like you, Mike. Just put the truth out there for everyone to see. Deal with it.”

“Mike!” Everett yelled.

“Okay!” God. Get a life.

I hefted up a bag of fertilizer.

“Aunt Faye’s getting suspicious about the booze, I think.” Xanadu trailed me to the rows of pallets against the chain-link fence. “Friday should be our last time. I don’t want her banning me from the root cellar or locking the door because...well... Bailey and I have been using the cellar.” She bit her lip.

I flung the bag on the pallet and it burst apart. Shit. Just slice through my heart with a samurai sword, why don’t you?

“If Aunt Faye and Uncle Lee sent me home, I’d die. My whole life is here now. With you and Bailey. I don’t ever want to go back.” She paused and squinted into the setting sun. The giant red orb, blood red, oozing. “We’ll have a big blowout on Friday, okay? The three of us. Not Bailey.” She crossed her eyes. “He’s such a prude. You know what? I don’t even care. He loves me. He’s good for me. He —”

“I have to finish this, okay?” Go. Go now, I prayed. Before I lose it in front of you.

“I’ll call you later.” She touched my arm, burning a hole to my soul. Then she crunched through the gravel and disappeared inside the building.

The Sharon Springs Wildcats arrived in a caravan of trucks and SUVs. As the players dumped their gear in our visiting team’s lean-to, Cougars stood in a line of solidarity out front. We zeroed in on our target: Devon Womack.

I looked over to T.C. and she shrugged.

No Womack. We were so ready to psyche her out too.

My hopes soared. We might actually have a chance to win this game if Womack didn’t show. A lone VW zipped into the parking lot and ground to a stop. The door opened. Crap. It was her.

She lingered at the side of her red Bug, tying her shoelace. A white car pulled in beside her and Devon straightened. This huge smile spread across her face. She sauntered up to the driver’s side door as a girl got out of the car and said something to Devon, which made her laugh. Then — shock me with a live wire — they kissed.

Right here in broad daylight, in Coalton, Kansas. Two girls kissing. My eyeballs bounced off the scoreboard, I’m sure. Did anyone else see?

They held hands as they approached the lean-tos. Now people were gawking at them. When they got closer, I noticed the other girl, Devon’s girl, had on a KC Peppers T-shirt. The Peppers were a competitive team out of Olathe, Kansas.

I knew the Peppers. I’d been following the tourneys. Ever since I was little, I’d followed them. I knew all the competitive teams: The Shock-waves out of Kansas City, the KC Peppers out of Olathe, the Colorado Stars. I’d visualized myself on the field, in the uniforms, number 19. I’d fantasized about it. But it was out of my field of dreams now.

Dad was the one who’d kept that dream alive. The dream died with him.

I couldn’t take my eyes off them. Devon and her girlfriend. Their fingers intertwined at their sides. Like they held hands all the time.

Devon glanced up and saw me looking. Her eyes narrowed. The Peppers girl headed for the bleachers, and Devon veered my way.

“Yeah?” she said, coming right up to me. “What?”

“What what?” The softball in my hand I smacked into my glove.

Devon leaned into my face and spoke ominously. “She’s mine. Got that? Hands off.”

The ball dribbled out of my mitt and thudded in the dirt. “I never... I’m not...”

Devon grinned. As I bent to retrieve the ball, she added, “We’re going to kick your ass today.”

“Bite me,” I replied automatically.

“I would, but you’re not my flavor.” Another grin twisted her lips and she jabbed my shoulder. She took off. My eyes strayed to the stands, to the KC Peppers girl, joining the Sharon Springs Pep Club. God, she was hot. How’d they hook up?

“Mike!”

I put my eyeballs back in my head. Xanadu stood behind the back-stop, waving. I raised my glove to her. Bailey wasn’t with her, which lifted my spirits. Maybe he got castrated by a bull.

“Let’s go.” Coach Kinneson clapped behind me.

“Hey,” I said to my team as they trotted out onto the field. “Game on?”

In one voice they sounded, “Game on.”

BOOK: Far from Xanadu
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