Footloose (6 page)

He pulled out his best tricks, mixing dance with gymnastics, climbing up onto a big four-wheel-drive truck and doing a back flip off the hood. The alarm went off as the blue truck rocked, adding a new sound to the music.

“Aw, dude, I'm sorry about that,” Ren said to the big guy who owned the truck.

“No worries,” he said as he silenced the alarm. “Do it again.”

Ren didn't have to be told twice. He hopped up onto the truck and did another back flip, arcing even higher in the air than the last time. When he landed, he slapped hands with the truck owner and asked if Ariel was still watching.

“Oh, she's looking,” the guy said. “Get on that, boy.”

Ren ran and slid up to Ariel with amazing force, nearly knocking himself off his feet. The move forced her up against the grille of a car. If there was any doubt about the attraction between them, it was now gone.

“Hey,” Ariel said in a soft voice that somehow managed to drown out the loud music.

“Hey,” Ren replied.

“Ren, right?”

He smiled. “Very good.”

They danced together, moving seductively to the music. Ren was enjoying himself for the first time since moving to Bomont. And it wasn't just because this beautiful girl paid more attention to him dancing than she did in the halls at school—though that was a big part of it. Still, he still didn't have her entirely. She kept looking over her shoulder, glancing back to Chuck. With each turn, she moved a little closer to Ren. Danced a bit dirtier.

Ren could see that Chuck was getting jealous.
Good. Let him.
Ren was having fun in the moment. But Ariel's glances back happened more and more often, until her focus was almost entirely on watching Chuck's face darken with anger. It was too much for Ren. He stopped dancing, which brought her attention fully back to him.

Ariel kept moving provocatively. “What's wrong? Can't keep up?”

“You can put on a show for that guy,” Ren said. “Doesn't mean I got to.”

“Hey—” Ariel said, but she never got to finish.

The music broke off suddenly, bringing the party to a screeching halt. Claude's voice came over the PA. “Attention. Would Ariel please come up to the diner? Your daddy's here for you, Ariel.”

Everyone turned to see Reverend Moore standing in the doorway.

The crowd reacted for their friend's sake. Rusty was especially mortified. Her gasp was the only thing that could be heard in the sudden silence.

Ren caught a blip of concern in her eyes, but Ariel remained stone-faced through it all. “Show's over,” she said to Ren before abandoning the dance floor and heading for the diner.

The air that had been electrified with music a moment earlier was now quiet as death while the crowd parted for Ariel to make her way to her father. Their private conversation was all that could be heard.

“Your mother didn't think you had any money on you,” Reverend Moore said. “She told me this is where you'd be.”

“Daddy, I wasn't—”

“I think it would be best if you came home with me,” the reverend said. “Right now.”

The silence continued as all eyes followed Ariel and her father while they walked to his car. Ren saw her glance Chuck's way. The jerk seemed amused by it all, making a “call me” sign with his hands. Not out of concern—like he wanted to plan their next date.

Once they were both in the car with the door shut, it was the signal for everyone to start whispering about what they'd just seen.

“Ouch,” Willard said. “Daddy's gonna take her out to the woodshed.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Ren asked.

“It means she's in trouble.”

They both looked across the lot at Chuck. He was already eyeing other girls in the crowd. When he saw them looking his way, he lifted a beer and smiled as if nothing at all had just happened.

Chapter 10

Ariel discreetly checked behind her in the side-view mirror. The silence in the dance circle broke the moment Daddy pulled his door shut. He didn't slam it; that wouldn't be very mature. For all the conversations now going on behind them, it was eerily quiet in her father's sedan.

Before they pulled onto the road, Ariel was already the talk of the town. That wasn't anything new. She'd set tongues wagging for years now. At least this was for something she'd actually done.

But what had she done, really? She had danced. That was it. She wasn't even dancing with her boyfriend. It was just some random guy. The random guy her mother introduced her to, in fact. That was something she might want to hold in reserve, should she ever need to use it.

Ren McCormack had been taking up more of her thoughts lately than he should. Sure, she pretended that she couldn't remember his name, that she barely noticed him in the halls; but there was something about him that attracted her. He wasn't like the other guys that caught her eye—and it had nothing to do with the fact that he was from out of town.

He didn't hesitate for a second calling her out when he caught her checking back to make sure Chuck was watching. Anyone else might have noticed that, but he was the only one to say it. And he stopped dancing, too. Most guys would have played it up, even the ones dumb enough to know how mad it would make Chuck. It was all worth it for a twirl with the preacher's baby girl.

Daddy carefully drove through town at his usual speed, just under the limit. Nobody was going to pull over the reverend, but the reverend would never flout the laws he so carefully worked to maintain as a council member and the moral leader of the community. Funny how she was almost the immoral leader of the community.

Of course, Ariel wasn't the one who turned on the music in the first place. She didn't start the dance—but she was the one who got caught. It actually worked out for the best, really; because she was the one who ultimately didn't mind what happened to her.

Not really.

Mostly.

The house was dark when they drove up to it. There was only one light on in the living room window. Reverend Moore pulled into the driveway and turned off the ignition, but he didn't move to get out of the car. Ariel didn't, either. They just sat in silence, each waiting for the other one to give in.

As Ariel expected, it was her father who broke first, though he couldn't quite bring himself to look at her. “You know, Ariel, I cannot be with you at all times to protect and guide you. The manner in which you were dancing was beneath you. Why you choose to celebrate such vulgar music is beyond me.”

It was like he totally forgot what it was to be young. “Didn't you ever dance with Mom?”

“Of course I did.” He turned in his seat to face her. “But every time I did, I looked her in the eye. I treated her with respect. These days, ‘dancing' means young girls sticking their backsides into boys' crotches. And when they dance like that, they become sexually irresponsible.”

It was the same stupid logic he always used. The idea that dancing led to sex. People were having sex without any musical accompaniment since Adam and Eve. Ariel was over that argument long ago. “Can we just get on with whatever judgment you want to dole out? Am I grounded? Do I gotta go to prison? What is it?”

Moore shook his head as if he'd given up on her. That hurt more than anything he could say, more than any punishment he could give. “Ariel, I just don't know what I'm going to do with you.”

“There's nothing to do, Daddy. This is it. It doesn't get much better.” She pushed the car door open and got out. Her father called after her to stay in the car, but she didn't care. He wasted the entire ride not speaking to her. She wasn't about to cause a scene in the driveway while her mother sat inside the house thinking everything was perfect.

Nothing had been perfect in Ariel's life since that night three years ago. Nothing at all.

Ariel stormed into the house. Her mom sat on the sofa reading, totally unaware of the coming storm. “Hey, baby,” she said innocently. “You're back early. What did you do tonight?”

“Just breaking the law, Momma.” Ariel stormed off to her bedroom.

Her father called after her. “Ariel, we're not done—”

She slammed her bedroom door to let him know that she was most certainly done. But it wasn't enough. She wanted to slam every door in the house. She wanted to smash things. Destroy the perfect family portrait on her desk. Stomp on the little unicorn music box Daddy gave her on her eighth birthday. But that would only prove him right, that she was a child. That she wasn't mature enough to dance without it leading to trouble.

Instead, she threw her body down on her bed and listened to her parents' muffled voices from the living room. She couldn't make out the words, but she didn't need to. She'd heard enough of these conversations before.

Oh, her parents were good at missing all the ways she'd changed over the years since the accident. She was good at hiding her life from them. But there were always minor things they disapproved of, especially Daddy. A pair of tight jeans became a conversation; a missed curfew when she forgot to come up with an excuse to spend the night at Rusty's was a problem—to say nothing of her daddy's reaction every time he saw her red leather boots.

Tonight was the worst thing he'd ever caught her doing, but it was far from the worst thing she'd ever done. Even so, she wouldn't get punished for it. Not formally. Reverend Shaw Moore never sent her to her room or took away her privileges. He simply judged her. With his eyes. With his words. With the way he held back any overt expression of his love.

Chapter 11

It was Ren's first time in a courtroom, but not nearly his first experience with a legal proceeding. He'd filled out plenty of legal forms, from insurance documents to vehicle registrations to whatever his mom needed him to do on her behalf on the bad days. That included going over the divorce papers once his dad finally got around to signing them years after they'd first been sent out.

Ren even filled out the emancipation paperwork that would have allowed him to legally live on his own, but his mom convinced him not to follow through with it. She'd been the one who insisted he come to Bomont, that he live with his uncle.

Yeah. That worked out well. On his very first day here he got a traffic summons. Then again, this courtroom was by far the most relaxed legal situation he'd ever been in.

The judge was having a tough time concentrating on the business before him, like he couldn't wait to get out of his black robes and head to the fishing hole or something. It didn't much matter, though; Officer Herb more than made up for the judge's apparent disinterest.

Word had spread through town about the party at the drive-in. Rumor was Officer Herb had gotten an earful from the council over the weekend, seeing as how he'd only just left before the wild, impure dancing broke out. The drive-in hadn't been fined, since no one in law enforcement had actually been a witness to the festivities. Even Reverend Shaw had only seen two dancers. That much was clear when Ren got a glare from the reverend during Sunday services. Uncle Wes didn't bother stopping them on the way out afterward to chat with the reverend and his wife.

Ariel had been at church, too, but she didn't say anything to Ren. The whole congregation knew that she'd been dancing with him, but her father must have left that part out when he told the rest of the council about the party. It was the worst-kept secret in town, but everyone silently agreed to let the reverend deal with it himself.

Ren tried to put all that out of his mind and focus on the judge in the small Bomont County courtroom. He had just made his formal request to either reschedule or avoid his punishment altogether; all he needed now was the ruling.

“And why do you think you're above serving your penalty in Saturday school, Mr. McCormack?” the judge asked.

Ren was prepared for the attitude. It was all that he seemed to get in this town. Giving it back to a judge would only cause more trouble. “I don't think I'm above anyone—”

Wes leaned in between them to address the judge directly. “Hey, Joey, he's got a job over at Andy's cotton mill.”

Judge Joey leaned forward in a whisper. “Wes, call me Judge, would ya?” He motioned to the baseball cap Wes was wearing. “And …?”

Wes took off the cap. He'd told Ren earlier that he knew the judge, but Ren wasn't sure what that meant in this small town. His uncle also knew the councilman/principal, but that didn't stop the guy from giving him grief about a neon sign that he still hadn't taken down.

“Okay, Judge Joey,” Wes said, holding his cap in his hands. “Could you show some mercy here? He was playing his music too loud. Just about as loud as you used to play Grand Funk in that old Impala you and me used to roll in. Remember that, Judge?”

The judge paused to consider this. “You'll get Andy to verify his employment?”

Officer Herb tried to jump in to protest, but Wes cut him off.

“Yes, Judge, I will. Can I get back to the car lot now?”

Judge Joey slammed his gavel to end the proceedings. “Sentence suspended.”

Ren wanted to ask if that was the end of it. It seemed like it was. Considering this crazy town, he never expected to get off so lightly, but he knew when to keep his mouth shut.

“We're at your house this Saturday?” Joey asked. The “judge” part of him dropped the moment his gavel banged on the desk.

“Kickoff's at two,” Wes said. “Go Dawgs!”

“Sic 'em!” Judge Joey barked out as they left.

Officer Herb was pissed. It probably had more to do with the grief he was getting about the party at the drive-in. Maybe he heard that Ren was the one dancing when the reverend came in. Only been in town for a month, and he was flouting the laws again. Ren would have to keep an eye out for Herb. He was sure the officer would be watching him.

Ren was still basking in the victory as they left the courthouse. “Thanks for that, Uncle Wes,” Ren said. “I figured I'd at least get some kind of community service or something.”

“You're lucky. Not everyone's got this town on lockdown like I do.” Wes practically beamed with pride. Ren did appreciate the help, but he didn't yet feel indebted to his uncle, even with all Wes had done for him in the past month. It didn't make up for the years before that.

“Since you and the judge are so chummy, maybe you could have him explain this whole ban on dancing thing to me,” Ren said as they waited for the traffic light to turn green so they could cross to Wes's truck. “I mean, whatever happened to the separation of church and state?”

“What does the church have to do with it?”

“It seems to have everything to do with everything around here.” The light changed and they started to cross. “Let me ask you a question: if there's a football game on Sunday and you want to buy a beer, can you?”

“You can't buy beer on Sundays,” Wes said, as if the mere idea was ludicrous.

“Why not?”

“Because of church.”

“You can up in Boston,” Ren pointed out as they got into the truck. “Why not in Bomont?”

Wes paused before he started the truck. “It's simple: Sunday is God's day. If you want to drink beer on God's day, you need to buy it on beer's day. And that's Saturday. It's right there in the Bible, if you don't believe me. The separation of God and beer.” Wes cracked a smile that was supposed to let Ren know he thought the rules were silly, too, but there wasn't anything they could do about them. “And if God said it, I believe it. That settles it.”

Wes turned the ignition, putting an end to the conversation. Uncle Wes talked about nothing important as they made the short ride back to the car lot. Ren's VW waited there for him. He had to get to the cotton mill—didn't want to be any later for his job than he already was.

He'd let Andy know he might run a bit behind after school because of the court date. Andy had been pretty cool about it; he thought the law was boneheaded, too. Ren knew he had a good thing with this boss and didn't want to mess around, even though he could have probably stopped for a snack before heading to work.

The VW Bug made the long trip out to the mill in good time. After a quick change of clothes, Ren got to work moving some heavy bags of mulch and stacking them onto a pallet for storage. Andy had decided to start Ren out with the less mechanical work before training him on the machines. Ren had already heard too many horror stories about missing fingers and whatnot, so he wasn't in a big rush to learn the inner workings of the heavy machinery.

He was sweaty and smelling of mulch when he got the surprise of his life: Ariel was standing in the doorway. She was about as far from covered in grime as you could get. It didn't seem like she'd faired all that badly in the punishment department, seeing as how she wasn't home locked in her room right now. Ren kind of wished her folks had been rougher on her, if only to save him from the awkwardness of having her see him like this.

She was all business, standing in the doorway without so much as a smile on her face. “Chuck Cranston wants to see you at his daddy's racetrack tomorrow at two o'clock.”

Ren had about a dozen responses to that one, but he went with the most direct. “Oh yeah? What happens at two?”

“Show up and you'll find out.”

He moved toward her, still keeping a bit of distance to avoid sharing his scent. “How come he sent you to tell me?”

Now she cracked a smile. “I volunteered.”

She turned on her heel and left before Ren could say anything more. He wasn't sure what he would've said to her as he watched her move off. It was obvious that she was messing with him, but how did she mean it? Did she volunteer because she wanted to see him, or because she wanted to make Chuck jealous? It was probably a combination of the two.

Ren was okay with that.