54

Colby

When the bus pulls into the school’s parking lot, I think how this is where Benny would lean into me and say, “Whatcha up for now, Pynes?”

Sometimes it was Murphy’s Hill.

Sometimes it was Angie’s Restaurant and the all-you-can-eat pancake special with scrambled eggs and bacon.

Sometimes it was simply two words: “I’m beat.” Benny had different ways of responding to that, and almost all of them made me laugh.

We trudge off the bus, and Derek Nelson asks me if I want to join him and a few other guys who are going to check out a party they heard about.

“Thanks, man, but I’m heading home. I gotta work tomorrow.”

Derek looks over my shoulder and smiles. “Sure you do, Pynes. Sure you do.”

I have no idea what he’s talking about. I turn around and see Meghan leaning up against my truck.

“Damn,” I say.

He slaps me on the shoulder. “Have fun.”

I think about changing my mind and asking him for a ride to the party, if he’ll bring me back here later. That’s how much I don’t want to talk to Meghan right now. But they’re hooting and hollering and happy, walking across the parking lot, and I’m just not up to it.

“Good game,” she says when I approach. “That catch at the end was brilliant.”

“Thanks. I came through when it mattered, I guess.” I move past her, and throw my bag in the bed of my truck.

She pulls on my arm, and when I turn around, she’s right there. “I know you need someone right now.” Her eyes are so sad. And for a second, I wonder why. What does she have to be sad about? “This thing with Benny is killing you, I can tell. Let me help you.”

I sigh. “Meghan, I thought we already went over this.”

“I’m not your guardian angel anymore, but that doesn’t mean we can’t . . . you know.”

“Don’t do this.”

She looks surprised. “Do what?”

“This. Throw yourself at me because I’m the hero of the game tonight or whatever. Did you see the way I played the rest of the game? I’m not a hero. I’m so far from a hero, it’s not even funny.”

She looks heartbroken. “Colby, I like you. That’s all.”

I shake my head. “No. Like I told you before, I don’t think you even really know me. What you like is being a part of the winning team. It makes you feel good. Because you obviously don’t have much else in your life that makes you feel good about yourself, or you wouldn’t be showing up here, acting like this.”

Her eyes narrow. “You know what? You’re wrong. I do know you. I know that you’re an asshole.” She stomps over to her car. “Jesus, I just felt bad for you and everything you’ve been going through. I wanted to help you!”

She gets in her car and speeds off before I can respond. Not that I have anything else to say.

Sometimes things in this small town are so backward, I can hardly see straight. I stand there, trying to think of one thing I actually like about this town right now.

And that’s when I think of the girl who is so different from everyone else. The girl who’d never seen a covered bridge. The girl who doesn’t really like football.

It’s so cliché, but right now I feel like this small town might smother me, and Lauren is a breath of fresh air.

I want to see her. I want to remember what it’s like to feel normal again.

So I get in my truck, and I head toward the Jiffy Mart.

55

Lauren

Josh and Erica let me go with Stasia after the game. She has a white Ford Focus instead of a blue bicycle. We ride back to Willow, singing along to the radio. A Katy Perry song comes on, and I think that they seem like kindred spirits, with Stasia’s pink hair and crazy clothes and how she loves lollipops (grape is her favorite). There is something about singing with a girlfriend in the car, happy and carefree, that makes you feel like you can do ANYTHING. I tell myself I can do what I want to do. What I’m afraid to do. What I need to do. I can talk to Colby when he gets off the bus and tell him I had so much fun that day we spent together and I’ve missed him. Maybe he feels the same, maybe not, but I want to know. I need to know. Stasia parks in a dark corner, and we wait for the bus to arrive. “He’s really cute,” she says. “I know.” “I hope it works out.” “Me too.” She reaches into the glove box to get a lollipop. She offers me one, but I decline. The butterflies are circling, and I tell myself it’s because I’m excited, not nervous. We watch as a beautiful girl walks up to Colby’s truck and looks inside before she turns around and leans up against it, her arms crossed like she’s ready to wait all night. “Who is that?” I whisper. “Meghan Cooley,” Stasia says. “His ex.” Suddenly, I’m wishing I would feel afraid again. Or nervous. Or excited. Anything besides the sadness that fills me. I can’t believe it’s going to end like this. “Do you want to stay?” she asks. “No. I can’t watch.” “I’m sorry,” she says. The story of my whole miserable life.