No Place to Fall (9 page)

Friday afternoon, C.A. and I
leave school together to initiate Operation Convince Mama Vaughn. Devon's on his way home to get ready for the party. It's not really going to be much of a party—just Kush, Sean, me, Devon, Will, Amber-o-zia, and C.A.—but it's more exciting than our usual Friday night.

I follow C.A. out to the parking lot to her battered old Subaru. The first time I saw her car, I was surprised. C.A. carries herself like one of the county's have-a-lots, but even though we'd gone to school together since kindergarten, I didn't know much about her life off campus.

“Don't diss the Sue-Bee,” she says, like she can hear my thoughts. “My mother pays for my insurance so I had to
have liability-only, which meant a beater car.” She throws herself across the hood and hugs the dull gray metal. “My darling Sue-Bee cost me five hundred dollars' worth of baby-sitting money.”

“At least you have a car.”

She breaks into a grin and flips over, looking at the sky. “I know. Freedom. I love it.”

“So what do your parents do?” I ask.

“Mom's a dental hygienist.” C.A. flashes her pearly white teeth. “My dad left us when I was nine.”

I remember a different C.A., one who would sit next to Mrs. Rafferty at every recess and cry if anyone picked on her, in fourth grade. At least Daddy never left us.

We climb in the car. C.A. follows my directions and pulls in behind Mama's rarely used minivan.

“I
love
your house.” Amber looks up at the big maples in the yard. “It's like something out of a book.”

“It's just an old farmhouse.” I try to see what she does, but all I notice is the paint peeling off the clapboards.

“But it's two stories, and I bet it has an attic, a big one. Are there ghosts?” C.A.'s face is bright with questions.

“Come on.” I get out. “I'll take you to the attic and you can see if the spiders tell you anything.”

Her face goes pale. “Spiders.”

“Spiders live in attics.”

“Maybe I'll skip the attic today.”

I shake my head. “So you're not afraid of ghosts, but you're afraid of spiders?”

Amber shuts her car door and follows me. “Girlfriend, have you not been reading all those new paranormal romances in the library? There are some
really
hot ghosts.”

Mama pulls the door open. I'm glad to see she's put on pants and a blouse for company, instead of wearing her normal housecoat. “Hello, girls, how was school?”

I kiss Mama on the cheek and smell spice cake.

“Great, Mama. This is Amber Douglas, well, C.A.”

C.A. holds out her hand and smiles big. “Hi, Mrs. Vaughn.”

“Another Amber. And a pretty one, too. You girls put your things down and come on back to the kitchen. I made a cake. You can have a piece now and then you can take it on over to Devon's house.”

“Thanks, Mama.”

I lead C.A. up the stairs to my room. “Holy princess!” C.A. shouts as she walks in.

“Really?” Again, I try to see my room through her eyes. “You think?”

“Um. Yes. Look at this cool, old antique furniture, and your room is so light and sunny. Hardwood floors.” She throws herself on my quilted double bed. “All I've got is
a teensy apartment box bedroom with a window to the parking lot.” She points to the mountains. “You, you've got infinity.”

“Yeah, I guess it's pretty nice.” I lean against the wall.

C.A.'s off the bed and heads straight for the thumbtacked map on the wall opposite me. “What's this?” Her finger bounces from point to point.

“Hometowns of people I've met. Cities where there are supposed to be cool music festivals. Places I want to go.”

“Do you have a color coding system or something?”

If I tell her yes—blue for hiker boys, green for music festivals, red for the afternoon with Will—she's sure to ask me to explain it.

“No, it's random.” My palms start to sweat as C.A. studies the thumbtacks.

“Where are
your
tacks?” C.A. holds her hand out.

“What?”

“You're missing one.”

I hand her the clear plastic box of thumbtacks and watch as she fishes one out. Red.

“Here.” C.A. sticks the tack directly on Winston-Salem. “Let's go talk to your mama.”

One whole piece of spice cake in, and C.A. and I still haven't convinced Mama of anything.

Mama settles deeper into her kitchen chair and sighs. “I don't understand why in the world you would want to bother with an audition. Amber, sugar, you know I'd be irresponsible if I let you run off to school in some big city. You're only sixteen.”

C.A. smiles and says, “Mrs. Vaughn, this is the best cake I've ever eaten in my life. May I please have another slice?”

Mama eases the knife through the moist cake, creamy frosting wrinkling on the blade.

C.A. starts talking fast. “Mrs. Vaughn, an audition is great for self-esteem, and Amber, you know with her joining chorus and all, may just earn a solo. And then she'll have to sing in front of all of Sevenmile, because you know how everyone comes out for those things. If she can get through the pressure of a closed-door audition in front of people who really know their stuff, well, she'll be able to sing in front of anyone. Even Sevenmile's finest.”

Mama looks at her hands. “You say it's in Boone?”

“Yes, ma'am,” C.A. garbles through a mouthful of cake, licking her lips and moaning for effect.

Mama's smile is nervous, but it's something else that spills from her eyes as she turns in my direction. “Well, I reckon I can take you, even though I'm not much of a driver.” She looks at C.A. again. “You think it will help my Amber shine?”

C.A. chews, smiling with her mouth closed, and nods.

I'm lost in Mama's hopeful expression.

Mama looks at the ceiling. “Oh Lord, help me drive to Boone.” Then she looks at me. “I'm only agreeing to the audition, sugar. Nothing more.”

“Yes, ma'am. I know.”

And I know something else now, too. That my singing, my asking about this audition, lit something up inside my mama. Something I haven't seen on her face since Whitney was married, and Coby was born. Her face, for half a second, was proud. And it was because of me.

I picture that second red tack on my map. Maybe red isn't what I thought it had to be for at all. Maybe red is for love.

C.A. goes crazy digging through Whitney's old clothes and helps me pull together an outfit for the dance.

Soft corduroy miniskirt, purple shirt with a draping neckline, perfectly worn cowboy boots. It's not as sexy as some of the getups C.A. first suggested, but it's more formfitting than the overalls and T-shirts I normally wear.

C.A. steps back. “You dress up good, girl.”

I look in the mirror and turn from side to side. Maybe I should give Whitney's wardrobe another chance.

C.A. has applied pink blush to my cheeks and lipstick
to my puckered lips and black eyeliner to the tops of my eyes. I look like a lazy cat. A lazy, sexy cat.

Whitney's sitting at the kitchen table with Coby when we go downstairs. It looks like she's been crying, but I don't have time to stay to ask why. Her tears are usually about Sammy.

I kiss Coby on the top of his head. “Bye, Mama, we're going.”

“Let me look at you.” Mama stands up from beside Whitney and holds me an arm's length away from her, a hand on each shoulder. I see a flash of something like
Oh, my baby's growing up
cross her face. “Simply beautiful.”

“Thanks, Mama.”

“Hey, nice clothes. Glad somebody can fit in them.” Whitney's definitely upset about something.

I stiffen and decide not to say anything. I look over at C.A.

“What, you got your rich friend and now you're too good for me?”

I cringe, noticing the glaze over Whitney's eyes.
Please don't let her make a scene.

“Sorry, C.A. Come on.” I start walking toward the front door, torn between bursting into tears and shouting something ugly at my sister.

“You can't run away from me. Why the hell is everyone
running away from me?” Whitney's voice cracks. I hear one last comment before we're out of the house. “You got a condom, Amber? You look like you might need one.”

Mama fusses as the door shuts behind us.
Oh my God.
I can't believe Whitney. Why would she do that to me?

C.A. opens her car door and whispers at me over the roof of the Subaru. “Are you going to hook up with Sean?”

“No!” I yank the passenger door open, wishing she hadn't heard Whitney's last barb.

“Sorry.”

“It's okay.” I take a deep breath, willing my hands to stop shaking.

C.A. has seven Hello Kitty charms hanging off her key ring. They jumble against one another as she starts the car.

“Sorry about Whitney.” I hesitate. “I think she was high.” Might as well put it out there. It's not like the whole town doesn't know anyway.

“Oh.” C.A. looks over at me, her eyes wide and head tilted in empathy.

“That stuff she said, she didn't really mean it. She used to be so fun. You would have liked her.” Something hollow settles in my chest when I think about how my memories of the old Whitney are getting as dull as the gray on C.A.'s car.

“Yeah, I remember her from our freshman year. So, she got pregnant, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I won't let that happen.”

“Me neither.” I start to relax.

“So . . . are you going to hook up with Sean?” C.A. asks again as the car hits the pothole and we both rocket forward in our seats.

“Watch out,” I say, too late, then, “I don't think so.”

“Why not?” C.A. asks me.

I could share my secret, tell someone else about what happened with Will.

But instead I say, “He's just a friend, that's all. Are you dating anybody?” I check my lipstick in the mirror.

“There are a few senior guys I wouldn't say no to.” She rattles off their names and I see their faces in my mind. Out of curiosity I ask her about Will.

“Will McKinney? No. I'm not into the whole cooler-than-thou thing. And, he's taken.”

I'm torn between relief that C.A.'s not into him, the instinct to defend him, and the hard reality of Amber-o-zia.

“What about Kush?” I ask. I need to get my mind off Will, and back to Devon's favor.

“
Please
. That guy is so insecure and out of his element. I mean, yeah, he's gorgeous, but I think he may be like Devon.”

I freeze. “What do you mean, like Devon?”

“Devon's totally gay.” C.A. smiles as we turn into the McKinneys' driveway.

She pushes my shoulder when we stop. “What? Did you think I didn't know? Oh, don't worry about it. I don't care. Come on, let's go inside.”

“Wait.” I grab her arm.

“Yeah?”

“Devon asked me to ask you for a favor.”

C.A. cocks her head and her long ponytail flips over her shoulder. “
Now
I'm curious.”

“Devon wants you to kiss Kush to see if he's straight.” Knowing C.A. is wise to Devon makes explaining easy.

C.A.'s mouth slowly falls open. “He wants me to
what
?”

“I know, I told him it was stupid, and you wouldn't do it.”

She flips down the rearview mirror and reapplies her lipstick. “It
is
stupid. But I'll try, I guess.” She caps the lipstick. “But it's only for Devon. Not because I'm into Kush. And only if it works out.”

“Fair enough,” I say.

Will opens the door
. “Look who's here. Gorgeous junior girls!” He gives me a careful once-over and holds out his hand as if he wants to shake mine. “I don't believe I know
you
.”

“Stop it, Will McKinney.” C.A. pushes him aside.

But he's still checking me out, from my boots to my lined eyes. “I like ogling the Ambers,” he says, smiling.

C.A. rolls her eyes and pushes past him. I follow her, so I'm on her heels and Will's on mine. I can feel the tension, an invisible cord tugging my body, Will on the other end. Even though I don't want to like it, even though I shouldn't like it, I do.

The hall opens into the large family room at the back
of the house. Kush and Devon are dancing in front of the big-screen TV, their hands above their heads doing some kind of cobra dance. Women in saris and men in turbans twirl in perfect Indian show-tune synchronicity to loud Bollywood music as the boys try to match their steps.

C.A. whispers to me, “Um? I'm supposed to kiss that? Like
that's
going to work.”

She has got a point.

Kush and Devon turn around at the same time. Kush immediately drops his hands, but Devon cobras over and dances around me in a circle. “Hey, Amber. Bollywood, baby! You look
hot
.”

Kush is looking everywhere but at me or C.A.

“You think?” I cobra my hands and bob my head back at Devon, handing him the pint jar of brandy I snuck out of the barn.

He drops his hands and grabs my waist, jumping me around in a circle, before taking the jar. “Kush brought over all of his mom's old Bollywood movies. They are freaking amazing!”

C.A. interrupts us by placing her hands on our shoulders. “I'll see y'all after the game, 'kay?”

“Wait, you're leaving?”

She nods. “I told you, I could only stay for a minute. I meant that literally.”

She leaves with a wave. I glance into the kitchen, but don't see Sean.

“Where's Sean?” I ask Kush.

“Helping my dad. He'll be at the dance later.”

Will throws himself across the couch. “Amber-o-zia ditched me for
shopping
.” He makes tear fists against his eyes.

“And Kush and I aren't going to the game,” Devon announces.

I look from Will to Devon to Kush and back to Devon. “What? I thought this would be our Friday night.”

“Amber. You know I hate football. I only like
fútbol
.” His accent would be cute if he weren't trying to sound all sophisticated for Kush.

Kush adds, “Yeah, I'm not that into it either.”

“Are y'all at least coming to the dance later?” I hear the whine in my voice.

“Sean and C.A. will be there. You won't need us.” Devon's face is sending me a million signals that all say the same thing.
Just go and leave me and this cute boy alone.

Fine, then. It's not like we've spent almost
every
Friday night together since the beginning of high school. “Whatever.”

Devon pouts.

“I said fine. It's okay.” I pat the pout off his cheeks.

Then, when I think it can't get any worse, Devon turns to his brother and asks,

“Will, you can give Amber a ride, can't you?”

“So . . .” Will's voice draws out the
o
as he turns his key in the ignition, the sports car roaring to life.

“So?” I smooth my hands down the sides of my skirt, which is shorter than I remember it being when I got dressed.

He turns on the stereo, and casually loops his arm over the back of my seat.

“Will.”

“Yes.”

“Stop it.”

“Haven't started. Besides, I need to back down the driveway.” He pulls his hand away and shifts the car into reverse. “Seriously, though.” He glances at me, returning his arm to the back of my seat, his eyes wicked with mischief. “Don't you want to kiss me?”

“Will!”

I may act outraged, but he's right. I decide to not say anything else.

Will's voice breaks into my thoughts. “Going to be a wet night.” Fat raindrops hit the windshield, picking up time with the speed of the car. It's already getting dark.

“You think they'll still play?”

“Oh, they'll play.”

Great. I don't have a raincoat or an umbrella.

Will whistles a birdsong, then sighs. “I hate football games in the rain.”

“Me, too. Actually, I pretty much hate them no matter what.” Against my better judgment, I ask, “Do you think people will be hanging out somewhere else?”

Will's face splits into a wide smile. “I thought you'd
never
ask.” He pulls over in the Self Suds car wash parking lot and turns to look at me. “Listen, don't say no until you hear me out.”

My stomach jumps.

I watch a man pull into the wash bay. The end of his cigarette glows red through the windshield as he fumbles around, I guess looking for change.

Will clears his throat. “Let's go over the state line to Erwin and see some friends of mine for a couple of hours.”

The burning end of the cigarette leaves red in my vision as I turn my head sharply toward Will's face. “Erwin? Tennessee? Tonight?”

When I said let's go somewhere else, I was thinking Dash-n-Burger, somewhere other MHHS kids would be. People that would keep me from kissing Will or Will from kissing me. There are so many things wrong with this alternative. Mama, most of all. If she knew I was thinking
of crossing the state line to go to some party, she'd have my hide. Rather, she'd have the audition I just got hold of.

“Will, I can't.”

He pouts his full lips. “Oh, come on, please. Erwin. Forty minutes up. An hour there. Forty minutes back. We'll be right in time for the dance. Nobody will know. And you'll be doing me a favor, because I want you to come with me. Sean and C.A. won't care if we miss the game.”

Something dangerous streaks through my gut. Going to Erwin right now is bound to be an Even Worse Idea than just catching a ride with Will.

The rain drums on the car roof. Football games are never canceled. But seriously, who wants to sit out in this?

I watch the guy get out of his car and put quarters into the wash controller.

“We'll be back for the dance?” I ask, my eyes unmoving.

“Cross my heart,” Will says.

The hose surges to life and jumps out of the guy's hand, dancing across the concrete. He races after it, doing a funny little hop and jump till he gets it in his hands. He turns toward our idling car, laughing, and then gives us the thumbs-up, like everything's under control.

I blow out a deep breath. “Well, I guess we better get going.”

Will grins wide and turns the car onto the dark highway.