by Mia Sheridan
The show started and I didn't hear a word of it. I tried to see Tenleigh in my peripheral vision, but she had leaned all the way back and Shelly was now blocking her. I glanced at her quickly when a kid started crying in the aisle down from us and saw that she was staring straight ahead, rigid.
Suddenly, Shelly took her jacket from behind her and spread it on her lap as if she were cold, moving it so it covered half of me as well. I felt her hand moving over my crotch and jumped slightly. She ran her palm over my dick and then squeezed it through my jeans, still looking straight ahead, a small smile on her lips. I reached under the jacket and removed her hand from my body and put it on top of her coat. She looked over at me and raised her eyebrows and I nodded my head to the stage, indicating what, I wasn't exactly sure.
I looked over at Tenleigh and her head was still facing forward, but I could see that her eyes were cast downward and to the side where Shelly's jacket covered us, and where our hands had been moving beneath the fabric.
I cleared my throat and her eyes darted to mine in the dim theater, her lips parting. Her eyes widened and then she whipped her head forward again, ignoring me.
Shelly grabbed my hand on top of her jacket and used her thumb to make slow circles on my skin.
I sat through the first half of the play tense and uncomfortable, trying my best to get into the performance, but to no avail. I was painfully aware of Tenleigh, as if she were some sort of magnet, not allowing me to feel anything other than the pull of her mere presence.
Relief swept through me when the lights came on and flashed for intermission. I stood up and looked next to Shelly at Tenleigh, but she was already turned and headed out the other side of the row we were in, moving with the crowd toward the lobby.
I followed the people in front of me out the other side of the aisle, Shelly right behind me, and looked around in every direction, peering over the heads of those in front of me when we flowed out into the lobby.
Shelly was saying something behind me, but I wasn't paying attention.
The smell of coffee and sweets filled the open space and Shelly pulled me over to a line at a table. "Are you hungry?" she asked.
Always. But not for food right now. For . . . something I don't know how to name.
I nodded at Shelly and stood in line with her, continuing to look around.
All of a sudden, the outside door opened and a woman stood there, hair blanketed in snow, in a wet evening gown, no jacket, and a dingy-looking banner of some sort over her shoulder and around her dress. I blinked and focused in on her. Oh shit. It was Tenleigh's mama. And she looked like a crazy, drowned rat. The dress clung tightly to her body, clearly showing her puckered, pink nipples, and a dark triangle of pubic hair. My heart dropped.
She was shivering violently, but at the sight of the crowd, she seemed to instantly warm as a bright smile took over her face and she pulled her shoulders back, gliding forward into the lobby where everyone was now growing silent as they all stared, confused expressions on their faces, some younger kids snickering.
I looked around desperately for Tenleigh, a need to protect her from what I sensed was coming, gripping me, making me feel desperate, hot, itchy.
"Eddie," Tenleigh's mama singsonged, moving more quickly toward someone standing at the back of the lobby. "Eddie, darling. I'm sorry I'm late." My head swiveled and my eyes first fastened on Tenleigh, standing frozen, a look of horrified shock on her face, and then followed her gaze to Edward Kearney, the Vice President of Drilling Operations at the Tyton coal mine and the administrator of the yearly Tyton Coal Scholarship. I clenched my jaw.
Shit. Fuck.
He was staring at Tenleigh's mama as she came toward him, his eyes wide, his expression one of pure and open horror. His wife, standing next to him said quietly, "Oh my God," as she gathered a girl who looked to be about ten years old to her. Her tone was full of disgust.
Suddenly the door swung open again and everyone's head swiveled as the woman I recognized as Tenleigh's sister burst through, wet and shivering like her mother, without the proper snow attire on. I started making my way over to Tenleigh as quickly as I could, as Tenleigh's sister called out, "Mama! Come here." I looked back at her as she let out an embarrassed laugh, looking around, obviously trying to act as casual as she could in this awful, embarrassing, very-public situation.
I felt someone grab my hand and tug and when I looked backward, it was Shelly. I shook her free and turned back to Tenleigh.
Tenleigh's mama looked behind her, a confused smile on her face, and when she saw her daughter, she stopped and said, "My goodness, Marlo, what are you doing?"
"Mama, we're not supposed to be here," she said, reaching her, and grabbing her hand. I moved closer to Tenleigh. I heard Shelly calling after me once, but I ignored her.
"Of course we're supposed to be here," she said. "This is where Eddie is. Eddie!" she called again, trying to move toward him. "Eddie, baby, I knew you'd be here, I walked all this way . . ."
"Mama," Marlo hissed, pulling on her harder. Tenleigh was moving toward them now, too, away from me. I wanted to call out to her, but I didn't want to call attention to her.
"Jesus Christ, she's a nut," I heard Edward Kearney say to my right. "Let's get out of here, Diane. There's a side door."
Tenleigh reached her mother, took her other arm, and tried to help Marlo guide her to the front door, but when her mother saw Eddie and his family leaving, she tried to race forward. Marlo lurched to grab her, and Tenleigh tripped over Marlo's feet and went sprawling onto the floor, letting out a pained cry. Shit! Shit! Shit!
Marlo grabbed her mama as her mama started screeching, "Eddie! Eddie!" turning around to flail out at Marlo, connecting with her face as Marlo cried out, too.
I reached Tenleigh and grabbed her under the arms, lifting her up and pulling her into me and to the side, as her mother continued to screech and wail and punch out at Marlo. I started to step forward to help Marlo when a couple men I recognized as local police officers who must have had kids in the play, rushed forward. I stepped back as they grabbed hold of Tenleigh's mama. She clawed at them and screamed Eddie's name.
As she fought, her dress fell off her shoulder and exposed one of her breasts. I looked away.
"Get her in your car, Bill," one of the men said. "She practically has hypothermia." The man named Bill took off his sports coat and wrapped it around Tenleigh's mama's shoulders, although she continued to struggle weakly.
"Will you drive us to the hospital?" I heard Marlo say to the officers as I looked back to Tenleigh.
"I'll walk you home," I said to her. Tenleigh didn't look at me. Her eyes were still focused on her mama and Marlo. I turned my head in their direction as well.
Marlo looked behind her as the men held her mother up and began walking her out of the building. The look on Marlo's face was panicked as she looked between their mama and Tenleigh, clearly unsure about leaving her sister. I clasped Tenleigh's hand in mine. "I'll walk her home. I'll make sure she's safe," I said. Marlo's eyes darted to Tenleigh's and Tenleigh nodded her consent. Marlo's face relaxed very slightly and she mouthed, "Okay. My turn. Meet you at home." Tenleigh nodded her head again, a look of sorrow on her face that shook me to my core.
As her mother was dragged from the building, I looked at Tenleigh again. She seemed to be in shock, her cheeks bright pink, her neck covered in red splotches as she stared straight ahead. "Tenleigh," I said gently, as she took her hand away.
Her eyes moved to mine and the heartbreak I saw there made my chest squeeze so tightly, I almost brought my hand up to massage the pain away. She looked shell-shocked as her eyes moved slowly around the room, people still gawking at her, and talking in whispers that weren't soft enough not to float above the crowd.
. . . crazy . . . affair years back . . . never right . . . gotten worse . . . shameful . . . disgusting.
I wished they'd all shut the fuck up. Tenleigh doesn't deserve this.
"Tenleigh, I need to go
tell someone I'm leaving and then I'm going to take you home, all right?" As she looked at me, some sort of understanding seemed to come into her eyes. But she remained quiet, the same look of devastation on her face. "Okay," I confirmed. "I'll be right back. Stay right here. I'll be right back," I repeated.
I started making my way back to Shelly—it wasn't like I was her ride, but I figured it was the decent thing to do, and I heard the door slam behind me. I looked back and Tenleigh was gone. Shit. I looked over to where Shelly was standing looking at me expectantly. I paused only very briefly, and then I turned and ran after Tenleigh.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Tenleigh
The tears started before I'd even taken three steps outside the door of the school. The sudden blast of cold was like a slap to my face. It felt like the physical version of what I'd just experienced emotionally, in front of most of the student body and a good number of parents, too—humiliation and deep, deep shame. I ran faster, the wind hitting my skin like razor blades, my feet slipping on the icy road.
"Tenleigh!" I heard called behind me. Kyland. Stupid Kyland who had sat two seats away from me in the dark theater as a girl fondled him under her jacket. And I had no right to be filled with hot, painful jealousy. And yet I had been. He hadn't even wanted to kiss me. He'd made that blatantly clear by pushing me away, and yet seeing him with another girl sent hurt ratcheting down my spine. I'd wanted to cry and throttle her . . . or him, or both, I wasn't even sure. And I had no right—I was no one to him. All my life I was just a nothing, a nobody. My life was small and worthless. And it hurt so badly.
"Go away, Kyland!" I screamed back at him, hiccupping and picking up speed.
"Tenleigh, stop! You're going to hurt yourself. Stop!"
"What do you care?" I yelled, still running, slipping and jutting my arms to the side, righting myself before I went down.
"Tenleigh!" I heard him gaining on me and so I picked up some snow and turned around and threw it at him, letting out a small sob. I was being an immature child—I knew it. And yet it didn't seem that I had anything to lose. The snowball hit him in the shoulder and I turned and kept running, my steps clunky and ungraceful in the snow.
"Jesus, Tenleigh!" Kyland yelled. I turned around and picked up more snow and started hurling it at him over and over as he ducked and swore, but kept coming toward me. I turned around again and ran. I got about three steps and my feet went out from under me, sending me sprawling into a snow bank to my right. I cried out and then lay there sobbing, staring up at the clear winter sky as fat snowflakes fell on my face. I felt utterly desolate, and utterly alone. I registered Kyland's footsteps quickly approaching me and then I was scooped up, his warm arms around me, lifting me out of the snow as I continued to cry, the fight in me gone. "Shh," I heard in Kyland's smooth, masculine voice. "Shh, I've got you. You're okay. You're okay, Tenleigh. I've got you."
I wrapped my arms around his neck, shivering, trying to press myself closer into his warmth, his soothing words.
He carried me a little way and then sat down and held me to him as I cried more tears from a seemingly never-ending reservoir of pain. He was murmuring something against the top of my head that I didn't compute, words of comfort. And although I didn't process them, they soothed me all the same.
I thought back to the looks on the faces around me as my mama was dragged down to the ground in her dingy, see-through dress. I squeezed my eyes shut. It had to be one of the worst hurts in the entire world—being embarrassed by someone who was meant to protect you, not humiliate you. And yet I still loved her so much.
After a little bit, my tears stopped, but I didn't lift my head. Kyland kept gripping me tightly and when I finally looked around, I saw that we were sitting in the doorway of a closed hairdressing shop—protected from the weather by the small overhang above the door. We sat together, breathing, still shivering slightly, Kyland's arms around me as I gripped his coat in my fists and took comfort in his closeness.
"Kyland," I finally murmured.
"Yes, Tenleigh?"
"I'm sorry I threw snow at you," I whispered.
"It's okay. I deserved it . . . Tenleigh, I'm sorry for tonight. With Shelly . . . it . . ." He sounded unsure of what to say.
I released a defeated sigh. "You don't have anything to apologize for. You made it clear that we're not anything to each other." Kyland was silent and when I glanced up at him, he was running his tongue thoughtfully over his bottom lip, a small frown creasing his brow. I looked back down, my chest squeezing. I didn't blame him for not wanting to kiss me. Who would want to kiss the daughter of the town crazy? Who would want to attach himself to a girl like me? The thing I heard kids whispering at school sometimes was true—I was nothing but trailer trash. He might be poor, too, but his parents didn't humiliate him in public. In fact, his father and his brother died heroically, working hard to provide for their family. My own father had taken one look at me and hit the road.
"Kyland," I said again.
"Yes, Tenleigh?" he repeated.
I lifted my head and met his eyes—dark and in shadow in the dim light of the covered doorway. "I have to tell you something."
He lifted his hand and used his thumb to wipe away a tear still on my cheek. "What do you have to tell me?" he asked softly.
"I'm not really the daughter of a Russian prince."
He blinked at me and then laughed, sudden and deep and warm.
I let out a small laugh, too, and started to remove myself from his arms. But he held me tighter so I sunk back into him, knowing I was all over the place and suddenly not caring. I needed some tenderness. God knew I did. And right that second, I was going to take what Kyland was offering me. It may be temporary, but it would be enough for now.
"No family jewels?" he asked.
I shook my head. "Not even a family pebble. Not even a family grain of sand."
I heard his lips move into a smile.
"That was just a stupid pretend game my sister and I used to play."
"It wasn't stupid," he murmured.
"It was," I said, my voice breaking again. Kyland didn't answer, but his arms tightened around me. I wished I had known that it was dangerous for girls like us to pretend to be princesses. In that moment, dreaming of anything felt dangerous. Dreams failed, and when they did, reality hurt that much more.
"I have to tell you something, too," he said.
"What?" I sniffled.
"There aren't really any bobcats on our mountain. I mean, there are, but they're no danger to us. The 'Bobcat Protection Service' was all a ruse."
"I know," I said softly. I had enjoyed his company, too. I figured that's why he had told me that.
We held on to each other in the doorway for a little while until the wind changed directions and found us again and we both started shivering.
"I need to get you home," Kyland said, helping me to a standing position.
"I'm okay now." I let out a small sound of embarrassment. "I know you left Shelly behind—"
"Shelly got a ride with her brothers. I went for the food and the heat." He stuffed his hands in his pockets.
Oh.
"Yeah, me too," I admitted. We both looked down and when we looked back at each other, we each let out an embarrassed laugh.
"Tenleigh . . . I'm sorry I kissed you." He grimaced. "I mean, shit . . . I'm not sorry I kissed you. What I'm sorry about is that I'm not going to do it again." He laughed a small, uncomfortable laugh. "I mean, I'm sorry for me, not for you. I know I'm missing out. I'm missing . . . The truth is, Tenleigh," vulnerability washed over his expression, "you might have noticed, I'm not exactly a catch anyway."
Sympathy filled me. I guessed the truth was that neither of us were exactly a catch—somehow though, that didn't make me feel better. And somehow, Kyland telling me he wasn't a catch felt like a lie he didn't even know he was telling.
"I don't have anything to offer. In six months, I won't even be here," he said.
"Kyland," I inter
rupted, "how about this, let's just be friends. I could use a friend, I guess." I paused, thinking. "And when we both leave here, under whatever circumstances we do, when we both are catches, we'll remember fondly the friend we once had back home and that'll be that. Okay? Simple." My eyes welled up with tears again and I wasn't even sure why. It didn't feel simple. I wished it did. "Do you have any friends?" I asked. So often, I'd seen him alone.
He shook his head, staring at me, the wheels turning behind his eyes. I couldn't read the expression on his face. "I haven't had a real friend since my brother died."
It felt like a balloon was inflating in my chest, pain for him replacing my own and making it difficult to take a full breath. "Seems like we could both use one then."
"Yeah," he finally said. His voice sounded sad. "Yeah."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Tenleigh
We started to walk, both putting our heads down against the sting of the wind and cold. After trudging along for a little bit, my feet were wet and I started shivering again. Kyland put his arm around me and pulled me into his body and I let him. By the time we made it to Dennville, the snow had stopped. My feet were still wet, but I was a little warmer from walking and from Kyland's warmth.
"I should call the hospital to make sure Marlo and my mama made it there," I said. There was a pay phone outside the old post office—a rarity nowadays from what I knew. But up on our mountain, cell phone reception was sketchy and many people didn't have landlines. As for us, we couldn't afford either. Kyland nodded and guided me to the small booth where I used the phone book to look up the number to the hospital where I knew Marlo would take mama—the hospital that accepted Medicaid. I fished fifty cents out of my pocket. A few minutes later they'd patched me through to the floor my mama was on and were able to put Marlo on the phone.