Mattie
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The panting grows heavier.
“That’s it, just like that, baby.”
Not even the earbuds in my ears drown out the noise from across the hall. Sex isn’t a bad thing, but when it’s your parents and your dad has come home drunk and angry, it feels dangerous. I don’t expect it to quiet down anytime soon.
I try to distract myself by returning to my journal entry.
***
Our Hometown of Dewbridge—Journal Entry by Mattie Mackey
Dewbridge, Mississippi, is a small southern town famous for two things: clean lawns and dirty secrets. Everybody wants to leave, but most will remain.
It’s a town that has never left behind its old-fashioned ideas and morality.
It’s a town most likely to appear on the covers of those fancy home magazines Mrs. Evans, the town’s psychic, likes to read. She keeps her readings a secret because that’s another result of Dewbridge. It shelters a dark side, the kind that harbors hate, fear, and ignorance.
Our dirty little secrets are the fuel they live by to keep the home fires burning. With a church on every corner, we’re likely to burn in hell.
***
I look over the words I’ve written and sigh in frustration. We’re supposed to write about hometown love and honor in a journal to be turned in before graduation. It will be the final project of the year, which Mrs. Tolliver started for the graduating class a few years ago.
It’s stuck as an ongoing tradition that she turns into a book and displays for future classes coming in. The original plan was started as a project meant to bring us closer together and strengthen our community. Someone will have to break the news to that poor woman one day.
I wonder if she realizes it pushes more people to leave town than it does to stay.
Another loud grunt and dirty words of encouragement cut through the music playing through my earbuds.
It’s finally near the end of hay season, the season full of men on tractors for long hours, some with an endless supply of beer. Every year, I dread the summer months because for me, it means fights, drunken stupors, rumors, loud sex, and long nights.
I turn the music up to the highest volume, place my notebook on the small table next to me, and climb out of bed. Pulling off my pajama top and bottoms, I change into a pair of cutoff blue jean shorts and a red tank top before walking over to the window seat in my room.
The giant oak tree outside is my favorite part about the house and the land surrounding it. It provides me with a way to escape nights like this.
A loud thump interrupts my music. My cue to leave.
I’m not fast enough.
“Mattie, what the goddamn hell have you been doing all day?!”
My bedroom door flies open, but thankfully, I make it to my desk where several pieces of homework lie finished. I take up my pencil and pretend to be focused on something else. Mom rushes in behind Dad, but he’s already off on another tangent about how I’m a lazy piece of shit.
Mom tries to interrupt, but he’s too far gone in his drunken state. In a show of intimidation, his body staggers close enough I can smell the beer on his breath. My chair scrapes back as I instinctively move away.
Mom’s eyes are pleading. To pacify him, she wants me to agree with him until he’s back in the bedroom, where he’ll pass out. The exhaustion on her face mirrors mine.
Why aren’t we good enough in his eyes? Shouldn’t he want to be happy and sober for us?
I sigh, then I nod at her, put my hands in my lap, and look at my dad. He rants and waves his arms for an hour until the alcohol’s effects kick in. Mom guides him out, but whispers, “I’m sorry” before helping him back to bed.
Racing to the window, I’m seizing this opportunity to run, because staying feels like I’m suffocating. Leaving feels like survival.
Undoing the latch, I climb out and make my way down the tree. At the bottom, I can hear the roar of Rylan Tucker’s Polaris before it stops in front of me. My dad is too far gone to notice, and my mother will be relieved knowing I’m out of the house for a bit.
Removing my earbuds, I turn to face Rylan. His smile, a surefire hit with the girls at Dewbridge High, somehow stills the unexpected churning in my stomach.
“Wanna ride?”
With Rylan’s messy, dirty blonde hair and sleepwear, I know I’m not the only one who sleep has betrayed. Since his family moved into our neighborhood during our first-grade year, he’s been my protector on nights like these. How he knows when I need saving is beyond me.
He doesn’t say, and I don’t ask.
“Depends on the ride you’re offering.”
The twinkle in his eyes lets me know he’s enjoying where this exchange is headed. “Depends on the ride you want me to give.”
Ugh. An experienced, more polished girl who can flirt would rock this out of the water.
I, on the other hand, will come out looking like a drowned rat. My cheeks flush, and I wonder what possessed me, the Virgin Mary, to think I could turn into Scarlett O’Hara.
Climbing beside him, I choose the silent treatment and hope the darkness hides my embarrassment.
“C’mon, Mack. Don’t you think it’s time to grow some balls?”
Leave it up to Rylan to keep egging it on. Of course, he would be the type to tread water. Fine, I’m not about to drown.
Sputter, maybe. Drown, no.
I lift an eyebrow in his direction. “Good thing I’ll never have to worry about that.” I make myself comfortable before smiling at him. “I could say the same for you. I consider yours damaged goods by now.”
As he shifts into drive, he throws his head back and laughs. “Well practiced, Mack, but never damaged. Maybe I should take tips from your dad.”
Covering my face with my hands, I groan. “Please tell me you didn’t hear any of that.”
He drives the side-by-side onto a familiar path in the woods beside our land. It ends at a small creek in the back.
Our houses aren’t that close together, and the difference between them is massive. His driveway leads to a mansion, whereas ours leads to a modest two-story. The white paint on the side is peeling, and the furniture outside has seen better days.
The land around our home is where we have an advantage over Rylan’s family. Still, that’s fought over every year between my father and his brothers.
“News flash. They should keep their windows closed. From what I heard, your dad makes my A-game look weak.”
“Thanks for the visual. I’ll forever see my parents when picturing you naked.”
I am a complete idiot. My cheeks now feel like they’ve gone nuclear. Closing my eyes, I pray he’s enough of a gentleman to let that one slide.
“You picture me naked?”
I guess not.
“You wish,” I reply, though my voice lacks strength.
Rumors say Rylan’s bedroom performance matches his football skills. Lots of rumors and gossip. That’s something easy to come by for a girl like me.
No one notices the poor farm girl sitting behind them. No one, that is, but Rylan Tucker.
As kids, he found me weeping in the field near our home, behind a hay bale. With a kite in one hand, he grabbed my hand with the other, and before I knew what was happening, we were laughing and chasing each other with the flimsy plastic floating behind us. That afternoon changed my life.
Our ride through the woods is silent for several minutes before he stops by the giant magnolia tree next to the creek. Getting out, Rylan grabs a blanket from the back and spreads it on the ground before him. It’s not long before I’m lying on my back staring at the same moon and stars he is.
“Thank you for saving me tonight.”
My cheeks still flush with shame, even now. Despite Rylan’s repeated rescues, my family life still embarrasses me. And if he heard what was going on in my parents’ bedroom, then he also heard the ugly words dad hurled my way.
“I have your back, Mack.” His lips curl up at the corny rhyme.
I roll my eyes. Some things never change.
“You can always count on me.”
I concentrate on trying to fit the stars together in my own connect-the-dot fashion while pondering that statement. I’m not drop-dead gorgeous by anyone’s standards. My blonde pixie cut is a couple of shades lighter than Rylan’s.
He declares it’s his favorite part about me. My short hair, he says, really makes my blue eyes stand out. To be honest, it’s easier to deal with, giving me more time to concentrate on my work at the animal clinic and my schoolwork.
“You don’t have to give up your time to help me. This is our senior year.”
I turn my eyes away from the picture I am drawing in the constellations to find Rylan studying me. His dark green eyes radiate a gentle warmth that makes my chest tighten, yet there’s something else hidden I can’t quite put my finger on.
“Why are you here with me? It’s a Friday night. School’s about to start on Monday. Aren’t there some parties to attend?”
“I didn’t feel like it tonight.”
My eyes widen, and my mouth opens as I feign the shock I’m actually feeling, but I won’t let him know that. “Rylan Tucker doesn’t feel like a party? Never thought I’d see the day.”
A flicker of pain crosses his face before the smile I love so much surfaces. His humor is back. “I figured I’d give that first day a shade of mystery. Let them wonder what happened to their quarterback. Allow me to work my magic.”
Whatever he’s not telling me feels heavier than the summer night air.
Again, I look up, quietly counting the stars. That way, I refrain from saying what I want. He deserves more than spending this time with me.
Spending time with me will only hurt him in the long run.
“One more year, Ry, and then you can go show the world who you are.”
“I don’t need the world to show me who I am. I already have someone who believes in me.”
When his hand grabs mine, I don’t pull away. Instead, with our fingers interlaced, we bet against the constellations.
It’s an impossible number to count, making it a stupid game, but it doesn’t matter. It’s a safe topic, and everything about us is safe.
His hand in mine makes me feel secure, safe, loved. I need to let go, but for some reason, I don’t, even though holding his hand puts me too close to his world. A world that would never accept me.
I’m not good enough.
I never will be.
I know why he’s here. He’s here to keep me company until my father passes out and I can return to a silent house.
Yet as I glance at him, he is again scrutinizing me. Rylan is like the brother I never had, but tonight feels different.
“Mattie.” He swallows but doesn’t waver.
He turns on his side, fully facing me now. Determination written all over his face.
“Come live with me.”
I almost laugh, until I realize he’s serious. No smile on his face, no teasing.
“I’m serious. Come live with me.”
My heart slams against my ribs. Because if I say yes, everything in my life will change.
And in Dewbridge, change never goes unnoticed.
