Page 2 of Our Crooked Hearts
“Come out.” Her voice was low, smudged and hardened by some unplaceable accent. It rose into a singsong. “Come out, come out, whoever you are.”
She rose like a backwoods Venus, dirty creek water running out of her hair, down her body, beading through her serious seventies bush. She whistled, piercing and clear. “I said show yourselves, motherfuckers.”
She was naked, she was alone, she couldn’t even reallyseeus, but just like that we were the ones who were afraid. I felt the tremor in Nate as he saw how this was gonna go. “Fuck this,” he muttered.
The girl stepped onto the bank. She was large-framed and underfed, her hair a sticking mermaid curtain, but the thing I couldn’t look away from was how she held herself, without the barest awareness of her body. Like she was a baby, or a bird.
With a blunt suddenness she raised her arms, conductor style with their palms held flat. We flinched, both of us, because it seemed like something was supposed to happen. When nothing did Nate tried to laugh. It came out dry.
She dropped into a crouch. Eyes turned in our direction, feeling along the ground until her fingers found a fallen branch, thick and a few feet long. Hefting it, she stood. Nate cursed, shoving his phone into his pocket, and the girl stopped mid-stride. With its light gone she could see us, too.
“Ivy, let’sgo,” Nate growled.
“Ivy.”
The girl repeated my name. The word in her mouth was heatless, heavy. I squinted at her, confirming she was a stranger.
“What’s wrong with you? Come on!” Nate yanked my arm hard enough that my shoulder burned. Then he was stumbling away, swearing at every tree branch that swiped him, every divot in the ground.
Over my tank top I wore a washed-thin button-up from Community Thrift. I slipped free of it and tossed it in her direction before following him.
“Thank you, Ivy,” she said, when I was almost too far to hear.
When I reached the road Nate was back in the driver’s seat. He drummed his hands on the wheel. “Get in!”
I was cranked up and weirded out and scared enough to listen. The music restarted when he turned the key and we both reached to slap it off, then snatched our hands back as if any contact might burn.
I didn’t speak till we were out of the trees. “That girl. Did you hear the way she said my name?”
He shrugged, barely.
“Did she know me?” I persisted. I didn’t think I’d forget meeting a girl who looked like that, the colors of a lemon sucked dry.
“How am I supposed to know?” Nate asked sullenly.
I pulled the mirror down to inspect my lip and cursed softly. Already it stuck out like the peeled half of a stone fruit.
We drove the rest of the way in sticky silence. When Nate stopped at the end of my drive, I reached for the passenger door. He locked it.
I reared to face him.“What?”
He flicked the dome light on and sucked in through his teeth. “Oh, man, that looks bad. Look, I’m really sorry. Are you okay?”
“I’m awesome. Let me out.”
“Okay, but—” He swallowed. “What are you gonna tell your mom?”
I gaped at him. Cigarette behind his ear, peeping at me through those eyelashes that made older women smile and say,What a waste, on a boy.I started, helplessly, to laugh.
His posture went rigid. “What’s so funny?”
“You. You’re scared of my mom, aren’t you?”
“So what?” he spat. “You’re scared of her, too.”
I turned away, face burning. When I flipped the lock again, he relocked it. “Nate! Let me. The fuck.Out.”
Someone banged their fist on the driver’s side window.
