Talan

I pick up my pace, lengthening my strides. The closer I get to them, the more I realize Kinsley is drunk...

Anger explodes inside me. “You dumb son-of-a-bitch!” I lunge forward, shoving Jace and jerking Kinsley out of his arms at the same time.

Kinsley garbles, slumping down into the dirt. “Stop it, Talan.”

Gage and Tarran fly between me and Jace as Jace’s body drops into a defensive fighting stance.

“He didn’t do it, Talan!” Gage shouts while he and Tarran push me back. “It’s not his fault!”

“I didn’t give her anything to drink, Talan. I swear I didn’t,” Jace says, straightening out of his boxing stance and letting his fists fall to his sides. “I haven’t even drank anything.”

“Well, who the hell did?”

Everyone’s head snaps toward the girl they brought with them. Her name is Mallory. She’s the hot, wild daughter of a wealthy attorney with a summer cabin in the area. I don’t want to talk to her, let alone see her. I spent time with her the night I tore out of New Sable, licking my wounds after Amalia shot down my request for a drive with me; then she went to a movie with Kade the next day. 

After discovering I couldn’t hook up with Mallory because I didn’t want to be with anyone else. I ditched her the same night and have avoided her pursuit ever since.

“Someone,” Jace says with sarcasm, tossing a mean glance at Mallory, “took her to the bathroom. When she came back, she was acting a little buzzed. I asked her about it. She said all she was drinking was a Coke. I didn’t realize I needed to check.”

I cut a pissed glare at Mallory.

Mallory flips her bleached-blonde hair, lifts her chin, turns up her nose as if caring about no one but herself, and speaks as if insulted. “I didn’t know this was her first time! She’s the one who asked me for a mix!”

“I’m sick, Ama. Help me.” Kinsley’s posture sways and wobbles as Amalia tries to get her to her feet. She can’t stand up to save her life.

“Fuck!” I grit my teeth. “You had no fucking business bringing her here in the first place, Jace!”

Kinsley hits the deck again, dropping on all fours with her head bobbing above the ground, and pukes. Jace falls to his knees beside her and lifts her hair into a ponytail. “I know. Don’t you think I already thought about that?” His remorseful frown and the worry in his eyes as he attempts to help her have me halfway feeling sorry for the guy.

Mallory tells us Kinsley only drank one whiskey Coke. I bet more than half the can was whiskey. Jace holds Kinsley in his arms, keeping her hair out of her face while she barfs all over the ground.

We’re screwed. “What time is it?” I ask.

Amalia glances at the bracelet watch dangling from her wrist. “Almost nine.”

“We have roughly three hours to sober her up.” With bitter laughter, I shake my head at the predicament I brought upon myself.

Gage and Tarran help us make a small fire. Mallory comes back with two thin blankets. We make Kinsley lay down on one and cover her up with the other. She finally quits gagging and passes out with her head resting on Jace’s thigh.

I become aggravated when Mallory doesn’t go back to the bonfire. She’s trying to be with Jace, sitting beside him, acting flirty as Kinsley lay comatose. I finally have enough of her, so I tell Tarran to take her somewhere. All he has to do is ask her to walk with him. She had remarked about his pretty hazel eyes the night we met her, giving me the impression she mentally debated between us. After the fact, a few guys who had seen me with her had joked about her making her rounds. Then I found out Jaxon met her first. So, I dodged that bullet because of all my friends; Jaxon and I have the strictest bro code.

While we wait for Kinsley to sleep some of it off, Amalia and I sit cuddled together, busy devising a plan to keep us all from getting killed. I see no way out of it, and I’m already preparing to face the freight train head-on.

Amalia is more optimistic. “We’re going to need Erik’s help. We’ll have to use someone’s cell phone again and tell him what happened.”

I shout across the fire at Jace, who says he still has his cousin’s cell phone that we can use when we get back up top.

I picture Jaxon’s rage when Erik tells him I brought Amalia to the party.

Jaxon doesn’t scare me. I’ve sparred him enough in practice that we both know he can’t take me in a fight. The wrestling I did in grade school and junior high to round me out in street fights gives me enough grappling ability on the ground to manage someone of his size and strength. Still, his power and ability to withstand some of my most potent punches make him one of my most demanding practice partners. My best buddy has a solid chin, and I’m positive he’ll feel exactly like me when I heard Jace was bringing Kinsley here. I wanted to kick his ass and tell him to stay the hell away from her. Kinsley wouldn’t become that girl who got stupid drunk and did something she regretted.

The way it looks. The minute Jaxon’s back turned, I took Amalia out and to a place with drunk people and access to alcohol. A place she doesn’t belong. Although the assessment is correct, the situation was innocent and unintentional. If he refuses to see how it happened, then I’ll get pissed at him.

I groan. Jaxon should know me better than that by now.

“What?” Amalia asks.

“Ah, just thinking about Jaxon’s reaction when Erik tells him about this. It’ll piss him off enough about us, even without adding I brought you out here. It just gives him more reason to object to you and me. But I’d rather have just him against me than Mateo and Jasmine. Which will happen if your parents hear about this party and Kinsley.”

“Erik won’t tell him we came out here or Kinsley got drunk if we ask him not to tell him. He knows how Jaxon can get.”

Amalia’s optimism reassures me, and I pull her close and settle in for the next three hours. While waiting, I tell Amalia all about the boxing match I lost in Mesquite. Unable to hide the painful emotions still lingering inside me, I describe how hard I fought and how devastated I was when they announced the winner, and it wasn’t me. I don’t mean to come off sounding like a wimp; it’s just how much I’m not over the loss yet.

“That tournament is going on in Little Rock, Arkansas, as we speak. It started on Monday, and the finals are tomorrow. Man, I wish I could have been there.” I sigh, then smile as Amalia reaches for my hand and weaves her fingers through mine.

Of the few people I’ve shared my aspirations with, Amalia is the only one who believes me. Of course, they all listened, but I doubted they thought I’d accomplish the goals I set for myself. To most of our parents and the adults around our Rez, boxing is just a supplementary activity that keeps us kids out of trouble in our small, tedious community. There’s no actual future in it. And Coach Marv, who once had the potential for greatness, was reduced to a has-been. An unsuspecting babysitter filling our heads with pipe dreams.

When we were younger, Amalia was the first to ask how we performed after a boxing match. She was the first to call us for results when we stayed in another town during a tournament. She gazed at me with such intensity, hanging on to every word whenever I ended up talking about my hopes for the future to her, re-capped a boxing event, or mentioned which one of the older members of our club, Coach, set me up to spar with and how well I did against them.

I loved the affectionate way Amalia looked at me during those ordinary times. The way she made me feel when I was at my lowest during regionals made it clear. I realized she’d always made me feel great, and that was the subconscious reason I needed to talk to her the day of my most significant loss. I didn’t think anyone else would understand the magnitudes of my desire and determination to succeed, not even Old Marv. He believes I can, just not that I will. But he has high hopes for me. I try not to take his lack of faith in my dedication to heart, understanding that at his age, he’s already seen too many young, wasted talents come and go, including himself.

Amalia presses into me and kisses me on the cheek. I see the adoring gaze before my eyes again comforting me. “Look at it this way, Talan. Now that you know what to expect, you’ll be ready next year, and after tomorrow, you’ll know who you’ll beat in the championship.”

I realize I wouldn’t be with Amalia if I were in Little Rock. “Well, if tonight’s my consolation, then I guess it’s okay that I lost.”

She smiles a rosy smile. Drinking in her beauty, I gulp before touching my lips to hers and admitting that it’s as I expected it would be if I ever got with her. I’m a goner, falling deeper with every moment that passes.

We take another hike from the fire’s illumination for some privacy, not far enough away to lose sight of Jace and Kinsley, and three hours go by like the snap of a finger. It’s a bitch for me and Jace to get Kinsley to my car. Luckily, Gage is still around and shows up to help us. Jace follows us in his truck and meets us where reception is good.

“We’re on our way, Mom. Talan needs to talk to Erik about next Saturday’s boxing match. Can you put him on the phone? Erik, if you’re on the cordless, say yes; if you’re on the wall phone, say no. Good. This is serious, so take the phone from mom’s hearing range, then say nothing. Just listen.” Amalia summarizes everything that happened and then instructs Erik: “Distract Mom. Get her to stay in her bedroom until I come and get you. You’ll need to help Talan get Kinsley upstairs and into my room without her being seen.” Amalia listens for a moment, then sounds irate. “I don’t know how. Make something up, Erik.” She skips in her seat. “Oh, I know. Tell her you’re having girl problems and need her advice. She loves stuff like that ... I don’t know. Say it’s because you don’t feel comfortable talking about it in the living room. We’ll be there in fifteen. Call Mom in there in ten minutes and keep her in there! Oh, yeah, take some of Mom’s scented candles up to my room and light ’em first ... You’ll see. One more thing. Leave the light on in my room, and if you can’t get her into her room, turn the light back off. We’ll need to prepare to die before we go inside.”

“Wow.” I chuckle when Amalia hangs up the phone and turns to me. “You’re devious. You thought of everything.”

Not recognizing the tease, a hint of color spreads through her face, and she responds with a thought-out explanation. “It’s just my love of science and math and understanding variables.”

A laugh spills from my smile, and I tease her some more. “Nerd.”

Amalia catches on and owns it, biting at her grin. “You know you love it.”

She’s right. Amalia has more innocent beauty and brains than anybody I’ve ever dated. I admit to her, “I do.” She doesn’t know the truth of my reply.

As we approach her house, my eyes hit Amalia’s room, and we’re both grateful the light is still on. “I’ll keep Mom busy until you guys get Kinsley up the stairs. I know she’s eager to hear all about my night,” she says, our eyes meeting. “Don’t worry. She’ll be happy.”

“I’m not worried.” Jasmine always gave me the sense she’d be happy if Amalia and I got together.

“It’s a good thing Dad’s out of town,” Amalia says as we rumble into the driveway.

Kinsley’s functioning, so I help her out of the car. She stinks like stale booze and is dead-weight-heavy. Just the simple knowledge we’re carrying her inside and up the stairs to Amalia’s room to keep her from stumbling makes me tired.

Erik comes outside. “Holy hell, she reeks,” he says, laughing and reaching his arm under hers to take her by the waist. “Now I understand the candles.”

Kinsley opens her eyes, woozy, and notices Erik latched on to her. She lets go of me and flops her arms around Erik’s neck, sputtering into his face. “I love you, Erik Aguirre.”

Erik and I look at each other in shock. “What?” Erik asks.

I chuckle, listening to Kinsley’s drivel. “You’re the hottest guy in the entire school ... in the entire town of New Sable ... in the entire world. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“Sh...” His face glows bright red.

I can’t take it and cover my mouth with my hands, igniting with quiet laughter.

“Shut up, Talan! Let’s hurry and get her into the house already.”

Erik places his fingers over Kinsley’s mouth to keep her quiet while we both lift her to take her inside. She keeps moving her face away from his hand, slurring at him how much she loves him. Tense-jawed, he whispers back as we carry her up the stairs. “I love you, too. Now be quiet!”

When we reach the room, embarrassment is flooding out of his flaming ears, and he’s sweating.

My muffled laughter refuses to die. “Better quiet her with a kiss, Erik.”

He shoots me an angry glare. “Knock it off! She’s wasted.”

We rest her on Amalia’s bed. She rolls over, babbling about the spinning room and mumbling Erik’s name.

“Yep, and she’s all yours until Ama gets up here.” I snicker as I place Amalia’s trash can against the bed in case Kinsley gets sick again, and then I leave the room.

With more luck, and thanks to Amalia, we could actually get away with this.