Note: I do not condone underage or excessive consumption of alcohol. I also discourage the lifestyle described in this chapter.

Warning: This chapter briefly refers to sexual activities without describing them.

Liam’s plans for the night had been all but foiled. During his time in this sleepy town, he and his cousin Ken had been holding a contest to see which of them could bed more women before Liam had to return home. They were still tied, so Liam’s plan had been to try to convince two ladies to sleep with him tonight, though he suspected it would be hard to persuade these country women to be with one another and with him at the same time. To make matters worse, the cousins were running out of options. Liam had been here for one month already and the two of them had already been with a third of the single women in town, with Liam accidentally having slept with a few who weren’t. It should have been harder for Ken to find willing partners since he was known around here, but Liam had heard many different opinions on him, all of them agreeing that despite his various character flaws, he was devastatingly handsome, enough so to overlook all the bad for a night. Liam had heard the same said about himself while he was in Manhattan. At first it had stung, to know that so many people thought his looks were the only thing about him worth a second thought. However, he had long since stopped trying to get people to like him for his personality, finding it took far more energy and costed him the peace of mind that allowed him to be rash and live free. He figured he could always improve his morality or soul or whatever people called it in the future, when he had grown tired of the many joys of sex and liquor and wanted to make a more fulfilling life for himself. Still, there was a nagging fear in the back of his mind that worried he might not be able to rid himself of his vices so easily and that maybe he really was a worthless person on the inside. He was easily able to stifle this part of his brain, though. 

But now that they had been kicked out of one of two taverns in town, their only option was to return home defeated, because the second tavern was already closed for the night and this was not the kind of place where women strolled about after dark. Not out of concern for safety, it was only that this was mainly a subsistence farming community and most people had to be up at dawn to do chores. Truly, it was only the rich, the people who worked shops and businesses, and the poorest of the poor who went out at night. Liam was often pained to know he would likely never have the experience of bedding a farm woman. It was a shame indeed.

“Tough luck, huh?” Ken looked back at him as they climbed the porch steps and walked through the white doorway into the darkened house. It was nearly midnight and all of Aunt Charlotte’s social engagements had ended for the day. Liam’s younger cousins were probably all asleep by now, except, he supposed, Susan, who had taken after her older brother in terms of rebelliousness and had started sneaking out ever since she had turned eighteen. To do what, it was beyond Liam, but he hoped she didn’t share Ken’s habits beyond the mere act of slipping away at night. She had always seemed so young to him, and Liam couldn’t imagine that it would do her any good to live the way he was living now. Sure, he enjoyed it, but he figured Jenny deserved better. Plus, she was tall, but very lean, and sex-crazed men posed a threat to her. 

Liam tried not to acknowledge the irony of this thought.  But it wasn’t like he had ever been with a woman who hadn’t wanted what he offered. He felt sure Jenny had no idea what she wanted.

Precisely at that moment, a pale green blur topped with streaming blond hair raced past the boys and ducked down a hall, one that happened to lead to a staircase that led to Jenny’s bedroom.

“Jen!” Ken chased after her. “Jen, why were you out so late? Come back here!”

Liam only stifled a laugh and made his way to the kitchen, thirsty after the fight at the tavern. The area under his eye throbbed, and he dreaded the blue bruise it would bear in the morning. Did he feel guilty for sleeping with Lily? He couldn’t quite pin down how he felt about it, but he figured if it hadn’t been him she would have done it with someone else, and besides her ring hadn’t even looked like a wedding ring. He wasn’t sure, but he thought she’d had it on the wrong finger. He had only been here for a month, how could he possibly have known she was in a failing marriage? How could he have known to stay away? Really none of this was his fault at all!

He filled a glass with tap water, trying hard to forget the accusing look the red-haired bartender had given him. How her unrelenting brown eyes had pinned him to his spot, how the sharp corners of her red mouth had wavered, fighting not to go down. She had a strong voice, persuasive and yet intimidating, but her chin had wrinkled like she was trying not to cry. Even if he couldn’t really say he felt bad for sleeping with Lily, he was undeniably guilty for whatever he had done to make the red girl sad. Whatever the world had done. It felt like his personal responsibility now. 

Still trying to shake the lingering feeling of collapsing behind his ribcage and a weight in the pit of his stomach, he finished the water and went to find bourbon. He hated feeling this way, especially when he couldn’t say why. 

The glug of the bourbon into the glass held promise of comfort and ease, and its burn down his throat was relief. He poured himself another drink, and another, until finally he felt he had crossed some kind of line and stumbled outside for air. He wasn’t sure where he was going, only that he had to get away from all these thoughts.

Incidentally, he stumbled into more of them. They came to him as a river breaks through a crack in the dam and floods the valley. As he wandered farther from the estate, he bitterly remembered why he had been sent here in the first place.

He had been expelled from Dartmouth in his second semester, which he wasn’t exactly bent out of shape about, since he hadn’t really earned his spot there in the first place. His father had donated a library and Liam had maintained slightly above average grades in high school. But it was mostly the library. 

Father had been furious, and Mother had cried, she claimed, in dread for what he would throw away in life if he couldn’t even stay in college. They both had had enough of his antics, and unsure of what else to do with him, they decided to send him to the little town of Bluebird River in Tennessee to stay with his cousins. It wasn’t so much about the fact that his aunt and uncle were strict, because they weren’t, but his parents figured that being bored away from the city would do him good in terms of fostering some semblance of maturity. So far, though, Liam had not noted any changes within himself. If anything, Ken was only encouraging him to stay the same, and the vices here were just as readily available as those in New York City. And Liam wasn’t exactly trying to change.

Maybe that was the problem. Maybe he would never amount to anything more than a drunkard, maybe he would die alone, maybe Mother was right. Because there was only so far money could go to save him, and where would he be left once he had squandered everything? But he could hardly imagine giving up his habits or actually ending up in an unredeemable position. It just didn’t seem realistic that something so hopeless could happen, and so he had no incentive to change his ways. Something would have had to stop him in his tracks and turn him around; otherwise, he didn’t see any point in trying to be different when he so enjoyed staying the same.

A melancholy tune danced at the edge of his hearing. He followed it, though he suspected he was hallucinating. It was a song like the spirits of joys now past and dead, and invoked the dances of ghosts. It was at once celebratory and heartbreaking, sweet and bitter. He sped up and chased after it, afraid that if he let it go he would somehow be lost to himself forever.