Once they were in town, Spencer disappeared into the hardware store. There was a vending machine by the gas station on Central Street where they grabbed some cold sodas and chips. Ren and Oscar wandered around, licking their cheese-covered fingers and laughing together with sticky mouths, not aware that anyone else even existed. For all they knew the entire populace of Consequences had been reduced to ash by some cosmic apocalypse. They sat on the pickup tailgate, side by side with their hips touching while Oscar talked in an excited voice about caves.
Hanging out in the back of a pickup truck in some small town that didn’t even warrant a map dot, beside the boy she was falling in love with, Ren felt as far away from Hollywood as she could get. It was a good feeling.
Then a woman resembling a muskrat, tiny and matted, stopped right in front of them. She smelled like she’d perfumed herself with nicotine.
“You’re one of those Savage girls,” she said in a monotone that hinted at nothing.
“I am,” Ren answered warily. Long accustomed to being known for what she was - or rather what her family was - than who she was, she was prepared to be annoyed. Ever since they’d moved out here to Atlantis they’d been treated with polite suspicion by most of the locals. Most had no memory of Rex Savage or of the golden era of cinema that briefly made the area a place of interest. They only knew a bedraggled family with a famous name had moved into their midst.
The woman shifted her gaze to Oscar. “But you’re not one of them boys, are you?”
“He’s not my brother,” Ren blurted and blushed, irritated with herself for explaining anything to this prying stranger.
“I’m not her brother,” Oscar confirmed in an amused voice and he slung a casual arm around Ren’s shoulders. “I’m her cousin.”
The woman had no more questions after that. She pursed her bloodless lips together and ducked into a paint store.
“Think we scandalized her without even trying,” Oscar laughed.
Ren had wished he would keep his arm around her. But he removed it as soon as the woman was gone.
Now though, in the darkness with nothing but the yips of coyotes in their midst, there’s something about the thickness of his breathing and the way his hand squeezes her shoulder. Like he wants more and he’s considering taking it.
“Come with me,” he whispers, grabbing her hand.
Their steps are soundless as the thunder drowns out everything but its own complaints. When there’s a lull in the rumbling Ren hears music; crashing, angry music from another era.
“Monty.” Oscar nods in the direction of the brothel.
Out of the night comes the brief, piercing howl of female laughter.
“Sounds like he has company.”
Oscar snorts. “That he does. And he’s sure as hell not shy about keeping it in the bedroom. Or in his pants for that matter.”
Ren feels her face getting hot. “A little TMI, dude.”
“Believe me, not as much TMI as I’ve suffered tonight.”
“Gross. Just do me one favor, Oscar, and keep it to yourself.”
He laughs, nudges her shoulder. He’s teasing now, flirting. “I’ve been keeping everything to myself, Loren.”
“What does that mean?” She knows what it means.
He raises his strong arms toward the sky and stretches. “It means this whole goddamn desert stay has been one long drought.”
This is what he does, this flirty banter that never ends with anything more than handholding. Sometimes Ren thinks he’s testing her. Other times she thinks he’s holding himself back for another reason, a vague sense of honor or a funny feeling that there’s a line that shouldn’t be crossed.
Or maybe he just thinks she’s ugly.
Ren withdraws her hand, tosses her hair. The storm has receded, passing them by after all. They are beyond Atlantis now. It’s a bad idea. You never know what lurks in the desert brush and none of it will announce itself in the darkness. It’s the one thing August always warns them about.
“A drought, huh?”
“Yeah. At least I’ve got my blue balls to keep me company.”
Ren sniffs, deciding she’s a little insulted. “All those fancy schools and they skimp on etiquette lessons. Mina might be upset when she realizes she didn’t get her money’s worth.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Means you talk like a man whore sometimes.”
Oscar stops walking. He allows a long minute to pass before speaking. “Thought you figured a few things out about me already. Being a gentleman doesn’t come naturally to me, Ren.”
“Then don’t be one.”
She tosses the words off frivolously. When he grabs her wrist it’s a shock.
“Stop,” he warns. His tone says he’s not kidding anymore.
She’s defiant. “Why?”
He’s closer now. There’s a sweet smell on his breath and she recognizes it. Beer. He must have snagged a can or two from Monty. He’s got her other wrist and if he moves an inch closer their bodies will press together. He’s so much bigger than her, so much stronger. Her head begins to swim.
“Because,” he snarls, “if I kiss you, Loren, there’s no fucking way I’m going to stop.”
He says it like he can’t imagine anything worse.
She shakes her hand loose from his grip and reaches for him, touches his face. He turns his head away and spits a curse, something in another language that she doesn’t recognize. The humiliation stings.
Ren tears away from him and begins stalking back to the house. All their teasing during the long, hot days of the last month and they’ve never fought. They’ve also never kissed. What kind of an idiot is she anyway? They’re not falling in love. They are just two bored kids who can’t find anyone else around worth talking to. Even if they were to mess around it wouldn’t mean shit. Oscar has told her a few things about himself already, about all the girls. To him, she would just be another one. Forgettable.
Oscar doesn’t let her get far. He catches her from behind and his arms wind around her body, holding her tight against his hard chest.
“Let me go.” She kicks at him.
“Why the hell are you acting like this?”
“Look, I feel like enough of a jackass already. Just leave me alone and maybe Monty can find you a friend to help end your fucking drought.”
He spins her around. Roughly. His hands are on her face and then his fingers are all wound up in her long dark hair. He’s forcing her to look at him even though there’s no light in the sky and she can hardly see his face.
“Damn you, Ren! I can’t just treat you like any girl. You know how many there’ve been? You don’t know because I don’t even know. Not one of them has meant a thing to me except a good time. I’ve been bouncing around from place to fucking place since I can remember. I don’t even have real friends and the only family I have is a woman who forgets who I am most of the time.”
He coughs at the end but relaxes his hold on her. Ren reaches up, finds his lips with her fingers, tracing them.
“I’m your friend,” she whispers. “I’m your family.”
A small groan rips out of his throat. He kisses her. He’s not soft or hesitant like the few other boys she’s kissed. All she can think is my god, my god, my god. She would sink right into the desert floor if he wasn’t holding her up. This, she knows, is how a kiss should be. This is the one she’ll compare all others to for the rest of her life.
A sonic boom of thunder cuts loose overhead and the sky opens up. The storm that had seemed to roll back into the Harquehalas has returned with a vengeance. They are soaked to the skin within seconds but their mouths stay glued together. It seems nothing can conquer the power of that kiss. It is cosmic, it is limitless.