When Guthrie and I got to Butch's, it was already busy and hopping with lots of teenagers.

We worked our way thru the crowd, and I asked Guthrie, "Are you sure Kenny and Trent are

going to be here?"

"They said they might be. Probably be," Guthrie answered, in a careless fashion, and I thought

how different guys were than girls in that way. Girls, at least the ones I knew, liked to know what

they were doing on a weekend, exactly what they were doing. And who they were going to meet up with.

"Well, what about Lori?" I asked.

"You can call her," Guthrie said, pointing to the pay phone on the wall.

After we'd located Kenny and Trent and Lonnie, too, they all started a game of pool, and I went to

call Lori. When she got there, she and I watched the guys play for awhile, and I drank

two Cokes, even though I knew that I shouldn't.

Lori and I wandered outside.

"What do you want to do?" she asked me. "Sit around here?"

I shrugged. "What do you want to do?"

"We could drive around," she suggested. "Or we could go to that party that Miranda's having."

I gave her an eyes widened look. "Seriously?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"I don't think Guthrie will go for it."

"We'll just go over and stay an hour or so, and then come back to meet up with Trent and Guthrie," she

said. "We don't have to say anything about where we're going. That way Guthrie won't throw a fit. Or Trent either.

He doesn't like Miranda very much."

"Okay," I said, and we went inside, where I cornered Guthrie and told him that Lori and I were

going to drive around awhile, and maybe go to a friend's house.

"When are you gonna be back?" Guthrie asked.

"I don't know. A couple of hours. You'll still be shooting pool anyway, won't you?"

"Probably."

"Okay. Bye." As I turned to walk away, Guthrie caught at my arm.

"Okay. But, hey. Don't be late gettin' back. And don't do anything dumb."

I shook his hand off like a pesky fly. "Honestly, Guthrie, you're getting to where you sound

like you're about eighty years old."

"Yeah, yeah," he said. "Whatever. I'm serious."

"Bye, Guthrie," I said, in a sing-song voice.

"Yeah. Bye, Guthrie," Lori joined in. "And bye, Trennnt!"

Giggling, we went outside to where Lori had parked her mother's car. We drove past the Dari

Kurl, and then on towards Miranda's house.

As we were driving along, I had a sudden guilty feeling about fibbing to Guthrie about where

I was going. He wouldn't have been happy by any means, if I'd told him, but he would have

only grumbled at me, and then likely he and the other guys would have gone with us.

Well, probably he would have. At least there was a 50-50 chance that he would have. Well, maybe

not 50-50. Maybe 70-30.

Another unpleasant and unwelcome thought occurred to me.

What was it that Evan had told me? No going to parties without Guthrie? Yeah, no going to parties

without Guthrie.

Hmm. I bit my lip a little, and told myself there was nothing to worry about. I'd tell Guthrie the

truth later, and Evan didn't have to know.

There was a huge crowd at Miranda's house, which is about five miles west of Murphys. We hadn't been

there very long at all when we found out that it wasn't only Miranda's party, but her older brother's party, too.

Her brother was at least Ford's age, and so, since they hadn't lived here very long, I didn't really know

him. But, since he had obviously invited people, too, there were a lot of older people there.

There were people everywhere. On the front porch. In the yard. In the barn. Roaming across the pasture

towards where lights were shining onto a lake.

After we'd walked around and talked to a lot of the kids from school, we both went to get a drink

from one of the coolers. I'd already made up my mind that I wasn't going to be dumb and drink anything

alcoholic. So I sipped on a can of Sprite. Lori, too, opted for a soda instead of beer. We walked down to

the lake with some of the other girls from our class at school, Chelsea and Tara.

The four of us got in a canoe, and started to drift out into the center of the lake. There were other

canoes and rowboats around us, and with the lights they had set up, it was really kind of cool. I was

having fun, even when Chelsea pulled a can of beer from each of her jacket pockets.

I'd been able to tell that she had been drinking already for awhile, but I hadn't been too worried, since

I didn't plan on drinking myself.

She held out a can of beer to me. "Want one, Harlie?" she asked.

"No, thanks."

"How come?" she asked, peering at me in the darkness.

"I just don't want any."

"Okay," she said with a giggle. "More for me."

We drifted around for awhile, talking, and I was enjoying myself. It was kind of relaxing, drifting in

the water at night like that. A thought occurred to me that it would be fun if we had a lake at home this large, and

then we could do this, too. Not to mention the fishing that Guthrie and I could do.

I was kind of leaning back a little, letting my hand trail thru the water. None of us was paddling

at that time. Somebody in one of the other boats had started to sing, and other people were joining in.

It was going too well. I mean, this is me we're talking about, after all. Something had to happen to

ruin it, right?

This certain something happened to be when Tara, who'd also been drinking, started to stand up

in the canoe.

Lori and I both yelled at her to sit down, and Chelsea, who was laughing, grabbed at Tara. The

canoe rocked, and I had visions of all of us being dumped into that dark, freezing water. I can swim

alright, and all, but I still panicked at the thought of going down into that water.

Tara sat back down, and the canoe stayed upright. I breathed a sigh of relief, just before

Chelsea, in a fit of giggling, emptied the entire contents of her second can of beer on the shoulder

of my jacket, and the front of me.

I hollered at her and she said she was sorry, but was still laughing while she said it.

"You okay?" Lori asked me.

"Yeah. I'm going to smell like beer now, though."

"It's probably been almost two hours since we got here," she said. "You want to head

back to town?"

"Yeah, we'd better," I agreed. We paddled back to the edge of the lake, and after telling Tara to get

out first, Lori was holding the canoe steady so I could get out, when Chelsea, in another fit of laughter,

purposely stood up and started rocking the canoe back and forth.

Lori lunged forward to prevent the canoe from tipping over, and in the process got her boots wet.

As far as I was concerned, despite Lori's efforts, Chelsea and I both fell into the water. While it was only a couple

of feet deep, it still managed to give me wet jeans up past my knees and soak my good boots.

I was good and mad, and I went with Lori towards her mother's car, without even saying goodbye

to Chelsea at all.

"Good grief," I said, with a huge sigh of disgust as Lori and I settled ourselves into the car.

"Whew," Lori said. "I hate to say it, but you really do smell like beer."

"I have to figure something out," I said. "If Guthrie smells it, he's going to get mad."

"Tell him somebody spilled it on you. He'll believe you, won't he?" Lori asked.

"He probably would," I agreed. "But then he'd yell at me for going out there without telling him and all

of that."

Lori turned up the heat full force since both of us were shivering.

"We could go to my house and get some dry socks and stuff," she said. "But my mom will

start asking lots of questions."

"It's okay," I said. "I'll be alright." I shrugged out of my jacket, tucking it between my feet on the floor

of the car, so I didn't have to smell the beer on it.

"My feet are freezing," she said, as we drove slowly back towards Murphys.

"Mine are too."

As we came back into Murphys, and down the street in front of Butch's Place, it seemed like there

were even more cars and trucks parked outside than before.

She parked and shut off the motor, and we sat there for a minute.

"If I don't wear my jacket in, maybe the smell of beer won't be so noticeable," I said hopefully.

I could tell she didn't really want to go inside, and I didn't blame her. She could slip into her house, and

change her wet clothes, and everything would be fine. She didn't have to go inside to face anybody.

"It's okay," I told her. "Go on home if you want."

"Are you sure?" she asked, feeling obviously guilty.

"I'm sure. Go on. I'll think of something to cover for you if Trent asks."

"Thanks, Harlie," she said gratefully.

"It's okay. I owe you for the other night, anyway, when you let me come over before

I met up with Karissa."

We said goodbye, and I watched as she backed out, and drove down the street towards her house.

I took my beer-coated jacket and tossed it into the back of Guthrie's truck.

I tried to sniff my sweater to see if it smelled like beer, too, but I didn't really think that I

smelled any on it. I thought that beer was probably very bad for cashmere.

I shivered. It was cold standing out here in the night air. I suddenly wished that I was at home, drinking

hot chocolate, sitting next to Crane while he read out loud from the latest historical novel he was reading.

I was standing so still, so deep in my thoughts, that I jumped a little, startled, when

somebody behind me said, "Hey, Harlie."

I turned quickly to see Eddie standing there. He had his hands jammed into his pockets, and the

collar of his jacket turned up against the wind. He gave me a smile.

"Hi."

"What are you up to?" he asked.

"Nothing much," I said. "What are you doing?"

"Just been shootin' some pool. I'm getting ready to head back in."

"That's good," I said, and wrapped my arms around myself, rubbing my arms.

Eddie kind of looked me over, and I knew he was likely wondering about the fact that I was obviously

cold, but not wearing a jacket, and also, if he'd looked close enough, that my jeans were soaked

from the knee down.

"You headin' in, too?" he asked, sort of casually.

"Yeah. I need to hunt Guthrie up."

"I saw him in there earlier." He pulled the door to Butch's open, and waited for me to pass in front of him. "I

need to try to redeem myself. Evan's been kicking my butt at pool tonight."

I stopped walking so fast that Eddie nearly walked into me.

"Evan's here?" I asked.

"Yeah. So is Ford. Sure is good to see that rascal. I haven't had a chance to shoot pool with him

in a long time-"

"Ford's here, too?" I asked, interrupting Eddie.

"Yeah," Eddie said again, giving me a puzzled look. I knew that I sounded panicked, and I also knew

that he was wondering what was wrong with me. I hadn't known that Ford was coming home this weekend! And

I didn't really want to face anybody but Guthrie. Most especially not Evan.

"I think I'll sit out here for awhile," I said.

"Yeah?" he said, wrinkling his forehead at me. "How come? Don't you want to see Ford?"

I looked up into Eddie's handsome face. He had to know that I would be crazy eager to see Ford, even

without knowing that it had been almost a month since Ford had been home for a visit.

"I do want to see him," I said quietly.

Eddie nodded. And waited.

I didn't explain anything more. I just said, "I'll be inside in a second."

"Alright. You want me to give Ford a heads up? Let him know you're out here?" he asked.

I thought for a moment. That would be okay. As long as Ford kept my wet and beer-smelling appearance

to himself. And didn't share it with Evan.

"Yeah. That would be good," I said. I gave him a small smile. "Thanks, Eddie."

"No problem." And then, for just the merest of seconds, he touched my hair, letting one of my

curls run thru his fingers.

"See you around," he said, letting his hand drop.

"See you," I said, my heart pounding at his nearness, and at the way he'd touched my hair. I tucked the moment

away in my mind to mull over later.

I watched him walk away, and then went to get into Guthrie's truck, peering under the seats with a flashlight

to see if he'd left his keys so I could warm up. But I couldn't find them, so he must have them in his pocket.

I was searching under the seats for a sweatshirt, so I didn't see Ford coming up, until

the truck door opened, and he was there. Grinning at me under the street lights.

"Hey, you," he said.

"Hi, Ford!"

I sat, and he stood, until he spoke up, "What does a guy have to do to get a hug around here?"

"Say pretty please," I joked.

"Come here, you brat," he told me, and pulled me down and to him, giving me a rib-crushing

hug.

I squeezed him back, and then leaned back a little, to look at him, forgetting for a moment how

cold and wet that I was.

"I didn't know you were coming home tonight. It'd be nice if you'd tell a person," I scolded him, teasingly.

"It was a last minute decision. I got lonesome for everybody."

"I'm glad to see you." I sat back down on the edge of the truck seat. "You look good."

"You look good, too. I brought Captain Jack home."

"Oh, that's good! I can't wait to see him."

"Yeah." He looked me over. "Where have you been? Guthrie said you went to a friend's house

or somethin'."

"Yeah. Sort of."

"Why are you sittin' out here? You hiding from somebody?"

"Not exactly."

"Well, come inside. I've got a game of pool to finish."

"I'm kind of tired. I think I'll just wait out here until Guthrie's ready to go home."

Ford cocked his head a little and gave me a puzzled look. "What's wrong with you, fruit loop?"

"Nothing. Really, Ford, I'm fine out here."

"Well, where's your jacket?" he asked.

"Oh, it's in here somewhere," I said vaguely.

"Hmm," he said, and I gave his shoulder a pat.

"Go on back inside, and finish your pool game. Have fun," I told him.

"You look like you're really cold," he said then.

"A little. I'm okay."

Ford looked at me for another moment or so, and then he said, "I'm about ready to head on home. You want

to go with me? That way Guthrie can stick around for a while if he wants to."

I tried not to look too eager, and give myself away. "That would be great. If you're sure, I mean-"

"Sure. I was losing anyway. Let me go in and tell Evan and Guthrie, and get some keys," Ford said.

"Okay," I said, thinking of how good it was going to feel to get warmed up. I got out and retrieved my jacket

from the back of Guthrie's truck bed. I put it on, thinking that I was going to tell Ford about everything anyway, so

it wouldn't matter if he smelled the beer.

It was while I was pulling my jacket on that I saw Ford coming back out, and then, right behind him, was Evan.

"Bat shit!" I cursed.

"Come on," Ford said, giving me a push towards Evan's truck.

"I thought it was going to be just you and me," I hissed at Ford. "I wanted to talk to you!"

"We can still talk, can't we?" Ford asked, sounding unconcerned.

Evan had gotten into the driver's seat, and started up his truck. Ford, behind me, opened the

passenger side door, and then gave me another push to make me get in.

I pulled off my jacket, yet again, really fast, and tossed it into the back of Evan's truck, right before I climbed in.

"What are you doing?" Ford asked me, right at the same time that Evan said,

"You might want to leave that on until it gets warmed up in here."

I didn't answer, I just settled myself in the middle part of the seat, and Ford got in beside me,

As Evan backed out, and they started talking to each other, I wrapped my arms around myself, trying

to keep my teeth from chattering. My toes were so cold they were starting to ache.

"Where'd you go?" Evan asked me.

"Huh?" I asked, knowing exactly what he meant, but not wanting to get into it.

"Guthrie said you left with Lori to go somewhere else."

"We just went to drive around for awhile," I said, trying to sound casual. "And talk to some people."

Evan nodded, like everything was okay with what I said.

They started talking again. Ford was telling a funny story about Captain Jack. I was only half-listening,

though. I wondered if the boys would notice if I were to reach out and turn one of the vents so that the

heat was blowing directly onto my soaked knees and my feet.

I couldn't help shivering again. I just couldn't help it. I reached out to adjust the vent directly in front of me.

It felt so good blowing on my legs.

"Aren't you startin' to get warmed up by now?" Ford asked me.

"A little," I said.

"Why'd you take your jacket off?" he asked then.

"It got wet," I said, leaning forward a little to get closer to the blowing hot air. In doing so, my leg brushed against

his, and he reached out to touch my knee. Before I could jerk away or do anything else, he let his hand go on down the

calf of my leg.

"You're soaking wet," he said, as if telling me something that I didn't already know. "What happened?"

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