Chapter 3
SMALL TOWNS RUN ON RUMORS
“Are you coming to Chelsea’s Saturday?” Anna checked her hair in my small locker mirror. “Her parents are at the cabin, so we have no supervision. And the football team may or may not be aware that Chelsea’s parents are gone. And a certain quarterback will be there.”
Anna and I had been friends since the second grade.
We had been inseparable until she found boys in the sixth grade and I found Tristan in eighth.
“I don’t know. I have to work, and Tristan and I were going to do something.
” To say that Anna hated Tristan would be an understatement.
She detested him and everything about our relationship.
But it wasn’t always that way. That happened in tenth grade.
One day, she came over to my house, upset about something she had heard about Tristan.
She demanded I break up with him immediately.
When I wouldn’t, she told me he had done “something” to a girl in our class.
When I pushed her for more information, she started crying and told me I needed to trust her.
But by then, our friendship was falling apart, and I didn’t buy into the drama she thrived on.
This wasn’t the first time she had tried to start shit.
In seventh grade, she failed math, so she started a rumor our math teacher had beat up a kid.
Anna groaned, leaning against the locker. “You’re back with him? Why? He had his hands down another girl’s pants.”
Tristan missed school yesterday and didn’t show up at my house last night. He told me he was sleeping at his boss’s. Which meant he was sleeping something off. “It was up her shirt, and we talked.”
“You mean he talked you out of breaking up with him.” Anna rolled her eyes and pulled a piece of gum out.
I grabbed my social studies book, wondering if Tristan had gotten this assignment done. Mrs. Aldrich warned if I let Tristan copy off me one more time, she’d report me. I’m not sure to who. “No, he didn’t talk me out of anything. And why do you hate him so much?”
“Because. Hey, Jason, you goin’ to Chelsea’s on Saturday?” Anna called out to one of the football players that walked by. “He’s cute, right?” she leaned in and asked me.
“I thought you’re with Matt.” I was glad to be off the subject of Tristan.
I didn’t talk to Anna that much about Tristan.
In truth, Anna and I didn’t talk about much anymore.
We had started to grow apart more after my dad died.
A lot of my life revolved around his death.
It was a point I would always refer back to.
Anna didn’t understand how death affects everything.
She thought I should ‘just get over it.’ It was death that taught me Anna’s life was pretty simple and more than my grief separated us.
We were from two very different families.
As kids, where our parents fit into the economic food chain didn’t matter. But then things like name-brand clothing and summer lake cabins sorted us into the haves and the have-nots. And after my dad died, I was definitely part of the have-nots.
“I am, but…” She turned to me. “What are you going to wear? Not that, I hope.” Anna looked me up and down.
I looked down at my jeans and Tristan’s hoodie. “What’s wrong with what I have on? I have social studies, not prom. And what’s going on with Matt?”
“Nothing. And you won’t get Austin back, dressed like that.” Anna snapped her gum as the first warning bell rang.
“Back? We were never together. We made out one night.” I pretended to be looking for something in the pile of notebooks, hoping to catch Tristan between classes. We hadn’t really talked since Sunday. I guess forgiveness took more than just saying the word.
“You were at Twin Lakes with him.”
“No, Anna, I was there, and he showed up.” Austin had told everyone he broke up with me because I wouldn’t put out.
We couldn’t break up since we were never together.
The truth didn’t matter because small towns ran on rumors.
Lucky for me, at the same time there was also rumor that our principal was part of a motorcycle gang and killed two people.
That was more exciting than me not screwing Austin.
“Whatever. Austin’s more your type than that loser Tristan.” Anna ran her finger over the top of her textbooks.
“No, he’s not.” Austin looked like a jock.
His brown hair was cut short, and his designer clothes were always in style.
People noticed him when he walked into a room.
Not only because of his looks, but because his personality demanded it.
I wouldn’t go out with him because I didn’t fit into the narrative of his life.
I didn’t want to wear his jersey on Friday nights and cheer on the sidelines.
Plus, he literally made me sick one night.
“Yes, he is. And he’d be much better for your reputation. I didn’t want to tell you this but… people are talking, Ev. And not about your hair.” She didn’t look at me.
“The hair incident” happened when I let her talk me into going blonde. No one told me going from auburn to blonde would leave me looking like a brass fireplace implement. “I don’t give a shit what people are saying about me.” I did, kind of. “What are they saying?”
“It’s not about you, per se. It’s about him. They say he’s dealing drugs. Like, bad drugs. I saw him out at Shannon’s, you know.”
“Why were you at Shannon’s?” I looked at her.
Shannon was definitely not part of Anna’s social circle.
He was Tristan’s boss and the known drug dealer in the county.
He was a couple years older than us. He sold pot and whatever else to whoever had a buck or two.
The drug dealing was a side hustle. His real business was working on anything with an engine, and that was what Tristan did for him.
“You’re missing the point.” Anna pushed off the locker as the rest of the students started making their way to class.
“No, I think you are. They are called rumors for a reason.” I rolled my eyes.
Tristan’s life always made him the subject of most gossip.
It also didn’t help he was the first boy to get his ear and nose pierced and to get a tattoo.
At fifteen, Tristan got the letters F-U-C-K tattooed across the fingers of his right hand.
“This time it’s true. Ashley T. said her brother bought from him.”
Ashley T.’s brother was a liar. He had been sent to juvie twice and rehab once. He dropped out of school and worked at Ortin’s gas station selling cigarettes to underage kids. “Well, if Ashley T. says it, then it must be true. And so we are clear, what are bad drugs?”
Anna looked around the hallway before stepping closer. Everyone in this school smoked pot. Even the quarterback of the football team. “Cocaine.”
“Anna, seriously, you’ve been watching too many crime shows.” I knew Tristan did more than pot, especially when things at home got really bad. Which seemed to be happening more and more lately.
“Fine, don’t take me seriously, but I don’t think the U will let you in if you’re screwing a drug dealer.”
I heard Tristan before I saw him. That low timbre I could pick out in a crowded room. “Well, at least they’ll know I’ll be able to pay my tuition with my boyfriend’s bad drug money.”
“God, I’m a drug dealer now. Last week I was just a pothead loser.” Tristan shook his head as he opened his locker.
“You still are a loser. I’ll see you in class, Ev.” Anna rushed off down the hall.
I closed my locker and hugged my books to my chest. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Fine. Why?” The cut on his lip was healing but was still like a flashing sign for everyone to see. Most kids thought he got into a fight with someone his age. That was easier to believe.
“Tristan.” I could hear the teachers telling students to get to class.
“Ev, it’s fine.” He slammed his locker shut. “I might have to work tonight. Do you think Noah can spend the night? I’ll tell Mom he’s going to a friend’s.”
He was hiding something. “Sure.” I waited for him to say more. When he didn’t, I pushed off the lockers. Apparently, we weren’t okay and I didn’t know what else to do. “I gotta get to class. Drop Noah off whenever.”
“Ev.” He grabbed my arm. His hair was still damp from gym. It always curled more when it was wet. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped.
“Evan? Tristan?” A teacher rounded the corner. “Aren’t you two supposed to be in class?”
“Things aren’t good. I can’t leave Noah at home. It’s nothing more than that.”
“You promise.” I let him pull me closer.
“Yes, I promise. I’ll come over tonight when I’m done with work. Okay?” He pressed his forehead to mine
“Okay.” I closed my eyes, leaning into him. Tristan Anderson and I were so tangled up in each other that even when he pulled me close to kiss me there in the hallway with the teacher threatening to write us both up, I didn’t care about my future, only the perfect mouth pressed to mine.