Matthew Wayne Selznick

Previously: Alex Kent was disappointed to see his friend Angel Jenner had her eye on Mike Dante, and tried to find solace back home in his art. Carson Meunetti was surprised by his father’s unexpected understanding. Lina Porter passed on an opportunity to gain some life experience with Eric Finn, but put herself in a tough spot.

“Stranded”
Alex stared at the glistening canvas before him. His shoulders and chest tightened. He blinked and breathed.

“Dad… it’s the first day of summer vacation. I’ll look for a job. I just wanted to take a few days to relax.”

“Start looking tomorrow,” his father said. “You’re going to be eighteen — an adult.” He was using his no-nonsense fatherly voice, a flat tone with the slightest edge and just a touch louder than necessary. “I expect all the adults in this house to chip in and pay their way.”

Alex bit his lip. He turned toward his father. “I know that, dad. You’ve said it before.”

His father nodded. “We’ll figure out how much you can contribute once we know what you’re bringing home.” He glanced at Alex’ painting and frowned. “Getting a job is your first priority. Got it?”

Alex’ mother came up behind her husband. “Oh.” She sounded disgusted. “It’s the job thing again.”

“Yes.” His father glared at her. “Some of us have to work.”

This was well-tread ground. Alex saw his mother’s eyes narrow. “Bringing in a paycheck isn’t the only thing that keeps things running around here. Alex can help in other ways.” She gestured at her son. “And what about college? He needs time to go to school.”

His father smiled thinly and said to Alex, “The only way you’re gonna get to college is if you pay for it yourself. So you might as well get a job.” His face opened up, apparently pleased this logic also perfectly matched his demands. “You can go to class when you’re not working, so long as you keep up on your responsibilities around the house.” He shrugged cheerfully. “Don’t like it? Move out and see if it’s any better. That’s real life.”

His mother shook her head. “Dinner’s ready.” She turned away, back down the hall. “Cash only, in advance.”

Alex’ father rolled his eyes. “I’m serious, Alex. Starting tomorrow, early, hit the pavement.”

“Right.”

With a short nod, his father left.

Alex sighed. What a totally awesome first day of summer.

He cleaned his brushes. His father had introduced the “get a job, you bum” speech two years ago, when Alex turned sixteen, but it hadn’t had any traction because Alex was still in high school and couldn’t drive. The school thing was out of the way, and part of his father’s deal was that Alex could have the old Ford Pinto wagon sitting in the driveway… once he found a job, that is.

Alex could not wait to finally be mobile. It would change everything. All he had to do was avoid being rear-ended in the stupid car, which supposedly tended to explode. That was an acceptable risk if it meant getting the hell away from his father whenever he wanted.

His mother called from the kitchen. “Dinner’s getting cold!”

The phone rang, which provided much better motivation to go to the front of the house than having dinner with his parents. He got to the receiver before his mother.

“Hello?”

“Hey dude. What’s going on?”

Alex felt a thin hope that his day might at least end on a high note. “Grant, hey. Nothing much. What’s up?”

“Let’s hang out. I’m over at my parents; I can be there in ten minutes.”

Alex saw his father saunter down the hallway. His mother stood next to the stove, face tense and eyes dark.

“Thank you,” Alex said.

Grant snickered. “Another fun day at the homestead?”

“Oh, totally. Fun all around, all day long. It’s been totally jewel.”

Grant drew out a long, “Great,” and chuckled. “Pack up your guitar, dude. I’m on my way.”

Lina felt exposed and conspicuous stomping along on the shoulder of the road down the hill from the trailer park. Cars flew by. What if one of them was her mother?

She knew that was ridiculous. The chances of her mother driving on that particular road at that particular time were next to nothing, but she still fought the urge to cringe with every car that passed.

“Get a grip, Lina,” she muttered. “Just walkin’ down the street.” She bristled. “You’re not a little girl.” She raised her voice above the whine and rumble of the traffic. “You hear that, Eric Finn, you asshole?”

After trudging through the dirt, weeds and trash for ten minutes or so and getting her shoes totally scuffed and the hem of her skirt filthy, she came to a gas station. Thankfully, she correctly remembered the phone booth there. Even better, she discovered it actually had a working phone in it, and the trash on the floor wasn’t too disgusting.

Lina had all of three nickels and a dime in her tiny purse. Enough for one phone call. She bit her lip and thought about it. Who had the best chance of being home?

“Carson.” She nodded her head firmly, dropped the coins in, and dialed his number.

It rang. She let it ring. Six times. The answering machine should have picked up. He must be on the line, which was fine… he’d hear the “call waiting” beep and click over.

Ten rings. “C’mon, dammit…” Fifteen rings. She watched an old Chevy Nova pull in, a cool-looking chick with bobbed straight black hair get out, go into the station convenience store, come back out, pump her gas, go back in for her change, come back out, get back in her car, and leave.

Lina lost track of how many times the phone had rung.

She groaned and hung up. Her coins jingled into the coin return and she scooped them out. “Thanks, Carson. Not an important call at all. Feel free to ignore it.” She rolled the coins in her palm. “Hey, awesome, I’m totally talking to myself. Neat.”

She thought about who else to call. Clair was out, since Lina was supposed to be with her, at the Abbeque Valley Mall. Who would be home on a Monday afternoon on the first day of summer vacation?

Rhonda.

She dropped the coins back in and dialed. The phone rang three times.

“Hello?”

“Uh…” Lina was thrown. The voice sounded old, fragile, far from Rhonda’s brassy tone. She thought she was screwed, but pushed on. “Um, is Rhonda there?”

“I’m sorry, dear.” Definitely old lady voice. “There’s no one here by that name.”

“Oh. Okay. I guess I dialed the wrong number…”

“That’s all right, dear. You have a lovely day.”

Click.

She stared at the receiver. “You too.”

And that was it for her change. No more phone calls.

She stepped out of the phone booth and crossed her arms on her chest. This was totally fucked up.

A motorcycle growled into the gas station. She knew that sound.

Sure enough, there was Ian Pinchley with Tammy Uchio holding on behind him. They pulled up next to a pump. Ian shut down the bike and he and Tammy dismounted.

Lina called out as she walked over. “Hey, wow, small world.”

Tammy, who had shaved her head since Lina had last seen her, stared at her for a moment before recognition kicked in. Even then, her expression didn’t change all that much. Ian smiled and shook his head.

“Eric send you out for snacks?” He laughed.

“No, I walked out on his ass,” Lina said.

Tammy squinted at her. “You had a fight.”

“Yep.” She looked at Ian. “Look, I really don’t want to have to deal with him, but I’ve got to get back to the mall—”

Tammy’s eyebrows went up. “The mall.”

Lina knew the drill. Tammy was laying down her territory by being just slightly condescending. She ignored the older girl as much as she could, but knew the rest of her sentence would only give Tammy more to play with.

“— before my… mother’s there to pick me up.”

Ian kept grinning. He was enjoying this. “Your mother.”

Lina sighed. “C’mon, Ian. Gimme a break.”

Ian handed Tammy some cash.

Tammy shook her head. Lina stared at her bare skull. It was actually a good look; she had to give her that. “You go,” Tammy said.

Ian shrugged, still smiling. His blue eyes glittered. “You go, I pump. I go, you pump.”

Tammy glanced at Lina, then glared at Ian. “Jesus.” She snatched the money out of Ian’s hand and crushed it in her fist. She strode over to the gas station’s cashier window.

If Lina hadn’t been so stressed, she would have enjoyed the fact that Tammy seemed to consider her a threat. That was something to tuck away for later. Right now…

“So? Can you give me a ride?”

Ian’s grin twisted a little. “There’s only room for two on the bike. I’ll have to drop Tammy off at the trailer and come back.”

Lina didn’t mind hanging out at the gas station a little while longer. “But you’ll do it?” She looked over at Tammy, who finished up with the cashier and was headed back.

Ian started pumping gas. “Just chill here for a while.” He finished up and got back on the bike. Tammy got behind him without a word. “Just hang out.”

He started the bike. “Okay,” Lina hollered. “Thanks!”

She watched them drive away. Ian was a sarcastic asshole, but he was probably all right.

Lina walked back over to the phone booth. She decided her outfit was too messed up for her to care. She leaned against the dirty glass.

Depending on boys sucked.

Carson sat up on the bed. “Excellent! Let’s talk. How was your day?”

He imagined Tess on her own bed, tangling a finger in her frizzy auburn curls. She said, “Fine, I guess.”

“Mine was cool… until my parents hit me with this thing,” he said. “They wanted me to take off and go on a business trip with them — totally tried to hijack my summer. I convinced my dad it was more important that I stay here.”

“But why? Where was the trip?”

“Costa Rica.”

“You passed up a trip to Costa Rica?” He heard her click her tongue. “Why would you do that?”

Car was confused. “Well… part of the reason was I didn’t like being told. Not asked.” He sat up straight. “Plus, I wanted more time with you, before… you know.”

“Oh.”

She didn’t say anything else. Carson swung his legs around so that he sat on the edge of the bed. Confusion was beginning to turn to something worse, like yellowing on the edge of a photograph.

“Oh?”

She sighed. “You should have gone, Car. When are you gonna get another chance to travel like that? I would have done it.”

“You would have? What about… you wouldn’t have stayed?” He didn’t say what he was thinking: You wouldn’t choose hanging out with me for a little while longer?

Another beat of silence.

“Are you there?”

Tess said, “This is why we need to talk, Carson.”

Car found he was on his feet. He turned to untwist the phone cord from around his waist. “What?”

“Well… I mean, we’re going to be really busy this summer, getting ready for the fall. There’s so much to do before we both leave.”

“I guess…”

She sighed again, short and sharp. “I think we should break up.”

Car knew they’d have to break up at the end of the summer, when fortune took them to different coasts and different colleges. He had envisioned a bittersweet couple of months, the slow farewell, driving her to the airport, letters and phone calls to blunt the edge from the inevitable until finally their high school romance became a life-long adult friendship.

Tess wasn’t following the plan.

“What? I don’t — why now? We’ve got all summer!”

“I know… but it just doesn’t make sense to draw it out, honey. It’s, like, taking off a Band-Aide, y’know?”

Car shook his head. “No, I… what? That would make us, like, some kind of scab, or something. Is that how you see it?”

“No. Of course not.” She sounded a little exasperated. “I thought you’d get this. It’s the practical thing to do.”

“Screw practical, Tess! We love each other!”

They’d said it before in the ten months or so they’d been together. Carson had never felt it as strongly as he did now that it was being discarded.

“I know we do,” said Tess. “That’s… that’s why I think this is best. It’s less painful for both of us.”

The phone clicked. Someone was calling on the other line. Too bad. This was way more important than anything else right now.

“Less painful?” He barked a tight laugh. “Seriously?”

“Look,” she said. “I’m trying to do the right thing. I’m not gonna have any time for stuff like this. You’d just get pissed at me.”

He shook his head. “We never talked about this. In fact, we talked about all the things we were going to do, our last summer.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

The call waiting clicked again and again. Give it up!

“Car?”

“I’m here.”

“Are you okay with this? I think it’s the right thing to do…”

“You think so? What about me? What about what I think? What about what I want, Tess? Does it matter? Does what I want make any fucking difference?”

“Car…”

“Jesus! Last week… you remember? We sat on the grass and planned it all out. We had the summer all figured out, Tess — we did it together. Remember? We did it together.”

“I know… but I started to think about it…”

“But you didn’t tell me! I had no clue!” Alone in his room, he didn’t care so much when the tears blurred his eyes. He refused to let it reflect in his voice. “I just passed up a totally cool gift from my parents so I could have more time with you — so we could stick to the plan!”

The other line went on clicking.

“Is it too late for you to go..? I really think you should go, Car.”

“Yeah, I guess you would think that. Thanks for deciding that for me, too.”

“Damn it, Car!” She didn’t mind letting her own tears drain into her tone. “I don’t want you to hate me.”

Right on target. Car melted. “I don’t hate you, Tess.” He sniffed. “How could I hate you? But we’re going to be right here, in the same town, just like always, for another three months, practically… why shouldn’t we, just, do what we planned?”

“I’m not going to be around, Car… I’m sorry. It’s not as simple as you — you’re just going up the freeway. I’ve got to figure out a whole new life, in New York, too… how different is that gonna be? I’ve got a lot to figure out, a lot to plan.” She sniffled as well. “I won’t have time for us. I wish I did.”

Car sighed and wiped his nose. He couldn’t believe it. He was already resigned to it, though. What choice did he have?

What choice did he ever have?

“You there?” She sounded small.

“I’m here.” She was small. Petite and smooth and perfect and… shit. “So… will we see each other at all before you go?”

“I — yeah, we’ll have to…”

“Don’t make it sound like a hassle,” Car snapped. He immediately regretted it. “Sorry. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “I’ve got some of your books. And that Stiff Little Fingers record…”

“Oh, yeah.” He wanted that record, but it would probably be a while before he felt like listening to it, now. He tried to be okay. “So… what’d you think of it?”

“I liked “Gotta Gettaway,” she said.

So did he.

Damn it.

“That’s a good one.”

“Yeah.”

More silence. Whoever had been trying to call gave up.

Carson listened to Tess breathing.

“Okay,” he finally said. “I guess we can figure that out, eventually.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Another twenty seconds of nothing later, Tess whispered, “Good-bye, Carson,” and hung up.

…to be continued!

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