'I wouldn't believe everything she says.'
'Why is that?'
His hand slid lower as he nuzzled her neck. 'You smell good.'
She got the message, but did not exactly change the subject. 'Are you sure your mother won't mind us staying over?'
'I called her from Nell's a few hours ago,' Jeffrey said. 'You remember when Nell was telling you my life story?' He gave her a look that said he knew exactly what had been going on with Nell, though Sara had to assume Jeffrey would not have taken her to meet his friends without knowing exactly what would happen.
She decided to call him on it. 'This is a pretty cheap way for me to find out all about your life without you having to say a word.'
'I told you, I wouldn't believe everything Nell has to say.'
'She's known you since you were both six.'
'She's not exactly my biggest fan.'
Sara finally picked up on the tension between them. 'Don't tell me you dated her, too?'
He didn't answer, which she took for an affirmation. 'It's right here,' he said, indicating a house with a beat-up Chevy Impala parked in the driveway. Even though Jeffrey had called ahead, his mother hadn't bothered to leave on any lights for them. The house was completely dark.
Sara hesitated. 'Shouldn't we stay in a hotel?'
He laughed, helping her as her foot caught on some loose gravel. 'There aren't any hotels here except the one behind the bar that truck drivers rent by the hour.'
'Sounds romantic.'
'Maybe for some of them,' he suggested, leading her up the front steps. Even in the darkness, Sara could tell the house was one of the ones that had been allowed to fall into disrepair. Jeffrey warned her, 'Watch that board,' as he slid his hand along the top of the doorframe.
'She locks her door?'
'We were robbed when I was twelve,' he explained, jiggling the key in the lock. 'She's lived in fear ever since.' The door stuck at the bottom and he used his foot to push it open. 'Welcome.'
The smell of nicotine and alcohol was overwhelming, and Sara was glad the darkness hid her expression. The house was stifling and she could not imagine spending the night, let alone living here.
'It's okay,' he said, indicating she should go in.
She lowered her voice, 'Shouldn't we be quiet?'
'She can sleep through a hurricane,' Jeffrey said, closing the door behind him. He locked it with the key, then, judging from the sound, dropped the key into a glass bowl.
Sara felt his hand on her elbow. 'Back this way,' he said, walking close behind her. She took about four steps through the front room before she felt the dining room table in front of her. Three more steps and Sara was in a small hallway, where a nightlight revealed a bathroom in front of her and two closed doors on either side. He opened the door on the right and followed her through, closing the door again before he turned on the light.
'Oh,' Sara said, blinking at the small room. A twin bed with green sheets and no blanket was pushed into the corner under a window. Posters of half-naked women were taped around the walls, with Farrah Fawcett given a place of prominence over the bed. The closet door was the only departure from the decorating scheme: a poster showed a cherry red convertible Mustang with an exaggerated blonde leaning over the hood – probably because the weight of her enhanced breasts prevented her from standing up straight.
'Lovely,' Sara managed, wondering how bad the hotel was.
Jeffrey seemed embarrassed for the first time since she had met him. 'My mother hasn't changed things much since I left.'
'I can see that,' she said. Still, part of Sara was intrigued. As a teenager, her parents had made it clear that boys' rooms were off-limits and Sara had therefore missed the experience. While the Farrah Fawcett poster was predictable, there was something else to the room, some sort of essence. The smell of cigarette smoke and bourbon did not exist here. Testosterone and sweat had muscled it out.
Jeffrey put her suitcase flat on the floor and unzipped it
'Why is that?'
His hand slid lower as he nuzzled her neck. 'You smell good.'
She got the message, but did not exactly change the subject. 'Are you sure your mother won't mind us staying over?'
'I called her from Nell's a few hours ago,' Jeffrey said. 'You remember when Nell was telling you my life story?' He gave her a look that said he knew exactly what had been going on with Nell, though Sara had to assume Jeffrey would not have taken her to meet his friends without knowing exactly what would happen.
She decided to call him on it. 'This is a pretty cheap way for me to find out all about your life without you having to say a word.'
'I told you, I wouldn't believe everything Nell has to say.'
'She's known you since you were both six.'
'She's not exactly my biggest fan.'
Sara finally picked up on the tension between them. 'Don't tell me you dated her, too?'
He didn't answer, which she took for an affirmation. 'It's right here,' he said, indicating a house with a beat-up Chevy Impala parked in the driveway. Even though Jeffrey had called ahead, his mother hadn't bothered to leave on any lights for them. The house was completely dark.
Sara hesitated. 'Shouldn't we stay in a hotel?'
He laughed, helping her as her foot caught on some loose gravel. 'There aren't any hotels here except the one behind the bar that truck drivers rent by the hour.'
'Sounds romantic.'
'Maybe for some of them,' he suggested, leading her up the front steps. Even in the darkness, Sara could tell the house was one of the ones that had been allowed to fall into disrepair. Jeffrey warned her, 'Watch that board,' as he slid his hand along the top of the doorframe.
'She locks her door?'
'We were robbed when I was twelve,' he explained, jiggling the key in the lock. 'She's lived in fear ever since.' The door stuck at the bottom and he used his foot to push it open. 'Welcome.'
The smell of nicotine and alcohol was overwhelming, and Sara was glad the darkness hid her expression. The house was stifling and she could not imagine spending the night, let alone living here.
'It's okay,' he said, indicating she should go in.
She lowered her voice, 'Shouldn't we be quiet?'
'She can sleep through a hurricane,' Jeffrey said, closing the door behind him. He locked it with the key, then, judging from the sound, dropped the key into a glass bowl.
Sara felt his hand on her elbow. 'Back this way,' he said, walking close behind her. She took about four steps through the front room before she felt the dining room table in front of her. Three more steps and Sara was in a small hallway, where a nightlight revealed a bathroom in front of her and two closed doors on either side. He opened the door on the right and followed her through, closing the door again before he turned on the light.
'Oh,' Sara said, blinking at the small room. A twin bed with green sheets and no blanket was pushed into the corner under a window. Posters of half-naked women were taped around the walls, with Farrah Fawcett given a place of prominence over the bed. The closet door was the only departure from the decorating scheme: a poster showed a cherry red convertible Mustang with an exaggerated blonde leaning over the hood – probably because the weight of her enhanced breasts prevented her from standing up straight.
'Lovely,' Sara managed, wondering how bad the hotel was.
Jeffrey seemed embarrassed for the first time since she had met him. 'My mother hasn't changed things much since I left.'
'I can see that,' she said. Still, part of Sara was intrigued. As a teenager, her parents had made it clear that boys' rooms were off-limits and Sara had therefore missed the experience. While the Farrah Fawcett poster was predictable, there was something else to the room, some sort of essence. The smell of cigarette smoke and bourbon did not exist here. Testosterone and sweat had muscled it out.
Jeffrey put her suitcase flat on the floor and unzipped it
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