Fancy White Trash by Marjetta Geerling Page B

over there,” I say to the guys. “Sorry you have to see this, Brian.”
    â€œNo, it’s fine.” He has that look in his eyes that explains exactly why Jerry Springer has been on the air for so long. Who doesn’t like a nice white-trash scuffle now and then?
    Cody hugs me before I go. “Come over later if you need to. You can sleep here.”
    â€œI know.” It wouldn’t be the first time I’d hidden at Cody’s. I rest my chin on his shoulder and whisper, “Cody, give Brian a chance, will you? He seems so nice.”
    Cody steps back, shoves me away from him. “What? What did you say to me?”
    â€œI was trying to be discreet.” I look meaningfully in Brian’s direction. Brian is politely pretending not to pay attention, standing in front of Cody’s bookcase with his attention fixed on the collection of Little League trophies across the top.
    â€œI am not gay.” Cody’s voice is low, but then he says it again louder. “I am not gay.”
    Brian’s head whips around. I feel like I’m going to cry because I’ve never seen Cody look at me like this. Cold, flat. Like I’m no one to him.
    â€œI . . . I didn’t mean . . .”
    â€œYou! You know I’m not! Say it, Abby.”
    â€œYou’re not gay. Okay, Cody, you’re not. I’m sorry.” Tears stream down my cheeks, but unlike the rest of my family, when I’m upset I get quieter, not louder. “Don’t be mad,” I whisper.
    â€œGet out.” He points to the open door. He’s talking to me, but his eyes are on Brian. The coldness I see in him stutters my heart. It beats overtime, like a drummer on speed, when Cody says in his dead-serious way, “Abigail Elizabeth Savage, don’t bother coming back.”
    Brian leaves through the door but I slip out the window, slide across the ledge, and land on the sandy ground. I wonder if what I’ve done is unforgivable.
    Brian walks down to the street, where his car is parked. I catch up to him. Over the shouting in the driveway, I say, “I’m sorry.”
    â€œIt’s harder for some guys than others. Don’t worry about it.”
    â€œI’ll still help you with your closet.”
    The smile he gives me is a dull version of the real thing. “Forget about it. I’d never be able to keep it clean anyway.”
    He drives away and I turn to face my family. Still outside, still yelling. Now it has escalated to the point where no one is taking turns. They are all shouting or crying, and waving their hands around. Mrs. Duran has been joined by her husband, and they appear to be enjoying the show.
    I put on my sternest face. I reach deep inside for the voice I use when Hannah is about to do something life-threatening and I bellow, “Everyone! In the house! Now!”

Chapter 10
    Inside, Jackson sits at the kitchen table, eating our leftover pizza from last night.
    â€œMake yourself at home,” I snap, and collapse into the chair across from him. Although I was quite clear that they should all come inside, I can still hear them yelling at each other in the yard. My Hannah voice was not enough to penetrate their white-trash-fighting-on-the-lawn haze.
    Jackson holds out a piece of cold pizza for me. “You get some alone time with Bri-an ?”
    â€œNo.” What I got was a big ol’ fight with Cody, but I’m not telling Jackson about any of it. I take a big bite of cold pineapple bits and congealed cheese. Yum. “I hate them. All of them.”
    â€œWho?”
    â€œMy psycho family. Can’t you hear them?”
    â€œI learned to tune out the Savage quarrels years ago. What’s this one about?”
    That my family has had it out on the front lawn many a time before is no neighborhood secret. “I’m not sure. The Guitar Player’s back with some bimbo, and Kait’s pushing the baby out the window at