Jaded by Varina Denman

were away from streetlights, and the place would fall into darkness as soon as Dodd killed his headlights. Hence the desirable location.
    Luis’s Jeep angled near us, with a handful of vehicles around it. Seven or eight people holding beer bottles and wine coolers squinted into the brightness, and on the far side, Fawn Blaylock perched on the hood of her Mustang with Tyler standing next to her, his arm around her waist. JohnScott and Grady leaned against the step-side, and as we pulled up, Grady floated toward the El Camino with his palms up.
    I had the car door open before we came to a complete stop and was halfway to JohnScott’s truck when Dodd turned off his headlights. Instant blackness fell over me, and I stopped, hoping my eyes would adjust to the darkness.
    â€œOver here, Ruthie.” JohnScott opened his cell phone, creating a beacon of light. “You must have pitched a fit to get Dodd down here. Grady was just telling me how much pressure he feels to be the perfect preacher.”
    â€œPerfect?”
    â€œDo I detect a hint of sarcasm?”
    I had no intention of relaying Dodd’s and my star-gazing experiment, or the tangle following, even though Dodd insisted he would understand if I told JohnScott. Really? Did he think JohnScott was my guardian?
    I bumped my cousin’s shoulder with my own. “Why are you still here? I thought the plan was to get Luis and meet me back at the car wash. Ten minutes tops.”
    â€œThe twit won’t leave.” JohnScott sighed. “When I suggested we go, he made a scene. Loudly.” From JohnScott’s tone, I knew Luis would be running laps on Monday. “So my search-and-rescue mission got downgraded to basic childcare.”
    Muffled words coming from the direction of the El Camino told me Dodd and Grady were in disagreement about their next move. I’m sure Dodd had planned to get Grady and hightail it out of the vicinity, but apparently he was having as much luck with Grady as JohnScott had with Luis.
    JohnScott pulled me to the back of the truck, where he lowered the tailgate. I could hear a few other conversations, none of which were loud enough to understand. Most people were keeping to themselves, probably huddled in small groups, and without a doubt, couples slipped away occasionally for privacy.
    The sickeningly sweet scent of beer reminded me of my daddy. I rested my thighs on the squeaky tailgate, scooting back until my feet lifted off the ground, and I thought how nice it would be to keep inching back, crawling to a place where memories couldn’t reach me.
    A low roar transformed my melancholy into alarm, as headlights illuminated the lot around me. It was Clyde Felton’s loud car, and my spine tingled as exhaust fumes temporarily eclipsed the odor of alcohol. “JohnScott?”
    â€œIt’s all right, Ruthie. Stay with me, and you’ll be fine.”
    Clyde’s door screeched as it opened, and the interior of the car lit, revealing the hulk of a man. He pulled himself up and gazed around him before slamming the door.
    I clenched JohnScott’s elbow. Unbelievable. We were hobnobbing at the elevator with a convicted rapist and a bunch of drunks. Suddenly I could feel the darkness. It lay over me like a suffocating tent, trapping me on the tailgate of JohnScott’s truck while I listened for any tiny sound that might alert me to Clyde’s whereabouts.
    Dodd, breaking his silence, called a greeting, but Clyde didn’t acknowledge him.
    Silence hovered over the lot, indicating my cousin and I weren’t the only ones who had heard the rumors. Several phones lit up the darkness, but they only managed to identify their owners.
    A loud belch broke the silence, and Luis drawled, “Anybody need another beer?”
    When a deep voice answered, I recoiled. Clyde stood at the front bumper of JohnScott’s truck, not eight feet away. “Throw me one, kid.”
    JohnScott flinched when a