Chapter Four

The stairs creaked beneath her feet as Beth felt her way along the bannister, a can of Dr. Pepper in her free hand. Whoever decided it was a good idea to put the light switch at the top of the stairs had been an idiot, and while Beth realized said idiot probably died over a hundred years ago, she really wished the people who’d renovated their house right before they bought it five years ago would’ve considered fixing this problem with the light.

And put a bathroom on the second floor.

She reached the top step and fumbled for the cord that hung from the ceiling in the narrow hallway that ran past Shane’s closet of a bedroom to hers. Finding it, she gave it a tug and then breathed a sigh of relief at having reached the top without tripping and tumbling to her demise. Of course, the way the stairway curved, she would’ve probably hit a wall before she broke her neck, but reaching the top of the stairs always felt like a feat that had been conquered.

Shane was likely still sitting on the bleachers with his girlfriend and her gaggle of groupies. Or they might’ve gone downtown to circle the square endlessly. Since it was only 10:30, he probably wouldn’t be home for a few more hours. Beth was glad his bedroom door was closed, though. Since he had absolutely no windows in his room, it was pitch black in there, and Beth didn’t even like to walk by it. The room wasn’t even a fourth of the size of her bedroom, but he seemed to like it that way and hadn’t protested at all when her parents had given her the big bedroom in the front of the upstairs, with three windows and plenty of room for all of her junk. She imagined it had more to do with the pink wallpaper than herself being the favorite of the older children, but Beth didn’t care. For once in her life, she’d gotten a leg up on Shane.

She flipped her own bedroom light switch on and then went back to turn off the hall light. If it was up to her, the light would always be on up here so no one died summiting the stairwell, but it wasn’t her decision, and Evelyn was very particular about wasting things—electricity, food, the opportunity to chastise her oldest daughter. Besides, leaving it on would mean Shane wouldn’t have to transverse the stairs in the dark the way that Beth just had, and that really wouldn’t be fair, would it?

The radio sprang to life as she turned the knob, and Whitney Houston’s beloved, “I Will Always Love You,” poured through the speakers. It was hot up here, despite the air conditioner since the house only had one unit, and the cool air tended to pool downstairs, but with the help of her ceiling fan, at least she could breathe. Sometimes Beth would close her vent and open all three of the windows, but she decided to stand right below the vent for a few minutes and hope that at least her armpits would dry out that way. She’d had no idea just how sweaty she was until she’d caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror in the bathroom. Thank God when she’d spoken to Sammy she was standing in the shadows.

The pitter-pattering of rocks against her window tore her mind away from her favorite baseball player, and a smile broke out across Beth’s face. She paused at the radio to turn it down a little bit before flying to the window on the north side of her house and pulling up the shade. Through the glass, she could see her neighbor’s familiar face, and her smile somehow managed to widen. He was replacing the storm window he’d had to remove in order to toss rocks at her window.

Beth’s window stuck a bit, but she managed to yank it open. All three of the windows in her room were low to the ground and swung in, rather than pushing up like normal windows. “Hey, there,” she shout/whispered, plopping down cross-legged on the carpet as the night air cooled her even more than the AC had done.

“Hey, there yourself. How was the baseball game?”

Ryan Wilson was only two months older than Beth, and they had been in the same grade-level since starting kindergarten a decade ago. But it was only when Beth’s parents had bought this house right next to his that they’d become such good friends. While both of their houses were fairly large and on big lots, for some reason, they hugged the property line here, and Ryan’s bedroom window was less than five feet from her own. Since Shane had no windows, and her parents’ and baby sisters’ rooms were downstairs on the other side of the house, it didn’t seem to bother anyone just how neighborly the two teens could be. Her folks had no idea they spent many evenings talking to each other over the sliver of yard, and Beth was sure that Karen and Justin Wilson were just as oblivious to the arrangement since they practically kept Ryan in a bubble.

“The game was okay.” She managed a smile, though she knew he could see right through it.

Ryan’s window had a built in seat, and he dropped onto it now. He had always been tall, but for the first time, Beth noticed he seemed to have grown a foot in the last few months. He had been lanky as well, though she noted he was filling out this summer. Her dad had noted on more than one occasion it was too bad he couldn’t play basketball. “He’d make an excellent point guard,” Richard had said whenever he caught a glimpse of Ryan coming home from church earlier in the year.

“Just okay?” Ryan asked, running a hand through his sandy blond hair. It was a lot darker than Sammy’s, and Beth wondered what it might be like if Ryan ever got to spend any time outside. Would the sun bleach it so that he looked like a surfer dude, or would it say the same dirty blond color regardless?

“Uh, yeah.” She realized she wasn’t paying attention, but she was a little surprised her mind hadn’t lingered longer at the thought of Sammy. “I mean, it was hot as hell up in the new scorekeeper’s box, and Lexy and Andi were distracting as usual.”

Ryan laughed. He knew Lexy and Andi well, though not like he knew Beth. “What’s a scorekeeper’s box?”

“Oh, right.” Beth realized he’d have no way of knowing they’d added a booth for the scorekeepers above the concession stand since he hadn’t left his house since school ended two weeks ago. She explained the set up to him, and he listened intently, glad to have any news of the outside world. “How are you feeling?” she asked, trying not to spend too much time talking about herself, attempting to avoid any questions about Sammy or the other baseball players.

“I feel good,” Ryan assured her. “I mean, trapped, of course, but… hey, I get to go to the doctor on Thursday, so that’s something.”

“At least you get to leave the house.” Beth smiled, hoping it looked cheerful enough. “Is it Dr. Keller or do you have to go to St. Louis?”

“My dad’s actually taking me to a new specialist, one in Kansas City,” Ryan explained. “He heard of some new… medication. It’s supposed to make the risk of endocarditis less likely or some shit. I don’t know.” He shrugged, and Beth got the impression he just didn’t want to talk about it. There was a slim chance Ryan didn’t actually know exactly what the medication would do for his condition.

She realized she didn’t know as much about his heart condition as she should. He’d explained it to her a few times, but she could never even remember exactly what TAPVC stood for. She just knew the blood in his heart didn’t quite flow the way it was supposed to, even though he’d had a few surgeries—how many, she also couldn’t remember. Ryan was a pretty remarkable person. His mom insisted he should’ve died when he was born, though he always told her she was being overly dramatic. It was that belief that led Karen to build a cocoon around her only child, one that left him at home while the rest of their friends were out at the baseball game, driving around the square in endless circles, hanging out down by the creek, or even at friends’ houses at sleepovers. Karen Wilson refused to give the universe an opportunity to steal her child away.

“What does your mom think about that?” Beth knew she was treading on thin ice. Their houses were close enough together that she’d caught more than one argument between his parents regarding his treatment, not to mention Justin thought Ryan should have more opportunities to be a kid while Karen was perfectly content letting him watch the world through the windows or television.

Once again Ryan was shrugging. “My mom just wants what’s best for me.” It was a line he’d said a thousand times before. Beth didn’t doubt that, but she wasn’t sure Karen had any idea what was truly best for him. “So… how was the game? Did you talk to the man, the myth, the legend?”

Heat rose in Beth’s cheeks, and it had nothing to do with the poor air conditioning. Ryan chuckled at her, and she decided her disposition had given her away. There was no point in trying to hide her brief conversation with Sammy from Ryan. He was well aware of her feelings for the high school junior. “Yeah, I spoke to him. For a minute.” It was her turn to shrug. “It was nothing.”

His head bobbed up and down a few times, but she knew he wasn’t buying what she was selling. “What did he say?”

“He just asked about the scorekeeper’s box, if it was hot. And I told him it was fine. But then Lexy said it was hotter than the sun.” She rolled her eyes, remembering how Andi had been ready to slug their friend.

“Lexy speaks her mind. Nothing wrong with that.” Ryan’s chuckle became a full out laugh.

“I guess so.” Beth looked around and realized she’d left her can of pop over by the radio. Suddenly parched, she said, “Hold on a second,” and went to retrieve it. He didn’t move, and when she plopped back on the floor, his eyes were asking her to continue. She thought it must be uncomfortable to have all of his information come through conversations with her or over the phone with other friends. When school was out, he rarely saw anyone other than her, just a visit from one of their mutual friends from time to time. As much as she’d rather not dwell on the conversation, she said, “Anyway, Sammy said I didn’t stink, so that’s something.”

“What?” Ryan asked, a loud guffaw cutting through the night air. “He said, ‘You don’t stink, Beth,’ and then left?”

“Well, no, not exactly.” Imagining that conversation had her giggling, too. “He said something like I didn’t smell bad, or whatever, and then he just walked away.”

“Do you think I don’t know you well enough to know you remember exactly what he said?” Ryan leaned his elbows onto the window casing, only the thin storm window between him and a fifteen foot drop.

She sighed louder than Lexy did when she was really annoyed before saying, “Fine. He said, ‘Well, you still smell really good.’ Whatever that means.”

“Well, I’m not a wordsmith, but I’m thinking it means he thinks you smell good, despite being up there in that box for so long. Maybe those twenty layers of hairspray finally gave you the upper hand.”

Instinctively, Beth’s hand went to her bangs. They’d fallen a lot over the night, much more than her friends, but they did still feel a little crunchy. “I thought you liked the smell of my hairspray!”

“I do. When the wind catches it just right, my room smells like a Pez dispenser for days.”

She shot darts through her eyes at him across the five feet of relative darkness as he laughed at her. “I am wearing scented deodorant, too, you know? And I think I maybe put on some perfume before I left.” She raised the neck of her pink one pocket T-shirt and took a whiff, but it wasn’t helpful. It did smell like body odor, and not in any way that could’ve possibly been described as “good.”

“Well, I’m happy for you, Monroe,” Ryan offered. “Maybe Sammy’s finally starting to pull his head out of his ass long enough to realize a pretty awesome girl is interested in him.”