Page 60 of Them Bones

Kyle knew Cary, alright.

Cary supplied all the juice for the hockey team.

The girls weren’t exaggerating about his looks. The hockey team literally called himThe Blonde Godbehind his back. He was the kind of good-looking that made your balls shrivel. But he was also fucking mental.

The boys would vote once a month on the worst performing team member, and whoever it is was had to meet Cary for pickup. He made them all nervous, a strange look in his eye, like he was just as likely to put a pen through your eyeball for making eye contact as he was to break your kneecaps for not makingenougheye contact.

Sometimes Kyle wondered if the juice was just a placebo, and the real reason they were playing so well all year was because none of them wanted to be voted the worst performer and have to talk to Cary.

Laney was a pretty girl, but she was Cary's sister.

Kyle wasn't suicidal.

LANEY

“Scott Weiland was arrested today,” Shane called down the stairs to Laney as he walked in the door, kicking off his steel-toed boots. “Just heard on the radio.” He headed straight into the rec room where it was slightly cooler than upstairs, the creaking sounds of the floor and then of the pipes indicating Dustin was opting for a cold shower.

“The Stone Temple Pilots guy?” Laney asked, putting down her book.

“I love that you have good taste in music,” Shane said, flopping himself down on the other velour couch. “If I have to hear thatEverybody Yeahsong one more time I’m going to pop my own eardrums.”

“The Backstreet Boys are lyrical artists,” she said. Shane snorted, and she started to mock-sing. “I'm sexual…”She ran her hand over the front of her body, doing an exaggerated hip thrust up into the air. “Yeeeeeah…”She continued to thrust dramatically.

Shane was laughing but looked a little flushed and she suppressed a grin. If she had to endure knowing he was seeing somebody (she scowled internally) the least she could do was make him sweat. As often as possible.

She was wearing a dangerously short denim miniskirt with a frayed hem, and a red and white Tommy Hilfiger tube top she’d found at the thrift shop. Her stomach and feet were bare. Normally she wouldn’t have risked such an outfit around Cary, but he was ‘gone on business’ and the early heat wave was making her feel reckless.

She let her hand drift back up her body, tracing her exposed collarbone lazily with her fingertips.

He was riveted, his body unconsciously leaning a little closer.

“What was he arrested for?” she asked.

“Hm?” Shane hummed, eyes locked on her fingertips.

“Scott Weiland? What was he arrested for.”

“Oh…” he reluctantly tore his gaze away from her skin and looked at her face. “Um… possession.”

“How original. A rock star arrested for drugs.”

Shane shrugged at her and dropped his head back, staring at the basement ceiling, flinging one arm over the armrest. Shehatedwhen he did that. His shirt would always ride up, his skin tan from working shirtless in Jerry’s yard all spring, sometimes exposing the now-muscular ridges in his stomach and the V of his hips... It made her want to use him as aplate, have every single one of her meals served on his body until the end of time.

“There’s something to be said for substance abuse and creative genius, I guess,” she mused, picking her book back up.

Shane rolled onto his side, his shirt riding up another inch, and he pursed his lips at her. “Harry Potter again? Haven’t you already read that like three times?”

She put her own hands above her head and stretched, arching her back and pointing her toes. She could feel his eyes slide to her exposed belly, the dangling silver charm in her bellybutton tinkling as she moved.

“The new one comes out next month,” she said. “I’m doing a refresh.”

“What’s it about?” he asked, his eyes travelling lower to her bare thighs. She fought to keep her breathing even. It was so rare that they were alone… Ma was always busting in and out like the gale force wind that she was, and Dustin treasured their hang-out time as much as Laney did, not often leaving them by themselves. And then there was Cary. Even with Ma home, he was a constant presence, a shadow in every room, lurking around every corner.

“A young boy with a really awful family finds out that he’s actually descended from wizards. He’s accepted into a school of magic, and there’s like… a whole secret world of wizards and witches living in tandem with normal society.”

“Sounds kind of lame,” Shane said.

“It’s really great, actually,” she said, picking the book up and flipping through it. “The kid is kind of a… not prophet, but like a really big deal in the magical world. A dark wizard tried to kill him as an infant and it backfired on him. He’s a celebrity in a universe he never knew existed.”

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