Page 123 of Resurrection
I take a step closer. "I didn’t know you were still in town."
"So are you."
"True… I was gone for a while… So how are you doing?"
"Fine," he says.
"You into hunting?" I point at his rifle.
"Something like that," Decker grunts out.
He glances back at the tree, then at my car. "You can get around if you hug the inside. Stay left, keep your tires on the dirt. Go slow. It’s muddy. You should be okay."
"Thank you," I say, meaning it.
He hesitates, then adds, "Don’t stop at the creek. The dog’s mean."
I smile. "Appreciate the warning."
Decker shifts his grip on the rifle, looks past me like he’s already ten miles gone. "You should leave before it gets dark," he says, "Things get dangerous around here after the sun sets."
I nod and climb back into my car. When I look back, he’s gone—vanished into the woods without a sound.
The rest of the drive is uneventful, except for my heart pounding in my ears and the faint dread that comes from talking to someone who doesn’t quite operate by the same rules. I follow Decker’s advice, swing wide around the fallen pine and creep up the winding dirt road to where the trailers sit in a loose circle. A few have rusty trucks parked outside; most look abandoned.
Asher’s place is easy to spot. There’s a blue tarp nailed over one window, and the steps are held up by cinder blocks. I park and walk up, the food bag clutched tight in my hands.
I knock. Nothing. Try again. Still nothing.
I peer through a gap in the blinds. The inside is dark, but there’s the glow of a TV or a monitor, the blue light flickering over piles of clothes and what might be pizza boxes. I wait, count to thirty, then knock harder.
Still nothing.
I sit on the steps for a while, listening. Far off, a dog barks, and I wonder if that’s the mean one. Otherwise, I just hear the rustle of the pines. I set the food on the doorstep and look around. No sign of anyone. No sign of life at all.
I think about leaving a note, but I know the wind would just eat it, so I don’t. All I can do is hope that the family will be back before the pudding goes bad.
29TYLER [THE PAST]
Her cheeks wentpink when we first walked in. Not from makeup but from nerves and the heat of the moment. I'd never seen her so shy, so unsure of herself. Of me. But I guess there was a first time for everything.
The sheets were as white as the stars in the desert sky, and she was even brighter. I watched her in awe as I helped her out of that silver dress, my hands trembling like a novice, my heart pounding out a teenage love song.
The room smelled of clean linens and our breathless anticipation, with the faint perfume of flowers that drifted in from Naomi's hair. We laughed, nervous and young, consumed by the thrill of finally being alone.
There was always the garage, but Naomi Medina deserved better than that. She was the kind of girl you wanted to impress. So I did it right—I booked us a suite at a nice hotel in downtown Palm Springs. I spent all the savings I made working at The Gobbler on it and her wrist corsage. It was a light blue rose to match her shoes, and she looked stunning wearing it.
Of course, both families, despite the lingering tension, gathered on the sidewalk and had us pose in front of both houses. Even Adri was there for some parts of it, grimacing and giving me death stares while Jose took endless photos of his daughter and me with his Sony Cyber-shot.
Then I told my old man in secret that I wouldn’t be coming back home tonight. He nodded with that quiet understanding in his eyes and promised to make sure Mom wouldn’t be worried.
I remember the softness of her skin, how I couldn't stop touching her, like she'd disappear if I didn't hold on tight.
It was awkward and beautiful—our first time. The way we fumbled andlaughed, the way I held her, scared to death and sure this was it. I'd never felt so much all at once. Desire and love and this crazy idea that we'd be like this forever.
And after it was over, we stayed wrapped up in the sheets in the hotel room, in each other, as the world fell away.
I still felt the tremor in my fingers when I took her hand, when I drew her into me while forgetting how to breathe. Our voices were whispers, nervous and sweet, naming futures we hadn't lived yet. Her warmth, her touch, her voice promising LA forever and always. I could still feel all of it, a soft explosion under my skin, echoing through me like the music that ran wild and free through my veins.
