They helped each other to their feet and retrieved their bikes. By the time they were across the road, Kate barely noticed where she was hurt. She felt like a different girl suddenly—bolder, braver, willing to try anything. So what if trouble followed a night like this? What was a sprained ankle or a bloody knee next to an adventure? For the past two years she'd followed all the rules and stayed home on weekend nights. No more.
They left their bikes by the side of the road and limped toward the river. In the moonlight, everything looked milky and beautiful—the silvery waves, the jagged rocks along the shore.
Tully sat down by a decaying, moss-covered nurse log in a place where the grass was as thick as shag carpeting.
Kate sat down beside her, so close their knees were almost touching. Together they stared up at the star-spangled sky. The song of the river floated toward them, sounded like a young girl's laugh. Just now, with the world so still and silent, it was as if the breeze had drawn in its cool breath and left them all alone in this place that until right now had been just another bend in a river that flooded every autumn.
"I wonder who named our street," Tully said. "I haven't seen any fireflies."
Kate shrugged. "Over by the old bridge is Missouri Street. Maybe some pioneer was homesick. Or lost."
"Or maybe it'smagic. This could be a magical street." Tully turned toward her. "That could mean we were meant to be friends."
Kate shivered at the power of that. "Before you moved here, I thought it was just a road that went nowhere."
"Now it's our road."
"We can go all kinds of places when we grow up."
"Places don't matter," Tully said.
Kate heard something in her friend's voice, a sadness she didn't understand. She turned sideways. Tully was staring up at the sky.
"Are you thinking about your mom?" Kate asked tentatively.
"I try not to think about her." There was a long pause, then she dug into her pocket for a Virginia Slims cigarette and lit up.
Kate was careful not to make a face about the smoking.
"You want a drag?"
Kate knew she had no choice. "Uh. Sure."
"If my mom were normal—not sick, I mean—I could have told her about what happened to me at the party."
Kate took a tiny drag, coughed hard, and said, "Do you think about it a lot?"
Tully leaned back against the log, taking the cigarette again. After a long pause, she said, "I have nightmares about it."
Kate wished she knew what to say. "What about your dad? Can you talk to him?"
Tully wouldn't look at her. "I don't think she even knows who he is." Her voice fell. "Or he heard about me and ran."
"That's harsh."
"Life is harsh. Besides, I don't need them. I've got you, Katie. You're the one that helped me through it."
Kate smiled. The sharp tang of smoke filled the air between them, stung her eyes, but she didn't care. What mattered was being here, with her new best friend. "That's what friends are for."
That next night Tully was on the last chapter ofThe Outsiderswhen she heard her mother yelling through the house. "Tully! Answer the damn door."
She slammed the book down and went out into the living room, where her mother sat sprawled on the sofa, taking a bong hit as she watchedHappy Days.
"You're right by the door."
Her mother shrugged. "So?"
"Hide your bong."
