Page 24 of The Lookback

Maren groans. “Just say fine, Mom. It’s not like Eddy would even care.”

“Why is Tommy coming into town now?” Abigail asks. “Because if it’s legal stuff. . .”

“I’m buying his family’s ranch,” I say. “He’s finally ready to sell their land.”

“Oh,” Abigail says. “Well, I guess you better tell me everything. As your lawyer, I’ll need context.” She’s smiling.

“You better not send me a huge bill for all this,” I say.

“You ruin all my fun.” But she’s still smiling.

“So a week before prom, no one had asked me to go.”

Everyone’s so quiet, so focused on what I’m saying that it’s almost like I’m talking to myself.

“Manila isn’t exactly New York City now,” I say.

Maren snorts.

“But in the early 1960s, it was even worse. There was really nothing to do, so when I told Tommy that I wasn’t going to the dance. . .”

* * *

Tommy’s jaw drops.

“Oh, don’t act like it’s really that big of a deal. Mom can’t really afford to buy me a fancy dress, and she doesn’t have time to try and make one for me now, thank goodness.”

“You have to go,” he says. “I can’t believe that idiot hasn’t asked you yet.”

“By that idiot, you mean Jed.” I’m not sure why I say it. We both knew who he meant.

“I keep waiting for him to finally get over himself, but he just can’t do it.”

“It all started with a dance,” I say. “Maybe he’s just too scarred to even think about?—”

“No.” Tommy shakes his head. “No, he doesn’t get to play the wounded bird. It’s been more than a year—almost two! How long is he really going to mope around, not talking to you?” He swings the saddle onto his horse, Ranger. “And you—if he’s too stupid to ask you, you should go with someone else.”

“Who are you taking?” I tighten the cinch on my horse Elvis, but I keep one eye on Tommy.

“Me?” He scoffs. “I’m not taking anyone, but I’m still going. See what I mean?”

“Whether I’m at the dance or sitting at home, why do you care?” I yank the halter off Elvis and slide the headstall up, pausing so he can take the bit. “It’s not like it matters.”

Tommy bridles his horse in half a second and tightens the girth before swinging up on his back. “There’s nothing to do around here. You can’t miss out on things like junior prom. It’s all there is.”

“You talk like it’s the end of the world if I don’t go.” I pull the girth two holes tighter and call it good. “I’ve got a pile of books to read that Dad brought back from that library that closed over in Salt Lake, remember?”

Tommy stops arguing with me for the moment, and just starts moving. I’m hard pressed to swing up on Elvis, because he’s kind of a brat—he starts walking as soon as Ranger moves off. “Hey.” I yank on his face, but he’s not stopping. One of these days, I’m really going to have to make him listen, but part of me kind of likes having a cantankerous horse.

He breaks into a trot the second I’m fully on, eager to catch up to his best friend, but once we do, he drops into a slow and steady walk. I’m a little less eager to be near my buddy right now. He’s being brattier than my horse. “And anyway,” I say, deciding to needle him, “if you keep spending all your time with me, you’ll never make a move on Patrice Delaney.”

Tommy’s head snaps back. “What did you just say?”

“I’ve seen you watching her lately. I can tell you were happy when she broke up with Lex.”

“I’m not interested in her.” His face flushes bright red.

“Okay, sure,” I say. “But if I’m not at the dance, you’ll have to talk tosomeone. May as well be her, right?” Once we reach the plowed arena at the edge of Tommy’s horse pasture, I urge Elvis forward and he springs into an eager trot.

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