Goat by Brad Land Read Free Book Online

against my face. I would have killed those fucks, he says. Easy as that. He snaps his fingers. I keep my head down because now I’m shaking and the paste has worn off, my mouth weeping, I can feel my heart beating in my tongue, I keep my hands on my knees and Danny stands back up. Leah looks up at him, tells him to fuck off, and he sticks up his middle finger, shoves it toward her, calls her a bitch, calls me a pussy and then he and the other boys leave and go up to the party.
    Leah leans over and clutches my forearm. It’s shaking there holding my knees.
    Don’t listen to him, she says, he’s a shit, you know that. She touches the back of my head. I nod. Bring a hand up to my lips and when I pull it down my fingers are red. I lean over and drag my hand across the grass. I spit. All blood. Leah looks over at me and doesn’t say anything. She takes my hand and pulls me up. Walks me around to the passenger side of the car and opens the door.
       
    ON A FRIDAY in mid-October Brett and I go to this place called Deberdieu. We have these friends, three sisters, whose dad’s a rich tax lawyer who has a house that he lets us use sometimes. We’re meeting about fifteen people there but I’m going because Leah is there and because all I do is think about her.
    When we get to the house everyone’s already drinking. Sitting around this long table on the second floor. Playing circle of death, a card game that makes you drink a lot. Brett and I both sit down at the table. Brett hands me a beer.
       
    AFTER EIGHT BEERS I’m stupid. I can’t see straight. I’m blabbering. I’m thinking about Leah the whole time.
    And for the first time in a long while I don’t hurt. The ulcers have healed. I can talk without drooling. I can eat without wincing. At the long table it’s me and Brett, Justin, Mackie, Tom and Rick. Rick deals you a card and you have to say whether the next one will be high or low and if you lose you have to drink this gold rum. Brett loses the first time. Takes a shot and says go again. He loses again and after the shot he has to lean over and concentrate so he won’t throw up. I lose the first time and the rum burns, I feel the blood rise in my face, hold my hands out to my sides like I’m trying to balance and I have to be very still so I won’t puke.
    Tom wins.
    Justin loses. Runs to the bathroom.
    Mackie loses. Wipes his mouth after the shot.
    What? he says and he’s all calm like he just drank water.
    Rick calls us all pussies. Except for Mackie.
    So fuck you, man, Brett says, your turn. Slams the deck.
    All right, Rick says, bring it on, and Brett throws him a card.
    Jack.
    Low, Rick says, and the next card’s high (queen) and then he’s bringing the shot up to his mouth, gold in the light, he takes it, looks at us and pukes all over the table.
       
    AT THREE TWENTY-EIGHT, me with Leah at the long table. I’ve watched her the whole time, moving around the room, putting hair behind her ears, changing the music when she doesn’t like it, drinking something dark red. Rick passed out on the table. My brother gone. Mackie punched a hole in a bedroom door after he found out Justin was making out with this girl and now he’s gone.
    Leah and I are the only ones awake. We’re listening to beach music which always gets played here, Otis Redding and the Spinners and the Platters, all these bands my parents love.
    I tell Leah we should go on the beach. She’s peeling the label off a beer. Looks over at me.
    I’m not going to put the moves on you, I say. I promise. And she nods yes, we take the long steps leading down from the porch through sand dunes, grass tilting, the air thick with salt.
    It’s dark on the beach. We sit in the wet sand and for a long time we don’t say anything. We smoke cigarettes and watch the flat water. And then Leah stands up, knocks the sand from her jeans. I stand up, too, and when I do I rise into her mouth, it’s just there, her hands behind my head, my hands on the