fighting and leave. Once they leave, she can call the boy who is like the other half of herself. Itâs been that way ever since he moved into the trailer on the Carver property. At first it was a whole family. A mom, a dad, two daughters, and a son. Then the dad left and the boy changed. He grew up in a hurry, becoming more of a man than his daddy ever was. The girl misses the free spirit the boy used to be, but at moments like this, sheâs grateful for his seriousness.
The girl is still in her horseâs stall, still hiding from her parents. The fight stops. The clicking of cowboy boots on concrete announces the departure of her father.
âRuth, Iâm going to the show office.â Her mom sounds tired, angry. âGod knows itâs five miles from here, so itâll be a while.â
âOkay,â the girl says, trying to sound normal.
She pulls her phone out of her back pocket. Her hand is shaking, and she feels betrayed by her own body. She never shakes like this. It takes two tries before she successfully calls the boy. The phone rings, and her throat closes up on her. What if she cries? The thought is horrifying. No one hears Ruth Carver cry. Not ever. Not even him.
âHello?â He sounds concerned, as though he already knows something is wrong.
She canât say anything.
âRuthie?â
Forcing a deep breath, she says, âYes.â Except she doesnât. It comes out as a gasp for air, a metallic hiss.
The boyâs voice lowers. âAre they fighting?â
âYes.â
âWell, I guess itâs the same old, same old.â
All she can do is nod.
âRuthie, whatâs the matter?â
âI canât speak,â she whispers.
The boy is quiet, trying to figure out what has her this upset. âIs it worse than usual?â
âNo, itâs the same. Itâs exactly the same.â The words come out with vehemence, frustration.
Something clicks for the boy. âAnd you thought going to Worlds was going to change things.â
âYes.â Her âyesâ is nothing but a humiliated husk of a word.
âDonât be embarrassed. Thereâs nothing worse than getting your hopes up for nothing, especially when you have a whole heap of pressure on you.â
âThank you.â His understanding is an exquisite relief.
âLook. Me and Ma will be there Saturday. Weâll be there to watch you. Okay?â
âOkay.â The girl feels a little better, knowing her best friend will soon be there.
âIâll say prayers for you. Iâll tell Ma to say some prayers for you, too. Sheâll tell her small group and then youâll have a whole heap of people praying for you and rooting you on, okay?â
âThanks, Caleb.â A warm wash of love for the boy comes over her. His lack of judgment, his unwavering support, it all means so much.
âAnd, Ruthie, it ainât fittinâ for them to fight in front of you like that; it ainât fittinâ at all.â
And just as quickly, that love disappears. Why does he have to talk like a redneck? Heâs smarter than that, should be better than that. It just shows why Caleb could never be a part of the Carver clan. The Carvers are about being the best. Caleb is so close to that, so close to great. But heâs not. Heâs on the other side of the line.
âThanks, Caleb,â she says again, her voice cold. âI gotta go.â
His redneck ways have always been an irritant, but now, in the moment when she most needs him to be perfect, it brings home everything thatâs wrong.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE WOLFMAN CONTINUES TO ROOT around in the kitchen as I lie facedown on the couch. Address memorized, I stare at the hunting magazines. N ever in a million years would I have guessed his name was Jerry T. Balls. What kind of a name is Jerry Balls? In a different world from this one it would be funny. Thing is, he doesnât look like