The Drowned Forest by Kristopher Reisz

Lee-Lee.”
    “I’m not! I don’t know about you, but I don’t—”
    “What about Fourth of July? When we went to your brother’s?”
    “That was a special occasion too! That was celebrating the birth of our country!”
    “What about when Twitchy was here?”
    “Twitchy was here! Another special occasion!” Now LeighAnn’s laughing along with them. “I can’t help it if my life is blessed with good friends and cheap beer.”
    They all think it’s hilarious. I just stand there, silent, while they jabber like blue jays. I notice that LeighAnn, Max, and Ultimate Steve all have the same tattoo—the silhouette of an airplane—inked onto their inner right forearms. When Tyler and Patterson reappear, carrying a battered black amp between them, I see that Patterson has the same tattoo. I guess it means they’re in a band together, or maybe a cult.
    Tyler and Patterson load the amp into the rear of Tyler’s pickup, then come back to lean against the porch railing. Tyler asks, “Ultimate, you spending the night in South Carolina?”
    Ultimate Steve shakes his head. “Have to be at work tomorrow. Dropping Patterson off and turning right around.”
    Max says, “Don’t even slow down, just open the door and shove him out,” but nobody’s listening.
    Tyler asks, “How many days have you been up?”
    Steve shrugs.
    “Tyler, we need to go,” I say.
    “What? You guys running off already?” Steve asks. “Come on, big guy.”
    “Sorry, but yeah. We’ve got some … uh, stuff that can’t wait. But listen, nobody’s called looking for me, have they?”
    “No. Should I be expecting someone?”
    “Well, just in case my parents call? Tell them I’ve been with you all day, but I just left. Okay?”
    “Sure.” The way Ultimate Steve grins at me when he says it is the last straw. Snatching Tyler’s keys out of his hand, I hiss in his ear. “You want to hang out here all day? Fine. Maybe one of the herpes sponges over there’ll make out with you. I’m going to help Holly.”
    I walk off the porch. None of them are worth a glance backward. Tyler yells after me, “Okay! We’ll go, Jane. Give me one second, okay?”
    I should leave him, Holly. Instead, I slide into the passenger seat and wait for him to say his goodbyes. Steve follows him down to the pickup. “Sometime soon, you need to get with Max. Patterson’s leaving, and we need a rhythm guitar, and—”
    Tyler shakes his head as he climbs in. “Thanks, but I’ve just got a lot going on right now.”
    “Come on.” Setting his hands above the door, Steve shakes the truck on its chassis. “What’s more important than rock ?”
    “I’ve just got a lot going on right now.”
    “Well, think about it at least.”
    “I’ll think about it. See you around.”
    “See you.”
    They bump fists through the window. Steve doesn’t say anything to me. Did he hear what I told Tyler? I don’t care if he did or not—him or any of those other losers.
    Tyler pulls away from the curb, slipping his Aviators on. “What was that about?”
    “You tell me.”
    “Tell you what?”
    “Well, when did you start hanging out with Ultimate Steve again, anyway?”
    “He called me after Holly’s accident, and, whatever, we started hanging out.”
    “So that’s where you’ve been the past month? Getting drunk with Steve and his band? Hiding in that house back there?”
    “Did you see me drinking?”
    I stare out the window.
    “Did you see me drinking?”
    “No.”
    “Then don’t accuse me of stuff. I said goodbye to a guy I’ll probably never see again. You should get that; you of all people.”
    “Fine. I do. But then why don’t you come to church anymore?”
    “Oh, come on,” he groans. “Jane, don’t go all Jesus dork on me, okay? I can’t deal with it right now.”
    “Our faith is being tested, Tyler, and we’re failing! If you’d been coming to church, maybe God would show us where to find Holly’s pa-paw now.” I touch Tyler’s wrist.