Lisa McMann - Cryer’s Cross

After practice Kendall follows Marlena to the tiny girls’ locker room, which is more of a lean-to against the school building than anything else. “You guys are good,” Kendall says.

Marlena smiles. “Thanks. Jacián is great. I’m just okay.” Her voice is warm and rich.

“You’re way better than Brandon,” Kendall says, feeling generous.

“Which one is he?”

“The immature senior loser with the light brown hair. Kinda big and dopey, about this tall.” She holds up her hand to about six feet four. “He sits behind me in school. I’m sure you know who I mean. The guy who didn’t actually manage to touch the ball the entire scrimmage but fell down multiple times.”

“Yeah. I think so.” She grins.

They strip down, clean up, and change back into street clothes, layering on deodorant. Couldn’t shower even if they wanted to, but there’s a sink at least. “So,” Kendall says, “what’s your brother’s problem?”

Marlena raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“He’s not very friendly. Hasn’t said a word.”

“Oh, that. He’s just upset,” Marlena says. She lowers her voice, even though it’s just the two of them. “He doesn’t really want to be here.”

“Why not?”

Marlena shrugs. “Moving away from all his friends for his senior year. Leaving his girlfriend, trying to do a long-distance-relationship thing. And then when we got here . . . Well, you probably know.”

“Know what?”

“About the sheriff coming over. Right when we moved in. Everybody seems to know everybody else’s business here.”

Kendall shakes her head. “I don’t know. I was isolated on a tractor twelve hours a day all summer. What happened?”

Marlena pulls a makeup bag from her backpack and starts applying eyeliner. “Well, we moved here in May, right after our school year was done down in Arizona. Right before that girl Tiffany disappeared, I guess. Sheriff Greenwood and the state police thought maybe Jacián had something to do with it.”

Kendall’s eyes widen. Her heart skips, and the irrational fear wells up. “Oh. . . .” The word gets caught in her throat, and bad thoughts start looping.

“He didn’t, though, obviously. After a while the sheriff stopped bugging him.” Marlena scowls as she swipes her lips with gloss. “Jacián was really pissed off, though. Called the sheriff a racist.”

Kendall swallows hard. “So . . . why did you guys move here?”

“My grandfather.” She replaces the cap and fishes around in her makeup bag. “He’s getting older, and his business wasn’t doing very well. He’s not keeping up with technology. Still uses horses to round up cattle. Can you believe that? My mother and father decided to come here and take care of things. Family is a big deal to them. To all of us.” Marlena turns to look at Kendall. “Are you all right?”

Kendall stops staring at Marlena and turns on the faucet, washes her hands, stares at the water instead. “Wait . . . so, who’s your grandfather? I don’t know any Obregons around here.”

“It’s my mother’s father. Hector Morales. A mile down RR-4.”

Kendall grins. “Oh, Hector’s Farm! Everybody loves him. We buy lots of stuff from him—milk, beef. I didn’t know he was having trouble.” Somehow, Marlena and Jacián being related to Hector makes them a little less scary.

“It’s not too bad, my mother says. He’s just not able to keep up with beef orders as well as he used to, and he lost some cattle over the winter. Plus, he’s too stubborn to hire help, so I guess he lost some commercial business. We’re trying to get it back.”

“Well, we’ll keep buying all our stuff from you guys, I’m sure. And the cool thing is you can ride. He’s got beautiful stables. You can even ride to school if you want. There’s a hitching post over on the side of the building.”

“No way, really?” Marlena grins and picks up her backpack. “This place is so old-fashioned. We rode back home too, but just for fun. It’s in the blood, I think. We’ll be switching Grandpa over to four-wheelers soon.” Somebody outside the building pounds on the wall, and Marlena startles.

“That’ll be Nico,” Kendall says. She grabs her bag. “Nice getting to know you.”

Marlena smiles. “Don’t let my brother get to you. He’s just pretty mad about everything right now.”

“No kidding,” Kendall says. She pushes the door open and comes face-to-face with Jacián Obregon.

He glares.

She glares back, but her stomach twists. “You fouled me,” she says.

He doesn’t speak for a moment. When he does, his voice is lower than she expects. “Stay out of my way, then, if you don’t want to get hurt.” He dismisses Kendall by the mere act of looking beyond her, to Marlena. “Come on, Lena,” he says sharply. He turns in the dirt and starts walking toward the parking area.

Marlena smiles an apology to Kendall and takes off after Jacián. “See you tomorrow,” she calls out.

Kendall waves halfheartedly at Marlena as Nico walks up. “He’s a jerk.”

Nico nods. “Yep. Pretty much.”

Kendall smiles and starts walking. “Let’s go. I’ve got chores and homework. Felt good to play again, though, didn’t it?”

“It was awesome. You get hurt at all?”

“No. I can take it. . . .” She trails off.

“What?”

Kendall looks over her shoulder as they cross the dirt road and cut the corner of a barley field. “Marlena said they moved here right before Tiffany disappeared, and that Eli’s dad suspected Jacián might have had something to do with it.”

“What? That’s crazy.”

“Is it? I mean, how would we know? He’s mean. Maybe he’s unstable.”

“Kendall.”

“Seriously, what if he has her all tied up in the woods. Or maybe he chopped her up into little pieces. . . .”

“Kendall, stop it. That’s ridiculous.”

She’s not convinced.

They walk until they reach the halfway point between their respective family farms—directly across the road from each other. For a moment they stand in the middle of the road facing each other and holding hands. Nico leans in and kisses her sweetly.

“Don’t work too hard,” Nico says.

“You either. Call me at eleven?”

“Always.”

Kendall smiles, and they part company, each down their long driveways.

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