Below Zero

Sheridan glanced at the house where her mother was and shrugged, “Who knows? He says he’s in exile.”

“It sucks.”

“Yeah.”

“It sucks big-time.”

“Mmmm.”

“It sucks the big one.”

“Okay, Lucy, I got it.”

“Ooooh,” Lucy said, “I see your boyfriend. I knew he was going to come out and stare at you.”

“Stop it.”

Jason Kiner, like Sheridan, was set to be a junior at Saddlestring High School. He’d come home from football practice a half hour before in his ancient pickup. He was tall, dull-eyed, and wide-shouldered with shaved temples and a shock of black hair on top, something all the players had done to show their solidarity to . . . whatever. He had seen Sheridan and Lucy when he drove up in his old pickup but pretended he hadn’t. Playing it cool, Sheridan thought, a trait in boys her age she found particularly annoying. He’d parked near the detached garage, slung his gym bag over his shoulder, and gone into the house.

He emerged now wearing a Saddlestring Wranglers gray hoodie, clean jeans, and white Nikes. He’d spiked his hair. Jason ambled toward the fence in a self-conscious, half-comatose saunter. Waved at them, nonchalant, and leaned forward on the fence with his forearms on the top rail and a Nike on the bottom rail. Trying to make an entrance of sorts, Sheridan thought. They were riding the horse toward the corner of the corral where Jason was waiting. It would be a minute before they’d be upon him.

“There he is,” Lucy whispered.

“I see him. So what?”

“Jason Kiner looooves you.”

“Shut up. He does not.”

“I’ve looked at his MySpace page and his Facebook page,” she whispered. “He looooves you.”

“Stop it.”

“Look at him,” Lucy whispered, giggling. “There’s loooove in his eyes.”

With the arm Jason couldn’t see, Sheridan elbowed her sister in the ribs, and Lucy laughed, “You’ve gotta do better than that.”

When Toby sleepwalked to Jason, Sheridan said, “Hi there.”

“How are you guys doing?” Jason said. “I didn’t see you when I drove up.”

“You didn’t?” Lucy asked, mock serious.

Sheridan gritted her teeth and shot a look over her shoulder at her sister, who looked back with her best innocent and charming face.

“It’s been a long time since I rode,” Sheridan said. “We asked your mom.”

Jason shrugged. “Nobody ever rides him anymore, so you might as well. I’ve been thinking about saddling him up, but with football practice and all . . .”

And the conversation went completely and unexpectedly dead. Sheridan could hear the insects buzz in the grass. She could feel Lucy prodding her to say something.

Finally, Jason’s face lit up with purpose. “Hey—did that chick call you?”

“What chick?”

“She called here a few days ago for you. She still had this number from when you lived here, I guess. I gave her your cell phone number.”

Lucy purred into Sheridan’s ear, “He has your cell phone number?”

Sheridan ignored her. “Nobody called. Who was it?”

“I didn’t know her,” Jason said, “She said she used to live here and still had the number for the house.”

“What was her name?”

Jason screwed up his mouth and frowned. “She said it, but I can’t remember for sure. It was a few days ago. Oh—I remember now. She said something like, ‘April.’ ”

Sheridan dropped the reins in to the grass. “What?”

Jason shrugged. “She said something like, ‘I wonder if she remembers a girl named April.’ Anyway, I gave her your number and . . .”

Lucy said to Sheridan, “Did he say what I thought he said?”

Sheridan leaned forward and felt Lucy grip her hard to keep her balance. “Jason, this isn’t very funny.”

“Who’s trying to be funny?”

“If you are,” Sheridan said, “I’ll kill you.”

Jason stepped back and dropped his arms to his sides as if preparing to be rushed by the two girls. “What’s