The Last Harvest(20)

I drag Jess back to the truck and buckle her in. “What the hell are you doing out here?” She doesn’t even fight. It’s like she’s amused by the whole thing.

“You lied to me,” I yell, pulling the truck back on the road. “You told me you weren’t hanging around the Wiggins kid.”

“I never told you that. You just don’t listen. Lee’s nice to me. He listens. He knows things.”

“Oh, yeah, like what? How to be a goddamn loser?”

“Things.” The way she says it, the way she’s smiling, makes me want to crawl out of my skin. The thought of that sick kid laying a finger on my sister makes me want to turn back and pummel him to death with my bare fists. But I can’t lose control again. I tighten my grip on the steering wheel. “So, what? You’re skipping school now?”

“At least I came home last night.”

I glance over at her and wish I hadn’t. That sly smile curling the corner of her smudged red mouth.

I clench my jaw. “It’s not what you think.”

“Don’t worry, Mom covered for you, said you must’ve left early to get supplies. You’re still perfect in Noodle’s eyes.”

I drive past the last turn to head back into town, and Jess fidgets in her seat. “You’re not taking me back to school?”

I don’t answer. I’m so pissed I can hardly stand to be in the same car with her.

“Clay! What are you going to do?”

“The question is what are you going to do.” I can’t believe I just used the same line Mr. Neely used on me.

She groans. “Are you going to rat me out or not?”

“I’ll tell you what, if you wash all that crap off your face, put on some normal clothes, and do something nice for Mom, I’ll tell her you came home sick.”

“That’s blackmail.” She huffs, staring out the window.

“We all make sacrifices. That’s life,” I say as I turn into our drive. “I can’t believe you’re hanging around at Merritt’s … and in Noodle’s shirt.”

“Is that what’s really bothering you?” she snaps. “Here, take it.” She yanks it off and throws it in my lap. She’s just sitting there in a black sports bra.

I shield my eyes. “What the hell’s going on with you?”

She pulls on the flannel wrapped around her waist and pushes her boot against the dash, holding her head in her hand. “What does it even matter?”

I look over at her, remembering a time when everything was a lot simpler. We were just kids lying in the wheat, watching storms roll past, seeing who could hold out the longest before running back to the house. She was always braver than I was.

I pull up in front of the house and turn off the engine. Taking in a deep breath, I say, “It matters. To me.”

We sit there in silence.

“I know about the school,” Jess says almost under her breath.

“What?” My throat goes dry.

She leans over and pulls a letter from her backpack. It’s already been opened.

I grab it out of her hands and read it.

“We are pleased to inform you that Natalie Tate has been accepted into the All Saints Academy for the following academic year.

Please remit the full deposit by November 1st.”

“She’s in.” I exhale, my shoulders dropping a good two inches. “Noodle got in.” I look over at Jess to find her glaring at me. I fold the letter and put it in my back pocket. “How long have you had this?”

“A few days.”

“You know, just because you’re pissed about your own life, don’t take it out on Noodle. She’s got a good shot at getting out of here. Making something of her life.”

“And I don’t.” She picks at her already mutilated cuticles.

“I’m not saying that.” I let out a frustrated sigh. “But you’ve done nothing to show me any different.”

Jess opens the door and gets out, black tears streaming down her face. “I shouldn’t have to show you. You should just know.”

I want to go after her, tell her I’m sorry, but I can’t. I can’t deal with one more thing. I stare out at the wheat waving in the wind. All that matters is the harvest. I see it so clearly now. All of this with the Preservation Society, Miss Granger, Tyler, Ali … it was just a giant distraction I made up to avoid reality. I have forty-four acres of untilled wheat. This is my reality. Finishing the last harvest is the only thing that will help us now.

Save me.





12

I KILL the wheat. Ten acres in eight hours. A new record for me. My body aches; it’s tough just prying myself out of the combine. I can hardly keep my eyes open, but that’s the way I want it. I might work myself to death, but at least I’ll be sane.

As I drag myself up the rickety front steps, Noodle opens the door. “We ate without you,” she says as she takes my jacket and hat, hanging them up. “Just like you asked, but it wasn’t near as much fun. Jess sat there like a lump, didn’t say a word.” Noodle pulls out her sticker bag. “Tell me when,” she says and starts to place them one at a time on the board, counting out loud as she goes.

She looks up at me with wide eyes when we make it past five, and when we pass eight, she’s grinning so hard I think she might explode.