CHAPTER THREE

lost your balance on a tightrope;
lost your mind tryin' to get it back

Oklahoma heat was fucking blistering. He liked what he did, but when it was this hot he would rather being anymore other than the humid garage that lacked air conditioning or even a damn fan.

"Is my car ready yet?" Curly was working on a pretty red Sting Ray. In fact, he had just finished it. He had to just lower back to the ground. He should have known a car like this belonged to a girl like that. Cherry Valance stood over him, her hair a flaming red to match her car. He hadn't seen her since she stopped hanging around Amara.

"Curly Shepard?" She was instantly more resigned. "Since when do you folk do anything legal."

Curly's eyes narrowed at her. "I ain't gonna be in some street gang forever. I ain't stupid."

Curly hadn't thought about what he was going to do after the gang before the gang split. He was oblivious to the fact that he couldn't be in a lame street gang forever until the situation was thrown at him. Cherry didn't need to know that.

"I wasn't trying to say you were stupid, I don't think you are." She sounded sincere enough. He started to lower her car.

"You go pay, I'll bring her out front for you."

Cherry stepped out of sight, into the store. Curly put her car in ground level and drove it out into the lot. It rode so smooth compared to his truck, he was envious of it.

Cherry got into her car but before driving off, she looked up at him. She almost seemed sad. "How's Amara?"

Curly's face scrunched up. He wondered how confused he looked to her. "She's good?"

"You don't know?" Cherry said, equally lost.

"I saw her the other day- but you know me and her- we're over. She's been in California the past year."

Cherry was deeply blushing. "Oh, I would have never thought... Good for her, though."

"Yeah," Curly muttered as Cherry's bright red 'vette zoomed off. "Good for her."

He cruised around for what seemed to be hours before stopping at Joan's. Her brother was out of town in Oklahoma City.

It was cool inside her place, he could hear the hum of all the fans she had on. He appreciated getting out of the heat.

"Joan, you home?"

He heard her answer from down the hall, he went and got a cold beer from her fridge. Before sipping it, he held the frosty glass bottle up to his forehead. The cold made him flinch because of the contrast, but it felt nice.

Joan came into the kitchen. There was a raggedy man behind her, one of those types that looked like they didn't shower in a couple days. He probably hadn't either. Joan was only in a tank top and her panties and the man was only in some ugly blue tie-dye type shorts. He was exactly Joan's usual type. He had just interrupted one of Joan's hook-ups- the perks of having an open relationship.

Curly took a deep swig of his beer.

"I wasn't expecting you," Joan smiled. She wasn't saying it like 'you should have called first' she genuinely didn't mind he had come, and she genuinely didn't find anything awkward about the situation they were in right now. Curly played it off as if he didn't either.

The guy left, Carl or something, Curly didn't really give a shit what his name was.

"You think maybe we can just have a real relationship?" Curly murmured against Joan's lips, mid-making out. It was a bad time, but he couldn't get it off his mind. He hadn't wanted anything serious before but now this whole open thing wasn't agreeing with him anymore. He liked Joan enough to make it private, he was sure of it.

Her eyes were wide, like this shocked her. She was already pulled away from him now, inching off his lap.

"Curly..." She said hesitantly. "You know I don't believe in that stuff."

Joan said the exact thing he thought she would. He had hoped she could have had changed her mind. They had this open thing for four months, which was a long time to stick around.

"It's alright, just a suggestion." He shrugged coolly.

He didn't stay long after that. He got up and stared driving again. First, he ended up at Stevens. Amara's green Cornet had been there. She wasn't exactly what he wanted to deal with right now, so he drove around the block a couple more times then drove back to Stevens. Her car was still there- but this time he sucked it up. He got out of the car, not mature enough not to huff and barged into Stevens.

It was quiet in there, expect for laughter and the clink of glasses.

The girls sat at the dining table, sipping on wine. Steven, Ricky sat around their woman, drinking beers. Some guy Curly had never seen before had his arm around Val. It all looked too old for him, for some reason. Out of place.

Amara's purse lay on the table next to an empty chair and a half drank glass of wine. It wasn't until he walked in further he noticed her on the phone, deeper in the kitchen. She grinned at him, he took her seat.

She talked on the phone only five minutes or less and sauntered back over to the table and handed Steve a handful of change.

"That should do it, I think. It's awful expensive to call California, my god. Will doesn't seem to realize that though. Just keeps talking about what flowers and what kind of cake," She rolled her eyes. A habit that had always irked him but he had always liked. "But I guess the wedding is in August."

The guy that was here with Val laughed. Later he found out he was the Fred from their earlier story. "Amara, you know how crazy Will can be."

Curly didn't find any of this funny. August was only two months away- Amara would be Mrs. Will of California by the end of the summer. It had never sunk in to him before but now it was hitting him.

"Aren't you supposed to be doin' the flowers and shit?" Curly said gruffly. Angel smirked at him like she knew how he felt and was finding humor in it.

"I guess, but weddings have never interested me much and it's important to Will. I let him do it."

"He sounds like a douchebag."

Steven chuckled lowly, shaking his head.

"What kind of cake did he decide on?" Val piped in to divert the attention.

"Just chocolate, with typical white icing. He's getting orange flower decals put around it. They'll match our actual flowers."

Orange. Just like her ring. She hated orange and she hated chocolate cake.

Once she had said something pleasant about orange, that it had looked good on him. But she had also stated how tacky and too bright it happened to be.

"You hate orange and you hate chocolate cake even more." Curly blurted out. Amara's cheeks went red.

"I- I don't hate it and they're his favorite things so it's only fair-"

"Just admit it."

"Enough." Steven looked at Curly warningly. "Curly, just drop it."

He wanted to keep going, ask her what of her favorite things made it into the wedding but Stevens tone had been final.

Maggie had switched the topic to her and Stevens own wedding plans. Theirs was only in one more week. It was less nauseating to hear about their plans but he had hoped the wedding stuff could be dropped all together. He was fucking sick of hearing about cakes and flowers and accent colors or who's invited, who's not. He couldn't even get his girl to have a real relationship.

Curly went and sat down on the porch, plenty of cigarettes to calm him down.

Amara didn't want him, which was his own doing. Joan didn't want to be serious and he had agreed to that. He had nothing to be upset about.

"You're right, I do hate orange and chocolate cake is the worst. Got one of those to share?"

He'd never known Amara to smoke, he tried to recall a point where he had seen her take a puff of a cigarette and thoughts came up blank. He didn't make any move to hand it to her.

"C'mon, I get stressed too."

He reached into his pocket for the pack and lit on for her. She inhaled it without a single cough. She must have done it before.

"If you hate it, then why?" He still hadn't looked at her. He just stared off at the sunset.

"He likes it, I don't care all too much as long as I end up with his last name."

"You're not very hard to please," Curly said with a chuckle and another draw. "What's his last name anyway?"

"Tate."

Amara Tate, he had to admit it rung nicely together. That didn't make him hate it any less, it probably made him hate it more.

"Are you alright, Curly?" She asked in a very serious tone. He didn't exactly understand how she could bring herself to be so nice to him, he had cheated on her no matter how much he tried to forget it. But here she was acting genuinely concerned for him as he watched the sunset.

"Things have been hard." He opened up a little. "I think I'm handling it."

"I heard about Nancy." She said softly.

He hadn't been there when Nancy overdosed but he had found her, passed out on her bedroom floor. Her dad hadn't even noticed. He remembered being in the hospital, crying outside in the waiting room. He didn't even know why he was crying, he had expected this to happen- Nancy was too far gone and even with his attempts at helping her he couldn't get her off drugs. She wasn't even real to him at that point, he wasn't attached. But he had cried, almost as much as he had cried when he found out his dad was dead. He couldn't find a logical reason to why, he was just overwhelmed with everything at that point. It had been a low spot for him and embarrassing.

"I'm over that." He said but he wasn't sure, he always took death hard.

"It's okay not to be tough. I'm sure as hell not tough, so you don't gotta put up walls around me."

When he had first met Amara, he would agree with her. That girl had been anything but tough. Now, he thought a bit differently. She could be brave and quite tough at times. She had to he tough, even to just sit here and console him about an ex that wasn't her, one he had two-timed her with.

"It was scary, I thought she was dead when I touched her. She wasn't, though. She died in her hospital bed."

Amara's was unusually long. "That's horrible," she replied. "I know how much she meant to you."

Nancy hadn't meant half as much as Amara had to him, but he could see where Amara could go wrong. He didn't correct her.

He took a long look at her, trying to fit in back in her old box- the Amara he knew a year ago. It wasn't too hard, she really hadn't changed much, she just seemed to have grown into herself if that made any sense at all.

He liked the way she did herself up now. She had on tall black boots and a black miniskirt, a lace blouse on top. She seemed to be accepting of who she was now and he was glad to see the fancy dresses gone. He dad told him once "people go to California to find themselves, I already know who I am," that had been when he was nine and had asked to go to the beaches there. He had slapped some sunscreen on him and took him to the lake. Curly had found the whole thing stupid.

He pictured Amara in his room, the letter from Nancy in her hand. Her eyes were watery and red but she was trying her damn best to hide it from him. She was dressed as a Soc but she was latched on to him. Amara hadn't found herself then, he realized. She was lost. He figured that had been the exact moment she had come to that realization too.

"I'm not good at apologies," Curlys voice was rough, uncomfortable. "So take this as one. I didn't mean to hurt you."

She nodded, he saw it out of the corner of his eye.

"You might not understand, but thinking back, I think that was just the thing I needed."

He understood.