“This summer sucks,” Johnny mumbled.

Kevin glanced at him. “They’ll find the little girl and things will go back to normal. You’ll see. Heil will make sure of it.”

“Well, it sure is taking a long time.” Johnny sounded annoyed and maybe he heard it in his own voice because he added, “I don’t mean to sound cruel. I feel real bad about what happened. She was just a kid, you know? But why are they dragging it out? Why can’t they find her?”

“It’s a natural lake. It’s deep.” Kevin pulled in a long drag and exhaled slowly. “The lake community can’t afford to bring in outsiders to help. Or they won’t. It draws too much attention. The recovery team is the only one in the county. And there’s a lot of lake to cover.”

They stopped at the edge of the ballpark.

Johnny raised his arms and clasped his hands behind his head. “I guess.” He stretched, twisting left and right, cracking his spine. “But it all sounds like bullshit to me,” he said.

Kevin smelled something funny coming from Johnny’s hair and skin. It wasn’t cigarette smoke, but it was familiar. When Johnny lowered his arms, Kevin smelled it again a little stronger this time and recognized the scent of marijuana. He shouldn’t be surprised and in fact, he wasn’t. How could he fault the boy when he had smoked the stuff at the same age?

*   *   *

Eddie had rolled the first joint inside the dugout right there at the ballpark. Kevin had been strumming his guitar. He had taken the guitar with him almost everywhere he went that summer for the sole purpose of gaining Jo’s attention. The others were sprawled on the benches, smoking cigarettes and eventually the poorly rolled joint.

“None for me,” Kevin said when Eddie passed it to him. “It messes with my voice.”

“Isn’t that the point?” Billy asked, zeroing in on Kevin, giving him that undivided attention everyone in the group coveted.

“Maybe it is,” Kevin said, thinking it must be nice to have everyone want your attention. He glanced at Jo. She was staring into the open field. He put the guitar down and took a hit. Billy directed his attention to Eddie, and the two became engrossed in some discussion over what Kevin could no longer remember. Sheila sat in Eddie’s lap and joined the conversation.

At one point Jo had gotten up and walked away. Kevin watched her walk past the pitcher’s mound and onto centerfield, where she lay down. Darkness enveloped her. He could barely make out her shape on the ground.

Maybe it was the weed or the beer, but Kevin felt brave enough to leave the dugout and join her. The others were distracted and no one mentioned his absence. He lay down next to her in the damp grass and stared up at the night sky. The brush of her arm against his forearm sent his pulse racing.

“Have you ever seen so many stars?” she asked in that stoned way of talking. “They’re so far away and I don’t know, otherworldly.”

“Yes, one could say that about space.”

She nudged his arm. “You know what I mean.”

He didn’t know what she meant, nor did he care. She could talk nonsense all night long as long as she talked with him, lay next to him.

But she remained silent after that. Billy and Eddie’s discussion grew more animated, and their voices cut across the field. Occasionally, Sheila joined the debate. But to Kevin the others seemed as far away as the stars from where he lay next to Jo. It was just the two of them in the open field under the shimmering night sky. He could just make out the rise and fall of her chest, the slight part in her lips as she stared into the night.

“Do you ever dream about the future, Kev?” she asked. “About what you want to do with your life?”

“Sure, I guess. I mean, doesn’t everybody?”

“I suppose.” She turned to look at him. “What do you dream about?”

“I dream about this,” he said. A shadow covered her face, and he couldn’t see her eyes. “About lying next to you under the stars.”

She swatted his arm. “Seriously, what do you dream about?”

“I am being serious,” he said, and under the cover of dark, he found the courage to add, “I dream about you.”

“Stop screwing around,” she said, her tone suddenly sober. “I want something more than just this place. I want to travel and see the world. I want to be of the world, not just in it. I want to dance under the stars on faraway beaches. I want to taste exotic cuisine. I want … I want…” She broke off. “I want something more out of life. I want to be free.” She wrapped her pinky finger around his.

His heart soared.

Billy’s voice boomed from somewhere close behind them. “Hey, you two lovebirds,” he said in an innocent, teasing way, as though the two couldn’t possibly be anything more than friends.

Kevin’s stomach suddenly burned with anger and something close to rage. Why was it so impossible for Billy to imagine Jo might actually want to be with him?

Jo unraveled her finger from Kevin’s and reached for Billy. He pulled her up and into his arms, kissing her face and neck, his hands roaming up and down her body, gripping her in a tight embrace.

Kevin slowly got to his feet and made his way back to the dugout. He grabbed his guitar. Eddie and Sheila had moved to the far corner of the bench to be alone. Kevin looked back across the field. He could no longer separate Billy’s body from Jo’s.

He felt sick. He made it as far as the dirt road that led into the colony, dropped to his knees, and vomited.

He didn’t fully grasp what Jo meant when she said she wanted to be free. Did she mean free of Billy? And if that were true, could he give her what she wanted? Would she even let him try? But she had held his hand, or his finger, as they gazed at the stars. She had reached out to him. What else could it have meant? He vowed he would do whatever it would take to make her happy. Just give me a chance, Jo, he whispered to himself. I promise to do what I have to, to never let you go.

*   *   *

“Hey.” Johnny waved his hand in front of Kevin’s face. “She’s not in the dugouts,” he said. “Maybe we should try the Pavilion. Why is Mom looking for her anyway? I mean, what’s the big deal?”

Kevin pulled on the cigarette, shaking off the memory. “I don’t know, but I’m sure we’ll find out.”

They walked the Lake Road rather than taking the old path through the woods. The rain had finally stopped, but the path would be slippery and wet. The air was thick with humidity. Kevin’s skin felt sticky, the booze from last night seeping from his pores.

When they reached the Pavilion and lake, Sheriff Borg’s vehicle was in the parking lot along with several other cars. A crowd of teenagers gathered around a customized sports car. Kevin recognized Chris, Dee Dee’s son, leaning in the driver’s-side window, talking to whomever sat behind the wheel. A couple of teenage girls posed near the car, trying to look sophisticated, maybe even sexy. Kevin was embarrassed to catch himself looking at one of the girl’s large breasts. She waved. He pointed to his chest as if to say, Me? Then he looked behind him and had to laugh at himself when Johnny waved back. She had to be Johnny’s girl.

“So, uh,” Johnny said. He couldn’t meet Kevin’s eyes. “I’m going to go. Tell Mom, if I see Caroline, I’ll let her know she’s looking for her.” He started to walk away with a familiar swagger that made Kevin feel as though someone had kicked him in the gut.

“Johnny,” he called.

Johnny turned, tossing the long hair out of his eyes.

“Do you love her?” Kevin asked, but only loud enough for Johnny to hear.

The personal question took them both by surprise. Johnny looked at his feet and then over his shoulder at his friends. He turned back toward Kevin. “Not really,” he said.

“That’s good,” Kevin said, and crushed the cigarette he had been smoking underneath his sneaker. “You’re better off.”