Page 105 of Possibly Texas

I’d had to adjust to a million different places over the course of my life on the road with my mom.

Why was Possibly so different?

“TELL ME, JORDAN!” Auggie rushed forward, his arms out in front of him.

His hands connected with my pecs and he pushed me back. The guy weighed so little compared to me, and if I knew anything, it was that he wasn’t trying his hardest to push me. I still took a step back out of habit.

“SAY IT, JORDAN!” Auggie pushed me again, his eyes suddenly misty. “SAY IT! WHAT AM I?”

Once more, Auggie rushed at me, his hands braced out in front of him, ready to slam into my chest and shove me backwards. I reached up, my stomach doing flip-flops, and caught Auggie’s wrists, stopping him. His forward momentum nearly caused him to plow into me, but he stopped himself at the last second. The two of us stood there, only his hands on my chest separating us, Auggie’s fiery eyes boring into mine.

The anger had been completely flushed from me, replaced by confusion. And desperation. And longing. And fear.

My hands trembled as my fingers clutched at his wrists, gripping them just tightly enough to keep his hands against my chest. Auggie snarled at me, glaring into my face as I held his hands against my chest and prayed for my stomach to settle. A whirlwind of thoughts swirled through my head as I stared down into the fiery eyes of my…friend?

As we stood there, unspeaking, staring into each other’s eyes, Auggie’s expression softened bit by bit. His breath was warm on my face and his hands felt like fire against my chest. I didn’t want either to be taken away. Auggie’s eyes didn’t return to their former blank, uncaring state, but the anger was flushed from them, replaced by an emotion that was…unreadable. Maybe disappointment? Gently, though with intention, he pulled his hands from my grip.

When he stepped back, taking his hands from my chest, I nearly moaned with displeasure.

Auggie stared at me a moment longer, the space between us like a widening chasm, then he was looking anywhere but at me.

Finally, he spoke: “Go home, Jordan.”

“I—”

“Get out,” he said softly, but with resolve. “Leave.”

“I—”

“Please. Now, please.”

With no idea what it was I wanted to say to Auggie, or what I had intended to say, I let my eyes linger on him for only a moment longer. Then I turned on my heels and shuffled back to the barn doors. I intended to honor Auggie’s request to just leave, but when I crossed over the threshold and stepped out into the sun, I found myself turning to get one last look at Auggie.

“You’re not stupid, Auggie,” I said just loudly enough to be heard by him. “You’re brilliant.”

Auggie didn’t look up, but he kicked the toe of his shoe against the ground.

“I think you’re brilliant,” I said.

Then I left.

Wrathful, black storm clouds descended on Possibly, Texas the following day. Bloated with unshed rain, and torpid in their movements overhead, thunderless lightning etched through them sporadically, like illuminated veins practically electrifying the air in town. The Possibilian breeze ceased and the town grew quiet and still. When I rose from bed and my bedroom was still dark as night, I had looked through the dormer windows to see if maybe I had been woken in the middle of the night by something. When I saw the angry clouds hanging bulbously in the sky over Possibly, my gut sank.

Something was coming.

Though I’d lived—even if briefly—on the Gulf Coast during hurricane season, and in Tornado Alley during the spring and early summer, I’d never seen such angry clouds.

They weren’t carrying in a hurricane—Possibly was landlocked far from the Texas coast. A tornado was possible, but the clouds didn’t remind me of how the sky had looked before other tornados I’d seen. As I knelt there on my bed, staring out at the black clouds through my window, I had a thought that even the craziest of Possibilian would scoff at if they heard it.

The clouds weren’t just bringing weather…they were bringing scorn.

Anger.

Angry was what the sky was.

Over what or whom, I wasn’t sure, but I knew, somewhere deep inside me, that the black clouds above were out for vengeance.

Down in Possibly, I could see that the streets were mostly clear. Anyone walking in town hurriedly made their way into whatever building was their destination. No one lingered on the corners catching up with each other. Earl Dean was nowhere to be seen on Liberty Lane. Levi Lee wasn’t outside of Starbuck’s, pretending to be part of the hull. Obviously, he was inside helping out or at home—wherever that might be.