Straddling the Line - By Sarah M. Anderson Page 0,46

invisible, unacknowledged white man?

But this wasn’t about Ben, not really.

Matt had never come to the rez, never met the tribe. Only a few people—Mom, Jenny—had even seen his picture or known how badly he’d broken her heart. Everyone—the whole damned tribe—knew about Ben. How long before she became the traitor to the tribe? Before people like Don Two Eagles forgot about all the work she’d done to get the school going, to take care of her people? How long before she became the invisible, wannabe white woman?

Don’t be ridiculous, she thought. If there was one undeniable fact that she had to remember, it was that the only things Ben and Matt had in common were maleness and whiteness. And yes, people would talk. But their gossip didn’t define her. She knew what she wanted. Rather than get stuck trying to game plan a response to every individual criticism of her life, she needed to focus on the here and now.

Ben was nice. Dinner sounded promising. As much as she already couldn’t wait to see what other bedroom tricks that man had up his sleeve, she wanted to understand him. She hoped he wanted to understand her.

The sex had been memorable. Unforgettable.

But she wanted more.

Nine

Josey parked in a spot marked Reserved beside the factory next to the van that she thought belonged to the guy named Stick. The moment she opened her car door, the sound of caterwauling filled the air. She was early. The band was still here.

She grabbed her overnight bag and locked her doors. She debated heading toward the noise—she did like to watch Ben play, after all—but then she remembered the crude comments the other two band members had made. Maybe she’d just go upstairs.

The freight elevator seemed even spookier this time, but she figured out where the hidden keypad was and got the code right on the second try. Her stomach was doing wonderfully conflicting flips as the thing lurched its way up. She didn’t want to admit to herself how much she’d been looking forward to another night with Ben—and how excited she’d been about spending a little more time at his place. But to just walk right in, like she owned it? At best, this was a third date, assuming the first three meetings counted as one total outing. She was prepared this time, with a little lube she’d snagged at the drugstore and her own toothbrush. She should feel ready. But she didn’t.

She belonged in this world, she reminded herself. She fit here. She fit on the rez, too. It was fine to walk in both worlds. And besides, it wasn’t like the whole of the tribe was sitting around Ben’s apartment, watching them like old-fashioned chaperones, ready to smack Ben’s knuckles with a ruler if he so much as looked at her funny. This relationship was no one else’s business except hers and Ben’s. That’s all there was to it.

Finally, the elevator came to a jarring stop, sending her stumbling. That darn thing was going to take a lot of getting used to. She got the door open and heard—music? Wasn’t Ben down with the band?

Fighting a rising tide of dread, she stepped out into the apartment. “Hello?” she called, but the pounding piano drowned her out. No one was in the band area—she didn’t see anyone at all. A lilting woman’s voice echoed around her. Did Ben even like Sarah McLachlan?

She walked down the main aisle. Without Ben in it, this place gave her the creeps. It was too big, too empty—all the furniture notwithstanding. How did he stand it here all by himself?

Unless he wasn’t all by himself. She realized it was brighter up front, near the kitchen. Someone was here.

“Hello? Ben?”

A head—a female head—popped out from behind a cabinet. “Oh, hey! You’re early!”

Josey froze. “Excuse me?”

The woman—with fire-engine-red hair and piercings in her nose, ears and eyebrows—clicked a remote. The music faded away as she came around the island and gave Josey an explicit once-over. “Wow. He said you were beautiful, but damn, girl. Look at you!” She let out a wolf whistle and then called out over Josey’s shoulder, “Baby! Come meet the new girl!”

“Um, what?” Josey’s head began to spin. She’d thought— Ben had acted like— What kind of stuff was he into?

Footsteps echoed behind her. Josey spun awkwardly to see another punk-ish girl striding toward her, except this one had artificially black hair and far too much eyeliner. She advanced on Josey with a predatory stare.