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Back This Side of Night
Chapters (110)
  1. Cover
  2. ALSO BY J. TODD SCOTT
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. PROLOGUE
  6. I
  7. II
  8. PART ONE
  9. ONE
  10. TWO
  11. THREE
  12. FOUR
  13. FIVE
  14. SIX
  15. SEVEN
  16. EIGHT
  17. NINE
  18. TEN
  19. ELEVEN
  20. TWELVE
  21. PART TWO
  22. THIRTEEN
  23. FOURTEEN
  24. FIFTEEN
  25. SIXTEEN
  26. SEVENTEEN
  27. EIGHTEEN
  28. NINETEEN
  29. TWENTY
  30. TWENTY-ONE
  31. TWENTY-TWO
  32. TWENTY-THREE
  33. TWENTY-FOUR
  34. TWENTY-FIVE
  35. TWENTY-SIX
  36. TWENTY-SEVEN
  37. TWENTY-EIGHT
  38. TWENTY-NINE
  39. THIRTY
  40. THIRTY-ONE
  41. THIRTY-TWO
  42. THIRTY-THREE
  43. THIRTY-FOUR
  44. THIRTY-FIVE
  45. THIRTY-SIX
  46. THIRTY-SEVEN
  47. THIRTY-EIGHT
  48. THIRTY-NINE
  49. PART THREE
  50. FORTY
  51. FORTY-ONE
  52. FORTY-TWO
  53. FORTY-THREE
  54. FORTY-FOUR
  55. FORTY-FIVE
  56. FORTY-SIX
  57. FORTY-SEVEN
  58. FORTY-EIGHT
  59. FORTY-NINE
  60. FIFTY
  61. FIFTY-ONE
  62. FIFTY-TWO
  63. FIFTY-THREE
  64. FIFTY-FOUR
  65. FIFTY-FIVE
  66. FIFTY-SIX
  67. FIFTY-SEVEN
  68. FIFTY-EIGHT
  69. FIFTY-NINE
  70. SIXTY
  71. SIXTY-ONE
  72. PART FOUR
  73. SIXTY-TWO
  74. SIXTY-THREE
  75. SIXTY-FOUR
  76. SIXTY-FIVE
  77. SIXTY-SIX
  78. SIXTY-SEVEN
  79. SIXTY-EIGHT
  80. SIXTY-NINE
  81. SEVENTY
  82. SEVENTY-ONE
  83. SEVENTY-TWO
  84. SEVENTY-THREE
  85. SEVENTY-FOUR
  86. SEVENTY-FIVE
  87. SEVENTY-SIX
  88. SEVENTY-SEVEN
  89. SEVENTY-EIGHT
  90. SEVENTY-NINE
  91. EIGHTY
  92. EIGHTY-ONE
  93. EIGHTY-TWO
  94. EIGHTY-THREE
  95. EIGHTY-FOUR
  96. EPILOGUE
  97. I
  98. II
  99. III
  100. IV
  101. V
  102. VI
  103. VII
  104. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  105. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  106. Excerpt from LOST RIVER
  107. LITTLE PARIS
  108. DILLON
  109. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  110. What’s next onyour reading list?

Smiling like a fool as she circled him in cigarette smoke, humming melodies to her songs.

They once walked together along the dirt road by the school, near the fields the normalistas had worked so hard to plant, and for each song she sang, he pointed out for her a different plant, tree, or flower: the dahlias and the lechuguilla and the guayule. The candelilla and the drooping molina and bright red splash of ocotillo. He showed her the sideways S of a rattlesnake’s passage drawn in the dust, and pointed out the difference between the footsteps of a mule deer and a javelina. He told her that at one time jaguars had hunted these areas, but they were long gone, or no one had seen one in such a long time that it was much the same thing. She asked where he was from, and although he was embarrassed, he told her anyway—near Blanco—and when she admitted she did not know that place, he said no one did.

And then she had laughed, though he wasn’t trying to be funny, and it was still the most beautiful sound in the world. She even put her hand on his arm—for a heartbeat—to let him know she meant no harm.

It was the first time he’d felt those fingers on his bare, tanned skin, and although he was ashamed of how filthy he was from the fields, he couldn’t shy away from that slight brush of fingertips . . . letting her touch work all the way through him. Right into his blood and bone. For hours after she was gone he’d still felt that brief contact—heavy and hot and beating in time with his heart—leaving him both happy and terrified that he would always feel it.

That it would never go away, or worse, never come again.

It wasn’t just that touch, but also what she’d said: how she’d smiled and put her head next to his as if they were sharing a secret, sharing one breath, and whispered that she liked his seriousness. He’d wanted so badly then to tell her that she was beautiful—the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen—but she’d already pulled her hand back from his arm, dancing away down the sunlit road, taking all his words and breath and heart away with her.

—

NEVA DIDN’T WANT TO CHANGE THE WORLD, she wanted to leave it.