by Mj Hendrix
The ringing in my ear is echoing from the phone pressed against it.
Please answer.
“Hello?” Her voice is raspy when she finally picks up.
“Hi,” I say, a little surprised she answered. My heart rate speeds up.
“I can’t talk for long.”
I hear a door closing on her end. I’m walking out into a field, aimlessly wandering around the grassy pasture.
“How…how’s it going there?” I ask like a coward, avoiding what really needs to be said.
“It’s good. They’re great people. They like me.” Her voice holds a hint of defensiveness that I barely pick up on.
“Are you…” I trail off, blowing out a breath. This can’t happen over the phone. “Are you doing anything fun tonight?”
“Yes. Kenna got us tickets to a concert.”
“Oh, okay. Glad you’re having fun,” I force out over the mass in my throat.
She’s silent for a minute.
“Thanks. I gotta get ready.”
“Okay, well...bye,” I reply, and the line cuts off.
I survey the luscious expanse of green stretching as far as my eye can see. My family owns hundreds of acres in every direction from where I’m standing. I know that if I’d never gone to Ole Tex and met an inked goddess, I’d be perfectly content to stay here and marry a sweet girl, never venturing from the place of my birth.
37
Harley
If he doesn’t break up with me soon, I’ll lose my ability to be cold toward him. He’s been home for four days, but I’m guessing my name hasn’t come up yet. If it had, he’d either be breaking up with me or leaving home. I can’t imagine that a conversation about me would go well—unless he agrees with them and is waiting to do it in person like a gentleman.
My belly is tight as I stand up from the side of the tub in Kenna’s enormous house. I’m staying in one of four guest suites on the third floor. It’s decorated in a modern style with neutral accents.
The bed is an actual cloud Mrs. Davis lassoed down from the sky, I have no doubt. I guess the oil business isn’t a bad one to be in.
“Haarleey,” my roommate singsongs from the hallway. “You almost ready?”
She appears in my open doorway as I start putting on my worn Steve Maddens. She’s in a violet lacy crop top and high-waisted black jeans, appropriate for Texas in November. Her curls are enormous, and I feel like since we are in her hometown, she’s wearing them bigger than usual.
“Yep. Is this okay?” I ask.
She insisted, as usual, I wear something of hers to the music festival. She observes my ensemble of a white off-the-shoulder top and distressed, high-waisted acid-wash jeans. We are once again yin and yang, and we start to laugh.
“My parents just left for dinner. We’re just gonna take my Jeep since we’ll be splitting off afterward.” She’s looking down at her phone, a tiny smile on her face.
“Who are you texting?” I ask, grabbing my phone and some cash.
She jolts, clicking the screen off.
“Just some friends we’re going to meet up with.” She beams at me. “You should go with a bold pink lip. Oh! Hold up.” She races back to her room.
“I’m fine with these shoes!” I grumble, knowing what she's going to bring back.
She ignores me, returning with a tube of fuchsia lip stain and perfectly matching suede heels that look painful already.
“Ugh, I wanted to dance and feel my toes.”
She nods vigorously. “These are SO comfortable! You won’t believe how magical they feel on your feet. Just try them, please. Put them on when we get there, and leave your flats in the Jeep.”
She’s impossible to deny, so I nod begrudgingly. Her cheeks look like they should be in pain with how big she’s grinning.
It’s easier with Kenna because she knows nearly nothing about what happened in Carbona. She got a broken version of events where I basically told her that my foster mom wanted me to finish a modeling shoot, but I couldn’t because the artist wasn’t available to do the tattoo. I left out ninety percent of the embarrassing details.
It helps that her family treats me like I’m their long-lost daughter. Her mom insisted on taking us for mani-pedis on the first day we arrived in town. She presented us each with a new Kate Spade handbag “just because.” Every day since then, they’ve coddled us with anything we could even dream of asking for. Kenna got a haircut and highlights, insisting on me getting a much-needed trim.
I’ve begged them to let me pay for things, but they will hear none of it.
Dinner is phenomenal. We just finished a gourmet meal of roasted lamb and au gratin potatoes. I would’ve preferred brownies, followed by a burrito, but I’d never say it. We’re sitting near a roaring outdoor fireplace that’s heating our backs.
“Thank you so much for the meal. It was amazing,” I say to Mr. and Mrs. Davis as the server clears the last of the dishes.
“You have no choice. We’ve adopted you.” Mrs. Davis smiles warmly at me, her husband squeezing her hand.
I nod, my voice trapped.
Kenna saves me from having to give a choked response. “You’re my sister, no arguments. Well, we’re going to be late if we stay too long. Love you. Bye.” She stands, and I follow, still holding in the emotion.
“McKenna, you call an Uber if you decide to have a drink,” her father reminds her, concern in his tone.
“They won’t let us drink there, Dad,” she reassures him, leaving out the part about her fake ID.
She bends to give them hugs. I wave as we leave the restaurant, several men at the bar following us with their eyes. I check my phone, wishing I had a text and feeling a stab of disappointment that the screen is blank.
I’ve got to get over it.
He’s probably talking to a sweet, little country girl while I pine over him. No, he wouldn’t do that to me. He’s not that guy.
He is, more likely, listening to his mother give him warnings about all the dangerous prostitutes that lure you in on college campuses.
We’re already on our way to the concert when I turn to Kenna. “Can you just take me home? I really don’t feel like it tonight.”
Lying on the cloud bed pouting is all I want to do. I can’t fathom dancing right now. My whole body feels heavy.
“What?!” she exclaims, taking her eyes off the road a second too long. She jerks the wheel back, and I grab for the door handle. “You can’t bail! I told all my friends about you, and they can’t wait to meet you.” She chances another peek at me with wide, pleading green eyes.
“I don’t feel good…” I trail off, looking out at the pink sunset over the flat desert.
“Are you missing him?” she asks.
She’s hardly questioned me about the distance between me and Adam, but I know she isn’t oblivious to it.
“Yes, but I feel like he’s probably going to break up with me when we get back.” I sigh, leaning back against the leather.
I see her shaking blonde curls in my peripheral vision.
“No way, absolutely not. He’s obsessed with you.” She pulls up to a red light, turning to face me. “I know something happened you aren’t telling me.”
Guilt twinges my gut.
“And I’m not going to lie and say your sadness lately doesn’t make me worry about you.” She hesitates, chewing on a nail. “You can share anything, in your time. Adam is one of the good ones, and I have no doubt in my mind about it.”
The green flashes in front of us, and her red Jeep accelerates.
“I just…I guess the real issue is his family. Yeah, my whole ugly history coming to his attention wasn’t my favorite thing, but it just reminded me how…tarnished I am. A good portion of the Midwest has seen me in lingerie, and his mom called me a harlot, so…”
Kenna slams on the brakes, and a horn blares behind us.
“What the hell?! Are you kidding me?” she screeches, slowly letting off the brakes and continuing at a slower speed.
“That is disgusting. What a whore,” she spits, checking the rearview.
I wish I hadn’t told her. It’s embarrassing enough that my boyfriend’s family sees me like trash by the side of the road on a Wednesday morning, waiting to get picked up.
“It’s whatever. I just think in the future, it’s going to be a major issue. I think he secretly wonders if we can make it work too. I know he cares about me, but…” I sigh in defeat, the situation feeling insurmountable.
“You are full of self-doubt, and it’s completely toxic. You are such a bad bitch, in the best way. He sees that, or he wouldn’t have been trying so hard to cheer you up lately. We talked about it, and—”
“You talked about it?” I interrupt, facing her.
“Well, I mean, he asked me if I had any ideas to help him show you how much he cares. I really think he would tell his whole family sayonara for your love.”
She smiles at me, but all my heart does is sink further down. Several long seconds pass by.
“I don’t want him to have to do that…” My voice is barely audible. “All I’ve ever wanted is a family…and he has one—a judgmental one, sure. But they are obsessed with him. He’s clearly, like, the beloved firstborn son. Then, I walked up, covered in tattoos and wooing him into my web of seduction.” I shake my head. “He shouldn’t cut off ties with them to be with me. That would be completely unfair to ask of him. I shouldn’t have gotten back together with him in the first place.”
My head is drooped to the side, pressed against the cold window. Kenna is silent for a few more moments as we begin pulling into the crowded parking lot. She finds a space but doesn’t turn off the engine.
“Look, if you really want, I will take you back home. I think you should try to get out and forget about it all for a few hours. Use your fake to have a few drinks and put Adam and his bitch mother out of your head. If you go home, it’ll just overwhelm you. You need a mental break.” She looks at me, tilting her head to the side, waiting on my decision.
“Ugh, I’ll try.”
I kick my flats off, replacing them with the pink suede heels that probably cost more than everything in my wardrobe. I flip down the mirror and apply the matching lip stain, combing my fingers through my loose waves.
Kenna is on her phone again, presumably texting the group we’re meeting. She clicks it off, smiling at me once again. “Ready?”
“I guess.”
I’m trying to drum up some enthusiasm for the evening. Maybe she’s right; if I drink a little, I might relax. I hope her friends aren’t too chatty.
We make our way to the entrance, and I hand them my fake ID. It was a gift from Kenna to cheer me up. The bouncer eyes my etched body and wraps a neon-green bracelet tightly around my wrist.
Kenna gets one, too, and we saunter through the gate into the enormous outdoor venue. There’s an opener already strumming an acoustic guitar on a stage with a giant screen displaying the band’s picture.
It’s teeming with people of various ages, mostly college students home for break. Kenna is recognized within seconds, and I’m introduced to an innumerable mass of humans I don’t even attempt to remember. They all survey me like I’m the new girl in a freshman English class who just said she wants to try out for the cheer team. They’re wondering if I somehow blackmailed Kenna into being my friend, and I’m over it after about ten minutes.
“I need a drink. Be back in a sec,” I mumble into Kenna’s ear as she giggles with a gorgeous, tall redhead.
She latches on to my elbow. “Okay. I know the DJ, so meet me in the booth, okay?” She smiles widely.
I nod, not surprised at all, and go searching for a bar. The line is longer than the exit off the highway you need on Friday afternoon, so I pull out my phone while I wait.
Nothing.
He’s so done. He met a new girl. She’s perfect, a virgin. I bet she knows how to make mouthwatering homemade rolls and has already changed a thousand diapers. He’ll teach her how to have sex, and she’ll fucking love it because he’s a natural. He’ll do that delicious thing that he must’ve just wanted to do, and I shiver at the memory.
“You cold, babe?” a disgusting familiar voice asks me.
I look up at a smirking face, boring brown eyes eating me up.
“Nope,” I say coldly.
I take a step forward in the line, and Kyle falls in beside me.
“Wow, I had no idea you owned clothes that could cover so much.” He laughs.
“What do you want?” I hope he can smell the disdain.
“Same ole, same ole. I thought I made it clear before.” He leers at me again, and I roll my eyes with the boring ritual.
“Blah, blah, you want me to stroke your tiny, hairy balls, and you’ll tear me down eventually—got it. Can we skip to the part where you run off and find someone easy?” I fold my arms over my chest, not at all in the mood to be polite to the jerk who groped me. “Why are you here anyways?”
“My dad runs this place. I get to pick the opener for shows when they don’t have one already,” he boasts.
I imagine that line works with way too many girls.
He continues with one-liners all the way to the bar. He attempts every ploy in the book, but I ignore him with ease. He’s just another Chihuahua barking at me on the street. I’ll only respond to the soft, sweet lion with a quiet roar.
When I get to the bartender—a girl with more tattoos than me—I order my usual lemon vodka and club soda with lime. She nods, mechanically making the drink.
“Bourbon, on the rocks, Jade,” Kyle orders with a wink. “Put ours on the tab,” he says.
I’m poor enough that turning down a free drink isn’t in my wheelhouse, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to thank Kyle’s dad for it.
He follows me as I search for Kenna.
“So, did it ever go down with you and that farmer?” he asks as we weave through warm bodies.
I’m not in any mood to discuss my relationship, so I don’t answer. He interprets my silence as an opportunity.
“Ahh, well, that’s too bad. You know I’ll make it better for you than he ever could.” He smiles, leaning into my ear as he says it.
He smells like Marlboro Reds. He looks like the sleazy version of Adam with longer blond hair and darker eyes. I guess he’d be sexy if he was someone else and not a total prick. My blood turns to ice as I realize that he’s a type I would’ve eventually settled for—before I experienced what it felt like to be cherished.
I want to back away, but the crowd is pushing me in. We finally reach a small clearing, and I step a safe distance from him. A man with long hair and a beard is on the stage now, beginning to strum on an acoustic guitar as the crowd cheers.
“I don’t want you. Leave me alone,” I say without remorse, setting my jaw.
He throws his head back in a laugh, running a hand through his conditioned waves. “They all say that at first.” He steps closer, his hand reaching for my waist. His smoker breath is in my ear as he whispers, “You’ll come around. I’ll make you scream.”
I jerk back from him, raising my hand to slap his face again.
A tan, muscled arm splits us apart, grabbing Kyle’s wrist. We both start, and I look to my right into a stern, handsome face.
“She said she wants you to leave her alone.” Adam’s voice is fierce, a no-nonsense tone I wish he’d use when I’m naked.
He shoves Kyle’s wrist down, causing the drink in his other hand to spill.
“Whoa, I thought y’all were split up, man. I swear.” He backs away, clearly not invested enough to get into an altercation over me.
“Well, we’re not. Go,” Adam grits out, the veins in his neck popping out.
The announcer tells us that Chris Stapleton is playing “What Are You Listening To,” and Kyle shuffles in the other direction. I watch him leave, my mouth slightly agape.
Then, I’m staring up into stunning amber eyes. He won’t touch me even though I’m begging him to with my eyes. Doesn’
t he know how much I want it?
“What…what’re you doing here?” I choke out, my voice cracking.
He licks his lips, eyes burning over me. “Look at the screen, please.”
My eyes travel to the stage, and I suck in a breath, my hand covering my mouth.
The bearded man is playing onstage, and a video of me and Adam is flashing on the display above him. I’m wearing an oversize shirt, and it looks like I don’t have pants on. He’s in his trademark torn jeans and a flannel shirt. I’m running toward him, and he scoops me up with an enormous grin. My legs wrap around his waist, my head above his as our lips lock.
We’re in front of the cafeteria at Ole Tex. Kenna’s contented gasp can be heard in the background. Moments later, we were undressed in the bathroom, but I know that won’t be on the video. As it ends, the screen changes to a recording of us kissing in the ferns when the older lady accidentally took a video instead of a picture. Adam’s face is serious, his hands in my hair. I’m smiling up at him like he’s the center of my entire universe. It could be a movie trailer, the kind with the ending you want to dream about.
He’s right next to me, and the people around us are giving us side-eyes, like, Isn’t that y’all?
“How’d you do this?” I say, breathless. Is he really trying to announce to all these people that we're together?
His eyes have been focused on me the entire song, never straying to the screen.
“I…Kenna helped me,” he admits, sucking on his lower lip like I wish I were.
I remember how my roommate knows everyone, including the DJ. My hand reaches up to hold the side of his whiskery face, and he closes his eyes, indulging in the contact shamelessly.
“You’re breathtaking,” he says, eyes blazing with emotion.
“I’ve been horrible,” I confess, sick of the charade. “I’m so…so sorry.” My voice is racked with guilt, desperate for forgiveness.
He’s a modern-day Prince Charming, and I’m a stepsister, evil and conniving.
He pulls me closer, hands tightly gripping my lower back, teasing the top of my jeans.
