The Hard Way

by Katie Ashley

  Humphrey threw the cruiser into reverse then swung it around and stomped his foot on the gas pedal. When he came to the pond, he screeched to a halt. Without a word, he got out of the cruiser and opened the door. I quickly scrambled out with Cade close behind me. “Thank you, Officer Humphrey. You have a very nice day. I’m sure you’ll have a lot to talk about when you get back to the station,” Cade said sarcastically.

  Officer Humphrey clenched his jaw and glared away from Cade. Wanting to put as much distance as I could between Cade and the officer, I started power walking toward my farm.

  “Hey, where’s the fire?” Cade asked when he jogged up to me.

  “Nowhere. I wasn’t lying to Officer Humphrey. I really do need to get back to the farm and get the harvester put into the barn.”

  We walked along in silence for a few more moments before Cade asked, “Avery, what’s the matter?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Then why are you so quiet?”

  “I guess I’m just overwhelmed by what happened.”

  Cade snorted. “Yeah, I guess for a goody two-shoes like you, being in a cop car would be overwhelming.”

  A voice in my head told me to keep my mouth shut, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. “I’m also confused, and kinda disgusted.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s the way you were about the officer, the way you boasted about how he had to do whatever you said or he’d be out of a job.”

  “Oh, excuse me for trying to get us out of trouble. Would you prefer I didn’t text my dad and we were still in that cop car on the way to jail?”

  “It’s not that I don’t appreciate your father’s help.”

  “So what’s the damn problem?” Cade demanded.

  “You.” I shook my head at him. “In that one moment, you became every stereotype I’ve ever had of rich, powerful people—everything that disgusts me about privilege.”

  We had reached the fence, so I hoisted myself up and over without his help. When Cade didn’t drop down beside me, I glanced back at him. He stood on the other side of the fence with a strange expression on his face.

  “Cade?” I questioned.

  “Sorry, Prescott. I was momentarily stunned by the use of your claws.” He then clambered over the fence and landed by my side.

  I twisted the hem of my tank top between my fingers. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.”

  With a smirk, Cade replied, “You didn’t hurt my feelings. You just surprised me by being somewhat bitchy with the silent treatment and white privilege judgment.”

  I stared incredulously at him. “Now you’re deflecting and calling me out?”

  “I suppose so, Dr. Phil.”

  “Unbelievable.” I threw my hand up and motioned beyond the fence. “How you were back there? It’s not the Cade I’ve come to know over the past few weeks. It’s not a Cade I would ever like to be around, and it’s certainly not the Cade I like as a person and a friend.

  Cade’s eyes widened at my tirade. “Wow, Prescott. You’ve left me kinda speechless here.”

  “That has to be a first.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, it probably is.”

  “So what do you have to say for yourself?”

  “Is this where you want me to say I’m sorry or something like that?”

  I shook my head at him. “You are a real piece of work.” When he opened his mouth to protest, I added, “And I do not mean that in a good way.” I then started stomping through the grass, taking giant steps like I was an irate toddler.

  It didn’t take long for Cade to catch up with me. For a few moments, he walked and I stomped along in silence. “Maybe we should go talk to Dr. Paulson on Monday and tell her we can’t work together,” I suggested.

  Cade skidded to a stop, kicking up a cloud of dirt. “Why the fuck would we want to do that?”

  I rubbed my hands over my eyes. “I don’t know. I’m just frustrated with you right now.”

  “Look, I can say I’m sorry.”

  “No, Cade. I don’t want you to say you’re sorry unless you actually feel that emotion and actually give a shit about how I feel.”

  “But I do give a shit, Prescott.”

  I swept my hands to my hips. “Do you truly mean that, or are you just saying it so I won’t go to Paulson?”

  A low growl came from Cade’s throat. “Dammit, Prescott. Why do you have to bust my balls so hard?”

  “That’s not the answer I was looking for.”

  “Yes. I’m sorry. Really fucking sorry.”

  “Even about the way you treated that police officer?”

  “He was a total douchebag,” Cade protested.

  “While he could have gone a little easier on us, you didn’t help matters with the way you treated him at first.”

  “Fine, fine. Whatever. I’m sorry for being a prick to Officer Douchebag, even though he kinda deserved it.”

  I shook my head but grinned in spite of myself. I guess it was going to take baby steps with Cade, and I couldn’t expect too much of him too soon. I was just glad I had managed to get through to him.

  As we started through the grass, Cade asked, “You know what bothered me the most?”

  “Being in the back of a police car, or having a random stranger see you naked?”

  Cade laughed. “No. Neither of those.”

  “Then what?”

  “The fact that you were disappointed in me.”

  The fact that I was disappointed in him? Surely he can’t be serious. I stared at Cade’s face and prepared to laugh at his teasing expression, but what I saw stopped me. He looked…serious…solemn, almost.

  I swallowed hard. “You really cared about that?”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re one of the most decent people I know, Prescott. You’re also one of the nicest and kindest. I didn’t like the thought of not having someone like you in my corner.” He cut his eyes over to me. “You ever see that Jack Nicholson movie where he tells Helen Hunt that she makes him want to be a better man?”

  “As Good As It Gets?”

  “That one.” Cade grinned. “That’s kinda like how I feel about you, so I didn’t like pissing you off.”

  “Wow,” I murmured.

  “Don’t tell me you’re speechless now.”

  “Yeah, I am.”

  “Then we’re 1-1 today, huh?”

  “That’s a sports reference, right?”

  Cade laughed. “Yeah, it is.”

  “Yes, we’re even.”

  “But are we good?”

  I glanced over to Cade and his hopeful expression. “We’re good.”

  He gave a satisfied nod of his head. “Cool. Now I have a burning question for you.”

  “What?”

  “How do you plan on explaining what happened to your mom?”

  “She’s at work, remember?”

  “Yeah, well, what about your grandmother?

  I grimaced. While Nana probably wouldn’t be too mad at me, she would spill the beans to my mom. After the day I’d had, I really didn’t want to hear a lecture from her about getting in trouble because Cade was a bad influence. “Maybe I don’t have to explain.”

  Cade’s jaw dropped to his chest. “Holy shit, Prescott. I really am a bad influence if you’re going to lie to your mother.”

  “Theoretically, is it really lying when you just don’t admit what happened? I mean, if Nana asks me where we were, I can honestly say I was showing you around the farm. If she asks how I got wet, I can admit that we took a dip in Mr. Frost’s pond. She can’t yell at me too much since my mom was always getting caught when she was a teenager. Unless she point blank comes out and asks, ‘Avery, were you almost arrested this afternoon?’, then I’m not technically lying.”

  “I see you’re already thinking like a legal eagle.”

  “I guess I am.”

  We then reached the thresher. “Do you want to drive
again?” I asked Cade as we climbed inside.

  “No. I think I’m good. I’ll let you handle it this time.”

  “Okay.”

  As I cranked it up and we started back toward the barn, Cade couldn’t help himself. He started belting more of Kenny Chesney’s “She Thinks My Tractor’s Sexy”. I ducked my head and grinned not because the song was embarrassing, but because Cade couldn’t sing. I’d finally found something he wasn’t good at.

  AVERY

  Two Months Later

  “In conclusion, it could be said that Shakespeare’s true gift to the literary world is not just the beautiful figurative language of his poetry and prose, but furthermore, it is his uncanny ability to examine the full range of the human psyche. This is especially true when examining the repercussions of love.”

  Cade grinned. “And to quote the J. Geils Band, ‘Love stinks.’”

  Applause rang around us along with some whistles and catcalls, which were of course directed at Cade. When I dared to look at Dr. Paulson, she smiled. “Excellent job defending your argument, Miss Prescott and Mr. Hall. That was the finest presentation on anti-love in Shakespeare’s works I’ve seen in several years. You certainly earned your A-plus.”

  “Heck yeah!” Cade exclaimed while throwing up a hand for me to high-five him. I couldn’t help grinning when my hand slapped against his.

  After eyeing the clock above the whiteboard, Dr. Paulson rose out of her chair to address us. “Thank you all for your presentations. I will have your research papers graded upon your return. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving break. Class dismissed.”

  As Cade and I started packing up our presentation materials, a pang of sadness and regret entered my chest. Now that the project and paper were over, there wouldn’t be a reason for Cade and me to hang out any more. He would go back to his world with the A-crowd, and I would leave Harlington for an entirely different universe at Emory.

  Every day I waged a silent war within myself over the growing feelings I had for him. Getting to see the real Cade, not the stereotype I had of him, had been both a blessing and a curse. The tiny little flame I’d felt those first few times we’d been alone together had now grown into an inferno that engulfed me. The day he had come to the farm had changed everything.

  Cade interrupted my thoughts by exhaling an exaggerated sigh of bliss. “Ah, nine whole days without school.”

  “What are you doing for the break?” I asked.

  Cade shrugged. “Hanging out around here, I guess.”

  “You’re not going home?”

  “Maybe for a few days. My parents are off on their usual Caribbean cruise.”

  “Your parents go away for Thanksgiving?”

  “It’s never really been a big holiday for us.”

  My heart ached for him. Although he was putting on a good front, I could tell that deep down it bothered him. “Wow, it’s hard for me to even imagine not celebrating Thanksgiving.”

  With a smirk, Cade said, “Let me guess: you guys have a huge meal that your Grammy cooks, and after you eat, everyone sits around the table and tells something they’re thankful for.”

  I playfully smacked his arm. “No, smarty-pants, we don’t.

  “Then what do you do?”

  “Actually, my mom and I help Grammy do the cooking, along with my Aunt Lily and your favorite, Mae. And no, we don’t go around the table saying something we’re thankful for. It’s a madhouse considering my mom’s brothers bring their families. There was even a brawl one year when Mae’s flavor of the month got in an argument with my mom’s brother, Chris, during one of the bowl games.” I gave him a pointed look. “Trust me, it isn’t some Norman Rockwell painting like you’re alluding to.”

  “I’m shocked, Prescott.”

  “I’m so sorry to disappoint you.”

  He laughed as we walked through the classroom door. “Well, see ya after the break.”

  “Yeah. See you.”

  As Cade started down the hall, a light bulb went off in my head. Instead of pausing to maybe think the idea through, I blurted out, “Cade?

  He turned around and cocked his brows at me. “Yeah?”

  My heart thundered like a brass band as I power walked to catch up to him. “If you’re just going to be hanging around Harlington, why don’t you come have dinner at my house?”

  Cade blinked a few times. “You’re asking me to have Thanksgiving dinner with your family?”

  His disbelief at my invitation made me feel like I’d made some huge mistake by asking him. “Sure. Why not? We’ll have plenty of food since Grammy always cooks enough for a small country.”

  Cade’s hand reached behind his head to scratch the hair at the base of his neck. It was a little thing he did whenever he was debating something—one of the many personality quirks I’d picked up on during all the time we’d spent together. “What about your mom? No offense, but she wasn’t exactly welcoming when I met her before.”

  His hesitation was understandable. She had lectured me over and over again about the time I was spending with Cade. Whenever he stopped by Rose’s Garden to work on our project, she had been icily polite to the point that Cade could’ve gotten frostbite. She probably wouldn’t have spoken to him at all if we hadn’t been in public. My mom wasn’t someone who was quick to anger or hold a grudge, but with Cade, she was in extreme overprotective mother mode.

  “She won’t mind.” When he gave me a pointed look, I held up my hands. “I’ll talk to her and make it where she won’t mind. I swear.”

  “That should be a hell of a conversation.”

  “Oh whatever.”

  “Do you guys have cornbread dressing or stuffing?”

  His question momentarily took me off guard. “We’re Southern, so it’s always cornbread dressing,” I replied.

  Cade smiled. “I love cornbread dressing.”

  “Then you’ll come and eat some?”

  He remained lost in thought for a few seconds more before he finally nodded. “Yeah, why the hell not.”

  “Great. We eat at noon, and then everyone congregates around the TV to watch football games.”

  Cade’s eyes widened. “Whoa, you actually watch football?”

  I laughed. “Okay, so I usually sneak off somewhere and read.”

  “I thought as much.”

  “Maybe this year I’ll stick around and watch it.”

  Cade’s brows shot up. “You’d do that for me?”

  I’d do anything for you. “Sure. Of course.”

  “Thanks, Prescott. It means a lot that you’d put yourself through football viewing hell just for me.”

  Prescott. He managed to call every other girl in school by her first name, but for some reason, he didn’t with me. Of course, there was a small part of me that enjoyed it. It made me feel set apart from the others somehow, like I was special.

  With a grin, I replied, “You’re welcome.”

  After placing both of his hands on my shoulders, he bent his head and placed a lingering kiss on my cheek. His lips felt like fire against my skin, and I fought to breathe. I ended up huffing out a few breaths, and it felt like I was panting. I wanted nothing more than to press myself against him and feel the strength of his arms around me.

  When Cade pulled away, the sincere look in his eyes made me feel horrible for getting so worked up about a simple gesture of kindness. Get a grip, Avery, the guy was just thanking you for inviting him to Thanksgiving, not offering to throw you on the floor and make mad, passionate love to you.

  “Thanks, Prescott. This means a lot.”

  It took me a moment to find my voice. “You’re welcome.”

  “See you next Thursday.”

  “See you then.”

  CADE

  I stood in the middle of the floral section of Publix, trying desperately to pick out a bouquet of flowers for Avery. Well, they weren’t just for her; they were for her family, to say thank you for hosting me for lunch. It was the least I could do since she wouldn’t
let me buy any food, and at eighteen, I couldn’t buy a bottle of wine. Sure, I could’ve swiped one from my parents’ wine cellar, but I would have come off totally wrong. After Rose’s icy reception of me, the last thing I needed was to give her any more ammunition. I wanted Rose to actually like me and not just tolerate me because Avery had smoothed over her ruffled feathers. Of course, I didn’t know how a bouquet of flowers was going to do that, but I was going to try.

  “How about this one?” the woman behind the counter asked.

  I grunted. “Don’t you have anything better?”

  She gave me a wounded look like I had personally insulted her, rather than her flowers. I quickly threw up my hand in apology. “I’m sorry, ma’am. It’s just I need something out-of-this-world beautiful and impressive that shows I’m a nice and thoughtful guy, and something that doesn’t scream cheap.”

  “I could put a few bouquets together, I suppose. Add in some roses.”

  “Yeah. That would be great.”

  She eyed me curiously before turning back to the cooler full of flowers. “It must be some fancy dinner you’re going to,” she called over her shoulder.

  “Not exactly.”

  She paused going through flowers to turn and look at me. “Let me guess: you’re meeting your girlfriend’s parents for the first time, and you want to impress them while at the same time impressing her.”

  “Uh, no. She’s not my girlfriend. Just a friend.”

  “Mmmhmm,” was the woman’s reply.

  I decided then it was best to screw around on my phone until she was finished, that way she wouldn’t feel like making any more commentary about my alleged relationship with Avery. The truth was I was fucking confused about what was going on between us.

  If you’d asked me two months before, I would have said we were absolutely nothing, but then I’d gotten to know her so much better. I wasn’t just talking about seeing her practically naked that day we went swimming. Avery wasn’t your typical nerdy girl. For starters, she had a rocking hot body, but even though she was gorgeous, it was her personality that really made her attractive. She could give it back to me as good as I gave it, which wasn’t something that usually happened in my harem of adoring women.