by Shey Stahl
My eyes follow hers to Joel sitting on the dock, drinking with Danny. They’re sitting on the edge, throwing a line in the water with empty cans surrounding them. The cans are a product of a lot of fishing, not a lot of catching, and a lot of bullshit between two friends.
Part of me wants to turn around and leave because I know where tonight’s going when I see Violet’s not with Joel. He’ll want to fuck me because his precious girl’s busy. She’s still a virgin too, from what I hear, and he keeps her that way. A prize I guess but a little too much like Elvis and Priscilla if you ask me. Internally, I’m picturing Joel staring at her, petting her hair and in his best Gollum voice, whispering, “My precious.”
If only Violet knew what he was doing to her. He’s destroying her because if she ever finds out he’s been with just about every chick here, her world will be shattered. I should know, I was her once. But not anymore. I’m the complete opposite now, someone who can never go back to that “good girl” status, thanks to guys like Joel who played my weakness.
Making our way toward the River, Haylee and I join the guys on the dock—for reasons I’m not sure—other than a direct result of our complete boredom. Anyone who’s from a small town will probably agree with me on this one. You’ll do just about anything for entertainment and a night out.
Haylee snorts when Joel winks at her, and then me. Idiot. “Where’s Virgin Violet tonight, Joel?” Haylee asks, cracking open a beer.
Joel squeezes the tension out of the back of his neck, then takes a drink of his beer, chasing it with a shot of whiskey. “Busy.”
Haylee and I both laugh, but I keep my distance from him, seated on the very edge of the dock near Danny.
To think Joel would actually listen and leave me alone tonight is wishful thinking on my part. It takes him a six-pack and two hours until he’s begging to take me upstairs to his room.
“Dude, no. You’re with Violet. Not happening.” I shove him away.
He tries to close the distance between us again, but stops when I hold up my palm. He sways to the left, then right, his voice low and firm. “Never stopped you before. The Maesyn I know puts out whenever I want.”
“You’ve never known the real Maesyn, ya shithead.”
I make my way to the bonfire up the river near the edge of the property. I’m surprised to see Grayer there with what looks to be a few friends he hasn’t seen in a while. There isn’t shit to do in this town so it’s not all that surprising to see him here—it’s the same people who congregate at these gatherings.
And to be honest, it’s frustrating seeing him after our encounter earlier.
I take a seat in a white plastic chair near the trees. On one side of the fire, there’s Joel and he’s sulking that I won’t fuck him tonight. On the other side, Grayer and his buddies. He’s not even acting like I’m here, but he knows I am because I see the way his eyes shift to mine when he thinks no one is looking. Whether he knows it or not.
There’s a girl about the same height as him standing next to him. I’m assuming it’s his sister, Dani, by the way she has her arms wrapped around him. I had an elective class with her once. She’s a sophomore and still in school here.
“You’re my favorite brother, Grayer,” Dani says, clinging to his side.
“You say that to all of us,” he replies, laughing as he hugs her to his side. There’s a bond there that even a four-year absence hasn’t broken.
“I know.” Dani smiles, blue eyes that match her brother’s pleading with him. “But this time I mean it.”
“Uh-huh.” Grayer removes his keys from his pocket and holds them high above her head with a smile. “Sure ya do.”
He makes her jump a few times to reach them, but eventually hands them to her. She takes them, sticks her tongue out at him and leaves.
Across the fire, his eyes shift to mine. The warmth envelopes me, the questions so obvious even when I’m not looking. When I do sneak a peek at his cobalt blues, they dip to the ground never giving me the sight I crave. He’s refusing to give me anything and it’s frustrating as hell.
Annoyed, I sit cross-legged, cracking the top to my third beer. Haylee’s in the distance in search of more Southern Comfort. Grayer’s friend beside him points to me, more than likely saying something vulgar. I can already guess what he’s saying.
“That one puts out.”
“She’s a slut.”
Or whatever else boys say to one another. Grayer discards whatever it is and turns away, giving me a view of his back. The fact that he turned his back on me upsets me a little more than it should.
Twenty minutes later and another few beers, Dani’s back and hands Grayer his keys.
“Took you long enough,” he mumbles, ripping his keys from her hand.
She glares, flipping him off as she walks away.
In that twenty minutes Dani was gone, I’ve stayed exactly where I was. I might not move the rest of the night.
My eyes follow Dani as she approaches me, walking around the fire and to my left.
Shit. Fuck. She’s coming over here? What should I say?
Act cool.
Simple, yet probably incredibly impossible for me tonight. I have been gawking at her brother all night.
Dani Easton and I have had a couple classes together—she’s the only Easton kid left around these parts. She keeps to herself for the most part and I can’t say I’ve ever had any interactions with her. Until now. She hangs out with Kade’s younger sister, Kat, most of the time. I guess that makes sense. Them being family.
She saw me watching Grayer from across the fire, and I think I know what she’s going to ask me.
“Why are you staring at my brother?” She sits down in the empty chair next to me. She’s waiting for an answer.
“I’m transparent.” I cross my legs leaning away from her, but I give her my attention with a twist of my head in her direction. And the only reason I do is because she’s his sister and I kinda want to hear what she has to say.
Dani looks at me, her eyes assessing and already judging. “I’m only telling you this because it’s for your own good. Don’t waste your time.”
She’s probably right about it, but it’s not going to stop me, regardless of her warning.
I give her a nod, waiting for the catch as to why. I know it’s coming. “You remember Selena Thomas, right?”
I nod, again, remembering the shy girl from my freshman English class who left town abruptly right after the Easton brothers did.
Dani sighs, taking a drink from the red plastic cup in her hands. “Well, she was raped when she was sixteen. She blamed it on Reid and Grayer who were eighteen and twenty-one at the time. She said they both raped her one night at a party. Never mind neither were in town that night, but she had her friends lie that they saw them and they were charged with statutory rape. My brothers have always been trouble. Especially Grayer. But they’d never do something like that. Ever. That year was the first year Grayer was riding as a pro and Reid was riding for the championship. It was right before World Finals and Reid lost his championship and was suspended from competition for six months. Same with Grayer. Then the little hooker came out and said she lied, and then left town, but it was too late at that point. The damage was already done.”
It takes me a moment to process everything she’d told me in what appears to be a vomit of words. I can’t believe someone would blame a crime like rape on someone else just because they didn’t want to confess who did it.
My eyes drift to Grayer, his back still to me. No wonder my age is a problem for him.
“Wow, that sucks.” I know, not the best choice of words, but I wasn’t sure what else to say.
Dani gives me a look, one that has me regretting my words. My eyes flicker from her to the setting sun over her shoulder. The light reflects off her golden hair. She snorts. “That’s putting it lightly.”
“True.” When I take a drink of my beer, my hand trembles. “Why is he back now?”
“O
ur dad died last month. Grayer came back to take care of selling the ranch. Apparently, Stanton owed your dad, so Grayer’s working it off for him. He leaves Wednesday.” She gives me a warning glance, judging me. “I know the way you are.” Her eyes are unkind, her smile bitter, pained, and she blinks quick. “Hell, everyone knows the way you are. He doesn’t need that bullshit in his life.”
What a brat!
Look at her, thinking she knows anything about me. I want to be mad, but sadly, she is right on some level. “You don’t know anything about me,” I mumble, shaking my head.
What right does she have to talk about me like that?
“We’ll see about that.” And then Dani gets up and leaves, never looking back at me as she heads inside the house.
Five days. That’s all I have with him and I know this bull rider will be gone forever. I’m not even sure why I’m so captivated by him. Just that I am and it’s controlling me.
My eyes burn from the fire. Standing, I make my way to the edge of the river where the pebble rocks and gritty sand meet the shore. Over my shoulder, I catch a glimpse of Grayer refilling his beer at the keg. I’m drawn to him in ways I shouldn’t be. I wonder what his buddy said about me, or if Dani told him I’m a slut and sleep around. After last night, he probably thinks I am. I had no idea he’d been through something like that and I want to apologize for lying to him, but he doesn’t want anything to do with me, let alone an apology.
Tears surface, the burn of the smoke too much even by the river. I look over my shoulder at Grayer. He’s staring at me. His face tightens, his gaze not meeting mine again. He sits down in a chair beside the fire now, rubbing the scruff on his face. He’s perfection and I can’t get him out of my head.
When a bull rider dismounts from or is bucked off a bull, the bull sometimes goes after the rider or the bullfighter and attempts to hook the human target with his horns. This is known as being "hooked."
Leave her alone. Don’t even look her way.
Ignore her. Ignore her tears. Ignore what Dani said and the vulgar remarks about her.
She’s not my problem. But I do stare, and I can’t stop. Her chest rises rapidly, the color in her cheeks flaming. My head spins with heat and pure need.
Fuck, I want her.
“She’s a slut, dude.” That’s what Dani said.
I close my eyes, trying to hold on to any patience I have left. I bring the bottle to my lips. Maybe then it’ll keep me from reacting.
“She’s got a great ass.” That’s what some dude said. Surprisingly, I didn’t hit him. Wanted to, but I restrained myself.
“I’ve hit it a few times.” That guy, the one who said that, he now has a broken nose, my restraint wavered, but that’s what he said.
Leave her alone, I warn myself, again. Sure, I tell myself that, but I rarely listen. It is in fact this image of those legs, that ass, the quick-to-pink cheeks, her long blonde hair begging to be wrapped around my fist that got me into trouble in the first place. I mentally kick myself for ever looking her way.
Stupid fuck. I realize I need to get laid. This age legal shit is turning out to be a burden. Would it really be that bad if I fucked her?
I think about it. You know I do.
And then I remember how it felt when the judge handed down the “statutory rape” charge and that the sharp, cold, terrifying accusation of something I didn’t do isn’t worth it. Hell yes, it’s a big deal. She’s off limits. Northing’s worth losing the championship over.
I can’t risk it. Even if it means I’ll be jerking off to the image before me for the next week. I feel bad for her, too. I know what it’s like for people to have a predetermined opinion of you once you’re labeled with something you didn’t do.
“Stop looking at her. You have a kid.”
I glare at my little sister and rip the drink from her hand. “So what? Doesn’t mean I can’t look.” Or stare.
“Yes, it does, old man. Besides, she’s a slut.”
Anger curls inside me. “How do you know?”
“Joel fucks around with her. Word is Kade does too. And half the senior class.”
My entire body tightens. The thought of any man touching her body besides me sends a surge of anger through my blood.
I snap my eyes to Joel Peterson. Same douche who’d been giving Maesyn shit last night. He’s staring at her. His cagey look on his face pricks at my skin. He’s up to something and I don’t know what, but it better not have anything to do with Maesyn or he’s going to know what a wired-shut jaw feels like.
PBR judges, who determine a rider's score based upon his and the bull's performances, are hired based on strict and extensive qualifications maintained by the PBR Board of Directors and members. PBR management has created the position of Judging Administrator. This person is responsible for coordinating judging staff for all PBR events and monitoring the accuracy and professionalism of all officials. Each 25th PBR: Unleash the Beast event now employs four judges. Each judge has 50 points to distribute for each ride (25 points for the bull, and 25 points for the rider.) The Total from each of these judges is added together to get the ride's total score. Four judges also officiate the PBR 25th: Unleash the Beast World Finals where quarter points are allowed by the event judges.
People judge you based on the way you dress, look, the things you say, and before you know it, you have a label. A predetermined identification of who others think you are, rather than what’s inside. It happens to girls all the time.
Boys . . . they get an image. A persona. Hell, some getting a fucking king’s crown and throne. Something they can often hide behind their true identity. Not all of them, but guys like Joel, he gets to be who he wants.
Grayer, he’s like me. Predetermined.
“Hey, Maesyn.” A guy bumps my shoulder, winking. Then he nods between my legs, like I’m just going to mount him right here.
I don’t know him, and don’t want to. I do know I went to high school with him, but his name is about as weak as his attempt to get me to talk to him.
Haylee wraps her arm around my shoulder. “Get lost, dude.” She kisses my cheek. “She’s mine.”
We laugh as he leaves, shaking his head with a smirk. At least he got the hint.
“You’re gonna start a rumor we’re lesbians now.”
Haylee shrugs, reaching for her cigarettes beside her. “So be it.” She pauses, laughs, then lights it, inhaling, then blowing out clouds of white smoke through her nose. “These dudes have no class.”
Speaking of no class, I think about what she said earlier about Tucker. “Did you break it off with Tucker?”
She shakes her head, taking another drag before passing it to me. “Not yet, but I also haven’t heard from him today.”
Nodding, I stare off into the distance, trying to ignore Joel approaching us. I can smell him twenty feet away by the reek of Copenhagen and stale beer. He’s stopped by Danny, but I know it’s only a temporary distraction. He’ll find me again. He always does.
There’s something about the sunsets here in Washington, much like the sunrises. The sky’s painted purple and pink, pretty colors that soften my heart and soul. Colors that make me sigh and look up at the sky and wonder what could be. There’s more to life than this, isn’t there? I bet if everyone watched the sunset every night, life on earth would be different. You’d appreciate more.
As the night begins to take over and the moon lights the night, the party’s in full swing, red plastic cups, tailgates, smoked ribs, and six-packs. The lake is alive and savoring the last sliver of light that it can. Night is hanging there, ready to take over, and it’s my favorite time of the day. It’s me. Stuck in between the lightness and darkness, not knowing if it’s the night relieving the day, or the day relinquishing its hold to the night.
My heart aches, beats faster and slower as smoke rises around me. A steady pop and flicker is heard around the bonfire. I know what tonight’s bringing, or I should say what tonight is wanting. It’s beside me, whiske
y breath and a rough touch brought on by liquid courage and pushing me to go upstairs with him.
“Come on, Maesyn. You know you want it.” Joel’s hand presses mine into him, groaning at my touch.
“She said no, Joel,” Haylee reminds him, scowling. Her sunburnt cheeks flame red. “Leave her alone before I toss you in the river.”
He snorts, rolling his eyes. “I’d like to see you try, half-pint.”
It’s true. I doubt Haylee could even shove him off one of us. Believe me, I’ve tried myself and it never works. He takes what he wants despite the word no. Jamie would be so ashamed of him.
I don’t want Joel. I never have. And now more than ever. The reason I don’t now is the fiery presence of the one standing twenty feet away. Grayer’s watching me and this interaction with Joel, and him watching me almost makes me feel dirty, like I shouldn’t be here. I most definitely shouldn’t be letting Joel touch me with Grayer standing so close. It’s sending him a message I don’t want him seeing. Or is it just proving everyone’s theory of me?
Either way, it needs to stop.
My stomach knots when Joel touches me, again, his hands on my thigh. “You owe me,” he says, honestly believing I do.
I hate the response inside me, the one that overwhelms and tells me to run. He doesn’t love me, hell, he doesn’t appreciate me either. He wrapped me in a lie and made me believe being with him was something I had to do because of Jamie. When he died, Joel blamed me and in fact, I blamed myself. Jamie wouldn’t have wrecked his car had he not been driving like a crazy person to my house to explain himself.
“No, I don’t owe you anything, Joel.”
I’ve seen my heartbreak. Mine breaks every day. I’ve seen a love so strong that even a sharp bend in the road can’t shatter it. I don’t have that anymore and I don’t think I can even tell you the meaning of love. I know it’s not a word. It’s a meaning to a decision only your heart can make. I have moments that make me believe loving someone isn’t worth the pain. In my mind no love can survive, but I hold out hope it exists for me.
