Under the Dusty Sky

by Allie Brennan

  The private Gracie that reads poetry, that doesn’t take any shit, and wears beat-up sweatshirts and ponytails. The one that lets loose her accent when she’s pissed and squeals when she’s excited. The one that smiles with every muscle in her face. That Gracie is irresistible.

  I can’t handle that I never know which one I’ll get.

  Gracie leans against the wall next to me, and we look at each other. Half her face is shadowed, but I can see her thinking. It plays across her face until she finally opens her mouth.

  “So are you in a band? Famous?” She grins. Fake, flirty Gracie. I look away.

  “No, I’m not famous. I just play guitar.” It’s a total lie. I mean I’m not in a band. That’s ridiculous. But I’m not exactly unknown. I’m just unknown in Nebraska.

  “Well either way it was really nice what you did for Les. They’ll talk about it for years. Trust me. You’ll be a legend by Monday.” She laughs.

  Looking back at her, I can see every eyelash, long and thick. My eyes run along her cheekbones and down her jaw line before settling on her lips. If I just give her what she wants, this torment could end.

  But I can’t. Like an invisible force is holding me back and I can't figure out why.

  Gracie reaches across me and grabs the edge of my blazer. She spins me so I’m standing right in front of her. Toe to toe. My forearms press flat against the wall on either side of her head. My head tilts down and hers up, and our eyes lock. She pulls on my coat until my body is flush with hers. I can’t help but notice we line up in all the right places.

  Wow, she is good.

  “Graceland.” I try to sound stern, but I’m not sure how it comes out. I can feel her breathing. It’s fast. Her hands slide into my blazer and clasp around my back.

  “Bentley.” She mocks. She isn’t going for a kiss. She wants me to make the first move. I remember what Archer said about her having a plan for me. A plan that doesn’t involve knowing anything about me but my body pressed against hers.

  I shut down.

  “I can’t.” The words are hard to choke out, but I pull away from her. As I walk from the stable, I take a huge breath and run my hands roughly through my hair. I can’t look back. It’ll be a disaster if I do.

  CHAPTER 12

  Graceland

  I’m not mad. I’m shocked. Not because he left me standing here heated from head to toe, vibrating with a need for him that goes beyond what I had planned, or the utter confusion about why he just shut down like that. He was clearly into it five minutes ago.

  What shocks me are the tears that float around in my eyes, refusing to spill out. I’ve never cried over a guy. Never. I’ve never let a guy get under my skin like this.

  So why do I feel like, when he walked away from me, he took some of my heart with him?

  Taking a couple deep breaths before I push off the wall, I head back to the arena. Bentley’s gone. Hunter and Emma are gone. Asher and Lacy are gone, and I regret giving them the go ahead. I mean they could have waited a day. Kelsey and Brandon are gone, and I do not want to be alone with Dermott right now. Normally, I’d be all over D, but as I pass him and he smiles, I can only think of Ben.

  I find my dad, who’s still talking to the librarian.

  “Can we go, Dad?” I don’t even try to mask my tone. He frowns.

  “You okay, Bug?”

  I nod. “Just tired. All the dancing.”

  “Hi Graceland. It’s so nice to see you outside of school like this,” Ms. Trimble says, and I force a smile. I see her every year at this. But whatever. I’m too frustrated to be a smart ass.

  “You too.” It comes out short, and Dad’s frown deepens. “I’ll be waiting in the truck.”

  I lay across the bench seat and watch the stars out the window until I fade into a dreamless sleep, barely noticing when Dad pulls me out and puts me in the back with Asher, I think, who brushes my hair off my face and lets me use his lap and jacket for a pillow.

  I hate how fast Asher is taking over Hunter’s role as responsible big brother. I hate how fast things are changing. But right now, everything is just too fuzzy. Another jacket is thrown over my body, and I curl into Asher as the truck begins to move.

  ***

  When I wake up, it’s still dark but I’m in my room. Under my covers with my dress still on. I pull it over my head and throw it across the room. Little good it did me.

  ***

  The boys let me sleep in Sunday morning, and when I wake up to the sun blazing through my window, my heart almost crawls out of my mouth. I sit straight up with that feeling that I’ve missed the bus for school. I scramble out of bed and throw on shorts and a tank over the underwear I slept in. My bare feet slap loudly on the wooden stairs as I fly down them. I push into a full run and stop dead when I enter the kitchen and there are five men and Emma sitting around our huge table.

  “What’s the hurry, Bug?” Daddy laughs.

  “Why didn’t anyone wake me up? Why didn’t my alarm go off?” And by alarm I mostly mean the twins banging on my door until I get up.

  “We thought we’d let you sleep in. We each did a chore for you. I thought it might be nice for you to get a vacation, so you are excused from chores until your birthday. I suggest you make the most of it. It’s only because this is a special birthday, and you should have fun with your friends and hang out...or whatever it is you girls do,” Daddy says, and I throw my arms around him before leaning forward and stealing a strip of bacon off his plate.

  “Just so ya know, this was not my idea.” Asher shoves a fork full of eggs into his mouth. The kind caring Asher from last night is gone, and this is the guy I’m used to.

  “I love you, too, brother. So, where did you disappear to last night with my best friend, because that wasn’t my idea.” I stick out my tongue at him. I know the two things have no direct connection but watching his face get red is worth it.

  “I, we, she—” Asher stutters as Dad’s eyes narrow in on him. Dad’s hard on my brothers about treatment of women and how, if they ever knock up some girl, they’ll be paying out the nose in time and money for it. But Daddy’s pretty young, so I kind of suspect that’s how Hunter happened.

  “Uh, uh, uh…shut up.” I mock Asher.

  “Graceland!” Hunter’s the one who speaks this time. Emma laughs and takes Bentley’s arm with the hand that isn’t planted on Hunter.

  “You get used to it.” She winks at him, and he smiles, taking a sip of his coffee.

  I fill my plate and hop up onto the counter, as all the chairs are taken. I curl my legs up and hold my plate while shoveling food into my mouth. I notice Bentley watching me.

  “What?” I say, mouth full. I’m still pissed at him, and it doesn’t help when he laughs at me.

  “You up for working on the car today? The sooner we get it fixed, the sooner you can be driving.” He has on his neutral face, and I hate it more and more every time I see it. I can’t read it. I can’t tell if he just wants to get it done so he doesn’t have to spend time with me or if he still wants to help me. Genuinely. Post almost-kiss.

  Oh my god, am I analyzing?

  I push every feeling I have aside and shrug my shoulders. “Sure, why not.”

  Jumping off the counter, I give him one more quick, close-mouthed smile and head back to my room.

  This will give me a chance to do one of two things.

  Get my plan back on track and get my perfect memory.

  Or get back that piece of my heart he walked away with last night.

  CHAPTER 13

  Graceland

  I wear surf shorts that go just to my knees hanging low on my hips and a shirt small enough to be considered a sports bra, but who’s considering? My hair’s pulled up into a messy bun, and I head out to meet Ben at my car. My isolated car, parked way out behind the stables. My dad’s quad is gone, and I assume Bentley’s there already so I slip on sandals and grab the keys for the other machine.

  It’s an amazing day, but I can’t tel
l if it’s any different than any other day or I’m just happy I’m off the hook for chores. Ten days of no chores. Either way, I enjoy the warm wind on my face as I make my way to the horse stable. I turn into the lane, steering toward the other quad parked along the fence. I pull up and jump off, rounding the corner of the barn to say hi to Belle when I find Bentley in the exact same spot I first met him two weeks ago.

  His back is to me, and it doesn’t seem like he knows I’m here. Which is crazy because those quads are stupid loud.

  “I’m not coming home, Sash. I don’t know why she thinks it makes a difference if you call or her. Although I definitely like you better right now, which is saying something.” Ben’s voice is loud and irritated, like the last time I caught him on the phone.

  “No,” he continues. “No. Tell her to deal with it. It’s not my problem he left it to me. I didn’t want it. I don’t want it. I will never want it.”

  I suddenly feel uncomfortable, like I’m really not supposed to hear this. I take a step back when he turns and sees me. He doesn’t flinch. He must have heard me. He holds up a finger and turns away.

  “Sash, I love you. Really I do, but let it go okay? I just can’t. I can’t.”

  His last words burn through my chest as the memory of him walking away take over. Saying I can’t, then leaving. The burn spreads through me, and I do turn and walk away. I’m sitting on the quad just about to start it when I hear footsteps, and he takes ahold of my elbow.

  “Gracie? Where are you going?” His frown burns into me. Burns me. Everything about him burns me. I can’t stop it, and no matter what I do it just keeps burning.

  “Why am I not good enough for you?” I blurt out. I did not mean to say that. I don’t know where it came from but it’s out, and by the look on his face, he definitely heard me.

  His eyes soften, and his eyebrows pull together in concern mixed with confusion.

  “What? Why would you think that?”

  I look down into my lap. I said it. I’m going to have to explain it, but the problem is I don’t even know how to explain it to myself.

  “You wouldn’t kiss me.” I don’t look up to gauge his reaction, but I see his feet. He steps closer to me and takes my hands. They’re rough, but soft. Smooth and calloused. Warm.

  “Look at me.”

  Slowly I lift my head. I’m embarrassed, which is another new thing for me. I don’t get thrown off my game. Bentley smiles that illegal smile of his, and I can’t help but return it.

  “Don’t ever think that, Gracie. Just because I didn’t kiss you, doesn’t mean I didn’t want to.” Ben drops my hands and cups my cheeks. My whole body sparks to life, everything running at top speed.

  “Then do it now. Kiss me now,” I say.

  He laughs, lightly running his thumb over my bottom lip. By the way my limbs go numb, I'm glad I'm already sitting down. He leans in until our noses are almost touching, and like last night I am super aware of him, of his breathing, the way his eyes move over me, every cell of his skin touching mine. He tilts my head just a little and kisses the tip of my nose. It’s so soft I barely feel it. Then he looks me in the eye and smiles.

  “No, Gracie.”

  My mouth drops open, but before I can protest, or pout, or demand, he presses my jaw shut with his thumbs.

  “Not yet. I barely know you. I need to know you first,” he continues.

  I glare now. I can feel my energy darken. “You can’t tell me that you haven’t been to a party or something in L.A. and slept with some chick the first day you met her.”

  Bentley laughs hard. His hands drop from my face, and he steps back, “You’re a piece of work, Graceland Marie Holloway. And we’re not talking about some chick in L.A. We’re talking about you.”

  My mouth’s already open to make some rude comment, but it shuts immediately. I’ve got nothing. No matter what I say, I’m screwed. If I agree with him that I’m different then he wins, I lose. If I disagree, I’m basically insulting myself.

  I can’t stop a laugh. I’ve never been checkmated before.

  “As are you, Bentley I-don’t-know-your-middle-name McKinna. Well, I guess we have a car to fix, hey?”

  I push myself off the quad and fall in step with Ben as we make our way to my car behind the stable. Bentley looks at me a couple times then smiles down at his feet.

  “It’s Blackmoore.”

  “Huh?” I ask.

  “My middle name. It’s Blackmoore. It’s my mom’s maiden name. My mother was pretentious. Is pretentious. She thinks she’s British Royalty or something.”

  I laugh then say, “Elvis.”

  It’s his turn to say, “Huh?”

  “My mother was in love with Elvis. She named me after a house.”

  Ben throws his arm across my shoulders and laughs with me.

  “See, I know you better already.”

  He winks at me, and I curse my heart for fluttering.

  ***

  I do not curse the fact that I get to work on a car with him as I watch him bent over the hood of my old two-door Chevy.

  “So how do you know so much about cars?” I ask, trying to remember all the stuff he rambled off to me when he first lifted the hood. I lean against the car and put my foot on the bumper.

  “My dad collected them. We have maybe fifteen of them still, and a buddy of mine likes to work on them so I let him.”

  “Fifteen cars?” I’m momentarily astonished until I remember how many cars, trucks, tractors and farm machinery we have around here.

  “Yeah, my family has money. It’s part of the reason my mother thinks she’s royalty.” Ben laughs and hands me a wrench without looking at me.

  “My dad would kill me if I let anyone touch his tractors. How did you get your dad to let a buddy work on his cars?”

  Bentley looks at me sideways, still hunched over the engine. His gaze is distant while he thinks about something. Straightening up, he spins and leans against the car next to me.

  “My dad died. Six years ago.”

  I lace my fingers together in my lap and shift.

  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  Bentley shrugs and wipes his hands on his torn jeans. “It was six years ago.”

  He’s back to his neutral gaze, and it pisses me off. How can he say something like that?

  “My mom left me thirteen years ago, and I don’t even remember it. Still, I couldn’t just shrug about it like that.”

  Eyebrows low and lips pressed together, he shifts to face me again.

  “I miss my dad, everyday, but he didn’t leave us. He was taken from us. Believe me, if you’d have seen him in those last few months you’d understand how I look at it.”

  I put my hands back in my lap.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to...”

  Ben shrugs again and goes back to the engine. “It’s cool. I’d be pretty bitter if I were you, too. Don’t worry about it.”

  I let it go. We’re skirting too close to emotional connection territory. If he wants to know me better, fine, but I’m not going to fall in love with him or anything.

  “So what’s this thing again?” I ask, and he shakes his head.

  “A dipstick. To check the oil. Oil is very important, Gracie.” He’s smirking, and I punch his shoulder.

  “I don’t care about any of it. The sooner you come to terms with that, the smoother this will go. Just tell me what I need to know so that I don’t kill it again.”

  “Fine, but you should care more. This is a decent car, and if you take care of it, it could last damn near forever.”

  “Nothing lasts forever.” It’s a reaction. I don’t mean to say it, but that filter thing that makes normal people stop talking doesn’t exist in me. I was born without it.

  “You’re so much fun to be around, you know that? Your optimism is contagious.”

  His grin turns into a laugh, and I push his chest. Grabbing my wrists, he gets this goofy dramatic look and sinks to his knees, still holding my wrists.

&
nbsp; “The world shall end in a reign of fire. Burning all we love to assimilated, indistinguishable ash. But love isn’t real, and the world is shit. So maybe we’d be better off.”

  His head hangs, and I can’t see his face, but I can hear the laughter in his mocking tone and his shoulders shake. My lips purse together, and I pull him back up into a standing position.

  “You’re such a loser.”

  He catches my chin between his thumb and index finger and gently shakes my face like I’m a child.

  “But I have fifteen cars. Most people are pretty good at ignoring my loser-ish behavior.” He’s smiling, but his eyes aren’t. It bugs me. I want to know. Why he won’t go home, why he talks about money and cars like it’s no big deal at all. Why he’s so neutral. That’s really the only word I can think of. Indifferent maybe, but mostly neutral.

  “See, isn’t this fun?” Ben tosses a wrench to me, and I catch it.

  “Isn’t what fun?” I look from him to the tool in my hand.

  “This.” He gestures widely. “Being outside, working with our hands, bonding over the engine of a car. Look how much we know about each other already.”

  “So are you going to kiss me now?” I cross my arms.

  “Actually, I kinda feel like I should call you bro.”

  I glare at him. I do not want to be ‘bro’.

  He points to something under the hood of the car, and the corner of his mouth twitches. “Tell you what, if you can get that rusted bolt off with that wrench I just gave you, I’ll gladly kiss you.”

  I tap the wrench on my palm a couple times. I can shovel hay for hours straight, but he doesn’t know that.

  “I’ll accept your challenge,” I say through a smug smile. Stepping up to the engine, he points out which bolt he needs, and I fit the end of the wrench on it. I wiggle it to make sure it’s snug then push back on it just a little.

  “That’s the wrong way.” He laughs, and I glare at him so fiercely he steps back and puts his hands in the air.