Miss Trailerhood

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Miss Trailerhood Page 9

by Carina Taylor


  Dean and Marni climbed in on the other side. He fired it up. Riley had to turn sideways so we could fit. But the old bench seats of the Ford gave plenty of room for five of us as long as Riley halfway sat on my lap. I would've preferred that she sat entirely on my lap, but I settled for being able to lift my arm around behind her head and tuck her in close to me.

  I flipped the back of Wren’s hair. She smacked my hand with a big grin. I'd always wanted to be the older brother. It was refreshing to have someone else smaller than me that I could pick on.

  I’d experienced my fair share of tormenting growing up. Having your sister come pick you up from your date when you were fifteen was the most mortifying experience in the world. Especially since she was only eleven months older than me. I'd have to talk with my parents, figure out why they trusted the welfare of their precious fifteen-year-old son with their irresponsible sixteen-year-old daughter. I probably needed therapy.

  Riley shifted next to me. She tried to remain stiff against my arm. I chuckled and slipped a hand around her waist, tugging her closer to me, pulling her more onto my lap.

  “I’m going to crush you,” she protested.

  “I don't think so,” I replied. “I think one hundred pounds is going to be just fine.”

  She snorted. “Much more than one hundred pounds.”

  “Just relax,” I told her as I brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You won’t flatten me. Quite the contrary.”

  Wren snorted next to me, reminding me that I should watch my mouth. There were children present.

  Dean and Marni started in on a long monologue of the great fun that could be had at the mudding event. They talked about the many wrecks they’d seen and their favorite trucks.

  By the time we pulled up to the big open field, I felt like I knew every little fact about mudding there’d ever been.

  I’d never been before, but several of my friends in high school had been big into it. It was just part of growing up in rural Oregon. Some of your typical redneckery.

  I peeled myself out of the truck and grabbed Riley's hand when she climbed out. It was a drop to the ground that I knew she was capable of, but I was looking for any excuse to hold her hand and touch her.

  I never understood why women were offended when men opened doors or offered to hold their hand. It wasn't that we thought they were incapable; it was that we admired them and wanted any excuse to be close to them and to do something nice for them. Chivalry wasn’t dead for most men.

  If allowed, a man would do just about anything for their significant other, and right now, I felt like Riley was mine.

  “Come on this way,” Wren suggested as if she’d been there a million times. We followed her into the grandstand and found a seat. Marni and Dean ran off to greet their friends—all of whom seemed to wear the correct ratio of plaid and camouflage to go mudding. Riley decided she needed snacks right away. She promised to bring something back for Wren and me then headed for the nearest concession stand.

  Wren waited until Riley made it down to the end of the small bleachers before she turned to me.

  “Do you like her?”

  Taken aback by her direct question, I answered honestly. “Yes, I would think that's obvious.”

  “Well, I know Riley thinks she's the protective one of us. But I'm the mean one between the two of us, and I'm young enough that if I kill someone, I might only go to juvie for a couple years.”

  “Are you threatening me?” I waited for her to crack up laughing.

  Her expression didn’t change. “Yes.”

  I shifted on the uncomfortable bleachers. “Somehow, I believe you’d do it.”

  She smiled. It wasn't a very nice smile. Made me think that this fifteen-year-old might just kill me and bury me out back. “I’ve seen things that you never will.” Her smile dropped.

  “I believe you,” I told her. “Have you talked to Riley about it?”

  She shrugged. “Some. Not much. She’d only beat herself up for it, even though it’s not her fault. She’d probably write out a five-year revenge plan. She didn’t live with Mom very long. I know I'm the stronger of the two of us. She wants to take care of me, so I let her. She loves me.”

  “I don't know what you saw, what you experienced, what kind of growing up you had, but you've got the best person in your court now. Riley would do anything for you.”

  “I know.” She reached up and scratched her nose, not quite able to hide the tears in her eyes.

  “Why didn’t she tell us about you? We would do anything for Riley—and you,” I added. “She used to talk about her baby sister she got to go visit sometimes.”

  “She’s protecting herself from you.”

  Now I was truly confused. “But I would never hurt her!”

  Wren rolled her neck, popping it on the second rotation. “Sure, you’d never intentionally hurt her, but everyone leaves. No one is there for you.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means every single person who should have provided stability in Riley’s life has left her in some way. She loved you and your family. It was easier for her to be the first to leave.”

  “But we would never leave her—“ I tried to say.

  Wren pulled her phone out of her purse. “Was Nola’s college boyfriend serious?”

  I thought back about it. He’d been a spineless little soul that I didn’t like much, but Nola had spent a lot of time with him; the M word had been mentioned. Wren nodded when she saw the look in my eye.

  “And where were you?”

  I tapped my foot against the metal bleacher seat in front of me. “Dropped out of college and was off doing photography.”

  “Where were your parents?”

  “Mom had left on her medical missions trip, and Dad was moving to establish a new property management office.”

  I propped my knee up and turned to stare at Wren. “She told you all this?”

  “All of it came out over time. She never said it in so many words, but I put it together. It felt like you were leaving. Then she found out she got me.” Wren rolled her eyes. “Not exactly what a college grad dreams of.”

  “Hey, I happen to know Riley loves you very much.”

  “I’m not arguing with that at all—you’re right. I’m just trying to explain from Riley’s side. It’s not fair to be mad at her. Heck, even your dad wasn’t mad at her. He helped.”

  I wiggled my jaw, trying to pop my ears. “Wait. My dad?”

  She ignored my question. “Riley’s talked about you a lot. She even told me about how dumb you were to dye your hair blue. I saw the picture. It really was bad.”

  “Well, thanks. That's a boost to my confidence.” But my mind was too busy thinking about what she said before. My dad knew about Riley leaving. He’d never said a word. But he’d helped her—whatever that entailed.

  I scanned the crowed at the concession stand, trying to spot Riley.

  Wren kept talking. “What I'm saying is, don't hurt Riley, but don't give up on her.”

  “You’re strangely perceptive for a girl obsessed with a boy you won’t tell Riley about.”

  She straightened at that. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

  “On our date, Riley said you’d recently broken up with your boyfriend, but obviously, you’re dating someone.”

  “Where is Riley?” she grumbled.

  I leaned over and grabbed her phone, stuffing it back in her purse. “Trust me, it’s good for a guy to wait on a girl. Don’t text him. If he texts, don’t text him back right away.”

  “But I can’t. If I don’t, then he—“ She stopped talking.

  I didn’t look at her; I just kept watching the crowd, trying to find Riley. “You know, if he’s putting conditions on your relationship, he’s being a douchebag.”

  “You don’t even know him.”

  “You’re right. So, maybe I’m wrong about him. Maybe he doesn’t flirt with other girls when you’re around. Maybe you’re not worr
ied that he has another girlfriend.”

  “I’m not worried about it,” she retorted.

  My speech was losing its punch, and I was pretty sure I was about to be the one to get punched. “If you’re not worried about it, that’s great. Because you’re young and have your entire life ahead of you. Don’t bend it to fit around a boy who doesn’t give you the time that you deserve.”

  She reached halfway to her purse then stopped herself.

  “You don’t have to be anyone’s doormat,” I said quietly. Several truck engines revved at that same time, so I wasn’t actually sure if she heard me or not.

  “Do you think it’s different if he’s older? Maybe he is just more mature.”

  Tapping my finger against my knee rhythmically, I took a calming breath before I answered her. “How much older?”

  “Only a few years.”

  I took a deep breath in through my nose. I could either ruin this and push her more toward this mystery boyfriend she was trying to hide, or I could come up with something wise and convincing and try to get her to break up with him. I could have really used Riley’s help right about then.

  “Does he only have eyes for you when you’re in a group?”

  “Erm...”

  “Does he text you throughout the day?”

  She glanced down at her purse, not bothering to answer me.

  “Does he plan the next time to hang out with you? Does he introduce you to all of his friends as his girlfriend?”

  She shifted.

  “You’re almost an adult; this is a decision you make, but don’t settle for mediocre. It’s better to be happily single than miserably attached.”

  “What if I’m the only one who’s single in my class?”

  “Who cares? The only people who will give you a hard time for being single are insecure people. You definitely don’t want to be one of those.”

  She nodded. “That’s true.”

  “Give it a thought, at least. Oh, holy—did you see that truck get hit?”

  We turned our attention toward the mudding field. A small pickup had been t-boned by one twice its size.

  “Isn’t this great?”

  “I thought this was a mudding event, not a demolition derby!”

  “Accidents happen.”

  I still couldn’t spot Riley, and Marni and Dean were long gone. I wouldn’t put it past those two to be out there testing out their truck’s four-wheel drive.

  I pulled my phone out.

  Nate: You need to talk to Dad.

  Nola: What? What’s going on?

  Nate: You need to ask Dad about Riley.

  Nola: Dad’s not dying?

  Nate: NO! Why would you think that???

  Nola: Nvm. Why should I talk to him about Riley?

  Nate: Everything isn’t like it seems, and you and I have been jerks.

  Chapter Eleven

  Riley

  I’d overheard him warning Wren about boys. I didn’t think I could like him more—until now. He was everything good and kind in the world. Trying to protect Wren, always protecting me—even from myself. He didn’t know I was standing right below the bleachers, close to where they sat chatting.

  Luckily, the bleachers weren’t very tall, so it had been easy to eavesdrop underneath them. I juggled my armloads of fries and cheesy nachos as I climbed the steps. We sat four rows up.

  Nate smiled at me, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. I passed Wren the fries and Nate the pretzel. I kept the nachos for myself.

  Guilty pleasure. Plastic cheese on stale chips.

  I sat down next to Nate.

  “Do people ever get hurt at these things?” Nate asked as he reached over to steal a chip from me.

  “No, never.”

  “Then why is there an ambulance down there with a bunch of paramedics looking like kids in a candy shop?”

  I glanced at the group of buff guys watching, “They’re just there for me to admire.”

  A large hand covered my eyes.

  Wren piped up, “Don’t believe her, Nate. She’s never actually been to a mudding event before. Usually, she’s too busy. I guess we should have asked you to come with us a long time ago. That must be the trick to getting her to come with us.”

  I blindly picked up a cheesy chip, Nate’s hand still obscuring the beautiful scenery.

  The cheese smeared across my upper lip as I tried to eat the chip. Nate moved his hand and dropped a thumb to my lips, gently rubbing off the cheese. His strong finger rubbing against my soft lips shot sparks down my spine. I couldn’t tear my gaze away from his.

  A loud crunch brought our attention back to the pit below.

  “Did that truck just split in two? Is that even possible?” Wren asked.

  I felt Nate’s eyes burning into my skin and had to force myself not to look at him.

  Marni and Dean made their way up the bleachers and sat down next to me. It was a surprisingly good time, and I discovered that there wasn’t anywhere I’d rather be than at that mudding event, sitting next to Nate and enjoying friends’ company.

  When it was time to leave, we got separated in the crowd as everyone walked back to their own cars. Wren and I walked ahead of Marni and Dean, and Nate brought up the rear.

  Wren leaned close to me so that I could hear her and said, “I might have over shared.”

  “About what? To who?” I asked, the nachos settling heavily in my stomach.

  “Nate. I might have mentioned something about his dad.”

  “Wren!” My outburst surprised even me. “Why would you say that?”

  “I’m sorry!” she wailed. “He was just so easy to talk to; it slipped on out.”

  I stamped forward, regretting that I hadn’t brought my car. I’d wanted to make Nate uncomfortable cramming into a pickup truck with strangers. Instead, he owned it. And now I would be uncomfortable, knowing he knew.

  Dean and Marni strolled toward us, hand in hand. “Hey there! Everyone ready to go?”

  We piled into the truck, except this time, I made Wren sit on top of me. I wasn’t sure Nate would want to be touching me after he found out how I’d taken advantage of his dad. He deserved someone better than me.

  When we pulled back into the trailer park, Nate climbed out of the truck first, then Wren. I tried to follow, but my legs were numb from Wren sitting on me. Nate sighed, reached into the truck, and lifted me out bridal style.

  “We’ll see you guys later!” he called to Dean and Marni as he shouldered the truck door shut. They drove down the street and around the bend toward their own single-wide.

  Wren walked inside the trailer, only shutting the screen door after her. “It’s hot in here!” she yelled out to us.

  Nate glanced down at me. “Guess I should put you down. Want to sit on the bench?”

  We sat down on the wicker couch together. I wasn’t sure how much Wren had told him, but I imagined there wasn’t much left to his imagination.

  But he was still here. Still sticking with me even though I tried to push him away. He was still protecting me in the little things.

  Now that I looked back, I wondered how many of our arguments in middle school and high school had been the typical flirting of kids.

  We’d had each other’s backs even then.

  We even teamed up to look out for Nola—bless her over-large, accepting heart. That girl didn’t like to tell any of the boys no. And she was beautiful enough that she was constantly being asked out. She wanted to keep everyone happy and spread some love in her life.

  That was where Nate and I came in. We wouldn’t let her go out with some of the boys. She got stubborn one time and went out with a boy Nate and I didn’t like. I tagged along. Nate and I were right. He was a tool and made a move on me when Nola left the room. Needless to say, I have a much better right hook than average. I’d grown up in a scrappier situation.

  After decking him, I’d texted Nate, and he came to pick us up from the party.

  He was livid. We had to ta
lk him down from beating the guy to within an inch of his life. Seeing someone who usually terrorized Nola and me get so protective of me...that had been the moment when I saw him with more clarity. He wasn’t the dumb little brother he pretended to be. He was just a little brother doing what brothers did. Making their sister’s and her friends’ lives miserable until they really needed him.

  Funny thing, the next day at school, the guy had had a black eye—courtesy of me. But he also had a broken nose and a fat lip.

  No one knew who did that to him, but Nate’s knuckles were a little scraped up. He never admitted anything about it, but from that moment on, I became more protective of him. I started fielding girls and pointing away the ones who weren’t worthy of him. Of course, I couldn’t ever tell him that.

  He just wouldn’t understand.

  He’d probably be furious.

  It was as though we were destined to end up together. We’d both secretly (him not so secretly) been sabotaging the other’s dating life. It was as though we knew, subconsciously, that we liked each other.

  And now it was up to me to open up to him.

  “Thank you for going out on another date with me,” Nate said with a smile.

  “I think you went on a date with me tonight.” I smiled faintly.

  We stood in silence for a few minutes. “Do you want to go for a drive? Go get a late-night milkshake and fries?”

  “Yes. Milkshake and fries.” I nodded stiffly then followed him to his Jeep. He held the door open and pressed his hand against my lower back, guiding me into the car before he climbed in.

  He put the Jeep in reverse and backed out of his driveway.

  “Nate, I haven’t told you everything.”

  He nodded. “I know.”

  “But you’ve stayed.”

  “Riley, I’m not an idiot, despite what you think.”

  I studied my fingers and stretched each one individually.

  “I know you had a good reason. I know you were scared.”

  I steepled my fingers together and pressed, popping my knuckles.

  “What do you think I was scared of?”

  “Of my family. Of me.”

  That wasn’t true. I wasn’t scared of them. I was scared of how much I loved them. I turned to face him, leaning my back against the door. “That’s not true. Your family was always kind to me. I wasn’t scared of them.”

 

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