Rank

by D. R. Graham

  She leaned her forehead against mine. “Then do it.”

  I swallowed and closed my eyes, but didn’t make a move because I knew what would happen if I did. She was so innocent. So perfect. I was definitely going to mess everything up if I slept with her.

  Her phone rang on the bedside table. She didn’t seem to notice. She didn’t even blink. I sat back on my heels and tried to force air into my lungs to slow the body rush that was surging through me. She slid her hands up my neck and cradled my face. Her eyebrows angled together as she searched my expression.

  The ringing was not helping the alarming feeling that was tearing through my body. “You should answer the phone.”

  “I don’t want to. Are you okay?”

  The phone stopped ringing and she still hadn’t taken her eyes off me. “I feel like I’m going to throw up,” I admitted.

  The phone buzzed with a text message that lit up the screen. It was from Nate, so I picked it up and read it. Confirming that we’re still on for tomorrow. Pick you up at 1pm.

  I handed her the phone and stepped off the bed.

  She read the text. “This isn’t what you think. It’s not a date or anything. There is a reception at his country club tomorrow. A couple of the members of the committee who are deciding on the music scholarship I applied for are going to be there. He thought it might be a good opportunity for me to network.”

  “It is a good opportunity. I should let you get your rest now.”

  She blinked a few times and her hurt was obvious, but she didn’t say anything.

  I ran my fingers through my hair, feeling guilty as hell. “Which drawer do you keep your nighties in?”

  “The top middle one.”

  I opened the drawer and pulled out a tank top and boxer shorts. She sat back against the pillows as I tossed them to her. “Good night, Shae-Lynn.” I leaned over and kissed her forehead. Then I took the whiskey with me and left.

  After puking three times in the bathroom, I sat on the couch and tipped the bottle back. I thought that if I drank enough I would forget about how badly I wanted to go back into her room. The alcohol wasn’t working. It was only making me feel like throwing up again. I stopped drinking and stumbled out onto the front porch for some fresh air and to keep myself away from her bedroom door. I paced with a wobble back and forth and hit my forehead repeatedly with the heel of my hand, hoping that the pounding would somehow help my brain figure out what the right thing to do was. No matter how I reasoned it, the right thing was walking away from her so she could have a better life with a guy like Nate. A guy who wouldn’t eventually do something selfish to break her heart.

  At three in the morning, Lee-Anne came home. I was slouched over on the front porch steps. She got out of her car and walked over to stand in front of me.

  “You should probably get that heart condition of yours checked out by a doctor.”

  My fist was clutching my chest as if I’d been shot.

  She frowned. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Trying to sober up enough to drive.”

  “Drive where?”

  “Home.”

  She swung her purse and hit me across the side of the head four times. “Asshole.”

  I didn’t even put my arms up to protect myself because I wanted it to hurt.

  “You can’t just use her and leave, you son of a bitch.”

  “I didn’t use her. Nothing happened. I swear.”

  She smacked my face and the sting made my eyes water. “If nothing happened, why are you trying to sneak out of here in the middle of the night?”

  “I just have to go.”

  “What about the buyer for Stella?”

  “Uh, he backed out.”

  She glared at me. “Why are you leaving?”

  “Shae-Lynn’s better off without a guy like me. I’d rather she figure that out now before it’s too late.”

  “When’s too late? Because if it’s after she’s fallen for you, it’s already too late. She’s liked you since she was old enough to know what a boy was.”

  “Don’t make this harder than it already is. I like her so much it’s killing me, but I don’t know how to be the guy she wants me to be.”

  “Yes, you do. Real relationships are just like bull riding. You have to be willing to risk getting hurt, and you have to hang it all out, and never give up no matter how scary or hard it gets. You know how to do it. You’re just too much of a coward to try.”

  “I can’t compete with a guy like Nate.”

  “You’re right. A quality, well respected man who retired from the rodeo to open a successful and lucrative business is no match for an emotionally stunted adolescent who quit, scared because he didn’t want to end up like his dad, but still hasn’t actually moved on.”

  The build up of emotion crept up my throat. I shook my head wishing what she said wasn’t true, but it was.

  “Fine. If you want to break her heart, go ahead. I’m not going to stop you.”

  I blinked hard. “She deserves someone better than me.”

  “Well, yeah, obviously. But she wants you.”

  “I’m no good for her. You and I both know that.”

  “But she is good for you. You and I both know that too.” She hit me one more time, then stomped up onto the porch and disappeared into the house.

  It wasn’t until six in the morning that I felt sober enough to drive, although I probably still wasn’t. I got in my truck and called Paul Delorme. He didn’t answer, so I left a message, “Hi. This Billy Ryan. I’m calling to let you know that I changed my mind and I won’t be selling Stella right now. Sorry to have wasted your time and I apologize if your daughter is disappointed.” I hung up, started the truck, and drove away.

  Chapter 20

  As soon as I got back to Saskatoon, I felt like complete shit for leaving without saying goodbye to Shae-Lynn. I wanted to call to apologize, but I forced myself not to because I thought it would be easier for her to forget about me if she thought I was an asshole. The problem was I couldn’t stop thinking about her. It was torture not to talk to her and it was killing me to live with the guilt of hurting her.

  I called Tawnie intending to tell her that it was over, but the day I called, her grandpa had had a minor heart attack. She was stressed and already crying when we talked, so I didn’t do it. Instead, I just stopped calling.

  On the Thursday before the High River rodeo, I was sitting in my mom’s kitchen holding my phone fighting the urge to call Shae-Lynn. Mom stood at the counter in her work clothes making coffee. Cole sat down across the table from me with two slices of toast on a plate. “What’s wrong?” he asked me.

  “Nothing.”

  “Why do you look like someone just ran over your dog?”

  Mom turned to glance over her shoulder at me.

  “It’s nothing,” I mumbled.

  Unconvinced, she turned back to fill three travel mugs with coffee. She reached over to turn the garburator on. It made the horrific grinding sound and then clunked to a complete stop. I shot Cole a look that made it clear I wanted to rip his face off and shove it down his throat.

  “Sorry. I’ll get to it,” he mumbled.

  Mom sighed and faced me. “You have seemed a little down lately, honey.” She walked over and put two of the mugs on the table before returning to get hers from the counter.

  “It’s just stress.” I stood and picked up the mug to take it with me. “Do you need me to give you a ride to work?” I offered.

  “No, thanks. Linda’s going to swing by.”

  “Should I get your wheelchair?”

  “No, today’s a good day. I feel great.” She picked up a package from the counter and handed it to me. “This was delivered for you yesterday.”

  It was the custom-made belt I had ordered for Shae-Lynn’s birthday. The sight of it gave me a pain in the chest that made me wince, and my breath caught in my throat for a second.

  Mom frowned in a concerned motherly way, so I avoid
ed looking at her.

  Cole took a bite of toast and said, “I’m leaving for High River tomorrow at noon if you want to come with me.”

  “Are you planning on riding?” Mom asked.

  “No, I was just going to hang out with everyone. Maybe I’ll play some pool.” He raised his eyebrows and grinned because he meant he wanted to hustle.

  I checked Mom’s expression to see if she knew what he meant by playing pool. She obviously had no clue because she picked up her purse and said, “You should go, Billy. I don’t like seeing you look so sad. It will be good for you to just have fun. High River is only forty-five minutes from Calgary. Maybe you two could go by the Roberts’ ranch to check on Stella and say hi to the Roberts. Oh, there’s my ride.” She kissed us both on the cheek. “Love you.”

  “Love you,” we both said then watched her leave out the back door.

  “Are you in?” Cole asked.

  “You don’t have any money.”

  “I sold the quad. I got thirty-five hundred for it. I don’t have much more time before they come to collect.”

  “I haven’t hustled in a long time. What if we lose it all?”

  “We won’t.”

  “We can’t make enough in one night to cover the entire debt.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m going to enter the hundred thousand dollar stock contractor event.”

  “Entering and winning are two separate things.”

  “I’m going to win.” He grinned with inflated confidence.

  I shook my head and walked towards the door. “You’re delusional. You should mention that to your psychiatrist at your next meeting.”

  “It’s not delusional if it’s true. Are you coming this weekend?”

  “Only if you don’t screw up the hustle. And you better fix the God damn garburator or I’ll fix it and shove you down it.” I stepped out onto the porch and let the screen door slam behind me.

  In High River, we checked into a room at the hotel where the rodeo participants were staying. Then we headed out to a bar that had pool tables. We chose the bar that was having a karaoke night because we figured there would be a lot of suckers there. We lost the first five games we played. The first two were for beers and the other three were for twenty bucks each. There were two club boys at one of the other tables checking us out, so we started to act as if we’d had too much to drink. Cole was better at the acting drunk because he was good at getting loud and obnoxious. I was better at duffing shots and acting as if I was an inexperienced player. Eventually, the club boys walked over and challenged us to a one hundred dollar game. We pretended to try our hardest. When it got down to the game winning shot, Cole took his time lining it up and then missed it by the narrowest margin possible.

  “Come on!” I yelled and shoved his shoulder. “How’d you miss that?”

  One of the club boys sunk the eight ball for the win and they both grinned at us waiting to get paid.

  “God damn it,” I whined. “You just lost us a hundred bucks.”

  Cole opened his wallet and flipped through a stack of hundred dollar bills. “Do you guys want to go double or nothing?”

  The club boys both nodded and racked them up.

  “What are you doing?” I got off my stool and pretended to stumble a little. I did the loud whisper that drunk people do, “Are you crazy? We can’t beat them. We’re going to lose another hundred.”

  “I almost had it. Just one more game.”

  “All right fine. One more, but if we lose, you can’t bet any more. That’s our rent money.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He tipped the bottle as if he was taking a sip of his beer.

  We lost two more double or nothing games by just one shot before Cole started acting frustrated and competitive. He bet them everything he had in his wallet. I argued with him to make it look like I wasn’t okay with him betting that much on one game of pool. I shoved him and sulked while nursing my beer. As I was waiting for my turn, I recognized the voice of the karaoke singer who just started her song. I stood and walked around the corner so I could see the stage. She was wearing a tank top and a denim mini skirt with boots. The song she was singing was Carrie Underwood’s Good Girl. After she finished the last note, the entire bar erupted into cheers. She glared at me, then put the mic down and gingerly walked without crutches down the steps of the stage.

  “Billy, it’s your turn,” Cole said.

  I turned around and ran the table. After I sunk the eight ball, I hung the cue stick on the rack. Cole pretended to be shocked and ecstatic about my dumb luck. He was going to be pissed that I didn’t play it more casually, but I wanted to go find Shae-Lynn. The club boys handed the money to Cole and I walked away. Shae-Lynn was sitting at a table near the stage with her sister, Nate, and one other bronc rider. I walked right up to her. “May I speak with you, please?”

  “This isn’t a good time,” she said without even looking up at me.

  I glanced at everyone else at the table. Nate smiled. “Hi Billy.”

  “Hi.” It was impossible not to like the guy, so I turned my back on him and focused on Shae-Lynn. “Do you want me to say what I have to say in front of everyone?”

  Her cheeks turned pink and she stood. I pulled her hand and led her out to the patio.

  She crossed her arms. “You have eight seconds.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “All right. Bye.” She turned to leave, so I reached for her elbow.

  “Shae-Lynn.”

  “Shae.”

  I exhaled and pushed my hat back. “You don’t…I’ve been, uh. Ever since…This. Shit.” I exhaled again and wiped the sweat that was dripping down the side of my face. “I don’t know how to say what I want to say.”

  She frowned and studied my eyes. “You’re not drunk.”

  “No.”

  “Why were you acting like you were?”

  I looked around to see if anyone was close enough to hear us, then I lowered my voice, “We were hustling those guys.”

  She shook her head, unimpressed, and obviously not surprised.

  “I want to make things right with you.”

  “You don’t have to. You were right. We wouldn’t have worked. I’m just glad you left before anything happened. Don’t worry about it.” She turned again, but I still had a hold of her elbow, so I tugged her back towards me. “Let me go, Billy. I’m here with Nate.”

  It felt like she slapped me and it took me a second to get over the sting. “But I want to tell you how I feel about you.”

  “I know how you feel about me. You like me enough to sleep with me, but you don’t like me enough to make me your girlfriend. Since we’ve known each other forever you decided to take off before you used me instead of taking off after you used me. It’s kind of sweet in a really pathetic way.”

  “That’s not why I left. I like you enough to make you my girlfriend — more than enough.”

  She blinked slowly and her eyes were watery when she opened them again. “I don’t want to be your girlfriend, Billy. You’ll only break my heart.” She yanked her arm out of my grasp and walked back into the bar.

  I had to sit on one of the plastic patio chairs because the wind was knocked out of my chest. It felt worse than the time the bull sat down on me in the chute and collapsed my lung. I was still gasping to force oxygen back in when Cole walked up. “We have to go. Those guys are pretty pissed that we hustled them.”

  “Go ahead. I have to work things out with Shae-Lynn.”

  “I’m not leaving you here by yourself. Work what things out? Since when do you and Shae Roberts have things to work out? Is that why you blew the hustle?”

  I stood and stormed back into the bar on a mission.

  Cole was right behind me. “What exactly are you planning to do?”

  I approached the stage and wiped my palms on my jeans. My heart was racing like a thoroughbred. I exhaled and leaned over to ask the girl who was organizing the karaoke to show me the binder of songs. I flipped thr
ough the pages until I found one that I knew how to play on the guitar.

  “That one’s got some tricky parts,” she said.

  “Yeah, I know. I’m going to butcher it, but I’ve got something to prove.”

  Since it would be entertaining, she smiled, loaded it up on the computer, and handed me a microphone. “What’s your name?”

  “Billy.” I adjusted the microphone in the stand and picked up a guitar that was out for the house band. It was a right-handed guitar, so I turned it upside down to hold it left-handed, pulled the front of my hat down, and took a bunch of deep breaths.

  The girl spoke into her microphone to introduce me. “Everybody put your hands together for Billy. He’s going to attempt I Will Wait by Mumford and Sons because apparently he’s got something to prove.”

  About three people clapped. Cole cheered, but then checked over his shoulder to keep track of where the club boys were lurking.

  I stepped up to the mic and said, “I can’t sing, so I apologize in advance.” The music started and I played the guitar with the intro. When the lyrics came up on the screen, I read the first couple of words in my head before I realized I was supposed to be singing. I didn’t jump in and sing until the third line. I was having trouble keeping up with the notes on the guitar at the same time as reading the lyrics, so there was a half-second delay until I found the rhythm. Eventually, I stopped reading and sang from memory. It probably sounded like a bullfrog getting violated.

  Even though I hadn’t looked up, I could feel every single person in the bar gawking at me. Quite a few people were laughing. Cole yeehawed when I hit the chorus again. I finally looked up. Shae-Lynn’s hands were covering her mouth in a horrified expression. Lee-Anne was grinning. I skipped the singing for one verse and just focused on the guitar. The last couple of I will waits were more like talking than singing. When I finished, Cole gave me a standing ovation. Everyone else cheered, except for Shae-Lynn. Lee-Anne bounced up and down. Shae-Lynn was still frozen in the same position with her hands clamped to her mouth. I leaned the guitar back on the stand, then hopped down from the stage and stood in front of her. Lee-Anne pulled her up by the elbow to make her stand. “Shae-Lynn —”