Rodeo Princess

by M. G. Higgins

  Amy doesn’t respond.

  “That’s what we named the cows in the painting. Remember? We went looking for them on my ranch. That’s when you decided all cows look alike. Your mom was so mad when we came back. She’d been about to call Sheriff Becker. Thought we’d been kidnapped.”

  “This won’t work,” Amy says.

  “What?”

  “What you’re doing right now. Trying to get back into my life.”

  “That’s not what I’m doing,” I say.

  “You should have said no. That was the deal. You stay out of my life. I don’t tell anyone what you are.”

  “I never wanted to stop being your friend.”

  “No, but I did. I thought you got that. I thought you respected that.” She gets to her feet. “I decided a long time ago to forgive you, Jade. It’s the Christian thing to do. Jesus says to love everyone. Even if what they’ve done is wrong. But I’m not going to put myself in that situation again. I’ve seen the look in your eyes. It makes my skin crawl. It’s evil.”

  I wince. As though she slapped me. “It didn’t make your skin crawl three years ago.”

  Her face turns red. “Get out,” she hisses. “get. out.”

  “Tell your parents I’m sorry. I’m sure you’ll come up with a good excuse.”

  I walk to my truck. The tires spew gravel as I fly out of there.

  Chapter 7

  I slow down when I’m off McNair land. Grip the steering wheel. Fight the tears wanting to pour out. And the flooding memories. They both come anyway. It was the end of summer. We were out riding. Amy had been quiet all day. We got caught in a thunderstorm. Galloped our horses back to the stable. Toweled ourselves dry.

  Amy started to cry. She sank into the corner of a stall. I sat next to her. She was sobbing. I kept asking, “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head. Wouldn’t answer.

  I wrapped my arm around her. She leaned her head against my shoulder.

  I don’t remember who started it. First our eyes met. Then our lips. We were kissing. Everything suddenly fell into place. My life made sense. I didn’t want to stop. She pulled away. Jumped up. “You’d better go,” she said.

  I hated leaving her. I wanted to talk about what had just happened. Why she’d been crying. But I didn’t want to upset her more. So I left.

  I was a mess. I’d always known being attracted to girls was wrong. Heard Dad say hateful things about gay people. Mom was a firm believer in whatever Pastor Nichols preached. And he was definitely anti-gay. I’d hoped maybe it was a phase. I’d grow out of it. After kissing Amy, I knew better. It was not a phase. I was not normal.

  Was Amy the same as me? Could I possibly be that lucky? Or had something else happened? I needed to see her again. Talk to her. But she’d been so upset. I wanted her to contact me first.

  Eighth grade started a week later. I still hadn’t heard from Amy. I met her in the morning at her locker. Just like always.

  “We’re not friends anymore,” she said. Then she marched away. It was over. Just like that.

  I didn’t want to accept it. Later that day, I found her alone in the restroom. “Can we talk about this?” I said.

  “No,” she said. “Stay out of my life. Or I’ll tell.”

  That was something I couldn’t risk. I was certain my family would kick me out of the house. I had no place to go. I didn’t know another gay person. Didn’t know where to turn.

  So I used the computer. Started going online. Looking at forums. Trying to find kids like me. I found them. So did my brothers. I had no idea either of them knew about computers.

  A year ago they found the computer’s online history. Found the sites I’d visited. I told them I was doing a report for health class. They didn’t believe me. They’ve been giving me hell ever since. Especially Seth.

  The worst thing? I lost my best friend. And my second family. So many times I wished I could have taken back that kiss. Buried my feelings for her.

  I still wish it. Was Amy right? Did I go there tonight wanting to get back into her life?

  I get to the turnoff for our ranch. Stop the truck. Sit there. Pull out my phone. Think about calling Mike. Wish he was just a friend. But our relationship is too complicated. I could call Lily. She’s a friend. But not a good-enough friend to discuss this. There’s no one I can talk to.

  I turn down our long driveway. Park near the stable. The moon is almost full. I throw on my field coat. Ride Misty bareback up Rattlesnake Hill. Sit there for the longest time. Stare at the warm light flowing through the windows of the McNair house. Imagine eating those delicious ribs. The custard pie. Mr. and Mrs. McNair asking about me. About my family. Caring about what I have to say.

  I shake my head. Amy. The McNairs. They’re like a drug. I can’t do this to myself anymore. I’m not coming back here again. I turn Misty. Trot her home. I’m going to win that race. It’s all I have.

  Amy doesn’t make eye contact with me at school the next morning. Not that I expect her to. I swallow my pride. My anger. Text her, “Sorry about dinner. Want to keep training. Promise to keep my distance. Ok?”

  It must take her a while to think about it. She doesn’t text back until the afternoon. “Ok.”

  I drive out to the McNairs’ ranch after school. Plan on spending an hour with Dilly, then going right home. Hope I don’t run into Amy. Or her parents. I’m sure they’re pissed at me for disappearing last night. Amy probably didn’t go out of her way to make me look sympathetic.

  I park near the stable. Walk inside. Hear voices. Mr. McNair and Jesse. I scoot into the tack room. Hope the conversation ends soon.

  “Do you want to keep working here?” Mr. McNair’s voice is loud. Harsh.

  “Yeah. Sure.” Jesse voice is defensive.

  “Then do what I tell you. No more. No less. Do you understand?” He’s slurring his words.

  “Fine. I’ve got it.”

  “These horses are worth too much. Too goddamned much. I’ll take it out of your pay. Then won’t you be sorry. Mister Bull Rider. Mister Jesse Bull Rider.”

  Jesse doesn’t respond. I hear a crash. “Damn it!” Mr. McNair swears.

  Half a minute later, Jesse walks into the tack room. His cheeks are red. He jerks to a stop when he sees me. “Oh. Hey. Didn’t know you were here.” He takes his hat off. Nervously combs his fingers through his hair. “Did you hear any of that?”

  “A little.”

  “I’m still not sure what I did wrong. I think he was drunk.” He slips his hat back on. “You know this family. Is he like that very often?”

  I shake my head. “He’s usually really nice. Friendly.”

  “Yeah. Well. I won’t put up with it. Life’s too short.” He looks over my shoulder. Like he’s thinking about something. Then he smiles. “Guess you’re here to ride Dilly. I’ll get her.”

  I don’t run into Amy that day. Or Friday. I’m relieved.

  Chapter 8

  The rodeo is in another week. Dilly and I are clicking. But I realize something when I train her with barrels. She has a bad habit of shouldering. Knocking barrels over. In a race, a tipped-over barrel is a five-second deduction. A sure loss.

  Is this why Amy loaned her to me? She knows there’s no way I’ll win riding a horse that knocks barrels.

  I’d been hoping I could limit training at this point. Stay away from the McNairs’ as much as possible. But breaking Dilly’s habit is going to take work. A lot of repetitions.

  I’m up early on Saturday. I get to the stable about seven thirty. My intention is to avoid Amy. Jesse isn’t there. I wonder if he has weekends off. Or if he just isn’t up yet.

  Now what? I’m supposed to let him get Dilly for me. I stand around a few minutes. This is stupid. I can get my own horse. I grab a brush from the tack room. Stride between the stalls. Notice horses are munching fresh hay. Someone has been here.

  “Hello?” I call.

  No answer.

  I open the gate to Dilly�
��s stall. “Hey, girl.” She bobs her head. I stroke her neck. “Ready to work?”

  “What are you doing?”

  I turn. Amy. Dang. I want to disappear. “Jesse wasn’t here,” I say softly. “I didn’t want to waste time.”

  “Well, that’s the deal. Sorry.”

  I notice she’s pushing a wheelbarrow. It’s loaded with hay. I’m sure that’s Jesse’s job. Is she covering for him?

  I set down my brush. Wait until she’s in a stall. Then I head to the tack room to wait.

  “Oh, go ahead,” Amy says when I pass her. “Just don’t let Dad catch you.” She throws hay into the next stall. “Why are you here so early?”

  I scoot back to Dilly. “Why do you think?”

  “To avoid me. That didn’t work out so well, did it?” She shoves the wheelbarrow.

  I brush Dilly. Listen to hay landing with soft thuds. I decide to risk a question. “How long have you known Dilly has a shouldering problem?”

  She’s quiet a second. “Since we brought her home.”

  “You really despise me, don’t you?” I brush Dilly hard. She snaps her head at me. “Sorry,” I murmur.

  “Yes. But Dilly was Dad’s idea. He thinks you’re a good rider. Thinks you might train her out of it.”

  I think of all the expensive trainers they pay for. “I don’t know if I should be angry or flattered.”

  “Be anything you want.” More hay thuds to the floor.

  “Jesse?!”

  I turn. It’s Mr. McNair. He is standing at the other end of the stable.

  “Shoot,” Amy mutters. She quickly opens a stall door. Whispers, “Don’t tell him I’m here.” She slides down.

  Mr. McNair marches toward me. “Jesse!” he yells.

  He gets even with Dilly’s stall. Sees me. “Oh, Jade. It’s you.” He glances at the wheelbarrow. “Where’s Jesse?”

  “I don’t know. He ran out a minute ago. Said he’d be right back.”

  “Would you tell him to come find me? By the way, you should let him do that.”

  “For insurance reasons?” I ask.

  “Right. Hey, sorry about dinner the other night. Amy said you got sick. We missed you. Amy especially. She hardly said a word all night. I wish you two would straighten things out. She was a lot happier when you were friends.”

  I don’t know what to say. So I don’t say anything.

  “So you’ll tell Jesse to see me?” he says.

  “Sure.”

  He marches out.

  “Is he gone?” Amy whispers from her hiding spot.

  “Yep.”

  She gets to her feet. Peers over the stall. “Thanks.” She scrambles out. Slides behind the wheelbarrow again. “What my dad said wasn’t true, you know. I didn’t miss you at dinner. I was quiet for other reasons.”

  “Like what?” The question falls out of my mouth. It feels so natural to ask it. Especially between Amy and me. The old Amy and me.

  “Stuff,” she says, surprising me with an answer. “The school play. Rodeo princess. Barrel race. Some other things.” She pauses. “It feels like I’m about to bust apart half the time.” She throws hay into another stall. “So you and Mike Price. That’s kind of weird.”

  I look at her.

  “I thought you were, you know …”

  Gay must be the word she’s looking for. I bet she’s been dying to ask me about him.

  “You really like him?” she asks.

  “Yes.”

  She nods. “Are you one of those? You know? You like both boys and girls?”

  Damn her. Why are we talking? Why am I allowing it? I’m here to train. That’s all. I don’t answer. Finish brushing Dilly. Lead her out of the stall.

  “I’m back!” Jesse sprints inside. He’s panting. Sweating. Dilly shies as he passes. He comes back. Takes the lead rope from me. “Sorry. I’ll do that.”

  “It’s about time!” Amy says. “Dad came looking for you. He almost caught me.”

  “I got held up. I’m sorry.” The next minute they’re standing in front of each other. Smiling. He brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

  I head outside. Wait for Jesse to saddle Dilly. If Amy was still my friend, I’d ask her what’s going on with Jesse. But she’s not my friend. So I don’t care.

  I do a lot of drills with Dilly. Circles. Triangles. Figure eights. Ride around one barrel until she gets it right. Then move on to the next. Ride in the other direction. Hopefully she’s remembering the good moves I’m teaching her. I decide to end with a short trail ride.

  I turn us toward Beehive Trail. Amy and I made all the trails when we first started riding. Gave them silly names. This one loops around a mesa. We decided it looks like a beehive. I have to pass the covered arena to get there. Amy is riding her bay gelding. A woman I’ve never seen before barks instructions. Must be her trainer.

  I should keep going. But I stop and watch. Check out my competition.

  Amy lopes her horse into the alleyway. Gallops toward the first barrel. Rounds it. Does the next two. Then she’s out again. Wow. She was fast. That’s a really nice horse she’d riding. She sees me.

  I brace myself for a frown. A snarl.

  But she grins. Pumps her fist in the air with pure joy.

  I smile back. Share that split second of joy with her. A split second of who we were.

  Chapter 9

  Dilly and I have been out maybe fifteen minutes. Galloping hoofbeats charge up behind us. Then Amy’s riding next to me.

  I tense. Stare straight ahead. Dilly flicks her ears.

  “I want to talk to you about Jesse,” Amy says. “What you think you saw in the stable. There’s nothing going on between us. We’re just friends.”

  I shrug.

  “You won’t tell Troy, will you?”

  “Why would I?”

  I figure she’s delivered her message. She’ll leave. But she says, “I watched you with Dilly today. You did better with her than her trainer. That guy was an idiot. I’m glad Dad fired him.”

  I shrug again.

  “So how’s your mom?” she asks. “I hear she’s in Afghanistan. You must worry about her.”

  I pull Dilly to a stop. Stare at Amy. “Three days ago you ordered me to stay out of your life. You threatened me. You said I was evil. Now you’re chatting? Like nothing ever happened?”

  “I didn’t say you were evil. I said how you looked at me was evil.”

  “Right. Big difference.”

  “Fine.” She turns her horse for the ranch.

  My heart lurches. I’m confused. Still hurt from the things she’s said to me. But she’s reaching out. I can’t ignore that. Can’t ignore that moment of joy I felt a few minutes ago. I have so little joy in my life. “Amy. Wait.” I turn Dilly. It’s time to get back anyway.

  I ride next to her. “Yes, my mom’s in Afghanistan. I worry about her all the time.”

  “When’s she coming home?”

  “September.”

  “Are Seth and Toby still lazy pigs? Can’t even pour their own water?”

  I smile. “Yep.”

  “I can’t imagine putting up with that. My mom is not my favorite person in the world. But I don’t know what I’d do without her. Run away, probably.”

  “Really?”

  She shrugs. We ride quietly for a few minutes. Lost in our own thoughts. Like we used to. When we were kids. Except we’re not thirteen anymore. So much has changed. “Why are you talking to me, Amy?”

  She stares straight ahead. “What my dad said to you earlier. That I was happier when we were friends. I’ve been thinking about it all morning. He’s right. I haven’t been happy in a long time. Things are so … complicated. I miss talking to you. I miss this. Riding together.”

  I’ve missed it too. So much. But I’m afraid to say it. Don’t want her to take it the wrong way.

  “So,” Amy says. “I’m thinking if you keep your distance. You know, physical distance. And don’t look at me weird. Maybe we can be
friends again. What do you think?”

  I think she’s infuriating. I think she’ll never understand who I am. She’ll always think I’m evil. Sick. So, no. I don’t want to be friends again. Yet I do. Desperately. She’s Amy. I love her. I’ve always loved her. “Okay,” I say softly.

  “Cool. What do you think of Elvis?” She pats her horse’s neck.

  “He’s fast.”

  She grins. “He’s wicked fast. He’s about the only thing I can count on lately. We’re buds. Aren’t we, Elvis?” His ears twitch listening to her. “Shall we show Jade how fast you are?” She squeezes him with her heels. They’re off.

  Dilly and I gallop after them. It’s like the past three years never happened.

  I’m fixing roast beef for dinner. Scalloped potatoes. Fresh spring peas. Fruit salad.

  Toby walks in the back door. Sniffs. “Dang. Did I forget someone’s birthday?” He looks over my shoulder. I’m chopping apples. “What gives?”

  “Nothing. I just feel like cooking a good meal.”

  He gets in my face. Stares at me. “You’re smiling.”

  I hold up the knife. “Back off.”

  “Okeydokey.” He backs up slowly. “Beep. Beep. Beep.”

  Dad and Seth stomp in. “Smells like pot roast,” Dad says. He raises his eyebrows.

  “Be careful,” Toby says dramatically. “She’s smiling. And she has a knife.”

  “Why is she smiling?” Seth asks.

  “I don’t know. Ask her,” Toby says.

  “Why are you smiling?” Seth asks me.

  I glare at the three of them. “No reason. I’m just happy. Leave me alone.”

  Dad hangs up his jacket. “If it has something to do with the lotto, remember family comes first.”

  “I haven’t won the lotto.” I turn back to the salad.

  “Did you get laid?” Toby asks.

  “Damn it!” Dad slugs Toby’s arm. “She’s your sister. Have some respect.”

  “Ow.” Toby rubs his arm. “I thought it was a good question. I’m happy when I get laid.”

  “Hah! In your imagination,” Seth says.

  “Both of you get cleaned up,” Dad snarls.

  “Dinner’s in half an hour!” I call. “Then Mom’s Skype.” I’d told them she wasn’t happy with their absence last week. They won’t dare sneak out again tonight.