Rodeo Princess

by M. G. Higgins

  However I explain it, it means breaking up with Mike. So this is our last date. I’ve gotten too used to him. I’ve let myself get too close. Losing his friendship will hurt.

  We’re in the game arcade. “Ooh, look.” Mike is pointing at a booth. A shooting game. I taught him how to use a rifle. We’ve done some target practice. Went hunting once. Now he brags he’s an expert marksman.

  I snicker. “Go for it.”

  He strides over. Slaps a ticket on the counter. “Pick out your prize now, girlie. Because I am going to ace this.”

  He doesn’t ace it. Even after three tries. But he does win a toy necklace.

  “Don’t worry,” I tell him. “These games are rigged.”

  “I know. But dang. I wanted to impress you.” He ties the necklace around my throat. It’s a pink plastic heart with a rhinestone in the middle. “One of my first-ever gifts to you. And it’s jewelry. Too intimate?”

  “No. I like it. Thanks.”

  The speakers blare in the rodeo arena. The opening ceremony is about to start.

  “I’d better go,” I say. “Make sure Dilly got here okay.”

  He walks with me to the arena. I wrap my arm around him. He does the same. Holds me tight. We reach the entrance. “I’ll be rooting for you. And the pickle horse,” he says. “No matter what happens, you’re the best.” He kisses me. Walks to the ticket booth.

  I watch him for a moment. Then head to the horse trailers parked behind the grandstand. There are lots of trailers. Lots of horses. Even so, it doesn’t take long to find the McNairs’. Like their house, their trailer is huge. Holds six horses. Includes plush living quarters. Dilly and Elvis are tied up outside.

  Jesse is sitting on a folding chair. Smoking a cigarette. A piece of paper rests on his lap. “Hey,” he says.

  “Hey.” I check Dilly over. Pet her.

  “Nervous?” Jesse asks.

  “A little. You?”

  “Sure. I’m always jittery before riding a bull. And I got a bad one. That’s why I’m sucking on this.” He offers me his pack of cigarettes.

  “No thanks. Is that the schedule?” I point at the paper.

  He nods. Hands it to me. I scan down to the barrel race. There are eight contestants. Lily is first. Amy fourth. Megan fifth. I’m last. Great.

  “What do you think?” Jesse asks.

  “I hate going last. The dirt will be chewed up. But there’s nothing I can do about it.”

  “Nope. It’s still a couple of hours before barrels. You can sit if you want.”

  I glance at the empty chair next to him. Think about it. What I really want is to walk through this parking lot. And just keep walking. But I hear the loudspeaker. The opening ceremony is starting. They’ll be announcing the rodeo queen. “Think I’ll watch a bit.”

  “Yeah. Wish I could. Gotta keep tabs on the horses.” He flicks his cigarette butt on the ground near his chair. Steps on it. “Have to keep the McNairs happy.” I notice Jesse is not his usually chatty, happy self.

  I walk next to the grandstand. Lean on the fence. It’s hard to see everything from here. But I see enough. Riders gallop in. Carrying flags. A guy on a platform gives a speech. Mr. and Mrs. McNair are up there with him. Doesn’t surprise me. They’re big-money sponsors. Then it’s the National Anthem. And then the three princesses enter. Climb the steps to the platform.

  In their makeup and dresses, they all look like beauty queens. I’m not sure Amy’s that much prettier than Claire or Samantha. But she stands out. Like a glowing light. Of course the emcee announces her as queen. She’s gracious enough to look shocked. Hugs the other girls. Hugs her parents. Waves to the cheering crowd. Then they’re quickly off the platform. Which is whisked away. Bareback riding begins.

  I stay at the railing. Don’t want to be at the trailer right now. Don’t want to get caught up in Amy’s excitement. Lose myself. Do something I might regret. Because I want to touch her. Hold her. And more. So much more. I hate these feelings. Hate them. Why me? Why can’t I want the same thing as Mike? My life would be so much easier. I would not have chosen this in a million years.

  I watch as riders fly off bucking horses. I stay frozen in place through steer wrestling. Team roping. Kids riding sheep at intermission. Saddle bronc riding. Then tie-down roping starts. I force myself to move. Barrels are up next.

  Dilly is still tied to the trailer. Only now she’s saddled. Amy is sitting on Elvis. Wearing her riding clothes. “Jade, I won!” She beams. “I’m rodeo queen!”

  “I know. I saw. Congratulations.”

  Her dad steps out of the trailer. Sees me. “Where’ve you been, Jade? I was afraid you’d chickened out.”

  “I was watching the events.”

  He wraps his arm around my shoulder. “I wanted to talk to you.” He walks with me the length of the trailer. “Thought I should let you know there’s a buyer here from Wyoming. He’s interested in Dilly. For his daughter. He’ll make a nice offer. If Dilly does well today. I know you’ll do your best.”

  “Sure. Of course.”

  He pats my back. “That’s my girl.”

  Chapter 16

  Did Mr. McNair really need to tell me that? Right now? Did he think I wasn’t going to try hard enough otherwise?

  I step over to Dilly. Press my head against her neck. “Remember what I taught you. Please.”

  Jesse unties her. Removes her halter. Bridles her. Not because I’m unable do it myself. Mr. McNair is standing right there. I get on. Ride her away from the trailers. Need to find some empty space alone. Where I can warm up in peace. I walk Dilly. Trot her. Canter. Do some figure eights.

  The announcer’s voice is constant background noise. Then the crowd cheers. The announcer calls the winner of the tie-down roping event.

  The barrel race is next. I glance at the arena. Workers are setting up the three barrels.

  Lily crosses in front of me. We wave to each other. She looks stiff. Barely smiles. I don’t blame her. Going first is nerve-wracking. She lopes her horse to the end of the arena. To an open area outside the gate. Someone must have given her the signal to start. She kicks her horse into a gallop. Crosses through the open gate. An official will start a stopwatch.

  Lily circles the barrel to the right. Crosses to the left barrel. Circles it. Then charges to the third barrel at the top of the triangle. Circling that, she charges back to the starting point. Another official waves a red flag. The timer will stop the watch.

  It was a clean race. Her horse took the turns a little too wide. But it was pretty fast. Lily’s better than she let on.

  She passes me on the way out. I give her a thumbs-up. She’s smiling now. I’m happy for her.

  The races only last about twenty seconds. So it won’t be long before I’m up. I walk Dilly toward the end of the arena. She prances beneath me. Feeling my nerves. I pat her neck. Talk quietly to her.

  The third rider is already starting. Amy is up next. I’ve purposely stayed away from her. I need to focus on my race. Not on Amy. Not on Mike watching in the stands. No on my mom. Or the rest of my family. Or even on Mr. McNair’s buyer. It’s just me and Dilly.

  I close my eyes. Imagine my pattern. Imagine Dilly running her heart out. Skimming each barrel with just a few inches to spare.

  “Going to wish me luck?”

  I open my eyes. Amy is next to me on Elvis. I was so focused, I didn’t hear her. My heart thumps. “Good luck. You’d better get going. You’re next.”

  “I know. I wanted to make sure you watch me.” She grins. “Nice necklace. A gift from Mike?”

  I touch it. I’d forgotten I was wearing it.

  She turns Elvis. Starts her race from here. Gallops into the arena. Past the starting line. She and Elvis are like a single being. A creature of hooves and wings. Twisting and soaring. Twisting and soaring. They circle the last barrel. And charge home. A fantastic race.

  The announcer shouts her time. It’s two seconds faster than the first three riders. She gallops over to me.
“Jade, did you see me? Oh my God. That felt amazing.” She pats Elvis. “Good boy. You are such a good boy.”

  “You were incredible,” I say.

  The emcee announces Megan Wolf. We both watch. She is riding her new horse. The difference shows. She barely skims each barrel. Her turns are sharp. Clean. Powerful. Her time is faster than Amy’s. But not by much.

  “You could go pro,” I say to Amy.

  “You think? I never really considered it. Not seriously anyway. But yeah. That would be cool. Especially if you do it too.”

  She’s really hyped up again. Her words are clipped. Strained. Like her skin is on too tight. “Two more,” she says. “Then you’re up.”

  “I’ll see you after.” I ride Dilly away from Amy. Need to focus. Even if it’s just for a minute. The rider before me knocks over a barrel. Workers have to right it. The dirt is really soft now. It’s harder to make a good time.

  The workers leave the arena. An official nods. My name blares over the loudspeaker. I take a deep breath. Give Dilly one last pat. Urge her to a lope. Then a gallop.

  Everything fades away as we enter the arena. I don’t hear the announcer. Or the crowd. It’s just me and Dilly and these barrels. We head to the barrel on the right. Approach it from the left. Circle. Close but clean.

  Dilly’s hind legs power through the thick dirt. I look ahead to the second barrel. Circle it from the right. We’re too close. Dilly skims it with her shoulder. Damn. I don’t know if it fell.

  I’m already focused on the last barrel. This one we take from the right. I pull her out a little wider. It’s a clean turn. We race for the line. I glance at the second barrel. It’s lying on its side.

  Tipped over.

  We leave the arena. I pull Dilly to a trot. She’s breathing hard. So am I. I pat her neck. “You did great.” She twitches her ears. Lowers her head. She knows she made a mistake. Now I hear the crowd. The announcer. He says my time. But it doesn’t register. I don’t care. The five-second penalty just killed me.

  Amy trots over. I don’t want to talk to her. Don’t want to deal with anything right now. I turn Dilly toward the trailer. Replay the race in my head. Think about what I should have done. How I should have taken that turn.

  “Jade!” Amy calls. Then she’s next to me. “Even with the penalty, you came in fourth. You posted a fast time.”

  I shake my head. It doesn’t matter. I made a mistake. Knocked over a barrel. Fourth means nothing.

  Chapter 17

  I need to get back,” Amy says. “Wait for the awards presentation. I came in second.”

  I’m silent. Don’t feel like congratulating her again.

  She hesitates a moment. Pulls Elvis away.

  I near the trailer. Jump down. Lead Dilly the rest of the way. No one’s here. Jesse must be waiting his turn to bull ride. It’s the last event. Then the closing ceremony. Awards presentation. I’d rather not see any of it. I know that’s petty. But I’d been counting on this. Barrel racing was the one good thing in my life. The one thing that was mine. That I was good at. My stepping-stone to better things.

  Mr. McNair may not want me messing with his horse. But I’m not going to leave Dilly untended. I tie her to the trailer. Remove my saddle. Bridle. I want to give her a good brushing. Don’t see any supplies. I try the door to the trailer. It’s unlocked. Mr. McNair will kill Jesse for not locking up. I step inside. Leave the door open for light. Hunt around. Find a grooming bucket in a cabinet. Turn to go.

  Amy is standing in the doorway.

  “I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m sorry you lost. I’m sorry we didn’t loan you a better horse. I’ve been a crappy friend. I missed you, Jade.”

  I set the bucket on the floor. Step toward her. Look her in the eyes. She holds my gaze. I reach out. Take her face in my hands. Press my lips against hers. Softly. She doesn’t shy away. She kisses me back. We kiss deeper. More urgently. We’re both hungry. Starving. I melt. I sizzle. I have wanted this for so long.

  We’re still kissing. Breathing hard. She pushes me away. “What are you doing?”

  I stare at her shocked face. Her pink cheeks. “What am I doing?”

  She slaps me. Hard. I bring my hand to my face.

  “You’re awful! You’re disgusting!” She’s crying now. Tears stream down her cheeks. “I should have known this would happen.” She storms out of the trailer. “You’re going to hell, Jade.”

  I’m still touching my cheek. She jumps on Elvis. Gallops away. A movement catches my eye. A red plaid shirt. White sneakers. They disappear behind a trailer. Oh no. Mike. The door was open. How much did he see? Enough. Or he wouldn’t be walking away. I rush down the steps. “Mike!”

  I catch up to him. He’s just leaving the parking lot. Striding toward home.

  “Mike!” I call again. I step in front of him. Grab his arms. He stops. Looks away. Oh God. He’s crying.

  “No need to explain,” he says. “I get it.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He pulls his arms away. “Why did you lie to me?”

  “Do you remember when you first asked me out? I told you I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend. Just a friend.”

  “But you let it keep going. You led me on.”

  “I know. I shouldn’t have. You don’t know what it’s like. To be what I am. Here. In Wyatt. I’m alone, Mike. Totally alone. You don’t get it. Amy doesn’t get it. My family doesn’t get it. No one gets it. I just wanted to be normal. For a little while.” Now I’m crying.

  “And you chose me as your chump.”

  “No. You chose me. And I took advantage of you. Again, I’m sorry. But I’m not sorry I got to know you. You’ve been a good friend, Mike. A really good friend. You’ve helped me get through this school year. I so wish things could have been different.”

  “Me too.” He glances at my neck. I touch the necklace. He meets my eyes. “Like you wouldn’t believe.” He walks away. Doesn’t look back.

  I force myself not to follow him.

  I stand there a moment. Listen to the crowd cheering in the arena. Bull riding must have just ended. They announce the closing ceremonies. I wipe my eyes. Quickly jog back to the trailer. Grab my saddle. Press my head against Dilly’s shoulder. “Sorry I didn’t brush you. I can’t be here when your owners get back.”

  Another thing I’m sorry about? My truck is parked in front of Mike’s house. I take my time walking. My saddle weighs a ton by the time I get there. Thankfully, I don’t see Mike. Or his family.

  I drive down Main Street on the way to the highway. Past the 77 Bar. Dad is staggering out. Seth and Toby stumble out behind him. Part of me is glad they didn’t see my race. A bigger part hates them for it.

  Chapter 18

  I drive to the ranch. My mind is numb. So is my body.

  I pull up next to the stable. Put my tack away. Feed the horses. Water them. Walk into the house.

  It’s close to five. Mom will be calling in an hour. The guys are probably on their way home. They’ll expect dinner before six.

  I sit at the kitchen table. Press my forehead in my hands. Can’t think. I’m only conscious of how empty I feel. Hollowed out.

  If Mom could reach through the computer and hug me, I’d stay. But she can’t. And when she finds out what I am, she won’t want to.

  I go to my room. Reach under my bed. Pull out my rifle. A box of ammo. Grab a jacket. Head to the stable. Check Freddie’s ankle. It’s not swollen. Or warm. I don’t have the okay from Doc Dot. But I won’t ride him hard. I’ve done enough hard riding today. I need my horse.

  I brush him. Sling the rifle over my shoulder. Jump on bareback. Ride him east. Toward Evan’s Lake. We get to Rattlesnake Hill. Freddie knows what I want. He knows the lake is not our destination. He goes straight up. I grip hard with my legs. Grab hold of his mane so I don’t slide off. Up and up. We get to the top.

  I stare down at the beautiful McNair house. At the beautiful horses trying to graze on the short spring grass. I wait. And wait. T
he air turns cold. I slip on my jacket. The truck pulls in. Towing the matching horse trailer. Jesse gets out. Then beautiful Mr. and Mrs. McNair. And beautiful Amy. She’s wearing her gold rodeo queen sash. Over her riding clothes. She’s carrying something in her hand. A glint of silver in the sunlight. Probably her runner-up award. A belt and buckle.

  I don’t know what she wanted from me. I don’t know. I don’t know. She’d flirted. Modeling that dress. Blowing me a kiss from the float. And then in her trailer. If she hadn’t met my eyes, I never would have tried. If she’d stepped back. If she’d said no. If she’d pushed me away. But she was there. Willing. Wanting. Just. As much. As me.

  Maybe she’s gay. Maybe she’s crazy. Maybe she’ll tell on me this time. She seemed mad enough. Maybe Mike will tell on me. He seemed mad enough too. Maybe my life is over. I think it is.

  Jesse starts unloading the horses. The McNairs head for the house. Amy walks behind her parents. She reaches the porch. Stops. Glances up at Rattlesnake Hill. Like she senses me here. She finds me. Stares a long second. Lowers her eyes. Disappears inside the house.

  I send Freddie down the hill. But not for home. It’s still light out. Will be for a while yet. We ride about twenty minutes. To the base of another hill. Our makeshift gun range. I dismount. Tie Freddie to a post. Unsling my rifle.

  I load ammo. Start firing. Aim at what’s still up there from whoever shot here last. Cans. Broken jars. Bottles. When those are gone, I shoot at shrubs. Rocks. I shoot. And shoot. And shoot.

  I shoot until my shoulder is sore. My ears are ringing. The sun is setting.

  I check the ammo box. Two cartridges left.

  I load them. Sit on the ground. Lay the rifle across my lap. Listen to the breeze brush through last year’s brown dead grass. A bird calls. A fly buzzes near my ear.

  I should think about this. Think about the consequences. But I’m so tired of lying. Tired of pretending. I don’t want to do it anymore. It’s better this way. Better for my family. They’ll never have to know. Or if they find out, I won’t be around to shame them. It’s better for Amy. She’ll never have to see me again. Mike will get over me. Move on. Which was what I always wanted for him. He’s a great guy.