Part 18 (2/2)

”Looks that way.”

”Leave him alone, Tab, he's a good kid.”

”He don't look like no kid to me.”

With a soundless chuckle, I grab my coat from the bar stool and put it on.

”You're leaving?” Holly asks.

”Yeah, I'll talk to you later. I need to think,” I say before heading toward the door.

”You sure it's thinking you need, stud,” Tabitha says. ”'Cause if it's something else, well, I'd be happy to oblige.”

I come to a dead stop.

”You interested?”

This is why I don't come to bars and this is why I don't drink. Because I do things impulsively.

”Falco,” Holly exclaims. ”Get your brain outta your d.i.c.k. Tabitha, he's not gonna be one of your wh.o.r.es tonight.”

I walk out the door and shake it off.

On my way up Pompton Road, Holly's white Mercedes pulls up next to me. ”Get the h.e.l.l in.”

I do.

”Why you walking? You could have just waited for me.”

”I told you. I needed to think. Besides, good thing I didn't stay. I might have taken Tabitha up on her offer.”

”What? No. You don't want Tabitha, she has major problems. Besides, you want Rose, don't you?”

”Of course I do. I just meant for tonight.”

”Guys. You think with your d.i.c.ks, I swear.”

”Make a left,” I spit out.

”Oh. You live up here?” she asks, making the turn.

”Yup. The big house on the left.”

”Nice. The whole team lives here?”

”Most of us. Thanks, Holly.” I open the car door and get out.

”No prob. Let me know how tomorrow goes.”

”'Kay. Bye.”

Tomorrow never goes.

Sat.u.r.day morning, I get a text.

She's canceled.

21.

ROSE.

I'm a chicken. I belong on Daddy's farm.

I text Ben I'm not feeling well and will have to take a rain check. He knows it's a lie. His text back is a mere, ”Okay.”

My heart is disappointed, my brain doesn't care. The thing about tonight? It would've been a date. If it went well, which I surmise it would have, we'd go on a second date. Soon, we'd be dating regularly. And besides all that what's-he-doing-with-who-at-school-without-me c.r.a.p, dating leads to s.e.x.

The first time having s.e.x with me would be Ben's last time having s.e.x with me. Sure, there's the option of doing it in the dark, but when his hand explored my body, there'd be a huge chunk missing. Dark or not, his imagination would see what I don't want him to see.

I'm not ready.

Not now.

Life on the farm is monotonous. Growing up, it was fun. School always came first, my mother made sure of that, but our ch.o.r.es had to get done. Since most of our friends' parents worked regular jobs and had no access to horses and cows and farm life, it was exciting for them to come over after school and ride - horses, tractors, whatever was ride-able. It made me proud. And once I went away to college, because I'd be away from it for chunks at a time, I treasured the weekends I'd come home to help Daddy.

Now it's all I do.

And it makes me sad.

Since the day I canceled on him, Ben stopped texting me - I deserve it.

Part of me wishes he would have fought harder, but why should he? He can have anyone he wants.

Holly texts me a few times a week, but she's been too busy with school, work, and her relations.h.i.+p with Mick to get into any real conversation. Not that I'd open up. I don't do that anymore.

I'm so bored that I pull my dancing leg out of the box again. I don't know why, I just do. I start touching it. Again. It's so foreign. With my hand, I bend the foot at the ankle...back and forth...side to side; it actually moves effortlessly, unlike the one I'm wearing, which is more rigid in its motions. I stare at it for G.o.d-knows how long, but that just makes me mad.

Why? Why can't things be simple? What's Your purpose for doing this to me? I just don't understand.

I stare at this thing that's now in my hands, and I curse it. Loudly. Then I put it back in its box. Again.

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