Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 112903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
She tilts her head. “I’m here to get you drunk. Obviously.”
“Off my own liquor?” Now I’m grinning, too, despite the emotion clogging my windpipe.
Sally dropped everything to be here.
She dropped everything for me.
Her eyes dance as they search my face. “I know you have some hidden around here somewhere.”
“I do.” I reach for the handle and open the door. “Your exams—please don’t tell me you—”
“Got them moved to next week on account of the major family emergency my best friend is having. Yup.”
I climb into the truck and pull the door shut behind me. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Nah.” She playfully lifts a shoulder before pulling on the gearshift to put the truck in drive. “But I did, so now you have to tell me where your stash is.”
“Usual spot.” I point in the direction of the hay barn.
We’re quiet as the truck bumps over the uneven road. The rifle John B keeps tucked underneath the front bench clanks against the heel of my boot. I reach down and carefully set it farther back so that it stays put.
For a minute, I feel normal again. I can pretend life is the same as it was a year ago. Sally’s here. It’s Friday night. We’re gonna get buzzed and listen to music and talk shit about our high-school teachers. Life is simple. A little boring, sure, but good overall.
I can’t stop looking at her. I’ve missed this girl like crazy. Just being with her, not even talking—neither of us feels the need to fill the silence—makes me feel safe. Like I can finally relax.
Finally let my guard down.
She drives to the back of the barn. I jump out of the truck and dig a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s and a pack of Marlboros out from underneath the seat of Dad’s old tractor.
My chest twists. He was alive when I hid my stash here last weekend.
Now he’s not, and I don’t know how to process that. Accept it. Because I refuse to believe the strongest, biggest, most capable man I know could die in the snap of a finger, just like that.
Sniffling, I don’t bother to hide my tears as I climb back into the truck, the cigarettes tucked inside my pocket, the whiskey held underneath my arm.
Placing the whiskey between my knees, I wait for Sally to put the truck in drive again.
Instead, she turns to me and wraps me in a tight, warm bear hug. It ain’t the polite kind of hug I’ve shared this week with people like Lollie and Reverend Ford.
This hug is fierce—her face buried in my shoulder, her arms clasped around my neck. I can smell the flowery scent of her lotion, the same kind she’s used for as long as I can remember.
Anyone else hugged me this way, it’d be awkward.
With Sally, it’s just what I need.
I open the floodgates and let out the sob I’ve been holding for…Christ, feels like forever.
“I’m so sorry, Wyatt.” Her raspy voice is muffled against my shirt. “So, so sorry. I haven’t stopped thinking about you or your brothers. I love you, and I feel—my God, I’m hurting so much for y’all. I love you. I love you. I love you.”
I cry harder. Part of me is embarrassed to lose it like this. Tears and snot are everywhere.
Sally, though, just tightens her grip on me. I cry, and she cries, and we hold each other for what feels like a small eternity in the front seat of her daddy’s truck.
Outside the open windows, birds chirp, and a breeze rattles the yellowing leaves on the giant old oaks that border a nearby pasture. A cow lows in the distance. The earthy smell of hay fills the air.
I don’t get how the world can be the same as it ever was, but life as I know it is over. Dad is gone. Mom is gone, and now I’m struggling to figure out what the hell I’ll do without her.
When I’m finally able to breathe again, I pull back, sopping up tears with the pad of my thumb. “Sorry.”
“Stop that shit.” Sally wipes her eyes too. “Cry all you want with me. I promise I’m not going anywhere—mostly because you’re the one with the liquor and I need a drink after my long-ass drive.”
I let out a bark of laughter. “Using and abusing your best friend? Shameful.”
“Told you college wouldn’t change me.”
I laugh again, my heart swelling to fill my chest. At home, I make everybody else laugh. Nice change of pace to be the one laughing.
Having a good time feels so effortless when I’m with her. I don’t have to put on a show or pretend to be something I’m not.
I can be myself, be a mess, and she won’t bat an eye.
Speaking of messes, my nose is running. I wipe it on my sleeve, but that doesn’t help much.