Country Girl at Heart

Chapter 3

A knock at my door wakes me up. The old school alarm clock next to my bed reads that it's midnight, so I don't know who could possibly be on the other side of that door right now. Ali's face is the last I expect to see. She's standing in the hallway fully dressed with hair and makeup done.
I glance down the hall to make sure she's alone. "What are you doing?"
She holds her finger to her lips, pushing past into my room. I shut the door, put my hands on my hips, and wait for her to explain what the hell is going on.
"Nice sheets." She almost cracks a catty smile but I can see she chooses to keep it to herself.
Good.
"Are you going to tell me what you want or do you like to wake people up in the middle of the night for fun?" I ask.
"There's a bonfire tonight. A bunch of us are goin'. Thought I'd see if you wanna come." She looks me up and down. "You'll have to wear somethin' besides that."
"I didn't peg you as the sneaking out type."
"Surprise." She taunts me with her eyebrows.
I'm not sure what to do with this. On one hand, a bonfire sounds like fun. But I'm literally on probation. The whole point in me coming here is to stay out of trouble. It makes me wonder if she's trying to set me up or something.
"If I get caught sneaking out after curfew, where I assume everyone will be drinking, I'll be screwed. How do I know I can trust you?"
She shrugs nonchalantly. "How do I know I can trust you to not run and tattle when I leave?"
"You don't."
"Then there we go, mutual levels of trust. Besides, I don't take you for the type of girl to narc on a party. You might see it as an opportunity to expand your sales, if you know what I mean."
I should jump across this room and ring her neck for assuming such bullshit. "You don't know me."
"Exactly. That's why tonight'll be good for us. Come to the bonfire and we can see how the next few weeks are gonna play out." She steps forward, crossing her arms over her white tank top. "Unless you're scared."
Her challenging demeanor excites me. We seem similar in that way, but I'm not willing to completely open up yet. There's still something about her that screams 'snake'. Just the way she's looking at me like she's better than I am makes me want to prove her wrong. "Fine, I'll go. Give me a few minutes to get ready, then I'll meet you downstairs."

•••

The bonfire ends up being in the middle of some random cornfield, which I'm sure is the definition of a fire hazard. They seem to think plowing away a few yards worth of rows is taking enough precaution but it's not even close. I swear if I get caught up for arson too, I'll never be able to move back home.
"Are you sure this is safe?" I don't like sounding like a nagging mom, but come on.
Ali scoffs, continuing to stomp away a path in front of us with her ginormous boots. "Have you never been to a bonfire before?"
"In the middle of a flammable cornfield?" I struggle to step over the dirt mounds in booties. "No."
"It'll be fine, we do it almost every weekend. Don't be such a priss."
"Excuse me for being worried about a bunch of drunk teenagers burning down the whole town."
She glares back at me. "We're a lot smarter than you think."
I roll my eyes when she turns around, not wanting to get into it with her. I'm on her territory, about to meet her friends. I need to reel back the attitude before I know what I'm getting myself into. She was right, tonight will be a tell-tell-all for how the rest of my stay will go. I need to play nice until I figure that out.
When we step through an opening to everyone, I'm dumbfounded, and, I regret my outfit choice. Apparently checkered button ups and flannels are very much a thing here. I figured the thrift shop was geared more toward the older people I saw, but it seems just about every teenager in this town dresses that way too.
I follow Ali to a few girls who are sitting on top of a cooler. They're sipping on Coors and Bud Light. Gag. Their shorts are cut so high I can see way more than I need to, or anyone can for that matter. Work boots seem to be the theme, making the few girls wearing cowboy boots look more sophisticated, if that's even possible. All in all, I stand out with my skinny jeans and band tee.
"Hey ya'll." Ali cracks a beer the second she meets them, turning to bring the focus to me. "This is Lexi. She's the one I was telling ya'll about."
I don't think I've ever been judged so hard in my life. But that's okay, because I don't care what anyone who drinks Bud Light thinks of me.
     Ali points one by one starting with the brassy box dye blonde on the left to the fake red head with three inch black roots on the right. "This is Jessica and Lyla."
     "You're from New York, right?" Lyla has a thicker accent than anyone I've met so far. "I've always wondr'd what those big skyscrapers look like. We don't have those 'round here."
     "We don't have much of anythin' 'round here." Jessica chugs some of her drink, looking at me. "Wanna beer?"
     "Thanks, but no. I'm not drinking."
     "Why not?"
     "'Cause she got an MIC or somethin' like that." Lyla says in a low tone, as if she knows she shouldn't bring it up but doesn't care enough not to.
     Jessica looks at me. "That right? I heard it was drugs."
     I blink away the massive eye roll I want to throw at her for being so rude, smiling politely instead. "None of it was mine."
     "Who's was it then?"
     "I wish I knew."
     "So you were in the wrong place at the wrong time?"
     "Pretty much."
     Ali grabs another beer. "I don't get how you got away with it."
     "I didn't." I look around. "I'm here, aren't I?"
     "Exactly. You should be sittin' in a jail cell. How'd you manage to luck out with this?"
     "My mom's husband is an attorney. And no offense but, this is just as much of a punishment."
     "You think workin' on a ranch is as bad as jail?" she scoffs. "You really are stuck up. No offense."
     A sarcastic laugh explodes out of me. "None taken." Does she really think I'd be offended by that? I'd take being a stuck up city girl over a redneck, hill billy cowgirl any day.
     "Ooo, Ali." Jessica nods her head to something across the fire. "Look who's here."
     I follow their gazes to a group of guys shot gunning beers. They're rowdy and laughing hysterically. I wonder what the guys here are like, seeing as the girls are close to unbearable.
     Now I'm curious. "You have a boyfriend?" I ask.
     "She wishes!" The other two laugh wickedly.
     "Shut up." Ali shoots them a heavy glare.
Lyla snorts like one of Wren's pigs. He calls her Gertrude, she's known to be loud and guttural. "Ali's smitten by my brother's friend. She tried to talk to him the beginnin'a summer when he showed up but he said he ain't here'ta date."
     "He's too busy being Wren's ranch hand."
     Wait... is she talking about who I think she's talking about?
     "It's too bad. You two'd make a perfect couple," Jessica remarks.
     "Who is he?" I wonder, even though I have a pretty good idea.
     "You see the guy on the right? That's Dawson Priest."
     I find him immediately, wondering how I didn't  notice before, because, well... he's kind of hard to miss. I don't blame Ali for being into him. From the looks of it these girls have pretty slim pickings. He'd be any one of their first choice. "What's his story?"
     "He's here to work for the summer."
     "Where's he from?"
     "Vernon. His dad makes him work the ranch every summer."
     "Hm." I watch him shot gun a beer, suddenly finding the act a little less redneck and a lot more attractive.
     "My brother there says he's serious 'bout his work. But I think Ali's gotta shot." Lyla stands on top of the cooler to yell, "Hey! Dawson!"
"Lyla!" Ali scolds. "Why'd you do that?"
"'Cause I'm not gonna let you be chicken shit!"
We all watch as he looks over, searching our faces through the smoke. Him and I make eye contact and my insides go loose when he smiles because he recognizes me. I smile back, not being able to help it. He's such a heart throb. Especially in that flannel of his. He may be the only person I ever lay eyes on who can actually pull one off.
He gives me a slight wave, which draws the breaths' out of the girls.
"Who's he wavin' to?" Jessica whispers. "Oh my god, is it you, Ali?"
I don't have the heart to tell her that she is not who he's waving too. No matter how much we butt heads, I can admit that would be embarrassing. But I also can't leave him hanging... Heat trickles up my cheeks as I wave before turning back to try and pretend like it's no big deal.
"Wait." Ali turns to me. "You know him?"
I shrug."We just met today."
"Why'd you pretend to not know him then?"
"I don't know him."
Lyla scoffs. "Sure'ya don't."
Jessica adds, "Why's he wavin' to you if you don't know each other?"
"I have no idea. Why is it such a big deal?"
"Because Ali already laid claim on him. We just got done tellin' you that."
Okay, I need to shut this down before they think they'll be able to walk all over me from now on. "What you just got done telling me, is that she shot her shot a few weeks ago and he wasn't into it. So pretty sure there's no 'claim'. And I don't know why you're so threatened, Ali. You said he made it clear he's here to work."
She lifts her nose in the air with arrogance. "I guess neither of us should get our hopes up."
"Don't worry, I wasn't planning on it."
"Good."
"Okay, then. Glad that's settled." I half laugh. "I'm so over this." I do my best to walk away without looking like a complete fool by tripping through the dirt.
"You leavin'?" Ali yells after me. "You don't know how to get back!"
"Well!" I turn around, noticing the amount of attention our outburst has drawn. "I guess I'll just have to figure it out!"
     I stalk through a row in frustration, not able to get over how horrible those girls are. And trashy. They're way trashy. I needed to get away from them before I say something I regret. I tend to make rash decisions when faced with extreme emotions. Only a few yards into the field and I regret this particular one completely. It's dark as hell in here. I honestly do not know how I'm going to find my way back. And I swear I hear someone coming up from behind-
"Howdy."
I jump around with frightened anticipation, expecting some sort of mutated corn monster with sharp teeth and claws. Instead, I'm embraced by strong, calloused hands. They wrap around my shoulders to stop me from running away. Now I'm inches from Dawson's face, relaxing into his arms the second I realize it's him.
"H-howdy," I say, breathless.
His smile reaches every corner of his face in the best way possible. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare ya. You okay there?"
I snap back to life, straightening out of his grasp. "I'm okay now. What are you doing?"
"I saw you come in here alone, figured someone should walk you home before you get lost, or eaten by coyotes."
I swallow my fear. "Good idea. I definitely can't fend off a pack of coyotes by myself. Especially in these shoes."
He gives me a short laugh that warms my core. "Don't you own a pair of cowboy boots or somethin'?"
"I bought work boots today, but I wasn't about to wear them infront of anyone."
"Why not? Everyone else does."
"Exactly." I make a worried face at how casual he thinks that is. "I prefer booties."
"So you're tellin' me you don't like my look?"
I accept his invitation to check him out, so that I do. The flannel fits well, wranglers hang from his hips with a belt and his boots are worn in and muddy. The backwards fishing hat would be the worst part but the way the tips of his hair stick out just enough to frame his face distracts me from it. Anyone else and I'd immediately be appalled, but on him...
"Hm." I look up through my lashes. "Maybe it's not so bad after all."
He doesn't shy away from my forwardness, holding my gaze instead. We're surrounded by darkness but I can see his intensity shine bright as day.
I like this.
A lot.
    "Ya know, it'll take us twice as long to get home in those things. You should take 'em off."
     I look to the ground under my feet. "You want me to walk in the dirt?"
     His smile is wry. "You better get used to dirt if you're gonna be workin' on your daddy's farm. And hay. And mud. Oh and definitely shit. Lots of shit."
     I laugh at his playfulness. "How much shit?"
     "Loads of shit. Just mounds and mounds of steamin' piles of shit."
     Now we're both laughing.
     "Oh my god, stop! I didn't even think about that."
     "They probably don't have any of it in the city."
     "How do you know I'm from the city?"
     "Take your shoes off and I'll tell ya," he says with a mischievous grin.
     I roll my eyes with a pout but squat down and take them off, mooshing the dirt with my bare feet. "There. Happy now?"
     He takes my shoes by the loops and lets them hang by his side. "Now we can go."
     "I can carry my shoes on my own, thank you very much."
     "I don't doubt that one bit. I'm just tryin' to show you some southern hospitality."
     I appreciate him recognizing that I'm perfectly capable, yet he wants to help anyway. "You must be a true southern gentleman, huh?"
     "Just a guy tryin' to walk a girl home is all." He gestures forward. "After you."
     "Okay." I start to walk, pushing aside the longer stalk leaves blocking the narrow path. "You got me barefoot. Now you have to answer my question."
"I heard about you 'cause it's a small town."
"Things travel fast?" I repeat Ali's words. "Everyone knows everyone?"
"Unfortunately."
      I clear my throat. "That must mean you know the reason I'm here, too."
"I know the rumors."
"How do you know they're rumors and I didn't really do it?"
"I like to make my own judgments of people."
I twirl in his direction to walk backwards while I say, "What do you think so far?"
He's walking close, reaching over to block the leaves from hitting me in the back of the head. "I'm still figurin' that out."
"Well let me know what I can do to sway your bias in my favor."
"You've already done that." His eyes travel down my legs. "Walkin' barefoot and all."
"Looks like I'm off to a good start then." I twirl forward, swaying my hips more than usual. "What else can I do?"
A low chuckle rushes the back of my neck, giving me goosebumps. "You seem like the type'a girl who can figure that out on her own."
A sheepish grin takes over my face. "You're right, I can. I guess we have our work cut out for us. You have to figure out who I am and I need to learn all the ways to impress a cowboy."
"I'm sure we'll know all that by the end of your time here."
I like how that sounds. "What makes you think that?"
"Seein' as we'll be workin' together sometimes I reckon we'll get to know each other fairly well."
"Hm." I haven't thought of it like that yet. Working on Wren's ranch for a whole month used to sound treacherous. Even when I first met Dawson and learned he'll be around I still couldn't get over the fact that I have to do manual labor. I've been looking at it all wrong though, because I get to work with him. Never did I think I'd come here and meet some boy. Not that I plan on falling madly in love... but a sexy, summer fling might be just what I need.
     We step out through an opening a few minutes later. I turn to face him, wondering where we go next.
     "Your dad's is right ahead if you follow this down."
     "Thanks for walking me home." I take my shoes from him. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Don't forget your shit shovelin' outfit," he grins at his own joke.
     I laugh with him. "We'll see what I can put together."
     "Alright then. Goodnight, Lexi." He gives me a slight wave before turning and walking the opposite direction.
      I wait until he's out of earshot because the, "Goodnight, Dawson," that I whisper to myself sounds too desperate to be heard by anyone else.