Country Girl at Heart

Chapter 6

Of course, I have no choice but to go. I don't care what happens as long as I get to hang out with Dawson again. The way he looks at the world fascinates me. I can't get enough of it.
I fidget all over the place until noon and then run down the steps at full speed. His truck pulls up right on time. It's a burnt orange single cab Chevy, one of the older models but I don't know much about cars. I do know he looks damn good behind the wheel. The windows are down and his Rayban shape sunglasses are more than appealing.
He whistles as I get in. "Woo-ey, city girl. You look good."
   I notice his laid back beach vibe. "You don't look too bad yourself."
     It probably took two seconds to throw those trunks and button up on. Although he forgot to actually button the shirt. I on the other hand shaved my entire body twice, plucked my eyebrows and French braided my hair. All before trying on about 4 different suits and cut off short combinations. I ended up deciding on the bright red, high waisted bikini and dark denim, not bothering to grab a cover up, just a bag to carry all the beach essentials. Or should I say waterhole essentials?
He blasts a country station and sings along the entire time. Everyone in NYC despises country music. In the right setting, it doesn't seem so bad.
     The waterhole is tucked back in the middle of nowhere, in between... drum roll, please... two corn fields! I swear I'll never be able to look at corn the same after this. It's everywhere.
     "I got that." He reaches for my bag. "And yes, I know you don't need no guy to hold your things."
     He read my mind.
     As we walk up, I realize he was right, it is the same people from the other night. Ali, Lyla, and Jessica, are huddled together, sitting on a few fold out chairs. Even from behind, I can tell they're already gossiping.
Ugh. Here we go.
Their heads turn simultaneously when we pass, but I don't bother looking over and having another death glare match. My mom always taught me that confidence is quiet and insecurity is loud. So I'm going to keep my mouth shut and go on with my day like she doesn't exist.
     We find a spot to put our stuff.
I notice a tractor driving up in the distance. "What's that for?"
     "Oh, that?" His eyes squint as he grins. "It's for tractor jumpin'."
     "Tractor jumping?"
     "It's kinda like the redneck version of cliff jumpin'."
     "Wow. And I thought I'd seen it all."
     "You're gonna jump with me."
     My first instinct is to tell him there's no way I'm doing that, I mean, they didn't even clean it. But the look he's giving makes it impossible to say no.
I slide my shorts off and fling them at him before yelling like a child, "Last one in is a rotten egg!"
He drops his hat, glasses, and shirt within seconds, sprinting after me, catching up much too quick, scooping me in his arms tight and jumping into the water. We come up for air laughing harder than we should be. Everyone is staring at us because of the commotion, but it feels like it's just us in here.
That is, until a few guys at the tractor call Dawson over. The second he says he'll be right back is when I feel the scrutiny. I swallow my insecurities and sit on the edge of the bank. Plush grass acts as a pillow so I stay here and watch him from afar. It looks like the other guys need him to maneuver the tractor into the right position. He steps up and man handles the machine like it's no big deal.
I see people come over from the corner of my eye, catching Ali, tweedle dee, and tweedle dum (I'm hilarious) taking a seat on the edge a few feet away. Ignoring them the best I can, I force my focus to stay on Dawson, who's now getting lifted into the air by the front loader. He connects his gaze to mine and waves from the top.
I sit up taller to wave back, then laugh as he does a back flip into the water. I allow myself a sneak peek to the right, because seeing they're faces right now will be priceless. All three of them are glaring at me. I bite my tongue to stop confrontation but it's impossible to keep quiet. "Do you have a problem?" I glare back.
"Didn't think I'd see you here today," Ali snarks.
"Did I forget to give you a permission slip? Dawson asked me to come."
"Do you not remember anything we said the other night?"
"Oh, I do. I just don't care. I don't owe you anything. And it's not my fault he doesn't want you."
"You're such a-"
"Bitch?" I smirk. "You're going to have to come up with something better than that to hurt my feelings, Alabama."
Steam practically shoots from her ears before she turns to her friends, clearly annoyed that I've won. Hopefully she understands I will keep winning. It's in my nature to get what I want. Maybe that's the deep rooted city life in me, or maybe I can just be the biggest brat sometimes. Either way, I'm over this.
I go back to where we set our stuff. Dawson is lifting himself out of the water, heading this way.     
     Thank god.
As fate would have it, Ali and her minions (this is getting fun), just so happen to walk by at the same time. They stop to look down at me, like the mean girls they are. Ali is at the point of the triangle, looking like she wants to destroy something. Namely: me.
"We've got a better one." She looks back at each of her friends with an evil eye.
"Drug dealer." Lyla spits, then joins her friends in snickering at my expense.
All of the blood drains from my face, so livid at what she just called me.
Before I can say anything, Dawson comes up from behind. He says, "Everythin' alright over here?"
The girls are caught off guard, quick to shut their mouths and look as innocent as they can. As if they weren't just trying to tear me down.
"Hi Dawson!" Ali chippers up. "I saw that back flip you did off the tractor. It was pretty impressive."
"Thanks." He reaches his hand out for me. "Lexi? You wanna jump off the tractor with me?"
I accept his tractor proposal by taking his hand so he can pull me up. Instead of letting go, he keeps hold of our grasp. I know he's only doing it to get Ali to back off but I'm pretty sure this is only going to make it worse. Even with that knowledge, I still have to hold back the proud grin I feel coming on. I know for a fact this is his southern gentlemanly way of telling her to back off.
It's interesting because we aren't even a thing. We've only been hanging out. Obviously there is a certain level of attractiveness and on occasion a small sexual frustration, from my part anyway, but he's taking it upon himself to make a point to the girls who pine after him. He's saying he's only interested in one girl. The feeling of being that girl elates me to another dimension. I'm not sure exactly what this means but I will definitely stay to find out.
"You know she sells drugs, right?" Ali bursts. "She was arrested and should be in juvie. You really think you should be associating yourself with that, Dawson?"
I pride myself on having a hard outer layer, but it feels like her words go right through me, leaving a gaping, bloody hole. She's laying out all my dirty laundry for everyone to see, and that sucks. Assuming everyone has heard the rumors is one thing but having it confirmed right in front of you is a lot to take on.
"I didn't take you for the ignorant type," he says to her, "but I'm glad I didn't find out the hard way. Come on, Lexi."
Any other day and I would be throwing his comments in her face with a competitive smirk, but I avoid eye contact and pad through the grass by his side. He doesn't let go of my hand until he has to help me climb into the loader.
"On the count of three." He takes my hand again and counts down.
I plug my nose and tuck my legs into a cannonball, plunging into the waterhole. I try and let the suction pull out the poison Ali shot into me, not wanting to feel this down the rest of the day.
My shield heals just enough to come up for air. I find Dawson wading in front of me, running his hand through his hair to get it out of his eyes. That gesture alone fixes my mood right up.
"That was epic!" He smiles wide, swimming backward.
"It was alright. Not as good as cliff jumping."
He splashes me. "You are the hardest girl to please, ya know that?"
    Ha! "Maybe that's why I can never hold down a relationship for longer than a month."
"I'm sure you have boys lined up around every corner, just waitin' for their chance."
"I could say the same for you."
     His frame becomes serious. "You shouldn't let those girls get to you. Whatever they said, it's not at all true."
I roll my eyes, continuing to follow him to the furthest end of the hole. "Some of it is."
"You and I both know it's bullshit. I meant what I said to her. She's ignorant. All of 'em are."
"I guess." I sigh. "By the way, you don't have to pretend just for me. I know you're here to focus on work."
His head tilts to the right. "Who said that?"
"Ali did. She said you told her you didn't come here to meet a girl."
"Well now look who's startin' to believe rumors."
"Wait so, you never told her that?"
"Nope."
"What the hell?" She must have made it up to keep me away. Or because she couldn't handle everyone knowing she was flat out rejected. I guess I have to take what they tell me with a grain of salt from now on because this is the second time they've fooled me.
     "That doesn't mean I didn't meet a girl." He dunks under the water, giving me a chance to take on the weight of his words. His hair is slicked back when he comes up again. "Do you have a boy waitin' for you back home?"
     "What would you say if I did?"
     "That you should forget all about him and spend the summer hangin' out with me."
     "I think it's already been established that that's exactly what I'll be doing." I play along with his antics. "I mean, you've already got me to jump off a tractor into a waterhole. And taught me how to ride a horse. You'll probably end up showing me the entire countryside."
     "I can do that." He bobs in the water. "By the time I'm done with you, you won't want to go back. You'll be a full on country girl."
     "Hey, I didn't say I want it to be my favorite place in the world." I mess with him.
     "Funny, I'd say that it's mine."
     "That's because you've never seen anything other than these cornfields and the same few faces you're entire life. Trust me, there's so much out there to see."
     "What's your favorite place in the world, then?"
     "Easy. Paris. It was forever romantic. But then again, Thailand was where I felt the most free. But," I think, "New York is just so... New York. There's nothing like it. So probably the city."
     "Tell me about it. What's a summer in the city like?"
     I go on to explain the ins and outs of being a New Yorker. I describe time square, Central Park, China town, SoHo, the upper east side, the Hamptons, in great detail. He hears about the street vendors and amazing authentic food. About the world famous pizza and bagel shops. I help him picture Broadway and the rockettes. The roof top bars and clubs. How to hail a taxi and take the subway.
     Im watched in awe the entire time I'm talking.    
     Smiling.
     Laughing.
     Gasping.
     He doesn't interrupt one time. He sits on the edge of the waterhole and listens to every word. I'm pretty sure he doesn't know what half the things I refer to even mean yet doesn't skip a beat of excitement. He smiles ear to ear, causing me to falter every now and then when we lock in on each other for longer than necessary.
     "You make me feel like I'm missin' out on somethin' important," he says when I'm done.
     "You for sure are. When I get back you should come visit. You'd stick out like a sore thumb in your cowboy hat."
     "No more than you and those heels of yours."
     "They're called booties." I gape at him. "And I think they're cute."
     "Never said I didn't like 'em." He nudges me. "They may stand out but it's in a good way... trust me."
     "I'm gonna wear them to work tomorrow just for fun!"
"Tomorrow's Sunday," his tone gets serious, as if I'm missing something.
"What happens on Sunday's?"
"Wren likes to go to church, then eat out in town. Says Sunday's are for spendin' time with god and family."
"Jeez. I never understood organized religion. Blindly following in something you don't even know is there."
"Eh, it gives people hope. Organized religion or not, there is somethin' bigger than us out there." He leans back on his hands, looking up to the sky in wonder.
I lean back too, observing the slightly cloudy blue for the first time in forever. "Do you believe in God?"
"Sure do. In some form or the other. How else do you explain this." He nods to up above.
"I don't know. Either way it's pretty magnificent."
"Yes it is." His tone sounds closer. When I look, he's staring right at me. "I know you hate it here, but, I'm glad you've been sentenced to a punishment that requires you to spend the month with me."
     "Twenty seven more days, to be exact."
     "We better make 'em count then. We're already runnin' outta time."
     My mind explodes with the possibilities of where this is going. We've already been making it count, we just didn't know it mattered until this moment. "I think we're right on track."
     "I would say we can plan somethin' for tomorrow but there's no way Wren will let you outta service."
     I scoff. "Please, I would never be caught dead in a church. There's no way he's making me do that. I don't even own a dress appropriate enough to wear. Unless he wants to see me in a little black dress with spaghetti straps and a thigh slit."
     He groans before sticking his tongue out to lick his lips. "I'd like to see that dress."
     My core temperature rises. "Find somewhere appropriate for me to wear it and you just might."
     "I think I can handle that. But I'm tellin' you... Wren is a stubborn bastard when it comes to how his Sunday's should be spent."
     "Don't worry. I can handle him. I will not be spending my day off singing hyms and reading from the Bible." I hang my head back to look up at the clouds. "You'll see."