Hanging On

Scum

I skipped over to the old truck that I could see Tucker's feet sticking out from. "Hey." I chirped. He slid out from under the truck, and I gasped and looked away. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. His chest a dark smudge that appeared to be  oil from the truck. I tried to ignore the way the sun gleamed off the sweat on his lean chest, the way it almost made the scars look like they weren't there.

"I was  just, um, wondering if you wanted to, uh, go down to the brook." I stammered awkwardly. His gaze traveled up my legs and body, making me squirm a little, before he nodded. "Sure."

"Okay." I squeaked, then practically sprinted towards the stables.

Once down at the brook, I decided I didn't really want to get in the water. I sprawled out on the bank, shutting my eyes. the grass tickled my bare legs, as I had changed into shorts earlier that day, and the sunlight warmed my face. I opened one eye to see Tucker lying next to me, propped up on his elbows, watching me. I smiled at him, and he grinned back, making my heart to a little pitter patter in my chest. There was a change between us. I could feel it.

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“Yes, mom, we have lunch money." I said, irritated as I opened the door to the truck. She smiled. “I just wanted to check. You two be careful.” She said, holding my door for me. Tucker was already in the truck, and he nodded once to her. I looked at her blue eyes and gave her a tight hug. “Love you, mom.” I mumbled. She gave me one final squeeze before letting go. “I love you, too. Be care good!” she called as I shut the door and rolled my eyes. I flashed her one more smile before Tucker hit the gas and started driving down the road.

The past week had flown by in a blur, my mind focused on the upcoming trip with mixed emotions. Happy because I was spending a day without work with Tucker, confused because I felt that way, and sad, because it was my father’s birthday.

Tucker silently drove past the road, not even glancing at me. I appreciated it. I hated it when people constantly worried about me. There had been a lot of that, in the beginning.

I winced as we hit a bump, my head banging painfully off the window. I rubbed the back of my bed, and Tucker snickered. I glared at him, but he kept his eyes on the road. “What are you laughing at?” I grumbled, deciding to put my hair into a French braid, leaving my elbow dangerously close to Tucker’s face. He shook his head. “Nothing.” He said, still smirking. Even his smirk was attractive.

I sighed and threw my legs on the dash board, kicking my shoes off. I didn’t miss Tucker’s gaze travel down my legs, and I blushed as I rubbed self consciously at a bruise on my calf. I braided my hair, then laid my head back against the seat and shut my eyes. “Wake me up at lunch, will you?” I murmured, already tired. I heard Tucker chuckle, and took that as a yes, then let myself drift off to a peaceful sleep, for a change.

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“Swallow, bitch, swallow!” I screamed, shoving my sweater into my pig shaped back pack that I had brought along. Tucker rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’ll do it.” I scowled at him before zipping my bag back up. “You don’t appreciate him.” I said, causing Tucker to raise his eye brows. “The bag is a him?”

I nodded. “Yes, and he has feelings.” I said, unusually cheerful. Tucker took a turn onto along dirt road. “Alright, according to the map, his house is at the end of this.” I said, scanning the map. Tucker nodded thoughtfully, and I couldn’t wait to stretch my legs.