Hay Season

Chapter 2

Rylan

In my family, we never showed love. Nobody in my family really knew how to do it. It was an embarrassing thing to do in our house ~ Susan Sanford ~

Dewbridge, Mississippi, is a town that caters to the rich. Families like mine. I hate it. I hate the old money and the way that people look down on those beneath us. I hate how money can tear people apart or shift us to different social classes. Our small town is stuck in an hourglass, forever stuck on pause. It's stuck in the days where money rules, churches judge, and your skin color determines where you'll be in fifty years. But I must admit there are some unquestionable positives. Holidays are treated with care, the food is plentiful everywhere because there is always someone cooking somewhere, and football is its own kind of royalty. But this town's largest ray of sunshine can't be copied or shared. She's my own personal Heaven.

~Our Hometown of Dewbridge/Journal Entry by Rylan Tucker

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To Mattie Mackey, I'm her hero. She doesn't realize her own saving grace. She's made it easy when time with her takes me away from the stuck-up upbringing my parents think I need. My mom wears the title of debutante to the max. She looks down on anyone who doesn't come from money or has it. I think she forgot she was a poor girl when she met my father. I always suspected she married him for his money. In fact, I think they married each other for specific reasons. Mom was a knockout in her time and still possesses her timeless beauty thanks to plastic surgery. What better way to marry than to marry the woman he was whoring around with? I've heard the stories. Dad was the rich man that gave mom whatever she wanted. And money was something they agreed on. I swear, every time a dollar is gained, they have multiple orgasms over it.

"Rylan, you're going to be late! You know how I feel about tardiness."

Her voice is giving me a headache. All morning, she's discussed the year and how it will be the best one. The numerous committees she's secured a position on are growing. Before I know it, she'll handle everything right down to my graduation. Should I point out that she's the reason why I'm late? It wouldn't matter. She'd still keep nagging.

Hurrying down the stairs, I rush by her and throw my bag in the back of my new truck, my gift for senior year. A fully loaded Chevy Silverado. I hate it for the superficial feel it has attached to it. It's their way of telling me they love me. Maybe they do, but I imagine it has more to do with the fact that I'm the only heir they have to carry on their legacy. Slipping inside, I should be fawning over all the new accessories staring at me. Instead, I can't stand it. I want the truck I sweated and worked my butt off for. It was used when I purchased it, but it was mine. For the last three years, I'd tinkered with it, worked on it, and turned it into something I could be proud of. It was the first purchase I'd made solely on my own.

Not taking the time to tell mom bye, I jump in the cab and pull out of the driveway. Driving slowly past Mattie's house, I spot her father kicking the crap out of his hay bailer. Sighing, I hit the gas and speed the rest of the way to school. If the scene I just witnessed is any indication, it will be a hell of a night for my friend. Mattie's dad is one of the reasons why I choose not to drink. I've seen what it's done to her family. My other reason is football. I don't need that stuff to mess up my game. People don't talk about my star status on the team for nothing. My parents want me to take over the family business. I'd rather live on the streets than take homes from people that need them. Dad inherited one of the largest real estate empires in the South. Most of the strip malls, hotels, or other land-sucking opportunities that leech money into my family's pockets come from Tucker Enterprise. Dad can keep it. I'm shooting for a spot in the NFL and a chance to get out of this town and away from the parents who help run it.

I don't have to worry about finding a parking spot when I arrive at the high school. Even though reserved parking isn't allowed, a place has always been saved for the school's quarterback. It's something people do without thinking. Football reigns supreme in the South, making me as close to royalty as a person can get. It would help if I'd follow the rules of popularity and take them up on their sacrifice, but I hate conformity. Instead, I park my monstrosity next to Mattie's beat-up Nissan. The blue paint has seen better days, but it's clean. She uses it frequently to haul supplies for her growing number of animals and the animal clinic where she works part-time. Getting out, I reach the back of my truck when a voice pipes up. My headache grows.

"Ry, baby, where were you this weekend?"

Ladonna Miller's face turns up in disgust when she passes Mattie's truck, and I work hard at hiding my frustration. There's only one person I like using that nickname, and she isn't here. Ladonna runs her finger down my navy blue t-shirt and makes a trail downward. She's pouting.

"I missed you. Did you miss me?"

Not even a little.

"You're looking beautiful as always."

Plastering a smile on my face, I lean against my truck with my arms crossed. Unfortunately, that doesn't deter Ladonna. Her hand moves over the front of my pants before giving it a light squeeze.

"I thought I'd welcome you back properly."

Usually, my hormones would take over and agree, but Ladonna's appeal has worn off over the years. We've dated on and off since we started Dewbridge High. It made sense. We make sense. She's one of the most popular girls in school. Her family is wealthy and runs in the same circle as mine. Her long dark hair, tall, athletic body, tanned skin, and flawless face make her one of the most beautiful girls in the school. But that's where her appeal ends. Aside from being good in bed, her brain seems incapable of producing intelligent conversation outside of shopping and gossip. I place my hand on hers and settle them back at her side before pushing off my truck.

"As much as my body appreciates the attention, we're late for class."

She shrugs, seemingly unaffected by my indifference. Instead, she waits for me to grab my backpack from the back of the truck and trots beside me toward the front entrance.

"So my mom talked to your mom and wouldn't you know we have almost every class together this year. Isn't that awesome?"

Kill me now. "Sure, why not."

There's that pout again. I want to say something or brush her off like the fly she is, but that's not how a true gentleman is raised, and I'm a product of my upbringing.

"What's up with you? Aren't you excited? This is our senior year, Ry. The best year of our lives."

"Yeah, about that Ry thing. Don't call me that."

Her frown deepens. "As the hottest couple in school, it's only natural we have pet names for each other."

I stop abruptly, causing her to run into me. What the hell.

Opening the door, I gesture for her to go ahead of me. "First off, we are not a couple. We broke up last year, or did you forget?"

"A technicality."

"Technicality nothing. It is what it is. Get over it. Second off, I need to get to class. I have plans at the end of this year, and it doesn't include failing."

If football doesn't pan out, I need my grades to help land the scholarships I want. I'm shooting for the former, but I have a backup for the latter. Brushing past her, I don't bother to stop and sign the tardy sheet. The teacher won't report me. I'm the quarterback that has taken the Eagles to the championships three years in a row. Usually, the special treatment would leave a bad taste in my mouth. I work hard for my grades, but I don't care today. Ladonna has no business trying to mess with my love life to enhance her popularity. It's not happening.