Hay Season

Chapter 3

Mattie

There were things in my life that made me feel unloved, and it grew. My rebellion centered on my daddy. ~Susan Sanford ~

I've never cared what people think about me. Being different is something I excel in and something that Dewbridge, Mississippi, frowns upon. It all started a few years ago as a challenge to get revenge on the secret my family has forced me to keep quiet, but my own rebellion has led to its own secret. I'll be that girl now, the girl that people whisper about and shake their heads at when they pass by. I'll be the statistic doomed to make our small town grow. That's what people think anyway, but I have other plans. I just haven't figured out how to implement them yet.

~ Our Hometown of Dewbridge/Journal Entry by Darby Jones

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Do you ever have one of those epiphany moments where you suddenly know exactly how your life is going to go? Not me. All my epiphanies end with an empty whiskey bottle.

"Mattie. Earth to Mattie. Wake up!"

If you told me a person couldn't fall asleep standing up, I'd tell you to come stay at my house during hay season. Sleep is one of those luxury items that most people aren't aware of. I like to store mine like a bear stores food for the winter, but my surplus is running low.

"If you start drooling on your locker, I'm out of here. You're already risking social suicide as it is."

Cracking one eye open from the place where my head is lying on the cold metal, I study Darby.

"Is that what this is? Social Suicide? Didn't we already commit that in kindergarten?"

Darby and I have been friends since ... well, forever. Maybe that has something to do with our mothers being good friends, but I have a feeling we would have connected no matter what. She's the type that attracts someone like me. She's fearless, unique, and one of the few people I will allow inside my house. That and her life mirror mine on a twisted level.

"Besides, I've never seen you follow a rule in your life."

Her hair color tends to change with the seasons or her mood, whichever comes first. The school board has threatened her several times. It's fortunate her uncle happens to be on said board. Her vehicle, a bright green bug, is covered in an array of bumper stickers. It's so wildly popular with the student body that the school had to issue her a private spot in the teacher's parking lot.

"Maybe we should try this year. For shits and giggles."

If I wasn't alert before, I am now. Pushing off the locker, I study my friend. Today, her hair is back to her natural brunette color, her usual baggy and grungy fun and freestyle is replaced with a light blue blouse and blue jean shorts, and is that lip gloss on her lips? Darby has always been a natural beauty, the type that causes everyone to stop and take a second look, but she's worked hard at being as different as she can from the regular population. So why does she fit in so perfectly today, and why haven't I noticed before now?

"What's going on?"

"Nothing."

She sighs. Moisture fills her eyes, and she struggles to keep the tears I know are threatening to fall. I'm calling bull shit. Grabbing her hand, I tug her into the bathroom and close the door at the same time the tardy bell rings.

"We're late for class."

Opening the doors to the stalls, I make sure we're alone before facing her.