Rhinestone Cowgirl.

Prelude. In Your Head, In My Heart.

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IN YOUR HEAD, IN MY HEART
Content warning: Mentions of sex.

SEVEN SUMMERS AGO.

               The taste of sweet peaches lingered along my tongue while I giggled in the secluded section of the cattle field. The burning sun embraced my skin with a kiss of its harsh rays—a wrenching reminder of a cancerous love. It didn't help the moonshine that dripped from my lips that aided the heat in all its glory.

               The toe of my boot caught itself on the thick root of the oak tree I desperately grasped. My stomach taut in aching laughter while his large hands tugged me straight before I fell further. My eyes could barely grapple the scenery around me, squinted from my sore cheeks. He giggled with me as I pulled him to sit with me at the base of the tree.

               "Can you even breathe, Leigh?" He asked through a fit of chuckles. "If I woulda known how giggly you got on moonshine, I woulda saved us those tears from the whiskey."

               I thwacked him with the back of my hand in between laughs, "Hey! I wasn't that bad."

               "Honey, you were more depressing than the movie Old Yeller," He said, leaning his head back on the hard bark. "I'll never forgive you for making me watch that movie."

               "Don't make me think about it or this'll be the dreadful whiskey night part two," I jested, holding up two fingers. "I'm just baffled you went nineteen years without watching the infamously heart-breaking movie."

               He chuckled again, rolling his head on his neck to look at me. His cheeks tinted with a rosy red like mine, green eyes ablaze and lips in a lazy smile. If I wasn't so muddled, I would've stopped the actions that were about to take place in a matter of minutes.

               His ashy brown hair disheveled, strands going in all kinds of directions. It was nice to see it loose and wild rather than hidden under his many trucker caps. My fingers found their way to his hair to run them through his soft locks.

               "I like you like this," I said, flicking his hair, "I like you always, but I never see you without your hat anymore."

               He hums a chuckle, "You saying I should stop wearing my hats?"

               "No," I nudged him with my shoulder, taking back my hand. "I'm just saying, I like your hair. You're very handsome."

               "And you're very pretty," He said.

               My head snapped in his direction as fast as his words came. My abdomen quickly went from a bellyached laughter to a butterfly sick stomach. "What?" I asked, shocked at his words.

               "You're very pretty, Brynnleigh," He stated again, this time adding my full name. My smile fell while I observed his hazed features. The short stubble from his growing beard, his eyes boring into mine. We should drink moonshine more often. Too bad I'm leaving for Nashville tomorrow.

               "Shut up," I said, biting my lip while I looked forward at my crossed boots, "It's the moonshine talking."

               He shook his head, "It's not."

               "Don't do this to me, Wyatt. You're making me nervous, I'm shaking like a wet dog," I cleared my throat.

               Before I knew it, his fingers pinched the edge of my chin to make me look at him. "I mean it, with all my heart. You are the prettiest girl in the world to me."

               "Wyatt," I said one final time. My eyes brimming with tears, "You're going to make me cry."

               "I know one way to stop that," He smiled, bringing his lips onto mine.

               A gentle, age-long kiss that was everything I'd always hoped it would be. Peaches and mint on his lips, and mischievousness on his tongue. A bursting sensation echoing within my body. My first and what ended up being my last one with him. And one I'd forever cherish.

               And soon I was straddled over his unbuckled lap and his hands underneath the skirt of my sundress. His whispering of reassurance, polite permission falling from his lips and my adamant nods. Only the cows and critters could hear the unholy noises that came from you and me. A bold choice to engage in the mere act of losing my virginity underneath my favorite oak tree in the peak of sunset. In a haze of peach moonshine and an overwhelming hunger. But I wouldn't have traded it for a second.

               And if my father ever found out what happened, Wyatt would be been a dead man. But he knew that, and didn't care in the slightest.

               I pulled my strap up that dangled off my shoulder while we shamelessly stepped onto the porch of my Gramma's home. Cuts scattered his skin from scraping along the rough bark of the tree. His hand hadn't left mine while we walked through the field, softly rubbing his thumb against my delicate skin. The sky turned to dusk and we were procrastinating our goodbyes.

               "I wish you weren't leaving tomorrow," He sighed.

               The reminder caused my dopamine high to subside, the corners of my smile dip towards the floorboards of the porch.

"Y'know, you could always come with me," I smile, tucking my lip between my teeth, "There's bulls to get bucked off in Tennessee."

He chuckled, shoving his hands shoveling into his back pockets. "If I didn't have my responsibilities here, Leigh, you know I would."

My heart skips a beat at the thought, then melts at his good nature. We stood in silence for a moment, staring back at each other. I couldn't help, but feel the ache. One that I swore would follow me until my dying breath.

I wrapped my arms around his neck as my lip quivered. I whispered, "I'll miss you, Wyatt."

More silence. His strong arms enclosed me into his being, tightening around my back. "I'll miss you, Brynnleigh. More than you'll ever know."

As time passed, the porch light turned on to signal for me to head inside, our arms reluctantly loose i v from their grasp. My hands glided along his arms to find his calluses palms—bringing them to my lips as I placed a chaste kiss along the finger pads that once touched me.

"Till next summer?" I say, eyes filled with hope and desire.

Instead of a response, his hand left mine to gently caress my cheek. Without hesitation, his lips found mine once more. My eyes flitted shut to take him in once more, but this time a bittersweet taste lingered on our tongues. I knew this was our final moment together. The butterflies fluttering within my chest threatened to tear through and encompass us both.

As he pulled away, his emerald eyes met mine one last time. "Goodbye, Brynnleigh."

I let the tears flow past my lids, not realizing that I had been holding back a cry. "Bye," I say while I watch him hop into his dad's old truck.

And when I left the next day, I never came back.

❲ . . . ❳