Chapter 1

351 2 0
                                    

I groaned as I heard my phone ringing. “Hello?” I asked with a mouth full of toothpaste.

“Didn’t anyone tell you not to talk with your mouth full Lys?” Dylan’s teasing voice on the phone asked.

I rinsed my mouth and said, “Well, if some annoying person would stop blowing up my phone when I’m trying to get ready, I wouldn’t have this problem. I told you I would be outside in ten minutes because you came early. You can either come inside and chill or just wait outside. Either way you aren’t going to see me for 10 minutes!” I yelled the last part and hung up the phone.

A minute later, I heard the front door open and shut and knew it was him.

Don’t get me wrong, I love Dylan to death, he is just very….. Impatient. We were going to hang with the guys today, and I told him that I would be ready at 10. And what does he do? Show up at 9:50. He can wait.

Today was just another Saturday to me, which meant hanging out with Britt, Dylan, Garrett, Austen, and Ryan. Yes I know I am the only girl. And no I do not care.

But that’s typical me. I’m the girl that hangs with the guys, the only girl that they will let inside their circle of things. I’m the one they come to advice about girlfriends, blah blah blah, and they threaten to beat up my boyfriends if they hurt me. I’ve known them for as long as I can remember.

All the guys hunt, and mostly wear camo. I, on the other hand, have never been hunting in my life, but I wear camo and talk to them. I have friends that are girls, like the soccer team, or the ones that I go to cow shows with. But I choose to hang with the guys. Why? Because with them, there is no drama, no having to care about if you burp loudly, they don’t care how I dress, or expect me to gossip. No thank you.

I am the only girl they will actually let into their circle, literally. Our group at school normally consists of at least 10 people, but unless you know them like I do, you stand behind everyone else on the outside looking in. I know it sounds harsh, but it’s the truth. We all make a circle and talk during lunch and during breaks, and we will only let a few other people in. Yeah, we talk to everyone. Its just, complicated I guess.

I throw some curling gel into the ends of my long, wet hair and put on a little mascara and eyeliner and go to look at myself in the mirror. Today I have on my dark blue jeans shorts, or as Britt likes to call them, my daisy dukes, one of my cutoff shirts, or maybe its Dylan’s, with a sports bra underneath, and flip flops. We were planning to just have a lazy day today, so it didn’t matter what I wore.

I grab my phone, Alabama lanyard with my keys and wallet, and walk downstairs. I see Dylan stretched out on my couch watching my recordings of Duck Dynasty.

Before Dylan noticed I was coming down the stairs, I crept quietly and jumped over the back of the couch to land on top of him.

“Lyssa! That hurt!” he said, faking injury. I just laughed and sat Indian style on his chest, a very muscular one to be exact.

“Are you calling me fat?” I said, making my bottom lip quiver and sniffing, making him feel guilty.

His eyes went wide and he started stuttering his words, saying, “No, not at all, I mean, you jumped, and I wasn’t ready, and ugh!” He just reached up and wrapped his arms around my waist and buried his face into my side. That’s what he does when he is frustrated, embarrassed, or doesn’t feel good.

I know what you’re probably thinking. ‘I thought they were friends, what is he doing, yadda yadda yadda.’ And guess what, I KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN! Me and him are the ones that everyone says should get together, that would be perfect together, that we are just alike, and I agree with them. He flirts with me all the time, and yes, I flirt back, but this boy is my best friend. Out of all the guys, I tell him EVERYTHING.

All of a sudden, I feel the world go sideways, and then realize he yanked me down on top of him. I looked up into his grey eyes, and then finally notice how close we were; there was only a couple inches of space between our faces.

I felt his hands run up my back, down again, and grip my hips tightly and scoot me closer. Me, being the clumsy person I am, banged my head into his and ended up falling in the floor. FML.

“Wow, Lys, are you okay? I swear if you get any clumsier, then I am seriously going to put you in one of those bubble things.” he said. I only roll my eyes in response and get up without using the hand he was offering to help me get up.

“Come on, the guys are probably waiting. And you know how they can get.” I said and walked out the front door with Dylan close on my heels. He locked the door behind him and we walked out to his truck.

I swear this truck is frigging amazing. It’s a ‘96 black extended cab Silverado with huge tires and a 8 inch body lift.

“I’M DRIVING!” I suddenly scream out and run to the driver side door and try my best not to fall as I climb up into the seat. We did this little routine every time I ride with him. I run and jump into the drivers seat with no warning, and he just gets into the passenger seat. I think he has gotten past trying to fight me over who drives. He drives my car anyways, so I don’t see what it matters.

Dylan sighs, walks around to the passenger side, and gets in. During that time, I study his profile. He really is attractive. His hair is a light brown that has a slight curl to it, he has dimples, and a six-pack to die for. Not to mention when he flexes his biceps they threaten to stretch the sleeves of his shirt. Not that it matters today, as he has on a cutoff. He isn’t gigantic tall, just under 6 foot, inches taller than my 5’6.

When I turn the key, the engine roars to life, making a beautiful roaring sound. The “bear growl” as we call it. A couple of minutes later I pull into Ryan’s driveway. I see 4 guys standing with their heads under the hood of a white F-150. With a wink at Dylan, I honk the horn, and every one of them jump and hit their heads on the hood.

“Lys, that was mean! Now they probably have lost what few brain cells they have left!” Dylan says in between his fits of laughter. I can’t help but join in.

While I am laughing my ass off, I didn’t notice the guys walking up to the truck. All of a sudden the door is being opened and I get pulled out by four sets of hands.

“PUT ME DOWN!! AAHHH!!” I scream.

“Okay, if you say so…” I hear Garrett say.

Each one grabs an arm or a leg and I get swung up onto the trampoline that is in Ryan’s backyard.

I bounce twice then finally sit up. Giving them all a glare, I cross my arms over my chest and just sit there. Dylan finally gets out of the truck and walks over to us.

Austen makes a little huddle and I can hear them whispering about something, and then see all of them turn around and give me the biggest shit eating grins I have ever saw.

“Guys……. What are you up to?” I drawl out in time for them to run and jump onto the bouncy plaything with me. They dog pile on top of me, making it hard to breathe.

One by one I push them off, and sit up. They just sit there and stare at me, like I had grown two heads or something. I slide over the edge of the trampoline and start running towards the house.

"LAST ONE TO THE KITCHEN HAS TO MAKE THE SANDWICHES!"

I apologize for any mistakes. This is the first story that I have written, so please, vote, comment, & fan!

 

 

 

Farmer's DaughterWhere stories live. Discover now