Fifteen
Jace
Weeks of working on the farm and I’ve yet to get used to the smell. Lifting my shirt over my nose, I push the shovel under the horse shit, and when I’m done cleaning out the stalls, I feed all the animals. Getting an early start helps me finish by lunch time. Not wanting me to miss breakfast, my aunt Rachel walks out to the barn to bring me a toaster waffle or biscuits with sausage wrapped in a napkin. She always makes sure I have plenty of water and snacks on me too. I actually like being here.
There’s only one thing missing—him. He’s been blowing my phone up ever since I first got here, stopping for a few days only to pick up where he left off. As hard as it is not to answer, I let the voicemail get each call. The distance is hard enough as it is, but knowing we’ll never get another day in his or my bed together . . . Knowing there’ll be no more sneaking out to the old treehouse or to movies . . . No more him . . .
He thinks it’s only for the summer, that we’ll be together again soon. He’s counting down the days and I hate how hopeful he sounds in each message. I want to answer. I want to tell him I love him back. On the days I struggle the most, I read his texts and listen to his voicemails. Closing my eyes, I pretend he’s right next to me and speaking into my ear. I can almost smell the sweet candy on his lips again. All the orange Starbursts. He never was able to convince me how good they were until I tasted them on his lips the last week we were together.
If I answer his calls and respond to his messages I know I’ll take back my decision. Not going back home is for the best. I won’t be gone forever, though, only until I’m sure he’s moved on and realizes how much I held him back. Until he realizes he can have a much better life without me. I signed up for community college forty-five minutes away from here, switching my degree to agriculture. I haven’t told him I won’t be joining him at the university we’d both dreamed of going to together since freshman year. I don’t know how to. Hearing the hurt and anger in his voice would cut me way too deep. I’m barely keeping it together as it is, the hole in my heart growing larger every day.
Entering the hen house, I collect the eggs in a bucket and put them up high in the enclosure so the raccoons and other animals won’t get them. There’s been a huge stray cat problem lately, and too many have managed to sneak past the dogs over the last couple of days. Sweat drips from my brow as I check the electric fences and move the sheep to a new section of the pasture.
Healthy green grass sprouts around my boots as I wait for the last group of lambs to make it over. The smallest one circles my legs, baaing . He’s bottle fed so not as skittish as the others. I bend down to pet his soft fleece, wiping more sweat from my face with my shirt, and a smile cracks along my lips when the lamb tries to suck on it.
“Not feeding time yet, buddy.” I give him one last pat on the head before turning around and closing the gate behind me. Kneeling in the grass, I yank the water bottle from my back pocket and chug it down, allowing my face to soak up the sun.
The farm life is as peaceful as it sounded. Animals truly are better than people. They didn’t judge you for your past mistakes or remind you of the ones you made. They rely on you and look forward to your presence. They’re gentler and easy to please. I do no wrong out here. I don’t hurt Nate in my sleep since I go to bed alone. I don’t hurt my mom by always doing the wrong thing, and here I’m not known as the kid whose dad kept men in his basement.
I get to have a new start. It’s a second chance. I should be happy and relieved to be far away from all the bad memories—to be away from my dad—but I’m also far away from my best friend, and I still feel like I need him every day. Those smiles. His contagious laugh. His silly lists and random plans for us. He doesn’t need me, though.
“Lunch is on the table,” Aunt Rachel shouts, and I wave her way to let her know I heard her. Otherwise she’d continue screaming her head off. A slight breeze wraps around me and I stride toward the house, offering my skin some relief from the sun. The summers are hot here but not as hot as in Texas. I didn’t mind spending my days out in the sun when Nate was there to jump in the lakes and springs with me. The only water to take a dip in around here are the ponds, though, and there’s nothing like fish nibbling at your feet when you go for a quick swim to cool off.
“Just about done for the day?” Rachel swats at a bug and I nod.
“Yeah.” I squint when the sun creeps into my eyes too much and I follow her into the house. “I don’t have much left to do but I’ll get it taken care of after I eat.”
“I’m sure you will. You got a phone call while you were out.” My aunt and uncle are some of the very few people with a landline. No one ever calls for me on it either, so I’m a bit taken aback by her words.
“Yeah?” I take off my hat, setting it on the hook, and leave my muddy boots by the door.
“Yup. Your brother. He asked me to have you call him back. Wanted to see how you are.”
“He has my cell number.” I head for the table and my aunt shakes her head, nodding at the sink for me to wash my hands.
Chuckling, I oblige, and she starts talking again.
“Yes, but you aren’t answering it. At least he says you aren’t. Any particular reason why?”
Why won’t you just move on without me Nate? I can’t if you can’t, and you need to. It’s for your own damn good.
Cold water mixes with the soap on my hands, creating suds as I rub them together. “I must be getting them when I don’t have service. I haven’t seen any come through.”
She casts a glance at me, lifting a brow. She’s much harder to lie to than my mom and dad were. “Mhm.”
“I haven’t, Auntie. I swear.”
Her lips smack together. “You can keep lying to me all you want but you can’t lie to yourself.” She points her finger at me, tucking her shirt into her apron. “Now go eat before the food gets cold.”
“It’s sandwiches,” I say, pulling out a chair.
“And I said what I said. Eat.” Her eyes harden when she glances out the window. “Where’s that uncle of yours?”
“He was out on the tractor,” I say, sitting down in front of a plate holding my favorite chips. My aunt was sure to get them during every grocery trip. I’m very spoiled here and I’ve never once felt like a burden. I think my aunt likes having someone to take care of and my uncle appreciates having cheap help. He talks about me taking over the farm for him someday, saying I was made for it. Maybe he’s right. No one’s ever had so much confidence in me before. No adult at least.
“He’s going to run himself ragged one day by going so dang long without eating or drinking.”
“I think he already has,” I deadpan, and she laughs, bringing a pitcher of lemonade over to the table.
“You might be right. That man can barely make it through an episode of his favorite show these days, and they’re only thirty minutes long.”
My uncle loves his true crime. I’ve caught him listening to podcasts while brushing the horses. Last time we were in the stall together, he took off his headphones and hooked his phone up to a Bluetooth speaker so I could listen too. I fell asleep to one last night, waking up thinking I was being strangled when my wired headphones wrapped themselves around my neck. I hate the wireless earbuds because of how easily they slip out of my ears, but I might come around to them soon.
My aunt talks about the weather and the new sheep my uncle has to pick up tomorrow. I plan on going with him so we can stop by the bookstore on the way because reading on my phone is becoming a chore. I used to share Nate’s Kindle with him. I also really miss touching real book pages and enjoy grabbing a tea after my purchase.
“What are you reading these days anyway?” My aunt fiddles with her napkin.
“Thrillers. Suspense.” I answer between bites of my food, dabbing my face with a napkin when mustard drips down the corner of my mouth.
“You’re turning into your uncle,” she laughs.
Smiling around a chip, I nod and reach for my cup. “Yeah. I guess he’s rubbing off on me a little.” I like having someone who’s a good influence to take after. My mom’s husband was a good man and treated me well, but we never really bonded over anything. He always seemed worried about saying the wrong thing, tiptoeing around me like he was walking on thin ice. And well, my real dad was no one I ever wanted to model after. What I do in my dreams is not who I am, and I need to keep telling myself that, even though a part of me is scared of being wrong.
“You’re not your dad,” I remember Nate saying. I might not be able to hold on to him but I can carry his words with me everywhere I go—and I do. Out in the barn, in the pastures, on the tractor, at the bookstore where the coffee shop clerk sometimes flirts with me, and as I fall asleep at night.
“Well, as long as you don’t end up as stubborn then I think you’ll be just fine.” She winks, clearing off the table.
I help her, tossing my trash and setting my dishes in the dishwasher. After I call my uncle to come eat and drink something, I bottle feed the babies and fish in the pond until the sun begins to set. Nate would love it out here. All the large moss trees and the way the sun shines down on the water. He’d lay back beside me on the dock, telling me how beautiful the view is, and all I’d be able to see is him.
I take out my phone, reading over the last messages he sent while I lower my fishing line into the water.
Nate : One of these days you won’t be able to ignore me anymore.
Nate : I hope you didn’t meet some cute country boy or girl out there, because if you did you better let them know who you’ll always belong to.
Nate : Please answer me. At least with a hi.
Nate : I miss you.
My throat goes dry, strong emotions building up in my chest, creating an uncomfortable pressure.
Nate : I love you.
My heart sinks and I trace his words with my fingers, hoping he knows I feel the same. I want to say it back. I do, so fucking bad. It hurts too much. But if I say the words we’ll only keep going in circles, hurting each other more when school starts and I don’t show up.
He’ll always be my favorite kind of good, and I’ll always be the bad he can do without.
Sixteen
Nate