8. Mira #2
"I thought you'd changed. You worked hard, started caring about the animals, enrolled in school again. I believed you when you said you loved it here." His laugh is bitter. "Guess you're a better actress than I gave you credit for."
"That's not—I do love it here. I wasn't lying about that?—"
"But you were lying about everything else." He turns to Harper and the others. "Get in your car. You have five minutes before I call the cops for trespassing and property damage."
"Matt, wait—" I reach for him but he steps back like I'm poison.
"I'm disappointed in you, Mira." Each word lands like a punch. "Really disappointed."
He walks away. Just turns his back and heads toward the barn, shoulders rigid, not looking back once.
Mom starts crying. Matt's dad follows after him, calling his name.
And I stand there in the driveway, pregnant with his baby, watching everything I built crumble to nothing while my drunk friends finally realize this isn't funny anymore.
Harper's hand closes around my wrist, tugging. "Come on, let's get out of here. This place is depressing as hell anyway."
"Yeah, we can hit that brunch spot in the city." Jade bounces on her toes, phone already out. "The one with the bottomless mimosas."
Tyler kicks another piece of broken taillight across the gravel. "Maybe mess with some more of his shit first. Guy's a dick."
The words snap something inside me.
"No."
Harper blinks. "What?"
"I said no." I yank my wrist free, stepping back. "You need to leave. Now."
"Babe, we drove three hours to rescue you?—"
"I don't need rescuing!" My voice cracks but I don't care anymore.
The test upstairs burns in my mind. The look on Matt's face.
Everything I just destroyed because of texts I sent in a moment of anger six weeks ago.
"You crashed into his truck. You broke his barn door.
You showed up drunk and trashed his property like it's some kind of joke. "
"It is a joke." Harper crosses her arms, mouth curling. "This whole place is a joke. You've been playing farmgirl for what, six weeks? And now you're defending this guy after everything you said about him?"
"I was wrong."
The words hang in the morning air. Mom's still on the porch, watching. Matt's dad disappeared into the barn after Matt.
"I was angry and tired and I said horrible things I didn't mean. But that was weeks ago. Before I got to know him. Before I—" I stop, swallowing hard. Before I fell in love with him. Before he made me see myself differently. Before everything changed.
Jade tugs at her sleeves, shifting her weight. "Mira, we're your friends. We're just trying to help?—"
"By destroying his property? By humiliating him in front of his dad?" My hands shake. "That's not help. That's cruel."
"Oh my God." Harper laughs, high and sharp. "You're serious. You actually like it here. The dirt and the smell and the manual labor. You like him, your own stepbrother."
Heat floods my face but I don't deny it.
"Wow." Harper pulls out her phone, snapping a photo of me standing there barefoot in yesterday's tank top. "This is gold. Wait till everyone hears about this. Mira Jacobs, playing farmer's girlfriend with her hick stepbrother?—"
"Don't." My voice comes out low, dangerous. "Don't post that. Don't contact me again. Just leave."
"Are you kidding right now?" Harper's face twists, ugly and mean. "After everything we did for you? All the times we covered for you, invited you out, made sure you weren't left behind?—"
"You mean made fun of people for entertainment? Documented everything for likes?" I shake my head. "I thought that was friendship. I thought that was normal. But it's not. It's just shallow and toxic and I'm done."
Tyler snorts. "She's brainwashed. Spent too long with the cows."
"You're out." Harper's eyes narrow, finger jabbing toward me.
"You hear me? You're out of the group. Don't come crawling back when you realize how boring this life is.
Don't text us when you're tired of playing house with your weird stepfamily.
You chose him over us. And besides, you're broke now. "
"I know." The words come easier now. "I'm choosing him. I'm choosing this. And you need to get in your car and leave before he calls the cops."
"Fine." Harper spins on her designer sneaker, stalking toward the SUV. "Have fun shoveling shit for the rest of your life. Come on, guys."
Jade follows, not meeting my eyes. Tyler gives the barn door one last kick for good measure before climbing in.
The engine roars to life. Gravel sprays as Harper backs up too fast, scraping against Matt's truck one more time. Then they're gone, disappearing down the long driveway in a cloud of dust.
Silence falls over the farm. Just the chickens clucking, the horses shifting in their stalls.
And me, standing alone in the driveway with a positive pregnancy test upstairs and the man I love somewhere in that barn, thinking I'm exactly the person I used to be.
I press both hands to my stomach.
"Well," I whisper to the baby that's barely real yet. "That could've gone better."
Mom's footsteps creak on the porch behind me.
Time to face the rest of it.
Mom's slippers scuff against the porch steps. Each one closer. Each one tightening the vise around my chest.
"Mira." Her voice shakes. "What did that girl mean? About you and Matt?"
I can't do this. Not right now. Not with Matt somewhere in that barn thinking I'm a liar, thinking the past six weeks meant nothing.
"Not now, Mom."
"Not now?" She reaches the bottom step. "Your friend just implied you have feelings for your stepbrother. So yes, right now. We're talking about this right now."
But I'm already moving, bare feet carrying me across the gravel toward the house as he's not in the barn anymore. Away from her questions. Away from the disappointment I can hear building in her voice.
"Mira Jacobs, don't you dare walk away from me?—"
"I need to find Matt!" The words rip out of me. "I need to talk to him. Please, just—give me five minutes."
I don't wait for permission. My legs pump faster, gravel digging into my soles as I sprint for the front door. The screen bangs behind me. Mom's calling my name but it's distant, muffled by the blood rushing in my ears.
His room is at the end of the hall. Past the family photos on the walls, past the guest bathroom, past everything normal and good that existed before this morning exploded.
I reach his door and my fist connects with wood before I can second-guess it.