Twenty-Five
Annabeth
School has been back for all of three days, and I already feel like I need another holiday. To be fair, I spent my entire break falling head-over-heels in love with a gorgeous cowboy, but that’s neither here nor there.
A smile creeps over my face as I pace my classroom. It’s lunchtime, which means any second now, my phone will light up with sweet texts from Dallas. Ever since Billie got home from camp, we’ve all been inseparable. Last weekend, we drove out of town and rented a boat with Colt and Ella.
Colt taught Billie how to wakeboard – what an experience that was. Both of them stacked it. The entire situation was hilarious. Ella nearly had a heart attack, and by the time the two of them climbed back into the boat, she was near hyperventilating. I giggle thinking about it.
My phone erupts in my pocket, drawing my attention back to reality. As I glance down at the flashing rectangle, nervousness washes over me. The way this man gives me butterflies from just a text is such a new experience, I never want it to end.
Dallas: Hey, little Firefly.
Me: Howdy, Cowboy.
Dallas: You forgot something this morning.
Me: ?
Dallas: You forgot to give me a kiss goodbye.
Me: I bloody well did not!
Dallas: You suuuure? My lips feel awfully lonely.
Me: You’re ridiculous, who allowed you to have access to a phone?
Dallas: Maybe so, but I’m yours.
There it is, that word. Yours. Ever since my accidental I love you, we’ve taken to just saying ‘yours’.
So much hangs on those three little words; eight letters, but also, so much more than that.
After everything we’ve been through, ‘yours’ just feels right.
I am his, completely, and unconditionally.
Billie has also joined in the bandwagon, showering her dad and I with cute little love letters.
They’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.
My heart races, my cheeks flushing with heat and I feel a queasy pang deep in my gut.
I’m on the brink of panic, my chest tightening with every breath.
Oh god, I love him. I don’t think I’ve ever loved someone before, let alone someone with good intentions.
I don’t like to think of the string of absolute cockheads I’ve brought home over the years, one bad egg after the other.
Sure, there hasn’t been many, but if those few were winning an award, it would be ‘Wanker Of The Year’.
I shudder, not wanting to relive those memories, or the bruises that some of them came with.
Dallas: Where’d you run off to, Firefly?
Me: Just lost in my thoughts.
A reply doesn’t come, but less than fifteen seconds after pressing send, my phone lights up with Dallas’s caller ID.
I swipe the green button, the video call picking up instantly.
I’m greeted to a very filthy Dallas, grease lines all over his face.
His singlet was white when I left this morning, now it looks like an oil spill.
His brow creases as he stares into the camera lens.
“What happened?” he asks.
“I’m fine, Mr. Bossy,” I tell him, doing my best to sound reassuring. He growls into the phone, and I instantly know I’ve royally fucked that up. “I was just overthinking.”
“Why?” he questions, voice laced with concern. “Was it the eggs? We both know I can’t cook to save my life.”
“Oh my god, no, the eggs were fine. Well, no, they sucked ass, but it’s fine,” I protest.
“Woman, stop saying fine.” His warm laughter fills my ears and my heart flutters.
“I’m okay, then,” I tell him, pouting.
He rolls his eyes at me and pretends to swat me through the phone. I have to genuinely stop myself from blurting out some kind of perverted profanity then and there. I’m at work, and this man has the audacity to look like that. Unfair.
“I’ll be at the gates to pick you both up this arvo,” he says, wiping a line of sweat from his forehead before adjusting his hat.
I nod in reply, watching him in awe as he tinkers with something off camera.
“What the hell are you doing anyway?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Fixin’ shit. Something’s always breaking down in this place,” he says through a poorly stifled laugh.
“It looks perverted from here.”
“Annabeth, get your mind out of the gutter.”
My smile widens, enveloping my entire face. I know I must look certifiably insane, but I don’t care. I could be on my death bed, covered in cow shit, or half asleep, and Dallas would still think I was beautiful.
I’m not making this up, those are quite literally his words. He recites them like poetry every time I make a comment about my own appearance. It’s even worse when Billie joins in; the pair of them take great enjoyment in bullying me.
“I’ll have you know, Dallas Northlane, that I have the pristine mind of an academic!”
“Whatever you say, babe. I’ll remind you of your academic mind next time you’re on your knees begging for me,” he taunts.
“Dallas,” I scold, feigning shock. Because I would, in fact, beg – for him anyway.
“See you this arvo, Firefly,” he tells me, pulling a cigarette from his back pocket and sparking the tip. The red-eye glows on my screen, and he winks at me as he takes a draw.
“You will,” I affirm.
Dallas’s eyes sparkle back at me through the camera as he smirks through the inhale. “Stay outta trouble will ya? Give Bumble a kiss from me.”
The call disconnects and the image of my filthy cowboy is firmly embedded in my mind. How his singlets are always juust a fraction too tight in certain places, and the way his jeans hang low on his hips, despite him always wearing a belt.
I don’t even realise that I’ve gotten up and paced my classroom until I look up and see Billie waving madly through the peek-a-boo glass door, a huge grin plastered on her face. She bursts into the room, all but sprinting towards me.
“A.B., I got full marks on my maths test,” she squeals proudly.
“Nice work, curly,” I praise her, tousling the mountain of gold on her head.
She sits with me until the bell rings, telling me all about the third-grade girl drama, and asking how my kids are doing today.
She’s been paired up with one of the kindergarteners as a buddy; it’s a program run by the school to help the little kids assimilate and the bigger kids learn responsibility.
Honestly, it’s great. Billie’s class are called the Platypuses and their buddies are Koalas.
They all get badges and certificates when they ‘graduate’.
It’s kind of a big deal, if I do say so myself.
“I am so excited for tonight,” she tells me, a secretive smirk on her face.
“Oh, are you now?” I question.
“Yep.”
“Do tell.”
“My lips are sealed,” she says, leaping from the desk to imitate an actual seal, hands clapping together and all.
I laugh at her elaborate performance, my chest hurting by the time she’s gathered her things to head back to the playground.
“See you after school, Anna Banana. Love you,” she calls as she runs out the door. I can’t help but crack a smile at the silly nickname Colt gave me that she’s adopted.
Her childish innocence never ceases to amaze me.
How she can so easily say something like, ‘love you’, to her safe people without hesitation.
Her bold confidence, the way she commands the attention of anyone around her just by being herself, by being kind.
I am truly in awe of her. My heart does a double take as I realise just how much this wonderful little girl means to me.
“I love you too, Billie. Both of you,” I murmur quietly to myself.
And I do.
I really fucking do.
Water cascades across my body like a waterfall crashing against the rocks beneath it. As usual, the temperature is equivalent to the ‘fiery pits of hell’, as Ella always says. My hands instinctively reach for the assortment of skincare on the windowsill, muscle memory guiding them to my facewash.
As if I’m in some kind of cliché commercial, I start pumping the foaming liquid onto my palms, massaging it across my face in small circling patterns. It’s not until I’m onto my fourth ‘sexy Emma Roberts meets Neutrogena’ water splash that I realise I probably look like an absolute wanker.
I smile to myself as I turn off the tap.
Stepping out of the glass box, I grab my robe off the hook and wrap myself in the soft fabric.
Walking back into Dallas’s room, I hear the familiar creak of the door as it swings open.
Ella appears seconds later, a cheeky smirk on her face.
My brow lifts so high I swear it grazes my hairline as I flash her a questioning stare.
I hope that stare relays that not only am I wondering how she even got up here, but is also encouraging her to spill her guts about whatever it is she’s obviously desperate to tell me.
She twirls into Dallas’s room, collapsing on the bed as she lets out a deep sigh.
Okay, maybe my brilliant brow raise did not, in fact, relay my questions.
“Why are men so dumb?” she asks.
“Okay, firstly, how the fuck did you get in here?” I exclaim.
“Dallas let me in, plus you haven't been home in forever,” she replies, completely unbothered.
“Fair. Also, I imagine this man being dumb has something to do with him having a dick. Care to elaborate?” I ask in return, not knowing where she’s going with this.
“Colt almost kissed me the other day…”
My brows shoot up. “And that makes him dumb, how?”
“Because he fucking almost kissed me, apologised, and fucking ran away!”
“He ran away?”
“Yes, literally. He just turned and fucking ran toward his stupid truck, like a stupid head.”
“You’re really throwing out some fun words, babe,” I tell her, trying to conceal a laugh.
“Shut up,” she scowls, throwing a pillow at me.
“How does one almost kiss someone?”
Ella rolls her eyes, and I can’t help but laugh. As perfectly put together as she is, she’s cute when she’s mad. “We were coming home from the lake, and he walked me to the door. I was going to invite him inside, because that’s what friends do—”
“Friends?” I cock a brow at her.