6. Presley
Chapter 6
Presley
Ten missed calls, twenty-nine text messages, and even an email. A freaking email. I tried not to read them—or listen to the five voicemails Derek left, either—but of course I did. Because I’m a glutton for punishment.
My favorite text was: Why would you do this to me? To us?
To “us”? There hasn’t been an “us” for over half a year. And if I’m honest with myself, there hasn’t been an “us” for even longer than that.
I roll over in the twin bed, springs creaking as I press my face into the pillow and scream. Anxious energy crawls in my gut, and I scream again, trying to release some of it. I don’t work until later tonight, so the only natural thing for me to do is doom scroll on social media and listen to my ex rip me to shreds.
There’s also the fact that I can’t stop thinking about the backroom incident with Kade last night. I keep seeing that little upturn of his lips when he found out I was watching him make out with that girl. So embarrassing!
I scream into the pillow again. It’s times like these I wish I wasn’t such an awkward turtle. I wish I was more confident and didn’t care what people thought of me.
I flip over in the creaky bed so I’m staring up at the ceiling. The yellow paint is peeling off around some watermarks I assume came from the roof leaking after some rain, and there’s a chip that creates a tiny crack in the off-white ceiling lamp. I fling my arm over my eyes and try to stop myself from crying .
What the hell am I even doing here? Why did I leave my life for this? Why couldn’t I just deal with my shitty ex and bandmates? If I could’ve only been stronger, at least I’d still be playing fiddle, doing what I love, instead of laying on an old bed staring at a ceiling that needs a fresh coat of paint while questioning my life choices.
But I guess in the end, I have nobody to blame but myself. No matter how much I want to blame Derek and every outside force that influenced me in my journey to this moment, I got involved with him when my friends were telling me he wasn’t a good guy. I let myself get wrapped up in his attention and lead me away from my goals, even if, at the time, I thought he was only helping me. God, I was and am such an idiot.
A cow moos loudly in the distance, like they’re agreeing with me. Great. Now I’m taking a cow mooing as a sign of my failures.
A knock on the door startles me, and I wipe my tears away.
“Are you in there, Presley?”
I sit up at the soprano voice of the Delgados’ daughter, Lyla, outside. I’ve chatted with her a few times since I’ve moved in, and she’s the first person I met when I arrived in Randall. She made me feel at home from the moment I unloaded my suitcase.
Not wanting to make her wait, I get up off the bed and open the door to find her standing there, wringing her hands nervously. Since she always appears to be in a good mood, her demeanor has my stomach churning.
“Everything okay?”
She tucks a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. “Can I come in for a quick chat?”
I glance behind me at my mess of stuff on the floor. I didn’t have many belongings with me, but what I do have hasn’t been put away yet. Not that this little studio has a lot of space for me to unpack—just a small dresser and closet. But I’m determined to make it work.
“Um, sure. It’s a mess. I’m still unpacking, but—”
She waves me off, stepping around me to come in before I have time to fully open the door. “It’s not a problem. You should see my room!”
I smile a bit and close the door. When I go to shove my hands in my pockets, they slice through air because I forgot I’m wearing leggings. Lyla pretends not to notice, but I can see the amused glint in her eye.
I clear my throat and fold my arms over my T-shirt-clad chest. I should have thought more about what I was wearing before I opened the door. I’m not even wearing a bra. Thankfully, this is when having small boobs is optimal. I don’t have to worry about them flopping in the breeze.
“What’s up?” I ask, unable to wait to hear what she’s going to tell me. By the look on her face and the way she’s still fidgeting on her feet, it can’t be good.
“I’ve got some bad news.”
I worry my bottom lip, wondering what the hell the bad news could be. I’ve barely lived here a week, and I paid her my rent for the full month. And I’ve hardly left the space since I got here besides to work at the bar, so it’s not like I’ve done anything that could label me a bad tenant.
“Okay, hit me.” I cringe at my awkward phrasing.
“I really hate to do this. I just feel so awful.” She takes out a wad of cash from her back pocket and hands it to me. “I have to give you your rent back.”
My eyes bounce from the money to her brown eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I’m so sorry, Presley, but my brother is coming back from Mexico early. He was supposed to be there for another few months, but…well, he had to come home. It’s complicated. I’m so sorry. I feel terrible. My entire family feels terrible. We would never have rented this space to you if I thought it was even a possibility.”
Bile burns my throat. “Really?” I want to smack myself for that response, but I don’t know what else to say. She does seem apologetic, and her body language screams that she’s telling the truth. I didn’t sign a lease, so it’s not like I can take it up with the management company or something. I found this place via a listing on a corkboard at the general store.
“Again, I’m so sorry, Presley. I feel so terrible. We wouldn’t have even put the place up for rent if we knew he’d come back this early. But the house is full with some of my cousins here to help with the fall season and…” She trails off, her eyes shining with tears.
I reach out to squeeze her shoulder. I’m not normally one for comforting people, but I can tell she needs it. And she does, because before I know it, Lyla is throwing her arms around me and squeezing me into a hug.
My entire body stiffens, not used to the feeling.
Growing up, my family was more of the side-hug-and-wave type of people. As a child of divorce, my parents didn’t even tell me they loved me, say nothing of giving me a lot of affection, and I guess I got used to it. That was one of the things Derek never liked about me. He’s touchy-feely, and I tend not to be. I like my personal space.
Yet another reason I’ve been stuck on thoughts of Kade. Him invading my bubble in the alley and me not stepping back was strange of me.
I pluck that thought from my head as soon as it enters. I shouldn’t be thinking about him, anyway, not when I have an emotional Lyla in my arms. I pat her back awkwardly as she cries. Should I say something to her?
Just as I’m about to make a probably weird attempt at an “everything is going to be okay” speech, she pulls back.
Her tan cheeks darken. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. That was so…wow!” She brushes the tears from her face and steps back.
“It’s okay.”
“I’m known for not having any filter or boundaries. I didn’t mean to cry on you—we hardly know each other. You must think I’m nuts. ”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t think that.” And I don’t. Even though I’m not a touchy-feely person, I constantly do things that make me seem weird, as shown by my behavior last night at Night Hawk. At least I ended the night on a high note—Stu told Jake he was impressed by how I handled the bar when Gavin was saying god knows what to Kade in the back room.
I was proud of how I handled the pressure. I don’t really remember the rest of the night because of how busy it was. All I know is that I made some decent tips, and I only had a few people comment on my hair and tattoos after Polly and her friends.
Lyla sighs. “I should be the one comforting you. I’m so sorry, Presley. Really.”
With the focus back on me and my new predicament, my heart starts to race, and my palms sweat. I hear myself say, “It’s okay, Lyla,” even though I don’t know how I’m going to be okay with no place to live. “I just hope everything’s fine with your family.”
“It’ll be okay, just a lot going on. This year hasn’t been the greatest for the crops with the drought. We got some rain, but—anyway, you don’t need to hear about farm problems or family drama, so I won’t bother you with it.”
“You can if you want.”
She throws her arms around me again, and this time, I allow my body to relax as she hugs me. “I knew you were a good one, Presley. That’s why we rented you this place.” When she pulls away, she’s smiling through her wet eyes. “Now, do you want to hear the good news?”
I raise an eyebrow at her, my heart still pounding. “There’s good news?”
Lyla rocks on the balls of her feet. “Oh, geez, I should’ve led with that! Sorry.”
My lips press together. Yes, that would have been nice, but now I just want to know what the good news is. “It’s okay. ”
“When I found out my brother was coming home, I knew I couldn’t just kick you out without another place to go.” She eyes the suitcase on the floor before meeting my gaze again. “You don’t have another place, right?”
I shake my head. Without this guest house, my next option is a motel or my car, which is a last resort considering I’d have no place to shower and my car isn’t exactly big. This space was perfect because I could pay as I went and I didn’t have to make any commitment.
With the size of this town, I’m not exactly sure what kind of housing options they even have on such short notice.
“Great!” she says happily.
I screw my face up in confusion, wondering why that’s great.
When she sees my reaction, she huffs a laugh. “That was bad phrasing. I say ‘great’ because I found a place for you to stay.”
That settles my racing heart a bit. “You didn’t have to do that, Lyla.”
“Pfft! Yes, I did. I told you; I feel terrible.”
“Please don’t. I understand that things come up.” And I mean it, too. She doesn’t owe me anything. I’m practically a stranger to her, so it’s nice she’s even trying to set me up in a new place.
She hums then begins to wring her hands again while looking at the floor.
“What is it?” I ask.
She bites her lip as our eyes connect. “The room, it kind of comes with a catch.”
“What kind of catch?”
“There’s a big ranch down the road. They went through some hard times in the last year, and they found a way to turn it around by starting a dude ranch.”
“A dude ranch?”
She nods, her eyes lighting up. “Yes! It’s a great idea. The town thinks the tourism will bring in money for a lot of us, especially in the summer. But they’re looking to hire someone to help around the place. The original person fell through this morning, so they’re in a pinch. It’s not operating yet, but they’re getting a bunch of new horses in, and Blake said they could use the help. The job comes with pay and a room.”
The name Blake rings a bell, and I remember Jake talking about a friend of his with that name. Then it hits me. She said job and a room. “Lyla, you want me to work on a ranch?”
She presses her lips together then speaks. “I don’t know if you want another job, but the pay is decent, and their property is beautiful. It’s ranch work like mucking stalls, painting, stuff like that. And like I said, it comes with a free place to live!”
I want to say the living quarters are technically not free if I’m working to pay it off, but I don’t. Lyla seems very excited about this solution, and I don’t want to seem ungrateful.
“And…” She leans in closer to me like she’s telling me a big secret. “I know we don’t know each other, but between you and me, there are lots of hot single guys over there. If anything, you’ll have a nice view when they’re shirtless and sweaty. Let me tell you, there’s nothing hotter than a cowboy while they’re working, especially if they’re wearing one of those white tank tops and a ball cap. Phew!” She giggles.
I blink at her, and after a second, I can’t help but crack a smile. I admit, she’s right about that. Not that I’ve seen a lot of barely clothed cowboys working on a ranch. None, actually. But I can’t help thinking of the image I saw of Kade on social media, the one that got me here in the first place.
Lyla laughs again and gets a dreamy look on her face, her infectious happy nature rubbing off on me a little bit. I like the way she’s not afraid to be herself and say whatever she’s thinking. It’s something I wish I could’ve done more, especially when I was her age. My early twenties would’ve been a lot easier if I wasn’t always trying to be what others—what Derek—wanted. Now look where I am…about to be a ranch hand?
“What do you say?” she asks when I don’t say anything after another moment. “I know it’s not exactly ideal, but everyone there is awesome and will welcome you with open arms.”
I mull over the idea. Part of me wants to say no, but I do need a place to live. And another job will not only help me with my finances but will also fill my days with something other than reading Derek’s stupid messages or thinking about how my life has gone completely off the rails.
I twirl a lock of purple hair around my finger and meet Lyla’s gaze. “You really think I can work on a ranch? I’m kind of scared of riding horses, and I’ve never mucked a stall, whatever that means.”
She shrugs like that’s no big deal. “I think you can do anything you put your mind to, Presley.”
My eyes sting, and I swallow down the sadness that clogs my throat. There were so many times I wished my parents would say something like that to me. So many times I wished they’d encouraged me to go after my dreams, that they’d been a solid and supportive part of my life. But they never were. Once my dad moved to California, he hardly had any interest in my life. And my mom and her new husband were quick to brush me aside every chance they got, especially when my half-sister was born just as I turned fifteen.
Lyla cocks her head at me, a look in her eye that says, Come on Presley, do it.
And maybe I should. If anything, it’s something new. Different. Like when I dyed my hair purple and thought it would lead me to finding a new version of myself after Derek and I broke up. But this time, I’m in a new place surrounded by new people who have no influence over me. Isn’t that why I came to this town—to figure out how to start over and not be the same scared Presley I’ve been for so long now?
I inhale a deep breath and make a decision that might be considered rash, but I’m going to roll with it. What’s one more rash decision on top of the ones I’ve already made ?
“Alright, if Blake is okay with a worker who has no experience.”
“Trust me, she will be. She’ll just be glad for the help on such short notice.”
“Then you can tell her I’m interested.”
Lyla claps and does a little happy dance. “I’ll text her now!” With a grin on her face, she takes out her cell from her back pocket and taps out a text message. She goes back and forth for a minute before looking back up at me.
“Okay! The job is yours.”
My eyes widen. “That’s it? Does she not want to meet me or anything?”
“I vouched for you, and so did Jake,” she says as if it’s nothing at all. But I’m glad to hear I made a good impression on them both despite what my inner thoughts made up. “I’ll give you Blake’s number, and you can chat with her more about the job. If you get there and decide it’s not for you, you can leave with no hard feelings, and we’ll help you figure something else out.”
“This town is really trusting,” I say, thinking about how Jake hired me just from a phone interview with limited experience. Now, I’m going to be a ranch hand with no experience. I feel as if I’m living in some weird fever dream. But nope, just a very small town.
“Something you learn in Randall is that we take care of our own. And you, Presley…” She throws her arms around me again. “You’re one of ours now.”
I gently squeeze her back, tears stinging my eyes at her words. “Thanks, Lyla.”
“It was nothing.” She pulls back. “Thanks for being so understanding and not getting angry, not that I thought you would. You’re too nice!”
She has no idea how true her words are. Even though people in my life have not been nice to me, I have been way too nice to them. It’s how I’ve gotten in trouble and become a doormat. It’s how I let people like Derek walk all over me and take advantage of my kindness.
“You don’t have to move out right away,” Lyla continues. “My brother comes back in two days, but he can stay up at the house on the couch until you figure out everything with Blake.”
“Thanks, Lyla.”
After she sends me Blake’s number and we say our goodbyes, I sit on my bed and open a blank text to my new boss that I haven’t even met or spoken to.
I sigh. Am I really going to do this? Work on a ranch? Now I’ll be around people all day and night, which wasn’t exactly part of my plan. I just hope I’ll be able to play my fiddle without people hearing. The last thing I want is for anyone to find out I play right now, not until I figure out what it is I even want.
Gosh, was I stupid for agreeing to this? I don’t know if I’m cut out for ranch work. I know it will be hard work, which I’m not opposed to—I love working hard. It makes me feel accomplished. But working outside? Working with farm animals? I also don’t do well in the heat and sun for long periods of time. But I guess that’s what water and sunscreen is for.
I lay on the creaky twin bed and stare up at the ceiling just as my phone vibrates. I don’t have to look at it to know who it is, but I do anyway.
DEREK: The band wants to talk to you. You’re acting selfish, P.
P. He knows I hate when he calls me that. The freaking asshole. My vision goes blurry, and the feeling of failure, of being unsure of myself, creeps back in—or should I say intensifies since I don’t think those feelings ever left. Changing my location didn’t change my personality.
When my phone vibrates with another message, I don’t read it—I simply swipe up to clear the notification then open the text to Blake and send her a message. I can’t go back to my old life. I just can’t. There’s a reason I turned my life upside down and came here. I need to see where this leads, if only to prove to myself that Derek doesn’t rule over me anymore.
When my phone vibrates again, thankfully, it’s Blake.
BLAKE: Let’s meet Wednesday morning. I’ll send you the address.
With a renewed sense of determination, I send her a confirmation message then shut my eyes, holding my phone to my chest. I guess I’m really going to do this. I’m going to be a ranch hand. If only college Presley could see me now.