Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
THEN
M argot Arnold is hosting a house party tonight to celebrate last night’s win against the Titans. Word about the party has been circulating all day, details about the “exclusive” invite list causing anxiety-riddled rumblings amongst the various group chats I’m a part of. I knew I’d be going to Margot’s with Jason either way—perks of dating the quarterback—but I was thrilled when a text from Margot herself chimed from my phone this afternoon. It seems being a cheerleader has its perks, too.
I’m still coming down from the rush of it all—the high of my bright red pom-poms sparkling under stadium lights, of Jason’s lips on mine when he couldn’t wait another second. Only a month into high school, I already feel like I’ve made it, and it’s all I can do to wrestle the lingering panic that it’s all too good to be true. That I eventually might have to piece myself back together when this all comes crumbling down.
For now, though, I plan on enjoying the spoils.
Jason picked me up from my house an hour ago, and now we’re back at the Bennett ranch sitting on stacked bales of hay and watching Kasey ride an unruly horse inside a different training corral from the one Wells was in during my first time here. Apparently, breaking wild horses is part of the gig; the Bennetts run a rescue ranch of sorts, taking in horses from all over the country that need rehabilitation before moving them on to their next homes. Jason told me that wild mustangs are dropped off here every month by the Bureau of Land Management as they work to preserve both the horses and federally-protected land.
I don’t understand how taking wild horses out of their natural habitats and bringing them here is a good thing. It’s a thought that nags at me as I watch the beautiful mare do her best to hurl Kasey off her back—I don’t blame her for a second for wanting him off.
Wells sits next to Jason and me, drinking beer from a silver can. He and Jay are both sixteen and I know drinking is normal for them by now—they’ve probably had years of experience. But Wells didn’t offer me one, and I know it’s because he thinks I’m too young. He didn’t offer Jason one either, I guess, but I assume that’s because Jason is driving.
“I gotta piss,” Jason says, breaking the silence that’s not quite comfortable between us all yet as he kisses me on the cheek. “I’ll be right back. Wells, you need another beer?”
Wells shakes his head. “We gotta go soon.”
Jason nods. “Cool. Won’t be long, and then we can leave.”
“What kind of horse is that?” I ask, pointing to the black-and-white-spotted one that Kasey’s riding. She’s the prettiest horse I’ve ever seen, and my heart still snags on the sudden loss of her freedom. The way she’s trapped here now.
“She’s an Appaloosa,” he says, taking another sip of his beer. “We just got her last week.”
“What’s her name?”
“Doesn’t have one.” I get the sense he’s only obliging my sudden burst of questions in some vague attempt to make nice after how things went down the last time I was here. Wells has refrained from frowning in my direction since then, but he still hasn’t warmed up to me at school.
“Well, she needs a name.” I’m fascinated by her markings, by the sheer strength in her legs and the fierce spirit in her eyes as she tries to buck Kasey off the saddle. There’s no doubt she’s a mean one, and I feel a flare of pride at her stubborn refusal to submit. I think it’s part of what makes her so beautiful. “Stardust,” I whisper.
“What?” Wells asks, turning to face me, eyes blooming with surprise in a way I haven’t seen before.
“Stardust. That’s her name,” I say with confidence. She looks like the night sky, speckled with an abundance of stars. Wells continues to look at me for a long moment before he shakes his head, his gaze moving back to his brother. “Does it hurt her?” I can’t help but risk another question.
“You’re gonna have to be more specific, sunshine.”
I roll my eyes. “Breaking a horse,” I clarify. “And I told you, stop calling me that.”
He sighs. “No, it doesn’t hurt her. It gives her a purpose, gives her some structure to hold on to. Something she can count on.”
“Hm,” I consider, watching as Stardust thrashes around. “Maybe she doesn’t want that.”
“What do you mean?” I keep my focus on the horse in front of me, but I feel Wells’s eyes on me again. They burn against my skin.
I shrug. “Maybe not all of them want to be broken. Maybe some of them want to live forever wild.” I turn to find his brows scrunched together. There’s a divot between them that looks big enough to sink a finger into. He’s looking at me like I’m a puzzle, like he’s studying the pieces that he’s holding in his hand and trying to find where they fit. “Please don’t break her.”
The sun is sinking low in the sky, and golden flecks sparkle in his otherwise earthy brown eyes. After what feels like several minutes (even though I know it’s only seconds), he turns to look back at Stardust, and I’m surprised when he nods.
“You guys ready?” Jason calls from the back porch where he’s pulling his boots back on.
“Yeah,” Wells yells back. He stands up and leaves me where I’m sitting without another look.
I push out a breath, stealing another glance at Stardust before I, too, stand from the makeshift bench, brushing pieces of the dried hay from where they’ve sunk into my bare legs. Jason and Wells wait for me next to Jason’s Mustang, and Jason pulls open the passenger door as I approach. “Milady.” He smiles at me, and I giggle before climbing in.
Wells jumps into the back seat, sitting behind me. As Jason rounds the car to get in on the other side, I turn to look at Wells. “Do you have enough room back there?”
He shoots me a look that I’m not able to read. “Yeah.”
Jason gets in and starts the ignition. “Wells, do you think they have enough beer?”
“Probably not.”
I turn my focus to Jason. “Am I going to have to drive you home tonight?”
He flashes me a bright smile. “Maybe.”
I laugh because we both know I don’t have my license yet, but there’s a slight trepidation that coils in my stomach. I don’t want to show it, though—the last thing I want to do is prove my own naiveté.
My gaze moves back to the road in front of us and I feel it as soon as Jason presses on the gas, like a zipper up my spine. This moment in time. The anticipation of what’s to come on this early fall night as I toe the line between childhood and . . . whatever comes next. Like going to a high school party on the arm of a gorgeous, older guy.
It’s a moment of rightness . It feels a lot like fate.
“We can go to that convenience store between here and Williamson County,” Wells mumbles from behind me.
“They have beer?” Jason asks.
“Yeah.”
“Do you still have Rhett’s ID?” Jason looks at his best friend in the rearview, and my mind traces down the line of Bennett brothers. Rhett is the middle one. The wildest one. Story goes he’s the one who burned down the old gazebo on Main a few years ago. No one’s ever been able to officially prove anything, but town gossip places Rhett in a drunken rage torching the place after a girl stood him up. Folks from around town came together to rebuild it, and the surrounding grass eventually grew back, but no one forgets something like that here. An open skeleton in this family’s closet.
“Yeah,” Wells repeats. Again .
“You don’t say much,” I mutter as Jason pulls onto the state road that leads to Williamson County. Jason looks at me from behind the steering wheel, but I keep my focus on the view out my window for the short drive past the edge of town. Maybe it was an odd thing to say out loud, but it’s true. Wells doesn’t seem to ever do anything more than what’s required.
We pull into the convenience store and Wells pushes through the door in the back. I watch as he pulls open the wooden door and slips inside the store.
“Be nice, Layla,” Jason warns quietly.
I finally brave a look back at him and am thrown by the disapproval in his eyes. “I am! I didn’t mean it as a bad thing. He’s just kind of quiet.”
He presses his lips together. “Just be nice, okay?” He reaches out to grab my hand, winding his fingers between mine.
I lean my head back on the headrest. “You really love him, don’t you?”
His brow arches. “He’s my best friend. We’ve been through a lot.”
I sigh. “I promise to be nice.”
Jason squeezes my hand and smiles. “Thank you.”
The front door to the store pushes back open a few minutes later, and Wells reemerges with a case of beer in his hands. Something about the way he holds the case, the way his forearms flex with the effort of it, makes him look older. I can picture him as a man: suntanned skin and strong arms from years of football and horse training, his tall build and wide frame driving through the world with the force of a monsoon storm.
“Hell yeah, he got some!” Jason laughs next to me. He lets go of my hand as Wells slides back in. “Any trouble?” Jason asks.
Wells shakes his head. “Nah—no one knows us out here.”
Jason whistles. “It’s a sign, my friend. Tonight is going to be a good one.”
As soon as we pull up to Margot’s house I climb out of the car, suddenly nervous, rubbing my hands along the cotton of my dress to brush out any wrinkles. I look down at myself, and realize how dirty my white Converse look from all the dust at Bennett Ranch.
“You look fine,” Wells mutters from behind me. I turn to look at him, watching as he pulls the case of beer out of the back seat and uses his knee to shut the door while he keeps his eyes on mine.
“I know I do,” I say back, perplexed at his assessment.
He scoffs and stalks toward the house.
Jason comes around the car and takes hold of my hand as we follow Wells through the front door. There are at least a dozen people in the kitchen, some of them holding cans of beer and some with red plastic cups. Liquor bottles are lined along the kitchen’s island along with various two-liters of sodas and gallons of juice. Wells sets his case of beer on the counter next to the kitchen sink and rips through the cardboard. Jason reaches in next and grabs two, stacking them together in one hand.
Wells frowns at him, but Jason doesn’t see it because he’s smiling at me.
He guides me through the crowd gathered in the kitchen to the back door, where other football players stand under a patio awning and next to an in-ground swimming pool.
The daylight bleeds into night as the sun hangs low on the horizon. The loud buzz of cicadas fills the air, sticky with a humidity that won’t quit. Jason’s group of friends celebrate when they see their quarterback. And I realize people are staring at him from all around the backyard . . . staring at him and me, like there’s some gravitational pull that snags everyone’s attention. I guess it makes sense, after last night’s game—it marked the beginning of his place among Mustang royalty. He lets go of my hand to high-five his friends, leaving me to stand a bit awkwardly behind him.
Some of the other players have girls on their arms, but I don’t recognize any of them. I’m relieved not to see Stassi anywhere. The group still eyes me up and down though, probably trying to figure out how a freshman like me ended up here with someone as bright and shiny as Jason. One of the girls—a redhead with curly hair and freckles dusting her face—gives me a warm smile, reaching a hand out. “Hi, I’m Haley.”
I wrap my hand around hers, giving her a light squeeze in thanks. “Layla,” I say back. “Nice to meet you.”
She comes to stand next to me, eyeing Jason. “You’re here with Jay?”
“Yeah,” I respond, looking at him too. He’s laughing with the guys as they recount a play from last night, his handsome face curled in delight. “We just started dating.”
She smiles wider. “Nice! I’m Matt’s girlfriend.” She nods toward the tall blond she was just standing next to. He’s the kicker from last night’s game. “We’ve been together since last year. Matt and Jason are pretty close—I bet we’ll be seeing much more of each other.”
I’m thrilled at Haley’s open kindness. “That sounds great to me,” I say, my nose scrunched from my returning smile. “Do you play any sports?”
She shakes her head. “No, I’m not very athletic. My parents made me play soccer growing up, but I was terrible at it. You?”
I shrug. “I cheer. I actually cheer for Jason on the varsity squad.”
“Oh! That’s amazing! I swear, cheerleaders have, like, the best bodies.”
I laugh, but then my eyes are back on Jason because he’s reaching for my face. His fingers slide up and across my cheeks, sending a wave of goosebumps down my neck. “Hey, are you good out here for a minute? I’m going to go get some beers for the guys.”
I nod, twisting back toward Haley with a smile. “Yeah! I’m good.” The guys around us follow Jason, and Haley and I are left to continue talking.
At some point, I notice Wells on the other side of the pool. He’s surrounded by a group of girls, and it’s obvious that they’re competing for his attention. He doesn’t seem fazed by it though, as he holds easy conversation with them all while sipping from a bottle of water.
Another girl—Megan—joins us, and I listen intently as they trade gossip like it’s candy. I try really hard to stay engaged in the conversation, but it’s honestly hard to keep up. I’m still getting my bearings on who’s who, and the way Haley and Megan talk about other people makes me feel like I’m in the middle of a pop quiz I didn’t study for.
The sun has fully disappeared, and Jason still hasn’t come back out of the house—it’s been at least a half hour since he went in there. I steal a glance across the pool to find that Wells has also disappeared. After Megan finishes telling a story about some girl who fully sat in a piece of chewed gum that someone had spit out in her chair—yikes—I politely excuse myself.
Inside, the music is turned up so loud I can’t hear my own thoughts, and there are way more people here than before. Most of the lights in the house have been turned off, the living room lit only by the glow of music videos that play on the big screen TV anchored to the wall. A beer pong table has been set up down a hallway, and I spot Jason standing next to Matt on the far side of it. Both of them are holding red plastic cups as they play against two guys I recognize as Brad and Ethan. I clock Stassi and Erin standing near them, surrounded by dozens of other girls who hang around the table.
Wells is standing behind Jason, and he looks frustrated.
I push through a few people and sidle up to Jason. It takes him a few minutes to realize I’m here, but the concentration in his brow loosens when he does. “Layla.” He kisses me on the cheek, his lips hot and wet against my skin. “Where have you been?”
I narrow my eyes. “Out back, where you left me.”
He slaps a hand on his forehead. “Shit, I’m sorry. Matty and I got roped into a game and we keep winning . . . you know how it goes.” He has the audacity to smirk at me.
A swell of irritation bubbles up my throat because I don’t actually know how this goes. Jason is supposed to be my lifeline. He’s supposed to be hanging out with me here, isn’t he? It’s obvious he’s drunk. I look around and realize that everyone is drunk.
Except for Wells, who’s looking back and forth between Jason and me with that frown marring his mouth.
“I want to go home,” I say when I turn back to Jason. But he doesn’t hear me, because Ethan just made the ball in a cup and everyone around us cheers. I watch as Jason picks up the cup, swiping the ball out of it with his finger before dropping it into the nearby water cup, chugging the contents of the one in his hand.
“Jesus,” Wells mutters. He shakes his head and leans in so I can hear him through all the noise. Or maybe it’s so that Jason doesn’t hear him —I’m not sure—but either way he’s so close I can smell traces of leather on his skin. “Let him finish this game,” he says low, “because I don’t think I can tear him away otherwise. But then we’ll take you home. I promise.”
Concern rips through me, the trepidation from earlier coiling tighter. “Jason drove us. He can’t drive now.”
“I’ll drive.” My eyes drop to the water bottle in his hands before they rise to meet his. He gives me a tight, barely there smile, but his eyes are hard to read. “I haven’t had anything to drink. I figured this might happen.”
“Oh.” I’m not sure what to make of that. I don’t want to be a brat, but I’m annoyed that Jason can’t drive me home himself. That he didn’t think of me before getting to this state. “Thank you,” I mutter. Wells gives me a shrug and steps back behind Jason.
The game lasts for another twenty minutes after a standoff when both sides are down to only one cup. More and more people have crowded around the table to see the end of the game. But the more I stand here, the more upset that I feel.
Jason barely looks at me, hardly acknowledging that I’m next to him. He’s so wrapped up in the competition and, honestly, I’m surprised he’s even holding it together because I can see how glassy his eyes are. How he stumbles over his own feet when he attempts to throw.
Finally, a guy on the other team sinks the ball into the last cup. And before Jason can reach for it, Wells scoops it up and pushes it into Matt’s chest. “You drink this, Matty. Jay’s coming with me.”
Jason gives Wells a confused look as Wells herds him toward the door, keeping a firm grip around his arms in what I’m sure is an effort to hold him upright. “What the hell, Wells? Party’s just getting started!”
“Not for you. We’re going home.”
I follow behind Wells as he continues to push Jason toward the door. He tries to twist away, but Wells shoves him harder, finally getting him out into the humid night air. “What the fuck, Wells?” Jason yells as he scampers across the lawn, trying to find his balance. “We don’t have to leave, we can just crash on the couch. What’s the big deal?”
Wells walks away from him, shaking his head at the sky with an expression that conveys absolutely no joy. But then he stops abruptly and charges toward his best friend. “The big deal, you fucking moron, is you have a girl with you tonight. Or did you forget about Layla? You think her parents will be cool if she just doesn’t make it home?”
I suck in my teeth at his frustration. Jason looks at where I’m standing on the front porch and his face twists in shame. “Aw, shit, Layla. I’m sorry.”
I stare at him for a long minute before I push out a breath. “It’s fine.” And then I walk across the yard, past Jason and Wells who both watch me, and head for the Mustang. I hear the locks click when I get close, and I pull open the passenger door and climb in, slamming it shut behind me.
They argue for another minute, then Jason sprawls out in the back and Wells is in the driver’s seat, giving me a long look as he adjusts the steering wheel and starts the car.
The ride to my house is silent, the only words spoken are a few directions to help navigate. At some point, Jason falls asleep, and when Wells finally pulls up along my curb, he doesn’t wake.
Wells shifts the car into park and looks at me again before he speaks. “I’m sorry about him,” he says, assessing me. His eyes move across my face with a determination that makes me feel exposed, and I don’t like it.
“Don’t stick up for him. He can face it himself.”
He huffs out a laugh, and I’m struck by the lines that form around his eyes as he does, etching into tan skin. He shakes his head. “Don’t be too hard on him, sunshine. We aren’t used to having a girl like you around.”
My brows scrunch together. “A girl like me? What’s that supposed to mean?”
He stares at me for another long moment before he sighs. “Nothing. I’ll wait until you get inside.”
I want to press him further, but I’m also starting to sense something dangerous about Wells, and I’ve had enough go wrong tonight. “Thanks for getting me home,” is what I settle on.
He nods, and I go through the motions of slipping out of the car and inside my house, knowing it’s well past my curfew. But before I tiptoe up the stairs, I sneak a quick look out the front window and watch Wells drive away.