33. Lara
”Dad?” I pull the TV dinner from the microwave and bring it to the table. ”We had Salisbury steak last night.” I sit across from him.
I”ve started to call him Dad now.
He looks at me from across the table. ”I”ll grab something else next time.”
”Or maybe we can give up this family dinner thing altogether.”
”We”re still a family.”
I let out a scoff. ”Yeah, right.”
He puts his fork down. ”What was that?”
”Nothing,” I deadpan. ”I”m just sick of frozen dinners.”
He sits back and points to the oven with his fork. ”If you”d like to make something else, be my guest. I”m working all day and don”t have the time or energy to cook when I get home. And maybe if you helped out occasionally, we”d have something better than Salisbury steak in a tray.”
I let my fork drop into my food. ”I”m going out.” I get up from the table.
”Wait, Lara… wait.” He holds up his hand and pauses for a moment. ”You”re not going anywhere. You”ve been out every night this week. Take this one off.”
I lean against the counter, arms crossed. ”I don”t want to stay here. I”ll go crazy if I do.”
”If you had more direction in your life, you wouldn”t feel so stir-crazy.”
”Really?” I slam my fist on the counter. ”You think I don”t have direction? Maybe you should stay out of my business.”
He jumps up from the table. ”Sit down and finish your dinner.” His tone is threatening. ”Now.”
Rolling my eyes, I plop in my chair and grab my fork. ”Now I”m really going out tonight.”
”To get drunk? Don”t think I don”t know… You might think I”ve been asleep when you come stumbling home, but I”m not.”
”You don”t know anything.” I throw my fork down and push my chair back. ”Fuck this. I”m getting the hell out of here.”
”Lara,” he roars. ”Don”t use that kind of language in our home.”
”Our home?” I shout back. ”You call this a home? This isn”t a fucking home. It”s a fucking prison. At least they got out.”
My dad”s face turns white, and he shrinks five inches.
I instantly regret the words, but I can”t take them back.
I can”t be here.
I have to get away.
Right now.
”J-just—just whatever,” I shout.
”If you come home drunk one more time—” He pauses. ”You can find another place to live.”
My mouth drops as I turn to him. ”You”re kicking me out?”
”If you don”t change your ways… I won”t have a choice… I know you”re hurting, but your behavior isn”t the right answer. And if you continue down this path, you won”t be doing it under my roof.”
”Fine by me,” I storm at him, feeling so angry I could spit. ”Kick me out—see if I fucking care, Dad.”
I storm down the front hall and out the door, half thinking he”ll lock the door behind me. I run to the barn and go to Coco”s stall. She”s calmly munching on her hay.
”Hey, girl. Up for a ride?” I ask, trying to stem the anger coursing through my veins. A good, long ride will set me straight. And then I can figure out how to face my father again.
I shouldn”t have said what I said… he”s never threatened to throw me out of the house. But if that”s what he”s set on, then so be it.
So fucking be it!
It”s not like we”re a loving family anymore.
It”s not like we”re a family at all.
Maybe it”s time I leave.
I don”t have a job, I”m not in school… and I don”t have a good relationship with anyone. My friends from before don”t call anymore, and Dylan—he”s gone, too.
After I saddle Coco, I take her out to the pasture and throw open the gate. We ride across the field as tears stream down my face.
How has everything gone downhill?
I go out every night and come back drunk… I sleep until noon and spend most of my time with Coco until it”s time to go out again.
Is this what I want for my life? To wander with no direction?
And then… Amanda.
In losing my sister, I”ve lost myself, and I don”t know how to get over it. Neither did Mother. She left instead of figuring it out. I guess that”s what”s happening to me.
I need to go somewhere.
But I don”t want to leave Wyoming and everyone, even if they don”t want me anymore. I want everything like it used to be. And I want Dylan and me to return to the way things were. But I”ve hurt him.
I urge Coco into a lope across the field. Then I see something ahead. It”s another rider. Whoever they are, I don”t care. They can be on their way and leave me the hell alone.
”Lara?”
It”s Dylan.
Of course, Dylan would be out here when I”m crying.
I turn Coco and gallop hard the other way. But he catches up with me quickly.
He sidles next to Coco, and I slow down for the benefit of my horse.
”Leave me alone, Dylan.” I let out a sniffle as I turn Coco again.
He reaches out to grab my reins and brings Coco to a stop. ”I don”t think so.”
”Just go away.”
He gets down from his horse while still holding Coco”s reins, then pulls me from my saddle. I try to kick him, but he keeps a tight grip on my middle. When he finally puts me on my feet, I push him hard in the chest.
”You”re going to get hurt ridin” like that,” he says. ”It”s like you”ve got a death wish or something.”
”So what? It”s not any of your business.”
Dylan sighs. ”You want to talk?”
”No. I don”t.”
”Did you… did you… did you get into a fight with your dad? Or is it that guy?”
”Just stop. I know your favorite thing is to try and fix me, but I don”t need your help.”
”Why do you have to be like this? Coming out riding as you are, with tears running down your face—something”s going on. Just talk to me.”
He puts his arms around me, and for a second, I close my eyes and lean into him. But I can”t do this.
I can”t let him take care of me… that”s not who I am.
That”s not what I want to be, either… some weak little girl who can”t handle her own problems. I push away from him and step back to Coco. ”I fought with my dad, and that”s it.”
”It must”ve been a bad one,” Dylan says, retaking Coco”s reins.
I let out a big sigh. ”He thinks I”ve been drinking too much.”
”Well… you have.”
Anger flares up in me. ”Screw you.”
”Look, I”m not trying to pick a fight. But you have to admit you”ve been going out a lot.”
I let out a sarcastic laugh. ”And why do you think that is?”
Dylan grabs my hand.
I pull away.
”It”s clear you don”t want to talk, but maybe you need to.” He grabs my wrist and pulls me to him. ”You lost your little sister in a bad way. And I know it hurts.”
I can”t fight anymore. I collapse into his arms and sob loudly. His hands are soothing on my back as I tremble uncontrollably. He”s right… I push my feelings and thoughts away.
Amanda dying. Mother leaving. Growing apart from Dad. We”re never going to be a family again. It”s all gone, and I”ve been doing everything I can to avoid the reality that my life has changed for the worse.
I”m not the same person I was before and I”ll never be again.
”Let it out,” Dylan says, rubbing my back. ”Lean on me.”
My knees give out, and I drop to the ground. Dylan catches me, ensuring I don”t hurt myself, and we sit together.
I can”t say anything. I stare at the ground.
”Just sit,” he says, stroking my arm. ”I”m not going anywhere.”
I close my eyes, inhaling his scent.
”I know you”re all big and strong… but I don”t need this. Like this.”
Dylan shakes his head. ”This is what people do when their friends need help.”
I gather my knees to my chest and lean away from him.
”Don”t be cold.”
”I just don”t see the need to talk about my feelings constantly.”
Dylan gets to his feet and dusts off his jeans. ”You”d rather keep it in?”
”I”m telling you, I don”t need you to be there for me.” I get to my feet and gather Coco”s reins. ”You need to start respecting boundaries. And you can start with the fact that you”re on my land. Go home.”
Dylan kicks the dirt with his boot and stalks to his horse. ”You”ve got to take on everything and don”t need anybody? Got it.”
I get in the saddle. ”Shut up, Dylan.”
”If that”s what you want, babe… you”ve got it.” He takes off toward home.
Fuck him.
”Come on, Coco. Let”s go.”
We take off at a gallop. I don”t know where we”re going, but I also don”t care. My anger is boiling, and I”m ready to ride all night. It isn”t like I”ve got anywhere to be…
If I go home, Dad and I”ll get into it again, and I”m not ready for that. Maybe I should wait until we”ve cooled off to talk. I need to apologize for what I said, but there”s no way I”m doing that right now.
I need to ride.
I need to get all this pent-up anger and pent-up sorrow out. I need to ride for Amanda. For Mother. For leaving me behind to face life without them.
I need to ride.
I urge Coco into a faster gallop.
We”re gaining speed, and the wind thrashing through my hair is good.
I”m starting to cool down?—
But then Coco lets out a shriek as her front legs buckle. She”s tripped on something, and I fly out of the saddle at a high speed.
God, no!
I let go of her reins and grab for her neck as I fly forward, but my fingers slip. It”s all happening so fast. I”m going to hit the ground, and I can do nothing about it.
But then I”m jerked to a stop like I”m suspended, and my foot twists painfully. I let out a scream as Coco struggles to get her footing. She lets out a loud groan and jerks violently to the side. She”s scared, especially since I”m hanging off her now, and she”s also moving, so she doesn”t step on me.
I need to get out of this position. I need to get out from under her hooves and land somewhere I won”t get hurt.
My mind races, trying to figure out what to do when Coco takes the matter on herself. She rears up, dislodging my boot from the stirrup, and I fall in a disgraceful heap on a patch of grass. As I try to sit up, Coco is still collecting herself, and I”m still dangerously close to her.
Without warning, her back hoof hits me in the head, and she splays her legs and stands still. A ringing goes off in my head as something hot and sticky trickles down my face. I need to get up. I need to get home and find help.
Tiny black spots appear in my vision, and everything feels light like I”m floating.
I put my hand on the side of my face, then let it fall to my lap. Looking down, I see my hand is full of blood.
I have to get up…. need to get home.