Cherry sneers and I revel in the reaction.
‘I know what you’re saying, and I do agree, but … I think our perceptions of what is fun and meaningful has been warped, that the best things in life are those that look good to other people, or on social media, when your life is more than a few photos or stories. It’s thousands of individual days, made up of little moments, and it’s not appreciating those that makes life dull and uninspiring. People are so eager to go after bigger and better, but … what if you have everything you need right now with you?’
That last bit being more for me than anything else. To convince myself not to give in to that offer from my friend on the new bar. Because it would be giving up too much in Willow Ridge, where I’m already happy. Where all my friends are family are, where they need me – I mean, who’s going to lend Wyatt an extra hand on the ranch when cattle needs moving, or fences need fixing? He didn’t welcome a grief-stricken ten-year-old me into his family just to be cast aside because an opportunity for a bit more cash came up.
‘And you thinkI’vebeen spending too much time with Rory? That sounds like you read it straight from one of her Instagram posts.’ Cherry giggles. ‘I don’t getit, though, what little moments would someone on their deathbed think back to?’
I pick up my laptop that I’d rested on the counter, aware that I could easily stay here for hours with her but let out a fake yawn to signal otherwise. ‘Plenty of things – like being able to watch the sunset while having a drink with your friends. Like a rainy afternoon inside painting. Like the sense of freedom you get riding down the backroads on your motorcycle, the wind whipping against your—’
‘Ooh!’ Cherry jumps down from the bar, landing inches away from me. I have nowhere to run. Her glistening eyes peer up at me with too much hope. ‘Ride a motorcycle is on my bucket list.’
‘No way,’ I declare.
‘What do you mean,no way?’ She inches closer, as if she knows how hard I find it to say no to her.
I swallow before I can reply. ‘I’m not letting you ride my bike. I know what that brain of yours is thinking.’
‘What if I just sat on the back?’
Can’t say it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, having her arms wrapped around me, holding tight—
I shake my head to rid me of the thought. ‘Still no way.’
‘Why not?’ She pouts.
I bring the laptop between us, making her back up a step. Distance is important.
‘Because, Cherry, bikes are dangerous and if anything happened to you, we both know that I’d have to suffer the terrifying wrath of Wyatt. Being his best friend doesn’t make a difference when it comes to you.’
A truth that applies to more than just this hypotheticalsituation. One I have to remind myself every time Cherry comes back to work for me during college breaks. I’ve lost enough people to know that sometimes it’s better to not rock the boat. Not when the very people at risk are the ones that took you in when life became too stormy. The ones who saved up for an extra space on holidays so you didn’t have to miss out when your grandparents didn’t have the capacity to provide you with such. The ones who picked you up from school when you got ill and your grandparents were busy working.
At that, the light in her eyes dims, but then she angles her head, and a hint of mischief reappears. ‘Wyatt doesn’t have to know. We could … keep it a secret?’
I’m certain my gulp is audible.
She might just be talking about a motorcycle ride, but the words apply to too many things. If I was a fool, I’d let myself read into the suggestive cadence of her voice. But, to my utmost disappointment, I’m anything but.
I sigh and slip away from Cherry, already heading towards the door. ‘I’m never lying to my best friend and you’re never getting on my bike. Now, come on, it’s time to go home.’
3
Cherry
I hold my phone between my ear and shoulder as I stir my coffee, listening to Montana’s endless apologies for bailing on me today. The day we were supposed to kickstart my bucket list for the summer with probably one of the most nerve-racking items – aside from the chaotic second half filled with sexual experiences that I’ve been trying to forget Duke saw last Friday.
As if him catching me giving Montana a lap dance wasn’t embarrassing enough. He looked downright appalled atthathalf of the list.
Either way, today was going to be a great distraction from that humiliation – Montana and I were supposed to get tattoos.
‘I just couldn’t say no, Cherry,’ Montana continues explaining, and even though I can’t see her, I bet she’s blinking her big doe eyes at the phone. ‘Austin turned up out of the blue, with the whole day already planned, and activities booked and paid for, bless him.’
I wish I could be annoyed at her, but this might be the first time Montana’s actually found a decent guy who wants her beyond her looks. This Austin guy seems to adore her and the last thing I want is for her to get hurt again. So, if that means allowing her to flake on me today, then I guess I’ll just have to suck it up.
I’m sure we’ll reschedule the tattoos soon, anyway. I know I could go by myself, bite the bullet and ride it solo. But if I was brave enough to do that, I probably wouldn’t need this silly bucket list at all.
‘Honestly, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it,’ I say, knowing it’s hard to expect anyone else to understand why this list is so important. I sip my coffee quickly, its warmth dissipating through me. ‘It’ll give me more time to think about what tattoo I’m gonna get, anyway.’
‘Okay, as long as you’re sure. You’re the best.’ She makes a kissing noise through the phone.
