“No, Lucas, fuckyou.” I sneer at him in an attempt to hide the tears starting to build and whirl on my heel. There’s no denying that I’m running away this time. “Stay the fuck away from me.”
LUCAS
“Stay thefuckaway from me,” Jenny spits, more vicious than I’ve ever heard her.
She turns to storm off, but I move before I can think about it. I snag her wrist, refusing to let go even when she puts all her strength into yanking her hand back.
“You don’t get to walk off!” I snap, tugging her a few inches closer to make my point damn well clear. “I’m fucking sorry if I pissed you off back then, sorry that everything didn’t go the way you wanted. Maybe if youtalkedto me instead of expecting me to read your mind, we could still be friends!”
It’s a shit apology, coming out more angry than contrite, but I can’t deny that I mean it. Communication was always our issue, and it’s unfair to blame it all on her, but at least I’m tryingnow.
“Oh, we could? How fucking kind of you, Cross. You know better than that — you’ve always taken the easy road, never fought for a goddamn thing! Nothing I could have said back then would have made things go any differently.”
“Shut the fuck up, Jenny, before you piss me off.” My voice drops an entire octave as her words hit right where she was aiming. I don’t bare my teeth, but it’s a near thing. Sheknowsbetter, saw how I grew up. I thought she understood. “Youclearly don’t know a fuckingthingabout what I would’ve done for you. If you want this to be how we are these days, then so fucking be it. I’ll stay away from you, you stay away from me.”
I drop her wrist like I’ve been burned, the touch of her skin too much to handle right now. The words tear my throat like razors as they come out, but I’m too angry to be hurt. That’ll come later, when I can breathe again.
“Fine!” she snaps.
“Fine!” I shout right back.
We stare at each other, eyes wide and chests heaving, a million unsaid words hanging in between us. It was never like this when we were younger. We were never angry, not even when we couldn’t find the right words to say. Things have changed, but now we’re stuck in this same place, and I hate that I can’t just forget all about it.
I don’t stop her this time when she turns and storms out of the barn. The door doesn’t close all the way behind her, and I stare in defeated silence until she disappears into the house again.
Guilt clogs my chest at the thought of things going differently between us. Then or now.
The blame doesn’t entirely fall on me, but I know that I could have tried harder. She was always so certain of herself, of her plans, always knew exactly what she wanted. I was never part of those plans, at least not when she spoke them out loud. Leaving before she could dump me was partly self-preservation, but my biggest reason was because I was scared she’d stick around out of pity. I was terrified of dragging her down along with me.
Parting ways seemed like the best idea back then.
Now, I wish I would have at least talked to her about it. She deserved a real answer, an honest reason.
I’m not foolish enough to delude myself into thinking she’s pissed because she wanted to stay together. Jenny always aimedfor the sky, and I’ve always kept my feet firmly on the ground, only reaching for what was easily attainable. She was a dream come true back then, but I never let myself pretend we would be more than high school sweethearts.
I shouldn’t have made her think that it was easy for me to walk away, though.
I shouldn’t have yelled at her just now, either.
I’ve gotten better about talking since I left home. Therapy did me good while I went, and I learned a lot about myself. It’s been ages since I exploded like that, but Jenny’s always been good at riling me up.
And tonight was just one thing after another.
I huff a breath out through my nose and turn the feed room light off before heading back toward my trailer, my mind whirling with confusion and anger. It’s probably best to just shower and go the hell to sleep, but I can’t stop my thoughts from winding back around to Jenny.
Even as I strip and go through the motions of getting the shower ready, all I can think about is her.
She’s not wrong about me taking the easy road when given the option, but I’ve never seen any reason to make life harder on myself. Growing up the way I did was rough enough — always home alone while Dad worked himself to the bone just to keep the power on, TV dinners and studying sessions made pointless by the neighbors either screaming or partying. The only solace I had back then was Jenny.
It didn’t get easier when I left, either.
My grades were always mediocre, but I had to work my ass off just to keep them at the bare minimum to keep my scholarship. Every game ended with an injury, and they only got worse as time went on. When my ACL finally tore, it meant the death of my football career before I’d even really gotten started. Medical bills piled up, I lost my scholarship, wound up inbumfuck, Utah with nothing to fall back on. If Dad hadn’t gotten sick, I’d probably still be there, stocking shelves at the grocery store and wasting my life away.
I thought things might be better here, but I’m as useless on the ranch as I’ve always been at everything. Everett’s keeping me around to handle the grunt work, but there’s no guarantee of how long that’ll last. He’s only doing it out of pity and whatever he feels like he owes my dad, anyway.
I shake my head sharply, meeting my own eyes in the fog of the mirror, and sternly tell myself to stop fucking thinking.
It’s not helping anything, and I don’t have unlimited hot water.
