She steps away from my truck and slowly walks back to the house. But of course I’m not leaving and she’s curious why. Just before she gets to the door, she comes back and I roll the window back down. Again.
“Are you creeping around here for anyone in particular?”
If I could bang my head against the steering wheel I would. “No. I…it’s complicated.” The last thing Olivia would want anyone to know is that she’s on the verge of not graduating. School has been her thing since we were little, and I know how hard she worked to get to the top of our class. I want so badly to be mad at Olivia about this, but no matter what I wanted to do and no matter how stupid the idea was, she was always right there with me. I mean, she was usually outlining why it was a dumb idea and how quickly we would get caught, but she was still there. I guess I’m going to look like a dumbass for sitting out here.
Bianca tilts her head toward the house. “Danlee’s mom got this old guy who plays a fiddle. He’s just about to start. Come see?”
“No. I’m good.”
But she’s opening my door and pulling me out. “Seriously, come on. I heard he’s amazing.”
This is a bad idea. It’s clearly a girl party, and the Evil Joes are in there, but Bianca isn’t taking no for an answer.
“I’ll go in, but we’re staying in the back,” I say.
We weave our way through Danlee’s house to the doors leading to the backyard. A stone path goes down a small hill to a barn and corral area with several horses in the pasture, but it’s the inside of the barn that blows me away. There are lights strung across the ceiling in a crisscross pattern and hay bales topped with a piece of burlap for people to sit on. Big metal troughs are filled with ice and drinks and there’s a long table full of barbecue.
Bianca keeps going, but I dig my heels in. “I’m staying back here or I’m going back to my truck.”
She lets out a huff but gives in. We find two hay bales away from the crowd. Luckily, everyone’s attention is on the old guy on the other side of the barn.
He picks up his fiddle and plucks a couple strings. Then he just goes to town on it. I mean, I’m surprised there’s no smoke rising from his bow. Once he finishes the first song, he invites the girls up for some line dancing. I take this opportunity to film a few seconds of it so I can get Aunt Lisa off my back. Then I snag some ribs because holy cow they smell delicious. After a couple of songs—and a full plate of food—I feel like I’ve stayed long enough, but the old guy starts talking.
“Okay, now it’s time for the real fun! Y’all ready to turn this hoedown into a rodeo?”
He pulls on a rope and what I thought was just the backdrop to his show was really a curtain hiding a massive mechanical bull.
“Who’s ready for their eight seconds?” he yells.
A few groups of girls start giggling and threaten to push each other over there, but no one takes him up on his offer.
And then I feel my arm lifting.
Bianca is holding it up high while waving hers around. “Charlie wants to try!”
What! Charlie does not!
The old dude gestures for me to come forward.
“What’d you do?” I ask her.
Her shoulders draw up to her ears and she gives me a funny look. “No one was volunteering! It felt awkward!”
She pushes me over to where the man is waiting for me while the rest of the girls are clapping and cheering my name.
“I’m going to die,” I say.
“Don’t be so dramatic!” she replies.
Once I’m close enough, he pulls me next to him. “From the chants, I’m guessing you’re Charlie!” he says.
“Yep.” Maybe I shouldn’t have had that second scoop of potato salad. The Evil Joes look positively giddy that I’m up here; their phones are ready to record the carnage.
He hands me a glove and asks, “Need a boost?”
This is already going to be humiliating. I don’t need to add to it, so that’s a firm no. I heave one leg over and try to hop up on the giant thing.
As much as I was hoping I could make it on my first try, I do not. Not my second either.
