Fuck, it’s so hot.
We’ve agreed to wait until we were both seventeen before we lose our V card. Something proving incredible difficult as the days wear on.
Damn stupid teenage hormones and an absolute God of a soulmate.
Thank our sweet lord, our birthdays are not far off.
Six
Maverick
Pulling in front of the Riggins house, the first thing I notice are so many changes to when I was last here. The wood around the door frames a different colour pine stain, darker than they once were.
The newly built timber shed, now housing three trucks, laced with their ranch’s logo. Again, a different logo to what it was when I was younger.
The main thing I notice, is a bungalow build to the west of the house, only a stone’s throw away, it’s lights glowing into the distance.
That wasn’t here before.
Taking a closer look, I notice it has a white porcharound a beautifully created wooden house, large timber door and matching windows. I see a ratan swing taking centre stage of an outdoor seating area. Looking closer my memory comes to a standstill.
It feels familiar.
Staring more closely at the house, I gasp in realisation and take a step back in shock.
That’s our house...
The house that we always said we would build...
The wooden house, all on one floor. The white porch and the swing. I let out a sigh, dragging my hands up onto my hair, the tears building and the sob choking back in my throat.
She built our house.
Holy shit, she's built our fucking house.
But not where we said we would. My shoulder’s sag at the realisation that our dream wasn’t made fully complete.
Looking through the window of my truck, I see a figure through the large glass window.
Shit, Mabel’s in there.
Why would she build our house after what I done? And not do it in the spot we said? Maybe it was too painful? Maybe she built it to be close to Jane and Wyatt. I wonder why for a moment. Thegirl I remember always wanted to build out to the East, in the field,ourfield,ourspot.
Itwasalways our dream.
Without even thinking, I’m pulling on the lock to the door of my truck and swinging it wide open. Hurling myself out, I walk towards the bungalow’s front door, not even bothering to shut the door on my exit.
My palms start to sweat as I drag the heels of my black Ariat’s towards the white porch surrounding her house.
I stop.
What the fuck am I doing?
Go closer.
I hear in my own thoughts.
Knock on the door.
