“It’s fine, Wren.” Heath nudges his shoulder into mine. “We’ve got masks on, we’re dressed in all black, no one is going to suspect us.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” Greer grumbles. “Your dad isn’t the mayor.”
Baker throws an arm around her shoulders. “I’ve got you, G.”
Jett and Levi stop outside a business on their Main Street, the two of them dropping and rummaging in their black backpacks.
“Levi, are you sureyoushould be doing this?” I question, placing a hand on his forearm. “You have a daughter to think about.”
Jett stops what he’s doing and turns to Levi. “Yeah, Welles, Wren’s right. You should bail.”
The two of them stare at each other, their eyes having a conversation before they both burst out laughing.
“Would you idiots shut up?” Davis hisses as he turns his head from side to side, double-checking the coast is clear.
“I’ll be fine, Drummond, but thanks for the concern.” Levi pulls out a jug of acrylic paint.
Jett sidles up next to my side, warmth radiating off him. It’s a crisp fall night, temperatures hovering in the fifties, but whenever he’s near, it feels like we’re on the third rock from the sun. Piercing blue eyes stare at me through his black ski mask as a strong, gentle hand cups the side of my face.
“You don’t have to do this, baby. You can go sit in the truck and wait forus.”
And I know he means that. He’s giving me permission to back out of their antics without making me feel guilty or making fun of me.
If I get caught, my parents will kill me. No matter how much they love the Riggsbys, they’ll know it was Jett’s idea. When I announced two years ago during our sophomore year that Jett and I decided to start dating, my parents weren’t thrilled or surprised. It was inevitable. Our families have been close since the dawn of time, both of our moms are best friends, and our dads work close with each other through their own farming businesses. For as long as I can remember, it was the Riggsbys and the Drummonds.
But now with us dating, things feel different. It might not even be because we're in a relationship, but because of how Jett lives his life. His friend group is made up of Heath Pierce, Baker Holmes, Davis Baldwin, and Levi Welles, nothing but heathens—the town’s wild pack of chaos. Somewhere along the way, Greer Emerson and I joined their ranks—although we aren’t nearly as wild as the boys.
While the boys are reckless with their lives ninety percent of the time, tonight I’m choosing to be reckless with them. Deep down, there’s always been this part of me that wants to lean into my rebellious side. It all stemmed from a Thanksgiving when I fell for a dare. Seeing the shock on someone’s face when I go against the grain sparks this light inside me.
Tonight, we’re painting the town green and white, which wouldn’t be a shock since those are our school’s colors…but we aren’t in our town.
It’s rivalry week, and tomorrow night, Jett, Davis, and Heath will take the field with the rest of the football team and hopefully beat the Oilers.
Movement from inside the store startles me out of the memory of us vandalizing windows withGo HawksandOilers Suck. It wasn’t my finest moment, but it was fun, and we never got caught. Although there were definitely speculations about who was involved, no one could prove it. We ran through the streetslaughing before hopping into Baker’s truck. With the windows down, hands out in the wind as music blared from the speakers, we felt free. Felt alive with only the moonlight as our witness.
I wave at the owner who’s staring back at me. Mentally, I make a note to come back to the shop. This is what I want now—pieces of home I can carry into the cottage that’s foreign to me. Not the latest trend from the expensive home decor stores or boutiques that line Rodeo Drive.
Silo Bay’s Main Street has looked the same for decades. A two-lane road runs through town, lined with tall brick buildings. Over the years, most of the buildings have been revitalized to keep up with the demand of new businesses coming into town. It’s clear it’s been a labor of love, especially within the last decade. When I moved away, there were only a few businesses, but now, there are dozens. Each one brings their own uniqueness while maintaining the small-town charm.
Welles Farm & Feed, owned and operated by Levi’s parents, still sits on the corner with an alley running beside the store to the back of the building for larger pickups. The store had the best candy selection. I remember stopping in to visit Levi at work and grabbing handfuls of gummy rings—the apple flavor was my favorite–and saltwater taffy. The guys always chose candy cigarettes. Of course, they did.
The breeze funnels down the street, wrapping me in a cool blanket as I make my way deeper into the town I used to know like the back of my hand. Matcha lingers on my tongue as I pass Ember & Ivory, a boutique owned by a friend who moved out of Silo Bay and never returned, much like I thought I would. Leighton started her own fashion line that mixes high fashion with her country roots and decided to open a storefront in Silo Bay. Inside the store, she has a variety of pieces priced to support the local economy. I’m not ashamed to admit that seventy percent of my wardrobe consists of Ember & Ivory. Too bad that collection is sitting in a closet in LA…
But it’s the window display next door that catches my attention. Black-framed windows with greenery hanging from the ceiling. Brown leather couches and chairs around a circular coffee table. A large black-and-white portrait of a horse with its mane flying draws me closer. But it’s the name on the window that has me pushing through the glass doors.Wild Mane Salon.
The bell above the door jingles when I push it open, and immediately the scents hit me—hairspray, color chemicals, that warm undertone of freshly washed hair. I love the smell of a hair salon. It feels so welcoming with the promise of walking out the doors feeling refreshed, like a new woman.
The space is modernized, even with the charm of the old building.
I slide my sunglasses on top of my head and glance around the salon. Whoever owns this space put a lot of work into the details. Wild Mane Salon feels more like an oasis. Fidgeting with the chain of my necklace to ground myself, I wait for the receptionist to finish up with a customer.
“Hi, sorry about the wait. Do you have an appointment?” the young receptionist asks, and I can’t help but take in her edgy style, from her haircut to her outfit.
Smiling warmly, I step closer to the counter. “Hi, I’m new in town and looking to get on someone’s books.”
“Of course. We're quite full at the moment, but if you aren’t in a hurry, I can see when the next availability is?”
I rake my fingers through my waves. “I’m in no rush at all.”
