Page 59 of Flowers To Give

Jeremy wonders what that means, answering, “Yeah.”

Clark stops in his tracks and scrunches his mouth, “I don’t know if I want to see you right now.”

“Ditto,” Jeremy replies.

Sharing a silence for a moment, Clark walks over to Jeremy and climbs up on the fence to sit beside him. He offers the flask to Jeremy. Taking it, he drinks a generous swig. Clark gestures to his cigarette, “Can I bum one?”

Unable to stifle a chuckle, Jeremy shakes his head as he pulls out a stogie and hands it to Clark along with the flask. He watches as Clark puts the cig between his lips and pulls out Jeremy’s zippo. He lights it and keeps the lighter out, feeling it with his fingers. Encouraged by the alcohol, Jeremy asks him outright, “Why did you take that from me? You always carry it around.”

Clark sways a bit on the fence as he shrugs, looking up toward the sky as he answers, “It reminds me of you.”

Heart skipping a beat, Jeremy’s eyes flick up to Clark’s face and he says, “You’re drunk.”

“Maybe a little,” Clark smirks goofily.

Jeremy thinks that makes sense, today holding many heavy revelations. He looks back up to the sky with Clark and decides to bring it up, “So that was something today, huh?”

“Yeah,” Clark huffs, “Laurelai kicked me out of the house tonight. Said she’s leaving with her kids tomorrow.”

Biting his lip, Jeremy lowers his eyes again and replies, “Sorry that went down like that.”

Clark shrugs, saying his words slowly, “It was inevitable, really.”

“Still,” Jeremy puffs from his cigarette, “I’m sorry.”

Clark’s eyes lower to earth as he chews on that, the apology overarching and only a bandaid. He hangs his head a little lower, stretching out his arm on his propped up knee and peeking fromover his shoulder as he asks, “Are you really going to leave me for Rezai?”

Jeremy’s breath feels small as he quietly asks as a response, “I thought you were over me?”

“I lied,” Clark replies in a hushed voice.

Having to look away, Jeremy’s brow scrunches and the air between them feels thick. Jeremy licks his lips before he answers, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with that.”

Clark leans into him, their shoulders pressed against each other. His voice remains low as he says, “Is it true that you’re entering the rodeo?”

Brow crinkling in confusion, Jeremy nods.

“I hear you do it every year,” Clark continues.

“Every one.”

“Hm,” Clark mumbles, “And I guess there’s some prize money in it for you, huh?”

Jeremy tilts his head, smoking more from his dying cigarette, “Could be, yeah.”

“What if I paid you twice that much to skip the rodeo?” Clark proposes out of nowhere, sipping his flask.

“Ha,” Jeremy laughs shortly, shaking his head, “I gotta compete. It’s tradition that somebody represents Willmaker Ranch.”

“I could get us someone else. An understudy.”

“An ‘understudy?’” Jeremy emphasizes, actually insulted, “You tryin’ to edge me out right now? Seriously?”

“It’s not like that,” Clark readjusts himself on the fence, looking into Jeremy’s eyes as he says, “It’s just dangerous.”

“Pfft, come on. You saw me handle that bronco earlier, I’ll do the same again,” Jeremy points out.

Clark nods slowly, “That was pretty cool what you did today.”