Page 26 of Untamed
An event's gate man is positioned in the arena in front of the designated chute from which a ride is about to start. The gateman, holding onto a nylon rope tied to the designated chute's gate, waits for a bull rider's cue to open the chute gate, thus allowing the ride to begin. The gateman must quickly open the chute gate as wide as possible and immediately get out of the way as the bull and bull rider exit the chute.
“Stay away from that boy, Maesyn.”
Those are my dad’s first words to me when I get inside the house. And then I think to myself,Grayer Easton . . .even his name burns my memory. He’s no boy. He’s all man.
Who is he to tell me who to stay away from? My dad, sure . . . but if he only knew half the people I hang with, he’d have a coronary. “And what about Morgan?” I ask, pointing to where I see her talking to Grayer near the barn. She’s picking her bathing suit out of her butt cheeks again and wearing nothing but the suit and a pair of cowboy boots.
He gets a tight look at his face. His shoulders shift, the movement barely perceptible yet gives me a subtle hint. His warning is not to be ignored. “I didn’t say Morgan. I saidyou.”
Rolling my eyes when he walks away, I watch out the window. Morgan leads Grayer down the driveway. For what reason, I don’t know. But this is Morgan. She’s probably hoping to get her bike back from the boy next door and when she sees an opportunity, she takes it.
I’m not sure what to make of the interaction with Grayer. I get why he’s mad, I do.
I’ve never had someone turn me down and it throws me a little. I start going over everything I’ve said to him, and it really does come back down to my age.
I walk into the kitchen, looking for some limeade and hoping Morgan didn’t drink it all. She likes to give it to the goats she sneaks up to her room. Mom’s in there, peeling potatoes for dinner. “How was the river, honey?”
I shrug and open the fridge. “Nice.” I reach for the limeade and pour myself a glass. “Morgan had fun.”
Mom laughs. “That child could have fun with mud.”
It’s true, and she does. That’s the great thing about childhood. It doesn’t matter what you’re doing. You find fun in all of it.
“Are you heading out tonight?” Mom asks, dropping a peeled potato into the pot.
I lift the glass to my lips, watching Grayer staring at me from the barn like he’s trying to burn a hole in me. “Yeah.” Grayer tucks his hands in the pockets of his jeans and shakes his head, walking away toward the tractor that doesn’t run. I wonder if this is what he had in mind coming here to help out. It’s probably something similar to what I had in mind for a future here. Endless nothing.
“Make sure your chores are done first,” Mom reminds me. “You don’t want your father getting upset.”
Yes, God forbid I upset that man. Pretty sure I upset him the day I was born and a boy wasn’t.
Not only do I get up at the ass crack of dawn every morning to feed animals, collect eggs, clean stables, but I also do the same thing every night before I’m allowed to do anything for myself. Which, if we’re honest, has taught me a lot about being responsible. I just wish I didn’t have to do it every damn day.
“Only a few more days,” Haylee says to me when I’m showing her the bruise on my thigh where Tulsa—my sister’s favorite goat to sneak inside the house—rammed his head into me. He’s a bastard.
“And then we’ll be free,” I whisper, hoping it will be true.
The last place I need to be is at Joel Peterson’s house. Being here makes my stomach sick with anxiety. I hate being here. It reminds me of Jamie. I think of him and tears sting my eyes. I don’t think of him as often as I used to, but when I do, the pain is the same. I picture his face. I remember being angry at him, at the world, at everything I didn’t understand when I was fourteen and had my first broken heart.
Haylee wraps her arm around my shoulder, her stacked purple, pink, and baby blue bangle bracelets clanging together. “We don’t have to be here.”
I raise an eyebrow. “What else are we gonna do?”
She laughs. We keep walking. “What’d Eight Seconds say?”
“Wouldn’t even look my direction.” You can hear the annoyance in my voice.
“That sucks.” Haylee looks at me as we make our way toward the party at Joel’s parents’ property on the Yakima River.
The river looks different at night. Unlike the quiet afternoon we spent here, now it’s crawling with river roaches, and I don’t mean bugs. I mean the usual sluts who hang out here. They’re the ones with their tops off, running around with star stickers on their nipples. It’s trashy.
While I’m the confident country chick with a free spirit and a need to be barefoot, I don’t show my damn nips to just anyone.
“Why is he acting like that?”
“He’s mad I lied to him. Morgan talked to him though.” I raise my eyebrows, still not believing he ignored me. “I don’t get it.”
Haylee laughs, again, and gives my shoulder a nudge. The thought that a guy turned down Maesyn Calhoun is amusing to her. Probably because it’s never happened. Reaching inside her bra, she pulls out a flask of Southern Comfort she keeps hidden. “This should take the edge off.”
