“Well, no,” Savannah admits. “He told Myles, and Myles was kind enough to offer up the information to me.”
Wednesday night was such a disaster and I cringe even thinking about it again. Blake and I fought in public, like two dumb kids who couldn’t keep their attitudes in check, and ended up on such vile terms with one another that neither of us uttered a word the whole drive home. When we got back to the ranch, I jumped out of his truck, slammed the door shut, and never looked back.
Ugh.
And I thought about it a lot that night while trying (and failing) to fall asleep. It’s not like I’m keeping some huge secret that will blow the world apart if anyone found out. In fact, I’m not really keeping a secret at all. I’m just trying to do what my dad and Ruben need me to, and that is to keep my head firmly down, be sensible, maintain a low profile, and don’t do anything that will draw attention to myself. Because any attention drawn to me then inadvertently draws attention to Dad.
The worry isn’t someone finding out the real reason I’m here, it’s the wrongpersonfinding out. It only takes one person with a malicious agenda or a desperation for some side cash to sell a flimsy story to the press about Everett Harding’s daughter shacking up in Fairview for the summer alone. The tabloids would spin the story however they wanted – that I ran away, that there’s a rift in the family; whatever they think will get more hits.
Which means that Blake. . . Blake is definitely someone I have to keep at arm’s length. No matter how hard he pushed, he wasn’t ever getting the truth out of me on Wednesday night.
“Sooooo,” Tori says. “Are you and Blake going to become athing?”
I scoff, throwing my head back at how hilarious such an assumption is. Blake and me? A thing? The onlythingBlake Avery is to me is a parasite that crawls under my skin.
“No way,” I say, my words firm so that there’s no chance of Savannah and Tori mistaking me for simply being coy. “He told everyone at the tailgate who my dad is when it was obvious I didn’t want anyone to know, and Wednesday night was. . . Well, it was truly bad.”
“Really? What happened?” Savannah asks, surprise evident in her voice. Perhaps “bad” wasn’t how she expected me to describe the evening, but it’s one of the more pleasant descriptions I could have used. “All he told Myles was that you guys went to Honky Tonk Central and got food, and that he had a good night.”
Now I’m the one who’s surprised. “He didn’t mention the fact that we blew up into an argument? And that we didn’t talk the entire way home? And that I may have beenslightlydramatic?” In hindsight, Blake was right – I was acting up, being a bit of a brat. Panic does that.
“Um,no,” Savannah says with a stunned look. “Why were you guys arguing?”
“Ooo, angsty,” Tori comments. “I’m pretty sure it’s statistically proven that when two people keep clashing, it’s because their fate is to end up together. So, Mila, sounds to me like Blake is your future husband. Count me in on bridesmaid duty.”
Savannah ignores Tori’s injections of deranged humor – which get nothing more than an eye roll in response from me – and asks again: “Why were you guys arguing?” She stares straight at me, but I can’t hold her gaze long enough because I keep checking that Fredo isn’t about to walk me into a row of trees.
“He kept questioning me about stuff I didn’t want to talk about and being super rude,” I admit quietly, deciding to trust these two at least. I hope Savannah and Tori don’t take this as an opportunity to interrogate me too. “And I don’t know what his deal is. It’s like he gets a kick out of watching me squirm.”
“Hmm.” Savannah goes quiet for a while as we continue through the field, listening to the soft sound of hooves cutting through the grass and the occasional whinny from the horses, like they’re chatting to each other too.Eventually, when she sits up straight again, her expression seems brighter. “I could be totally wrong here, but I wonder if he’s just trying to shift the attention to someone else. It worked at the tailgate – everyone was talking aboutyou, Mila. Don’t kids who were bullied in grade school usually turn out to be bullies in high school or whatever?” She holds up a hand to stop me from interrupting, even though I had no intention to. “And no, I’m not saying Blake is bullying you. But the psychology is kind of similar. What do you think, Tori?”
“Since when were you this clever?” Tori asks, staring at Savannah in amazement as though she’s never heard her best friend offer such a reasonable explanation. “But you could be on to something here.”
Am I missing a piece of the jigsaw here? This is the worst part about being the new face in town. You don’t understand people’s backstories and the years of social foundations being formed, re-formed and carefully balanced.
“What are you guys even talking about?”
“Well,” Tori says, taking over, “maybe you know this already. . . but Blake’s mom is the mayor. The Mayor of Nashville. Which is, like, a super big deal.”
“Oh, yeah, my grandpa told me. But that does remind me. . .” I say, narrowing my eyes at Savannah. “When were you going to mention that yourauntis themayor?”
“I guessed Sheri might tell you.” Savannah blushes sheepishly and adds, “It’s not really something you slip into casual chat.”
“ANYWAY,” Tori continues. She moves her hands a lot as she talks, waving the reins around in the air. All of her attention is focused on me, because I’m the one who’s out of the loop. “Fairview is a small town, and everyone knows the Averys. Kind of like how everyone knows the Hardings.” She smiles. “So, Blake tends to get a lot of grief over the wholemy-mom-is-the-freaking-mayorthing. Not in a mean way or anything, but his friends get on his back about it a lot. They’re always messing with him.”
“It’s nothing major,” Savannah adds. “Just remarks here and there, but I can tell it’s getting old to him. Plus, random people he doesn’t know sometimes give him a hard time over his mom’s politics and stuff.” I flinch at the memory of that anti-gun-reform guy in Nashville. “But nowyou’rehere. And no offense to my aunt or anything, but an A-list movie star kind of blows the whole city mayor thing out of the water. Which takes the attention off Blake for once.” She taps her chin thoughtfully, gazing up at the blue summer sky. “And I wonder if he’s relieved to be the one who can give someone hassle, rather than always being on the receiving end.”
“That’s one option, Oprah,” Tori says. “The other is that he simply hates you and we’re just overthinking this.” She flashes me a grin.
I mull over Savannah’s words in my head, willing them to make sense so that I at least have some explanation as to why Blake treated me the way he did. I get it – having a parent who’s a public figure isn’t the easiest thing in the world. There’s a lot of pressure that no one else can really understand, and there’s also alotof rules. That’s why I’m here in the first place, because living a normal teenage existence where my mistakes are simply a learning curve isnotallowed in the world of keeping up appearances.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned growing up, it’s that Dad’s job affects us all. He isn’t the only one who has to stay in line – at least in the eyes of the public – his family does too. Mistakes aren’t allowed. And I bet it works the same way in Blake’s world.
I pull abruptly on Fredo’s reins and am surprised when he actually comes to a stop.
“What?” Savannah says, pulling her horse around.
“Guys. Wait. Hold up,” Tori calls over her shoulder as her horse continues to stroll peaceably off on its own. “Guys! How do I get him to stop?”
