“That’s it. I’m walking. I’ll see you all when you finally get there,” Garth shouted, driving his fists into Old Bessie one last time before hopping out of the bed and marching down the road. All three of us inside the cab laughed.
“Hey, Garth?” I hollered, hanging my head out Jesse’s open window. “Am I a bitch?”
“Ha!” he shouted as he kept on trucking down the road, blazing his own path.
“Was that a Ha of outrageous disagreement or noncommittal, partial agreement?”
Jesse had pulled Old Bessie back onto the road and had caught up to Garth.
Garth scowled at us, quickening his pace. “That was a Ha! of utter, total, and unwavering agreement.”
My glare had barely formed when Jesse punched the gas so hard Old Bessie actually fish-tailed on the gravel road.
“What was that for, Speedy Gonzalez?” I asked.
Jesse grinned widely as he checked the rearview mirror. “For every action, there is an opposite and equal reaction.”
“Yeah, Jesse, I know you’re the valedictorian of Willow Springs High, but what does that physics gem have to do with peeling out on some backwoods road?”
“That was my reaction to Garth’s action.” His eyes flickered to the rearview again. Something really interesting seemed to be keeping his attention.
“So Garth’s action was implying I was a bitch . . .” I twisted to find a serious cloud of dust obscuring the whole road. It was so thick, I couldn’t make out Garth anywhere in it.
“And my reaction was giving him a dirt and gravel shower.”
“Would you quit being so perfect already? It’s really getting old.” Giving Jesse my own devilish grin, we both started laughing. I was going to have to keep that action/reaction reminder in mind when dealing with Garth. Or any other a-hole, for that matter.
“You’re not just going to leave him, are you?” Josie piped up.
“We really just are,” Jesse replied.
“What? You can’t do that. It’s still another couple miles to the swimming hole.”
I gave Josie a look. Since when did she care about Garth’s well-being? In fact, I’d been sure up until then that her name would have been the first on the petition to banish Garth Black from the face of the earth.
“Exactly. So by the time he makes it, maybe he’ll remember some of his manners.” Jesse urged Old Bessie along. Since we’d dropped the baggage, we were cruising.
“Manners? Garth Black?” Josie said the words, but they were the exact ones on my mind.
Jesse’s face scrunched up as he considered that. “Yeah, you’re right. But if nothing else, at least it will piss him the hell off and give us a little bit of Garth-Black-free time.”
Josie sighed. “You are an animal, Jesse Walker.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I waved my hands in front of me. “Did you just say Jesse’s an animal? And if my ears doth not deceive me, then what—in a world where the Jesse Walkers are animals—are the Garth Blacks?”
“Your words, expressions, and hand gestures doth annoy me, so I shalt not give you a response.”
“You and I might be the two most opposite chicks alive, but at least we’ve got Shakespeare in common.”
Finally, a smile cracked Josie’s face. “There is that.”
A couple minutes later, Jesse pulled off to the side of the overgrown road into a parking space that was doubly as overgrown. I couldn’t see the swimming hole, even though it was less than fifty yards in front of us because a ring of giant willow trees lined the entire shore. There was one tight spot a person could squeeze through, and an ancient dock that was just barely floating extended into the water there. The mass of giant trees seemed like it was protecting whatever was inside from the outside world. When Jesse had taken me there the first time last summer, I’d straight out refused when he told me that we’d have to walk through because it looked a little creepy from an outsiders’ perspective. Then he stripped down for his “swim,” and my feet magically followed him.
Once I’d made it past the willow tree perimeter and was looking at it from the inside out, back-floating in the middle of the water, well . . . it was magical. It had become a favorite of Jesse’s and mine. That was the first time we’d been able to swim since I left for school, but we’d made plenty of visits just to curl up in a blanket on the dock.
“Let’s hurry up and enjoy some Garth-free time.” Jesse shoved his door open and grabbed my hand to help me out.
“I enjoy all of my Garth-free time.”
Josie moved to the tailgate to open it for Jolene. “How you doing back here, Gimpy?”
“Stuck, I think. Garth had to help me in. Someone else is going to have to help me out since he’s probably still coughing up dust.” Jolene’s eyes landed on my certain someone.
“Well, don’t look at me. I’m not going to sprain my ankle helping your gimp ankle out.” Josie crossed her arms and took a couple steps back. Some best friend-slash-cousin.
“Jesse?” Jolene said slowly, expectantly. “Mind being your usual gentlemanly self and sweeping a girl off her feet?”
I didn’t even try to keep from rolling my eyes. Whenever that chick opened her mouth, an eye roll came standard.
“Sure. No problem.” Jesse shot me a nervous glance before moving toward the tailgate. I wasn’t irritated with Jesse. His willingness to help anyone at any time was one of the things I loved most about him. I was irritated with those who took advantage of his selfless qualities.
Jolene really ate up the whole thing, winding her arm around his neck, snuggling in nice and tight against his chest, making those damn Bambi eyes at him like he was the be-all-end-all in all maledom . . . which Jesse was. But that was for me to know and no one else to find out.
Jesse did his good deed of the day, kept his hands and arms to all of Jolene’s super safe areas—yes, I was watching—and was just about to lower her to the ground when she clung a little tighter. Subtlety was a nuance lost on that one.
“That’s a long trek down some treacherous terrain. Mind carrying me the rest of the way?” she asked, practically batting her lashes. “I’d hate to sprain the other ankle or see those muscles of yours go to waste.”
If I wasn’t seeing a special shade of pissed, I might have gagged a little.
“Um . . . are you sure you can’t make it? It’s really not that bad . . .” Jesse didn’t need to look at me to feel me seething. I’m sure he could feel it rolling off me in radioactive waves.
“Oh. I’m sure.”
Oh, I knew she was.
“Okay, well . . .” Jesse turned slowly, partially wincing like he was bracing himself. “Will you be okay if I walk Jolene down real quick and come back for you and Josie?” I knew he was really asking Are you going to be pissed beyond the point of appeasing if I do this?
The answer to that was yes. And no. Jolene might have made the list after that morning’s shenanigans, but she’d just landed the number one spot on my shit list. Jesse . . . he’d never been anywhere close to it. I doubted he could do anything to wind up on that list. Just because a scheming little trollop was using his goodness against him didn’t mean I was going to hold him responsible.
“Yeah. We’ll be great.” I shot him a thumbs-up.
Jesse’s whole body relaxed. “Be right back.” He managed to press a quick kiss into my lips as he walked by. Jolene’s Barbie-doll hair came dangerously close to my hands. So close that I had to fight the urge to yank a chunk of it.
I only watched Jesse and Jolene walk away for a second because I realized it was a real-life vision for a secret fear: Jesse walking away with a girl as seemingly perfect as him and leaving me behind to wonder if my time with him had been nothing but a dream. It was baseless and unfair and gave away just how insecure I could still be, but it was there.
“Put your kitty claws away, Feisty.” Josie nudged me as I yanked my beach bag from the truck.
“You still can look me in the eye and tell me your sweet and innocent cousin is not head over heels in panting lust-love with my boyfriend? I mean, come on, Dolly Parton wrote a goddamned song about some girl named Jolene sauntering in and taking some lesser woman’s man. I don’t want to be the girl whose man leaves her for some flaming locks of auburn-haired girl.” How a forty-year-old country song could seem so prophetic I don’t know, but damn if it didn’t seem to be telling my life story at that juncture. That I knew who Dolly Parton was and what songs she sang gave away just how much time I’d spent at Willow Springs and just how much they loved their iconic country singers.