Page 69 of Something Like Sunflowers

Not in Pine Forest.

Lemon clears her throat, breaking me out of my head.

“All I’m saying is it’s only going to get worse. He’s going to get more attractive, more naked, and more thirst trappy, so bang it out and go from there. It’s not like you can’t take things slow emotionally and still avoid driving yourself crazy with need in the process.”

“She’s got a point,” Jeremy agrees. “Don’t hold yourself back just because you’re worried about being a ho. Everyone knows the Ex to Ho Ratio states the longer you’ve been apart from someone, the sluttier you’re allowed to be. You have chemistry, history, probably even algebra. We don’t know. That’s the point. Only you know. So, ho it up, girl. Get your slut on if you want to.”

“Maybe you have a point. But it doesn’t help my other problem. I don’t have a way to raise money for Classy Country’s charity without a pageant. And even though they don’t care about the competition anymore, I still feel like there should be a pageant. Like old times.”

“Would it be hard to start your own?” Shana asks, ever the voice of reason.

I shake my head. There’s so much to do to get a pageant program up and running. Not only that, but there aren’t any participants.

“We’d need actual kids for that.” In a small town like this, where everyone works blue collar jobs, half the girls who’d want to join wouldn’t even have after school transportation. “Clara had a carpool system that made it manageable for parents.”

Lemon thinks, tapping her long, painted fingernail to her chin. “I got it!” she exclaims, tossing her hair back over one shoulder, eyes gleaming. “What if we hold practices at the farm? We could use Hunter’s recreational bus. It already takes a load of kids to his property after school for his Farm to Friendship program, and there’s a pavilion he uses for town events that’s usually vacant unless it’s bingo night. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind us throwing some girls in there for a few weeks.”

“Farm to Friendship?” I ask, my forehead creasing as I look around the table at Jeremy and Shana. But they don’t seem surprised. “Is that the name of his little rodeo group?”

“Little group?” Jeremy sputters. “Dev, his program is not little by any means. It’s the top non-profit youth farming program in the region.”

“What?” I ask, rearing my head back and leaning against the booth. “He has busses and everything?” I look at Shana for confirmation from my oldest and most loyal friend. She offers me a small smile.

“Remember when you asked me about the renovations to the town and the bar?”

I nod.

“Well, that was Hunter.” She blinks. “Hunter Isaac practically is the town. He’s everyone’s hype man and a gracious benefactor of the small business in town. He grew up, Dev.”

I swallow the hard knot in my throat, blinking at my friends, speechless. How is it possible that one person can change so much?

But my heart swells with pride, too, because I’m not sure how much of that is change and how much of it was always there inside the boy I’ve always loved. The kind one who read me stories before I could make out the words, the brave one who defended me at parties, the genuine one who held my hand and spoke of a day where our kids would never want for more.

He never left.

I did.

But I don’t run from my problems anymore. This new Devyn doesn’t do that. She faces them.

“Let’s do it,” I tell the others. “Let’s start us a rodeo pageant!”

Chapter 27

Hunter

Where does the scary witch go?” Devyn shouts down to Ellie from the gallery overlooking the living room. Strands of blonde hair fall across the witch doll as she hangs her head over the railing, holding it in front of her face like a mask.

“Boo!”

A joyous scream followed by a loud set of giggles fill the house, and I haven’t been able to put my finger on what it is about that sound that makes everything in the whole world feel right. But it damn sure does.

It feels better than right.

Not just Devyn being here in my space but being part of my family. And it’s the way she is with Ellie.

They’re inseparable.

In a few short weeks, she’s taught her to make pancakes from scratch, albeit they weren’t the best tastin’ things I’ve ever had grace my palate, but the two flour covered chefs who made ‘em were the cutest pair I ever saw.

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