Page 3 of Buck This
The name on the text dropped her heart right through her toes. Caleb.
What are you doing tonight?
She typed out,Whatever I want, Caleb. Same as you, before she deleted it, and ignored the text instead. If she responded, he would run with it, and she would be on the roller coaster again. She couldn’t do it anymore.
Feeling absolutely defeated, she strode for the bar and waited for a bartender to notice her at the end. While she leaned against the bar top, she scanned the room. The people here wereinteresting to watch. Two girls near her were dressed in cut-off short shorts, and cropped bandana tops. They wore boots with sparkles on them, fake eyelashes and glossy lipstick, and for a moment, she got caught up in the desire to trade places with them. They laughed so easily and spoke with such confidence to the cowboys around them.
But her? Torrey? She couldn’t even get the bartender’s attention, and he wasn’t even busy anymore. After making his last drink, he was washing glasses and chatting with another bartender on his other side.
Torrey was invisible.
Story of her life.
She gently bumped her fist onto the bar top and meandered toward the famous people signing autographs. She watched the lines of excited people, holding posters and T-shirts to get signed.
A smile took her lips. This clearing was full of happy people and good mojo. It was nice.
“I like your boots,” someone said.
Torrey rolled her eyes closed and sighed, then without turning around said, “Yeah, yeah. I get it. I don’t fit in.”
“No, I mean I really like them.” The woman was closer now.
Suspiciously, Torrey dared to look over at her. The woman was in her late forties maybe and had jet black curls cascading down her shoulders. She had tattoos on her arms, and an easy smile. She stuck her leg out, and Torrey spied a pair of black Dr. Martens boots on her.
“Oh my gosh, I’m not the only one,” Torrey said with a laugh as relief flooded her.
“Cheers,” the lady said as she held her boot out.
With a grin, Torrey clacked her boot against hers and crossed her arms over her chest. She hadn’t worn a bra tonight and it was getting chilly out here.
“Waiting on friends?” the lady asked.
“Ummm…” Torrey glanced behind her at the exit and thought about it. She honestly didn’t know if Reece would even sit with her in the stands. “I think I’m just doing the solo-thing tonight.”
“I like it.”
Torrey snorted. “I’m undecided if I like it yet or not.”
“You get to do whatever you want.”
“What?”
The lady turned to her and gave her the most genuine smile she’d ever seen. “You get to do whatever you want. You don’t have to pay attention to anyone else’s needs tonight. I saw you over by the bar. You were watching the crowds with this little smile on your face. You’re a people-watcher. If you were with a group of friends, you wouldn’t get to do that. Or come in here and see what’s going on or find the perfect seat in the bleachers.”
Torrey nodded. “Yeah.”
“You want that drink? I’ll buy.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that. The bartenders are busy—”
The woman pointed to the bartender, and he called, “What do you want, boss?”
The woman held up two fingers, and looked at Torrey as she asked, “Beer or margarita?”
“Um, I want to fit in a little better so maybe beer?”
“Margaritas,” the woman called.
