Page 136 of Boots, Bucket Lists & Bad Ideas
It’s mine now.
I’m the last to shower. The showerhead sputters for a second before releasing a steady stream of water. I step under it, closing my eyes for a second, letting the heat work its magic.
So much about today was magical—an ordinary, unimportant, yet special day spent with family.
But magical.
I’m in and out of the shower quickly, even with the struggle of shaving my legs in the small space. I change into a fresh pair of jeans and a T-shirt, and I catch my reflection in the full-size mirror hung on the bedroom door. It’s the same old two pieces of clothes I always wear.
No personality.
No creativity.
No flare.
Josie poses in her latest dress in the mirror, and her reflection catches mine. “Have you changed your mind?”
“No. I’m ready to dance and ride.”
Josie blinks. “Who are you? And what have you done with my sister?”
“Dramatic.” My feet sink into the plush carpet as I walk to the central area of the RV.
Josie follows, twisting open a tube of lipstick and gliding the color over her lower lip. “You’re different today.”
“Am I?” I snatch her lipstick and slide it over my lips before handing it back.
“That shade looks good on you.” Daisy garnishes glasses on the polished marble countertop.
“Thank you.’
“Rub your lips together.” Celi demonstrates, holding a vodka above the shaker across from her sister.
I rub my lips together.
“Perfection.” Celi tips the bottle into the shaker.
Josie is still staring at me, all suspicious, as she tucks the lipstick between her cleavage. “Did you sleep with Hart?”
“Josie!” Hannah stops rummaging through her bag and locks eyes with our sister, who’s always wreaking havoc.
Even Natalie glances over her book. Of course, she’s settled into a whole different world. The two of us have always been the outcasts that way.
“Rude.” Hannah points a black ankle boot at Josie.
Josie clicks her tongue, her eyes never leaving me. “Did you finally let that cowboy take you on the side of the road, against a tall mesquite tree? Just slamming that bark uncontrollably until your back is stamped with scars to remember the experience?”
It’s my turn to stare.
Too graphic.
Too much detail.
A fantasy for later.
“No,” I say.
She frowns. “But you two are acting so weird. Like you have a secret. Or something awkward happened and now you’re avoiding each other.”
