Page 3 of Organic for the Outcast (Rejected 7)

Chapter Two

Farlee

“Daddy, I’m home,” I call out as I make my way into our old farmhouse. The same one I’ve lived in all my life. It’s not a lot, but it is home.

“Hey baby girl, how was school?” he asks, rolling his wheelchair in to greet me. I smile as tears come to my eyes. They always do when I think about the accident that took his ability to walk. He never complains and always makes sure to point out he was lucky all he lost was his legs, but I still feel bad.

About three years ago, my mother passed away in a car wreck. We were a blissfully happy, normal family. We ran this farm together. Mom made her special pecan and apple pies for every occasion, and dad loved and doted on us something fierce. It was all taken away when a semi couldn’t brake hard enough and slammed into my mother's car.

My dad was so lost all he did was work and work and work. He nearly worked himself to death. He couldn’t sleep in their bed because he got nightmares of finding my mother on the side of the road since he was the first one on the scene. He always ends up on the lounger in the living room. A little over a year after she passed, he was out working on some farm equipment. He had the jack set, holding it up while he was underneath it. He tried to slide out, and the jack wasn’t stable enough.

The whole thing came down on top of his legs. I was at school, and he was trapped under there for hours until I came home to find him. The ambulance rushed over, but they couldn’t save all of him; to this day, I still blame myself. If I had just gotten my GED when Ma passed away, I would have been here and could have helped.

My father shot that down the minute I offered the idea of my GED and then just working full time on the farm. He refused, told me it was my senior year, and come hell or high water, I was getting that diploma. He still refuses to see reason, so I’ve given up. I still wonder sometimes if he feels the same way about this place as I do. I used to love this house, this farm, my family… but since mom left, it just doesn’t feel as warm. It doesn’t feel like home.

“School was good. Have you eaten yet? I can make you something before I head out and do some chores,” I tell him, and the look in his eyes has me stopping.

There’s guilt there. I don’t like it.

“How about we sit down and talk for a bit?” he says, rolling up to the kitchen table.

“Daddy, you're scaring me. What’s going on?” I ask as he places his hands on my folded ones and bows his head.

“Farlee, I'm thinking about selling the farm,” he tells me, and I jump from my seat, completely shocked.

“What? Why? Am I not working enough? Daddy, just tell me, and I will get my GED and help out more,” I beg him.

This isn’t for me. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind leaving this town and never looking back. We could find a small cabin, and I could run an animal rescue or something. Well, that’s my pipe dream anyway. No, I'm not upset for myself. I'm upset for my dad. This farm has been his whole life. His parents weren't great growing up, but they lived next door. My mom was the previous owner's daughter, and they grew up meeting at their spot. My grandpa didn't approve of my dad, but my mom loved the land and loved my dad even more. He married her quicker than ice melting in the desert heat after they turned eighteen and built this place to be something amazing. We ran a successful business here, producing oats and vegetables to sell to local shops. Eggs, milk, my mom's pies. The whole shebang. We fostered horses, and everything was perfect. He made this, his dream, come true, and I can't let him give it up.

“Baby, it's time. With your mom gone…” I cut him off.

“This place has been your life, your dream, daddy. You can't just sell it,” I plead with him. I can't lose him, too, and I feel like if he gives this up, his happiness, I might as well put him down in the dirt beside momma.

“Baby, listen, I can't work like I used to. I can't keep this place up like I used to. The barn needs fixing, the tractors need repairs, and there's so much work to do that I can't handle anymore,” he tells me softly. I shake my head, refusing to accept this. I start walking out of the kitchen. I need to get away, to think. I need to find a way to fix this. I turn back to my dad before I leave the house.

“Please, don’t do anything yet. Let me try to fix this,” I tell him, tears gathering in my eyes before turning and heading out the door. I walk straight to the barn and climb up into the hayloft.

Sitting on a bale of hay, I let my head fall into my hands, and the tears rush down my cheeks. I'm torn, and I feel so lost. Times like these, I wish my mama was still here. She would know exactly what to do. She would have saved this whole place. Hell, there wouldn't even mention selling if she was here. If I can just talk my dad into letting me quit school, we could get this worked out, easy peasy. I'm eighteen now, so it's not like he could stop me if I really wanted to, but the last thing I want to do is disappoint my dad. He’s been let down enough in life, especially recently.

It wouldn't hurt my feelings to leave that hellhole behind anyway. I don't have any friends there. People call me Farlee Farmer like it's an insult, but in reality, that's what my family and I are. They call me dirty and muddy, and tell me all I do is play in the dirt. I’ve kept my head down at that school since pre-k. I had one friend, Sara, throughout elementary school, but she changed once we started middle school. Over the summer before sixth grade, she was invited to a sleepover with all the popular kids. She ditched me that summer and became one of my worst tormentors when school started back up. I don’t know what I did for her to drop me and our friendship so easily, but I folded into myself even more after that. I make sure to keep to myself, blend into the background, never speak up, and don't join any clubs. I don't want to be more of a target than I already am.

I dated one boy, Louis Roth, back in tenth grade because he asked me out, and I hated to hurt his feelings. He was a dork, an outcast, like me, and I thought maybe it would just be nice having someone there. I think he realized I was looking at him as more than a friend. When he tried pressuring me into kissing and… other things, I dumped him and stayed as far away as possible. I still pass him in the halls sometimes, and he gives me a hateful glare, but at least it didn't go any further.

After today, I really don't want to go back to school. I’ve heard people talk about the Trailer Trash rebels or whatever stupid nickname they gave them, but I’ve never actually talked to any of them except Parker, and that was only to make sure he and Julianna didn't get in trouble for... uh, hooking up. Julianna always seemed so nice, even if I've never talked to her, so I thought I would help.

But today, I met another one of them, and he’s probably the hottest guy I've ever seen. I only knew he was one of them because of the leather jacket he wore. Girls are always talking about wishing they could “test drive” one of the guys or how hot they look in those jackets, but they won't. They won't ruin their chance of being popular, or if they already are popular, they just stick to the jocks, so they don't ruin their reputation. It all sounds so stupid and immature if you ask me.

I swear, though, I can't get his image out of my head. Helping me pick up my books, and how his eyes widened as he realized he’d knocked me down. Something about him had me feeling… something.

Then he yelled at me, and I ran away like a coward. I don't know what Sara was doing hanging around him. I didn't think she would give up her popularity for a guy, but they seemed to be dating. Maybe since Bailey, the head cheerleader, started going out with the leader, things have changed. Maybe it’s not as big of a deal to hook up with one of the troubled outcasts anymore. You would think I wouldn't be in on all the gossip or know much about all this stuff, but people talk. They talk even louder and more freely when they think of you as invisible. And that's what I am. I stand up, ready to go for a ride on my favorite horse, Sprinkle. She always calms me down just by riding through the pasture and out toward the back of the property and the pond. I head straight for her with resolve, having come up with a plan.

That's what I need to remember when I go back in tomorrow. I just need to put my head down, figure out how to save my dad's legacy, and stick to being just that…. Invisible.

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