Page 96 of Wasted Oil

Everyone has gone off and done their own thing and Alex and I have been walking along each side of the parking lot looking at every stand, tent, and trailer. We stopped at The Broken Circle Soap Bar Co. so Alex could stock up on her mint lip scrub and balm and I decided to grab a bundle sample of their soaps. I glanced at the area next to them recognizing a familiar pearl cattle travel trailer. We quickly check out and I drag Alex next door and step into the trailer.

“Welcome to the Style Shack.” We are greeted in unison by both gals. I guess my disguise is good. I removed my aviators and stepped closer to Sarah and Keera.

“Hey girls, so glad to see you here.” I greet them. Both jaws open with excitement on the brink but I put my finger to my mouth and quietly share I’m undercover so they compose themselves. I introduce my best friend to them but not before she’s already picked out six graphic tee’s though.

“Goose, what do you say?” I motion to the permanent jewelry section of the trailer and she gives me a look like that was a stupid question. I give the girls a hug and Alex follows suit. We both got the same chain linked gold necklace.

Once we’ve made a full circle we make our way back towards the food area and I go and grab some Bubba’s bbq and Alex goes off somewhere else and we decide to just meet up at the picnic table that my brother and Sailor are perched at.

I’m mid bite into my rib sandwich when Alex finally reaches us.

"Holy shit guys, you’ll never guess who’s at the Firefly Kitchen food truck serving pie.” We all share the same questioning look. Her eyes shift back and forth between us then throws her hands up in disbelief.

“Seriously guys. I swear you all were born under a rock.”

Sailor quickly comments back, “Umm rude.”

Alex dismisses her sister.

"Lexi the owner, her husband. Bryan Brennan, Quarterback of the Tampa Tarpons?”

"No shit?” My brother responds.

They get into more conversation around football going into who they think will make it to the Super Bowl this year and or who would perform at halftime. I’m not a fan of a team but I guess I'll jump on the bandwagon of being a Titans fan.

The name of the Quarterback in question rings a bell but before I insert myself into the conversation, a blur of black catches my eye. I snap my head back to where the blur went, my heart racing in my chest, but when I find the black stetson hat my excitement fades. It’s not my cowboy under it.

Maybe if I just reach out and see how he’s doing I can get some of whatever this feeling is to subside.

I feel him all around me. I close my eyes and see him, only when I open my eyes and he’s not there. I need to snap out of this. I’ve worked so hard in my career to get where I am right now. I’m damn proud of my work.

To say I’m happy with how my life is right now would partially be a lie because I don’t have that special someone to share it with. We ruined that for us.

I’ll get over it—eventually. At the end of the day, I will be okay. I have to be.

We start making our way back to the stadium to get ready but stop when we reach the center of the parking lot where there are a bundle of barrels on fire. We step around to the table off to the side with a letter sign displaying a message.

Past events, past worries, past mistakes.

They belong in the past, not in the present.

Don’t look back, you’re not going that way.

On the table in front are papers of every shape and size and a jar of pens for those who wish to write a confession or something they wish to burn and be done with. Set free.

I turn to look at my best friend who’s nudging her sister to help truly bring her idea to full reality. She then turns to me bumping my hip with hers then proceeds to lean down to participate.

I grab my brother's hand leaning my head to his shoulder and whisper.

“How much more free can we be?” I ask knowing we are both thinking the same thing that we always wanted to set a flame. Since he’s gone we decided to settle for something in the now. We mimic the other two's motions to make our own.

All four of us stand by the Burning Barrels. I laugh not realizing I did out loud getting looks of what’s so funny.

Looking into the flame I say where all can hear.

“Does this make us the new OG four?”

On my right where my best friend is I hear her gasp knowing damn well she’s loving the idea.

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