Page 33 of The Cabin

“They’re so freaky.”

I nod. “Very.”

We sit like that for a while longer until the guy tells us he has to feed them.

Grayson stands and offers me a hand. I take it and brush the straw off my butt. “You ready?”

He helps me up the hay barrel and back over the fence and we continue walking through the grounds. There are more animals that I gush over while Grayson waits patiently or loves on them with me. We pass a million fried food stalls. Some selling things I’d never even heard of. Fried snake? No thank you…

“I’ll give you a hundred dollars if you eat that fried snake,” I joke, nudging Grayson in the direction of the order window. He doesn’t even seem phased and steps right up to get in line.

Within ten minutes, I have one hundred less dollars than when I came.

“I cannot believe you did that.”

He chucks his trash into a nearby can. “It tasted like the way hairspray smells.”

My expression turns from disbelief to disgust. “Ew, what? Why?”

“I have no idea, but it’s all I can taste now.”

“We could try and find those key lime pies that lady mentioned.”

He throws an arm around my shoulder. “I knew it, crabby cakes, you love key lime pie.”

“Is there a reason you’re this obnoxious, or…?”

“Tell me I’m right.”

“I will do no such thing.”

He lays his head on mine, rolling it so he’s facing me. “C’mon, Sol,baby, tell me.” If he calls me baby one more time I am not responsible for what happens after. I don’t know if I’ll combust or melt or jump his bones or what. But it won’t be pretty.

“I like key lime pie,” I grit, ducking down out of his grasp in an attempt to get him off of me. He’s undeterred and it doesn’t work.

“Sorry, lollipop, can’t hear you. Too many people.” He’s not going to freaking leave me alone.

“Okay! Yes, I like key lime pie.”

“I knew it.” It’s raspy and right at my ear. I barely start to shiver before he pulls away. “Come on, I’ll buy you some since you’re poor now.” I hate him.

The pie ends up being stupid good and I give up any pretense of feigning being coerced when I finish the whole thing in three minutes. Grayson isn’t much better, and it isn’t long until we’ve walked through everything except the carnival style games. I’ve been avoiding it and he knows it.

Approaching our dreaded destination, a knot forms in the pit of my stomach. I am trying to be more carefree. Will it matter in a year if I fall off and a few people laugh? No. But, I’ve only been practicing this for a small amount of time and I’ve yet to actually succeed in feeling it.

The guy currently riding the bull is holding on for dear life. It jerks him around so hard his body snaps in three different directions before he flies off and lands face down on the ground. Wow. What a fun, cool thing to do. I don’t know why everyone doesn’t do this…

Grayson’s hand touches my shoulder. “Hey, we don’t have to do this…I was just messing around earlier.” I look up at him, and take in his concern. It’s nice. He’s being Nice Grayson. For my benefit. But, instead of giving me relief, it just lights a fire under my ass. This is not a difficult thing to do. A difficult thing to do is getting a divorce or moving on from being cheated on or, I don’t know, doing your taxes. It is not doing something fun (albeit nerve wracking) for less than eight seconds. I mean, the pros only have to do eight seconds. And I’m certainly not a pro. How long can it really go on for?

“Hell yeah we do. You’ve got a tattoo to earn.” His smile makes me feel like a million bucks.

“Alright, do you want me to go first?”

I shake my head, “Nope. Ladies first.” I pat him on his forearm condescendingly and then walk right up to the ticket guy before I can chicken out. Annoyingly, Grayson reaches over and pays for the both of us, but I don’t have time to pitch a fit. I am in the zone. I am beauty. I am grace. I am… a badass bull rider? Weird affirmation, but I’ll go with it.

My hands are already sweating which feels unfair. There’s also sweat at my lower back which I’m sure you can see through my shirt. Oh, the fuck, well.

The guy dressed in full rodeo gear (again, Pennsylvania) has me place my foot in one of the stirrups and helps me jump up onto the bull. It kind of hurts when I smack my ass down on its back. Jeez. Loosen up, guy. Get a massage or something. Your shoulders are so tense. *Laughs at own self’s corny joke*

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