American Honey

“Savannah,” I reply purposely. There’s no way in hell I’m calling her Vanna after that middle-aged letter turner that my grandma watches nightly.

She huffs, but doesn’t say anything. I get the impression that she’s used to getting her way, especially with men. Sadly for her, life doesn’t work like that in these parts.

“How far until my uncle’s house?”

I look out the windshield, pretending I need to gauge the distance. I shrug. “Twenty minutes or so.”

“Well, shouldn’t we get moving?”

I shake my head and mentally kick my own ass for how this day has started. I’d like a redo, please. Hell yeah I’d jump out of this truck and scoop her up in my arms if I knew what she had grown into, but I was remembering my reserved Savannah, not the model sitting next to me.

Cranking my key to start the engine, I’m happy for the loud roar of my engine to drown out my thoughts about her and us… in the barn. It’s never gonna to happen so I just need to stop thinking about it. I need to remember mud pie, cow tipping and catching lightning bugs.

“Hang on tight, sweetheart.” I press down on the gas as I throw my truck into drive. She slams back against the seat, her door barely closed. I’m trying not to laugh but her high-pitched squeal is cracking me up. She’s turned into such a girly girl that someone is going to have to break her out of it and it ain’t gonna be me.

Chapter 2 – Savannah

My hair is blowing in all kinds of directions as the deathtrap I’m stuck in barrels down the road. I don’t see the automatic window lever and I refuse to acknowledge or even look at Tyler. He forgot who I was! How does that happen? I haven’t changed that much and you would think that when I’m smiling at him like a freaking buffoon he would know it’s me. Who forgets their supposed best friend? The moron beside me does, that’s who.

I look over at Tyler to find him smiling. With the way my luck has been going this past month, he’s probably remembering some horribly disgusting moment in my pre-teen life that he’s all too happy to drudge up at the most inopportune time. Like when I’m hitting on my uncle’s ranch-hand. I overheard my mom asking my uncle Bobby about his ranch-hand, leading me to believe she doesn’t want me near him. She took me out of school, refusing to let me finish out my senior year because her parenting skills blow, so I’m going to do what I can to entertain myself. I need some excitement in my life and if that comes in the form of a guy I’ll never see again, so be it.

His left arm hangs out the window while the other rests on top of the steering wheel. At some point in my attempt to ignore him, he’s put a hat on and aviators cover his eyes. Chicks dig aviators. Who knew someone like him could actually wear something fashionable? I look away, not willing to get caught staring. I don’t want him to think I’m interested, because I’m not. I don’t care if he’s good looking with his tanned arms and defined muscles. So what if his shirt stretches across his chest and I can see the outline of his pectoral muscles? He made me look like a crazed fool standing there at the bus while he doted on that other girl.

My head falls against the door as I take in the passing scenery. I don’t want to be here. I’ve made my thoughts on the idea of spending my summer here loud and clear. No one was listening, least of all my mother who has it in her head that I’m some type of juvenile delinquent. One incident and I’m slapped with a label. She’s not exactly a good example of a perfect parent. Once I started high school I was left to figure shit out on my own. I suppose when you’re one of the most sought after divorce attorneys in New York City, you put your job before your family and forget that it’s dinner time or your daughter’s dance recital. Truth be told, if my mom knew half the shit I’ve done, she would’ve sent me out here a long time ago. Getting caught was never in the plans. Who knew she’d finally decide to come home early?

My mom is being unreasonable though. Every kid experiments; it’s a part of life. My punishment shouldn’t be finishing out my senior year and spending my summer in a Podunk town away from my friends, shopping and any vice I need to numb my wandering thoughts on the miserable life I have.

We turn down another dirt road and my uncle’s ranch comes into view. My mom said I loved it here when I was a kid, always running around barefoot and catching frogs down at the pond. The thought makes me shudder as I look at my freshly manicured toes. I do believe my mother laughed when I asked about manicure and pedicure services and said something on how I’m nothing but a spoiled brat who needs a lesson in life. Of course my eyes rolled. She raised me, so if I’m spoiled it’s because of her childrearing abilities, not because of me.

The truck comes to a stop and idles in the driveway. By the way Tyler looks right now, with his cheek pulled in, he’s not getting out. That also means he’s not going to help with me with my luggage so I’m going to have to do it myself. I sigh heavily and lift the handle to get out. The door doesn’t budge. I try again, and nothing. Tyler, “the asshole,” starts to laugh before reaching across my legs and pushing the door open. The tingling I feel when his arm bushes across my leg leaves a burning sensation, as if glowing embers are resting on my skin. I look at him quickly, but he’s focused on the house, not me. Everything in me is telling me that I need to say thank you, but I can’t. The words aren’t forming on my lips. I’ve never felt… tongue-tied?

I shake my head and slide out of the truck, but don’t close the door until my suitcase is securely on the ground. Once I do, he’s driving so fast out of the driveway that rocks are flying toward me. A few hit my legs and I cry out in anger and frustration. There’s no way I liked living here. It’s dirty and nature makes my skin hurt.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my little Savvy.”

As much as I don’t want to be here, I love my uncle. He’s been a father to me for as long as I can remember. My dad passed away when I was two and I only remember him from pictures, but my memories of Uncle Bobby are fresh – well, as clear as they can be after being gone for so long. I smile as he comes stomping down the steps of his old farmhouse. It looks the same, but more modern and very clean. It warms my heart to know that he’s kept it up all these years and didn’t suffer in the recession like others.

“Hi, Uncle Bobby,” I say as I wrap my arms around his neck. He picks me up and swings me around, earning him a girly squeal. This is what I would’ve done had

Tyler been like this with me and not the other girl. But no, he had to make my homecoming awkward and show me why I don’t want to be here.

“How’s my Savvy?” he asks as he sets me down.

I shrug, because honestly I don’t know how I am. My life is a wreck and is only made worse by being here. I don’t want to tell him that, but I’m sure he knows. He’s always known. If it was a bump on my knee or a bee sting, Uncle Bobby had the cure. I don’t know if he was making up for his brother, my father, not being able to be around or what, but he was the dad I needed until we moved away. I know I’ve changed and I suspect everyone else has as well but there are things that I hope are the same. If I’m feeling down, will he have homemade ice cream waiting for me? I’m hoping not because I’m down all the time and ice cream is the last thing I need right now. Uncle Bobby picks up my suitcase and takes my hand in his empty one, leading me to the house. The covered porch brings back memories of many dinners and camp outs I used to have with my mom. We lived here when I was younger because it was easier for everyone after my daddy died.

When I get inside I see that nothing, yet everything has changed. My pictures from when I was little adorn the walls and the house still smells like home cooking, something that I can’t get in New York. The aroma of freshly baked pie and a chicken roasting in the oven wafts through the walls. I inhale deeply, closing my eyes to try to bring up memories of running through the halls of this house. When I open them, I notice that the furniture is new and looks unbelievably comfortable. I can see myself getting lost while I watch this ranch hand work the land… hopefully with his shirt off. I step closer to the mantle and run my finger along the wood. Living in an apartment for so long, you forget how much love goes into building a home. An old picture catches my eye. It’s of me and Tyler with our arms wrapped around each other. Both of us are covered in dirt and sweat and he’s holding a frog in his hand. We were so close and probably would still be if I hadn’t been forced to move. When you’re young and dependent upon others, what’s important to you slips through your fingers. I thought of him until he just became a memory that I kept to myself. None of my private school friends cared about the stories I had to tell.

“Come on, there’s someone in the kitchen who has missed her girl and is dying to see you.”

I shuffle my feet into the kitchen to find my Aunt Sue hunched over the sink. She turns and gasps, covering her mouth as her eyes start to water. I fall into her arms and shed tears that I had been saving for when I’d see her again. When we left, I begged my mom to bring us back to visit, but we never had any time. Her career was important to her and because of that I’ve lost time with my two favorite people.

“I’m so glad you’re home,” she says, cupping my face.

I nod, unable to find my voice. As happy as I am to see her and Uncle Bobby, I don’t belong on a ranch. I belong in the city.

Chapter 3 – Tyler

I slam my hand against my steering wheel to keep in time with the beat of the song blasting through my speakers. The need to hit something is prevalent and I haven’t felt like this in a long time, not since I found my girlfriend Annamae - well she’s now my ex - playing “mow my lawn” with her momma’s landscaper behind her garage. Nothing really prepares you to find your girlfriend like that. My fist knew what to do though. It was only after I beat the kid to a pulp that she proclaimed her love for Rufus. With that I just laughed and walked away. My one year of dating a Southern Belle went down the drain just like that. That wasn’t a good day, but today, while shitty, isn’t the same. The sudden onset of energy needs to be released and the only way I know how to do that is to find a punching bag or go ride the bull at Reds.