American Honey

I look at my watch and shake my head, wondering what it would be like to sleep in until I could have a normal breakfast. “It is for people like you who don’t get up before the sun.”

“Can’t you go home and eat?” Her tone is one that I’d expect from someone living in New York City, hell from any city for that matter, and just like that I’m pissed. I’ve been around long enough to know when I’m being talked down to. It happens all the time when the chicks come waltzing into Reds looking for action, and thinking we’re all dumb.

I chuckle lightly and mentally count off the days until she’s out of here. If this is the kind of attitude I’m going to have to deal with when I come to work, I may need the damn summer off.

“I work here, eat my lunch here and if I have a hankerin’ for some of Aunt Sue’s supper, I’ll stay for dinner too.”

“So you’re always here?”

I turn around and lean up against the countertop with my ankles crossed. I take a bite of my sandwich and watch the frustration mask her beautiful face. “Ah, you askin’ ‘cause you’re interested?” I waggle my eyebrows at her.

Savannah’s eyes go wide as she crosses her arms over her chest, except she really doesn’t have arms since she’s swimming in her aunt’s sweatshirt.

“Whoa, who’s this?” Jeremiah has impeccable timing as always. If he had walked in a few minutes ago, he’d see her in a state of undress and would be looking for a way to get her out to the barn to ride his tractor. That’s the last thing I want, him messing around with Savannah. He steps right up next to me with a piece of wheat hanging out of his mouth. He tips his hat toward her, only to be met with an icy glare.

“Well, if it isn’t Mouse.”

“Vanna,” she says, icily.

I pat him on the back. “That’s right, Mouse grew up when she started hanging out with the Yankees and wants to be called “Vanna”,” I add, watching her face morph into anger.

“I don’t care what this fine piece wants to be called, as long as the sound coming out of her mouth is my name.”

I laugh and wish he was joking, but he’s not. However, seeing the shock on her face as the words tumble out of his mouth are priceless so I don’t do anything to correct him.

“I didn’t think you liked ice cubes that much, Jer.”

“Oh, I’ll make her warm.”

“You’re really disgusting,” she seethes at us as she steps away. I can hear Sue in the other room trying to pretend she’s busy, but her laughter is giving her away. “You’ll stay far away from me or I’ll tell my uncle that you’re harassing me and you’ll get fired.”

“Doubt it,” Jeremiah says as he winks at her. “Seriously, Mouse, what the heck happened to your braces and brown hair?

She relaxes, dropping her arms to her sides. “What’s wrong with you guys? You grew up. I grew up. You weren’t all tall and… whatever.” She moves her hands in an awkward motion toward us, solidifying my knowledge that she’s been looking at me. The very thought makes me want to go pound out some push-ups or something so she has more to stare at.

“She wants us,” Jeremiah says with a straight face, causing me to choke on my lunch. Savannah turns, throws up her middle finger and walks out of the room, leaving us standing there, each with our own thoughts. It’s going to be a longer summer than I originally thought, especially knowing her and her big-city attitude are in full force.

Chap

ter 6 – Savannah

I officially hate my life. No, hate isn’t a strong enough word, but despise doesn’t seem to drive home what I’m feeling right now.

Loathe?

Resent?

Revenge? Yes, that’s what I want. Revenge. I want revenge on Tyler, Jeremiah and most importantly my mother. Not that I can come up with something clever or anything that would make a difference in my mom’s world to show her how much I hate my life right now because of her.

I look down at the pile of manure and let my gaze wander to my boots. No, they’re not even my boots, but my Aunt Sue’s pink muck boots with stupid brown horses on them. Every part of me is sweating right down to my toes. I rest my head against the pitchfork, but only briefly before the smell of cow shit assaults my nasal passage. I’m going to need so much therapy after living here. I certainly hope that Paris has some amazing doctors with the capacity to brainwash my memories.

I don’t know how people wake-up here every day and act happy. There’s nothing here. TV is questionable. No mall within a hundred miles. No internet. No air conditioning. No cell service. I’ve literally stepped back in time and the highlight of my life is going to be the once a week trip I’m allowed to take into town – wherever that may be – to email my school work. Lucky me!

“Savannah.”

I roll my eyes, pick up the pitchfork and move the steaming pile of cow shit into the wheelbarrow. I know I’m the laughing stock of the ranch, but I don’t care right now. Maybe in the back of my mind this was my plan all along – pack nothing but my summer wardrobe so they’re forced to take me shopping. Anything I can do to get off the ranch and into a civilized lifestyle. So what if my uncle doesn’t like my “daisy dukes” and crop tops? It’s a hundred freaking degrees outside. He’s lucky I’m not in my bikini right now.

“I called for you.”