[WATTYS 2016 WINNER!] [COSMOPOLITAN Featured!]
Trapped in her white trash hell, Layla Danner is failing at life.
Her friend Peyton? Everybody thinks he's perfect, a staggeringly rich, handsome, and well-mannered story book prince. But they don't kn...
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Even with the golf cart, the ride over to the lake took a good fifteen minutes. The terrain, kept in its natural state, was a bumpy ride at best. Honestly, ATVs were probably the way to go, but the Bishops weren't ATV people.
As I bumped along the grass with the sunshine warming my skin, my mind wandered. I thought about all the things I needed to do: go grocery shopping, deep clean the trailer, get something nice for Shana's new baby. I wanted to get something for Daniel and Faith too. She really loved to crochet things and I bet she'd enjoy a new pattern book and maybe some yarn. It would keep her company while she was bedridden. And Daniel loved anything that made Faith happy.
Maybe I would be able to pick up more hours during the Stock Show and -
I scowled.
Because I'm always going to want to fuck you.
"Stupid jerk," I mumbled, "Who says stuff like that out loud?"
All the things I could have said, should have said had come bursting into my head as soon as I'd left the barn. By the time I fell asleep at night, I had a good list of comebacks, none of them very original, but any one of them would have been better than huffing and puffing out of there.
Let me pour you a tall glass of Get-Over-It.
Cry me a river and drown yourself in it.
You would be likable if it wasn't for that hole in your mouth that noises comes out of.
Or the always ubiquitous: Your mom.
No, not that one. I would never be able to say anything about his mom, not after what I knew about what she had done. My fool heart softened a touch towards Jake at that. A parent's betrayal was a scar a person carried for life.
Cancel my subscription to your issues.
"Much better," I told myself. Then I put the pedal to the metal. There wasn't much of a change in speed - it was still going to take me a hundred years to get to the lake.
I steered the cart to the left to avoid a dip in the grass and wondered if it was too late to bring it back up with Jake. Maybe I could trap him into saying the words again so I could deliver my zinger and pretend I'd thought it up on the spot. I'd throw in a haughty little laugh too, as if I thought it were the most ridiculous thing in the world that I would even consider having sex with him.
"You're so lame," I told myself, slapping away a horsefly from my calf.
I hummed for a little bit to the tune of a song I couldn't quite remember.
He probably fantasized about it, I thought. That's what guys did, right?
I scratched my nose.
How often did he think about me? How did he imagine me? What did naked-Layla look like in his head and what kind of things she say and do?
Before I could stop myself, I was wondering what he looked like naked. His arms were really nice, his muscles well defined, but not bunchy like some of the guys at school who lifted all day.
