SATELLITE HEART [A BARLEY LIGHTFOOT x READER STORY]

chapter 3

For the next few days, every time you were outside or looked outside, you saw Barley. He was there at the porch waving. He was dragging up trash cans and calling your name until you looked out the window and said hello. He was driving past your house and honking his horn while you got out of your car after work. 

Your siblings took notice of this and warned to tell on you. You begged them not to. You weren't doing anything, Barley was just being a nice neighbor. But they were too smart to fall for that one. It wasn't until one of them said it that you realized that you were probably seeing Barley far more now than you ever were because you were looking for him.

You wanted to see him. You wanted him to say your name and wave. You wanted him to think about you when it was four o'clock and you were getting off work. You wanted him to be there when you read on the porch. And that was embarrassing, not because of who he was, but because of who your parents thought he was. 

"I saw that Lightfoot kid dragging our trash cans up again tonight," your dad complained one day at dinner. The mashed potatoes you were swallowing stuck in your throat. "I swear, that kid tries to do something nice like that like it'll erase the permanent record he's got." 

"I would prefer him to stay away from our yard and house," your mom said. "No telling what he's really planning... like breaking in or something. Maybe we should get a house alarm, honey."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "Barley isn't a thief, guys. He's just being a good neighbor."

"He's being a suck up, like I said before," your dad said. "That kid doesn't do anything good for the community. All he does is ignore rules and laws and cause more trouble than I care to stand. Bronco is really gonna straighten that kid out, I hear. I told him I'm glad he's got some sort of good parental figure --- no offense to Laurel. I know she's doing her best, raising two boys without a dad."

The conversation made you sick. You excused yourself and left the table, then regretted it right away, because the looks from your siblings told you that they knew how you felt about Barley.

But how did you feel about Barley? He was a good friend, but you didn't know him that well still. He was a good guy, you decided. And you liked him in the normal way someone likes a good person.

And soon it was Tuesday, and your parents were at work and your siblings were at school and you stepped outside to see Barley getting out of his van with two large paper bags in hand. You couldn't hide your grin or your excitement. All of the stress and worries of getting caught hanging out with Barley disappeared and you finally felt like you could have fun and be yourself, not the frigid adult you were around your too-strict-parents.

"How many fries did you buy?" you asked, laughing as he hugged his arms around the greasy paper bags that looked like they could disintegrate in any moment.

"An impressive amount," he said, tossing one of the bags towards you. You caught it and sank down on the step. He took his seat at the usual step below you and opened up his bag. "Ten large fries and a box of chicken nuggets, because we need them." 

You laughed again. "Barley, holy crap. That's too much. How much was it? I'll pay for half---"

"No way," he said, shaking his head. 

"Barley," you said. 

"You can pay for it next time we do this," he said, flashing a grin towards you. "Now come on. We must mix all of these dipping sauces on this daring quest!"

You started to open all of the sauce packets and line them up. "Whoever doesn't hurl during the ranch-honey mix wins the box of chicken nuggets."

"Ooh, an excellent challenge," he said, "that I will probably win."