Breene, K F - Jessica Brodie Diaries 01 (7 page)

Candace flashed me a quizzical
look. “Ye-ah, why?”

“How does someone get married at
nineteen?”

Juniper chimed in with, “Easy as
fallin’ off a log—if you’re not a hussy!”

Candace and I both looked at her
cube, but she hiding behind her plant. All we could see was a mound of blond,
teased hair above leaves. Listening to our every word, but hiding.

Candace continued, stepping into
the cube and lowering her voice so it was harder to overhear. “Yeah, people
here get married pretty early sometimes. High-school sweethearts and all the
rest. Not everyone, but there are definitely those that do. He is big into
Jesus and going by the bible and all that. I think he waited, for you know…,”
she raised her eyebrows to indicate just what he was waiting for, “until he was
married, and now his wife is pregnant.”

My world was blown. All that at
nineteen? Waited until marriage? Did that happen anymore? What if the other
party was awful in bed? Did they only stick to missionary? I would have to talk
this over with Gladis.

Funny that the first person I thought
to talk to about this was an old woman.

Candace and I got to business after
that. The work seemed pretty easy. Spreadsheet for this, calculator and report
for that. I learned fast, worked faster, and knew computers. Without any effort
I was already ahead of the curve. It was a new field for me, but if it
continued to start this slow, I would have no trouble getting up to speed.

The rest of the week basically went
as the first day did, only increasingly lonelier. I tried to make up for that
by emailing my friends as often as possible—Ami included. She nearly shat
herself with glee at receiving my first email—I could tell by the amount of
exclamation points—and I learned that while my life was going 800 miles a
minute, theirs was the same old slow.

Saturday morning. Throughout the
week, I’d met Candace’s work friends, most of which I was okay parting with,
but when it was suggested we all go to a rodeo—well, who's gonna say no, eh? It
would be my first. And after some of the guys heard that, I no longer had a
choice.

I was up and ready well before my
ride came to pick me up. I was going with Candace, John Paul, and Dave. At
least with Dave driving, he couldn’t stare at my boobs.

The day was hot and stuffy. I was
wearing a cute little halter that went to my belly button, and a little white
skirt. Not too little--it had to cover the ugly part in back of my legs, and I
had to be able to bend over without showing my crotch—but little enough to get
the point across.

I heard the honk and saw Candace’s
text that they were here. Yay!

When I stepped through the gate,
Dave’s beater was parked where my beater had been for half a day—Gladis asked
that I park in the warehouse, which she called a garage. Being that the other
vehicles in the spacious garage each cost over a hundred-grand each—some well
over that price tag and collector's items—I had a feeling it wasn’t for my
benefit that my old Honda was stored away.

Three stunned faces greeted me as I
strolled down the walk.

“What is she, a movie star? Is she
from
Hollywood
?” Dave asked as I
neared the open-windowed car. They must’ve not had air-conditioning, either,
being that it was hot enough to fry eggs, and the window was open. Obviously
they were in my pay grade.

“Hey Jess,” John Paul said from the
front seat, “which movie did you say you starred in?”

“How much time you got? There was a
time when you couldn’t throw a stone without hitting a Hollywood Star that I
acted with!”

“No kidding! Really?!” Candace
shrieked with giant eyes. She leaned across the backseat and peeped through the
window.

“No, not really. Yes, I'm kidding.
I am renting the cottage out back. And by cottage, what I really mean is pool
house. I am renting the really nice pool house, which is a giant for what it
is, out back.”

“Man, girl. Just give me a second
now. I was thinkin’ you was rich and famous for two seconds. Phew.” Dave shook
his head, wiped his pimply face, and looked out the window at me.

“Man girl? Confused on my sexual
orientation?” I shook my head. I should have been quicker to climb in, because
once he caught sight of my outfit he had a good gawk; mouth wide open, eyes up
and down, pausing on my br**sts and crotch. Lovely.

John Paul was looking at me, too,
with a veil across his eyes that I couldn’t read. He quickly looked away as I
started moving to the back of the car. I could have sworn he crossed himself. I
re-checked my outfit, suddenly apprehensive.

“Wow, Jess...
ica
,"
Candace gushed as I climbed in, "you look really great! Your outfit is
totally cute! I wish I could wear something like that!” Her eyes paused on my
necklace, and then swept to my bracelet.

I felt a smile bud. She was almost
my speed, genuine, and sweet. Keeper. I felt worlds better about my choice in
clothes as it pertained to non-religious types.

“Why couldn’t you wear something
like this?” I asked her, strapping in.

“Yeah, right! I don’t have the body
for that!” She smoothed her shirt over her D-cups.

“Shut up, Candace! You could
totally rock this. Get some confidence and you are golden. I need to go
shopping out here anyway—you should come.”

“Okay, that sounds fun. I know some
great places. And the outlet mall isn’t too far from here.”

My eyes lit up at the mention of
the outlet mall, but I let the matter drop to spare the boys in the car, who
were currently silent, probably rolling their eyes.

About half hour later, we arrived
at what looked like a small scale fair, and a large scale petting zoo, combined
into one. As we went through the entrance, which cost $15, there was a small
Ferris Wheel off to the right with a few other mechanical things for people not
wearing white. To the left was a large building with a pig in an enclosure out
front. Ahead of us stood the back of towering grand stands and a crowd of
people mill-and-flocking around. I took that to mean we got here before the
activities started.

We wound our way through beer and
food vendors—it smelled delicious—and off to the right. Before we got to the
kiddie rides, we veered back left, heading around an open area that must house
the event.

That’s about when I noticed all the
horses. They were everywhere! Tied to trailers, to fences, led around, ridden!
It was like a real-life Western! And guess what came with horses? Horse poop. I
started looking down as often as up.

We rounded a corner through the
make-shift horse village and I got my first glimpse at what the stands were
looking at. Nothing. Caged nothingness. A big, open, oval, dirt area. That’s
it.

The expanse of circular dirt was
enclosed by a white, metal gate made out of piping. Or, at least, that’s what it
looked like. At the back end stood a solid structure, interrupting the gate and
housing an electronic sign, similar to a basketball score board. Along the
metal gate ran various colorful banners for local businesses.

We walked on until we joined a
crowd of onlookers. Weaseling between them, I got a chance to see what everyone
was so interested in. Bulls. Lots and lots of bulls. Large, brooding animals
with bent heads, flaring nostrils and giant testicals. Sometimes with evil,
hard, and jagged horns adorning their blunt heads.

It was a sight to see.

The beast closest to me faced the
crowd. Its shoulder to about my chest, the monster looked through his enclosure
with a confident, hostile gaze, daring anyone to come within its territory.

I took a step back.

“Hey Jess, how you doin’?”

Phil stepped beside me--he'd come
in the other car. About my age with a blond ponytail, I didn’t mind talking to
Phil. He was a bit slow, due to large amounts of a green bud, but still a
decent sort of guy.

“Oh hey, Phil. Pretty good. How are
you?”

“Doin’ good. Doin’ real good. You
excited for the rodeo? First one! I just can’t believe it.” He looked at me
with a hazy smile. Definitely a stoner.

I laughed. “Yes, I am ready to lose
my rodeo cherry.”

Phil’s eyes flashed and his face lit
up in a hopeful expression.

John Paul chuckled, stepping beside
us. “Easy boy,” he said, looking around me to meet Phil’s eyes. “With all her
options, being the closest doesn’t give you precedence. Besides, you move so
slow you could watch paint dry--gotta be quick for the Californian!”

John Paul aimed a playful punch at
Phil, who surprised me by ducking and weaving, firing back a quick retaliation.

“Boys!” I yelled in equally good
humor. “I might be the oldest one of you two, but I am no babysitter.” I pushed
them both away.

“You ain’t older’n me,” Phil said,
stepping back in close. Possibly a little too close.

John Paul raised his hand. “Guilty.
You are ancient.”

“Oh, nice J.P.!”

John Paul looked mildly shocked
with my choice of nickname, but not displeased, which was a green light to keep
using it. It was a fleeting thought. We were in the middle of the burly animals
now, all uncommonly still.

I felt my mind hush, watching them
as they were watching me.

Why were they so still? Were they
plotting something? They had a bunch of people roaming around and staring at
them. Their new territory was sometimes shared with another dude. I didn’t know
bulls, but I did know dogs and men, and both would’ve been barking or fighting.
Usually both.

The lack of movement made me
nervous. Standing amongst these brutes was not smart. I could tell.

Lifting my gaze to take in the
whole scene, I noticed, at the other opening to this mess of animal
testosterone, stood a cowboy with an ass that would not quit! He stood with his
arms folded, inspecting a group of five giant bulls. They, too, were still. In
evil repose.

Groping that cowboy's ass with my
eyes, I couldn't stop myself from a distraught sigh when he dropped his hands
to his sides and turned in the opposite direction. Before he disappeared out of
sight, he threw one final glance at those bulls, allowing me to get a peek at
his face.

A shot of pure adrenaline pierced
my gut and electrified my heart, spreading out to my limbs. My fingers tingled
and toes went numb. I couldn't breathe. I nearly peed myself.

Apollo!

Like a dumb girl, my knees gave out
and I missed my step. I kind of tilted and half fell into JP, who was not ready
for my weight. He grabbed me as he stumbled toward the nearest bull pen, headed
downward.

“Jess—“ JP struggled with my
clutching hands, needing my weight removed to stand on his own. But I was
wearing white; him disentangling at that moment meant I would hit the dirt.
Unacceptable.

Phil to the rescue! His hands
reached into my armpits, currently drenched with sweat, and, with effort,
hoisted me upright. I teetered, clutching his shoulders, until I was
sufficiently recovered. Then I gave Phil a smile and grateful nod. Not only was
he a savior, but he refrained from wiping his hands on his jeans and making a
yeuuck sound. Gentleman.

“Jessica, you alright?” Phil asked
worriedly.

“What the....what is goin’ on
Jessica? I am a married man!” JP said, half humorously, but half irritated.

I didn't have time to apologize. My
head swiveled back to where that cowboy had disappeared. I needed to get there.
To that place. I needed to follow that ass beyond the trailer, with my tongue
hanging down my face if need be.

"Jessica?" Candace asked
worriedly.

I spared her a glance. Then
realized I was the subject of scrutiny.

One last check to make sure he was
really gone, and not just hiding like a Jack-in-the-Box, I turned to my group
with an apologetic smile. “S-sorry everyone. Sorry JP. Thanks Phil. I am
stupidly clumsy. Sorry about that. I thought I saw someone I knew and stopped
paying attention to what I was doing.”

“Jesus, Jessica. I thought they
were going to toss you into the bull pen or something.” Candace sighed in
relief.

“Candace. Lord’s name...!” JP said
with too much hostility.

“Shut up JP,” she answered, using his
new nickname.

“Who did you think you knew? I
thought you were new here?” Phil asked as he looked around.

“This guy I half-met at the store
the other night. I forgot my money and he paid for my groceries. I never really
got to say thank you. He was over there by those big bulls.”

Everyone followed my pointed
finger.

Phil groaned, his head tilted back
to look at the sky with a smirk on his face.

“You mean Davies?” JP asked. “The
guy that owns those five bulls?” He mimicked my point to clarify.

“I don’t know if he owns those
bulls. But Mr. Davies, yeah. I don’t know the first name. Anyway, doesn't
matter.” I was strangely desperate to change the subject.

So was Phil. “Jessica, have you
ever seen rodeo bulls up close?”

He leaned toward me, his arm still
half around my waist from the stumbling debacle. His eyes were clearer now than
before. I saw little flecks of gold hidden in the depths of brown.

“Would you guys quit swarming her
like a pack of hyenas?" Candace said with sauce as she stepped in,
grabbing my arm and tugging. "Jesus, leave her alone, will you?!”

“Candace, lord’s name in vein...”
JP muttered, slightly bowed, his hands in his pockets.

She rolled her eyes again and led
me from the bull area as she said, “New blood, you know? They don’t need courage
because you’re one of the group. They have all the time in the world to act
like savages. You just have to get tough and tell them to buzz off!”

I smiled. “Got it. I am just really
out of my element here.”

“Hey, where are you two goin’? The
broncs are startin’ soon,” Dave yelled.