How My Summer Went Up in Flames (17 page)

“Well, since you brought up the position of my rear end, why don’t we discuss yours?”

“Excuse me?”

“Take it easy, cowgirl. I’m just wondering what a girl from New Jersey is doing on a horse, in New Mexico, in the middle of summer. Could you have picked a hotter day for a ride?”

I decide to drop the attitude, at least for the moment, and fill him in about how Logan is on his way to ASU, how he’d wanted to bring his car, and the guys decided it would be fun to have a road trip, blah, blah, blah.

“We’re leaving him in Tempe with the car and flying home in three days,” I explain. Wow. I get a pang when
I realize how soon that is. Not to mention, it’s almost the Fourth of July. The thought of it makes me feel hollow inside. Partly because I’m still worried about what I may have said to Joey and partly because I’ll be missing the fireworks at home. I’ve never missed the fireworks at Memorial Field before.

“So, I’m guessing one of the three amigos is your boyfriend?” Is he flirting?

“Nope.”

Lucca raises his eyebrows. He is flirting. I’m aware that Logan is listening. Matty and Spencer are falling behind, lost in their inane chatter. “So you just decided to go along for the ride?”

“More like was forced to. My parents wanted to keep me away from a guy.”

“Ahh.”

“My ex. He sort of filed a restraining order against me.”

Lucca laughs at that one, but not in a mean way. More like the kind of genuine outburst that occurs when you’re caught off guard. His laughter is contagious, and I start giggling too at this crazy girl named Rosie who did this absurd thing back in New Jersey. The ludicrousness of the whole
thing becomes clearer with every mile of this road trip.

“Why do I suddenly feel like I should be on my best behavior?” Lucca says.

I shrug. “Part of my charm.”

He slows his horse down so that it’s next to mine and leans toward me. “So, this is your getaway, then? Welcome to the wild west.” He puts out his right hand and reaches for my left for a kind of sideways shake. I’m sort of nervous about taking one hand off the reins, but for Lucca, I do. His calloused hand is strong, manlier than I’m used to. I start imagining what it would be like to feel that hand against my cheek, on my shoulder, around my waist. I gotta stop. I’m getting tingly all over. I guess being on horseback can do that to a girl.

So here I am, almost holding hands with a cowboy on horseback—mountains looming in the distance, the rugged landscape surrounding us—this could be the most romantic thing to happen to me in, well, again, ever. And it would be, if it weren’t for the three pairs of eyes I can feel behind me. Maybe I can pretend the three amigos, as Lucca called them, aren’t there.

“Is Rosie holding hands with the cowboy?” Spencer shouts.

The blood rushes to my cheeks and even more sweat trickles down the back of my neck.

“What? This darn horse won’t move,” yells Matty, who has fallen way behind. “What about Rosie and the cowboy?”

I turn around just as a frustrated Matty gives his horse a swift kick with the stirrups. I wince. What is he thinking? He musta put too much somethin’-somethin’ in that giddyap because suddenly his horse bolts past Spencer and Logan, picking up steam as he gallops past me and Lucca and down the winding rocky trail before disappearing into the trees. All I hear is the clop, clop, clop of hooves and Matty screaming, “Whoa, horsey, Whoaaaaa!!!”

“Pull back gently on the reins!” Lucca yells. He turns to me, Logan, and Spencer. “Just keep following this trail. The horses know the way. I got this.”

Lucca gives his horse a kick, with the correct amount of oomph, and takes off after Matty like a cowboy in a western movie, yelling directions to Matty as he disappears down the trail in a cloud of dust. Hi ho, Lucca; I can watch that guy all day. This is better than
True Grit
.

“There goes your hero,” Logan says as his horse walks beside mine. He gazes off down the trail without looking at me. “Did Matty really yell ‘horsey’?”

“Poor bastard. I hope he’s okay,” Spencer says, then asks, “Why were you holding the cowboy’s hand anyway, Rosie?”

“Lucca. His name is Lucca, not the cowboy. And I wasn’t holding his hand; I was shaking it.”

“I thought we got the introductions over with before we started the ride,” Logan says.

I scrunch my eyes at him without saying a word. Our eyes lock for a few seconds and then he pulls ahead of me on the trail. He rides pretty well.

“Come on, Rosie,” Spencer says. “Let’s see if we can catch up to Matty.”

Spencer is pretty good with his horse too. He guides his horse around me and gets it to canter down the path. Penny must think this seems like a good idea because she does the same. Once she gets going, it’s bumpier than I expected. My butt keeps smacking against the saddle as she picks up speed. Poor gal. I wonder if having a first-timer on her back is uncomfortable for her. She’s probably about ready to drop me at the car and return to her shady barn, but I’m not ready for this ride to end.

When we catch up to them, Lucca is standing in the trail, holding two sets of reins as he tightens the saddle on
Matty’s horse. Matty is sitting on a big gray rock, wiping blood off of his forehead.

“Oh my God, Matty! Are you okay?” I want to get off Penny and run to him, but I’m not exactly sure how to go about accomplishing this. I feel trapped.

“I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.”

“His horse took him under a branch and sort of scraped him off,” Lucca says.

“Dude, you were thrown from your horse? How cool,” Spencer says.

“I wouldn’t say thrown. It was more of a slow slide.” Matty sounds dejected.

Lucca nods in agreement and, to his credit, tries to make Matty feel better. “It’s good to fall every once in a while. It means you’re learning something. He got right up too. I was impressed.”

Lucca finishes adjusting the saddle, and a red-cheeked Matty gets in position to mount up. Like a parent watching her kid take his first swing at Little League, my muscles tighten in anticipation. It only takes him one try to get on the horse this time.

“How ’bout you ride up here with me?” Lucca suggests to Matty. Business before romance, I guess. He doesn’t
need Matty breaking a bone and suing his father.

Now that I’m a horse away from Lucca, I’m not able to talk to him. In a way, it’s better. I’m able to focus on the ride. I’m horseback riding in the Sandia Mountains. When will I be able to say that again? I watch the twitch of Penny’s ears, inhale through my nose, and exhale slowly through my mouth. Everything else feels so far away, and I’m surprised to find I’m not thinking about anything, or anyone, as I enjoy the sound of horse hooves clopping along the trail. My hearts sinks as we descend the mountain and I see the ranch in the distance.

When we reach the ranch, we gather in front of the barn, where Lucca and his dad supervise our collective dismounts. Lucca holds Penny’s reins and puts a hand in the small of my back as I swing my right leg over my horse and lower it to the ground. I take my left foot out of the stirrup and look up at him. I have the sudden urge to touch the charm around his neck.

“Is this the sun?” I ask, taking the medallion in my hand.

“A glyph.”

“Huh?” I’m still holding it in my hand.

“Native American sun symbol. Like hieroglyphics.”

“Was it made by Native Americans?” Now that we’re
not on horseback anymore, I notice he’s not that tall—but his chiseled features more than make up for his average height.

“Nah. Some band I saw in Arizona. Bought it off their merch table.”

I had almost forgotten my question.
Do not stare directly at Lucca,
I caution myself.

“Nice.” I let go of the charm, keeping my eyes fixed on it as I do.

“How long are you in New Mexico for?”

“We’re leaving for Arizona from here.” Lucca’s dark brown eyes search for mine, but I have to look away. Now is not the time to form new attachments.

“Next time you visit, try to do it in the fall. The weather is better, and every October, Albuquerque has its International Balloon Fiesta. Ever been in a hot air balloon?”

“No. But I’d never been on a horse until today either.”

“And look how well that turned out. If you decide to do it, look me up. I’ll take you for a ride. You’ll love floating with the clouds.”

My stomach already feels like it is. I know Lucca is just being friendly, but my resistance is fading. Could I make it to Albuquerque in the fall? I’m afraid to look at the guys. I sense
they’re the ones doing the eye rolling now.

“Call me here when you need to plan your next getaway.” Then Lucca leans in and gives me an innocent, but sweet, kiss on my cheek. His scruff gives me chills.

I turn to see Lucca’s dad and my three guys staring at us. We stare back at them. It’s like a gun duel at the OK Corral. Matty is the first to make a move. He runs a finger along the scrape on his forehead. Logan turns and walks toward the car. Lucca’s dad tells him to bring the horses into the barn. Lucca starts to lead Penny away from me, then stops. He takes off his necklace and walks back. In one quick motion, he fastens it around my neck.

“I can’t take this,” I say.

“How ’bout you give it back next time I see you. You know where to find me.” He gives me a crooked, flirty smile, then saunters back to Penny. I think we both know we’re never going to see each other again, but I like the idea of having a cowboy in New Mexico to fantasize about whenever I’m in a funk.

Matty waits for me. He puts an arm on my shoulder, buddylike, and leads me toward the car.

“It always starts off well, doesn’t it? Let’s go before Lucca’s horse ends up like Joey’s Mustang.”

I shrug off his hand and shoot him a cold, hard stare. Matty smiles and throws his arms up in surrender. “Just trying to be helpful.”

I give him my give-me-a-break face as he opens the door for me. I’m not really mad; I know he’s only joking. As Matty walks around the car to his side, I stand there for a few seconds, my hand on the door, gazing at the barn and the mountains beyond. It’s funny, I think as I slip inside and slam the car door shut. It’s Penny, not Lucca, who I’m already missing.

The ride from New Mexico to Arizona is the most
tedious stretch of the journey thus far. Outside the car, the scenery is flat, brown, and repetitive, while inside, it is ridiculously—no, make that annoyingly—silent. Here we go again. At least girls have actual hormonal shifts that account for their mood swings. It’s biology. But these three, what’s their excuse?

For the first hour, Logan won’t turn on the car stereo. Matty has his earbuds in, Spencer is fingering the strings of his guitar without strumming, and I’m listening to my own tunes. Even though I’ve got control of my phone (Matty handed it to me when we got in the car), I’m having trouble getting cell reception out here. I keep waiting for someone to say something—anything. I see signs for Historic
Route 66, but no one even mentions it. I remember this section of Spencer’s itinerary. He called it “The Mother Road.”

I’m shocked and disappointed when I yell, “Hey, look, we’re coming up to the Continental Divide!” and no one acknowledges that I’ve spoken. I’m not even sure what it is, just seems like something this crew would be interested in. Why are they mad at me? It’s not like I was making out with Lucca. And I’m not the one who kissed him on the cheek. Or gave him Native American jewelry. Fine. If they want to play the silent treatment game, I’m going to win. Honestly, it’s like they don’t want me to be happy. One step up, two steps back. I am so freakin’ sick of this car and them.

I turn up the volume on my music, fold my arms, close my eyes, and plan to sleep until we reach the Grand Canyon. I can’t believe I felt wistful about leaving the ranch and this trip coming to an end. I want to see my family and my girlfriends. I want to sleep in my own bed. I want to get my stupid effin’ court date over with and get on with my summer routine. This sucks! I am throwing a mental tantrum. I am done with these three. I wonder if I can ignore them for the rest of the trip. It’s been days since Dollywood, and I’m ready for this roller-coaster ride to be done.

 • • •

About thirty minutes later, Matty points a pack of spearmint gum my way. “Want some?” he asks. I pretend to sleep. A few minutes after that, Spencer says, “We’re almost to Gallup.” I ignore him, too. It’s always on their terms. Well, I hope they’re catching a breeze right now.

“We’ll be stopping for food and gas when we get there,” Logan says. “If she wants to sleep, or pretend to sleep, let her.”

What I want to do is kick him in the back of the head with my foot, but I keep up my game of possum. Besides, I can eat without talking. A minute later, the car slows to a stop and Logan puts it in park. That was fast. But when Logan starts pounding the steering wheel and yelling, “Shit, shit, shit,” I open my eyes and see that we’re on the side of the road, not in the parking lot of some fast-food restaurant.

“Flat?” Matty asks.

Spencer leans over to look at the gauges. “Outta gas,” he sighs.

This is so not Logan. His personality is definitely lacking in some areas, but I’ve always felt safe with him. He’s like my dad: always in control, always knowing things, like when we’re running low on fuel and where we’re supposed to be and when. I’m feeling a little sorry for him but quickly push it away.

“Matty and I will walk down the interstate and get
some gas. It’s only a few miles,” Logan says. I look down the road. I can see the next exit from here. It doesn’t look that far, but nothing does on the open road. Who knows how long it will take them. And it’s disgustingly hot outside. “Spence, you and Rosie stay here with the car.”

I pull out a bottle of water from my backpack and hand it to Matty. “Take this. And buy yourself some more at the gas station before you walk back. You need to stay hydrated.”

“Thanks, Rosie.” He looks less than thrilled to have been enlisted to make the long, sweltering trek with Logan the Grouch.

I watch them walk along the shoulder until their shapes blur in the heat rising off the pavement. Then I join Spencer, who is sitting on the trunk strumming his guitar. He plays a classic rock riff I recognize from Guitar Hero and segues into another song.