Racing Savannah (4 page)

“It’s one of Dad’s tests. He gave me a budget and wants to see what I’ll do with it.” Jack shakes his head. “I hope Star can at least place tomorrow. Otherwise I’ve wasted a shitload of my dad’s money…and I’ll have failed his test.”

“And then you won’t get a sticker, huh?” I joke. Must be nice to have money to play with.

“I want my father to know I can handle running the farm. I don’t want to let him down.” He gives me a sad smile, sounding sincere about wanting to work hard, and I feel a hard pang in my chest for him.

A successful horse turns a profit. And Star hasn’t even made back the money the Goodwins spend on his grain and horseshoes.

“I’m sure you made the right call on the stud fee. Breeding usually works out. Star ran so fast this morning, he probably would’ve made it to Cincinnati before tomorrow if he’d just kept on going.”

Jack laughs quietly, and before I know what I’m doing, I reach out and touch his wrist, to show I support him. He coughs. Then I jerk my hand away. Shit.

I nervously lick my lips, hoping my being forward doesn’t influence whether he gives me the job or not.

He takes off his hat to reveal disheveled blond hair that curls around his shirt collar. We’re standing so close, I can see a red tint mixed in with the blond.

“You’re easy to talk to,” he says, turning his cowboy hat over in his tanned hands. They’re strong and calloused, like they’ve hauled plenty of wheelbarrows. His big blue eyes peek up at me.

“Jack!” a girl yells. He shoves his hat back on as a younger girl who looks to be in middle school comes running up.

She latches on to his elbow like a barnacle. “I’m coming with you to Kentucky!”

“You can’t come, sweetheart,” Jack replies, wrapping an arm around her. “Have you met Savannah yet? This is my sister, Shelby.”

Shelby says hello but goes right back to pestering her big brother. “I want to be with Strawberry.”

Jack looks at me. “Shelby thinks that Strawberry Fields belongs to her, but Dad would say otherwise.”

“I’ve been with Strawberry ever since she was a foal!” Shelby says. “And I’m not abandoning her today.”

“This isn’t something you should see,” Jack says with a soft voice.

“Come on! I’ve seen cows do it over at Whitfield Farms.”

Jack’s face hardens. “The Whitfields let you watch that?”

“Er, well, Trey and I watched one day. His parents didn’t know—”

“I’ll be having a talk with Trey,” Jack says, setting his hands on his hips.

“No, don’t!” Shelby whines. “My life would be over!”

Trey must be one of Rory’s brothers. Jack whispers to me, “Shelby has a crush on him.”

“I do not.” She pounds Jack on the chest with her fist.

“There’s no reason to get violent,” Jack says. “We all have crushes from time to time.”

“Like your crush on Abby Winchester?” Shelby teases.

“I don’t have a crush on Abby, okay? Shut up about that.” Jack avoids my stare.

“She’s sooo pretty,” Shelby says to me. “She told me that last year she won Fairest of the Fair in her county.”

“Of course she did,” I mutter.

“If I can’t go with you and Strawberry, will you take me to the movies tonight, Jack?”

“I wish I could, sweetheart, but I already have plans.” He suddenly focuses on his watch. “I need to get going if I’m gonna make it back in time. See you tomorrow, Savannah.”

He walks away without another word, leading Strawberry and his sister to the trailer. But then he glances back at me, smiles, and waves. I return the wave.

Who does he have plans with tonight? Does he have a date? And more importantly, why do I care?

The Goodwin kids are not what I expected…I figured they’d spent all their time taking tea and laughing hoity-toitily or something.

I open the door to Star’s stall and slowly approach the horse, to continue getting to know him. “So, it’s just me and you…want to tell me why you buck your riders?” He lets out a little snort and nudges my hand then tries to chow down on it.

“Hey, now!” I shove his face away from me. Sure, he’s being snotty, but I’d take horses over humans any day of the week. Horses never give a damn if I have labels on my clothes.

Herds are sort of like high school—they definitely have their own social dynamic. There’s always a stallion or gelding who thinks he’s in charge. Out in the pasture, horses bully each other around food and water; lead horses get their fill before others get a bite or a sip, and if a horse that’s low in the pecking order tries to butt in, he’ll get bitten or kicked. And there’s always a troublemaker or two, wallowing in the mud and teasing the fillies.

Once Star has calmed down and he’s treating me with respect, I pet his ears and let him eat a treat out of my palm. I want him to feel safe with me so he’ll let me ride him. “Good boy. Now, let’s see, what are you scared of? Raccoons, obviously. Are you scared of fillies? What about mud puddles?”

I rub his head until his breathing slows and he falls asleep.

Later on Saturday evening, Rory is driving me down the streets of Franklin, giving me the grand tour.

“We have three Shell gas stations, but each has a different nickname. There’s the
Social
Shell
, where almost everybody goes to get gas. I always see somebody I know there. Then there’s the
Secret
Shell
, which no one notices, because it’s not on one of the main highways. And the last is called the
Soviet
Shell
, because it’s usually out of gas and the snack shelves inside are always empty.”

“Wow,” I say with a laugh.

“Franklin was named after
the
Benjamin Franklin,” Rory says.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. He also discovered electricity and invented the carriage odometer and he’s on the hundred dollar bill.”

“I bet Benjamin Franklin never had to take the bitch seat in a carriage.” Rory brought his Irish setter, Ava, along tonight and apparently she always gets the passenger seat so she can hang her head out the window. “I mean, isn’t it ironic that I’m sitting in the bitch seat while the dog gets the best spot?” I say, making Rory laugh. “My mom would’ve liked your tour. She was real big into history.”

“Where is she?”

“She died,” I say quietly, and Rory gives me a sad look. I tell him about the cancer and how much I miss everything from her macaroni lasagna to the way she braided my hair to how she said
I
love
you
every night.

“That macaroni lasagna sounds amazing,” he says, grinning.

“Oh, my mom kicked Martha Stewart’s ass for sure.” I tune the radio from rap to the hard rock station. “Ror, who is Abby Winchester?”

“I dunno.” He smacks my hand away from the tuner and flips it back to the rap station.

I pick at a piece of duct tape holding the truck’s upholstery together. “Mr. Goodwin sure seemed serious about Jack returning Abby’s phone calls today. She’s practically stalking him.”

“Maybe Mr. Goodwin’s doing some special business with her or something? I don’t know her. She doesn’t go to our school, unless she’s a freshman.”

“I see.”

“Why do you care?”

I tell Rory everything: how Jack didn’t know who I was and how he offered me a private tour.

Rory gives me a worried look. “Jack’s a good boss…but you shouldn’t get your hopes up about him—he never has serious relationships. Well, except for this one girl—Senator Lukens’s daughter. They dated last year. It didn’t end well apparently.” Rory pauses to drum his hands on the steering wheel. “So he wanted to take you on a private tour?”

“Yep. I bet he wouldn’t make me take the bitch seat either,” I taunt.

“Hush.”

I scratch Ava’s ears. “So my dating prospects are pretty bad so far. I mean, you’re out because you might break your neck trying to kiss me. And Bryant Townsend is a real dick—”

“I’d rather you date just about anybody besides Douchey McDoucherson.”

I howl laughing at Bryant’s nickname. “Even, like, that guy who rules North Korea who wears pajamas all the time? You’d be okay with me dating him?”

Rory stops at a traffic light. “That sounds like a great idea for my next script.” He pulls a scrap of paper from his pocket and the pen from behind his ear. He rips the cap off with his teeth and starts jotting down notes:
Hot
teen
girl
kidnapped
by
ruthless
commie
bastard/she falls for him/he brainwashes her by impressing her with his knife collection!!!

During the rest of my driving tour of Franklin, Rory tells me about how he wants to be a famous screenwriter one day. But I can’t figure out what genre Rory writes. What movies have eight million explosions, twice as many deaths, and loads of gratuitous sex scenes?

We pull into the lot of a place called Tennessee Ballers and park next to a Mercedes convertible. Two pretty girls, a guy, and Jack are climbing out of the car as we speak.

Crap. Of course Jack would be here, haunting me. I swivel to face Rory. “How can we afford this place?”

“It’s cheap, I promise,” Rory says.

Walking up to the wooden doors, I realize Tennessee Ballers is an old flour mill. A drugstore across the street is now an empty storefront.

Inside Tennessee Ballers, I gaze around at the odd décor. The tables, chairs, and carpet are tasteful and clearly brand new, but different kinds of dead fish (bass? sturgeon?) mounted on plaques and pictures of famous football players cover the walls. A picture of the Hundred Oaks’ football team from four years ago hangs right beside the cash register. The caption says the photo is from the Tennessee State Championship game. They had a girl quarterback? God, that’s so badass.

Rory and I get in line behind one of the girls who came here with Jack. She’s super tall with long blond hair. “Fish tacos at a place called Tennessee Ballers? Who came up with that?” I ask.

She turns, and a smile spreads across her face. “I know, the name is awful. I have to listen to guys make perverted comments every time I’m here.”

Rory pats his stomach. “Man, do I love me some fish tacos.”

“Ugh,” the girl says, rolling her eyes.

The guy she’s with grins evilly. “You love it when guys talk like that.”

“I hate you. So much,” the girl says to him before striding to the counter.

“You love me!”

“Who are they?” I whisper to Rory.

“That’s Vanessa Green and Colton Bradford. Colton’s dad is the mayor of Franklin. And Vanessa’s really cool. Her brother used to go to Hundred Oaks but now he’s in the NFL. First person ever from our school to make it.”

Crazy. How is it I’ve only been here a few days and I keep meeting people who are way out of my league?

Vanessa studies the menu, but Rory is studying Vanessa like
she’s
what’s for supper. I nudge him with my elbow. “Is she why we’re here?”

“No, we’re here for tacos.” Rory points his chin at the menu. Liar.

Jack slips an arm around the other pretty girl’s waist as they check out the menu.

“And who’s she?” I ask.

“Kelsey Painter. She’s a cheerleader.”

I’m so confused. Wasn’t he calling Abby Winchester earlier today? What if his bedroom really does have a revolving door?

I daydream of Jack touching me like that. Gently dragging his fingers across my hip, zapping me with lightning. Wait a minute. He was flirting with me earlier today when he knew he had plans with this girl tonight? What an ass. And I’m an ass for even thinking about him.

I focus on the food. The menu is full of tacos, nachos, tortilla chips, rice, and beans. This place is dirt cheap. I can buy a taco and rice for like $3. Nice.

That’s when Jack looks over his shoulder and sees me there. Our eyes meet and the side of his mouth quirks into a smirky grin.

“Savannah, hey. This is my friend Kelsey,” he says, and I shake hands with the girl. “Savannah’s living at my farm now.”

“Can we get chips and salsa?” she asks, turning away from me.

“Sure.” Jack seems startled that Kelsey just snubbed me, but I’m not. She clearly wants to jump him. Or already jumps him. Or something.

“You want to sit with us, Savannah?” Jack asks.

“Yeah, we do,” Rory rushes to reply. His eyes flick over to Vanessa.

After I get my order, I join Jack, Kelsey, Vanessa, and Colton at a circular booth in the corner. Curious, I watch them out of the corner of my eye. Kelsey taps on her cell phone as her friends dig in. Between texts, she feeds chips to Jack, giggling like crazy. He eats the chips she feed him because his stomach is clearly doing the thinking—just like with 99 percent of all guys. But he glances at me as he chews.

“Oh my God, this rice is so good,” Vanessa says, shoveling it into her mouth.

“I think it’s ’cause they cooked it in straight-up butter,” Jack says, practically inhaling his rice.

“I wish they served this stuff at Starbucks,” Vanessa says.

“You only love three things in this world.” Colton ticks them off on his fingers. “Starbucks, clothes, and meeting guys at Starbucks.”

“That is so not true,” she replies, throwing a tortilla chip at Colton’s face. The chip sticks to his black T-shirt. He plucks it off and eats it.

Rory slides into my booth with his tray. “You guys are so rude. I can’t believe you started eating before I was seated.”

“That’s what you get for being a perv, Whitfield,” Vanessa says, sucking her drink through her straw. She shakes her cup. “I’m already out of iced tea.”

“Maybe if you didn’t drink like a horse,” Rory says.

Vanessa rattles her cup again, trying to get more tea out.

“Let me get you more to drink. I won’t be able to eat in peace if I don’t,” Rory says, leaping to his feet and snatching the cup out of her hand. He jogs over to the beverage station to get a refill. He comes back and passes Vanessa her tea. She takes one sip and nearly gags.

“This is warm. Where’s the ice?” she asks.

“Oh, well I don’t like ice, so I didn’t get you any.”

“But it’s
iced
tea!” she says. “It tastes crappy when it’s warm.”

“Oh.” Rory looks down at the cup. “Maybe you should put some ice in it then.”

I silently laugh and Vanessa throws a tortilla chip at him, looking furious, but then it turns into a subtle smile.

“So,” Jack says to me. “Tell me about yourself. What else do you like besides riding—”

I’m about to start talking when Kelsey starts bragging about the college party she went to last night. “It was an underwear party and everybody danced around in foam and we sprayed silly string everywhere.”

Jack bites into his taco, looking perturbed at Kelsey.

Rory mouths “silly string,” and his eyes light up. He digs the scrap of paper out of his pocket again and jots down
underwear
and
silly
string.

“Tell me about that girl from last night on your Instagram pictures,” Colton says to Kelsey. “The one from the sorority you want to rush next year.”

“She said she’s going to study abroad this spring,” Kelsey says.

“Never mind. Long-distance relationships are hard,” Colton replies. “I couldn’t handle dating that girl Ellen I met in Murfreesboro.”

Jack rolls his eyes. “That’s only thirty minutes from here.”

“Yeah.” Colton purses his lips and shakes his head. “She was just too far away. I can watch a whole episode of
I
Didn’t Know I was Pregnant
in that amount of time.”

Because they’ve both been drinking like horses, Rory and Vanessa stand to go refill their cups at the same time. Rory purposely pushes a lever on the Coke machine, making orange soda spray on her hand.

“You ass!” She pushes on the ice button, grabs a cube of ice, and drops it inside his T-shirt. He jumps and wiggles around like an eel.

“He’ll never get her into bed now,” Colton muses, laughing.

Considering she’s popular and wealthy, I don’t think Rory will ever get her into bed even if he does behave like a perfect gentleman.

• • •

After dinner at the perverted taco place, we drive out to a huge field where a large bonfire is already blazing. Tiki torches are everywhere. I feel like I’m on that show
Survivor
, only instead of surviving on a deserted island, I have to survive a couple of hours with people I’ve never met before.

Trucks and four-wheelers are parked on the muddy grass. My heart speeds up as I scan the large group of kids, drinking, dancing, laughing, jumping around.

The second I hop down from Rory’s truck, people from my new school are already staring at me. With a firm grasp on Ava’s leash, Rory glides through the crowd, laughing and grinning at everybody. He seems like the All-American Guy, one of those people everyone wants to be friends with. When I get separated from him in the crowd, Rory reaches back through a cluster of people and grabs my arm, pulling me closer to him.

That gets the attention of the girls. And unlike the guys smiling and pointing me out to their friends, the girls are giving me Ultimate Stink Eye.

“Be careful tonight,” Rory says quietly. He scans my tank top and skinny jeans.

We go get beers from the keg. Vanessa is silently drinking from a plastic cup. Some girl speeds over to Rory and jumps into his arms, squealing and hugging him.

I want to say something to Vanessa, but the second I open my mouth, I lose my nerve and take a sip of beer. I’ve never been all that good at making girlfriends, considering I grew up around horses and boys and more horses. Vanessa catches me gawking at her and moves closer.

“Where are you from?”

“West Virginia.”

“Never been there.”

“You aren’t missing much. The only difference near as I can tell is that people here refer to all soft drinks as ‘Coke.’ Even if it’s Sprite, you call it Coke. We refer to it as soda up north.”

She laughs, looking around. “You aren’t missing much here either. This party’s pretty lame.”

“Where’d your friends Colton and Kelsey go?”

“Colton went home already ’cause he was tired. He loves sleeping. And Kelsey’s over there.” Vanessa nods toward the edge of the circle where Kelsey is sitting on a log next to Jack, talking animatedly with her hands. He’s roasting a marshmallow.

“Are they together?” I ask.

“Not yet…but I think she wants to try the whole relationship thing with him, even though he rarely dates seriously. He’s too into his work. They’ve been friends a long time but they’ve never been single at the same time before…so it might work out. I dunno.”

Is Jack about to be taken? That’s not surprising. Still, a weird feeling of disappointment settles inside my chest. I ignore it.

That’s when a beefy guy wearing a wrestling T-shirt comes over. “I’m Brent,” he slurs in my ear.

“Oh yeah?” His hot beer breath on my skin makes me shiver—and not in the good way.

The guy cups my elbow. “Want to get out of here, new girl?”

“No, thanks.”

“But you’re hot.” He spills beer on my boot. I give Vanessa a look that says “is this guy smoking something?” and she rolls her eyes.