Page 53 of How We Loved

I look into his eyes, feeling the sincerity of his words.

I’m lucky enough to have a wonderful father, but after hearing how horrible Dalton’s dad really is makes me wonder just how many people have dads that are like this. I know that’s not Trevor’s fault, and if anything, I should support him even more, knowing there’s nothing he can do about it.

I smile, trying to change his mood. “Okay, let’s go meet your friends so we can prove them wrong.”

He gives me a quick kiss. “That’s my girl. Making me happier already.”

I slide out of the truck on his side and relish in the proud grin he gives me before walking over to his friends.

“What’s up, Trev?” Nick, a guy I recognize from the first night I met Trevor says. “You finally got her to come to our side of the tracks?”

“Sure did.” Trevor puts his arm around me. “This is my girl, Maya.”

I wave. “Hi.”

He introduces me to a group of about ten people—some obviously paired up as couples, others just hanging out. The girls are dressed super cute in their skinny jeans and cowboy boots. I look down at my flats and wish I had thought more about what I should wear. I knew Trevor dressed a little different from the guys in Leighton River, but I didn’t think about how the girls would too.

Thankfully, two of the girls hop off the tailgate and walk over to me.

“Hey, I’m Sara, and this is Lindsay. Want to get a drink?”

I glance at Trevor, and he nods his approval as he says, “Get me one too.”

We walk over to the back of the truck that is farthest from us, where they have a cooler sitting in the back.

“What do you want?” Sara asks.

I’m not sure what they have here, so I shrug. “What do you drink?”

“Don’t think we have anything fancy. It’s either Pabst Blue Ribbon beer or shots of bottom-shelf vodka,” she responds.

“I’ll take a beer.”

She hands me two, one for me and one for Trevor, and she eyes my jeans. “Are those Sevens?”

I glance down at the jeans I had to go to Billings to buy since they don’t carry them anywhere near Leighton River.

“Yep, they’re the best jeans ever, don’t you agree?”

She leans back and takes me in. “You really are a rich girl, aren’t you?”

“Um, what?” I ask, confused.

“Trevor kept talking about how he bagged himself a TimeLand chic. I didn’t believe him, but”—she holds out her hand at me—“here you are, in the flesh, in your hundred-fifty-dollar jeans.”

I’ve never thought about how expensive my pants are or had anyone point them out for that reason.

I’m not sure how to respond when Lindsay laces her hand through my arm and leads me back to the group. “Hey, don’t mind her. She’s just jealous that her jeans come from the thrift store.”

I give her a nervous grin as we walk back to the group with Sara right behind us.

I hand the beer I got for Trevor to him, and we both pop the top on our drinks and take a sip. He places his arm around me as we lean against the truck, and I listen to his friends talk about school, their jobs, and what they have to work on this weekend.

It’s interesting, listening to the difference of the way they talk about their jobs or work they do on their own farms, versus the group I hang with. I don’t know anyone my age who has a job, yet every person here will be working at their job all weekend.

“So, you are real?” one of the guys asks me.

“Yes, asshole. Of course she’s real,” Trevor responds.

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