Page 32 of Believe in Caloosa Springs

Grabbing a medium-sized pair of metal trimmers, I went over to the last row of plants and began trimming the buds. It took a good 10 or 15 minutes to figure out how to hold the trimmers and apply enough force to the handles to cut through the stems in a way that didn’t send burning pain shooting through my palms.

I got myself into a semi-comfortable rhythm and was about to move on to my second plant of the day when Jake came sauntering over. I bit down on the side of my lip, hoping whatever he was coming over to say would be quick.Why didn’t I put my headphones in before leaving the cabin?

“Feeling better, bud? We sure did miss you the past two days.”

His words were nice enough, but his tone was vile, mocking. When his question didn’t elicit a reaction, he continued on.

“You know, I think I was giving you too much credit. I thought since you were quiet and so serious looking all the time, you were like some brooding, no-nonsense country boy…”

I picked up the trimming shears and grabbed hold of the stalk of the next plant in line and started clipping up as close to the fluffy green buds as I could, letting them fall into the waiting bin below.

Just ignore him…

“But, now, it’s pretty obvious that’s just a fucking farce. You don’t even know the difference between poison oak and a fucking daisy. So, you’re clearly not a country boy… and, seeing as how you showed up to the bonfire with a dude, it makes a lot more sense.”

Dillon began to snicker across the room.

“You know,” I said between gritted teeth, “Sexuality has nothing to do with being a city boy or country boy. Or more masculine, or any of that other toxic shit.”

He didn’t seem to have a coherent response to my logic, so he just looked over at Dillon and laughed. “Sure. Whatever you say,Mary…”

My aim was a little off, causing my knuckles to connect with the side of Jake’s cheek instead of his nose, so I quickly followed it up with another blow from my left fist. Jake recovered quicker than I thought he would and sent a punch into the side of my ribs, making me momentarily wheeze, before I hit a knee to the floor to duck another throw. I came up hard, slamming into his torso, sending him stumbling backwards into a work table, and causing pots, soil, and hand tools to go flying to the concrete floor. The clang of metal and the crash of shattering clay were deafening.

“Enough!”

Whipping my head, I froze as I locked eyes with Tyler. He was standing in the entranceway. I glanced over at Jake to make sure he wasn’t coming at me again. Jake scraped the back of his sleeve across his bleeding nose.

“He attacked me!” he whined.

I scoffed, biting down on my lip as I tried to hide the pain radiating through my ribcage. Fucker punchedhard.I wasn’t the one bleeding all over the place, though. At least, not externally. I hadn’t been in a fistfight since middle school. All things considered, I think I did pretty well. With the look on Tyler’s face, I was positive I was about to be fired for it, but it was what it was. I didn’t have a rebuttal to Jake’s statement. Technically, he was right; I’d swung first.

Panic suddenly took hold, and all the events of the last few days seemed to come crashing down around me. I shook out my throbbing knuckles and turned tail, heading for the main door of the grow room.

What was I even doing in this crappy little town, anyway? Why had I left our planning entirely up to Henry? We could have ended up in a million different places doing a million different things. Henry had always been more logical, more apprehensive, moreconservativein every fashion. I had imagined leaving the planning up to him would have been a safe bet. Why here?

Why Caloosa Springs?

I was mad enough to spit as I stomped off across the property, my boots crunching a fresh layer of ice beneath my feet. The sky had opened up sometime in the middle of the night and let out the season’s first big snow. A sparkling sheen of white dusted the tops of the evergreen trees scattered along the outer edgeof the property, and the mountains in the distance had started accumulating their snowcaps that would remain throughout the winter.

I sucked in a haggard breath of icy air and wondered if the trembling in my fingers had been brought on by the blistering cold, or the adrenaline still pumping through my veins. I took in another breath, and pain exploded through the left side of my ribcage as my lungs expanded. I silently hoped that the bastard hadn’t broken one of my ribs. Being out of eyeshot from the grow room I’d just exited, I shook my hand out again. The cold was doing nothing for the throbbing in my knuckles.

I walked straight past my cabin. I had no clue where the fuck I was going, but the sudden urge to be off this property was stronger than my body’s painful urge to not be standing anymore. I carefully lowered myself into the driver’s seat of the car, wincing as a fresh pang of hot pain radiated through my rib cage. I took another slow breath in, trying to get as much air in my lungs as I could take.

I turned the key in the ignition…nothing.

I looked up to the car’s roofing and begged, I’m not sure to whom.

“Please!”

Turning the key again caused the lights on the dash to come on. One more time and the engine began to spit and sputter, but eventually turned over. With an audible sigh of relief, I put the car in gear and hit the gas. The back tires slipped a bit on the slick gravel, but managed to gain traction. Within a minute or so, I was pulling on to the main road. I fumbled my swelling fingers around the controls to turn the heater up as the car wasbeginning to warm. The heater had barely changed the internal temperature of the car by the time I pulled it to the curb just outside Cassie’s Diner, which seemed like the most logical place to stop. It would be warm inside, and I could have a cup of coffee while I figured out what the fuck I was going to do next. Staying here really didn’t seem to be an option at this point. I’d lost my job, and, by proxy, my place to live. There was only one person in this town I wanted to spend any time with at all, and he wasn’t speaking to me. Rightfully so, as I was an idiot.

I walked into the diner and almost moaned at the warm air inside encompassing me as the door swung closed in my wake. It was busy that morning, and most of the tables had been taken. I walked past the counter and slid into one of two empty booths set along the back wall.

Cameron walked by and smiled, a tray full of round, white plates held high on his shoulder.

“Coffee?” he asked.

I nodded, and he smiled, continuing on his quest three tables down.

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