Page 25 of The Lookback

Tommy has barrels set up in the middle for me to work on my barrel pattern before our next rodeo in three weeks, but we’ve got to get warmed up before I can work on those.

“At some point, you’ll have to actually bring in some calves,” I say. “They don’t give prizes for roping bales of hay.”

Tommy rolls his eyes and keeps right on swinging his rope around and around until it snags the hay bale. I’ve seen him in action, and I know that he can rope most anything from Ranger’s back. It’s actually a little distracting for me, always having to practice out here with him. I should be worrying about my pattern and my times, but I keep finding myself watching him.

I know he’s not interested in me. He made that really, really clear, but sometimes I forget, like right now, when he keeps glancing back at me, too.

And smiling.

I have caught him looking at Patrice a time or two, but sometimes I wonder whether he ever looks atmethe same way.

It’s stupid. I heard what he said. But people change sometimes. Their feelings change too, right? His feelings could have changed. Or he could like Patrice and just not want to talk to me about it.

Either way, right now, I have to focus on our run. Elvis has a tendency to clip barrels when I don’t hold him away from them well enough. It’s bad to knock one over, of course, but it also hurts like the devil sometimes, when my leg’s caught between him and the barrel.

I’ve just put down a really, really good one when I notice someone coming down the lane on a bike. Even squinting, I can barely make out who it is.

Denise Crane, our class president, drops her bike by the house and starts waving, so she clearly sees me and Tommy out here. His mom probably told her we were out back. Tommy and I walk our horses toward his back yard to keep her from having to hoof it all the way to us.

“Denise?” I ask. “You okay?”

She’s breathing heavily. “Girl, I have been riding all over town looking for you.”

“You have?” I frown. “Why?”

“Well, I went to your house first, anyway, and your mom said you’d be here.” She drops her hands on her knees. “Okay, so we tallied up the votes for prom prince and princess, and?—”

I groan.

“What?” Tommy asks. “What’s with the drama?”

“You rode all the way out to my place and then all the way here just to tell us something you could have told us tomorrow?” I really, really hope I didn’t win. There are only seventeen girls in our grade in school, so it’s not like a big prize. But if I won, then Ihave to go,and I’ve pretty much made up my mind to stay home.

“I guess you figured out that you won,” Denise says.

My sigh’s probably a little too pronounced. “You didn’t need to ride all the way out here?—”

“But I did,” Denise says. “See, for the guys, it was a tie, and you’re the only one who hasn’t voted.”

“You’re kidding,” I say.

She shakes her head, and then she says what I knew she was going to say from the start. “You have to pick which of them wins for prince: Jed or Tommy.”

8

HELEN

The day after my horrible dinner with Oliver, I head straight home.

HOW’D IT GO? David texts while I’m en route.

But I can’t stop thinking about David’s face as he tells that little girl he wants a dozen children of his own, just like her. FINE, I finally respond.

WHAT’S WRONG?

Why does he assume there’s something wrong? I often text him with short, even sometimes one-word replies. I’m not someone who gushes. I don’t overdramatize things. I’m not effusive. I’m a baby hater who sends short texts. He should know that about me. I’ve been honest about whoIam.

NOTHING, I finally reply.

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