Page 42 of Heartland
The crunch of those pebbles announces my presence. I'm just about to say something when the whistling breaks off. Two hands reach from the open door, seize my hips, and pull me inside. I let out a gasp of surprise as my back hits the wooden planks. Then Dylan’s mouth descends toward my open one.
Oh! My gaze locks with his.
His eyes widen immediately, but it’s too late. The kiss is like jumping off the Quechee bridge into the river. Once your feet leave the edge, you’re going into the water whether you’ve come to your senses or not.
And so we jump. Together.
Dylan’s firm lips collide sweetly with mine. I taste toasted marshmallows and whiskey as our breath mingles. My reaction is swift and fierce; my hands grip his shirt, and my tongue melts against his.
He makes an eager grunt, and I feel it rumble through my chest. His lips press and kiss, and then they do it again.
Dylan Shipley is kissing me.Reallykissing me. His tongue strokes mine, and his body presses me against the wall.
My knees are Jell-O, and I don’t ever need to breathe again. I’ll just stay right here, thanks, while Dylan takes second and third helpings of my eager mouth.
Everything is total bliss for at least thirty seconds, until a loudpopstartles us both.
Dylan jerks back, as if it were the firing squad coming for him. A half-second later, I recognize the sound as the first firework splitting the night sky. But the damage is done. Dylan takes a staggered step backward, chest heaving. He lifts the back of his hand to his mouth, as if sealing it off.
“Sorry,” I say as a reflex. And then I immediately want to kick myself. Because I amsonot sorry.
“No!” he stammers. “I…” He takes another step back. And another firework pops into the sky. “Shit.I’msorry. That was—” He drops his hand and stares at me. “I thought Debbie was coming back here.” Even as those awful words fall out of his mouth, he flinches. “I’m really drunk right now. Really. A lot. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Okay,” I croak, my heart breaking. “Don’t worry about it. I came back here to tell you that Debbie wasn’t coming. She went home.”
“Really?” He reaches out a hand, finding the stone wall of the bunkhouse. He leans against it, as if propping himself up. “Shepunkedme? I shoulda seen that coming.” Then he drops his heavy head and laughs. “Fuck me. I’m such a wreck.”
I would happily fuck you, I think as another firework explodes. Dylan looks up at the sky. “Hey, Dad! We’re lighting a bunch of shit on fire for you! How about that? I’m sorry I wasn’t in the goddamn tractor shed when I said I would be. But have some fireworks instead.”
“Dylan,” I gasp.
“What? I can’t tell the truth? On the day he died, he wanted my help taking a tire off the tractor. I didn’t show up. Then he died.”
“It’s just a tire,” I say. “He would have forgiven you.”
He leans heavily against the stone wall, his chin tilted up toward the night sky. “You know how much a tractor tire weighs? Four hundred pounds. He wrestled it off himself. Somehow he got it off and leaned it against the wall. And then he had a massive, fatal heart attack on the ground next to it.”
My next breath is a sob. “Dylan.” I try to say his name, but my voice cracks, and I swallow hard.
“I’m shit company tonight,” he grinds out. “Total shit. I’m sorry.”
And before I can think of what to say, he stomps past me and out into the night. The door wobbles on its hinges after him.
Another firework goes off over my head, and I blink tears from my eyes.
Fourteen
Freshman Composition
Section Four
Title: Heat and Patience
Author: Chastity Campbell
A friendand I have a small business together making goat's milk caramels. A very small business. He has a surplus of goat's milk to use up, and after doing a bit of research I decided that anyone can make caramels.
A few YouTube videos later, I had a recipe I was ready to try.
