Page 53 of The Last Thing You Said

And then.

And then he shattered me.

I shake my head.

“He hurt you,” Hannah says. She doesn’t push. “Oh, hon, you are so gone on that boy.”

I sigh and set my cup on the end table next to the sofa. “Ben isn’t going to happen. That’s just the way it is. And besides, I have a boyfriend, remember? Simon?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” She pauses, then says, “You know what you need? You need to get away from this place.”

“I just got back.”

She huffs. “Let me rephrase that. You need to get away from Ben. You need a rodeo.”

“A rodeo?”

“Is there an echo in here? Damn right, a rodeo. Nothing cheers me up like seeing a hot cowboy with something firm and sturdy between his legs.”

I roll my eyes. “I hate to break it to you, but the last time I checked, there’s no rodeo in Halcyon Lake.”

“Babe, it’s rodeo season in South Dakota. The Stampede is next weekend!” She squeals.

“The Stampede?”

“Are you for real? You’ve never heard of the Corn Palace Stampede? Oh, you are in for the time of your life.”

“Hannah, I can’t go to South Dakota.”

“Yes, you can. My cousin can hook us up with tickets, and we can stay at the campground. This is perfect. Just what you need!”

I shake my head. “My parents will never let me go.”

“Sure they will! We’ll get Dustin to drive us. And we’ll invite your boy Simon—your mom and dad like him, right? With two strong men to protect us, how can your parents say no?”

“Do you honestly think they’ll let me go to South Dakota with you and two guys we barely know?”

“It’s worth a shot, isn’t it?” She grins.

When Hannah gets an idea in her head, especially a crazy one like this, there’s no stopping her. I only knew her a few weeks when she convinced me that the best place to watch the Homecoming game was from the platform of the old water tower, even though she knew I was afraid of heights. She was right, and we had a great night until it was time to come down and I could hardly move. I was so terrified, dizzy.

“Isn’t it?” she says again.

I’m exhausted. She sets her empty cup on the end table and sits on the sofa next to me. She loops her arm through mine and reaches for the remote.

“Let’s watch a movie. It will take your mind off things.” She flips through the channels until she finds an old Meg Ryan movie with a happy ending. “This will cheer you up, I promise.”

My heart swells with love for her. We’ve only been friends since the beginning of the school year, but I love her. She’s not Trixie—I will never have another friend like Trixie—but she’s Hannah, and she’s unique and loud and crass and she cares about my broken heart.

“Thanks,” I whisper. “For everything.”

She squeezes my arm. “Anything for you, Lucille.”

29 · Ben

You’ve got to be kidding.

I’ve been lucky this summer, except for that one time, that Lucy hasn’t been at the Full Loon on Monday nights.