Page 85 of Where I Should’ve Been

“I…” My throat feels tight. “I don’t have intentions.” I clear it, forcing calm into my tone. “I care about her, and she cares about me, and beyond that, I’d say it’s our own, very adult, consenting, private business, wouldn’t you?”

“No,” Bennett says with an edgy shake of his head. “I wouldn’t say that at all.”

I shrug. “We’re gonna have to agree to disagree, then.”

Bennett postures more aggressively now, and I brace myself to earn my own bag of peas.

“Bahh, bahh, bahh!” Autumn exclaims from her perch on the slide of her swing set.

I look up to find my flock making a beeline for all of us and promptly remember the whole reason I ended up at Bennett’s in the first place. Crosby, the bastard, is the ringleader heading the charge of fluffy terrorists toward us, and I guess I should be thankful that they managed to stay in the vicinity of the farm while I’ve been wrapped up over here for what feels like hours now.

All at once, my sheep choose Logan as their victim, surrounding him and circling him like gentle vultures.

Bennett and I back up, him scooping Autumn up and out of the way as she continues to make sheep noises, and Logan folds his arms up and to his chest as they get tighter and tighter around him.

“Yo, guys, you wanna do something about these sheep?”

“Not really,” I say, and Bennett actually laughs.

“What are they doing, Ted? Why are they circling me?”

I cup my hands around my mouth and yell. “Don’t worry! This is just their pre-attack ritual.”

“Pre-attack?” he questions nervously. “And what the hell does that mean?”

“It means when they get done with you, Bennett and I won’t have anything but each other to worry about.”

Bennett laughs, and it feels like a small breakthrough in the ball of tension we’ve both been wielding toward each other for years. I never cared that we didn’t particularly get along, but now that things with Breezy are the way they are, I don’t know…a civil relationship seems more important.

“You shut the hell up, Ted, and get these sheep away from me.”

I put a finger to my lips and whistle, and Crosby, Nash, Mackie, and Boris all peel off from the pack and head in my direction first.

“Bahhh! Sheep! Bahh!” Autumn cries excitedly, reaching down in an effort to pet them when they get close. I pull some feed from my pocket and toss it at the ground, and they all freeze up, heads down to get their fill.

“She can pet them,” I say to Bennett.

“Pet them?” Logan protests. “You just told me they were about to attack!”

I shrug. “Guess I lied.”

“Screw all this bullshit.” Exploding out of the circle of remaining sheep, Logan growls and storms over to his fancy Mercedes coupe, climbing inside and slamming the door. I expect him to start it up and pull away, but he reclines the seat instead, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Great. Guess he’s not leaving, then,” Bennett grumbles before sighing heavily.

“Well, don’t cry too hard. At least one of us is. And as a bonus, I’ll take the sheep with me.”

Bennett smirks and Autumn giggles, and for now, I take that as a sign of making strides.

Gone for now, but I’ll be back—just as soon as Breezy is too.

34

Breezy

Is this rock bottom?

I mean, that can be the only explanation for why I’m sitting in Norah’s SUV, clutching a plastic gas station bag like it contains nuclear codes instead of a pregnancy test.