Page 11

Not a single one of the men I fooled around with has stuck in my head like Jamie Iron, bigshot agent and country music guru. If I’d known he’d still be rattling around in my brain a year later, I would have told him to get out when he propositioned me. Was it the best sex I’ll ever have? Probably. But was it worth all the tossing and turning? The way it threw everything a little off-kilter?

No, definitely not.

At least, I tell myself that.

Wincing at the memories, I fix my gaze on the mountains in the distance. Today, everything seems the same. The cows low in the west field. The wranglers are hemming and hawing at the back barn, standing in circles with their chew and opinions they’ve mowed around a few times before.

The only thing that’s different: Jamie Iron is coming back.

All through the year, I thought about him, and it made me mad as hell. He appeared with his stupid face and his obnoxiously hot mustache, and the dullness inside me disappeared. Those few nights were like a dream, something that happens to other people, but never to me.

He was real, warm skin and a heartbeat that slowed mine down. And a mouth, hands, and body that sped it back up.

Then, he was gone, and I spent an entire year watching my sister get her happily ever after, and wondering if it would ever happen for me. I’m overjoyed for Sabrina and Coen, they deserve it. When Dad left for Portland, the entire dynamic changed. The ranch house wasn’t a family unit anymore. It became the house of a happy couple, and I turned into the third wheel.

Tonight, they’re in town, at dinner. I sit on the top porch step with my Gibson guitar in my lap, my chin resting on it.

Everything is so beautiful out here in rural Wyoming.

But I’m so empty, and I don’t know why.

I’m twenty-three years old now, and I’ve never left this place other than to visit Mom and her husband, Hugh, in New York. We spent Christmas there, all three of us, last year. When I hugged Mom goodbye, she asked if I wanted to come up for the summer. I said I’d think about it, and she said, “Anytime, call me, and I’ll book the flight.” I haven’t called.

I don’t know why.

My lashes are wet. I sniff, wiping my nose.

The ranch is so quiet tonight. Tomorrow, Jamie will be here with his huge…personality, filling up the room, and reminding me that once again, I didn’t fit into someone’s life. And I can’t even complain because I knew it was a hookup. I told him it was a hookup, and I never wanted to see him again because he annoyed me. I flipped my hair over my shoulder and didn’t look back when he left the ranch.

And then I got sad.

And sadder.

My fingers thrum lightly over my guitar. I’ve never been able to shake this feeling in my chest when it’s me, lost in my thoughts. A hollowness. A yearning for something indescribable, like wanting to be on the other side of the horizon.

I’ve always thought it was silly. I don’t have any reason to think I could leave the ranch. Unless it’s to visit Mom. Sniffing, I stop plucking at the strings and swipe beneath my eye. All at once, the weight of the entire year crashes over me like a wave. I’m being stifled. My chest expands, lungs heaving. My head spins.

It’s been a while since I had a panic attack. Abruptly, I stand, holding my guitar by its neck, and push through the door, running up the stairs to my room. My phone is on the bedside table. It takes a couple tries to dial Mom’s number, but I get it in the end.

Calm down, Serena. You’re going to worry her.

There’s nothing really wrong. I just need out, and I’m done trying to make this work. I need a break from the four walls of this room. Squeezing my eyes shut, I listen to the ring as it goes on and on.

Please pick up.

She does. Intense relief floods my body, and I open my eyes.

“Hey, honey,” she says. “What’s up?”

My brain tells me to backtrack. I can’t just walk out, or Sabrina’s going to be worried.

“Hey,” I say.

I glance up, and my eyes fix on the window. Down below is the same scene I’ve looked out over every day of my life. Suddenly, I’m not myself. I’m a doll in a dollhouse, sitting with stiff arms and legs, wondering what it would feel like to come to life. I don’t know who I am, and I’m already in my twenties. If I don’t change something, in ten years, I’ll still be a doll watching the sun go up and down.

Time will pass, anyway.

I swallow hard. One day, I’ll be gone. Everyone will be gone. All I have right now is being alive…and I haven’t been living.