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Ruth smiled and followed him back to the front of the store.
Twenty minutes later we’d stopped by Juniper’s Hair and Nails and picked up Ruth’s friend Olivia, along with Ruth introducing me to every single woman in the shop. This included Juniper herself, an older woman with snow-white corkscrew curly hair down to her shoulders that went out in all directions. She wore a bright turquoise tunic-dress and sandals.
Juniper had taken one look at my hair and declared that I just had to come in for a cut and color.
I’d thanked her and looked to Ruth for rescue. She’d obliged and gotten us out of there, which had still taken another ten minutes between all the women saying extended goodbyes.
Now we were in one of the two restaurants in town—Alejandro’s Bar and Grill, and Ruth was treating us to fajitas and she and Olivia were downing big pink margaritas like they were water.
“You shoulda seen him,” Ruth cackled. “Trent was all, you can’t survive without my daddy’s money. And Sam was like, fuck off, little boy.”
“He did not!” Olivia slammed the table, pink margarita sloshing over the edge of her glass and onto her bright, sparkly jeweled nails. “Oh shit,” she laughed and sucked the margarita slushy mix off.
Olivia had definitely embraced the colorful spirit of her mentor, Juniper. She had bright pink hair and a peacock tattoo that took up the entirety of her left arm. She would have fit right in back in San Francisco. In the middle of Central Texas? Not so much. From my whole ten minutes of exposure to her, she seemed fabulous. Bubbly and expressive in a way I’d only ever dreamed of being.
“Okay, okay, he didn’t exactly say it like that,” Ruth admitted. “But he still put that little bastard in his place and it was classic. And you know the gossip mill in this town. Mariah Jones was in there, so you know the story will be everywhere by Sunday afternoon after church.”
Olivia’s eyes went wide, then she laughed even harder. “Oh damn, Mariah was there. That’s hilarious. Her sister was always so jealous of you, remember?”
“Dear God, don’t remind me.”
“I can’t believe you actually dated that douche bag.”
“I said don’t remind me, I’m trying to eat here!” Ruth said as she shoveled fajita mixings into a tortilla.
“How did that even happen? Was he a lot different back in high school?” I asked. They both looked at me, like they were shocked I’d actually said something. Which made me feel like maybe I shouldn’t have. I was an outsider, and just because they were talking so freely in front of me, God, it was stupid to think that they—
“Sorry,” I said, grabbing for my water. “I didn’t mean to pry. You don’t have to say.” I waved my hand and took a big drink, wanting to disappear. I hadn’t been out with actual humans in society in a long while and I was terrible at this.
But Ruth reached out and put a hand on my arm as if she could feel my embarrassment. “No, it’s cool. It’s just weird for someone not to know my entire history from the time I was a baby. Refreshing, actually.”
“Seriously, you don’t have to say. Forget I said anything.”
“Stop it,” she said. “It’s a totally valid question. Especially since no, Trent was always an asshole.”
“I tried to tell her at the time,” Olivia cut in, shoving a big, messy bite of fajita in her mouth.
Ruth rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, and I didn’t listen. I was really naïve and wanted to believe the best about everybody. I was like, just because he’s the town’s football star quarterback doesn’t automatically mean he’s gonna be a douchebag—”
“Except when it does,” Olivia coughed into her hand.
“Yeah, yeah. I mean, this town is really cliché Texas. You’ll see in the fall. They treat the football team like they’re gods.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to say I wouldn’t still be here in the fall, but I kept quiet so she could keep telling her story.
“We almost went to state in our division the year Trent was a junior and the town still talks about it. And his dad and my dad owned two of the biggest ranches in the county, and they share a border too. So almost as soon as we were born within a few months of each other, the whole town had talked about how we’d grow up and get married and unite the two ranches into one mega-ranch.”
“That’s so messed up,” I said.
She laughed. “Exactly. I was totally outraged by the idea as a little girl. I was gonna grow up and run my daddy’s ranch, not some boy, so I totally ignored him. But then the older I got Dad kept talking about how I’d need to get married so he could have another man around to work the ranch after he was gone.”
