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“You both stop right now!” Mom ordered, and we did. We were standing side by side with our heads bowed. Covered head to toe in mud.
“What do you have to say for yourself, young lady?” her mom asked, now standing in front of us.
Harley shrugged, not looking up. “At least we didn’t take the shirt off.”
I nodded. She was right. I don’t know how it was still on us, but it was. Hanging by a thread.
“Jackson, go get cleaned up,” Mom demanded in the tone that meant I was screwed. “You have five minutes to get in the car, and we’re going home. You have sufficiently ruined everyone’s day.”
“Sorry,” I grumbled.
“No, you’re not sorry. That’s the worst part.”
“I’m sorry for ruining your day, not for her.”
“Enough. You say one more word and your father will be getting involved. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I stepped out of the shirt and did as I was told. Not waiting another second, or who knew how much more trouble I’d be in, and I wasn’t willing to find out.
Before Harley could say anything else out of her loud, stupid mouth, I left. Making my way over to the side of the clubhouse, out of sight.
I grabbed the hose and started washing myself off when I heard, “Got your ass handed to ya by a girl. How’s that feel, football star?”
My eyes snapped to Cash. My anger grew as soon as I heard his voice. Harley, I could handle. Cash was another story. We hated each other, but in a much different way than her and I.
Something about him pissed me off. I didn’t know what it was, but it was there every time I saw him and Harley together. Which was a lot. They were attached at the hip.
The way they were together…
The way he defended her…
The way he played his guitar and sang her his stupid songs while she danced around…
The way…
The way…
The way…
Everything about their friendship was annoying. He thought he was better than me because his best friend was a girl. Harley wasn’t even a pretty girl. She looked like a piñata exploded half the time. I had older girls who wanted me—cheerleaders.
All he had was Harley.
I smiled. “Not any different than her having you wrapped around her little finger, boy toy. Why don’t you go running back to Harley, Cash? You can clean all the mud off her since she owns your nuts.”
“Says the guy whose nuts she just kicked.”
“Cash!” Shiloh hollered, bringing our attention over to her. “His mom is coming this way! You’re going to get in trouble!”
“Better listen, Cash, or else they’ll take away your guitar again, and then how will you bore everyone with your no talent?”
“I guess the same way you do at your football games.”
“I’m the MVP, dickwad. Without me, they can’t even play.”
“Keep tellin’ yourself that, Jackson. Since football is the only thing you got goin’ for ya.”
