Page 10 of Play For Me

“It’s not even noon,” Red says, slipping an arm around her shoulders. “You can wait an hour.”

He leads us out to the covered back porch, which provides a fantastic view of the ranch stretched out before us. Familiar dusty, sunbaked swaths of land, weathered out-buildings, and horse paddocks are all framed by the rolling tan hills in the distance.

Red hands out beers from a cooler by the door and we all collapse into the weather-worn but still comfortable rocking chairs, the dogs settling at our feet.

I sit in silence while the three of them catch up, taking in the familiar view before me, allowing it to soothe the remnants of agitation I’ve been carrying around all weekend.

Coming here had been the right choice. But then, it almost always is.

My parents sent me to the ranch every summer from the time I was a toddler until I turned fifteen. That was the year they finally stopped bothering to pretend they wanted me around the rest of the time and decided I should just stay here. It’s no coincidence that my last three years of high school had been the most peaceful time of my childhood or adolescence.

I’d been tempted to stay here after graduation and commute to the closest community college, but Red wouldn’t hear of it. And with Em and Jay choosing the university in LA, it’d been an easier choice than I expected. Still terrifying, for so many reasons, but doable. And having the ranch close enough to visit every weekend if I wanted helped.

Red nudges my foot with the side of his dusty boot, signaling me back to the conversation. “How’d last week go for you? Youmeet with your advisor?” he asks, and I can feel his eyes studying my face behind his aviators. I force myself not to shift with discomfort.

I don’t really like being looked at like that. Can’t help but feel like the person is studying me for flaws. But this is Red. And he’s the safest person I know.

“The meeting went pretty good,” I tell him. It’s a struggle to keep my fingers from shredding the label of my beer bottle, to block the urge to fidget. “We talked about my clinical rotation. This semester will be pretty different from the last three years.”

Though starting my fourth year technically makes me a senior, I’m enrolled in a five-year master’s program—an accelerated course of study designed for students to earn both a bachelor’s in kinesiology and master’s in athletic training in five years, instead of the usual six. This semester starts the beginning of a much more hands-on type of education than I’m used to.

“Have you gotten your assignment for the clinicals yet?” he asks.

I shift in my seat before I can force myself to still. Red notices, I’m sure. He always notices.

“We get assignments next week,” I tell him, careful to keep my voice steady.

It’s stupid, trying this hard to look unaffected. Every person on this porch knows how nervous I am.

“It will be fine,” Em says. “You’re gonna do great.”

“Totally,” Jay agrees. “You got this.”

I search their tone for doubt, for concern, but don’t find any. Red nudges my foot again, his own silent encouragement, then changes the subject to Em’s first year of grad school. I blow out a breath, happy to have the attention off me, and go back to peeling my label.

“How about you, Red?” I ask once there’s a lull in the conversation. “Anything new on the ranch?”

“We just sent a couple mares off to the livestock show up in Tehachapi,” he says before draining the rest of his beer. “Oh, and Michaela Jordan had her babies this week.”

Many years ago, as a birthday present, Red had stupidly granted Jay naming rights when he first bought some goats for the ranch. Which means that now, every goat on this property has a ridiculous name—Goatzart, Bleateljuice, Vincent Van Goat. There are several named after Jay’s favorite athletes—the G.O.A.T. in their sports, if you will. Hence Michaela Jordan.

“What?!” Em shrieks, standing up. “There are goat babies on this property and this is the first I’m hearing about it?”

Red shrugs, like it’s no big deal, but the tilt at the corner of his lips gives him away. He knew exactly how Em would react and he’s been saving this news.

“Well let’s go!” she cries, already running down the porch steps.

Red and I stand to follow her. “You coming?” I ask Jay.

He sighs before standing. “Guess I may as well. Nothing better to do.” But he can’t hide his hurried steps and I know he’s every bit as excited as his sister.

We spend the next half hour with the animals. The baby goats are really freaking cute, and Em and Jay are basically in heaven, letting them climb all over their laps and lick their faces. Since we’re in the barn, we head over to the horse stalls to visit before returning to the house to wash up for lunch.

“Fuck me, this is good,” Jay moans after taking a bite of his first taco, and Em leans over to smack the back of his head before Red can do it. “I’m sorry! You can’t feed me food like this and expect me to keep it PG!”

“In his defense,” I say, already reaching for my second taco. “Thisisreally fucking good.”

Red shakes his head at me, but his lips are twitching.