Page 9 of Your Love

What I do know is that leaving her behind will be nearly impossible. My parents constantly remind me not to base my future decisions on my sister. They tell me often that I have my own life to live. While I understand that logically, it isn’t easy to wrap my mind around it. Who will comfort Paisley when she has nightmares? Where will she turn to if I’m not here?

As the night settles in, I come to terms with the fact that the answers to my questions will not be found this evening. My body aches from exhaustion, and my mind is weary from endlessly racing thoughts. I cross my arms over my chest and lean back into the worn chair. Maybe tomorrow will bring some much-needed clarity to my mounting uncertainties.

I shut my locker before the first period as Taz greets me with a familiar nickname. “What’s up, Chewbacca?” he says with a grin. Not this shit again. I mean, I get it. I’m a big guy, and I have some hair on my chest, but Taz is relentless with it.

I sigh, already annoyed. “I’m not loving that nickname, Dude,” I reply matter-of-factly. “You can call me Landry like everyone else.”

Taz shrugs, undeterred. “But you’re big and hairy. It fits.”

I resist the urge to check him into a row of lockers. It’s not even eight in the morning, and I’m already tired. I spent most of the night trying to get comfortable in a chair I outgrew about three years ago, so I didn’t get much sleep. “Taz, just because your face is as soft as a baby’s ass doesn’t mean the rest of us share the same problem.”

He laughs off my comment casually like he always does. As Sascha approaches, her expression is twisted into a familiar scowl, warning everyone away from her. She puts on a scary facade, but she’s a big softy underneath and easily one of the most interesting people I know. We’ve been friends since middle school, and she hasn’t changed one bit since then—still stomping through the hallways in her Doc Martens, ready to kick ass.

“Hey, Sash,” I greet her warmly as we pass.

“Hi, Landry,” she responds, her tone softening.

“Ass face,” she quips at Taz, who grins in response.

“Hag,” he retorts playfully before we all continue walking as if this exchange is totally normal.

To everyone else, Sascha and Taz may act like enemies, but I know there’s something else there. They try to hide it, but we all know what’s going on. One of these days, maybe they’ll realize it and actually do something about it. I only hope I’m nowhere around when it does.

Love is cool if you can find it. This world is difficult enough without trying to do it alone—that much, I know. I haven’t had a girlfriend since sophomore year, and that was short-lived, but I can admit I miss it. Not that I have a lot of time, and our senior year is almost over, but it would be great to have someone to spend these last few months with.

I tried to talk to Ivy at the beginning of the year when she was new and hadn’t met anyone yet. She shot me down, which is for the best since she and Delzy have found something special together. I envy them a bit, but there’s no one around here for me, so in the meantime, I focus on everything else. Of course, I keep these sentiments hidden from my friends. It’s not exactly a topic of conversation during hockey intermissions with the guys.

I enter the classroom, hoping to avoid being called on today. Last night, between Paisley needing me and that stupid questionnaire, I fell asleep before I finished the assigned reading. Honors English is one of the few classes I don’t share with anyone in my friend group, and it’s a nice break from having to talk to anyone.

As I step inside, I freeze in my tracks for a second to contemplate ditching this class, and it causes the girl behind me to bump into my back. “Geez, Landry,” she laughs. “Move your fine ass.”

I shake my head and chuckle before continuing into the classroom. I’ll do my best to hide today—a venture that never really works out for me due to my size. I decide to take a seat in the back of the classroom, both to stay out of sight and also because that’s where there’s the most room. Just like that old chair in my room, I outgrew the desks in this school when I was fourteen. At least in the back of the room, in a mostly empty row, I can sit to the side and stretch my legs out.

After grabbing my notebook and pencil, I lean back and wait for class to start. I tune out the sounds around me—gossip, laughter, and loud gum chewing swirl around the room. I’ve always had the ability to tune things out around me and hyper-focus on one thing. Sometimes, it’s a blessing—it makes me a great goaltender. But sometimes, like now, it’s a curse. I can’t stop thinking about the future. What’s the best decision for me? Do I stay here for a few years or head straight to college? Should I even try to keep playing hockey? What about Paisley? I’m so tired of feeling like I have to figure everything out alone.

Chapter 5

"Good"

Kerri - Age 18, 1988

Ever since I stepped off the Greyhound bus, my grandparents have showered me with love and attention. They’ve gone out of their way to make me feel at home, making all of my favorite meals and helping me set up my new room exactly how I want it. I’m grateful for their kindness, and I think I made the right choice to come here. They needed me here as much as I needed to leave Texas.

Unfortunately, things haven’t been going well for the past several years in the American farming community. The economy has struggled as market rates fluctuate and interest rates increase, so many farms across the country—especially small ones—have taken a major blow. Many are facing bankruptcy and fighting to stay afloat. Papa and Nana’s farm has not been spared from this hardship.

After years of fighting to keep their land and crops profitable, they made the difficult decision to scale back their harvest and shift their focus to a new venture—rescuing unwanted animals facing euthanasia. They have enough money to live comfortably, so this is their way of making a positive contribution to the community they love so much.

When they first told me about this new direction, I was curious and excited, and that excitement only grew when I was taken on a grand tour of the farm and introduced to every creature that called it home. From the friendly cows and curious pigs to the chatty chickens and quirky goats, I hit it off with each one of them. Among my favorites are Vincent Van Goat, a lovable but slightly lopsided goat with only one ear, and Colonel Cocky, a proud and boisterous rooster who always makes his presence known. My heart swells with a sense of compassion and understanding for these outcasts.

My grandparents are always amazed at my innate connection with animals, but for me, it’s just a part of who I am. Growing up in a world filled with furry and feathered friends, I find it much easier to communicate with them than with most humans. I’ve definitely grown to trust them more than most people.

As the days have passed, there has been a gentle settling in, me getting to know this place and my grandparents getting to know me as an adult, not just a small girl who would spend one week at a time with them when I was younger. As the moments pass, they are filled with warmth and ease, as if I were always meant to come here.

Despite our dwindling production, my grandparents never miss a chance to visit the quaint local farmers market on Sundays. Today, I’m going with Papa to set up our stand from the back of his dusty pick-up truck. Our offerings may be limited, but each product is carefully displayed and presented with pride.

We have a variety of farm-fresh eggs, creamy goat cheese, rich milk, and vibrant wildflowers I wrapped in butcher paper and tied with rustic brown twine. The sweet scent of fresh produce fills the air, mingling with the chatter of fellow vendors and eager shoppers.

With my back towards the crowd, I rummage through the remaining items in the bed of the pickup truck to be set on the fold-out table. The sound of crinkling paper catches my attention, and I turn to see a young girl, no more than ten or eleven years old, delicately holding one of the bouquets up to her nose. Her eyes light up as she takes in the sweet scent of the flowers.