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People had never ignored me, but they wished they could. They wished people like me would just disappear or fall off the face of the earth so they wouldn't be reminded their little lives were so fake and full of shit. As one guy about my age passed me, his attempt to ignore me faltered. Giving me a quick once-over, he shook his head and mouthed Yikes before he went on his Abercrombie-wearing, cheerleader-screwing way.
I was tempted to give his back the bird, but for once, I controlled myself.
Besides, that was nothing new. I lived that at least a dozen times a day back in the lowest form of purgatory known as high school.
I'd worn so many different labels I lost count. People liked to label things; it made them feel like the world made some sense. Like, if I was one thing, they were the other.
I guess that made people feel better about themselves. If they focused on how screwed up I was, they could pretend they weren't just as screwed up. I'd been labeled a goth, an emo, a druggie, a loser, and my personal favorite only because it showed just how ignorant people were: a freak.
I'd been called a million and a half other colorful names, but those were the most popular.
However, labeling me a goth or an emo was just an insult to actual goths and emos. I didn't want a label; I didn't want to fit into a certain crowd. I was who I was, wore what I wore, and did what I did because that was who I was.
Or at least the person I'd convinced myself I was. I wasn't overly mysterious like a goth or exceptionally sad like an emo. I'd done drugs, but I'd never wandered into first period stoned off my ass like the hardcore druggies. I wasn't sure "loser" fit either, since I was a conscientious objector to all things that made conventional "winners" and "losers" out of people.
So maybe out of all of those labels, the one that fit me best was freak. A few more people shuffled by, and their attempts and immediate failures to ignore me confirmed I did freak well. As I fell in line behind the second to last person, my belief that people basically blew went up a few conviction levels. Montana was bit warmer than Portland; that was the first thing I noticed as I stepped off the bus. The next thing?
It already smelled like cow shit. Not overwhelmingly so, but that pungent tinge was in the air, along with the sweet note of grass and the not-so-sweet note of a sucky summer to come.
I almost sighed. I came so close. But I didn't. I didn't sigh anymore. Sighing showed disappointment, but I didn't hope anymore. But I came pretty darn close when I examined the landscape. I'd been right. Wide open spaces, no building in sight taller than two floors, and nothing remotely resembled something I was familiar with. Apparently Montana and I were already off to a rocky start. Well, crap. I wasn't exactly a light packer, and sporting a black hoodie in the heat of a Montana summer day while attempting to haul my huge bag was my bad.
I didn't make it far before giving up my one-woman trek toward the parking lot. Tossing my beast of a bag on the ground, I plopped down on it. I couldn't tear out of that hoodie fast enough.
I was supposed to meet one of the ranch hands from Willow Springs in the parking lot. I couldn't remember his name, just that it began with a J and was one hundred and ten percent a cowboy name. I was supposed to link up with some total stranger, after driving across a couple state lines on a Greyhound bus.
Yeah, that was fucked up. Tilting my head back, I searched the sky, half expecting buzzards to be circling. Man, even the sky was different. Too big and too blue. Where I came from, the sky was gray on most days, and on the rare day the cloud cover did shift, the sky was never quite blue.
Almost as if it couldn't let go of the gray consuming it more days than not. I was just about to close my eyes for a quick siesta and let Mr. On a typical day, I was passed by hundreds, if not thousands of people. Passed by, passed over, passed something, so I don't know why that particular figure caught my attention. Leaning up, I shielded my eyes from the sun and watched the "figure" I couldn't ignore.
After a second, I understood why. The guy was wearing positively the tightest, most painted-on jeans I'd ever seen a guy slide into. And my generation thought guys sporting skinny jeans was socially acceptable.
However, that cowboy, in what I could only assume were a pair of faded Wranglers, had just secured the sash and crown in the Tightest Pants in the Universe title.
He waited for the employee to turn around and acknowledge him before continuing. Last passenger just got off a few minutes ago. My attention had nothing to do with ogling, lusting, or wanting to run my hands all over it. I just couldn't wrap my mind around how those stitches were holding strong with pants two sizes too small cupping those butt cheeks.
A girl about my age? Maybe a name? I don't know. I've only seen a picture of her that's ten years old. I didn't need to hear him say it.
I already knew the name scratched down on that scrap of paper. Her name's Rowen Sterling. When my mom had told me I'd get a ride to Willow Springs with a ranch hand whose name I'd forgotten, I pictured a scratching, spitting, old-timer like the town sheriff in one of those old westerns. Finished last night. Jersey and Ian will be in my head for awhile. Yes one of those reads that is so amazing but sooo painful too.
I had some things figured out but not the other!!
Oh my heart. Jewel E Ann never disappoints!! Unfortunately, her plans hit a snag when she finds her soon-to-be ex, Jacob, at the cottage too. Maybe all of them are wrong. I have to say wow! I finished it in a day. I was sucked in wanting to know what was going to happen next. So many unanswered questions through and a shocking jaw dropping ending. I have to wait until August until the next release.
Ashley just discovered this one!!
To take overher. His arms are welcoming, his body is addictive and his lips are heaven. Cole Huxley is everything I could fall in love with, except for one problem… I never wanted to fall for my professor From businessmen to baggage handlers, each conquest brings a whole new meaning to the term layover.
All the books are super-bargain priced!!
Outside, book 1 will go zero any minute.