Farm Girl Meets Bad Boy (#1)

Chapter Seven

“Thanks so much for dinner, Mrs. Snow!” Mary calls over her shoulder, as Emery and I trudge towards the road.

“No problem, Mary!” Dad waves from the door, and we head down the long dirt road. Around us are wheat fields, grass fields and other crops that are growing. There’s no sound other than the sound of our feet as we kick stones up on the long walk to Mary’s.

Mary was the closest neighbour I had, and it would take a forty minute walk minimum to get to her house. By the time Emery and I would be on our way home, the summer sun would be setting.

“We should go out Friday night,” suggests Mary, smiling in the sunlight. She walks on my right, and Emery keeps his distance on my left, as he smokes a cigarette.

“Go out where?” We always went out on Friday nights, but it was always to Springdale, and there wasn’t much to do there. An hour away from Springdale, which means two hours away from my house, is a small city called Redwood Valley. There was more to do there, but I wasn’t allowed to drive that far, and the last time Mary borrowed her dad’s pickup truck, it didn’t go over well.

“Somewhere in Redwood,” Mary meets my gaze, and rolls her eyes. “River, come on. I’m not that bad of a driver, and I didn’t meet to it that mailbox!” Emery laughs at us, and I can’t help but giggle too.

“It wasn’t just a mailbox,” I retort. “You also hit that pole that was behind the mailbox.”

Mary smacks my arm playfully, pretending to be offended, although she knows I’m right. “Well, I’ve gotten better.”

I roll my eyes. “Better enough that you know for sure that your dad will let you borrow his new truck?”

Mary blushes, and I nudge her with my shoulder. “We’ll see. Anyways, where do you want to go?”

I stare up at the cloudy blue sky. Above us, the fluffy white clouds looked non-threatening. But out to the east the sky was darkening, and a breeze had started to blow a few minutes ago.

“I don’t think there’s any new movies playing worth seeing,” I try to recall the one’s I had seen the other day on my lap top, which is now lying broken in a recycling bin. “What about laser tag?”

Mary grins, and gives me a high five. “Awesome!”

Emery grunts, annoyed. I raise my eyebrows at him and he shrugs. “Laser tag? Is that what you really do for fun around here?”

This time I shrug, and so does Mary. “There’s really nothing else.”

Emery laughs at us rudely, and takes a drag. When he exhales and walks through the smoke, he turns towards us. “Nothing else that you can think of,” he smirks.

“Oh really,” I stare at the darkening clouds. “What else is there we can go out and do?”

A cunning smile plays across his lips. “Let me show you on Friday night.”

I look to Mary, and she shrugs. “What do we have to lose?” I could think of a million things, and one of them would be our lives.

“I’m driving,” Emery looks smug, as I try not to think of the negatives.

“Yeah, like Mary’s dad is going to let you drive his truck,” I roll my eyes. Who does he think he is? A prince?

“No,” laughs Emery. “But your dad is going to let me drive his.”

I bite my tongue, and don’t reply. As farfetched as it seemed, Emery was probably right. My dad was doing every possible thing he could do to make Emery happy in hopes that it will turn his life around.

“How old are you, anyways?” Mary asks curiously. She walks lazily beside me, staring at the long, open dirt road ahead of us.

I don’t expect Emery to answer. After all, he refused to tell me anything about his life. Well, I only asked about why he was a criminal and such, but still.

“Eighteen,” he tosses the burnt out cigarette in front of us, and I go out of my way to step on it in my shoes.

“How long are you staying at River’s farm for?” This question makes me raise my eyebrows. No one had mentioned the duration of his stay, and I hadn’t even thought about it myself.

“A few months, depending on how my court date goes next week.” He mumbles this like it’s nothing, and I’m still shocked that he’s telling us this. Well, mostly telling Mary. A crushing feeling surges around my heart, and I try to avoid it. There is no reason to be mad at Mary because Emery will talk to her. Then again, Emery’s done a complete one-eighty. Maybe I should ask a question.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

“What the fuck is this,” spits Emery, walking quickly ahead of us. “An interview?” My heart sinks, and I wonder if he would have given the same answer if Mary had asked. I hoped that he would and I mentally scold myself. This was not Mary’s fault in any way.

Mary and I mindlessly chatter the rest of the way to her house. Emery walks a few paces ahead of us, pretending not to listen as he chain smokes, but I know he’s paying attention. I’m curious as to when his stash of cigarettes will run out.

“Thanks for walking me home!” Mary waves from the half open door of the wooden farmhouse. The wood is rotting, but it doesn’t look bad. More of unique, in an antique kind of way. Behind it, is a fenced field will cows roaming and mooing.

I wave back, and turn around on the road. Emery follows beside me, and for a few minutes we walk in silence. He fidgets with his lighter, sometimes just flicking it creating a spark, other times twirling it between his fingers.

“Blue,” he murmurs, all of a sudden.

“What?” My head shoots up, surprised. Had he been talking to me this whole time, and I was too lost in my thoughts to hear?

“My favourite colour,” he says, meeting my eyes. “Is blue.”