3 for 1

Breakups, Barnyards, and Bad Decisions

It started with a breakup.

Aspen stormed out of Marissa's house with his hoodie half-zipped, eyes red, jaw clenched like he was chewing on broken glass. John and Maddox waited by the car parked across the street, exchanging that kind of look guys give each other when they don't know whether to be concerned or pretend they didn't see a damn thing.

"She dumped you?" Maddox asked, though he already knew the answer.

"No. I dumped her," Aspen snapped, yanking open the back door of Maddox's beat-up Camry. "She said I'm emotionally unavailable and 'secretly in love with someone else.'"

John went still.

Maddox whistled low. "Well. Damn."

John opened his mouth—then closed it. Because what the hell was he supposed to say to that? "I'm sorry," maybe? Or "She's wrong"? Or even "Actually, I think she might be a little bit psychic"?

Instead, he said, "Want fries?"

Aspen didn't answer. He just slumped into the back seat like he'd been shot and was bleeding out through pride alone.

Maddox started the car. "Fries it is."

They were three idiots driving into the edge of nowhere by midnight, the kind of road that had more cornfields than signs and just enough cell reception to make you think help might come before you die.

John sat in the passenger seat, chewing on his straw like it could distract him from the fire in his chest every time Aspen sighed. God, he'd been in love with Aspen since sophomore year. Since that time Aspen passed him a note in chemistry that said "You look like a cat who doesn't trust anyone," and John laughed so hard he snorted.

Maddox reached into the bag of fries between them and nudged John. "You good?"

"Hm? Yeah. Totally. Great."

Maddox gave him a look. John ignored it.

"Let's get weird," Aspen muttered from the back seat. "Let's do something. Anything. I need to not be sober or sane right now."

"You heard the man," Maddox said, swerving dramatically into a dirt road. "Let's get weird."

Ten minutes later, they were parked beside an old abandoned barn.

This was where everything went wrong.

The first red flag was the sound.

A low, wet snort from inside the barn. Not a normal snort, but the kind that sounded like a dying engine and a sneeze had a baby.

"Did you hear that?" John whispered.

"Probably just a pig or something," Maddox said confidently, holding a half-empty bottle of gas station whiskey. "Come on."

It wasn't a pig.

It was a cow—but not just any cow. A massive, lumpy beast that looked like it had been bred on steroids and hatred. Its eyes locked on them as they stepped inside.

Then there was her.

From the shadows stumbled a woman in a tattered bra, one shoe, and raccoon eyeliner from three days ago. She pointed at them with a spatula. "Y'all here for the wedding?"

"What the—" Aspen started.

"RUN!" Maddox screamed, because the cow had charged.

There's something about fear that bonds people. Especially when you're sprinting across a cornfield in the dark while being chased by 1,200 pounds of beef and a cracked-out woman shouting about flower arrangements.

John's lungs were on fire. Aspen was yelling something about how this was "exactly why I don't do spontaneous anymore!" and Maddox was wheezing, "I think I peed a little!"

They made it to the car.

They slammed the doors.

And then... they started yelling at each other.

"You're the one who said 'Let's get weird!'" Aspen shouted, pointing at Maddox.

"I was trying to cheer you up!"

"You took us to a haunted cow barn!"

"Don't blame him!" John snapped, surprising both of them. "You're the one who said you needed chaos. So congratulations—you got it."

"Why are you even here?" Aspen threw back. "You don't even like me."

The car went silent.

John's throat closed.

"I—don't like you?" he said slowly. "Is that what you think?"

Aspen stared at him. Maddox looked like he wanted to disappear into the upholstery.

"I like you so much it makes me feel sick," John said quietly. "I liked you before Marissa. I liked you before you even noticed me. And I came tonight because I always come when you call. Even if it means almost getting trampled by a hellcow and stabbed with a spatula."

Aspen looked like he'd been slapped.

Maddox cleared his throat. "Okay. Well. Since we're all oversharing—uh, I think I might love both of you."

John's head snapped around. "What?"

Aspen blinked. "What??"

Maddox threw his hands up. "I don't know, man! You're both hot and broken and I've been third-wheeling this emotional pining circus for like three years and I'm tired! So yeah. Maybe I love both of you. Sue me."

Silence.

Then Aspen let out a shaky laugh. "This night is insane."

John swallowed. "Yeah. It is."

Aspen looked at him. Looked at Maddox. His voice dropped. "But maybe... not the worst kind of insane."

He reached for both of their hands.

And the car was quiet, just for a second. Soft breathing. Fingers intertwined.

Outside, the cow mooed mournfully.

Inside, three boys sat tangled up in something wild, stupid
, and brand new.