How We Were | ✔️ (Complete)

28. Buck Reynolds

But Amber shook her head, her limp brown hair hanging listlessly around her face. Surprise, surprise, no mom. Amber's attention returned to the truck.

Please stop looking over there, please stop looking over there...

Amber and I were the same age but she didn't go to school. Canyon High didn't have a special education class, and she had the learning disabilities that accompanied Down's Syndrome. Supposedly, she was being home schooled, but knowing what I knew about Buck, I highly doubted she was getting any kind of education at all. Amber was just okay, kind of rude sometimes, and I didn't think she particularly liked me.

"Amber! Get your lazy ass back in here and wrap this shit up like I done told you!"

Fuck.

Buck's silhouette appeared in the doorway, blocking out most of the light. He was a giant of a man, six and a half feet tall and built like a lumberjack. And handsome too, I guess, if you liked the type.

He wore dirty jeans, tan work boots and a stained AC/DC beater, his greasy hair hanging loosely around his shoulders. As always, he had a can of Budweiser gripped in his fist and a cigarette dangling from his lips. Buck liked to call himself a musician but mostly he cooked and dealt Meth.

"Don't you talk to her like that Buck," I said.

"That you Layla?" he bellowed, squinting into the darkness. Drunk off his ass. What else was new? He turned sideways and came down the stairs, the flimsy metal creaking under his weight.

Behind me, Jake got out of the car and rounded it and leaned casually against the truck bed, positioning himself to run interference if necessary. I could feel the frustration seething from his pores.

I squeezed my eyes shut, headache building fast. I could handle Buck Reynolds, that wasn't the problem. It was just that it was all so trashy. Grown men yelling at me in the dead of the night, garbage bags full of our stuff being dragged out of the trailer and loaded haphazardly to the back Buck's beat-to-hell pickup... Boys with cigarettes who weren't at all surprised and knew the drill well enough to prepare to rush drunken stepfathers-to-be hassling their young teenage daughters. I was so sick of it. I just wanted out.

But  forced myself to focus on the situation - no time or need for this to escalate.

Buck glanced at Jake, then spoke to me. "I thought you were screwing the Bishop boy."

"I'm not screwing anybody," I snapped. "Not that it's any of your business."

Buck held the back of his hand against his mouth and belched. "I'm about to become your daddy, so it is absolutely my business." He laughed heartily. "Well? What are you waiting for Princess? Get your ass in the house and help Amber pack."

"Pack for what?"

"Brandy and me decided y'all are gonna move in earlier than we planned. We're fixin' to sell the trailer so we can pay for some er... plumbing repairs at the house."

No. No no no no no. I felt so nauseous and overwhelmed that I was surprised I was still standing. A million questions and excuses flew through my head but I chose the most pressing one. "When? I mean, when are we going to move?"

"Now's as good a time as any."

I shook my head desperately. "I can't do it right now."

Buck took a sip of his beer and looked at me with blood shot, but still-shrewd eyes. Despite his life choices, he wasn't a stupid man. "I s'pose you can pay Amber a couple of dollars to get your shit together for you."