Once Upon A Rodeo

16: Halloween

We sat side by side in the bed of Landon's truck. "So... what now?" I asked.

"Um-" he looked lost for words. "I honestly didn't plan this out too much. I just wanted to see you."

I looked up into his sincere and seductive blue eyes. I felt myself melt to his side and my hand intertwine with his. "Tell me somethin' that no one else knows," I whispered.

"Like a secret?"

"A secret, a dream, a hope, an aspersion, a fear, anythin'." He stayed still and silent.

Maybe I shouldn't have asked that. I'm going too fast. Ugh! I must have sounded like the crazy clingy girlfriend, when I'm none of those things. He's probably thinking about how he can escape right now. I'm such an idiot!

While I was beating myself up, I slowly withdrew from him.

"Where do you think you're goin'?" He pulled me back into him, wrapped both his arms around me, and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

"When I was seven years old, I was spending the weekend at my grandparents house. My grandpa was an architect, and in his study he had a whole bunch of blueprints and such. I used to sit and watch him design buildings all the time. One day I snuck inside his office, which I wasn't allowed in unless he was there, and started to play with his stuff. I was tryin' to refill the ink in one of his pens and it got a little messy." He unstrapped his watch from his wrist and held it out for me to examine. There was a rather large tan line from always wearing his watch, and in the center of the pale skin was a small splatter of blue ink. "I accidentally gave myself a permanent tattoo at only seven."

I laughed. "Oh no. What did your grandpa say?"

He smiled. "That's what makes it a secret. I never told or showed anyone before. After that day I always wore a watch over it."

"Wow," I breathed.

I ran my thumb over the offending mark on his wrist. I couldn't believe that I was the only one he ever trusted to show. And although it was just a small permanent stain, something about being the only person who knows feels extremely intimate.

"Your turn," he whispered into my hair.

"Hmm?"

"Tell me somethin' that no one else knows." He quoted me.

"I don't really want to go into the medical field." I sighed.

"Wait. What 'bout wantin' to go to Baylor's medical school and becomin' an orthopedic surgeon?"

"You remember that?" I asked surprised.

"I remember everythin'," he said in a mock prideful voice.  "Now explain."

"I used to want to do all that. But... things changed my sophomore year, with... Um, both Dennison brothers passin'. It was traumatizin' and I no longer wanted to have a part of any of it.

"I know that their deaths weren't my fault, but I couldn't help feelin' that they were. That I was responsible. And I let their parents down. Twice.

"I never want to feel that way again. The pressure of havin' a human life in my hands is just too great."

"So then why still say that you want to go into the medical field, when you actually don't?" He asked.