Page 3 of Homesick
“You know you’re welcome here as long as you need it. You couldn’t have come at a better time. You were always good with getting stubborn calves to latch on. Can you give it a try while I go wash up?”
“Uhh yeah. Sure,” I answer nervously as I look at the cute calf.
“Okay, great. I’ll be right back. Watch the momma though. She’s a kicker!”
“Wait, what—” I try to say before he scampers off.
The mom cow and I make eye contact after he disappears, and I give her a little scratch on her head. If there’s one thing I missed about Honey Grove, it was my family farm. I used to spend every free minute I had in the calf barn as soon as February hit, and it was baby cow season. May is almost over, so this is probably one of the last cows to have a baby this season.
I head over to the cute little brown and white spotted calf hanging out beside its mom and try to coax her to the side of the cow. The mom cow is blissfully mowing down on some grain so it’s the perfect time to get the calf to feed. I position myself behind the baby cow and push her toward the udder.
After some struggling and hesitation, I’m finally able to get the calf to latch on to the udder. I feel a weird sense of pride boil up and it feels good to have even a small win after so many failures in the past few months.
I keep holding the calf to help her drink and yell to my dad, “I did it! I guess I still have the magic touch.”
“I don’t think you’ve ever lost it, Wren.”
I whip my head around at the familiar voice and leaning against the stall is none other than Blake fucking Fisher.
The movement startles the mom cow. My grip on the calf loosens when the mom cow kicks out her back left leg and the calf backs up into me.
I immediately fall on my ass using my arms to catch myself at the last minute. As soon as I land, I know what’s happened.
It takes me a minute to come to terms with the situation, but I’ve just landed in a pile of fresh cow shit courtesy of the smug looking adult cow in front of me. I’ve been in Honey Grove for less than an hour and I’m already seeing signs that this was a bad idea.
The biggest sign of all rushes over to me with his big green eyes and tousled brown hair. “Shit, Wren. Are you okay? Here, let me help you up.”
Blake reaches out his hand, but I promptly smack it away.
It takes everything in me to pull my eyes from his. I haven’t seen him in six years, but it’s hard to ignore the soft lines that have turned into sharp curves. Every inch of my body instantly perks up in response to him and that pisses me off.
“No thanks. I don’t need your help,” I say sharply as I proceed to hoist myself up and walk away as fast as humanly possible.
To say our first time seeing each other was a shit show is an understatement.
CHAPTER 2
“What’s wrong? You’ve been acting weird all night,” I say when Blake puts his truck into park in my driveway.
I look over and I see the whites of his knuckles as he grips the shifter.
I think back to a few hours ago when I was so excited to come home for the weekend and surprise Blake. I could sense he didn’t have a great time when he came to visit me at school a few weekends ago and his text messages had become short and dismissive. I just figured he was as frustrated with long distance as I was.
“We need to talk,” Blake says, still facing forward.
My stomach drops. I know what those four words mean.
“What about?” I question with a shaky voice.
I turn my body toward him in the passenger seat. His face is unreadable from this angle.
“This isn’t working anymore,” he says with gritted teeth. He keeps his gaze forward so I can’t see his eyes. It’s like he can barely stand to look at me.
“I know it’s been rough, Blake,” I say, trying to meet his eyes. “I can come home more, or we can talk on the phone more. Just tell me what I have to do to make this work. We have to make this work.”
My eyes drift to Blake’s body and I stare at the sharp rise and fall of his chest. “I don’t think we can, Wren. It’s obvious you’re having a great time at school without me. I don’t want to hold you back.”
Tears begin to well up in my eyes when I realize his end game. Hurt prickles the edge of my heart, teasing the pain that’s sure to come.