32 · Lucy
Mitchell, South Dakota, is hot, humid, and dusty. We’re here plenty early so we wander around town, watch part of the parade, have lunch at a small-town diner not unlike the Full Loon Café. Simon orders a slice of coconut cream pie, and even though he practically licks the plate clean, declares that it’s nowhere near as good as the pie at the Full Loon. Overheated and sweating, we set up our tents at the campground, then head over to the rodeo grounds.
I’ve never seen Hannah so happy, so at home, so relaxed. She’s wearing a tight white T-shirt from another rodeo that says, “Put Something Exciting Between Your Legs.” She shows us every nook and cranny of the rodeo. She flirts with cowboys and the guys grilling hamburgers. Dustin stands beside her, his hand on her back, and grins in his cretin way while she finagles down the price on a purple straw cowboy hat.
“Sweetheart, I saw you out back behind the trailer, colorin’ this with purple spray paint,” she says in a sweet voice. “Now, come on. This white one here is five dollars less. It’s only a little spray paint, sugar—don’t you want to sell me this for the same price?”
Apparently he does, and Hannah gets the hat for five dollars off.
I turn on my phone as we walk from Vendor Alley back to the stands. Eighteen missed calls, seven voicemail messages, most from my dad. Thirty-two text messages from Dad, Mom, Daniel, Tami, even one from Clayton. His is the only one I open.
Girl UR in deep shit. I’ve never been prouder.
I stumble and bite my bottom lip to stop its sudden tremble.
“You okay, Lucille?” Hannah says as she grabs my arm to steady me. “Trip over your own feet?”
“You might say that.” I hold the phone out for her to see.
She laughs. “This will all blow over, you’ll see.”
We watch the Grand March and the first few events. Hannah whoops and hollers during barrel racing and steer wrestling.
Simon reaches for my hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
I shake my head. “Seriously? We came all this way to see a rodeo. Don’t you want to, you know, see the rodeo?”
He smiles. “Nah, I came all this way to spend time with you. Don’t you want to, you know, spend time with me?”
“Of course,” I say. “We’re spending time together now.”
“I don’t care about the rodeo, and I don’t think you do, either. It’s not your thing. I mean, look at Hannah. Look at how excited she is whenever some dude falls off a horse trying to rope a calf.” He pauses, then says, “How about we, um, go back to the campground?”
I don’t answer right away.
I’m here with Simon, who slipped into my life so easily. My boyfriend.
Ben doesn’t want to be with me. He’s made that clear, time and again.
Simon does.
“Yeah,” I say finally, “let’s go.”
Hannah raises her eyebrows at me when we get up to leave. I shrug.
The walk back is brutal. It’s about a hundred degrees, even at nine o’clock at night, and by the time we reach our tent, rivers of sweat drip down my back. It’s cooler down by the lake at least. The campground is nearly deserted—everyone is still at the rodeo and will be for another couple of hours. I can hear the roar of the crowd and the tinny, twangy voice of the announcer from here.
We sit in the camp chairs outside the tent and watch the darkness fall over the lake. Simon gets up from his chair and kneels in front of me. He takes my hands in his.
“Having fun?”
I smile. I’m hot, sweaty, dusty. “Yeah. It’s been fun.”
“I always have fun with you, Lucy. It’s been a great summer so far.”
I nod. He stands and pulls me to my feet, into him, his chin on the top of my head.
“You’re amazing, Lucy. You’ve made this such an awesome summer for me. I don’t want to go home.”
I can feel his heartbeat against my cheek, his T-shirt damp with sweat. “There’s still a lot of summer left.”
“Not enough,” he murmurs.
The rumble of his voice, the thick air around us, the warmth of his arms—it all wraps around me, holds me tight.
This boy wants to be with me.
Simon kisses me and I kiss him back. He leads me into the tent. He guides me down to the sleeping bag, his weight heavy on top of me.
“Is this okay?” he asks. “I mean, we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
He’s nervous.
Strangely, I’m not.
He asks again, “Is this okay?”
It is. I nod.
He says, “I love you, Lucy.”
When I don’t say anything, he continues. “No matter what, I love you. I had no idea what was in store for me this summer when my mom said we’d be renting some house up north. But now I know that I’m the luckiest guy on earth.”
He kisses me, and it’s sweet and gentle and I believe that he loves me.
I close my eyes. I tell myself that I’m moving on. I’m letting Ben go.
Simon holds my hand across the space between our two camp chairs outside the tent. The sky is deep bluish-black, the bright spotlights from the rodeo grounds visible in the distance. The cheering has died down, though, so Hannah and Dustin should be on their way back.
“Lucy, are you okay?” Simon sounds anxious, almost uncomfortable, asking me this. We weren’t in the tent long, and I was grateful when he gave me privacy after, to clean up and get dressed.
“Yes.” I feel strange, thinned out. But it’s okay.
“Okay.” He lets out a long breath. “Good.”
When I don’t respond, he changes the subject. “I’ve always wanted to see the Corn Palace. You think we’ll have time tomorrow?”
The World’s Only Corn Palace is a big tourist attraction in town, decorated each year in a design made of more than a quarter of a million ears of corn.
“Maybe.”
“Don’t you think it’s fascinating? I mean, for one, think of the effort it must take to grow all that corn—all those different colors—and then to actually nail it to the wall. It’s a work of art.” He smiles. “You want to go?”
A loud whoop comes from a couple sites down, and I look up to see Hannah and Dustin. Dustin carries a bundle of firewood.
“You missed the big finale!” Hannah winks at me. “How are you two lovebirds?”
The heat rushes over my face.
“Never better.” Simon’s voice cracks and he reaches for a bottle of water.
“Let’s make a fire,” Dustin says. “I’ll teach you how, city boy.”
• • •
After the fire burns down, Hannah insists that she and I sleep in one tent, the boys in the other. This is a surprise to everyone, even me.
“Come on, babe,” Dustin says, his hands on her butt. He squeezes. “You’re kidding, right?”
She shakes her head and gives Dustin a playful shove. “Her parents would kill me.”
They’ll probably kill me first.
The embers hiss as Dustin pours water over them. He takes off his cowboy hat, kisses Hannah, and ducks into the tent. Simon pulls me to my feet and hugs me.
“Good night, Lucy,” he whispers into my ear. “I love you.”
He follows Dustin into the tent.
Hannah unzips the opening of our tent, holds it back for me, and follows me in.
“You want to talk about anything?” she asks. She’s curled up the edges of her purple crocheted cowboy hat. She takes it off and swats it against my arm. She smiles. Beautiful Hannah, always happy.
I nod. “But not yet. Not when they might hear us.”
I barely sleep in the heat and humidity. I toss and turn and wait for morning.