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He laughs. “I played football. We used to go to Mustard Seed Diner, and Gloria made the best milkshakes. Well, she still does. It’s my favorite.”

“I want to go there.”

“I think that can be arranged.” He gestures to the left.

“There’s a park up there called Doc Griffin.

Back in the day, we’d get milkshakes from Mustard Seed, shut it down, then go hang out at the park.

Just a group of rowdy kids, causing not all that much trouble, because there’s not much trouble to get into here.

” He grimaces. “I mean, there was the time we built a still up in the woods behind my dad’s house. ”

“You did?”

“Yeah. I blame Colt for that.”

“So, you knew Colt back then.”

“Sure did. He was one of my first friends when I came to town. He’s a great guy.”

“Stella?”

“Oh, we met her when we got into the rodeo.”

“Did she date either of you?”

He frowns. “No. Why would you ask that?”

“I’m just trying to figure out how two bull riders ended up befriending a barrel racer. It seems like an unlikely crossover.”

“I don’t think so. Stella is an adrenaline junkie, so she loves getting as close as possible to the more extreme sports. Plus, she’s just cool. A lot of nights we hang out, play poker after the events.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. For obvious reasons, things went a little differently this last time.”

“Well, I’d love to play with you guys sometime.”

“That can definitely be arranged since Colt is back in town, too.”

There’s something so aggressively normal about all of this. It’s all very Friday Night Lights. Very quaint and homely in a way that I’ve never experienced, even living in small towns over the years.

“Where did you go to high school?” he asks.

His mention of my past sours my stomach and casts a pall over this beautiful, small-town fantasy I’m in .

“Oh. Portland. It’s so weird, because Portland is a pretty big city, but it felt too small for me. I moved to Sisters because at least it was actually small, and I didn’t know people there.”

“Why Sisters specifically?”

“Honestly? I found the apartment there, and I just went. I didn’t really think about it. I’ve been living there for the last two years.”

He pulls the truck up against the curb, right in front of a cute little store with a sparkling jewelry display in the front. I know that this is Sammy’s shop.

“I feel weird. Like maybe I should call the store first.”

“You don’t need to feel weird. Not only is Daisy calling ahead, but my mom knows her.”

In my life, that isn’t a positive. If my mom knows somebody, that means they’re a person I don’t want to know, and if they are a person I want to know, then I don’t want to use her as a reference. It’s such an interesting thing to have his network. Especially working the way that it does.

But I’m grateful for it.

I get out of the truck and step onto the sidewalk.

The breeze is warm, and the town is bustling.

There are little groups of people wandering down the sidewalks, popping into different shops, laden with bags.

I spot a bookstore across the street, a toy store, and a bridal shop.

There’s an Italian restaurant and a saloon at the end of the block.

“When you turn twenty-one, I’ll take you to the saloon.”

“My birthday is in a couple of weeks.”

“Really?”

I look down. “Yes.”

I can’t remember the last time I celebrated it. I’m not sure I want to, but somehow I know he’ll want to.

“Then I’ll definitely take you to the saloon.”

“Great.”

That feels so normal. Like such a normal thing to look forward to. I can’t remember the last time I celebrated my birthday, and I guess I should celebrate turning twenty-one. I hear it’s supposed to be fun. But nothing in my life has ever been all that fun.

Now that Dallas is back in my life, though…

He leads the way into the shop, and I’m dazzled by the surroundings. It’s small, but lovely. There’s a girl about my age working behind the counter. “Welcome in,” she says.

Just then, a woman comes out from behind a curtain stretched over a doorway. She has long, curly blonde hair and a serene demeanor. “Hi. I’m Sammy. This is my store. Oh. Dallas,” she says, as soon as she recognizes him. “I think your mom said something about you coming back into town.”

“Here for a few months, anyway.”

“That’s great.”

He clears his throat. “This is my friend, Sarah. I think Daisy called about her?”

“Ah. Daisy. Yes. I’m in an entrepreneur group with her. She did mention someone who was looking for a job. Is that you?”

“Yes,” I say. I look down and notice that the woman has just the slightest baby bump. “I don’t have any experience working in a retail store like this. Mainly, I’ve waited tables. But I’m moving to town and –”

“She’s a good friend of mine,” Dallas says.

“I do need help. Ryder and I have three kids, and a fourth one on the way, and honestly, I’m just exhausted. Between making the jewelry, going to the different trade shows… running the storefront is a little bit much. I have Allison working most days, but she’s also going to school. ”

“Yeah,” the girl says. “But I have my schedule worked pretty well around all of this.”

“What are you going to school for?” I ask.

“Oh. Nursing.”

“That’s cool,” I say, and then I’m not sure what else I should say.

I don’t really know how to do pleasantries and small talk and making friends.

I especially don’t know what to do right now when I feel a desperation for both the job and befriending Allison.

So I look at Sammy. “Well, if you have a position, I would love to see if I’m a good fit. ”

“I have a feeling you would be a great fit,” Sammy says, and I don’t know why she’s so confident in that, but that confidence makes me want to be certain that I don’t let her down.

Maybe I can build connections. Maybe I can make myself a community.

I started to do that in Sisters. I was making slow progress with it.

Learning how to be less of a feral animal and trying to actually be friendly to the people around me.

Maybe that didn’t end up exactly the way I wanted it to, but maybe here… Maybe here it can be different.

“Can I get your details, your phone number? Then I can look at my schedule and get you set up for your first training day.”

“That’s perfect. Really, I so appreciate this.”

“Not at all. I appreciate it.”

“So do I,” says Allison.

I wonder if maybe we can be friends. I did make some friends at the diner, but none of them were my age.

I haven’t had the chance to make a lot of friends my age.

I glossed over my high school experience when I talked to Dallas earlier.

But the truth is… It wasn’t very happy. I struggled.

I struggled to connect to people. A lot of it’s on me.

But I was so angry about everything that had happened to me .

I’ve started a few new lives in the years since then, and I’m not sure that I’ve been particularly successful at any of them.

I’m left feeling so behind where Dallas is.

And I try not to overthink that.

I leave my information with Sammy, and we walk back out onto the street. “Want to take a stroll through town?”

“Sure,” I say.

“That’s going to work out perfectly,” he says.

I can count on one hand how many times I felt like something in my life was going to work out perfectly. But he’s right about this. It’s perfect timing. A perfect gift.

“I’m going to school,” I say. “Very part-time. Like one class at a time. I want to get into social work. So, I’m taking some psychology classes, sociology.”

“You’re going to be a social worker?” he asks.

“Yeah. I mean, you and I both know, better than anybody, that it makes a huge difference when you have someone who actually cares. And if you could have a social worker who understands being on the other side of the table? I want to believe that I can make a difference.”

“Of course you can,” he says. “Of course you can make a difference. I think that’s a great idea. Maybe you should just go to school for now.”

“No. I have to work to be able to pay for it. I can qualify for some financial aid, but I have to be able to live and–”

“I’m serious when I say you can just stay with me. I’ll feed you.”

“I can’t do that, Dallas. That is the kindest, most generous offer anyone has ever made to me, but I cannot take advantage of you like that.”

“It’s not taking advantage of me.”

“I know you feel that way. But I would feel differently.”

“You’re the best, Sarah, but I don’t know that I’m willing to take your opinion into consideration here.”

I laugh. “I’m the best? What leads you to that conclusion?”

“My instincts,” he says.

“And your instincts are above reproach?”

“I’d say so.”

I look at him, my stomach tightening when his eyes meet mine. I’m going to be twenty-one in two weeks.

I’ve never been kissed. I’m glad that wasn’t part of my abuse.

It was wrong and disgusting, and what he did felt like abuse.

Felt like trauma. Maybe that’s a weird thing to be grateful for, but I’ve been to some therapy sessions where people talked about how their abusers manipulated their feelings – mental and physical – formed bonds with them.

I can’t imagine how hard it would be to undo damage like that. Mine is hard enough.

I don’t count what happened to me as having sexual experience.

What I had done to me was assault. It hurt.

I didn’t want any of it. The problem is that it ended up categorizing sex and sexual contact as something distasteful and frightening.

And so even though in many ways I don’t feel like I have true sexual experience, it did taint the idea of it for me.

Touch is frightening to me, first and foremost.

It’s complicated. I’m acutely aware of my experience, though, standing next to Dallas. Feeling this strange, hollow sensation in my body when he looks at me. Feeling compelled to move closer to him.